One interesting tidbit I think alot of people overlook with Satele and Theron's relationship is that while she was pregnant, she was absolutely ready to burn the worlds to ash for him and would have fallen to the dark side if something would have happened while he was in her care and that was the main reason she gave him away.
Does it make what she did any better? No. But I can understand why she did it.
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"Alright, Master Satele, Darth Marr... What have you learned in your retreat? How do I defeat Valkorian?"
Satele Shan: "Uhh, believe in yourself?"
Darth Marr: "Sit on the fence?"
"..."
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❛ it would have been better to die. ❜ for the sentence starters! I'd love to read some swtor but if another world speaks to you more then go for it ^^
(This may or may not show up in a future chapter in some form- this version is emphatically a draft and I’m still working out the dynamic between these two, so we’ll call this a character study.)
SWTOR. Nine and Satele.)
*
“-because of a lie?” Satele raises an eyebrow over the rim of her cup. “Forgive me, but I’d have thought Theron would be used to that.”
“Because you know him so well?” Void, she’s got to get out of here. When she tries to sit up, though, her head throbs ominously where it had slammed against the canyon wall and her nerves hum electric and she sighs, settling back onto the pillow. She could use another kolto syringe or even a few tablets of painkiller but she owes her too much already so she turns to her side instead, face toward the cabin wall. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she mutters, “particularly not with you. Look, I appreciate that you rescued me, but-”
If that registered there’s no sign of it in Satele’s voice, as even and unperturbed as ever. “You would have died there otherwise. The shade stalkers were already swarming when I found you.”
Nine sighs. “Or you’d have killed me. You told me that already.”
“Not once I was reasonably certain you were still you.”
“You ought to have left me.” With her eyes closed the pain quiets. “It would have been better if I’d died. At least with him inside my head he couldn’t hurt anyone else, or if I’d died here alone maybe I’d have dragged him down with me to the hells. Now he’s loose again and-” oh, stars- “we’ve got to warn them. If he tries here what he did on Ziost-” The cup clinks gently against the floor grate, the little crate scraping backward as the Jedi rises to press her hand against her forehead. It was meant to calm her, she thinks, but it reminds her for a moment of the restraining strap in the chair at the Intelligence Tower and she twists away abruptly- or tries to, her body hopelessly tangled in the thin blanket.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Ciph-” Satele catches herself neatly; she barely heard the correction- “Commander, and he’s not going to hurt Odessen. Be calm.”
When she rolls onto her back she’s looking down at her and the color’s wrong but oh, her eyes look so much like Theron’s. “You can’t know that.”
“I do. He’s still tethered to you-” (but he said- she interrupts, and Satele raises a hand to quiet her)- “and he will be until he is destroyed or you die. If he wanted to leave you to claim another host or draw more power he’d have done so at the first possible opportunity, which would suggest that he’s incapable of it. So either he truly believes you’re the best option he has, which seems unlikely, or you’re the only option he has. Why did he hurt you?”
“Now you’ve hurt my feelings.”
Force, even her eyeroll’s just like his. “I only meant that you aren’t Force sensitive- or weren’t, though it’s difficult to separate you from how he’s changed you. It breaks a pattern he began a thousand years ago, that he deliberately bred into his heirs, and I cannot imagine it was intentional.” Satele shrugs, settling back down onto the crate. “I suspect he thought he could simply shunt you aside and assume control.”
She carefully unwinds the blanket from around her legs. “More fool he, then.” No one controls her. Never. Never again. “And to answer your question, he thinks that if he keeps hurting me that eventually I’ll give in and let him help. I said no.” Her belly twinges. “Again.”
“And yet you’re still alive. Still you.”
“Yes,” she says quietly. The light’s hurting her head again; she closes her eyes tight against it. “For what little that’s worth.”
“It might be worth everything,” Satele murmurs. “It might be worth the galaxy.”
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