Malavai looked up from his paperwork, allowing his gaze to drift slowly over to the figure at the far end of the room. He couldn’t figure out what to make of the woman. He had kept a careful list of all the times she had breached Imperial regulations, he often reviewed it in disbelief at how quickly she accumulated infractions. If he didn’t know better he would have suspected she was doing it on purpose.

The list, of course, was purely for his own benefit. Sith were not expected to meet the same expectations as rank and file Imperials, but Malavai kept it as a reminder, a reminder of all the reasons he should keep his relationship with her purely professional. Yet, he couldn’t help but contemplate on the fact he had never required such encouragement before. Why then, should a young, impulsive sith cause him so much discomfort? What was it about her that left him replaying their interactions in his head when he should be working?

She was undoubtedly beautiful. Her petite frame belied her lethal nature, and her movements were graceful and confident; almost as if she was performing a subtle dance with every motion. While Malavai wasn’t blind to her physical appeal, the constant attention from men she received at every port would have been enough to inform even the most oblivious companion. But, physical attraction alone couldn’t account for his current distress. There was something more… something in the way she held herself, the passion burning beneath the surface, barely contained within her supple frame. He had never experienced such raw energy refined into such a pointed weapon, truly she embodied everything he’d ever imagined a sith could be. Baras was efficient, but she was power personified. Just being near her gave him a thrill, and such feelings were dangerous.

He discretely glanced at her again, reminding himself of how much younger she was, how casually flirtatious, how emotional, but it was useless. Every protest rang hollow, in some strange way all the traits that he normally detested only intrigued him more. Malavai inadvertently let out a heavy sigh, a subconscious admission of defeat.

Hearing the sound, the sith finally seemed to notice she was being observed. She turned around and questioned Malavai sincerely, “Everything alright Quinn? You’ve been acting strange lately. We’ll be docking soon, and I’ll need my captain operating at peak efficiency.” She said the last words in a playful tone, alluding to a prior conversation.

Malavai looked down, slightly flustered at being caught. “No my Lord, I’m ready and willing as always.”

The sith walked across the room and stood behind him. She leaned in letting her arms hang lightly on his shoulders as she talked softly in his left ear, “You don’t seem to be getting much work done captain, is something distracting you?” She stood up straight again and chuckled gently.

Malavai remained carefully seated, desperate to project his usual calm and cold demeanor, but his mind was on fire. Her voice was like a current, and his body a live wire still echoing the energy she sent coursing through him. Whether by fortune or mercy, the sith seemed not to have noticed Malavai’s current state as she left the room, although Malavai suspected the former as she seemed to take excessive pleasure in teasing him.

Regardless, Quinn was now allowed a moment’s reprieve to calm himself. Even as the excitement faded, the realization still remained. Malavai had fallen for her, and the next time she tempted him, he might not be able to resist.

Corso had always been a sucker for a pretty smile, but he had no idea they made women like her. They hadn’t been traveling together for more than a few months, but he already knew he’d be by her side as long as she’d let him.

The Captain wasn’t exactly what you’d call, “ladylike”, but she did have her own array of feminine charms. The way her hips swayed when she walked, the way she toyed absent-mindedly with hair, and especially the way she giggled after sucker punching the idiots who underestimated her. Corso wasn’t the only one to be drawn in by her, in fact, she seemed to have that effect on most men. They could hardly get from one place to another without some new sleazebag popping up out of the woodwork offering her fancy dinners and promises of unforgettable nights. Her “suitors” were all the same, they saw her as some conquest to brag about, or jewel to add to their collection. It’s not like he blamed them for wanting her, you’d have to be blind to not notice she was the prettiest thing this side of the galaxy, but none of them cared anything for her. They’d just as soon take advantage of her as they would some lucrative business deal.

Corso took a deep drink from the bottle he’d been keeping close all afternoon. He wondered why she played along with it, didn’t she realize she deserved so much better? He tried to tell her as much, show her how a real man should treat a lady, but she always laughed him off. He was becoming convinced she did it just to tease him. It all felt like an elaborate game, she’d say something flirty to another man and get Corso all riled up, and just when he thought he couldn’t take it, she’d just leave the other guy hanging and come bouncing back to the ship, and to him.

Corso sighed and leaned back in his chair, wondering if it was just wishful thinking to imagine she returned his feelings. He wanted to pretend he had her all figured out but trying to pin her down was like trying to hold on to an oiled-up Monkey-Lizard.

As the last shot of alcohol hit his system, so did a newfound resolve. He was going to tell her, tonight. Whatever she may or may not feel, he knew how he felt, and that was enough. He glanced around looking for the nearest chronometer. It would be at least a couple more hours before the Captain would be back from the supply run, and that was assuming she didn’t run late, which she always did. He knew what he wanted to say, all that was left to do was figure out how to say it. He looked at the unopened bottle of Corelian Red sitting next to him and started imagining all the various ways he could make a fool of himself, but it was worth it for her.

Aric’s hands moved deftly between the separate parts of his sniper rifle, working in concert to reassemble the weapon into its familiar form. As he forced the power cell into place, he glanced at the chronometer sitting next to him, “Hmph. 28 seconds… I’m losing my edge.” The cathar was visibly irritated at the several second increase from his usual time.

He furrowed his brow in determination and began the process of fieldstripping his rifle again, glancing furtively at the chronometer as he worked. He slammed the pieces together more forcefully as he began the reassembly, growing frustrated as the seconds ticked by. “27 seconds,” he growled as he finished.

It was nearly impossible to consciously increase the speed of individual movements, the process relied almost entirely upon muscle memory and focus. He took a deep breath and attempted to clear his mind of any… unwanted thoughts before beginning again, keeping precise track of his progress as he worked. “Almost there….” he whispered under his breath as he noted the time.

“Talking to yourself again Jorgan?” a familiar voice called out from the other room, it's owner the source of Aric's distracted state of mind.

Aric tensed slightly at the unexpected sound, halting his movements only momentarily, but enough to throw off the attempt. He absent-mindedly completed the assembly, not bothering to keep track of how long it took. “Can I help you sir?” Aric responded instinctively to his CO.

“I thought maybe it was you who could use the help. You’ve been holed up on the ship all day. We’re on leave Jorgan, you should really take a moment to relax. Why not come grab a drink with me? I’ve been told the local Cantina makes a decent Alderaanian Sour.” The Lieutenant’s tone was genial, and the offer tempting.

Jorgan took a moment to consider the implications of spending a night out with the Lieutenant. He’d been thinking about her more than he’d like to admit the last few weeks. "28 seconds," he reminded himself. He knew exactly why he wasn't clocking the normal speed on his battle-ready procedures.

He looked back to the Lieutenant. She was one hell of a woman, but she was also his CO. He wasn't a stranger to breaking the rules when he felt the situation called for it, but women, relationships, that was all uncharted territory for him. Aric was experienced enough to know that unknown variables were the most dangerous, but also that the greatest rewards came with risk.

The larger issue was that he had no clue how she felt about him. There had been the occasional suggestive comment from her, the likely culprit of his more… unprofessional thoughts, but it was hardly conclusive. If he crossed that line, things could get messy, and an elite unit like Havoc didn't have time to waste on in-fighting and drama. Jorgan couldn't deny he was interested, but he also had to tread carefully. He needed to step back, analyze the situation.

She had hinted she shared his interest with her comments, but she’d made similar playful remarks to that SIS sleaze Jonas Balkar, and Jorgan was convinced she couldn't possibly be attracted to that son-of-a-hutt. The very thought of Jonas filled Aric with a perplexing sense of competitiveness. Aric suddenly felt a reckless abandon take hold.

“You know what Lieutenant? I think I’ll take you up on that,” Jorgan said decisively. “Haven’t had a good drink in ages,” Jorgan paused briefly before adding, “besides, it’d be nice to get to see what you’re like when you aren’t leading the republic’s most elite unit into battle.”

The Lieutenant looked pleasantly surprised at Aric’s boldness. She gave him a coy smile before excusing herself to freshen up before they headed out. “Take that, Balkar,” Jorgan thought smugly as any lingering concerns faded into the background.

Corso had always been a sucker for a pretty smile, but he had no idea they made women like her. They hadn’t been traveling together for more than a few months, but he already knew he’d be by her side as long as she’d let him.

The Captain wasn’t exactly what you’d call, “ladylike”, but she did have her own array of feminine charms. The way her hips swayed when she walked, the way she toyed absent-mindedly with hair, and especially the way she giggled after sucker punching the idiots who underestimated her. Corso wasn’t the only one to be drawn in by her, in fact, she seemed to have that effect on most men. They could hardly get from one place to another without some new sleazebag popping up out of the woodwork offering her fancy dinners and promises of unforgettable nights. Her “suitors” were all the same, they saw her as some conquest to brag about, or jewel to add to their collection. It’s not like he blamed them for wanting her, you’d have to be blind to not notice she was the prettiest thing this side of the galaxy, but none of them cared anything for her. They’d just as soon take advantage of her as they would some lucrative business deal.

Corso took a deep drink from the bottle he’d been keeping close all afternoon. He wondered why she played along with it, didn’t she realize she deserved so much better? He tried to tell her as much, show her how a real man should treat a lady, but she always laughed him off. He was becoming convinced she did it just to tease him. It all felt like an elaborate game, she’d say something flirty to another man and get Corso all riled up, and just when he thought he couldn’t take it, she’d just leave the other guy hanging and come bouncing back to the ship, and to him.

Corso sighed and leaned back in his chair, wondering if it was just wishful thinking to imagine she returned his feelings. He wanted to pretend he had her all figured out but trying to pin her down was like trying to hold on to an oiled-up Monkey-Lizard.

As the last shot of alcohol hit his system, so did a newfound resolve. He was going to tell her, tonight. Whatever she may or may not feel, he knew how he felt, and that was enough. He glanced around looking for the nearest chronometer. It would be at least a couple more hours before the Captain would be back from the supply run, and that was assuming she didn’t run late, which she always did. He knew what he wanted to say, all that was left to do was figure out how to say it. He looked at the unopened bottle of Corelian Red sitting next to him and started imagining all the various ways he could make a fool of himself, but it was worth it for her.

Aric’s hands moved deftly between the separate parts of his sniper rifle, working in concert to reassemble the weapon into its familiar form. As he forced the power cell into place, he glanced at the chronometer sitting next to him, “Hmph. 28 seconds… I’m losing my edge.” The cathar was visibly irritated at the several second increase from his usual time.

He furrowed his brow in determination and began the process of fieldstripping his rifle again, glancing furtively at the chronometer as he worked. He slammed the pieces together more forcefully as he began the reassembly, growing frustrated as the seconds ticked by. “27 seconds,” he growled as he finished.

It was nearly impossible to consciously increase the speed of individual movements, the process relied almost entirely upon muscle memory and focus. He took a deep breath and attempted to clear his mind of any… unwanted thoughts before beginning again, keeping precise track of his progress as he worked. “Almost there….” he whispered under his breath as he noted the time.

“Talking to yourself again Jorgan?” a familiar voice called out from the other room, it's owner the source of Aric's distracted state of mind.

Aric tensed slightly at the unexpected sound, halting his movements only momentarily, but enough to throw off the attempt. He absent-mindedly completed the assembly, not bothering to keep track of how long it took. “Can I help you sir?” Aric responded instinctively to his CO.

“I thought maybe it was you who could use the help. You’ve been holed up on the ship all day. We’re on leave Jorgan, you should really take a moment to relax. Why not come grab a drink with me? I’ve been told the local Cantina makes a decent Alderaanian Sour.” The Lieutenant’s tone was genial, and the offer tempting.

Jorgan took a moment to consider the implications of spending a night out with the Lieutenant. He’d been thinking about her more than he’d like to admit the last few weeks. "28 seconds," he reminded himself. He knew exactly why he wasn't clocking the normal speed on his battle-ready procedures.

He looked back to the Lieutenant. She was one hell of a woman, but she was also his CO. He wasn't a stranger to breaking the rules when he felt the situation called for it, but women, relationships, that was all uncharted territory for him. Aric was experienced enough to know that unknown variables were the most dangerous, but also that the greatest rewards came with risk.

The larger issue was that he had no clue how she felt about him. There had been the occasional suggestive comment from her, the likely culprit of his more… unprofessional thoughts, but it was hardly conclusive. If he crossed that line, things could get messy, and an elite unit like Havoc didn't have time to waste on in-fighting and drama. Jorgan couldn't deny he was interested, but he also had to tread carefully. He needed to step back, analyze the situation.

She had hinted she shared his interest with her comments, but she’d made similar playful remarks to that SIS sleaze Jonas Balkar, and Jorgan was convinced she couldn't possibly be attracted to that son-of-a-hutt. The very thought of Jonas filled Aric with a perplexing sense of competitiveness. Aric suddenly felt a reckless abandon take hold.

“You know what Lieutenant? I think I’ll take you up on that,” Jorgan said decisively. “Haven’t had a good drink in ages,” Jorgan paused briefly before adding, “besides, it’d be nice to get to see what you’re like when you aren’t leading the republic’s most elite unit into battle.”

The Lieutenant looked pleasantly surprised at Aric’s boldness. She gave him a coy smile before excusing herself to freshen up before they headed out. “Take that, Balkar,” Jorgan thought smugly as any lingering concerns faded into the background.