Vesaniae Posted May 9, 2013 Share Posted May 9, 2013 Summary: A father and daughter attempt to make their way in the galaxy. Not so easy a task when the former is an Imperial Intelligence agent and the latter is a Sith. Contains major spoilers for the SW and IA storylines, with SI and JK spoilers scheduled to show up later in small doses. A lot of the first few pieces here will be crossposts from the Short Fic Weekly Challenge thread; those will be spoilertagged. I am going to attempt to post everything in chronological order, so there will be some new stuff thrown into the middle of the old content. Kindly bear with me. And now, our feature presentation... Tessa and Iriath - Dromund Kaas Kaas City, Dromund Kaas 8 ATC “What do you mean, you’re leaving?” Tessa demanded, hands on her hips. James Iriath regarded his sixteen-year-old daughter with a small sigh. When she was angry, she seemed to fill the entire tiny apartment with her presence. He had grown accustomed to dealing with the moods of an adolescent Sith, however. “I told you, Tessa,” he said calmly, “I’ve been transferred to Imperial Intelligence.” She scowled. “Why?” “I didn’t ask,” Iriath said coolly. “It wasn’t my place.” She continued to glare at him for a moment, then stomped over to the couch and sat down with as much furious dignity as possible. “When are you going?” she demanded, not looking at him. Iriath massaged his temples; he’d been hoping that she would take the news better than this. “Tomorrow.” He hesitated, not wanting to rile her up again, but she needed to know… “The advanced training program takes two years. You probably won’t see me before that time is up.” Tessa’s head snapped around to stare at him. “Two years?” He nodded. “Because of my experience, I get to skip the basic training, but there are still quite a few things I’ll need to learn.” “I don’t understand it,” Tessa said angrily. “You’ve been in the military for over twenty years, you’re a major with commendations and—and things, and now they’re just going to throw all that away and make you some Intelligence nothing?” “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it—” “It’s the only way of looking at it,” she snapped. “You earned your position, and they’re taking it from you. It’s not right. It’s not fair.” Iriath walked over to the couch and sat down beside her. She scooted away from him until she fetched up against the couch’s arm. “You’re thinking like a Sith,” he told her gently. “I can’t operate under the same principles that you do. I have to do what I’m told, no matter how nonsensical those orders may seem. I’m sure that there is a perfectly logical explanation for this turn of events.” Tessa looked down at her lap, clenching her hands together until her knuckles turned white. “People die in Intelligence training,” she said tonelessly. “Yes.” “And—and operatives,” she continued in a too-steady voice. “They disappear all the time, and no one—” she swallowed hard, “—no one ever knows what happens to them—” “My prior career was not without its dangers,” Iriath pointed out. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder; she flinched, but didn’t try to dislodge him. “I can’t promise that I’ll be safe. But I will do everything in my power to survive. For you.” “If I lose you, I won’t have anyone,” she whispered. “You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly. A droplet of water splashed against the back of her hand. “I don’t want you to go away,” she muttered. “I’ve been gone for long stretches of time before—” “Not since the Treaty,” Tessa protested. “And not for this long.” Another droplet joined the first. Iriath sighed softly and pulled her into his arms. She offered no resistance, nestling against his chest as she started to cry silently. He wasn’t sure how to comfort her, so he sat there and held her without saying a word. Lynore would have known what to do, but he would have to manage alone. He had always had to manage alone. After a few minutes, Tessa’s quiet sniffles gradually faded away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just…this is so sudden…” Iriath tightened his hug. “You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart.” “I don’t want to upset you,” she mumbled. “If you’re happy about this…” “I don’t have an opinion,” he said blandly. “My opinion doesn’t matter.” “I don’t understand how you can be like that.” “Of course not. You’re Sith. You don’t have to be like that. Which reminds me…” Iriath pulled off his left glove and removed his wedding ring, then pressed it into her hand. She instinctively closed her fingers around the smooth metal. “I won’t be able to wear this during training,” he told her, “so I want you to keep it for me.” Tessa clutched the ring against her chest like a talisman. “I wish Mama were here.” Iriath closed his eyes. “So do I, Tessa. So do I.” “Do you miss her?” she asked after a long moment of silence. He opened his eyes to find her regarding him inquisitively. “More than you can imagine,” he admitted. “Do you—do you think she would be proud of me?” It wasn’t the first time she had asked that question. “Yes,” Iriath said. “I know she would.” “When I practice saber forms, I imagine that I’m fighting the Jedi who killed her,” Tessa said softly. “And I imagine that I’ll kill him, someday.” “Stay strong, and I have no doubt that you will.” She frowned. “You stay strong too, Dad. You know what they say about Intelligence.” Iriath smiled thinly. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.” Tessa bit her lip, clenching her hand around the ring. “Just—come back, all right?” He looked her in the eyes, eyes that were the same shade of pale green as his own. “I will. I promise.” Tessa and Vette - Balmorra Sobrik, Balmorra 10 ATC “That went well,” Vette muttered, blinking rapidly as they stepped out of the dark barracks into the bright sunlight. “You really think so?” the Sith beside her asked earnestly. Vette turned to look at Vrintessia Alamar-Iriath—please, call me Tessa! A shock collar is a bit extreme, don’t you think?—and noted the young woman’s flushed cheeks and shining eyes. “Uh, did I miss some kind of cause for happiness back there?” Tessa nodded. “Do you think he liked me?” “I—uh—“ Vette flailed for words. “Just who are we talking about, here?” “Lieutenant Quinn,” Tessa sighed, her blush deepening as she said the name. “Wasn’t he just dreamy?” Vette tried not to stare too incredulously while she tried to figure out if Tessa had encountered the same Lieutenant Quinn with whom Vette had just been stuck in a room for a very long few minutes. “You…you thought he was dreamy?” she asked after a moment of bewilderment that was rapidly shifting into amusement. Tessa frowned. “You don’t think so?” “Well, I thought that he was, um… Not really my type,” Vette said diplomatically. Tessa was awfully nice for a Sith, but one could never be too careful. “Ah,” Tessa said, nodding sagely. “That makes sense.” She laced her fingers together and stretched her arms out in front of her, her gloves creaking. “I’ll have to be sure to impress him, then.” “Uh-huh,” Vette murmured. “What’s the mission, again? I may have drifted off…” Tessa launched into a detailed explanation about towers and relays and detonators. Vette’s gaze wandered over to the steps leading up to the spaceport and the assortment of people walking up and down it. Balmorra saw all sorts, apparently. There was a Twi’lek woman in Sith-esque robes that left very little to the imagination, trailed by some kind of weird hulking monster thing. Vette made a mental note to stay far away from that pair. Tessa waved a hand in front of her face. “Hello?” Vette jumped. “I’m listening, I’m listening!” she said hastily. Tessa chuckled softly. “Sure you were. Listen, I’ll handle the details, you cover me. The usual procedure.” “We have a usual procedure?” “Sure we do!” Tessa said cheerfully. “I kill the things that need killing, and you take care of whatever I miss. Simple.” “Whatever you say, my lord,” Vette said dryly. “Oh, butter me up, why don’t you,” Tessa said, rolling her eyes. “We’ve been over this.” “Is the title really that much of an ego trip?” “You have no idea,” Tessa said seriously. Vette grinned wickedly. “No wonder you’re so taken with that Quinn guy.” Tessa’s blush returned with full force. “Doesn’t hurt that he’s nice to look at,” she muttered.” “I don’t know,” Vette said dubiously. “I thought he was a bit…scary.” “Scary?” Tessa asked, giving her a blank look. “How so?” Vette shrugged. “Maybe it’s just me, but a lot of Imperials just have this certain air…like, say, that guy!” She pointed to a black-uniformed man exiting the spaceport with a petite Rattataki woman in tow. He looked like a nasty piece of work; early forties, short, graying hair, a scar running across his left eye. What was he doing with an alien mercenary type? Tessa looked in the direction that she was pointing and gasped, then trotted off towards the unlikely pair. What the hell is she doing? Vette thought frantically, and hastened after her. The grim-looking Imperial had just made his way down the last of the stairs by the time Tessa was close enough to launch herself at him. “Tessa?” he asked, startled. “What are you doing here—“ He was cut off by Tessa’s enthusiastic hug. “Daddy!” she shrieked happily. …well, I’ll be damned, Vette thought. Now that she was closer, she could see that the man’s eyes were the same pale green as Tessa’s. It’s funny, you don’t really think of Sith as having families. “This is awkward,” the Rattataki woman said dryly. She glanced at Vette. “Name’s Kaliyo. This town have any decent cantinas?” “I’m Vette, and I have no idea, but I’m up for finding out.” Tessa - Starfrost Aboard Fury-class starship Starfrost 10 ATC Tessa knew there was no point in denying it. She had a crush on Malavai Quinn. It was really rather embarrassing, when she thought about it. She was his commander, after all, which was simply inappropriate, not to mention the fact that sweet stars he was old enough to be her father. On the other hand, he was so handsome, and charming… Well, okay, maybe not charming per se. But there was something utterly endearing about the seriousness with which he discussed strategy and tactics, the way he viewed every situation as a problem to be solved. She had a feeling he hadn’t encountered many problems that he could not solve. Yes, he had an certain air of…something…noble tragedy? No, competence, that was it. Pure, perfect competence. The only tragic thing about him was his extreme professionalism, which while useful in the field, was rather frustrating off it. Tessa flopped down onto her bed with a sigh. She had to face the fact that Quinn probably just wasn’t interested in her. She could certainly think of reasons: she was too young, too inclined to disregard authority other than that of her master, too lenient with her enemies, too casual with her allies, and then there was the whole commander thing… She shook her head. “I shouldn’t give up hope,” she said aloud determinedly. One never knew. Perhaps Quinn might come around some day. She would just have to prove to him that she had what it took to be a worthy mate. The thought made her chuckle. Mate? I’m not thinking of marrying him. She grinned, feeling her cheeks flush. Not yet, anyway. She scooted up against the headboard, moving the pillows to support her back. They were only a few hours into this hyperspace voyage, and she would be damned if she spent the entire time practicing lightsaber forms or doing other productive things. She leaned over to the nightstand and picked up her datapad, smiling at the framed holo that rested there. Her parents smiled back, her father standing tall and proud in his Imperial uniform, her mother in a long dress the same shade of red as the Sith tattoo on her forehead. Tessa patted the hologram fondly and settled back on the bed, turning on the datapad and flipping to her favorite romance novel, the one about a Twi’lek Sith and a Chiss bounty hunter. She started to read, unable to resist imagining herself and Quinn in the places of the main characters. Maybe one day, it would happen that way for real… Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vesaniae Posted May 9, 2013 Author Share Posted May 9, 2013 Iriath and Keeper - Dromund Kaas Imperial Intelligence Headquarters, Dromund Kaas 11 ATC “I’m mounting an operation against the Republic Strategic Information Service,” Keeper said briskly. She had to keep things moving, had to focus on the mission at hand and not how tired she was. She had to give the information required and not think about the fact that she was giving it to a man who had somehow convinced a Dark Council member to stand down and go into exile… Stars, how had he managed it? She shook head quickly; she was letting herself get distracted. “Our concern is this man,” she said quickly. “Ardun Kothe.” Cipher Nine stood stolidly in parade rest on the other side of the desk as Keeper moved to activate the holo. She stared at the buttons without seeing them for a moment, then returned to her senses and brought up the image, resisting the urge to yawn with every bit of willpower she possessed. “SIS for nearly a decade, responsible for sixteen covert projects in the Mid Rim,” she explained. “The best spymaster our enemies have.” She waited for Cipher Nine to respond, but he remained silent, staring at the holo with pale green eyes that burned like marsh lights. “Cipher?” Keeper asked softly. Perhaps the turmoil of the past few days was getting to him, too. He turned that cold-fire gaze on her. “Tell me what you want me to do. Sir.” She blinked, feeling as if there were two jade-green targeting lasers fixed on her face. “This plan has been in motion for some time,” she said, a bit unsteadily. “Ardun Kothe’s division recently received a classified sanction from the Republic Senate. Complete autonomy; no restrictions on their activities. The Republic believes Kothe can win the war. We need to know what he has planned.” “So it’s an infiltration mission,” Cipher Nine murmured. He wasn’t usually so…abrupt. “Yes, that’s correct,” Keeper said warily. “I want you to make contact with the SIS and offer to be their spy inside the Empire. We’ve arranged the background.” “Objective, sir?” Cipher Nine inquired coolly. He had gone back to staring at the holo somewhere in the middle of her explanation. Keeper frowned. “Is something wrong, Cipher?” “No, sir,” he said blandly. “Please, carry on.” This was all very strange. “Your objective is to earn their confidence, uncover their plan, and eliminate Ardun Kothe himself.” Cipher Nine’s face remained deliberately blank, but his eyes lit up with an emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint. If only she were better at reading people... “Are you sure you’re all right, Cipher?” Keeper found herself asking. One corner of his mouth quirked upwards in an expression that was equally attractive and chilling. She forced herself to disregard the first variable and focus on the second as he replied, “I’m perfectly all right, sir.” “I should warn you now,” she told him, “this sort of work can be psychologically taxing. It’s a long-term, deep cover mission. You will be isolated—even most other Intelligence personnel won’t know the truth.” “I can handle it, sir.” Keeper nodded. “I have faith in your abilities. We’ve set up a meet with one of Ardun Kothe’s men. You leave for Nar Shaddaa within the hour. You understand your mission?” Cipher Nine smiled fully. “Pose as a defector, infiltrate the SIS, and…” His eyes flicked to the holo. “Kill Ardun Kothe.” “Bury whatever loyalties you have,” Keeper advised. “You’ll know when the time comes to strike.” “Yes,” Cipher Nine murmured. “I imagine I will.” Iriath - Nar Shaddaa Nar Shaddaa 11 ATC Iriath’s instinct was to stand at attention, but he knew that would probably do more harm than good. He forced himself to relax just enough so as to not appear suspicious. It was an incredibly difficult task. Every nerve was sparking with tension as he fixed his gaze on the man in front of him. Ardun Kothe. Iriath knew his name, now. It was always nice to know the name of a man you were going to kill. “Four months ago,” Kothe said finally, breaking the silence, “I started getting messages from a source in the Empire. Claims to be a Cipher agent. Now, a factory’s in ruins, and here we are. I’m starting to think you might be real.” Iriath met his gaze squarely. “You don’t trust me,” he said flatly. “I wouldn’t either.” But Kothe didn’t seem to recognize him, which was good. He could work with that. “I got a copy of your personnel file,” Kothe said. “Says you were ‘traumatized’ when you learned Darth Jadus’ dirty secret. A Dark Council member running a terrorist network. Murdering civilians. That what made you want to flip?” Iriath suppressed a shiver as he remembered Jadus. He still found it difficult to believe that he had somehow managed to talk down the Sith Lord and force him into exile. He would be back, he knew he would… He forced himself back to the present. “The Sith should represent strength,” he told Kothe firmly. “It’s why they deserve to lead.” Strong Sith, like Lynore… “But Darth Jadus embodied corruption,” he continued, putting a note of disgust into his voice that was not entirely feigned. “If a man like that can rise to the Dark Council, what does that mean?” “It means strength alone doesn’t make a good leader,” Kothe said quietly. He reached towards his belt, making Iriath twitch, but he was only retrieving his holocom. He activated the device; a few moments later, a holoimage of the Twi’lek woman Iriath had spoken with earlier appeared. “Saber?” Kothe asked. “Tell the deck another card is in play. Code name: Legate.” Saber inclined her head. “Acknowledged. Tell him congratulations.” Kothe put the com away, then regarded Iriath with a calculating expression. “I’m prepping operations on the planet Taris, couple other places. Join up with our forces there. I’ll give you your first job.” He clasped his hands together in front of him. “You’re on my team now, Legate. A double agent inside the Empire…someone to help me win this war.” Iriath allowed himself a small smile. “My colleagues will never see the shot coming.” And neither will you. Kothe nodded. “Let’s hope they never need to. One thing before you go, though—there’s something I must ask you.” Iriath raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” Kothe appeared to be studying him intently. “Have we met before, Legate?” He knows. “I don’t believe so, sir,” Iriath lied blandly. Kothe narrowed his eyes at him. “Then why is it that you hate me so much?” Oh, hell. Despite his best efforts, it seemed he hadn’t been able to keep his emotions sufficiently in check. Damn Kothe’s Jedi senses. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, trying to stall. Kothe shook his head. “You’re a good actor…Cipher. Almost had me fooled. But a true defector wouldn’t have that kind of anger towards the Republic bottled up inside of him.” He sighed. “I hate to do this, but I can’t exactly let you walk away now.” Iriath tensed, preparing to defend himself. “Keyword: onomatophobia,” Kothe said grimly. Iriath froze. “Initiate Thesh protocol, phase one.” “Keyword acknowledged,” Iriath heard himself say, his voice sounding as if it were coming from a long way off. “Shutting down.” The world swam, then went black. “…don’t know if you can still hear me…” Kothe’s voice floated down into the darkness. Iriath grasped at that tiny fragment of reality, clawing his way back up into consciousness. He was lying sprawled on the floor, his blaster digging uncomfortably into his side. There was a dull ache in the back of his head. Whether it was from hitting it when he fell or from whatever Kothe had done to him, he did not know. “Ah, you’re awake,” Kothe said, moving into his field of vision. “Stand up, please.” His legs and arms moved, maneuvering him up onto his feet. He was unable to suppress a sharp flare of panic at the sensation of being a passenger in his own body. What the hell had that damn Jedi done to him? “Good. Now, sit down,” Kothe instructed, nodding towards a nearby chair. Iriath moved mechanically over to the chair and sat. His fear was rapidly giving way to seething rage. Normally, he would never have allowed himself to lose control of his emotions in such a manner, but since it seemed that he didn’t even have control of his body, what harm could a little anger possibly do? Kothe moved to stand in front of him, regarding him with an expression of wary curiosity. “Now then, Cipher. Tell me the truth. You’re not really here to defect, are you?” His mouth moved of its own accord. “No. I am to pose as a double agent in order to infiltrate your organization.” Kothe shook his head. “I suspected as much. What is your primary objective?” “To eliminate you,” Iriath said in that horrible expressionless excuse for his voice. Kothe appeared to ruminate for a moment, then fixed Iriath with an intent stare. “Tell me, Cipher. Tell me the truth. Why is it that you look at me with such hatred boiling within you?” He couldn’t stop himself from answering, but he found that he could still move his eyes enough to lock his gaze on Kothe’s. He could still try to burn the man alive with the force of the fury within his heart. “You killed my wife,” Iriath said quietly. Kothe looked startled for a moment, then recognition glimmered to life. “You,” he breathed. “I remember you now. That scar on your face, that was my work.” Iriath was helpless to do anything but continue to glare, which he did with relish. To his extreme satisfaction, Kothe looked down at the floor, an expression of guilt flitting across his face. “Revert to phase zero,” he muttered. “You can talk now.” “I’m going to kill you,” Iriath said immediately. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I swear I will find a way.” “I can hardly blame you, Cipher,” Kothe said quietly. “We’ve all done terrible things. I’m sure your record is no cleaner than mine.” Iriath shrugged. “That was duty. This is personal.” “Personal,” Kothe sighed. “Of course.” That flicker of guilt appeared again, and Iriath was eager to twist the knife further. “I crawled back over to her, after you wounded me,” he said softly. “I had just enough strength left to hold her. She spent her last breath telling me that she loved me.” Kothe flinched. Iriath continued, merciless. “And after they found us, after the medics released me, I had to go home and tell our five year-old daughter that her mother was never coming back. She cried for days.” “Enough,” Kothe said hoarsely. Iriath sneered coldly. “Guilty conscience, Jedi?” “Keyword: onomatophobia,” Kothe snapped. “You will not say anything more about this, and you will not tell your superiors that I was a Jedi.” “Command accepted,” Iriath responded. I hurt him. He’s vulnerable. Even with this…whatever it is he’s done to me, I can still hurt him. “Now then, Cipher,” Kothe said quickly. “You’re to travel to Taris immediately…” Iriath listened silently. He would find a way to escape Kothe’s control, and he would kill him. I’ll do it, Lynore. I promise. Iriath - X-70B Phantom Aboard X-70B Phantom-class starship 11 ATC As soon as the hallucinations started, Iriath knew that it was only a matter of time. He doubted that he would be able to make it through this stage and only ever see Watcher X. There were too many ghosts in his past for him to not be haunted. Mercifully, it happened while he was alone in his quarters preparing for bed. The soft rustle of silk and a slight ache in his temples informed him that he was not alone—at least, not in his mind. He turned around, knowing what he would see, knowing that it would not be real, but unable to suppress a thrill of anticipation. Lynore stood a short distance away from him, wearing the same long red dress that had graced her form on the day of their marriage. The floor-length skirt continued to rustle faintly as the light fabric moved with her breathing. Her dark red hair cascaded in shimmering waves around her shoulders, framing her oval face, a few stray strands drifting over the crimson Sith tattoo that accented her high forehead. Her rich brown eyes sparkled as she looked at him, smiling. “Hello, James,” she said. Her voice was like rain in a desert, and he longed for more. This is not happening, Iriath told himself. She’s not really here. It’s all in your head. She glided towards him, the narrow arches of her brows drawing together in a slight frown when he did not respond. “It’s me,” she whispered, leaning upwards to brush her rosebud lips across his cheek. Her touch was exquisitely soft and painfully real. “Lynore,” he choked, shivering. He tried to put his arms around her, but his hands passed through her as if she were a ghost. She was even less than that, he knew, just a figment of his imagination, but it was getting hard to remember that when he could feel her pressed against his side. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Iriath shook his head slowly. “So many things, Lynore. So very many things.” She shifted her feet and bit the inside of her cheek the way she always had when she was worried. “I wish I could help.” “I know you do,” he said hoarsely. At that moment, he would have gladly ripped out his own heart if that was what he had to do to touch her. “But I have to handle this on my own.” Lynore gently took his face in her hands, tracing the dark shadows under his eyes. “You look exhausted, love. You need to rest.” Iriath squeezed his eyes shut, willing with all his might for her to disappear, for him to pass out or drop dead on the spot, anything for him not to have to feel her delicate fingertips on his face. But when he opened them a moment later, she was still there. She took his hands in hers. He let her tow him over to the bed, wondering how it was that he could feel her skin against his, but was unable to make contact of his own. Perhaps his mind was just being especially cruel. He silently cursed his existence as he lay down and she curled up next to him, nestling into the crook of the arm he instinctively moved to put around her. “Tell me,” Lynore said after a moment, “how is Tessa?” Iriath tried not to look at her, but all of his will was insufficient to make him tear his eyes away from her lovely face. “She’s well,” he said tersely. “She’s a Lord, now, or so I’ve heard. I haven’t seen her in some time.” “A Lord,” Lynore murmured. “And she’s only just turned nineteen… I’m so proud, James. So very proud of her—and of you, too. It’s been so hard for you, but you’re doing so well.” “You think so?” he asked bitterly. It was taking everything he had to remain composed. She nodded. “You’re stronger than you think you are. You’ll free yourself and avenge me, I know it.” “I hope you’re right.” Lynore smiled. “I am.” She trailed her fingers over his jaw. “You should keep the stubble,” she told him wryly. “It’s cute.” He knew that it was not medically possible for a heart to break, but he felt as though his was about to do so nonetheless. “Lynore—” “Hush,” she said firmly. “You need to rest.” Iriath obediently closed his eyes and surrendered to his fatigue, letting the peaceful ocean of sleep carry him away. Lynore followed him down into the depths, her ephemeral hand still on his face as reality gave way to the softer simulacrum of a dream. There, he could touch her, take her in his arms and kiss those perfect, full lips, mold her slender body against his and pretend, just for a little while, that she would still be there beside him when he awoke. She was not, of course. When he opened his eyes, his arm was still curled around the empty space where she should have been, and there was not even an illusion of her presence to comfort him this time. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vesaniae Posted May 9, 2013 Author Share Posted May 9, 2013 And now, we break up the crossposting with some new content. Iriath - Quesh Shadow Arsenal Facility, Quesh 11 ATC They don't need you anymore, Watcher X whispered. Iriath stared blankly at his holocom as Ardun Kothe continued to speak. "Hold position," the Jedi said. "Keyword: onomatophobia. And thank you." The transmission ended. Iriath slowly put the holocom away, his head starting to pound as Watcher X appeared in front of him. "They're going to win," Watcher X said grimly. "Now we're out of time." "I thought the serum was supposed to break my programming," Iriath snapped. Lynore shimmered into existence beside the Watcher, dressed in Sith battle armor, her hair bound into a long braid that hung down her back. Even after fourteen years without her, he found himself smiling at her out of habit. "The IX serum has been eating at you since you injected it," Watcher X said. "Carving neural pathways. Bleaching your brain." As always, he gave no indication that he was aware of Lynore's presence. Iriath wondered why, then asked himself, not for the first time, why he was so concerned about the social interactions between two people who were entirely imaginary. "It's not finished," Lynore said, frowning concernedly, "but it will have to suffice. We're out of time, James. We must rewrite your programming now, or you will not be able to escape this place." "New commands, new keyword, no outside control," said Watcher X. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you ready?" Iriath hesitated. "If this goes wrong..." "Then you'll likely end up in a permanent vegetative state," Watcher X said flatly. "But it's not like we have a choice." Lynore glared at her fellow hallucination. "There is always a choice. And the risk is far greater if we do not proceed." Watcher X ignored her. "Thesh protocol, phase one. New keyword: iconoclasm." "Keyword accepted," Iriath's mouth said. "Thesh protocol engaged." Watcher X nodded in satisfaction. "Now you have access. You can force your mind and body to obey a new program. Tell me what you want." Iriath looked at Lynore. "Nothing will keep me from my vengeance. Not anymore." She smiled happily, her brown eyes sparkling. "Embed assassination commands," she said in the same tone that she'd used to give orders to Imperial soldiers, long ago. "Keyword activate from user only. Accept no outside orders." "Assassination commands embedded," Iriath responded coolly. "Accepting no further orders." Hearing her voice utter the words that could shape the workings of his mind made him feel sick, but he welcomed the pain and the disgust. It helped to remind him that it was not really her. "Revert to phase zero," Watcher X said. He tilted his head to one side. "You're free, now. Time for me to go." Before Iriath could respond, he vanished. "It's time for me to say goodbye too," Lynore said quietly. "I've done my best to help you, my beloved. I hope it's been enough." Iriath swallowed hard. "It's been— Lynore, I—" He broke off, unable to find words. She strode up to him and kissed his cheek. "I will miss you. Take care of yourself, and Tessa. I have a feeling matters will only become more complicated from here on out." Her form flickered and started to turn translucent. Iriath felt strangely numb. It's not really her, he reminded himself. He had already lost her, and he could never have her back. Never. This brief experience had stabbed at a mostly-healed wound, but he had already resigned himself to the fact that these visions of her were temporary. "Goodbye," he said softly. It was not much of a farewell, but it was all that he could think of to offer. Lynore smiled sadly. "Goodbye," she echoed, and slowly faded away. "Agent?" Vector's voice asked as if from a long way off. "Are you all right?" Iriath suddenly found himself leaning heavily against the shield control console, Vector standing a short distance away with a concerned expression on his face. "I'm fine," Iriath said shortly. He allowed himself a moment to massage his temples, his eyes stinging. "You disappeared on us," Vector observed. "I'll explain later," Iriath said, turning away and heading for the door. "Just follow my lead." Explanations could wait. For now, he had a Jedi to kill. To be continued. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Adwynyth Posted May 9, 2013 Share Posted May 9, 2013 (edited) Yes, he had an certain air of…something…noble tragedy? No, competence, that was it. The tears of mirth, they flow. Edited May 9, 2013 by Adwynyth Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
irishfino Posted May 9, 2013 Share Posted May 9, 2013 (edited) Yeeeeesss!!! I love that his dead wife appeared alongside Watcher X. There are feels, sad feels, angry feels, ugh feels. FEELS! I LOVE IT! [glutton for feel-punishment] Edited May 9, 2013 by irishfino Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vesaniae Posted May 9, 2013 Author Share Posted May 9, 2013 Glad you're enjoying! Iriath - Quesh (2/3) He found Kothe bent over a console in front of a doorway blocked off by a forcefield. "Blasted machine," Kothe growled, prodding the console. Iriath was tempted to shoot him in the back, but the urge quickly faded. After everything the man had done to him, a quick kill would be too easy. Too clean. He shifted almost unconsciously into parade rest, clasping his hands behind him. His gloves were sticky with Saber's blood, but he could still keep a firm grip on a blaster and a vibroknife. He would see this through. Apparently, whatever Kothe had done to the console was effective, for a few moments later the forcefield disengaged. Kothe turned. "Legate," he said, frowning. "I thought I felt you. You're supposed to be back at the shields—" He broke off, his eyes widening. That's right, you blasted Jedi, Iriath thought smugly. I don't have to do a damn thing you say anymore. "I see," Kothe said quietly. "You're free, aren't you?" Iriath smiled pleasantly. "I believe we both knew this day would come. Time's up, Kothe." Kothe shook his head and drew his lightsaber. "Is that what you think?" Iriath shrugged, moving into a combat stance and readying his blaster. "For someone who isn't supposed to be a Jedi anymore, you have not tried particularly hard to hide it." "Call it my secret pride," Kothe murmured, and charged. Both the Imperial army and Intelligence gave its trainees courses meant to prepare them for fighting Force-users. However, in Iriath's experience, such programs did little to properly ready you for the experience of having an impossibly fast and agile being with a weapon that could cut through almost anything bearing down on you with all the force of a berserk rancor. He held his ground as Kothe covered the distance to him with disturbing speed. Iriath slowed him slightly with a steady stream of blasterfire, all of which was deflected, but in a matter of moments he was far too close to that bright bar of plasma for his own comfort. Iriath lunged to one side as the blade intersected with the space where he had just been standing, continuing to fire. He didn't expect any of his shots to actually get through, but they didn't need to. He was, after all, not alone. Vector had expressed concern over Iriath's temperament and actions over the course of the SIS mission. While normally he would have quashed any questioning of his leadership, there was something oddly endearing about Vector's earnest desire to help. Maybe it was the pheromones. Whatever the reason, Iriath liked having him around, particularly in fights like this, where every move was crucial and he needed someone reliable to watch his back. Kaliyo was too flighty, Lokin too sly, Temple too unfamiliar. Vector, though...Vector was trustworthy. Kothe started to move towards Iriath's new position, his lightsaber weaving to block the blaster shots. Vector slipped up behind him, pulled out a sharp-looking object from some hidden pocket, and stabbed him neatly in the back. Fool Jedi isn't wearing enough armor, Iriath noted as Kothe staggered, whirling around. "We're sorry about that," Vector said contemplatively as he blocked Kothe's lightsaber on his staff. Not for the first time, Iriath wondered just what that thing was made of. "But not all battles can be won honorably." Kothe struck again, slower than before, and Vector parried. He poisoned him, Iriath realized. Why haven't I seen him do that before? He ran quickly towards the fight; although equipped with a lightsaber-resistant weapon, Vector was no warrior. He wouldn't last long by himself against even a weakened Jedi. It would probably be acceptable to shoot Kothe in the back now. He'd said his piece, and the Jedi would know who ended him. He raised his blaster. Kothe cursed under his breath and took one hand off his lightsaber to gesture in Vector's direction, sending him flying backward to crash into the nearest support pillar. Iriath's shot went wide as Kothe twisted back around towards him. Instinct took over, and he reached into his jacket, pulling out the first grenade he got his hand on. He armed it and threw it without bothering to see what kind it was, then dropped to the ground in case it was the thermal detonator. White light seared the edges of his vision. Flashbang. Great. He squeezed his eyes shut until the light receded, then scrambled to his feet, peering through mostly-closed eyelids. He still had his blaster in one hand; he'd had never drop your weapon drilled into his brain rather thoroughly back at the Academy. Kothe had half-fallen to the ground, looking dazed. Iriath lunged forward and shot him. He only managed to fire twice before the blaster's power pack ran out. Son of a— Kothe tried to stand, then collapsed to his knees. "Huh," he gasped. "You fight good, Cipher. Looks like you still have...something I don't anymore." He looked up at Iriath, his eyes watery from the effects of the flashbang grenade. "The Shadow Arsenal was my chance to stop the war, and I failed. I don't expect mercy, given that and..." Iriath took advantage of the brief speech to hastily reload his blaster. "You're going to die knowing that the Republic will fall," he said coldly. He leveled the blaster at Kothe's head. "My Lynore will rest easier this day." Kothe's hands shot forward, and an invisible wave knocked Iriath off his feet. He rolled away as Kothe leaped, lightsaber back in his hand. Iriath scrambled backwards as Kothe moved towards him, trying desperately to distract him with blasterfire long enough to allow him to stand. He fumbled in his jacket and found another grenade, then hurled it. The grenade exploded in midair into a shower of flaming shrapnel, which would have been damn useful earlier. Kothe moved with Force-enhanced speed, dancing out of the way of the explosion, ducking down— —and over the threshold of the chamber he had just opened. Iriath shot the console. Sparks exploded from the ruined electronics, and the forcefield reactivated. He slowly got to his feet and walked over to stand in front of the field, meeting his adversary's eyes. Kothe stared back as the turrets behind him hummed to life, their softly glowing targeting mechanisms seeking. Finding. "There is no death," Kothe said softly. "There is only the Force." "You can have your Force," Iriath whispered. "I'm perfectly happy to watch you die." The turrets opened fire. 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
irishfino Posted May 9, 2013 Share Posted May 9, 2013 (edited) MUAHAHAHAHAH SUCK IT KOTHE!!! [screams the girl who let Kothe live...] Edited May 9, 2013 by irishfino Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Syart Posted May 9, 2013 Share Posted May 9, 2013 (edited) Kaliyo was too flighty, Lokin too sly, Temple too unfamiliar. Vector, though...Vector was trustworthy. Exactly what my first female agent felt. I went all the rest of the way through the IA story with Vector once I'd got him Loving this <3 Edited May 9, 2013 by Syart Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Adwynyth Posted May 9, 2013 Share Posted May 9, 2013 Exactly what my first female agent felt. I went all the rest of the way through the IA story with Vector once I'd got him Loving this <3 Heh...and I just hit 50 with my sniper using Kaliyo the whole way (except for SCORPIO for a while for familiar spoilery reasons). Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
bright_ephemera Posted May 10, 2013 Share Posted May 10, 2013 Lynore's appearances are wonderful. And I will never not enjoy watching Ardun Kothe die. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vesaniae Posted May 10, 2013 Author Share Posted May 10, 2013 (edited) I would imagine that Vector's decency would provide a welcome break for an agent surrounded by schemers. The most bada** response to the "there is no death, only the Force" line will forever be Darth Angral's, but I did my best. Iriath - Quesh (3/3) Imperial Base, Quesh 11 ATC Iriath staggered back into the Imperial base. Vector did his best to support him, but the younger man was as unsteady as he was. Between the battle with Kothe and dodging the last few surviving droid defenders as they escaped the bombarded facility, the two were definitely not in the best of health. We're a sorry lot, Iriath thought dryly, noting the curious looks of the soldiers they passed on their way to the shuttle pad. He felt strange, almost...jubilant. But we won. Stars above, we won. It's over. Staying upright as he stood still and waited for the lift proved to be even more difficult than walking. Vector leaned heavily on his staff, and Iriath found himself slouching against the nearest wall with a posture that would have given an Academy drill sergeant fits. It was all he could do to keep himself from breaking into hysterical laughter. I did it. I killed that damn Jedi. I avenged Lynore, finally. The lift seemed to take an eternity to arrive, but it finally ground to a halt in front of them. A familiar-looking young woman in Sith armor stepped off it, then froze, staring at him. "Dad?" Tessa asked in astonishment. Iriath shook himself—was he really so far gone that he had failed to recognize his own daughter? He stepped towards her, meeting her halfway as she skipped forward and embraced him. The lift moved upwards again behind her, but he paid no heed. "Dad, what in the galaxy are you doing here?" she asked, frowning at him as she pulled back from the hug. "And what happened to you? You don't look so good." She looked different than she had the last time he'd seen her. Her armor had clearly seen much use, and she had an air of capability that seemed out of place on his little girl. But she was not that girl anymore, it seemed; she was a young woman, now. She was Sith, like her mother before her. Pride welled up within him, a glowing wave of warmth. "I was on a mission," he said, smiling. "The Jedi who murdered your mother is dead, now. Justice has been served." Tessa gasped, her eyes widening. "You—you killed him?" Iriath nodded. "I...stars, that's amazing." She bit her lip, looking suddenly pensive. "I hope—I hope Mum knows, wherever she is." "I'm sure she does, dearest," Iriath said quietly. "I'm sure she does." There was a moment of silence, broken eventually by Vector's soft, meaningful throat-clearing. Iriath gave a small start. "Oh, of course..." Tessa gave Vector a curious look. "Tessa, this is Vector Hyllus, one of my crew," Iriath said crisply. "Vector, this is Lord Vrintessia Alamar-Iriath, my daughter." Vector gave a neat bow. "A pleasure, my lord." Tessa blushed. "Please, there's no need for that. You're one of Dad's associates; you can call me Tessa. Unless you'd prefer the formality." "We try our best to observe the proprieties," Vector said with just a touch of wryness in his voice. Tessa gave a small chuckle. "Whatever you see fit." She turned back to Iriath. "Do you need medical attention? I can summon Quinn—" "No, no, there's no need," Iriath assured her. He needed to report the success of his mission as soon as possible. "What brings you to Quesh?" he asked, trying to distract her. She'd drag him to a medic herself if he didn't guide her down a different train of thought. "Oh, my master wants me here," she said, then raised an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you've heard..." "Heard what?" "Darth Baras is on the Dark Council now," Tessa said casually, as if it were as unimportant as the scuffs on her boots. Iriath's eyes widened. His daughter was apprenticed directly to a Dark Council member? "You're certainly doing well for yourself," he said, forcing a smile as worry shot through him. Tessa grinned proudly. "Don't tell anyone, but...I killed Darth Vengean myself." What. "I...Tessa..." he spluttered. "That's, um, impressive." She wasn't his little girl anymore. His sweet, cheerful Tessa didn't go around killing Dark Council members. Then again, he'd come damn close to fighting one himself. She giggled. She actually giggled. Maybe she hadn't changed as much as he thought. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I do have a rendezvous to make. Can you get to a medbay all right?" Iriath nodded. "My ship is docked at the station, and one of my crew is a doctor." Sort of. He wished Lokin would stop mentioning that his medical license was probably expired. Not that he had any particular desire to place his life in that man's hands, but still... "All right," Tessa said slowly. She lunged forward and hugged Iriath again, then trotted off across the base. He watched her go, frowning. "That was...interesting," Vector commented. Iriath glanced at him sidelong. "You're good at reading people, Vector. What was your impression of her?" Vector paused for a long moment before responding, as though considering his words carefully. "She had a certain...luminance to her aura that we have not seen before in a Sith." Iriath narrowed his eyes. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" "It's difficult to say," Vector admitted. "However, we are inclined to think that it is good." He gave a small shrug. "We're not sure why. It simply is." "That's comforting," Iriath told him, and meant it. Vector smiled faintly. "We are glad to be of service." "If you really wanted to be of service, you'd make this lift arrive faster," Iriath muttered dryly. Vector tilted his head to one side. "The Nest has no opinion on the timeliness of lifts. We, however, have resigned ourselves to being patient." "It's a virtue, or so they say," Iriath sighed, sticking his head out into the lift shaft and peering upwards. "It seems to be on its way." The explosion was barely audible as they made their way onto the shuttle up to the orbital station some time later. "Did you hear that?" Vector asked, frowning. Iriath nodded. "Probably nothing to worry about." I hope Tessa wasn't involved. And if she was...I hope she's all right. He longed to stay on the planet and catch up with her properly, but as always, duty came first. Edited May 10, 2013 by Vesaniae 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
bright_ephemera Posted May 10, 2013 Share Posted May 10, 2013 Tessa grinned proudly. "Don't tell anyone, but...I killed Darth Vengean myself." What. "I...Tessa..." he spluttered. "That's, um, impressive." She wasn't his little girl anymore. His sweet, cheerful Tessa didn't go around killing Dark Council members. The difficulties of being the parent to a Sith Warrior. Vector tilted his head to one side. "The Nest has no opinion on the timeliness of lifts. We, however, have resigned ourselves to being patient." Vector. I love you. The explosion was barely audible as they made their way onto the shuttle up to the orbital station some time later. "Did you hear that?" Vector asked, frowning. Iriath nodded. "Probably nothing to worry about." I hope Tessa wasn't involved. And if she was...I hope she's all right. He longed to stay on the planet and catch up with her properly, but as always, duty came first. Ow. I mean, boom, then ow. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vesaniae Posted May 11, 2013 Author Share Posted May 11, 2013 This will be the last crosspost from the SFC. Yes, it's the creepy bit. Read it again, and be disturbed again! Further exploration of this topic to follow! ...I'm enjoying this far too much. Tessa and Quinn - Starfrost Aboard Fury-class starship Starfrost 11 ATC Malavai Quinn had his orders. He did not particularly like them, but he would follow them without question. That was what he did. That was how he gave his universe structure and balance. He had been expecting Baras to turn on Tessa. In fact, he had recommended such a course of action to the Sith Lord himself. The girl was a liability. She was a gifted Sith, he could not deny that. She was rather unsure of herself, but that could be attested to her youth and inexperience. The problem was, her potential had been developed too soon, cultivated improperly. And that made her a threat. Quinn had expected Baras to turn on her. He had not expected her to survive. Baras had hinted for some time that he was planning on opposing the Emperor. Whatever doubts Quinn might have had about that had vanished utterly when he learned that this naïve, inexperienced girl, this child, had been chosen as the Emperor's Wrath. He had observed Tessa carefully ever since entering her service, and he had quickly come to the conclusion that on her own, she would never amount to much of anything among the Sith. A certain degree of ruthlessness was required to advance within the Empire, one that she simply did not possess. In short, she was weak. Quinn still had to work with her for the time being, however. He stood in parade rest on the bridge, waiting for her to come speak with him. She always did. He shifted his stance slightly as he heard her soft footfalls behind him. No, he did not like his orders, but he would follow them nonetheless. "Captain," Tessa said softly. "I can sense your tension. Is something wrong?" He turned to face her, letting his arms fall to his sides. He allowed some of his worry and discomfiture to show on his face. "Quinn?" Tessa asked when he did not say anything. She'd finally stopped blushing whenever she said his name. Her interest in him had been painfully obvious, but at least it had been easily rebuffed. For once, he'd been grateful for her good nature; another woman might have forced the issue. None of that mattered now, though. "My lord," Quinn said. "Thank you for your attention. I must officially request to be reassigned." That caught her focus, as he had known it would. Her jade-green eyes went wide. "I had no idea...why?" "For the sake of you and the crew," he said stiffly. "I fear I am compromised." Tessa frowned concernedly. "If you're experiencing some sort of difficulty, I would be more than willing to assist." "It's not that simple, my lord," Quinn murmured. He hesitated for a moment. Everything was going according to the script he had planned out. He had been able to predict Tessa's responses practically verbatim; she was so terribly easy to read. He knew what came next. He didn't want to say it, but he had to. If there was another way, he couldn’t see it. "I'm forced to admit that thoughts of you have begun to...distract me." Tessa's lips parted in surprise, her cheeks turning pink. "My feelings affect my ability to concentrate," Quinn continued quickly, trying to get the words out before he had more second thoughts. "I cannot in good conscience continue to serve." If only he truly had that option. Tessa looked at the floor, then up at him, then out the viewport behind him. He could almost see the gears turning in her head. This declaration would be a dream come true for her. She had been smitten with him since Balmorra. His earlier insistence that she keep her distance could be explained away as denial of his feelings; she knew how he liked to observe the proprieties. On the other hand, she was not cruel or selfish like other Sith. She would not force him to stay against his will. He watched her think it over. "It will be a shame to lose you," she said slowly, her face set. "But if reassignment is truly what you want, I'll grant it." Quinn very nearly took her up on it. But before the words could start to form on his tongue, he was stopped by the memory of Baras' voice. Get close to her, Captain. Do whatever you have to; she must come to rely on you utterly... Do whatever you have to. "No," he croaked, his mouth suddenly dry. He swallowed hard and continued, "I'm an idiot." An idiot for letting himself be forced into this situation. An idiot for seducing an innocent young woman who deserved better. An idiot for feeling such remorse about it. Tessa's face brightened. Do whatever you have to. "Permission to kiss you, my lord?" he asked, mentally cursing. Tessa smiled brilliantly. He didn't need the Force to feel the joy radiating from her. "You never need to ask." Quinn steeled himself as he took a step towards her. Somehow, he forced a smile onto his face as he slipped an arm around her waist and drew her to him, then kissed her. He crushed her mouth with his own, trying to focus on the primal sensations of a soft female body in his arms and not the fact that he didn't want this, or her, or any of it... After a few moments, he put her down. She was breathing hard, her eyes wide and almost worshipful as she stared up at him. He looked down at her face, reflecting absently that she was rather pretty. Best to focus on that, and not what he thought of her behavior and personality. He would probably have to sleep with her to cement this charade, and he would have to push past his personal feelings if he was to perform properly. It occurred to him after a few moments that he should probably say something. He fumbled desperately for words, and said the first workable thing that popped into his head."Now, more than just duty and honor will be driving my work." He was thoroughly taken aback when Tessa stepped forward, put her arms around him, squeezed him tightly, and then stepped away. "You'll see," she said. "Passion will make you stronger." "I am growing open to the idea, my lord," Quinn mumbled, looking away from her. Her smile could have melted Hoth. "I need to go prepare for the mission," she told him. "But I'll be back." "Very good, my lord," Quinn said, standing at attention. Tessa chuckled softly and all but skipped off the bridge. As soon as she left, Quinn slumped over into the pilot's chair, massaging his temples. Do whatever it takes. He understood quite well that it was not always possible to combat an enemy on even terms. Sometimes...underhanded...tactics were necessary in order to ensure one’s desired outcome. It was always an unpleasant business, and he tried to avoid it whenever possible. If it were up to him, he would have gladly continued to serve Tessa in a strictly professional capacity, then disposed of her at the first possible opportunity. There would be many, he knew it. She was far too trusting, especially of her allies. Unfortunately, when he had proposed this plan to Baras, the Sith Lord had rejected it immediately. It was too risky, he had said. Quinn had to be sure that when the appropriate time came to strike, he would be close enough to Tessa to carry out the act. And now he was that close, far closer than he had ever wanted to be to her. He shook his head. His personal feelings here were irrelevant. It was not his place to question his superior’s orders, whatever he might think of them. Any moral discomfiture on his part was a price that he was more than willing to pay to see the future of the galaxy secured. Compared to the Empire, both he and Tessa were nothing. Nothing at all. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vesaniae Posted May 11, 2013 Author Share Posted May 11, 2013 (edited) Tessa and Quinn - Starfrost (again) Aboard Fury-class starship Starfrost 11 ATC Every time Tessa woke up to find herself in bed with Quinn, she felt as if she might burst from sheer delight. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that this might actually happen. And yet there he was, asleep in her bed, and there she was, looking over at him with a contented smile on her lips. Pure joy. He had only started sharing her quarters a short while ago. Even after he had confessed his feelings for her, she had scarcely dared to hope that things might get that far. Quinn was, to be frank, as stubborn as a gundark with a head cold, and she'd had to wear away his walls a bit. Only a bit, though—she would never force him into anything he didn't want. Tessa propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him intently where he lay on his back next to her. His face was softer when he slept, a few of the hard lines smoothing and some of the coldness thawing. It was really quite attractive, though of course when he was sleeping she was unable to see his beautiful sapphire-blue eyes. She leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on one sculpted cheek, careful not to wake him. She was so fortunate to have a man like him. Quinn was intelligent, mature, and always mindful of her needs. Sure, he was considerably older than she was, but that meant that he had a greater experience and understanding of both the galaxy and himself. In these hectic times, she needed an advisor like him. With a small sigh, she lay back down, turning onto her side so she was facing him and tucking one hand under her head. She'd had difficulty sleeping of late. Some strange and subtle turning of the Force tugged at the back of her mind, disturbing her attempts to rest. What it meant, she did not have any idea at all. Tessa closed her eyes and resolved that this time, she was going to sleep, and stay asleep. She edged a little closer to Quinn's warmth, wanting to put her arms around him, but refrained from doing so. He probably wouldn't mind, but the thought of making such a move on his person seemed like an intrusion. A small, anxious part of her fretted that he might be offended. And so she remained where she was, feeling the soft pulse of his life-light in the Force, and slowly drifted off. Every time Quinn awoke to find himself in bed with Tessa, he thought he might be sick. He had only actually vomited once, after their first...intimacy. He'd done it quietly, in the refresher attached to her quarters, while she lay in bed still glowing with the rush of excitement from this new experience. The horror and self-loathing continued to well up within him after every interaction with her, but he managed to control himself. He cracked an eyelid and looked over at Tessa. She lay on her side facing him, one hand under her head, breathing with the steady rhythm of deep slumber. Opening his eyes all the way, he studied her face. She was quite pretty, he would not deny that. Not his type by any stretch of the imagination, but attractive enough that he could— A small shiver ran through him. It was more difficult every time. Everything was more difficult, now. How much longer could he hold out before he snapped and killed her, or himself? Emperor be praised, he would not have to discover the answer to that question. In the latest communication from his true master, Quinn had received new orders. Orders for Tessa's immediate assassination. It was, he reflected, past time. How would he do it? A knife in the back, or a blaster bolt? A pillow to cover that pretty face, a toxic compound in the kolto the next time she was injured? It would be simplicity itself to reach over right then and snap her slender neck. But the time was not right, and such a method would surely get him caught, so he refrained. He certainly did not love Tessa, and he only grudgingly respected her. That small respect was enough, however. When the hour arrived, he would give her a fighting chance. She was not a strong Sith, but she was still Sith. She deserved that much. And if she killed him, he would not have to live with the memory of all that he had done. Edited May 11, 2013 by Vesaniae Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
bright_ephemera Posted May 11, 2013 Share Posted May 11, 2013 How would he do it? A knife in the back, or a blaster bolt? A pillow to cover that pretty face, a toxic compound in the kolto the next time she was injured? It would be simplicity itself to reach over right then and snap her slender neck. And that would just be too easy, wouldn't it? Ves, this is tying my stomach up in knots I didn't know it could tie. Can't wait to see where it goes. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
irishfino Posted May 11, 2013 Share Posted May 11, 2013 Om nom nom. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MilaniGrey Posted May 11, 2013 Share Posted May 11, 2013 Eugh, utterly creepy. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vesaniae Posted May 12, 2013 Author Share Posted May 12, 2013 And that would just be too easy, wouldn't it? Ves, this is tying my stomach up in knots I didn't know it could tie. Can't wait to see where it goes. Well, if I were being a cryptic author person, I would say that it's going to go about where one would expect it to, and then take a sharp turn off the road and start plunging through the wild woods up the mountain. Om nom nom. Eugh, utterly creepy. I take it everything is working as intended, then. Probably no update today, since I'll be out of town for most of it. We'll see if I cook up anything in the evening. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vesaniae Posted May 13, 2013 Author Share Posted May 13, 2013 Tessa and Quinn - Transponder Station (dun dun dun) Transponder Station 11 ATC Tessa had a bad feeling. She trusted Quinn, of course. He would get them out of this predicament, as he always did. But she could not shake the sensation that trembled through the Force, telling her that things were about to go very wrong. She kept a hand on her lightsaber as she walked a few steps behind him, eyeing her surroundings warily. As they entered a large, empty room, Tessa lagged behind, trying to detect any ambushes or traps. Quinn moved to the center of the space, then turned around, a peculiar blank expression on his face. He folded his hands behind his back, watching her. The door slammed shut behind her, and she jumped. Her boots made an uncomfortably loud clatter as they hit the floor again an instant later. "Quinn," Tessa said tightly, "I don't like this. Something's wrong." "I wondered when you would catch on," he murmured. "What are you talking about?" she asked, frowning. "What's going on?" "This entire scenario has been a ruse," he explained blandly. Was that relief she felt emanating from him in the Force? "There's no martial law, and no special signal emitter." "So this is a trap, then," Tessa said. That explained her uneasy feelings, though not Quinn's odd behavior. "I'm surprised you didn't spot it earlier." "Just when I thought I had witnessed the full extent of your naïveté," he sighed, shaking his head. "This is my trap, my lord, and you walked right into it. As always, you are far too trusting." His voice was razor-sharp steel coated with ice. Tessa stumbled a few steps backward as she tried to process what he had just said. "You—you set a trap for me?" Quinn inclined his head. "Baras is my true master. He had me lure you here to have you killed." The world seemed to spin around her. "But you—you—" she stammered. "I thought—" He raised an eyebrow. "That I loved you? No." The spinning stopped, as if a gravity well had finished drawing her in and was now crushing her atom by atom. It all felt so utterly unreal. She stared at him and felt nothing. The words floated like oil over her mind, clouding the surface but failing to sink in. Quinn sighed and moved his hands out from behind his back, revealing some sort of remote controller device. "For what it's worth, I do wish there had been another way." "I don't understand," Tessa whispered, her voice sounding as if it were coming from a long way off. "You told me you loved me..." "My finest deception," Quinn said bitterly. "And my greatest shame." He depressed a control on the remote. The doors behind him slid open, and two war droids marched through to stand on either side of him, their optics fixed on Tessa. "These droids have been programmed specifically to fight you," he said—quickly, excitedly, as though he were overwhelmingly eager to explain the manner of her intended death. "Your odds of survival are quite negligible." She had no idea what she was supposed to say to that, and she probably could not have forced words past the lump in her throat anyway. She drew her lightsaber, more out of habit than out of any real comprehension of her situation, and let herself drop into a fighting stance. The Force gathered around her. "I'm sorry it's come to this, my lord," Quinn told her. And then, quieter, so softly that only the Force let her hear: "I'm sorry for everything." The droids opened fire, and Tessa moved. She felt nothing inside. No anger, no hatred, no fear; no emotions to fuel a dark fire. The Force moved around her and through her in an overwhelming tide, and she rode the waves. There was power there, power unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Not the pure light of a Jedi or the burning darkness that she had been taught to channel, but something else. Something colder, and quieter. Her mind curled up in a ball in a dark corner, shaking with horror at what was happening, and the Force flowed through her body and let her move with the current. She leaped across the room, leaving the droids firing uselessly at the space where she had been. Their tracking mechanisms strained to catch up as she hit the wall behind them with both feet, then launched herself forward, laying into the first droid with sweeping slashes of her blade. Its arms swiveled around, and she blocked a burst of cannon fire, deflecting the bolts straight into the droid's armored chassis. She sensed Quinn moving up behind her and she lashed out with the Force, buffeting him away. Then she was rolling to one side as the second droid fired in her direction. Tessa paused for a moment between the two droids, batting away their first few volleys. She had never felt such utter ease in combat. She had a strange feeling of assurance that she absolutely could defeat these enemies. As yet, she had no idea how, but she knew that it was possible. The Force knew the way, and she had given herself completely over to its guidance. The undamaged droid fired a missile just as Tessa launched herself up into the air. She skimmed over the top of the damaged droid, barely clearing it. She kicked in its optic as she went, then hit the ground in a crouch on the other side of it. The missile tracked her, tracing her path over the droid. If it had been following her head or her chest, it would have gone all the way around and blown up in her face. She had jumped at the last possible second, however, and its guidance systems had locked onto her feet. Tessa slashed the damaged droid's legs out from under it as the missile collided with its head. It collapsed in a smoking, sparking heap, and she dashed away lest it explode. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Quinn getting to his feet from where she had thrown him into a corner. She quickly turned towards the remaining droid, reaching out with the Force to grab its cannon arms and wrench them around. With a screech of rending metal, the arms snapped, sending huge clouds of sparks flying. A moment later, those sparks ignited the droid's remaining ammunition, and it exploded. Tessa whirled around to face Quinn just as he started shooting. She deflected the shots away into the walls and ceiling, forcibly ignoring the small voice telling her to wound him. When she denied that instinct, her feeling of invincibility began to drain away as the Force receded slightly. It still pulsed around her, but it no longer held her in its grip. Sith were not taught to disarm blaster-wielding opponents without actually taking their hands off, but she was able to alter the move at the last second and slice Quinn's blaster in half. He immediately dropped the useless weapon and started to draw a vibroknife. Tessa dropped her lightsaber, terrified that she might seriously hurt him, and lunged inside his attack, grabbing his wrist and wrenching it sharply. His fingers sprang open, and the blade bounced to the floor. She seized his other arm and bore down with the Force and her own strength, forcing him to his knees. "I underestimated you," he whispered, breathing hard. "Perhaps I always have..." He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "End this." "What?" she asked softly, knowing on some level what he meant but refusing to allow herself to understand fully. "Kill me," Quinn said hoarsely. His voice was almost pleading. She let go of his arms and took several steps backward. He remained on his knees, watching her. "I'm not going to kill you, Quinn," she told him firmly. "Then you are a fool." "Perhaps," she conceded, summoning her lightsaber to her hand and clipping it onto her belt. "But you aren't responsible for this. Baras ordered you to kill me, he probably coerced you—" "There was no coercion, you stupid girl!" Quinn hissed viciously. "I've wanted you dead for months." Tessa froze. "You're weak and a fool. The powers of the Sith are wasted on you." Quinn smiled coldly. "I wormed my way into your confidence, all so you would trust me too much to see the attack coming. Pretending to be attracted to you was repulsive, but necessary." She slowly moved towards him, feeling like she couldn't breathe. "My sacrifice," Quinn smirked, looking up at her with satisfaction. Gloating, even though he was at her mercy. "For the good of the Empire. Tell me, little girl, what have you sacrificed? Do you even understand what it is that you claim to fight for?" "I understand plenty," Tessa snapped. Anger was comforting, a warm balm on the wounds his words had incised. "I understand a great deal more than you think." She drew her lightsaber and ignited the blade. The dark side flared with it, hot and turbulent. "We'll see how weak you think I am when I'm finished with you." He continued to look at her with that smug little smirk. Gloating. Or...goading... If I kill him, the distant, rational part of her mind realized, he'll win. But I want to hurt him, she thought. He lied to me. He betrayed me. He told me he loved me, and I believed him... Tessa leaped towards Quinn and swung. He watched the violet blade calmly as it moved through the air towards him—and melted away, the hilt connecting solidly with his jaw. He tottered where he knelt, then collapsed, unconscious, to the floor. She scooped up his body with the Force, not wanting to touch him, and headed back towards her ship. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
irishfino Posted May 13, 2013 Share Posted May 13, 2013 Oh, Quinn, you cold bastard. Om nom nom. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ddarkangel Posted May 14, 2013 Share Posted May 14, 2013 (edited) Quinn, I want you die with your dear Darth Ball.... I think it would be good if Iriath send Vector to Tessa... Edited May 15, 2013 by ddarkangel Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
bright_ephemera Posted May 14, 2013 Share Posted May 14, 2013 She stared at him and felt nothing. The words floated like oil over her mind, clouding the surface but failing to sink in. "There was no coercion, you stupid girl!" Quinn hissed viciously. "I've wanted you dead for months." I think those two were my favorite parts. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Adwynyth Posted May 15, 2013 Share Posted May 15, 2013 I didn't think there was any incarnation of Quinn that I could possibly hate any more than the ones I've seen. ... BRAVO! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Vesaniae Posted May 15, 2013 Author Share Posted May 15, 2013 (edited) Oh, Quinn, you cold bastard. Om nom nom. I love Quinn, and I love to hate this Quinn. I enjoy writing him as sweet(ish) with A'tro, but it's very interesting to explore his cold, ruthless side. I think that all Quinns have an equal capacity for love and hatred hidden away deep inside of them, and their individual circumstances dictate how much of each is brought out. Quinn, I want you die with your dear Darth Ball.... I think it would be good if Iriath send Vector to Tessa... We shall see. I think those two were my favorite parts. Glad you liked! Edit: Adwynyth, you posted right when I posted! I'm glad my Quinn is proving sufficiently evil. Writing him like this is fun, although I admit that I kind of miss nice!Quinn from Afterimages... Tessa - Corellia Coronet Spaceport, Corellia 11 ATC Tessa wandered. She had wrapped herself in a black cloak and put the hood up, concealing her face. She was still obviously Sith, and no one bothered her as she meandered through the spaceport. Her surroundings swam a bit in her vision, as if it were all just a very vivid dream from which she could awaken at any moment. I wish. She was exhausted; she hadn't slept since before the...incident. His things were in her quarters, his equipment was in the medbay, his presence was everywhere on the ship, in both reality and the Force. She had tried to move his belongings out of her quarters, but the sight of his second pair of boots, perfectly polished, resting exactly perpendicular to the wall, made her quail. She found herself remembering the way he would sit on the edge of the bed and put those boots on in the morning, and so she ran out to the common room and huddled up on a chair. When she closed her eyes, she saw him, so she did not sleep. She dared not dream. He was locked in the cargo hold. Tessa could not help but feel his presence in the Force. It made her nauseous. What had she done? She had trusted him, told him everything—stars, she'd let him touch her, let him— She shivered as she crept along one of the spaceport's side corridors. She'd been a fool. Sith weren't supposed to trust people. She had once believed that doctrine to be paranoid and nonsensical. Now, she wished with all her might that she had followed it more closely. Tessa wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, as if it were a shield that she could use to ward off the memories. It didn't help. She could still feel his touch on her skin, still hear the things he'd whispered to her in the dark of the night. He had been so gentle, so sincere. Even after everything, she knew that deep down inside, a part of her would miss him. Maybe she should have killed him. It would be the Sith thing to do, and she had to be a good Sith, didn't she? Or maybe...maybe he had been right. Maybe the Emperor had made a mistake. What kind of a Wrath would shy away from killing a man who'd wronged her because she was too terrified to be in the same room with him long enough to do it? The ship's comm had gone off several times during the trip to Corellia. Perhaps the Hand, perhaps Baras calling to gloat. She didn't know. She'd turned it off. She was neglecting her responsibilities, but she could not make herself care. He would have urged her to do her duty. To the void with him. Tessa found herself rounding a corner into a more remote wing of the spaceport. She had not paid any real attention to where she was going, instead letting herself wander. Maybe the Force would guide her, as it had before. She slipped inside a hangar without even realizing it at first. Then her attention was caught by the elegant contours of the sleek silver starship that occupied the space. It was all smooth lines where her Starfrost was angles, and its polished metallic surface created a distorted reflection of its surroundings. The sight of the ship was so hypnotic that she failed to notice the individual sneaking up behind her until they had grabbed her and spun her around, yanking off her hood. Tessa tensed instinctively and tried to draw her lightsaber, but her arms were pinned. As the surge of adrenaline faded, she realized that she was face-to-face with her father. "Tessa?" Iriath asked, frowning. "What are you doing here?" "I..." she whispered, struggling for words. "I don't know." He started to relax his restraining hold, then tightened it again, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. "What happened the last time we talked before I left for Intelligence?" he demanded, his eyes cold and hard. Why was her father, of all people, acting like this? Was the whole galaxy against her now? "We—we talked," she stammered. "About you leaving, and I was worried, and—and you gave me your wedding ring. I still have it." "Do you have it with you?" Tessa nodded. "Show me." Iriath released her and stepped back, one hand moving to rest on his blaster. She reached under the neck of her armor and pulled up the fine chain upon which she kept the ring. She hadn't worn it in months, but some instinct had prompted her to grab it before she fled her quarters. She hadn't wanted to leave it there with the memories of him. Iriath snatched the ring and examined it carefully, then let it drop. The chain swung back and the ring made a soft, metallic thump against her chest plate. She stared down at it numbly, not even reacting when he put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry about that," he said quietly. "But I'm fighting people who can look like anyone, and, well..." He trailed off. "Are you all right?" She shook her head. "Tessa," he said gently, reaching under her chin with one hand and tilting her head up to look at him. "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong." "I..." she whispered, staring up into eyes that were exactly the same color as her own. "I don't..." He was her father. He cared for her, she could feel it in the Force. I never felt that from him. Why didn't that make me wonder? "Tessa," Iriath said again, a small thread of panic slipping into his Force-signature. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm here for you." Something inside her broke. The next thing she knew, she had her arms wrapped tightly around him, her face was buried in his chest, and she was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. Edited May 15, 2013 by Vesaniae Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
irishfino Posted May 15, 2013 Share Posted May 15, 2013 Eeheeheee, angry dad is gonna ROFLstomp Quinn. Mmm conflict. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts