#swtor fic

[lavampira]

OCKISS24 — DAY 2

prompt: rain [@ockissweek] pair: swtor ocs; cadrien x minaiph [belongs to @hythlodaes] word count: 1050

The first morning back on Dromund Kaas, it rains.

And not just a simple shower, but a downpour that spatters heavily across the balcony, thunder rumbling through his bare feet as Cadrien stands beneath the awning. He’s heard others complain of it endlessly over the years. Too dreary with all the rain, too humid with its untamed, sprawling jungles, too dangerous should the spires fail, but to him, it’s home.

A home where Min and he have finally returned.

Cadrien sips from a steaming mug of tea, taking in the rhythmic sound and flits of energy through the Force as a crack of lightning strikes a distant spire. It reminds him of a conversation with Jaesa as an apprentice years ago, how beauty can be found in the Force, too, that it isn’t all that the Sith say. That the manner he perceives as a Miraluka is no less than the way others may see and experience awe.

But none of the morning’s beauty comes close to capturing his attention like the vibrant figure that materializes behind him.

Familiar hands easily wind around his bare waist, palms rough from a life honed in battle yet gentle as they slip across his skin. Equally familiar lips press to his nape with a breath that ghosts down his spine, and he tilts his neck in anticipation of another kiss there, but instead, those same lips meet the gnarled scar of his shoulder.

“You know, it’s much too early,” Min says, his deep voice still thick with sleep. “We could still be in bed for another few hours.”

Cadrien resists the urge to laugh. “You could’ve stayed if you wanted, Min.”

“The problem with that is you weren’t there to keep me warm. You left me, cold and alone, to brood in the rain.”

“I’m not brooding,” Cadrien grumbles.

A quiet breath huffs against him as Min shifts, draping a soft fabric around both of them. A blanket, Cadrien thinks distantly, one that he must’ve dragged off of the bed in his drowsy search for him. The idea threatens to pull his lips into a hint of a smile, and he can’t suppress it once Min hooks his chin over his shoulder to rest, comfortably fitted as if he belongs there, always, like every slope of Cadrien has been shaped for him and him alone.

“It’s… peaceful,” Cadrien adds, leaning into the taller man. “I’ve missed mornings like this.”

Min hums. “It has been a long time.”

“Too long.”

Bitterness seeps into the low rumble of his own voice, more than he intends. Min assuages him with a sweep of his thumb on his abdomen, still holding the blanket around them, careful not to jostle his tea, but a comfort all the same. Cadrien reaches for the arm around him, giving a grateful squeeze before threading their fingers.

At least when Korriban had fallen, when even the remnants of the Dark Council had bowed to Zakuul’s reign, they still had each other. The Claws had stood in defiance and were hunted across the expanse of stars both charted and uncharted, so much time wasted to the pride and foolishness of others, but their partnership has always been their greatest strength, and so they still live.

Min draws him from his thoughts with a kiss that finally meets the slope of his neck, his lips curling in a smirk against his tender skin. “Now you’re brooding, Cade.”

“Perhaps,” Cadrien concedes.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. We’re home now. That’s all that matters.”

“Then tell me about home,” Min says, slipping into that genuine curiosity that always brings him back to two boys among Korriban’s sands, one trailing after the other with an endless supply of questions. Once it had pestered him, but Cadrien has grown to love it more with each day. “What is the rain like to you?”

Yet another familiarity, this one. A habit they’ve forged in seeking the galaxy in each other’s view. Cadrien pauses with his mug halfway to his lips, considering the words to paint the visual for him. Min is patient, rubbing small circles into his skin with his thumb, as he grants him that time. Rarely so patient with others, but always with him.

“Faint, but… flickering. Brief flashes of the Force with each drop. The lightning is brighter, but more distant.” Cadrien ducks his chin, the dangling jewel on his mask brushing his temple with the motion. “You drown it out, though.”

“Me?” Min blurts with a startled laugh.

“You’re the brightest, most vibrant part of everything, Min.”

It’s ridiculous, really, how his heart races in his chest. Cadrien has sworn his love to this man a million times over by now, and the same in turn, but still, his admission leaves him raw, so exposed under the gaze he knows has found him, even if he can’t see it. And yet, never has he felt more safe than he does with Min’s arms around him and his heart in his hands.

“Get rid of this,” Min demands as he reaches for his mug, leaning away only briefly to set it aside somewhere, anywhere. “I need to kiss you now.”

Cadrien fully laughs this time, low and rough, but turns to face him more fully. A moment barely passes before Min crashes into him, palms cupping his face as their lips meet. The blanket flutters away from them, faint from their residual touch on it before it vanishes, his entire perception nothing but the glowing man in front of him. His own hands reach for Min’s hips for purchase, letting one slide beneath the hem of his shirt and up his warm torso to feel for the jagged scar that once saved his life.

Min’s urgency melts with the touch. It’s a simple understanding, their mutual devotion and how far each would go to ensure that the other continues to breathe, and the fact that they can savor this moment on the world where they built their names together is a reminder of the worth. There’s no need for rush when they have the rainfall and thunder crashing around them, and their languid touch with each kiss, and the promise of more mornings like this one, an entire future ahead of them together.

#dani writes things #ockiss24 #ockissweek #oc: cadrien tirai #minaiph #cadrien/min #swtor #swtor fic

[queen-scribbles]

Unwise

Haaaappy birthday to the Blueberry Jedi, as I simultaneously embarrass her and write the last piece standing between her/Arcann and the official "begin a relationship" step. >:3 I've mentioned before that she can be surprisingly horny, right?

---

Her heart pounded in her chest, the pulses of emotion she could sense from him making it beat faster, faster. His fingers brushed the juncture of her hip and she twined a leg over his to keep them close, a kiss pressed to the hollow of her throat had his name falling from her lips on a gasp--

She jerked awake, heart actually pounding, heat still twisting in her core, and very much alone. No company, least of all him.

Stars above, where did that come from?! Endrali wondered. She ran both trembling hands through her hair, clenching them around fistfuls at her nape, then immediately let go as if it had burned her.

Not a good idea with that dream still fresh in her mind's eye. Not that he would ever...

Endrali sat up, tenting her knees, and willed all her focus into clearing her thoughts. Slow, deep breaths. In. Out. She was on a planet full of Force users, some almost as strong as she was; the last thing she wanted was for these emotions to linger long enough someone picked up on them. In. Out. Calm your mind.

The meditative quiet that usually came easy was elusive this time.

She'd never had a dream like that before...

Sparring. That's where this came from, sparring yesterday. Tank tops. More single blade practice for her. Arcann was more comfortable with it now, more convinced it was not an unwise course of action. (The fact she'd playfully shoved him halfway across the room with the Force probably helped. As reassurance.) He'd actually smiled helping her back to her feet when they finished. "You are improving."

That's what had done her in, that smile, she mused. That he was comfortable enough, relaxed enough, to drop his guard around her, if not on the base as a whole.

The--imagined, she reminded herself sternly--memory of fingers tracing skin mingled with the feel of his hand around hers as he hauled her up and Endrali bit her lip. This wasn't helping. She shoved the dream down and buried, but it kept poking through, heat shimmering in her thoughts.

That wouldn't do; someone--stars forbid Arcann or Senya--would pick up on it at this rate. She needed to do something off-planet today, and the sooner she could leave the better. Endrali flicked on the lights and pulled up Alliances messages on her datapad as she dressed.

Right at the first, there was an urgent alert, forwarded by Theron at an hour that tempted Endrali to yell at him about his sleep schedule again--a pirate gang ambushed a patrol and got their hands on Odessen security data. They were selling to the highest bidder, from their base on Tatooine.

Good distance for taking a whole day without keeping her away too long. She finished shrugging on the tan and ochre robes and turned her attention to the main conundrum.

Who did she ask to come along and how did she explain it not being Arcann?

She'd dragged him everywhere for months, because they were friends now, because he'd been first choice for watching her back ever since she realized how well they clicked, because she was comfortable with him. It was going to raise eyebrows if she took someone else along for 'no reason'.

(There was, of course, a very good reason--no way she could hide these emotions from the object of them. But she couldn't say that. 'You didn't do anything wrong, Arcann, I just had a really vivid sex dream about you--us--and need some distance to clear my head!' She valued his friendship and trust too much to blow it apart like that.)

So. She couldn't bring Arcann, for obvious reasons. Couldn't bring Senya, for equally obvious reasons. Lana and any other Sith or Jedi were probably also a bad idea; it was proving nigh impossible to banish the curl of lingering heat. Theron or Vette would notice her agitated state and badger her until she spilled details, Koth and Felix were handling something for Admiral Aygo...

Wish Nadia was here. That would be the perfect solution. She wouldn't mind spilling her guts to her best friend, and Nadia's Force sensitivity was such she'd catch the meaning of any emotion Endrali couldn't put into words.

But she wasn't here. She was Force only knew where, hopefully alright. Safe.

Endrali sighed and ran her fingers along the etched hilt of her dualsaber. Although, thinking of Felix and Nadia turned her thoughts to the rest of her old crew....

Qyzen. Qyzen was here, he wasn't Force aware to pick anything up, and he wouldn't prod for her thoughts. And they'd spent plenty of time fighting together, and he'd done several hunts on Tatooine, which gave him familiarity with the terrain.

Qyzen was perfect. Trusted ally, skilled warrior, perfectly happy following the Scorekeeper's Herald without needless personal questions. Now she just had to track him down and get out of here without running into certain people.

Fingers traced the curve of her spine, metal warm from prolonged contact--

Endrali bit the inside of her cheek, shook her head, tried to take a few deep breaths and push the thought away. And the faster she could get off planet the better. Lingering seemed unwise.

---

Qyzen was, thankfully, not hard to find. He and the Warstalkers tended to keep to the military wing. He did, however, seem surprised by her request.

[Something is wrong, that you need me?] he asked, examining her keenly.

Endrali shook her head, tucking hair behind one ear. "I have to get back some data a pirate gang stole, and they're based on Tatooine. You've hunted there several times, I thought your knowledge of the planet would come in handy."

[Whatever the Herald needs] He inclined his head. [I have all that is needed.]

Her brows twitched and she looked him over again. Sure enough, even for a quiet day on Odessen, he was armored and carried his techblade. "Alright, then."

She thought she caught a glimpse of Arcann as they headed for the Cadence, but didn't dare look, lest her tenuous, desperate grip on those thoughts unravel entirely.

The door whooshed closed behind them, the fresh air a welcome change even if she didn't slow to enjoy it. She did smile at the sight of her snow orchids bobbing in a breeze.

Scarred skin under her wandering touch, down jaw, neck, shoulder. Nails digging in to leave her own marks as they pressed close-

Stop. It. Endrali scolded herself, face hot. She wasn't sure what she'd do for all the empty hours between here and Tatooine, but hopefully she'd find something, or she was in trouble.

---

Arcann happened to reach the hanger bay just in time to catch sight of Endrali, fully dressed and geared, heading toward the door to her personal landing pad.

It was early to be starting for somewhere. Even if the purposeful stride of herself and her Trandoshan friend made it seem important. He hadn't even had time to process Endrali was going somewhere without him when a voice spoke next to him.

"Must be dealin' with the pirates." When he flinched and turned, he saw the underworld liaison. She took his glance as curiosity and elaborated. "Dust Vipers hit a patrol, stole security data. They went to ground on Tatooine while they try to auction it off. Commander must be dealing with it." She cocked her head. "Gotta say, surprised she didn't take you, way you two've been joined at the hip the past few months."

As am I. He buried the thought. "She is free to choose whoever she wishes to accompany her."

Visz snorted. "I know that. She'd just been pickin' you a lot. Guess there's somethin' makes Qyzen a better fit this time." She shrugged and kept walking. Arcann stared at the door that had closed behind Endrali and Qyzen.

He instinctively started combing his memory for anything he had done wrong, then caught himself.

Endrali was not Valkorion. On the--rare--occasions someone hurt or displeased her, she talked to them. The cold shoulder as a punishment was not her way, and it was unwise to let himself worry for no reason.

Driven by curiosity than anything, Arcann reached out through the Force for a sense of her-

-and ran into an impenetrable wall that made his brow furrow. Endrali was never so closed with her emotions. Protecting deeper thoughts, yes, but she'd never barricaded even the surface so tightly, not in all the months since he'd joined the Alliance. And even before.

The dull roar of her ship's engine came through the door, and Arcann waited for it to fade before heading that direction. He'd wanted to meditate(--with her, but that part was not meant to be now--)and she clearly wouldn't need the space.

---

However difficult it was to clear her mind during the journey, Tatooine's heat alone was enough to distract her once they arrived.

[Herald, where is our quarry?] Qyzen asked.

"Oh, um..." Endrali fumbled to pull out the datapad with information. She'd been in such a state she hadn't really focused on anything beyond 'stolen data', 'Tatooine', and that it was urgent enough to get her off Odessen quickly. She could sense Qyzen's concern as he watched her.

[To be unprepared, is unusual.] he said. [Everything is alright?]

"I'm fine," Endrali promised. "Just didn't want to waste time before leaving, this sounded urgent."

Both statements were true, even if the connection wasn't, per se.

Qyzen seemed to accept it, though she wasn't sure if his not pointing out the hours she could've read it en route was decorum or not recognizing the opportunity.

"The Dust Vipers are based in the Dune Sea," Endrali said, finally locating the info in Hylo's report.

[I follow you,] Qyzen said. [Are prepared?]

"Mmhm." She better be, heading into the Dune Sea. It would swallow the unprepared whole, and she didn't want that. So they were prepared, and she would stay focused on the task at hand. They didn't have much on the Dust Vipers and she didn't want to make assumptions of their capabilities.

Hope they're enough of a challenge to satisfy Qyzen and distract me, Endrali thought as the speeder headed out from Anchorhead.

---

She got her wish. While not as tough as Commander Tassar's forces, or fanatical as the Sith on Ord Mantell, the Dust Vipers were no pushovers--through sheer numbers if nothing else.

They must run some recruitment drives, she mused dryly before considering maybe they'd simply pulled all their forces to protect the base, knowing the Alliance would respond. Many of them hadn't been expecting her, personally, to handle it, if their panicked oaths and the ripple of shock in the Force were anything to go by.

It's their bad luck I needed the distraction. Endrali ripped a chunk of rock out of a precipice and hurled it at one set of hasty barricades. It knocked them aside and flattened the pirates using them for cover. Qyzen swept through the new opening to reach more pirates further up the slope.

The catwalks up to this point had been bad enough, doubling back repeatedly to climb the rock face in a zigzag that gave the Vipers a decided advantage. But more rock walls blocked in the climbing path, funneling them in one direction--toward a healthy scattering of pirates, beasts and barricades.

However, Endrali and Qyzen had quickly fallen back in sync, fighting together. (Even if it was a little odd fighting with someone not Force-aware after so long with Arcann--)

None of that, she scolded herself, flinging a pair of pirates into the canyon wall and spinning to cut down another behind her. Not a good idea to undermine the distraction.

They gained the summit and Endrali paused to catch her breath.

[Is all broodlings so far,] Qyzen commented, looking back at the bodies left in their wake. [Barely worth points.]

Endrali chuckled. "They do add up, though. And I'm sure we'll find someone worthy to fight soon; no way they'll let us just waltz inside the walls of their base." She fell silent, nudging the carcass of a sand tusker with her boot.

[What thoughts, Herald?]

"These are known for their hostility," she said half under her breath, "they should be attacking everything, not just us."

Qyzen nodded thoughtfully. [Agreed. Is odd.]

"Maybe if we can figure out what they're doing, we can wreck it, and then the beasts will go after the pirates, too."

[Whatever small prey uses, is unwise to stand against Scorekeeper's Herald,] he said, scanning over the bodies of men and beasts who had paid for doing so.

Endrali smiled and gave a rueful snort. "Am I still Her Herald? I did get captured, wouldn't that...?"

Qyzen paused, the scaly ridges that crested his head twitching, but the clouded eye turned toward her gave nothing away. She knew he still struggled to reconcile that she, the Scorekeeper's Herald, had suffered the highest disgrace--live capture. His reply was measured when it came. [Once, small hunter said to me, not to dwell on points lost, but on reclaiming. Now I say same to you, Herald. Not to worry for lost points--you earn many more. And defeat one who captured you, make him serve.]

She shook her head and chuckled. They'd had this terminology debate before. "He doesn't serve, Qyzen; Arcann's an ally now. A friend."

One she was trying very hard not to think about right now, so they really should change the subject.

[Is sign of strength, boldness, to trust one so long an enemy,] Qyzen said. [Let him enter your den, guard your back.]

"He's earned it," Endrali said softly, tracing channels through the sandy dirt with her boot.

[Have seen is so,] Qyzen nodded. [So I trust Herald's instincts.]

A deep, breathless kiss, her name mumbled low, started creeping back into her thoughts. Endrali shook them off and pushed to her feet. "Right now my instincts are saying to press on before they regroup." It wasn't like resting in the suns heat helped that much.

Qyzen nodded, taking his weapon in hand. [I follow.]

They found the compound gates nearby, guarded by a Kaleesh warrior and flanking pair of scyk. He summoned more beasts to his aid when those were killed, making Endrali think he might have that control method they needed to wreck. When a whole gang of wraids followed the scyk and sandtuskers, she was pretty convinced of it.

The one big change fighting with Qyzen rather than Arcann was Qyzen's penchant for attacking the biggest visible threat, meaning she handled the lesser ones. Her lightsaber hummed and crackled and the air smelt of burned flesh by the time she'd finished off the wraids. She barely had time to assist Qyzen's fight with a few strikes when the Kaleesh's cry of 'To me, to me!' had the earth erupting and a massive sandworm flung itself at Qyzen.

It slammed him into a boulder, he snarled and clawed at it in retaliation. Endrali took over fighting the Kaleesh, deflecting blaster bolts, flinging rocks, until she finished him off.

Qyzen gave a triumphant cry a moment later and when Endrali turned he was yanking his techblade free of the beast's head.

It was in rifling the beastmaster's pockets and pouches she found the small hexagonal transponder. Near as she could tell, this was how he'd controlled the creatures. Figuring Oggurobb would want to have a look at it, she tucked it in a belt pouch and turned her attention to the gates.

They were huge and sturdy. Impregnable, some would say. Endrali reached out with the Force, hefted a boulder thrice the size of her and Qyzen combined, and hurled it at the gates.

Durasteel shrieked and voices clamored beyond as the gates bent, snapped, and caved inwards. The debris and her boulder flattened a few of those closest. It was a good thing they got a moment's respite; throwing something that large so hard took an effort. Endrali swayed, paused for a couple heartbeats to recover before following Qyzen's charge.

She'd just deflected a small barrage of blaster bolts back at the pirates who fired them, the hum of her daulsaber's whirl in her ears, when the sense of danger tugged at the Force. Endrali lunged to the side immediately, tucking herself behind a shipping crate as something small hit where she'd been standing and erupted in flame.

"Guess Jai wasn't as tough as he thought!" a voice rang out. "I'll have to take a crack at ya!"

Endrali reached with the Force to sense where the woman speaking was. Grated ramp to an outbuilding all the way across the workyard. Too far to do anything direct. She still levitated a boulder and threw it in the general direction of the new threat as she curled around the crate to run for Qyzen.

There was the bark of blasters firing in unison, a shower of stone fragments that stung the backs of her arms, and the rapid spitfire of blaster bolts dancing behind her footsteps. Endrali pivoted as she reached Qyzen, spinning her dualsaber to deflect the attack.

"Hey, boys, we got the Commander's attention herself!" the pirate hollered, jumping down from her vantage point. She vanished as she hit the ground, reappearing on an overseer's platform in the middle of the yard, so close Endrali could see her grin as she fired again.

Short range teleport. That was enough of a problem with Force users, where you knew there'd be a short break between shifts so they could regain expended energy. She had no idea what limitation a technological version may or may not have.

[I will take broodlings,] Qyzen said, gaze on the cluster of men who had spilled from the building. [And you the mighty one.] He was moving even before Endrali's nod of confirmation.

She drew on the Force to rush the pirate's position, crossing sand and metal alike in a blink.

The pirate had good reflexes; she dodged the swipe at her chest. Her blasters each spat a shot as she spat a curse--Endrali blocked one, but the other grazed her arm--and she slammed a hand to her belt, vanishing from sight.

Endrali deflected a wild shot from the last of the group Qyzen was fighting and reached with the Force, sensing where the pirate would be even as she reappeared. The pirate flung something and Endrali jumped the railing to avoid it, the chill of flash-cryo at her back as she hit the ground and rolled.

The pirate's new position gave her a clear line of sight on Qyzen, and she grinned as she spun her blasters before lining up a shot. From the glow of the barrels, Endrali didn't need the Force to sense danger. Too far to reach him in time...

"Qyzen!" she hollered in warning, but he didn't seem to hear her. In a last-ditch effort to protect her friend, she threw her dualsaber at the pirate, guiding it with the Force as best she could.

(If it worked for Arcann, it should work for her, even if hers had an extra blade to worry about when catching it.)

One of the whirling blades cut deep into the pirate's back and her shot went wide. Qyzen spun as the large energy bolts slammed the sand next to him.

Endrali caught the returning dualsaber above her head as she ran to close in on the pirate. Qyzen got there first, swinging his techblade in a backhand strike at her gut.

Still reeling from Endrali's thrown saber, the pirate was too slow to fully dodge. Her cry, however, was more dismay than pain as she backpedaled into the bunker behind her.

He broke her tech. Endrali called on the Force for speed, not wanting to waste this chance. They had the door covered, but stars only knew if there were any sort of passages out of the bunker.

A salvo of blaster fire greeted her as she sped past Qyzen and she felt the heat of one she didn't deflect whiz by the side of her neck. Qyzen grunted behind her as another bolt found its mark.

Trusting in the Force, Endrali flung out her hand, throwing a couple of footlockers in the direction of the shots, following in a rush to cut down the pirate before she could fire again. Her blade cut deep into the woman's unarmored chest, and she let out a choked-off groan of surprise as she fell. Something dropped from her hand-

[Herald!] Qyzen's finger closed around her arm, yanking her away just as the detonator went off. She instinctively threw up her free arm, and the wash of heat made the skin tight.

"Thanks," she said with a grateful smile, breathing hard as she turned to Qyzen.

[Was owed.] he replied, still on guard until sure the threat was past.

Endrali winced at the blaster burn that cut through the brow ridge of his good eye. "Sorry I was a bit slow."

Qyzen shook his head. [Is mark of fine hunt, strong prey, even if points are yours.]

"Couldn't have done it without you," she said, shaking her head. "They're your points, too."

He'd traveled with her long enough to know protesting the unconventional sentiment was pointless. [I thank you, Herald.]

Endrali nodded a distracted acknowledgement even as she crouched to free the damaged teleportation tech from the pirate's belt. I'm gonna be Oggurobb's favorite person in the whole galaxy at this rate... "Now to figure where we go next," she muttered. Probably up. There were some other buildings scattered around, but since none of them showed guards or signs of being ready to spew forth more pirates, she wasn't inclined to drag this out by doing a door to door search.

So they headed up the sloping cliffside path, until they found a large warehouse with guards posted outside the loading bay doors. They were easily dealt with.

The walker waiting inside clearly intended to be a little more of a challenge.

"Wondered when you'd poke your head in, Commander!" a voice boomed from the walker. "I am Bel Nerodia, chief of the Vipers and soon to be destroyer of the Alliance!" He fired off a rocket salvo as he finished his boast, and Endrali and Qyzen ducked in opposite directions for cover behind shipping crates.

Endrali peeked around her to take in the scene. Not enough space or incline to use the same method she had for the Zakuulan walker on Rakata Prime. ('Course, there she'd also had a fellow Force user to help disarm it before her stunt.)

She ripped the end off a shipping crate and threw it at the walker cabin. It staggered but didn't go down. Not big enough, then. Time to try something a little crazy. Probably unwise. But those plans tended to work the best.

Endrali stepped into view of the walker, yanking with the Force to throw it off-balance. As Nerodia struggled to get it stable again, she darted in close, dodging the massive feet until she could get a good strike at one of the legs. She sheared halfway through on her first hit, then finished the job on the backswing.

"Hey! No! You can't-!" Nerodia's bellowing protests were cut off as the walker crashed to the ground. Between the impact and debris she'd thrown at it, the hatch looked jammed.

That should hold him while I get the data, Endrali decided. Theron and Lana--mostly Lana--would have questions for the man; she'd rather take him alive. She used the Force to crush the hatch release a little farther. Just to be safe. She and Qyzen headed upstairs, dispatching a few more guards and droids as they went.

The computers weren't heavily encrypted. The data stolen and list of prospective buyers were both easy to find. Lana and Aygo would appreciate knowing who was willing to pay--obscenely--for Odessen security data. Endrali downloaded and wiped the data, then jammed her lightsaber in the console for good measure.

"Time to go," she told Qyzen.

Nerodia was still hollering and banging on the walker's jammed hatch when they made it downstairs. "Hey! Hey! You can't leave me in here! HEY!!"

"Didn't intend to," Endrali called back, voice raised so he could here her. "Might want to scoot back!" She waited a few heartbeats for him to comply, then ignited her lightsaber and sliced open the hatch.

Qyzen reached in and dragged him out, scolding, [Struggle not wise, after Herald showed mercy.]

"Some mercy," Nerodia scoffed, still struggling. "Better you just kill me."

"Not how I operate," Endrali said cheerfully. "And by the way, if you make a walker to fight Jedi, should invest in cortosis plating. Makes it harder for us to do" --she gestured to the walker--"that."

They secured Nerodia's hands with binder cuffs, and Qyzen shepherded him along as they headed for the door. A warning sense rang through the Force, and Endrali used it to shove Qyzen and Nerodia to the side as a volley of mortars pounded where they'd been standing.

"Crush 'em to dust GeeNine!" Nerodia whooped before Qyzen stunned him with a thump from the hilt of his techblade.

Their opponent was indeed a very large battledroid, clanking and creaking as it struggled across the sand.

Well, we can use that, Endrali mused, zipping in to slash at a cluster of exposed wiring. The droid was so large; clumsy and slow, it was easy to stay at a range to avoid both its heavy limbs and the artillery mounted on its back. It did get in a hefty smack that sent her tumbling and spitting sand with ears ringing before Qyzen jammed his techblade into its center and ripped out enough vital components to render it inoperable.

"That wasn't so bad," Endrali said, despite the bruise forming on her shoulder and the reek of singed hair from a rocket volley that cut it a little close. And it wasn't; the mining droid she and Arcann dismantled on Ord Mantell had been worse. "Let's go home, huh?"

[Is wise plan] Qyzen nodded.

Nerodia was just beginning to revive his struggles when they returned to him, and for ease of traveling Endrali stunned him again with the Force. Better than listening to him yell and posture the whole flight back to Odessen.

Qyzen slung the insensate pirate leader over his shoulder and they headed to the ship.

Fingers tracing the lower edge of her ribcage, hers dancing lightly along his collarbone, hearts pounding in unison as-

"So how do you account points for droids?" she asked hastily as they walked. "Are they the same as organic prey, or is there a difference because they're programmed...?"

---

The trip back to Odessen was uneventful. she and Qyzen took turns watching the prisoner and the controls, and there were no incidents of note.

Endrali was proven correct on their return--Lana was thrilled to have a prisoner for interrogation, Aygo was thrilled to have data on the pirates' ambush tactics, and Oggurobb was thrilled to have new tech to examine.

She herself was just thrilled to be home so she could wash off the lingering sweat and sand, get some proper sleep rather than a catnap in the pilot seat--

She walked into something and her mental checklist came to an abrupt halt even as she did. Her reflexive "Oh, sorry-" when she realized it was a someone strangled off when it registered who.

Arcann.

The galaxy did have a sense of humor.

His smile reached his eyes(and made her lips curve upward as well) as his hand brushed her arm in an instinctive move to steady her if needed. "It's alright. I did not realize you had returned."

"Just got back," she confirmed, trying to ignore the gooseflesh prickling her arm, the curl of warmth in her stomach--and, above all, the previously banished images starting to swirl in her thoughts.

Tangled-together fingers, breathless-mumbled names, hips rolling--

Stop it, he's right there, she scolded herself, frantically pushing the thoughts away and hoping Arcann hadn't picked any of it up. From the fact he wasn't going red and avoiding eye contact, it seemed nothing got through.

"I, um, had some deliveries," she explained, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Captured the leader; Lana's very happy I got this one alive for her to question, and they had some tech Oggurobb's dissecting."

"I'm glad you had such success," Arcann said. "Considering your rushed departure, it seemed rather urgent."

She nodded. "Wouldn't've been smart to wait. And I'm also glad that if I had to go to Tatooine, at least it was successful. It's good Qyzen knows the terrain so well, that was a big help navigating the Dune Sea." A sheepish chuckle. "Though it was... odd not having you to back me up," she admitted, and cocked her head at the near-imperceptible twinge to his sense.

He exhaled in a hum that might've almost been a laugh. "It was odd not going."

"We'll, ah, we'll both have to look forward to next time, then," Endrali said playfully, and bit her lip at the sincerity radiating from him as he nodded.

"We shall," he said, studying her face.

"That'll have to wait, right now I need a nap," she laughed. "Well, shower then nap. We hit a couple duststorms and I feel like I'm still wearing half of Tatooine."

One corner of Arcann's mouth curved back and he reached--as if he couldn't help it--to lightly brush something off her cheek. His breath hitched ever so slightly as his touch passed over her scar.

Hopefully it covered hers doing the same.

Endrali had to clear her throat before she could joke, "That dusty, am I?"

Arcann's answering chuckle was stilted as he let his hand fall. "Perhaps it's just as well I did not accompany you."

She watched the fingers of his left hand curl and wrinkled her nose. "Mm, true." Sand and cybernetics weren't a fun mix, no matter how many precautions you took. "Hopefully the next malcontents will use a more hospitable planet. And hopefully you found things to do with me gone?"

He nodded. "I did. Sana-Rae needed help in the Force Enclave, I meditated and worked on a... personal project. My time was occupied." He swallowed as if holding back from saying more and she didn't dare reach for the sense of it.

"Good." Endrali fought back a yawn. Probably wise to make her exit before exhaustion and her pounding heart made her say something stupid. "I'm gonna go take that nap. But I'll see you around?"

Arcann nodded. "Of course."

"Good." She skittered for the elevator, heart still pounding and warmth of dream-memory filling her mind. So much for this being a distraction. She could leave things buried for now, but it was unwise to let such a development... fester.

Scared as she was of damaging their friendship, she was going to need to talk to him soon.

Stars help her.

#queens fic #endrali jade #arcann #arcann tirall #qyzen fess #endrali/arcann #otp: undone by you #ardrali #swtor #swtor fic #consular/arcann #GAH they're so close #i want it on record the only reason they don't have that Talk before iokath is just being extremely busy #and then endrali almost dies and arcann goes OKAY THEN NOT WAITING ANY LONGER. thus. unmaked regret convo. :3 #that conversation at the end there was when i was biting my notebook btw #THE PINING #it's TORTURE #at least the next chronological piece i get to write them Becoming Official #happy birthday endrali <3 #i love my blueberry child

[kemendin]

Contentment

What can I say, I woke up today and chose snuggles. Small sequel scene to my fic ‘Cover Your Crystal Eyes’.

Jedi Knight x Lord Scourge Words: 925

The first morning he wakes up next to Scourge, Cas turns a look over his shoulder, and smiles.

They must have shifted positions during the night. He remembers being settled on top of Scourge, drifting off with his head tucked beneath the other’s chin, feeling the slow swell and fall of the Sith’s broad chest beneath his cheek.

Now Scourge is a bulwark of warmth against his back, his body not so much moulded to Caspian’s as Cas is to him. One weighty arm is wrapped easily around the Jedi, his scarlet hand spread over the dark skin of Cas’ abdomen, where he can feel the steady rhythm of his partner’s breathing against his palm.

Cas studies the Sith fondly for another moment, soaking in the view, before passing an idle glance around the cabin of his ship. Early sunlight is threading itself through the narrow windows, melding with the muted glow of the gold-lit panels that border the walls and floor. With the Seeker at rest in its glade behind the Alliance base, and no other occupants aboard, the entire ship is so quiet, so calm, and the Commander is basking in it.

Sighing happily, Cas shifts himself closer against Scourge, sinking deeper into the Sith’s heavy embrace. Sleep is still dragging at his eyes and his brain, and the temptation to succumb to it again is undeniable. But there’s something to be said for savouring this as well, this liminal place between consciousness and slumber, where his entire existence has been reduced to the softness of sheets and the warmth of unyielding muscles now relaxed against him in repose.

A tiny smirk pulls at the Jedi’s lips. The irony of the situation has not escaped him; that for all the Jedi Order’s talk of finding serenity, and clarity, and peace, Cas has at last found all of this here: in the powerful, protective arms of a Sith.

Absently he seeks out Scourge’s hand with his own, weaves his fingers into the empty spaces between the Sith’s stronger digits. To his surprise he feels a slight squeeze in response, and then a tickle of breath across his ear.

“Awake so soon, Jedi?” Scourge’s voice is a thick hum that Cas can almost feel upon his skin.

Caspian rolls back against Scourge, turning his head around to regard him. The sight of the Sith’s half-lidded yet still-bright gaze causes his smile to broaden into a lopsided grin.

“I wasn’t sure you’d still be here,” he admits.

“I promised I would be,” replies Scourge. There’s a light rebuke in the tilt of his browstalks. “And I keep my promises.”

“Well, in that case - good morning, Scourge,” Cas says, more brightly. He cranes his head farther to deposit a blithe kiss on the nearest of the Sith’s chin tendrils.

“Good morning, Jedi,” returns Scourge, before nuzzling his face into Caspian’s silver hair and inhaling deeply.

Cas laughs a little. “Does my hair smell that good?” he teases.

Scourge considers. “It smells - like you,” he answers after a moment, slightly muffled, and Cas chuckles again. He understands that this is as good as a ‘yes’. 

Raising his head again, Scourge lets out a low groan of satisfaction and tightens his hold around the Jedi. “You are a very sound sleeper, Caspian,” he goes on. “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever wake up.”

Cas makes a wry expression at this. “I’m not, usually. But this….” He exhales a similarly contented sound, and tilts his head back, and smiles again when he feels Scourge meet the crown of his head with a kiss. “This was the best I’ve slept in… years. No tossing and turning, no waking up in the middle of the night. No awful dreams.”

Scourge hums deeply again. “I have not felt this well-rested for as long as I can remember,” he agrees. “Being bound by the Emperor’s ritual, I was not disturbed by dreams - but sleep was always hollow and unsatisfying. And the return of my emotions only made me more restless.”

With some effort, Cas manages to squirm onto his back while remaining cradled against his partner. He reaches up and brushes his thumb across Scourge’s lips, and the Sith’s mouth quirks beneath his touch.

“Ssshhh,” the Jedi scolds him, still smiling. “Don’t talk about all that, you’ll ruin the moment.” His forefinger strokes along the other’s ridged cheek. “None of that matters right now, remember? It’s just us, here, together.”

He stretches up to catch Scourge’s mouth in a full, tender kiss - only to have this blissful sentiment rudely interrupted by the sound of the ship’s hatch opening. A moment later the familiar trill of an astromech droid burbles from the central deck.

Scourge lifts a browstalk, pushing himself up on one elbow and glancing towards the door, even as Cas falls back with a disappointed groan.

“Just us - and the droid,” the Sith corrects drily. “I suggest you relay to him that there is no more room in the bed, before he starts getting ideas.”

A whir of servos approaches the cabin door. [T7 = bringing breakfast for Jedi + Sith!] comes the proudly beeped announcement.

Cas lets out a loud sigh, and looks up at Scourge. “What d’you think?” he asks ruefully. “Should we let him in?”

Several light thuds vibrate from just outside - like an astromech droid is running repeatedly into the door.

“I think,” says Scourge matter-of-factly, now speaking over the distinctive sound of a lock being overridden, “that we are being given very little choice in the matter.”

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #swtor fanfic #lord scourge #jedi knight #swtor oc #swtor scourge #swtor jedi knight #swtor fic #star wars the old republic #swtor:caspian #kem oc #kem writes #kem fics #just felt like spewing out some somfts today

[dingoat]

❛ it’s okay. you can let go. ❜

[Ugggh omg I made myself cry writing this, so fair warning to anyone who sobs at animal stories like me, um, proceed with care. ~900 words, not remotely proofed because I can't read it again right now ahaha. THANK for sending this ask even though I broke my own heart with it!]

---

Twenty years.

In many ways, Ahuska had come to measure her life against Pexu’s.

A tough and scrappy little cub, gifted to Ahuska all those years ago. She’d been a mark of respect from Ahuska’s mentor, acknowledgement that she was ready to raise the challenging animal as a companion and protector, and a token of congratulations for being accepted into a Clan and finally striking off on her own.

And memories of those early days were impossible to separate from the day she met Crow.

The day her life had truly begun.

“I hope you forgive me,” Ahuska said quietly, stroking the broad, blunt head that rested in her lap, all four eyes gently closed. An apologetic smile tugged at her muzzle. “For not naming you myself. For letting Nel name you just because I thought it’d win points with her dad. You were so silly back then… both of you, really. I kept the bow she put on you, did you know that?"

Pexu’s fur was thinner than ever before, her quills patchy and blunt. Her breath was shallow, but she wasn’t struggling, not when she was able to lie with Ahuska and feel the warmth of her hands against her. Fifteen was a good age for a nexu.

And Ahuska had come a long way in her training, her skills, and once properly honed and backed up by some solid scientific education, her natural affinity for healing through the Force had allowed her to give many more years to Pexu’s life. She soothed the aches and strains, she dissolved the stone in her kidney that caused her abrupt, acute pain. She took care of her teeth, her heart, her joints.

“You remember that time you took a blaster bolt for Crow?” Ahuska murmured, her fingers feeling the edge of Pexu’s jaw, rubbing firmly up and down the edge the way she liked it. “We sure won’t, not ever. Stars, once in a lifetime is enough…” she shook her head slowly, and found the little scar on Pexu’s shoulder, all that remained from the burn she’d prevented from leaving its mark on Crow. “I bet you never wasted time remembering silly stuff like that, not when you could be thinking about stealing my damn donuts again.”

Ahuska still didn’t know how Pexu had managed to pilfer all six luxury creme artisanal donuts from the gift box sitting at her bedside while leaving the box itself closed and entirely intact, especially considering Crow had been out with her the whole time and, for once, couldn’t be blamed for the nexu’s bad snacking habits.

She huffed fondly, and stroked across Pexu’s quills. “That, or about basking under the Tatooine suns. You really liked that last visit, didn’t you? Syd was sweet with you, but I guess she always has been, I mean nexus have always been her specialty. But you’re prettier than any of hers ever were,” Ahuska grinned down at her, and knew that no nexu would every be quite so beautiful in her eyes as Pexu.

She knew she’d never be happy living without an animal or two of some sort at her side, but she wasn’t sure she could ever bring another nexu into her life. “Wouldn’t be right,” she murmured, as though Pexu was able to follow her thoughts. “They’d spend their life being compared to you, and none could ever live up to that.” As if to reply, the old nexu offered a quiet, rumbling pur, and lifted her head to bump against Ahuska’s hand. “That’s right, pretty girl,” she said, biting back tears as Pexu’s next breath was a little strained, and she caught up the great cat’s head in her arms and cradled it close. “Shh, hey, take it easy. Take it easy. You’re okay.” Ahuska wasn’t paying attention to the time. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there, when the thrum of Crow’s heartbeat against her own let her know he was approaching. And not just him; Nela, too, just collected from the spaceport, who dashed over to kneel beside Ahuska without a word, throwing an arm around her shoulders and squeezing tight. “Hey, how’s she going?” Crow’s approach was a little more sedate.

He came in gently, settling down by Pexu’s rump and gently rubbing her favourite spot right at the base of her tail. The forked tip twitched, and her purr grew a little louder. “Hanging in there,” Ahuska whispered, still holding Pexu’s head, close against her chest. It was growing slowly heavier, her breaths ever shallower and less frequent. “But only just. I’m glad you made it. She’s… happy that you’re here.” And Pexu was. Ahuska felt it, that soft sense of peace that her beautiful old nexu felt, to have all her favourite, familiar hands resting on her. “She’s family,” Nela affirmed, and she couldn’t even say that much without a wobble in her voice, turning her head to press her face against Ahuska’s shoulder. Ahuska smiled, but her cheeks were wet. “She waited for you,” she whispered, before all her attention turned to Pexu, who now relied entirely on Ahuska’s arms to support the weight of her head.

She closed her eyes, and felt the way the Force shimmered inside her oldest, dearest companion. Aching for release. It’s okay. Her words, her thoughts, were for Pexu alone. You can let go, now. I love you so much.

#swtor #swtor fic #ahuska #nexu #dingoat writes

[fleeting-sanity]

Finalize

[ Previous Entry ] ⚜ [ Read @ Ao3 ] ⚜ [ Chapter Index ]

His heart felt like it was exploding. Joy, anxiety, and pride raced in tandem with his body language upon hearing the news. The very next day, his pregnant wife started glowing in his eyes. Her beauty acquired a new method of controlling his mind–as apparent by how his hands couldn’t stop caressing her face and growing belly. A slice of heaven from the past.

But he was raised in a dog eat dog world and naturally, the fear gained momentum in the race. How much longer until they couldn’t hide her appearance? Thinking far ahead, what would the child be growing up in times of war and clashing ideologies? 

A decade of that was taken away by her, a fact that Rionnic kept coming back to, thus stoking the mellowing anger again. Recalling how she’d further hurt him by telling Rian the truth about their relationship added fuel to the fire. He returned to Odessen when the afternoon ended.

But he found neither his wife or son there. Asking around yielded nothing. His calm demeanor progressively crumbled as both never returned his calls. It felt like that familiar dread all over again during the first days of her abandonment. Imagine the shock when a hand landed on his shoulder at the peak of his tension. “Red?”

“Did you have to startle me that way?!”

His twin was taken aback by his explosive response. Both of their faces changed within seconds after the fact. “I… called you a few times but you seemed to be in a trance. Are you alright?”

Rionnic deflated into his seat, raking his hair with a frustrated sigh. Immediately the remorse hit for having raised his voice towards his brother. A far cry to the enemy he once was. “I didn’t mean to yell…”

“I know... I heard you’ve been asking for Jaesa? I just got a message from Ria informing me about their whereabouts. She sent them to Ossus. They’ll be back soon.”

The look of relief on Rionnic’s face was apparent, but it quickly turned into frowning when there were no such messages after he checked his holo transmitter. “Why did none of them inform me…?”

Such a difficult question, despite the simplicity of how it sounded. Perhaps it was a denial from Rionnic’s side despite knowing the answer deep down. Riornivo however, was put in an awkward position. He displayed an abashed smile, offering his shallow reassurance. “Maybe they don’t want to interrupt your busy schedule. Red…” as the younger brother took a seat in front of him, shuffling his brain for ways to break into his walls. He could sense Rionnic’s anxiety even before he landed in Odessen. “I’m thinking of what to give Rian for his birthday soon. I know he loves geology but giving him more rocks seems pointless. What about you?”

Rionnic sensed the ulterior motive behind those words. But he wouldn’t turn down a conversation about his son. “Still not sure myself. Probably a new apparel,” Rionnic replied calmly.

“That’s a great idea! Hmm… oh! Maybe I’ll make him a custom holocron! Yes!”

Riornivo’s enthusiasm scratched an endearment spot in him, but he would rather be caught dead first before expressing it to his annoying twin. “Spit it out.”

“What?”

“You want to say something.”

The Jedi couldn’t continue feigning cluelessness before it irked the Sith. “Red, you know I love you. I don’t mean to be nosy but I’ve been noticing your emotions lately. If you don’t want me to do anything, I won’t. But who knows, it might make you feel better telling it to someone.”

Riornivo braced for his twin’s reaction. 

“Are you willing to push this?” Rionnic taunted in a semi-playful way.

“To help you? Yes.” Riornivo answered with just as much familiarity and connection, albeit in a different way. His persistence seemed to pay off as Rionnic looked like he was in deep thought. 

“Fine. I think I need some time off. After dealings in Zakuul are done, I’m loading the rest to you. The bar is high.”

“Yessir–uh, Your Majesty!”

That playful response made Rionnic groan dismissively. “Then get to work.”

Rionnic had contemplated spilling his heart out to his twin, but decided against it. His pride would take a hit for airing his marriage issues out, and he preferred to solve this by himself. The office was emptied once more as he glanced at the picture on the desk. Just the three of them, smiling on Rishi. It caused his mind to wander off, thinking deeper into all of the troubles in this paradise.

The love he had for Rian would be incomplete if he were to break his heart by breaking his mother’s. Being Sith undoubtedly carried the default and already proven resentment in the boy’s heart, and he wouldn’t want to worsen that by tarnishing his image. But he knew Rian could sense his bitterness towards Jaesa. 

Which took Jaesa by surprise when Rian asked her a thinly veiled question about his father.

“Mother… are you angry at father?”

She wanted to say it was the opposite instead, but had to choose her words carefully. 

“Why is that? Did he… did he say something to you?”

“No. I just noticed both of your faces when you were talking to each other,” said the boy nonchalantly while swinging his legs over the bench. “You’re not mad at each other, right?”

It pained her to have to lie to her son. She hooked an arm around his back, pulling him into a hug. Perhaps this would be the right time to have that difficult talk, being in a familiar place and away from Rionnic. The hurdle was how would she phrase the words–she considered framing it from the point of Jedi teachings against attachments, but that would be hypocritical of her, and it felt a little too permanent . There was always a flicker of hope that perhaps someday, Rionnic would lower his defenses for her.

“Rian… can I ask you something?” to which the boy nodded.

“Alright… um…” 

Jaesa stroked Rian’s hair in an attempt to soothe herself. The longer he waited for his mother to continue, the more uncomfortable he became. “Sorry, um… I want to know… if you’d be fine if-if your father and I go our separate ways?”

“What do you mean…?”

“When someday we are not together anymore. None of us would be going anywhere–we’d still be next to you all the time! But your father and I would no longer be, um-”

“You’re angry at father?” said Rian defiantly while releasing himself from his mother’s embrace.

“N-no, this is just a hypothetical question!” 

Rian raised a perplexed eyebrow, mixed with mild annoyance. “Then why would you not be together? Is that what happens when people stop loving each other? Do you not love father anymore?”

Jaesa took a moment to rearrange her method of delving deeper into this topic. To educate from a place of understanding and love must be performed with serenity. “My little knight, of course I love your father very much. I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.” 

“Then don’t ask such questions anymore. It’s not an appropriate one for a child!” Rian lectured while waving his finger around, his tone hurt yet commanding. He huffed away towards a building that used to be the former Jedi archives. The talk went about as well as Jaesa expected.

After saying goodbye to the familiar faces of Ossus, Rian continued both his silence and pouting during the journey back to Odessen. Jaesa decided to not push her luck, giving her son space and perhaps trying again in the near future with a different approach. Both of their holocoms suddenly pinged multiple missed calls, all from Rionnic. It appeared that Ossus was having signal problems again. Rian immediately redialed his father.

“Rian! Rian… are you alright? Where are you?” 

“Calm down, father. I’m on my way back. I’ll talk to you again once I arrive!” To which Rionnic responded by expressing his relief. Rian’s silence persisted over the rest of the trip. His mother, however, was bracing herself for her husband’s response to this failed attempt. He would probably gloat about how he was right or admonish her for hurting Rian’s feelings. Once the shuttle landed, Rian quickly undid his seatbelt and bolted out, seeking his dear father. Jaesa took her time, not showing any signs of urgency.

“Father!” Rian shouted while knocking rapidly on his office door. He was greeted with the sight of Rionnic talking to a raven-haired man with a pale complexion who seemed somewhat recognizable to him. The other person was Lady Beniko. 

“I understand. You may leave.” Rionnic dismissed both of his subordinates.

Rian skittered towards Rionnic as he kneeled, greeting him with a hug. The tightness of Rian’s grasp was indicative of his state of mind, confirmed by his expression when he released the hug. 

“How was your day, good Sir?”

“Hm… it was okay. Tonight it might improve. Oh, by the way, I just saw some of my friends in Ossus! I’m sorry I couldn’t invite you there, father, but I’ll make sure of it next time!”

“That’s good to hear-”

“Oh, and I think Ossus had a signal problem again! That’s why I didn’t pick up your calls.” “Don’t worry about it, as long as you’re safe. Have you eaten?”

Before the boy could answer, the mother entered the room with her eyes downcast, but now her hair was done in an updo. Rian’s posture tensed upon seeing her as he scooted closer towards Rionnic’s body, refusing to look Jaesa’s way. “Yeah… I ate lunch at Ossus.”

“Good, good. You know what? I took a few days off, so I’m quite free to do many things with you,” Rionnic said to attempt to ease the atmosphere. “How about that trip to Alderaan?”

“Wow! I’d love to! But… that means I’d have to skip class.”

“I’ll have a talk with Sana-Rae. Unless you say otherwise? It’s up to you. We can go anytime you want.”

Rian took a moment to think, then his eyes glanced at Jaesa who was still speechless. She shrugged, giving the final say to him with a passing smile. 

“Yes, please!”

Rionnic affirmed with a grin, reinforcing his pitch with the grand castles of Alderaan being a sight to behold. He knew Rian would be curious about the caves, and that was something he’d have to do a little research on; to find the one with the least amount of Killik. It has been a long time since he returned home. The padawan excused himself to meet his friends, leaving the parents alone and in silence, again.

Jaesa turned to leave, never meeting Rionnic’s eyes.

“Wait.”

Again? She thought. Her weary heart wanted to continue walking, but her memory flashed to Rionnic’s previous words of preferring to communicate their problems away. She turned to face him with a determined glint in her eyes. The physical distance acted as a buffer between them.

“Did you talk to him about…”

She waited for him to continue, which unnerved him.

“Well, did you?” Rionnic repeated with an increased volume.

“Sure, why not? Anything else you want to know?”

Silence. It was as if Jaesa knew how to push his buttons, easily controlling the atmosphere and minimizing his authority. His pride refused to back down however, blurting out whatever sentence without much of a thought. “Why did he seem upset? What did you say?”

Predictable words to which Jaesa had already prepared for. 

“It’s natural that he’s upset. He will understand eventually. I spoke as softly as I can, and I know it’s going to hurt him regardless. Give him some time–I’m the one who raised him after all.”

Hurtful as it was to hear, confusion was the stronger emotion currently infecting Rionnic. He hated the potential outcome of this conversation, wanting to prevent it yet he was prevented by not knowing how to articulate it. And by the hurt. Before he could speak further, Jaesa added to her stinger sentences.

“Red… I think I want some distance from you when it doesn’t concern Rian. If possible, I want to finalize it by filing. I promise I won’t ever keep him away from you.”

A masterful final blow to his ego. The figurative walls crumbling could be seen by the subtle change in his posture. He mustered the last bit of emotional strength left. “Come closer.”

He displayed that same look a decade ago, strong and stoic, yet enticing. But she refused to take a dent to her defenses. She calmly approached him, their eyes trained on each other. There was a few seconds of wordless tension, and for the first time in his life where he was scared to speak his mind. Had circumstances been different, perhaps they would have been doing more than just locking eyes.

“Do you really mean that?” His voice subdued and lower pitched. “Repeat your words. Confirm it to me.”

She could sense the desperation. “You heard me clearly the first time. It’s the same thing you wanted months ago–I’ve come to agree that it’s for the best...” as she lowered her gaze, preparing to extract herself from the situation. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I still have errands to run. Force be with you.”

A common parting gesture throughout the galaxy, sounding so distant and hollow. Internally, he was pulling hair over how she turned those familiar terms into such a foreign concept. The way she detached effortlessly was probably credited to her Jedi training, but he refused to believe that someone could quit loving another abruptly. How did it get to this? The image of his shattered family was on the horizon. 

His chest became progressively heavier as he stared at the family picture. Was that the beginning of the end?

#swtor #swtor oc #swtor fic #swtor fanfic #fanfic #jaesa willsaam #sith warrior #jaesa x sith warrior #star wars oc #swtor fanart #my art

[grandninjamasterren]

Sa'edin carefully tiptoed across the room. The droid was powered down, but that wasn’t any reason to drop his guard. If he was caught, he’d be in so much trouble. He carefully opened the hidden panel on the T7 droid.

And quick as a wink, he snatched the saber from the compartment. The Throne-Breaker, the most legendary lightsaber of the era. He marveled at it for a moment before he went to sneak out.

“That isn’t yours,” Corellan said calmly, raising an eyebrow at the little zabraki boy. Sa’edin’s crooked horns flushed. The Hero of Tython, Battlemaster of the Jedi Order held out his hand for the return of his lightsaber.

“I need it,” the boy said defensively, clutching the saber to his chest. Corellan’s brow furrowed. He sat on the edge of his bed and patted the place beside him for the boy.

“Why do you need it, little one?” Corellan asked once Sa’edin had clambered up next to him. The boy fiddled with the lightsaber in his hands.

“The other kids make fun of me because I’m the smallest and I’m not good at saber skills. I thought- well, since it made you good enough to defeat Zakuul, it could make me gooder too,” Sa’edin said quietly, “I’m not good enough to be a jedi on my own.” Corellan chuckled, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Having a lightsaber isn’t what makes you a Jedi.” Sa’edin’s blue eyes met Corellan’s for the first time since he walked in.

“But-“

“Being a Jedi is about what’s in your heart. Discipline, compassion, these are some things that make you a better Jedi. Not a lightsaber, no matter how powerful.” Corellan patted the kid’s back soothingly, “You don’t need that lightsaber to be a Jedi.” Sa’edin chewed on his lip for a moment as they sat in silence.

“Here.” The Throne-Breaker was thrust into Corellan’s hands. The man hung it on his belt, next to his other sabers.

“Come on. I’ll help you with your saber work too,” Corellan said, standing and offering a hand to the boy. Sa’edin slid off the bed and grabbed the offered hand.

@swtorpadawan

This is what Sa’edin looks like and he’s about five or six here.

#star wars #swtor #my oc #other people’s ocs #swtor jedi knight #swtor jedi consular #fluff #swtor fic

[monocytogenes]

For What It's Worth - read on ao3

As he and the former Minister of Intelligence set his affairs in order, Cipher Nine reflects on his career.

Excerpt:

The horror he’d endured in the wake of that accomplishment, the unapologetic abuse that had led him to walk open-eyed into a bureaucratic death—it had all been one long, agonizing descent from there, but in that brief, shining moment on the Dominator, his determination, his skill, his presence had meant something. Maybe that was all any of them could hope for: a fleeting instant of potency. To stand at that precipice and affect some semblance of justice. He looked up. “I have a question.”

#pravin and the minister fuck me right up y'all #the weird paternal power relationship. the enduring hurt. the way pravin bleeds and the minister refuses to apologize #because he's done so many awful things and the only way he can live with it is by bottling that shit right up #and pravin resents him for it but they've also been through a bureaucratic nightmare together with aligned priorities #so there's nevertheless this understanding. 'i hate you government!dad but i hope we both survive this despite it all' #ahhhhh #imperial agent #cipher nine #swtor keeper #minister of intelligence #swtor #swtor fic #swtor fanfiction #star wars the old republic #writing

[luchadorbard]

Serenity (A Swtor Oc Fic)

(I found some old fic's I wrote of my SWTOR characters many years ago. Here's hoping there not too spicy for Tumblr! Set after Knights of the Eternal Thrones and around the time of Onslaught, so spoilers abound!)

Keshani finished her stretching and took her quarterstaff in hand. There is no emotion, there is peace. The first line echoed and rang out through her mind like a cord of an instrument. All seemed to fade away as she begin basic lightsaber movements, allowing her to let the complexities and confusion of the galaxy wash away.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. She focused on all her past successes that came, not through a lightsaber, but through learning of the past and expanding one’s mind. All the while practicing her strikes and Ataru movements, the difference contrasting her memories starkly.

Finding and using the cure to stop Terrak Morrhage’s plague, being named Barsen’thor of the Jedi order, helping maintain the Rift Alliance, dismantling the Children of the Emperor. Uncovering the Revanite plot. Building her own Holocron. Learning the true origins of the Sith Emperor and his many masks. Her greatest achievements, far greater than any single battle or duel.

There is no passion, there is serenity. The thoughts continued to flow almost like music, and her battle practice akin to a dance. She thought of her own failures when it came to passions. Lashing out after learning her own Master Yuon Paar had an affair with another Jedi Master, the devastating truth of who the First Son of the Emperor was; almost crushing her resolve. The despair of awakening 5 years after being in a carbonite tomb to see the galaxy under Zakuul’s thumb. Her one-night tryst with Theran Cedrax. She frowned as she took another deep breath and attempted to refocus. 

There is no passion, there is serenity. Keshani lingered on that line in her mind. Her acrobatics movements getting faster as Lana Beniko come to her thoughts. Her friend and companion. Her dark advisor. Her beloved. Her life partner.

Her breath quickened as she attempted to refocus, feeling the Force flow within her to channel her rapid acrobatics movements, feeling the flow of the Force in all the living things in the Alliance base on Odessa.

There is no passion, there is serenity. She repeated the line attempting to center herself like the eye of a hurricane. Her beloved returned to her thoughts unbidden. When she first met her during the Revanite plot. Tracking the revived Sith Emperor from Yavin 4. Lana recusing her from the Empire of Zakuul and escaping Arcann’s wrath.

There is no passion, there is serenity. She repeated, but no comfort or clarity came as she leapt between the walls, moving even faster now. She saw Lana when they shared there first kiss together.

Keshani’s heart started to pound in her chest, as her thoughts lost the code, she was focusing on the memories now, her practice being almost second nature to her now. The memories of their first night together, the comfort and warmth they shared with each other. The memory of her burying her face between Lana’s inner thighs to worship her. The chaos of the galaxy fading away as they made loved to each other; the peace Keshani felt as they explored every inch of each other.

She lingered in her memories as she remembered there subsequent nights together. Almost after every major battle they’d reunite together in a private place. Her chambers or sometimes Lana’s. It didn’t matter where, so long as they were together. She remembered how good it felt when Lana was rough with her. Forcibly slamming her downwards on the bed face first, pinning her against the walls as her hands roughly grabbed her breasts and curves with all her Sith might.

The memory of their passionate night came crashing down as Keshani awoke from her trance, as she slipped off a critical ledge and fell flat on to her back on the floor!

She slowly got to her feet and drank some water as her hands trembled. All my achievements. All that I’ve done for the Jedi and the Republic and it still feels as if I’ve betrayed them. No matter how much she reminded herself of all the good she’s done for the galaxy; guilt wracked her thoughts when it came to her beloved. The Barsen’thor was praised for her mercy, her wisdom, her compassion. All the things Jedi should be. And yet I lay with Sith.

No, not just lay. She -loved- her. Loved Lana. Loved her with every ounce of strength she could muster. Loved her more than she thought she could love anyone or anything.

At first, she justified it to herself that her friendship with Lana was proof of coexistence. Proof that the Jedi and Sith were not doomed to be forever enemies. That diplomacy could bring about a new understanding beyond the endless cycle of war. Overlooking the renewed conflict between The Republic and the Sith Empire after the fall of Zakuul, that excuse quickly lost potency after they shared there first kiss and was all but abandoned when they shared that first passionate night together. I knew those feelings were against the code and yet I persisted.

When she proposed marriage to Lana after the events on Nathema she justified that by telling herself that Jedi marriages did exist but not even that lie could fool herself. Marriages among Jedi is one thing. But to a Sith? No Jedi Council would ever accept that.

The dangers of emotional attachment were well known to the Jedi. It was drilled into them from your earliest arrival. It is one of the most critical lessons all Jedi must learn. She couldn’t claim it was merely for physical release; a defense that could at least warrant -some- debate. She cared for Lana. Deeply. What would Master Satele Shan say? What would the rest of the council say? She sighed as she finished her current cup of water before she looked to her own holo-map of the known galaxy. Not much of anything I’d wager. The Jedi are still scattered and rebuilding. Our only major congregation is on a world Exar Kuun made a sun blasted wasteland lead by a historian currently in a medical induced coma. She quickly stowed away such bitter thoughts.

Master Gnost Duural is an amazing Jedi and a fantastic teacher. His work is invaluable to both the Jedi Order and the Republic at large however he is no Battle Master. We need the council. We need a Grand-master. Her mind raced about the defenses she’d offer if she were ever summoned before a new Jedi council to explain herself. That she still conducted herself as a Jedi should? That Lana didn’t exert any undue influence over her? Lies any Master could sense easily.

When Valkorian offered part of his dark power to protect Lana from an ambush in the Endless Swamps she accepted without a second thought. She crossed that terrible line and still felt the guilt to this day that she was manipulated so easily by the Dark Lord of Many Faces. Even after his death, the shame didn’t abate.

It's true she still acted with compassion, wisdom and nobility and yet whenever her dark advisor put forward her suggestions the Barsen’thor considered them. Debated them in her mind, as if they were viable options rather than the twisted and cynical world view of the Sith. I’m sure to many master’s that alone is failure.

The door to her quarters opened after a quick electronic chirp. She turned and saw the source of her sorrow and joy. Of her guilt and satisfaction. Of her conflict.

“Commander, are you alright?” Lana spoke in that crisp and formal Imperial accent, but her features showed a deeper concern as she stepped into the room. Her eyes a beautiful sulfur yellow; proof of her corruption. Proof that she was Sith. Proof she was opposite to everything she stood for. And yet every time she gazed into them, she felt her heart flutter.

“I sensed your distress, I just wanted to make sure that…” Lana’s words were interrupted by Keshani quickly striding over and delivering a kiss. It was the only thing that settled her restless heart, her frayed nerves and her mind. The Sith’s momentary surprise quickly faded as she embraced the kiss, the door shutting behind them. Her gloved hands reaching around to hug and cradle the woman she loved as the pair lingering in the kiss before Keshani finally withdrew and looked over her beloved’s face.

Keshani felt her heart still and her mind clear as she tenderly held her beloved’s hands. She felt at peace.

“I feel a lot better, now that you’re here.” She said as the Twi’lek nuzzled her head into Lana’s.

Lana’s voice lowered to a whisper. “We…We should get back to work. I think Bey’wan has some reports for us.” Her reply was in that charmingly flustered way, whenever distractions around work arose, that Keshani adored so much.

“Later.” Keshani whispered back to her as she quickly stole another quick kiss as her hands left Lana’s to gently stroke her face. “I need a moment to collect myself...”

Lana quickly returned another kiss as she cradled her face. “Then spend that moment with me.” She whispered back.

Keshani paused only for a moment as all her doubts were banished and she wrapped her arms around her partner, with Lana following suit. Even after their wedding they still fumbled and clumsily rushed to remove their armor and robes as if it was there first night together.

Lana’s enhanced strength made it easier for her to discard the Jedi robes before her while Keshani required a moment with the buckles and straps of her beloved Sith. Pushed to the edge of the bed Lana removed what remained of her lovers’ lower robes, spreading her legs apart and burying herself into the Jedi’s thighs.

The Barsen’thor moaned as she rolled her head back, her long blue skinned legs wrapping around the head of her dutiful lover. It didn’t take long for the rest of the armor to be discarded on to the floor.

Time was lost to the pair of them as they shared another passionate night together. Worshiping each other as if it was to be there last night together in this galaxy; their sweaty forms writhing in lustful embrace, to each other’s loving touch.

Even after they were done, they simply laid there together; their bodies intertwined, hugging each other as they lay under the covers.

“I could sense your uncertainty.” Lana spoke as she pressed her back into Keshani’s chest. “I sensed your guilt before I arrived. Was it about us?” The Sith’s tone was polite, curious almost.

The Twi’lek took a moment to gather her thoughts as she kept her hands around her lover’s waist. There was no point in trying to lie.

“Was.” Keshani replied. “Every time I see you, I know what matters to me. I know what I feel. And I know who I am. You complete me.” The Barsen’thor sighed happily as Lana turned around to meet her face, the pair exchanging another series of kisses as the Jedi’s thoughts became much clearer. They were the same thoughts she always had after she shared nights like this with her beloved.

I am the Barsen’thor, I am a Jedi who is in love with a Sith, I have given into temptation. I have strayed from the Jedi code. I have given into attachment. She brushes a stray lock of messy bright blonde hair out of Lana’s face to properly see her; so that she might get lost within her brilliant yellow eyes. And I don’t care.

(A visual aid for my Jedi Consular)

#oc writing #my writing #backstory #swtor oc #swtor screenshots #swtor #swtor fanfiction #swtor fic #swtor jedi consular #lana beniko #oc #spicy writing #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #bisexual #wlw #sapphic love

[spitzobsessed]

Warning for little swearing, ooc and possible spoilers.

This is a spur of the moment fic, best described as a "what if scenario" one'd think of in the shower. Because I love my Agent and he deserves to fight the Republic in every way possible.

Bear in mind that I've never played past Coruscant of the Trooper story. So of course this fic is set on the first planet, and the spoilers refer to the end of Ord Mantell planet arc for Trooper. Oh yes, this has nothing to do with Agent's story.

aand im rambling, sorry, sorry

___________

That was it. The end. Some few minutes left to accept what they'd done.

They were no longer Republic soldiers and in less than an hour they will no longer be in Republic space.

Commander Harron Tavus battled his doubts in silence, not letting anything to show on his face. After all, there was no turning back now. The team seemed to be having a better time dealing with their choice.

Commander however.... Loyalty turned out to be a trickier bitch than he thought. And back when everything was clear his loyalties were clear. They haven't changed, not really. He had a Squad to keep alive and a Republic to serve. But if the choice was between his Havoc and some bastards issuing orders from the safety of Coruscant, he knew who came first.

If the Republic deemed the Havoc unimportant enough to just leave them to die, well, the Havoc would treat the Republic appropriately.

At least the Imperial officer was smart enough to keep his expression neutral. Had the fascist scum tried to gloat, Harron would not be held responsible for his actions.

...

The shuttle was ready to be boarded when the guards shouted. In a moment over two dozen blaster rifles were aimed squarely at the intruder's chest. Commander heard Fuse swear under their breath. He agreed with them. Walking right up to them, as if oblivious to all the weapons trained on him, was the newest addition to Havoc. Sergeant Aaden Challe had a complicated expression. He stopped right in front of Harron and Imperial officer, after making a show of looking around at everyone gathered. He pointedly let his gaze linger on the warhead stripped to the shuttle.

He was a dead man for coming here.

Harron felt cold at the realisation. He had no choice but to kill the new guy now, for there was no other way. He did prove to be quite patriotic. That was why Harron ordered him to stay at the base.

Why was he here?

"You should not be here,"

"You went silent. Base Command feared you were dead,"

It would be better if they were right.

Commander looked at Sergeant. There was steel in the other man's eyes. They both knew what had to happen.

Imperial officer seemed to miss how tense the situation was becoming:

"Deal with the intruder, Commander Tavus. We're on a tight schedule."

Soldiers around them did not lower their rifles. But this was a chance to keep the stupid boy alive. He will be in trouble afterwards but at least he would be alive.

"This has nothing to do with you. You should have stayed at base."

"You're defecting from the Republic. And what's this, a passage fee?" - Sergeant Challe nodded at the warhead. - "What, you think the Empire will welcome you just like this?"

Havoc tensed. They knew that warhead was their ticket to freedom. The Empire would not accept them otherwise, and that admiral had wanted the weapon badly enough to negotiate their future.

Harron saw Wraith inch closer to Challe, syringe ready in hand. Sedative, probably, she kind of liked the guy.

Just keep his attention on me.

"The Republic doesn't care about us. During a mission to Ando Prime, they simply left us to die. I have no intention of letting that happen again."

Challe twitched an eyebrow, as if forcing himself remain impassive.

One more step.

"You have a future with them. We made our choice."

Wraith lunged at Challe, and some of the soldiers startled. Which was a mistake because blaster shots were fired and as Harron with the rest of Havoc took cover to return fire, they barely noticed Sergeant catch the woman and pin her down, all in a fraction of a moment.

"Halt!"

In the following silence the adrenaline rush felt overwhelming.

Harron took in the situation: imperial officer stood proud while the rest took cover.

He turned to the Sergeant:

"Trooper. Surrender now or be executed."

The man in question sat still for a moment, holding Wraith's hands. Then, slowly, he let go of her, and put his hands up. The Officer motioned to his men and a pair immediately put away their weapons and rushed to the surrendered man. They confiscated his weapons and handcuffed him. Wraith stood up and walked toward the rest of Havoc.

It felt surreal to watch the Imperials herd - prisoner now- Challe into the shuttle while their officer simply watched. He then faced Harron:

"This concludes our business on Ord Mantel."

The man then gestured for the Havoc to board the shuttle. And so they did. Some of the soldiers followed them inside, and lastly the officer and his escort came in.

...

The atmosphere astonishingly was equally grim and awkward. At least, among the Havoc Squad.

Harron could see it in the others' gazes that they were.. worried. For the new guy, most likely, and what would become of him, and more importantly, what would the admiral do about the uncounted for Republic soldier.

The flight off Ord Mantell and from the system was not long. It felt like an eternity still.

...

Half an hour later and the telltale shudder of exiting hyperspace went through the shuttle. The grand finale, thought Harron, as the Imperials began preparing to disembark.

Then, their shuttle entered the docking bay of an Imperial Destroyer, and landed, and everything grew still in waiting.

The entrance opened and Harron was politely led out and onto the deck of the bigger ship. He noticed the others being led out similarly and as he took in the bay he understood why. There, in all his imperial glory stood the admiral who would accept their defection and the "passage fee". Harron stood in parade rest, about to greet the man, when behind him Sergeant was led out as well.

Harron did his best not to react as Challe was led forward, unarmed and hands bound. For such a dire situation, the younger man held himself surprisingly well.

"Release him."

What.

Harron did look around that time, but the Admiral's attention was squarely on Challe. Who was now rubbing his wrists.

"I do appreciate that, Admiral."

"Hm. We'll talk later. Adjutant, show the good man the guest cabin." - an inconspicuous man walked up and quietly instructed Challe to follow. - "Now, to tha matter of the former Havoc Squad-"

"What's going on?!" - who would- Ah, Gearbox, the one to meet and insist on the safety of their addition, was known to care about young soldiers under his command. - "Why are you taking Sergeant Challe? Where are you taking him? Wh-"

"I believe you have no authority to interrupt your superiors," - the Admiral spoke over Gearbox, sounding both annoyed and disgusted.

"Sergeant Challe is no threat, he was not supposed to even be here," - Harron tried to sound nonchalant. The situation made little sense.

"And I have no value as a prisoner nor do I possess any valuable information?" - Challe stopped half the hangar away from the group. He did not sound upset or accusatory, no, but something in his voice- "Commander Harron, are you trying to dig my grave?"

Sergeant turned to face them and those words-

He was mocking them.

Laughing at him.

"Cipher Ten, I can handle this. Thank you for your aid with the mission," - the Admiral dismissed Challe and started telling something to him but Harron heard nothing. Cipher. Cipher agent of the Imperial Intelligence. The most dreaded tool of the Empire apart from Sith. Challe was- No, no, that couldn't be.

"Is that true?" - Fuse sounded breathless, and this time Harron was certain that feeling of being hit in the gut was a shared experience. - "Were you- "

"Were you sent to spy on us? Or kill us?" - Needles finished for him. There was hate growing in his gaze, and as Harron quickly glanced at Wraith, her face too was turning into a mask.

But Challe- Cipher, Cipher Ten admiral called him, resumed his walk after the adjutant. Instead, the Admiral spoke:

"Cipher Ten was supposed to determine the validity of your promise. To ensure this defection wasn't a cowardly ruse to harm the Empire. And to make sure the warhead was not sabotaged. You understand," - Admiral then gestured for the men to follow him. - "Now, Commander Tavus, we have a lot to discuss. Let us relocate to my office."

#swtor #writing #short story #swtor fic #swtor trooper #imperial agent #harron tavus #havoc squad #short fic

[xivu-arath]

Rkorya turned a padawan to the dark side and gained an apprentice. Jaesa had her life ruined and a new one offered in the same breath, and she took it. It takes them a while to realize that this story hasn't quite ended.

Jedi fear attachment, think it makes them weaker and swayed by the trivial whims of those around them, and at first, Jaesa thought the Sith were much the same – revelling in the feeling of the moment, but cutting away each bond when it became too permanent, too vulnerable. But Rkorya takes that sentiment and turns each connection into her strength, guards those near her fiercely. So no, she would rather have tossed herself off of the sanctum than seriously punish or injure her apprentice.

On some days, she finds it sweet, a devotion that she strains to match in service and loyalty. But on others, it’s jarring to be cared for, protected, even as she can see her disapproval whenever she comes back from a night out, streaked in sweat and blood. When they train, the difference between them gapes open like a void that can’t be filled, that aches with uncertainty, and she doesn’t know what she can do to make it better. She’s opened herself to the dark side, embraced her anger, and yet it’s never enough.

That it troubles Rkorya as much as it does her is a bitter balm – she doesn’t want to be the problem apprentice, forever the weak link. Some part of it might be her master’s fault, even if she is Sith to her bones, but... how much of it is her own?

#repostober #rkorya #sith warrior #swtor fic #jaesa willsaam #I am still proud of squeezing something sensible out of the ds jaesa choice #can't believe I devoted so much effort to fixing up bioware's fuck ups... six years ago aaaaaaa

[magicallulu7]

I know I should continue writing my Wips, but I'm getting so many ideas.

Now, I'm thinking about diving into my characters time training to become Jedi oh and planning to write some more Kailani/Kira. 👀

#swtor #star wars #swtor fic #writer problems

[semper-draca]

Writer's Game: First Sentences

was tagged by @kunstpause ^-^ tagging: @riajade01 @gerdavonrinnlingen @tishinada @sheyshen and anyone else who wants :D

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven't written ten fics, share as many first sentences as you have.

1. City of Final Pleasures (FFXIV Emet/WoL)

The light beneath the waves shifts gently with the currents, and combined with the soft glow of the street lights it makes the air itself feel shrouded in a mirage.

 2. Enemy Lines (FFXIV Emet/WoL)

“This is the most advantageous treaty we’re likely to negotiate without further loss of life,” an advisor grumbles.

3. In From The Rain (FFXIV Emet/Hyth/WoL)

Outside the tall glass windows, a storm is beginning to roll in.

4. In which Zenos sneaks around (FFXIV, gen, what it says on the tin)

For over two weeks now, Zenos has risen from his bed in the morning with a motivation beyond duty and simple habit.

5. Iustitia (SWtOR f!SW/Quinn)

Bright white lights from the combat arena blur in front of Gimrizh’s eyes.

6. Tattered Shadows (FFXIV gen)

Shadows have ere been friends to reapers.

7. Insigne (SWtOR f!SW/Quinn)

Shortly after Malavai’s fifteenth birthday, on his third day of summer classes at cram school, his right wrist begins to itch.

8. Libation (SWtOR f!SW/Quinn)

A somewhat incoherent text message from Vette leads Malavai to an unkempt cantina in the lower levels of Kaas City’s Flower District.

Every fic after this that I’ve posted is too old so instead the last two are gonna be first lines from (hopefully) up and coming wips!

9. Unnamed heat fic (FFXIV Emet/WoL, what it says on the tin) 

Sunlight shines down through the blue glass roof of the Crystarium, making the various stalls in the Musica Universalis glow in the natural daylight in a way that is still novel to most of the people living here.

10. Unnamed fic for a static friend (FFXIV gen) 

Normally, blood underneath the skin appears dark and cool.

#ffxiv fic #swtor fic #my writing #thanks for the tag! ^-^ #as always no pressure if i've tagged you and dont wanna do it #alternatively if i didnt tag you and you wanna do it go for it! :D

[queen-scribbles]

Occupational Hazard

Here we go, the Ody/Chance fic that started as an angst fill before it ran away with me big time. ~3k, immediately post-Agent story. ---

It was easier to infiltrate Coruscant than she'd anticipated.

A simple slice of the customs terminal and the infamous Cipher Nine was walking out of the spaceport long before her shuttle's engines cooled. She wasn't sure if that was a credit to her skill or a demerit against Coruscant security. That ease, however, was balanced out by the difficulty tracking down who she sought.

Despite the difficulty--and multiple databases she had to crack--she did eventually find herself in the correct wing of the correct hospital, rapping lightly on the doorframe of a dimly-lit room. "Hello, Chance."

It took a moment for him to react, clearly not expecting a visitor at this point in the day. "Legate." He frowned, cocking his head. "What happened to you?"

"A lot," she said reflexively, perhaps a touch bitter before it sank in what precisely he meant. "But this was Corellia." She raised a hand to trace the fresh scars around her left eye, half-shaded by her hair. "Tortured for information by a secret society I was working to topple."

"Did you?" he asked after a beat.

"I did, yes." But she didn't want to talk about Hunter now, that wasn't her purpose here. She shifted. "May I come in?"

He started, then nodded, wincing as he rubbed the back of his neck. "They borrowed my chair for someone with visitors and I haven't gotten it back yet..."

"It's alright," she assured him, crossing to sit on the edge of the bed Up close she could see the haggard traces remaining on his face, though those wounds had healed. "I don't mind. How are you doing?"

He shrugged stiffly. "Better, but nowhere near ready to leave yet. At least there's less oversight here in long-term rehab, so I'm not getting poked every couple of hours. They mostly leave us alone except for meals or if we need something." He fiddled with the bio-monitor cuff on his wrist. "Legate, I-"

"Odessa," she interrupted. "My name. Odessa Isric. We should start off honest this time, hm?"

His ears were pink as he nodded. "I'd like that." He met her eye. "Sollen Rieves."

She'd learned that from tracking him down, but didn't point it out, simply smiled. "Nice to meet you, and I have to admit... that both fits what I expected and doesn't." A sheepish laugh. "If that makes sense."

"It's a good spy name, but I'm not a very good spy?" Chance--Sollen--said wryly.

His tone made her think it was a sentiment he'd heard--or overheard--but Odessa shook her head. "I'm not saying that." She studied him a moment. "And I can't imagine you had much time as an agent for someone to make that assessment."

"You aren't wrong," he muttered, wincing as he attempted shifting to a more comfortable position in the bed.

She gave him a moment to settle, musing on her own thoughts. Briefly as they'd worked together, she'd noted both his openness and kindness as things that wouldn't last long in the espionage business. Either they'd burn out or he would. But Taris had made that a moot point, by all evidence.

"Sorry," he mumbled, finally finding something that worked.

"No need to apologize," Odessa said with a small shake of her head. "You're still recovering."

"Which is going slower than some would like," Sollen said. "But a lot of the damage was internal, so there was only so much kolto could do. They're just antsy to see if they can send me back into the field or need to stick me somewhere else." He shook his head and cleared his throat. "But, anyway, what're you doing here, and" --he glanced out to the hallway, lowered his voice--"why don't you sound Imperial?"

She chuckled. "It can be called for, in this line of work, to carry or drop any number of accents at a moment's need. Including my native one." A small smile. "I can do a Mantellian farmer's twang, if you want an example...?"

Sollen laughed. "No, I believe you."

"I thought it best to not sound Kaasian on the Republic homeworld. As to the first part of your query... I didn't want to wait until you're out for that drink." Odessa started to reach into her jacket pocket, then paused, glancing at the bio-monitor screen embedded the wall nearby. "So long as you're not taking anything that would make that a bad idea?"

"Nothing that strong," he promised with a shake of his head. "Not anymore. Even if I was... it was the company I was looking forward to more than the drink."

"As was I," she said with a smile, slipping out the flask of Alderaanian honey brandy. "But this is very good."

He reached for the water cup on the bedside table, drank the little that remained, and held it out. "So we don't have to keep passing back and forth."

"Smart." She pour a little of the honey-shaded liquor into the cup. "To fruitful conversation, and a speedy recovery for you."

Sollen exhaled a wry laugh. "The second part'll take some kind of miracle, but thanks." He tapped the cup against her flask and they took a drink.

There was enough alcohol bite to make them both clear their throats, but the honeyed aftertaste came in quickly to soothe the tingling burn.

"That is very good." He looked down into the cup, then at her. "Expensive good. I didn't realize Intelligence paid their operatives that well."

"They don't," Odessa said with a small laugh. She swirled the brandy still in the flask as she debated how much detail to go into. "It was a gift. From an Alderaanian baron. His house was point of contact for a mission I had there, not long before being assigned to Kothe's team, actually. In the course of my mission, I... handled some things for the house that made him feel parting gifts were appropriate."

She didn't mention those things had involved unmasking his wife as funding terrorism or preventing a killik hive from absorbing the estate. Or that she hadn't reported the gifts to Imperial Intelligence.

"Ah, so they're bonuses," Sollen chuckled, taking another sip.

"You could call them that," she nodded with a smile as she followed his example. "I've done my best to savor them, but this seemed a worthy occasion."

"I'm honored." His smile faded and he looked down again, scratching at the rim of the cup. "About your assignment with us... Le- Odessa, I wanted to apologize-"

She knew where this was going, and was shaking her head before he finished.

"-for Taris. I should have..." The words trailed off as he looked up and caught her.

"There's no need," Odessa said softly, her own gaze drifting to the window.

"Yes, there is!" He frowned, tone rife with disbelief and indignance on her behalf. "It doesn't matter how scared I was, or how badly I didn't want to die, I shouldn't have done it. I should have trusted-"

"-that an alleged enemy defector you'd worked with for a few days would have your best interest at heart?" she finished dryly.

"You patched me up without needing the keyword, saved my life, so clearly it would have been the right call," he countered.

"But you didn't know that." Trusting people that much in spycraft would get you killed. "I'm not saying it was pleasant, but I understand."

"It's not really about what you would or wouldn't have done without the keyword," he said with a sigh. "It was wrong, and I knew it, and I did it anyway because I was scared. I'm..." He met her gaze, held it. "I'm very sorry, Odessa."

She had to admit, it made something in her chest warm beyond what brandy could accomplish to hear an apology, no matter how unnecessary. More so that he'd attached her name. Enough she had to look away for a moment. "I appreciate and accept that, and you're forgiven."

"Just like that?" He still seemed uneasy.

"Mm. Chance," she very deliberately didn't correct using his code name, "were I in Ardun's position; defector dropped in my lap right when I needed on, foolproof way to make sure this wasn't a trap or otherwise too good to be true, I can't say I would've chosen any differently than he did."

Sollen's grip tightened around the cup. "Really? Even knowing...?"

Odessa took a deep breath and nodded. "It's an occupational hazard for spies," she said softly. "We have to make hard calls, do unpleasant things, to accomplish goals for the greater good, and hope it's worth it."

Sometimes the greater good decides to stab you in the back for doing your job too well.

"I see where you're coming from," he said slowly, "but I don't know if I agree. Once you stop caring about the cost to individual people, or your cause starts demanding you stop caring, I think it stops being the greater good."

She chuckled and tapped the flask against the side of his cup. "Maybe you are too soft hearted for this business," she teased, taking another sip of brandy. "Maybe that's not a bad thing. Maybe..." she sucked her teeth. "...maybe I wish I was more like that. More like you."

The rueful smile and eyeroll at her teasing devolved into a blush and a rather bashful expression by the end. "Maybe it's not too late for you. And... maybe it's irrelevant for me."

Odessa frowned, nails tapping lightly against the metal flask. That was the second allusion like that he'd made. "Irrelevant? Were your injuries that extensive?" He had lost a lot of blood by the time she patched him up in the half-wrecked hospital hall. But he'd gotten to a medevac under his own power and she'd thought...

Sollen nodded, setting down the cup. "I can show you...?" He waited for her faint nod of confirmation before tugging up the hem of his shirt. "This is after two surgeries, three times in a kolto bath, and my first month of rehab."

Medseal wrapped from his hip to just over halfway up his chest, and pocked scars showed higher up, healed as kolto could get them. For it to still be this significant after a year... She winced.

"Granted, the actual injuries only come about here" --he tapped a finger just shy of his navel-- "but it was awkward to keep just that covered, synthskin kept peeling, so they opted to fully wrap. Goes halfway down to my knee, too," he said, letting the shirt fall. "They had to take part of a couple ribs, thanks to how they broke, fix a bunch of internal damage, and they thought they'd have to take the leg, at first. Obviously they didn't, but..." He sighed. "Safe to say my future as a field agent still looks real fuzzy right now."

Odessa nodded sympathetically. "Mm. And... how do you feel about that?"

"Ask me again after another month of rehab," he said with a sheepish chuckle. "Once I know if walking is something I can mange on my own. That'll definitely clear things up. Not sure right now." He picked the cup up and took another drink.

"If you're not... enthusiastic about returning to field work, maybe it's not a bad idea to take other options under consideration," she said.

Sollen nodded absently. "The possibility of a desk job's been tossed around. Analyst or handler." He wrinkled his nose. "Not sure how I feel about that, either. Getting to know someone, multiple someones, and having to not just send them into but watch them deal with dangerous and stressful situations... don't know if I could do it. That might be worse than doing it myself." He gestured to the scarring that ran down the left side of her face. "How'd your handler feel about that?"

"Regretful, but what we were doing was important," Odessa said with a shrug. "And it's part of the job."

"Part of the job..." he muttered. "Well, I have a few months of medical leave to work our if it's a part I want to--or have to--deal with anymore."

"Best of luck with that." She rested a hand on his shin and gave a light, supportive squeeze.

"Thanks," he said wryly, finishing off the brandy. She held up the flask to offer more and he shook his head. "That's enough about me, though. What have you been up to? Aside from toppling secret societies, I guess."

"First of all, I came looking to talk about you," Odessa corrected. "To find out how you were doing, I was worried after Taris. Second, given how entrenched and widespread it was, toppling the secret society has been a bit all-consuming..."

She ran through the story, with most of the details, all the way from Isen Four and Belsavis through the Cabal's ship and her final confrontation with Hunter.

And accepting Ardun's offer to be a double agent. For real this time.

"So... you're working for us?" Sollen asked when she was done, voice pitched low as if to keep secret, but hopeful nonetheless.

"Mm-hm." Odessa picked at the side of her thumb. "I don't know how close to the chest Ardun plays his cards for... sources like me, so it may be that only he, you, and I know my new allegiance."

"Lips sealed, I promise. I know how it works." He smiled. "Thank you for trusting me. If I can ask... what made you accept?"

"I followed orders I didn't entirely agree with, did... things to protect the Empire that were those hard calls I mentioned, almost got myself killed to keep it safe." She sighed. "And my reward for doing my job so well was having my will shackled. Bound to obey whatever they said, because I dared defy a Sith, even one bent on destroying the Empire he was supposed to help lead. I gave everything and was still no more than a tool to them, to rewire as they saw fit." She winced at his expression. Had that much of her hurt bled through? "Sorry."

"It's alright." He studied her face, searching for something. "So what made the Republic seem any better? Kothe and I used the keyword and took advantage of the brainwashing, wouldn't that make us just as bad?"

He would make a good analyst. Examining information for method, not just the end result. "You aren't the ones who did it to me, put an override chip in my brain. You only used it because you were seriously injured and scared" --she reached toward his injured side, stopping before she made contact-- "which makes people do things they normally wouldn't, and Ardun..." She bit her lip. "Ardun was protecting his people. The Sith who ordered it done were protecting their power."

Once she'd started really thinking about that, it never failed to bring a thin smile to her lips. The all-powerful, fearsome Sith so afraid of a single Cipher agent that they shattered her loyalty with the very action meant to guarantee it. It was almost poetic.

"That makes it better?" Sollen asked skeptically.

She shrugged. "Between people and power, I'm far more on board with protecting the former."

"Then maybe you aren't as jaded as you think you are," he said, lightly nudging her hip with his knee.

"That would be nice." Odessa tipped up the flask to empty the last dregs. I have too many ghosts for it to be true, but it would be nice...

He frowned. "If the Empire thinks you're loyal, won't it raise suspicion that you're on Coruscant?"

"Perhaps." She tucked the empty flask back in her pocket. "Imperial Intelligence was dissolved, so I'm not officially an agent. And they think I have the Black Codex from the Star Cabal, thanks to a few... strategically phrased half-truths. No telling where leads from that might take me."

"But if it puts you under scrutiny..." There was worry in his eyes, for her, and it made her heart clench.

"I work well under scrutiny," she promised. "Part of what made me a good fit for Intelligence in the first place was my natural charisma and working well under pressure. My assignment with your team, for example. Even under such scrutiny Ardun used my keyword--and he wasn't wrong to do that, Sollen, Intelligence sent me to stop him--I could have taken down nearly the entire team. Left you to die on Taris, killed Saber, Wheel, Ardun himself, and brought his plan crashing down around his corpse. I was supposed to, that was my assignment, and the only reason I didn't is I didn't want to." A sharp, brittle laugh. "Call it my first act of rebellion after getting free of the... mental restraints."

He stared at her a moment, then chuckled. "You're a little bit terrifying, 'Dessa, and I'm glad your on our side now, even if you weren't then."

"Well, thank you." She hummed a wry laugh, smiling at Dessa. She didn't think he realized he'd done that. She liked it. "I've never liked to kill anyway, unless I have to, and in that case it seemed a good way to start pushing back. Besides," Odessa caught his eye and gave a meaningful smile, "I liked you, most of you. Some more than others."

That blush was back, climbing his neck and ears. "Thanks. We liked you, too... Some more than others."

He was starting to look tired, and she'd pushed this visit longer than was likely prudent regardless, but she wasn't going to pass up an opening like that. "Maybe we should do something about that some more than others?"

Sollen's brows arched, a smile starting to curve his lips before shifting to mild concern. "Do you think it's a good idea? Could get complicated."

"Oh, it will undoubtedly get complicated," Odessa said wryly. Just logistically speaking, with you stuck here... "And I have no idea if it's a good idea, but I want to do it anyway, so long as you do."

He let the smile bloom. "Oh, I do. I'd like to see where this goes." He reached out to tentatively brush his fingers against the side of her hand. "Whatever that means, far as making it work."

"I suspect a lot of me visiting you when I can," she said with a smile, catching his hand before he withdrew and giving a squeeze. "Since it seems your ability to travel will be inhibited for... a while."

He snorted. "Considering I can barely manage to hobble a lap of the room right now, I think 'a while' is being generous. Or politely vague." He squeezed her hand back. "It'll give me something to look forward to."

Odessa nodded, heart pounding. "For now, though, I should probably go. Let you rest and not push my luck."

"Can't deny I need it," Sollen let go of her hand with a reluctant sigh, then smiled. "Thanks for the drink."

She chuckled, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. "You're welcome."

"Next time I'm buying," he said as she headed for the door.

"I'll hold you to that," she said warmly, and slipped from the room, out of the hospital, back to her shuttle. It wasn't until she was strapped in and running preflight that Odessa's smile fully bloomed.

The promise of there being a next time was something she would look forward to as well.

#queens fic #odessa isric #chance #ody/chance #imperial agent #imperial agent/chance #swtor #swtor fic #i wanna write all their Moments together #but with how long this was getting and everything else i wanna work on this makes sense as a oneshot #so i'll add the other scenes as ''chapters'' when i get the chance to write them #fun fact: title stolen from a planned jaaide/sanju oneshot i started literally a decade ago but scrapped bc it wasn't going anywhere #feels right giving it to another agent/side character romance xD

[fatheriimaginedyoutaller]

Two Aliens Walk into the Empire [SWTOR SECRET SANTA]

By: ReneTheStan/fatheriimaginedyoutaller

SWTOR Secret Santa Gift for: @space-unicorn-dot/ @tiredassmage

Fic also avaliable on AO3

Summary: Savosta, a Chiss, The Renagade Sith Chiaros Curo, Half Human Zabrak, Darth Nessight and Dark Lord of the Sith

Two very different embodiments of what it means to be a Force user, have a tense conversation about the paths they chose to take in life.

Special thanks to: @chokit-pyrus

[Fic under cut]

Drommund Kaas looked like an old decolored corpse that had come alive again and regained all of its senses at once.

Aliens of every stripe were outside celebrating in the streets of the sacred city. Dancing and throwing out firecrackers like their lives depended on it. A clash of cultures and colors made the gray walls reflect a rainbow of living organisms that were breathing and experimenting with happiness for the first time ever.

Savosta could see them from his balcony, doing things he would never dare to do in the cities controlled by the Empire, speaking in Tongues that were forbidden until a few minutes ago and eating food from planets far away from here.

The Chiss sighed and relaxed his shoulders as he felt the warm wind coming from the jungle’s south. He let it wrapped him in an embrace and tried to ignore how the happy atmosphere of the event contrasted with his gloomy usual personality and current mood.

A thing he would rarely admit was the fact he did not understand something.

But at least he could admit it to himself, into a dark corner of his head of course, and he could then try and suppress it forever. 

But what was the thing he didn’t understand?

“I knew I would find you here…”

Suddenly the warm breeze stopped and Savosta frowned. He knew what was gonna happen next. But he foolishly believed he had more time.

Savosta sighs and rubs his temple. Of course she would know where to find me. . .I’m the only blue skinned idiot who's not out there celebrating. . .

“Shouldn’t you be out there celebrating?” Chiaros asked with a smirk as if the Force had given her the power to read minds. 

“Shouldn’t you be at a stuffy old party giving a speech?” he replied without turning back to look at his old Academy companion.

Even saying that caused an uneasy feeling inside him. Another thing to suppress forever. He told himself to not be overwhelmed by her presence. 

Because he knew the truth, even before she took out that damn metal helmet and showed her horns and tattoos to the society that would have shunned her if she hadn’t had the power of a goddess practically running through her veins, he knew who Chiaros Curo was.

And he had a feeling she knew that too..

“I was never too much of a fancy party kind of woman,” she shrugged. “My crew will take care of it. . .”

The Chiss rolled his eyes. Who was she trying to fool? Honestly he was surprised it didn’t take this much for her to start treating her own crew like that. The history holocrons would remember her as the Sith Who Ended Slavery. The Breaker of Chains. . .

“Why are you here?” he challenged as he turned around to face her “Only to gloat on your newfound power?”

“Is that what you think of me?”She pressed a hand against her chest pretending to be hurt. “That I’m some sort of madwoman blinded by lust for control?”

It seemed like even the streets knew of the unnerving tension between them as a firecracker suddenly went off and exploded in a  million red colored shards of light above them.

“What I think,” he said as the effect vanished “Is that perhaps there’s more of your father inside of you than you care to admit…”

He knew he crossed the line with that one.

“Why?” She spatted, another firecracker went off, this time blue. “Because I have a lightsaber, an attitude problem and I’ve killed? Is the bar for evil truly that low these days?

Savosta rolled his eyes again, turned around and looked at a group of twi’lek children running through the streets, “Forget it, I knew you wouldn't understand…”

“And I knew you wouldn’t care to explain…”

There was a time where they would’ve died for each other, the Chiss lamented. Because for Savosta, even thinking about it brought him a great amount of pain.

He heard the steps of the new Dark Lord getting farther and farther. At that moment however it seemed like his body and voice were possessed by a Force Ghost that he couldn’t stop from using its power to pronounce words and turn around to face his old ally.

“Is it true what you said up there?” he said.

He witnessed the cloaked figure stopping in her tracks and facing him once more 

“What?” she asked as she crossed her arms.

“That you would eliminate any Jedi who would get in your way?”

Chiaros’ expression turned inquisitive “Well I didn’t say only Jedi…”

“Don’t joke around, not now.”

“Why do you even care?” she shrugged nonchalantly “Since when are you above tormenting a few peaceful flower children of the Force?”

“I’m not like that anymore and you know it…” Savosta defended himself.

“And that’s your curse to bear,” She added and seemed about to joke again until her expression morphed into a knowing one. “You…you have acquaintanced with one of them, haven’t you?...

“You’re friends with a jedi now?”

“I would appreciate it if you stopped using your Force Intuition on me, thank you very much.”

“Don’t joke around, not now.” she parroted him. 

“So what if I did?” he shrugged as if imitating her too. “Aren’t I on my right to do so? I mean, stranger things have happened, right? Like a certain Zabrak falling in love with an Empire Capt–

Another firecracker went off at the same time his oxygen was taken away by the Force and he started levitating off the ground. He coughed as he was dragged by Chiaros’ pulse via her raising her arm. 

She used the force to drag him in front of her .

“Do.Not.Talk.About.My.Husband.Or my crew.Ever.” she warned menacingly.

He kept coughing and nodded but the new Dark Lord didn’t seem satisfied with the answer. She kept her eyes locked on Savosta. That gave him an opportunity to sneakily pull out a dagger from his pocket and shove into her ribs.

She winced as another firecracker went off and both aliens fell into the ground with their faces illuminated by a purple light.

They both laid on the ground for a while 

“Alright… then… do not talk about my… acquaintances again, how is  that for a fair deal?” he managed to say between gasps for air. Savosta looked at his former friend as she used the force to heal her wound and regained composure. 

“It’s all a contest of who can swing a sword better, you know that right?” Savosta continued. “We’ve both had our reasons to choose our side on it and we won’t apologize for it…

Another pause amongst them.

“No,” Chiaros Curo, Darth Nessight, Dark Lord of the Sith said. “I suppose we won’t…”

#2022swtorss #star wars fic #star wars #star wars the old republic #swtor #sw fic #my fic #my post #sith warrior #female sith warrior #swtor oc #swtor fic

[dingoat]

[Ugh do you know how HARD this one was for me to figure out when we still have so much BETWEEN THEM to work out??? Have they told each other they love one another yet? Will they, would they? Anyway I did my best and it still hurt >.> ~750 words on the theme of pining for the impossible and a big big problem with bonded souls.]

You're Not Mine

She didn’t want to think about the time drawing to an end, she almost didn’t… want to keep progressing, knowing that every step forward she took in gaining control over her wild half also drew her a step closer to having to… leave.

She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to be apart. She wanted him to come with her even though she knew it was impossible, he never would, and yet she could not stay here forever, the thought of drawing out her return to the fox left her writhing with guilt. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, and yet all she could do was cling onto every moment she had  while it was still there for her to hold.

“Ahuska,” Thirteen’s voice was gently amused. “How about you not dig in those claws like you’re holding on for dear life.”

“Sorry, sorry-” she winced and pulled back her hands from around his waist, folding them self consciously against her chest only to have one of his strong, long-fingered hands wrap around hers and tug it gently back to his side.

She shivered, then sighed, and tucked her face under his chin. “It’s not fair,” she whispered, as she had countless times before.

He knew what she meant. He felt what she meant. And he softly sighed in kind, knowing he could no more lie to her than cut out his own tongue. “It isn’t,” he agreed, moving his hand to rub slow, comforting circles between her shoulderblades.

“I don’t want a life without you in it,” she murmured, her muzzle sleek and soft against his jawline.

And it hurt him, as it hurt her, and he was silent for a while as he tried to find the words that would help her understand why she yearned for the impossible. “Ahuska. I love you, but you’re not mine,” he whispered, but as sweet and earnest as his tone was, he couldn’t guard against the way her heart twisted to hear it.

“Why not, why not? Your heart is big enough for me as well, I know it, I know it…”

“Big enough for your love, maybe,” he said, his hand sliding to the back of her head, fingers weaving through her hair, hoping to soothe her before speaking further. Their hearts shared their melancholy, their wistfulness, their frustration at a galaxy that had pressed them together when they could not be. He tilted his head and kissed the bridge of her muzzle. “Your love, but not your hate.”

“What- what?” She gave her head a fierce little shake against his face. “I don’t hate you. I never hated you, you know I don’t blame you for the way anything happened…”

“Five,” Thirteen said, and the way she twisted against him, her response so deep and visceral that the revulsion echoed in his own heart, only made him more certain.

She hid her grimace by tucking her face between his neck and the cushion, but she could do nothing to keep her own feelings from him. “So what?  You’re not him.”

“But I love him,” Thirteen answered simply. “You have every right to hate him, and I would never ask you to change that, to forgive him for my sake.”

“So what’s…”

“I don’t blame you for your feelings. But I can’t stand to feel them for myself, and I’m sure you don’t appreciate sharing mine.”

She didn’t.

Opening her heart to him had been… oh, it had been everything, to know one another so perfectly, man and bothan and wolf and hawkbat, but she knew how carefully they skirted around the subject of Five. She didn’t want their bond tainted with an awareness of Thirteen’s love and loyalty for him…

And how could Thirteen go to him, with Ahuska’s seething aversion simmering in the back of his mind?

How could she do that to him?

“Don’t,” he whispered, feeling her on the verge of spiralling. “You’re bigger than the mess life made of you. You’ll be unstoppable one day, and you won’t need me.”

She shuddered, and closed her eyes as she tucked herself more closely against him. “But I want you.”

“And right now you have me,” he reminded her as he kissed her on the forehead. Please, gods. He fought to convince himself as strongly as he wished it for her. Let it be enough.

#swtor #swtor fic #imperial agent #and a lil force sensitive bothan #in the process of learning how to not murder people by accident #something something overcoming imperial conditioning #anyway I'm so grateful for all the asks folk sent #I have not had much at all by way of art energy this week #so it's nice to have something different to exercise creativity on #and mulling over the potential stories #helps get through the damp and dreary work days #I am #so very weary #XD #dingoat writes

[fleeting-sanity]

🗡 [ Previous Entry ] 🗡 [ Read @ Ao3 ] 🗡 [ Chapters Index ] 🗡

Thank you to @swtorramblings for beta-reading! <333

It was another simultaneous assault of the mind when she had barely recovered from Ord Mantell. She collapsed to the ground, her fall stopped by the tree behind her. The fear was similar to that of her early days of Nathema. Rio’s rejection slowly faded to the background, replaced by this devastating news. Correcting her breathing was an uphill battle.

Her body was strained but she had to keep running. A particular spot behind some large industrial containers seemed secluded enough. She had to stop her hands from shaking to dial Serrus who answered promptly with a haunted expression. From his point of view, it looked as if Vaylin was in a quake zone from the shivering. 

“My Lady… take your time. I’m all ears.”

“Get-get me. I’m in… Dantooine. Somewhere, I-I think I’m near a tram station? Hurry.”

The call abruptly ended, leaving Serrus with little information to act on. He refrained from calling back and instead immediately got to work; locking the ship he was living in, supplies for Vaylin, and a shuttle towards Dantooine. His mind couldn’t stop replaying the news broadcast earlier that day, wondering if there were people already hunting Vaylin down, but the concern mostly boiled down to those people dying by Vaylin’s hands instead. He swiped away all of the fog to concentrate as he stepped out of the shuttle to Dantooine’s farmlands.

He was hoping for a follow-up call from Vaylin while he began the search, worrying about what could have happened to warrant the silence. 

Luckily, it didn’t take long to find her after a few taxi stops. The colors of the containers matched those of what he saw in the holocall, and he carefully approached the scared woman. The sight of her reminded him of his late daughter, fortifying his resolve to help Vaylin in any way he could. “My Lady… I’m here.”

Her response was to slowly lift her head to meet Serrus’ eyes, hers being empty. It seemed like she had enough time to bury the anxiety temporarily to focus ahead. Serrus opened the bag he was carrying to hand over a robe for disguise. Soon after drinking the water he offered, they began moving. The journey was quite uneventful except for one incident.

An ambush by leftover pirates. Perhaps their hurried and unnatural movement attracted some unwanted attention. Being unable to use their sabers nor the Force against the pirates pointing their weapons at them was a predicament, but not one above the Zakuulan pair. Serrus moved quickly to close the gap between two pirates in front of him, then bashed their heads together–his larger size certainly was advantageous for the feat. The other two pirates did not manage to land a shot at Serrus as Vaylin kicked the Chagrian’s rifle away, causing him to fall onto his Ugnaught comrade nearby. She swung a few punches on the Chagrian’s head for good measure. The remaining Ugnaught pirate held his hands up as Serrus pointed a stolen pirate’s blaster at him.

Vaylin knocked the lights out of him too.

The pair then left the campsite using stolen pirates speeders, expediting their journey. She felt a pinch of relief once Serrus’ shuttle departed Dantooine, but the quietness caused her mind to replay the moments with that Jedi. Only pain and regret. What was worse was the minutes of bliss, a taste of life together before the mistake she made. Perhaps the dreadful revelation of her survival would have been manageable if Rio was still by her side at that time.

Serrus was concerned but apprehensive in his intention to talk to her. But both of their idleness was disrupted when Chonky greeted Vaylin by nuzzling her leg. She picked the gizka up and hugged him tight.

“My Lady, if I may speak…”

“Hm.”

The response was earned after a few seconds of silence, which further unnerved Serrus. He gulped down his nerves. 

“I think the safest course of action is to stay abroad while I make stops on planets for supplies. I will make sure we stay undetected.”

Was that truly the best for her? To run around, be hunted, and live in fear? To think that she was the one doing the hunting not too long ago. She kept quiet as her mind formed her own decision. One that would change her life and possibly regret later.

As for the mind of the Barsen’thor, it was utter chaos. Doubt started to cloud around his decision and earlier words. His body begged for comfort as his mind was thrown into a cyclone of emotions. His eyes landed on the warm stew, a manifestation of Vaylin’s affection towards him. Once the fog of confusion dispersed, came the regret. He wished to turn back time and perhaps handle the confession better. 

However, this wasn’t the first time for him. 

He had turned down a few hearts baring themselves out to him over the years. According to him, it was a perplexing case: he was just being a standard Jedi, but he came to the conclusion that the galaxy must have been starved of kindness and love to the point of misconstruing small acts of compassion. But pray tell, why did this one hurt? Why did he entertain those pining thoughts and hunger for the moments he would spend with her, just to break her heart?

A heavy sigh followed as he cleaned up the camp, resulting from worrying about her. He couldn’t give further chase due to his condition, and he was already out of the temple for too long. They must have been looking for him, and sure enough, not long into his walk back to the temple, he heard a voice calling from afar. The three guardians retrieved him as Vyria waited at the temple’s entrance, looking harrowed. She gave her brother a tight hug.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” asked Rio gently. 

“Well, a lot! Ugh, let’s sit this down… I need to unpack this without screwing up!” as the siblings sat on the temple bench, and the silver-maned Jedi took a few breaths in and out. “First. YOU. What the hell, bro? Why did you just saunter off like that? You’re… you’re doing that thing again!” 

“W-what thing?”

“You know it! But fine, I’ll spell it out. You’re doing the my-sister-isn’t-really-important-to-me again! You should have told me you’re ALIVE!”

“I’m–I’m sorry-”

“Yeah, you’re always sorry later. I just have to get used to it.”

“I promise to do better. I hate disappointing you…”

Vyria covered her face with her hands, while her knees supported her elbows. An exasperated sigh. “Look, we should be focusing on you. I get the feeling you’re still out of it. There’s a… uh… something else. But not now, Red’s on his way here.”

“What is it? Please tell me?”

“Listen, Spiky. I’m gonna be upfront. I want you to rest because of selfish reasons. If you rest, I can get rested too. Can we do that?”

Riornivo reluctantly agreed, retreating to one of the chambers to recuperate. Not long into his fruitless meditation, Rionnic appeared with the same look on his face as previously seen on Vyria. This must have been something big, and definitely associated with him. Perhaps his Emperor twin might be more open about sharing it?

“How’s your wound?” Rionnic asked half a second after closing the chamber door.

“Uhm… it’s gone.”

Rionnic raised an eyebrow to that. Perhaps his skepticism over his brother’s words was born out of the frequency of near-death experiences Riornivo had. He suddenly tugged open the Jedi’s inner robe, revealing his chest and confirming his brother’s words. “R-Red! I’m fine.”

“What did he do to you?”

“You fought him. You know what his powers are. That’s what he did to me. Completely harmless, I swear.”

His crimson-haired twin seemed satisfied with the explanation, taking a seat with a sigh. “Where is he now?”

“Gone. He won’t be anywhere, he’s back to hibernation. Trust me, we’re not into Dread Master business anymore,” attempted Riornivo in easing up the tense atmosphere. “Red, it’s my turn for questions now… Please tell me what’s going on.”

To which Rionnic deepened his eyebrow-raising expression, while his eyes condescendingly traveled up and down his twin. Unfortunately, he was not immune to his brother’s pleading eyes, being mere seconds away from revealing the information when his pager beeped. His eyes widened upon reading the message, immediately standing up. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m your twin, Red. I think we’re past confirming such things,” he said as he knelt down to Rionnic’s eye level, putting on his best pleading face. “The matter seems dire. Let me know so I can help…”

“I’m needed in Zakuul. Stay put–I’ll tell you later.”

“Red!”

But he disappeared behind the chamber door, leaving his twin increasingly baffled. Obviously, the Jedi could just read his sibling’s minds or even control their brain to do whatever he wanted. The only thing barring him from doing that was the fact that he already did so a few months ago. It became a test of integrity and patience for him, made difficult by the possible urgency of the matter. Then, there was the confession earlier…

Rionnic arrived at the ground level of the Palace of the Dragon, welcomed by a royal entourage that he thought was unnecessary. The entourage led him towards the Knights barracks, where he could hear bickering between two familiar voices. 

“You should’ve just stayed home.”

“This is called common sense. I can’t just roam around freely while you’re incarcerated. They will come for me sooner or later.”

“You’re fine with your girls growing up fatherless like we do? Your situation’s already resolved!”

“I… No, this is-”

The siblings finally noticed Rionnic standing nearby with his entourage, arms folded with his classic annoyed expression. The new Emperor dismissed his subordinates. He was quiet, waiting for Vaylin to state her intention, but he was met with only a glare.

“I assume you’ve seen the broadcast. Let’s… talk about that. My sister here wants to surrender herself and that includes me as well. We think it’s time…”

“I’m not investing time in asking for your reasons. There will be no changing your minds, no stupid demands, and no negotiations. Is that clear?”

Arcann’s face changed, displaying a transparent hesitance. Vaylin looked like she was thinking as her eyes were downcast, recalling the words of Serrus deterring her from surrendering. It softened her heart to witness how much the Knight Captain cared for her. She put her hands on his arms, thanking him for all the service and loyalty, but firmly enforced her decision. The affectionate gesture stunned him, as he stuttered his next words; 

“I-I’ll be sure t-to regularly visit you!”

As she returned to present time, she finally spoke the first words to Rionnic. “Just one. You must fulfill this or else.”

To which her successor frowned. 

“Do not ever let your brother see me. Ever. I can effortlessly destroy all you hold dear if you fail this.”

The threat produced a sinister smirk from Rionnic, while Arcann voiced his disapproval over it. The current Emperor secretly agreed with her request as he despised seeing his twin so bewitched by her, wanting to keep Riornivo from any more corruption–no matter how misguided or prejudiced it was of him. He knew that people are capable of change and redemption, but he also knew the devastation that his twin was capable of if he became corrupted.

“Then there will be a condition. Are you ready for a small humiliation? The people need to know that they are now safe from both of you.”

Remnants of Rionnic’s Sith mind enjoyed the power he held over the two while waiting for their answer. Their expected acceptance was made sweeter by their defeated tone. He then ordered the two to wait while the preparations for the broadcast were about to start. The timing of the Knights returning to their barracks could not have been more precise, as he ordered them to put their former rulers in handcuffs, while he proceeded to the throne room.

There was a moment of quiet between the siblings. Vaylin’s mind was scattered, but a particular woman appeared in between her thoughts. “Did your wife know about this?”

“She knows.”

How come? There must have been approval on Aryuni’s end, or was she forced to? Not wanting to jump to conclusions, Vaylin tried prying for more details. Arcann flashed a wistful smile. 

“Why don’t you ask her directly? Give her a call.”

Was that a challenge? Even though they both could easily use the Force to activate the holocom with their hands tied, Vaylin resorted to ordering one of the Knights for that. 

“Heeeeeeeeyyyy Vaylin! How’s it goi–oh…. Oh. ”

Aryuni’s usual sunny disposition immediately changed after noticing the handcuffs. Her mannerism puzzled Vaylin–how could she act so casually knowing Arcann’s future? It felt like she was in another dimension each time she talked to her eccentric sister-in-law.

“Hello, my love. How’s the girls?” Arcann interjected.

“Hey! They’re pestering Serrus now, haha. I feel like I know what our topic is gonna be. Are you asking for Chonky, Vaylin?”

Not the first thing in her mind, but she was slightly remorseful for forgetting Chonky. She was surprised to see Serrus choosing to go to Arcann’s place. Aryuni’s affirmation of the gizka’s improving condition was a sliver of positivity. But onto the actual topic; “How are you fine with this…?”

“What… what do you want me to do about it?” asked Aryuni in a deeper octave, sounding confused yet serious. Again, it took Vaylin off-guard, but before she could retort, Aryuni held up a hand and continued; “Look, I’m very much in love with your brother, yes, but I’m never denying his past. If it catches up to him this soon, then so be it. I’m in love with the person he’s trying to be, his future… but his past affected more than just the two of us. It’s bigger than us, Vaylin. I hope you understand.”

“What about your twins?”

“Woah, I can raise them by myself. I’m not planning on hiding who your brother is from them. I will… nurture them to be resilient against hardships and I–oops, Serrus! Wait!” Aryuni reacted to something that happened off-camera, before continuing with; “Uh, anything else you need to ask? The girls need me, sorry.”

“No. Unless you have?” Vaylin asked pointedly towards Arcann, who took the chance to profess his love towards the mother of his children. It felt slightly sensitive considering her love life recently. She could only roll her eyes to that. When asked about mother, Arcann credited Aryuni for talking Senya out of presenting herself to Vaylin, lest there be further calamity. 

But the time had come. The rest of the Knights gathered from the other rooms to usher their former rulers towards the throne room where Rionnic awaited. With each step, her heart sank. The holocameras were being prepared as Rionnic sat on the throne with a body language of impatience and vexation. 

“Don’t make me wipe away that hidden gloat of yours, Sith.” Vaylin hissed.

“Get over yourself. I have other places to be.” As Rionnic crossed his leg on that uncomfortable chair. “This needs to hurry up. What’s taking so long?!”

The cameraman pleaded for more time; the fear was transparent from his eyes–probably recalling the times where Vaylin ended the lives of his colleagues with a flick of her fingers. What about this new Emperor, was he just as ruthless? 

“A-and now we’re live on air!”

Rionnic couldn’t even put up a presentable face to the camera before starting his speech. As for Vaylin, the realization slowly washed over her as her head somberly tilted downwards. Arcann remained steadfast, as if it was just another Taungsday for him.

“Greetings… Let me get straight to the point. As you can see, next to me are the former Emperor and Empress of Zakuul, Arcann and Vaylin. You can sleep easier now, as they won’t be a threat to the galaxy anymore. Their trial will begin when the preparations are complete. Lastly, let me make one thing clear…”

Rionnic stood up from the Eternal Throne, taking a few steps forward, his boots clanking against the platform.

“Their trials will remain private. I understand that it would be cathartic to see them face their fate, but public scrutiny can potentially derail the trial proceedings. I am using my absolute power as the Emperor to enact Act Two-Nine-Four-Nine Aurek, that is to make this decision uncontestable. Have a good day.”

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