#i suppose revan only wanted to be invited to the sith party so that she could get the guy drunk and steal his uniform afterwards... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crqstalite · 4 years

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SHADOW OF THE SITH, Interlude.

against my better judgement, this became a 7k angst fest for both parties involved. a lot of stuff is vague regarding Tri and Theron because I am currently underage and I’m not actually sure whether I’m allowed to write anything explicit. For now, it remains as vague as possible to allude to what the two got up to. (legal side of tumblr bail me out) -

TRI'AMA._THE_FURY.

"You sure he's coming?" Vette asks incredulously, arms crossed as Tri'ama zips a different armor set on. More relaxed and less plating than what she'd worn on her trip through Rishi, and though her Twi'lek companion didn't have natural eyebrows, she raises them anyways at the change of clothes, "I mean you did invite a secret agent from the other faction to your ship, with more than a few personal secrets aboard. Might want to rethink that part."

"He'll come." Tri'ama answers, reassuredly squeezing her shoulder as Vette sighs. It's not even particularily late, they're still parked just outside of Raider's Cove, as they'd finally touched down after Marr and Satele left. But, they were supposed to be off to Vaiken ages ago for a restock, and even she's getting a little nervous Theron may have cancelled on her, "And don't be so quick to distrust him."

Vette grumbles something about Balmorra that stings, and she disappears back into the Fury.

They also didn't have much time to spare either. The Barsen'thor had taken off nearly three hours prior with her two companions (lovers?) in tow. The flight to Yavin's fourth moon was no simple trip and probably would take her own crew a few days to get there. Jakarro would meet them on Nar Shaddaa, and Theron would join him for that half of the trip until they arrived. It had taken a bit of convincing, but it would be two and a half days with the SIS agent and her crew before they arrived on the Smuggler's Moon.

Her hair was still damp from the rushed shower she'd taken, plastered on her forehead wasn't exactly how she wanted to be presented, but towel drying it always seemed to make it worse. Vette was lucky, she had no hair to primp or have ruined by finnicky freshers. But it wasn't as if it really mattered, did it? Theron had already seen her at her worst, bloodied and bruised to get him from Revan's clutches, a few curls wouldn't change his image of her.

She hoped.

Why in the blazes did he make her so damn nervous? She hadn't even cared about...Quinn seeing her in a state of undress days after they'd met, but Theron even seeing a hair out of place puts a fear in her she can't quench. Is she afraid of what the next two days will bring, yes. There's a bunk cleaned out for Theron (Pierce wouldn't tell her which one, she has a fear that he'd given him Quinn's), and the other two are playing it by ear. They've made arrangements for Jaesa to also be picked up on Nar Shaddaa (she'd been out for days prior, and they figured giving her more time would gain her approval) when they drop Theron off, and there's nothing that can go wrong.

Tri'ama hopes. She happens to do a lot of that these days.

Vette hasn't even formally met Theron, in fact. She's acting on just little tidbits of information from her. The Twi'lek has been rather protective over her lately, and has made a few scathing remarks about the SIS agent in her free time, mostly circling around the botched date in the cantina few weeks ago that she tries to forget. Tri'ama can't blame her, her friend is only worried about her getting hurt again. In her own way, making fun of the man every time his name crosses her lips. It's rather frustrating if she's being honest, but changing her opinion won't be easy. Pierce hadn't been so hard to convince of it being a good decision, and had even rewarded her with a friendly, if not also hesitant, kiss on the temple for her so-called 'moving on'. He was shocked she didn't hit him for it, but it felt like the end of an era for the two that she reciprocated with a hug. Pierce had never belonged to her (and at risk of seeming rude, she never should've wanted him to either), but she hoped whoever came next took good care of him. He deserved that much after staying with her through it all.

Tri'ama spends a bit more time waiting, pacing back and forth in front of the Fury, before resigning to sit on the extended entrance platform and wait a little less than patiently as she waits for her vision to stop swimming in front of her (the Barsen'thor's healing had been welcome, but some injuries hadn't been healed and stupidly she'd pushed off Pierce's healing in favor of getting a shower and dressed. She regrets it already as her body aches everywhere). She considers calling him, asking him where he is and when they can take off, but she's already forced herself on him more than once in the last week. Doing it again wouldn't be in her favor, and she already feels like she's on shaky ground with him anyways. She chuckles to herself, she's Sith, at one point she was having everyone else bow to her. Screw their schedules, she needed to waited on hand and foot because stars forbid she do anything for herself.

It's commonplace in the Empire among her 'kind', but looking back on it, it just seems so out of place. Not that she was going to go full Jedi and start trying to meditate (she'd tried, never again) on her previous actions, but she's afraid Theron is trying to bring her over to the light. Unintentionally, or otherwise. She was actually going to wait for him instead of brushing off his late arrival and leaving on her own. Even if it's hot and the only presentable clothes she didn't wear into battle were black and she's overheating.

She stands a little too quickly, head spinning when she sees the all too familiar red jacket flash by her vision that she trips just a bit, nearly having to push herself up with the Force when Theron dashes over and catches her mid-fall. He readjusts his own bag, a smug smirk on his face, "Does this count as a rescue?" he asks, hazel eyes twinkling in the midday sun. Infuriatingly.

"Maybe." She rights herself, trying not to roll her eyes as she dusts her clothes off (that hurts still, a headache pounding at her temples). Her ankle stings for that very moment, but it can be ignored in light of the fact that the man who'd taken over her dreams for days was finally here. He hadn't changed from what he was wearing earlier, obviously, and runs a hand through his hair. For a moment, she's nervous about whether she's gotten too dressed up in the black armor with a billowing half skirt and red leggings, hastily pulled on. Tri'ama was a lot of things, but desperate wasn't one of them. He's looking at her, up and down before pulling her into a quick but rather rough kiss, as if it's been days instead of a few hours since they saw each other last. He makes to pull away before she takes a fistful of his shirt and pulls him back. He softens the kiss this time, and she's nearly begging for time to stop so that she can just have this. Not Revan, not the Emperor's hand. Just her and Theron, together. Stars, what she would've given to be raised Jedi, or even just in the Republic to see him more often. Power be damned, who needed a Dark council seat when you had him?

Stars, she has changed.

He makes to wrap an arm around her waist, and it's beginning to creep further down bellow her belt before they both hear someone clearing their throat very loudly at the top of the steps of the Fury. They pull away from each other so quickly she almost gets whiplash trying to turn around to find who had so rudely interrupted her fantasy. Her face flushes once she realizes it's only Vette, her own eyes averted from the two for the time being, "Pierce has the ship fired up. Ready to leave, or do you need more time with Spy Boy?"

"I'm coming, Vette." She tries not to be frustrated with the Twi'lek's intrusion, she had only come to let her know. Besides, she figures this will be the one and only time anyone catches them outside of closed doors anyways. Might as well be Vette instead of someone like Satele mid Yavin excursion.

"That's what she said." Vette whispers just loud for Tri'ama to hear, which only manages to make her want to playfully (or not so playfully) slap the girl more, "Hurry it up, we don't have all day!"

"So that's Vette." Theron snaps her out of her thoughts, once Vette has gone back inside the Fury, "Somehow, just like how I imagined her."

"You'll come to love her antics, just not at this very moment." Tri'ama answers, hands on her hips as she tries not to meet his gaze, but she smiles anyways, "What took you so long coming over here anyways?"

"Couple of wild jungle beasts is all. Slowed me down, but I'm good to go if you are." He answers. He doesn't look too shaken up, or roughed up for that matter other than his matted hair, and she leads him up the stairs, punching in the code as the door slides open. He's more curious about the ship at first, eyes turned upwards before following her inside the dim lit ship. He doesn't see Broonmark behind him in the hall at first, before he nearly jumps as he makes sense of the four eyes that are all pinned on him. Theron turns to her in question, fear in his force signature and in his dilated pupils, "Friend of yours?"

"Of course. Broonmark, I told you to make yourself appear more friendly." She says sternly to the Talz. Given, he had no reason to listen to her, but it had been a friendly request rather than a demand, "And to not scare Theron when he arrived."

"We tried to. Little spy man not ready." Broonmark roars (is there a touch of sarcasm in there? Tri'ama's curious, he'd never used it before), and she shakes her head in good-natured disapproval. Hopefully, Broonmark would keep more to himself, no need to have Theron absolutely terrified while he stayed on the Fury. The Talz wouldn't have much reason to stalk him either as he was an ally for the time being, but she'd have a talk with him later.

Vette has returned, Pierce in tow. The latter had changed out of his armor into a black tunic and trousers, and she figures it's the least threatening the man is ever going to be out of his plated armor, "If we're doing introductions, I might as well start. Name's Vette." The Twi'lek starts, crossing her arms. Her blue eyes are judgemental as she takes the agent in, but she's curious. A good sign she hadn't put him off completely just yet, even with the less than respectful introduction, "Pilot and associate to the Emperor's Wrath."

"Lieutenant Pierce. Imperial Black Ops." Pierce answers clippedly, in a similar stance to his smaller crew member. He'd been so open to meeting Theron before, but his force signature cries out in apprehension. She wonders why initially, before realizing Vette must've told him about she'd caught them outside. Not to mention, as close as she is with Pierce and interacting with him as often as she does, his personality changes drastically around strangers.

"And this Talz is Broonmark." Tri'ama says, motioning to the Talz as he comes to stand with the others, towering over even Pierce, "You'll meet my apprentice when we land on Nar Shaddaa, Jaesa Willsaam. You may like her, you may not."

"Noted." Theron says. He's uncomfortable, as he's trying to hide through his closed off mind. But his anxious stance is clear, "Theron Shan. Ex-SIS." he hesitates before adding, "For the moment."

Vette grins in a way Tri'ama doesn't like, "Oh please. No need for any other introductions, we already know all about you, Shan." A similar smirk crosses over Pierce's face, Theron tightening his grip on his bag. Her face flushes, and now she has no excuse for why other than her embarassment. Vette was overexaggerating, as she often did, but she had confided in the two about the aforementioned agent more than once. Theron's eyes flicker to hers, and she puts her hands on her hips.

"Don't torture the poor man, he only just got here." Tri'ama says as sternly as possible as Vette pouts playfully, sticking her tongue out, "Vette..."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll play nice with Theron. Can we get going now?" She asks, motioning towards the cockpit. Vette is partially only excited because she'd allowed her to pilot the Fury to Nar Shaddaa. It hadn't been the first time she'd ever piloted, but it had been the first time since she'd piloted in the captain's chair. Being held up by Theron probably didn't put him very high on her list of likeable people at that very moment.

"Of course. I'll get Theron settled in. Has Toovee made lunch yet?" Tri'ama questions as Vette hurries off without answering her question. The droid is nowhere to be seen, and Broonmark wanders off into the bowels of the ship with less than even a nod.

"Droid's been tinkerin' in the kitchen all afternoon, m'lord. Figure because you told it we'd have guests it's makin' somethin' nice." He smiles bitterly, "Not that it's a bad thing, of course."

"I figure not. Poor Toovee is going to short circuit himself trying to make a meal. I haven't updated his drivers in a while either." Tri'ama says sheepishly, hoping her ship droid wouldn't implode while Theron was onboard, "Either way Ash, you're dismissed. I'll see you at dinner?"

He nods in a sort of halfbow before following Vette into the cockpit. Now left alone, she beckons Theron to follow her into the opposite side of the Fury, where the crew quarters lie empty. Thankfully, the two that shared the room for the time being had cleaned as requested. Pierce's armor was nowhere to be found (surely in the cargo bay), and Vette had left her blasters on her bunk. Jaesa's was free of wrinkles, though she'd left the holdout blaster Pierce had purchased for her (even though the three of them had requested the fallen Jedi take it). The only one free and not stripped of it's sheets was, and she inwardly groans, Quinn's empty bunk. Tri'ama wishes that she had gone all that time never knowing and just inviting the Captain into her quarters at night instead of finding him at every location she could. She raises her eyes to the agent instead, trying to slow her breath and quiet the memories of dark nights prior to now, "This one--" She says, trying to keep her eyes from it, "Is yours. Do let me know if Pierce and Vette bother you too much at night, you can-" She cuts herself off, letting him step past her into the room and look around while he waits for her to continue. When she doesn't, he throws a curious look over his shoulder.

"I can...?" Theron trails off, mocking her as he sits down on the bunk with his bag. Tri'ama had just barely caught herself from offering her own bed to him as she used to do with Quinn, and a shiver runs up her spine as she wonders what the fast fingers on a datapad can do to her bare skin. She shakes the thought from her mind, but stores it away for later use (later use, the hell was she on right now?), "Well, Pierce and Vette seem nice, you talk about me with them?"

There's sarcasm hiding beneath the remark as the door closes behind her, as she comes to stand in front of him with her arms crossed, "They're typically kinder." she pauses, "And no, not as they allude to."

"Is there a reason they weren't to me?" He asks, surprising her as he pulls her in closer to him fast enough that she has to regain her footing, hands resting on his shoulders for balance. There's a certain sparkle of lust in his eyes as he quizzes her, arms around her waist. She indulges him after a teasing moment, leaning down to kiss him before pulling herself away because she knows where this is going to lead if she stays much longer, a disgruntled noise made by Theron in disapproval.

"As much as I'd love to spend the entire day with you, Theron, I have a droid to fix and a ship to run." There's a hidden 'I also don't want to make out with you on my ex-husband's bunk' beneath that. Just being in here still makes her uncomfortable and indulging Theron further in here especially is a challenge in itself. As much as she hates it, she does need to begin distancing herself from him at some point. Maybe it won't hurt so much when they inevitably have to split after their mission to Yavin is over.

A ringing holocom stops her before she leaves and before he can say anything to contradict her. Meeting Theron's hazel eyes while he lays back on the bunk, she makes to answer it as he fills the little blue holo before she can check who had sent it to her.

"You may not see this, my lord. But I was told you'd be arriving on Nar Shaddaa in a few days by your apprentice when we met on Dromound Kaas. I am off your extended leave by three days, and will be returning alongside Jaesa when you arrive." He bows politely, and she can now see this was recorded instead of directly calling her because of the lack of reaction of seeing her, "I will see you soon, my lord."

Even through the holo, it feels like his piercing blue eyes are most literally piercing through her soul. Yavin IV was supposed to be focused on Revan and inadvertently teasing Theron. Quinn wasn't due to be back until after Yavin, but he must've met Jaesa along the way, and Jaesa would've unwillingly told him where she was going if he asked her. Given, Tri'ama had never distinctly told him what he was to do after the leave was over, but returning to her service wasn't supposed to be in the cards for him. He was supposed to stay gone, even him staying on Dromound Kaas was better than waking up to him working in the cockpit every morning. Those lingering gazes for someone who wasn't his anymore, the shadows he cast in the dimlit Fury still haunted her.

"Crewmember?" Theron asks, as she slips her holocom back into her pocket, hiding her clenched fists inside before pulling them back out, trembling. He's probably able to tell she's upset, but she puts on a diluted smile anyways and ignores the curious look in his eyes.

"Captain Malavai Quinn." She swallows over a lump in her throat, a ball of anxiety winding itself up in her stomach as she pronounces the name with mild distaste, "Pilot and our medic."

He raises an eyebrow, "He hasn't been back in a while?" He quizzically asks, gesturing to the stripped bunk. All Tri'ama can do to keep from bolting out the room and hiding in her own is nod. The man thinks to himself as she moves to leave, "Wasn't he on Manaan with you?"

"That's the one." She tries to says jokingly, her back turned to him. Tri'ama doesn't want to explain much further than just that, and leave the explanation there in case she makes Theron feel threatened by him. What was there to be threatened by? Quinn was a lowly captain and Theron would be out of here in a few days. Her ex-husband, maybe, would get pushy and ask Vette or Pierce about it. Vette would surely answer about Theron (sarcastically and pointedly), and then she'd have Quinn quizzically asking her about the relation between the two. Quinn had never harassed her before their divorce, but she wasn't putting it past him now. He'd become rather sarcastic and cold when he'd found out about her and Pierce, and to say the least, she's more than concerned about the idea of what he would do now about an SIS agent.

Detour. Detour to Dromound Kaas after Theron was dropped off to formally get rid of him. She has to, or she'll go mad.

She leaves the crew quarters just as the agent moves to talk to her. Tri'ama has to make a decision soon, and whether or not this was worth continuing in the next few months. She might hurt him, but he's had other failed affairs before, he'll get over it, she thinks bitterly, people have gotten over me for less. Theron's no different.

She hopes.

THERON._THE_FURY.

Theron Shan doesn't get attached easily. Mistakes in the past hammered that home quick enough (a certain Cathar specifically), and still he stands looking at where she'd just been standing longingly as if, if he stares long enough she'll come back. The blonde Sith had taken over his thoughts in a way that shouldn't have been so distracting. He figured in the beginning she was only teasing and didn't actually think all that highly of him, as he'd learned from his dealings with Sith previously. The teasing manner she'd flirted with him on Manaan, the lingering touches after their mission on Rakata Prime. Lana had even had half a mind to tell him that the Wrath did talk about him in a complimentary manner. He'd laughed it off and they'd gone their separate ways after that.

But for some reason the two years in between last seeing her and now, Tri'ama has been unforgivingly on his mind. Caught himself about thinking how she spun through the air with her double sabers, the way her (now he knew they were grey when she wasn't pissed off at the entire galaxy) amber eyes glowed as she fought. He'd be lying if he said she wasn't a beautiful force of nature to be reckoned with, and for once he was glad a Sith was on his side and not against him.

Theron had never seen her in an environment outside of fighting before, but he was beginning to see her without her respirator more and more often. Those encounters tended to end up with a small kiss here or there, and he was taking notice of the scars that adorned her face. They weren't immediately obvious, but upon closer inspection, he could see there was a faded scar above her eyebrow, another on the corner of her left lip. One on her neck was a fading blue bruise, another just under her chin. It serves as a reminder that he's probably on egg shells with the woman, and that she is most literally one of the most dangerous people he knows. How he'd ended up with the Emperor's Wrath taking a less than professional interest in him, he wasn't sure. She'd even gotten redressed before he'd arrived, the half armor and battle boots traded in for what felt like a silky material against his fingertips, a laced front with a half skirt and eye-catching red leggings. It was sleeveless and a high collar, something that Theron wouldn't have imagined she'd ever wear. Not that it wasn't stunning on her, but the Wrath seemed more like a rough and tumble kind of woman than someone who'd dress up like she was attending a gala.

Left alone in the crew quarters now and taking in his surrounding, he's curious about this Malavai Quinn person. Maybe it's not his business, but the way Tri'ama's skin had paled at that holorecording and hurriedly left without even saying goodbye makes him think there's more to the story than he's been privy to. Given he never paid much attention to her company on Manaan, but he wonders if there was something he could've done. Not that he would've gotten involved in something personal between the two (it literally couldn't have been any further from being his business), and Tri'ama wasn't obligated to share either. He doesn't push this issue. People he'd been with before tended not to want to share with their one-night stand very calmly.

The next two days are rather uneventful, but welcome. He learns the Twi'lek (Vette) is an escape artist from her past (she doesn't elaborate, and Theron's not sure if he wants to know), and also one of Tri'ama's confidants alongside Lieutenant Pierce. At first he's not sure what to make of the Imperial soldier (his own upbringing effectively making him wary of anyone flying the Empire's flag), but the gruff man is surprisingly not plotting his downfall. How easily she relaxes and jokes around her current two companions is a nice change from the wound up woman he'd met on Rishi. Whatever emotional toll had happened with the Captain is gone from her, or as far as he can see. Under the guise of needing to fix things here and there in the cargo bay, near the hyperdrive, stars anywhere that Tri'ama could get him without garnering the attention of her companions he swears that these are the best two and a half days he's ever had with a woman. She's gentle, sometimes, luring him in with those surprisingly innocent grey eyes of hers and soft kisses, others he's careful to leave the collar up on his jacket. The skin bruised where she'd broken it rather easily, and for some reason she liked to run a finger over them she thought he didn't know she was there. It's hot, if he's being honest.

Tri'ama was different than some other women though, he'd get tantalizingly close to having his fingers run over any bare skin he could find, one hand sliding up her shirt before she chuckled darkly and forced his hand back out, a smug smirk on her face while she leans in to kiss him, loosely straddling him. Theron's sure she has her reasons for doing so, but he'd be lying if he said she wasn't frustrating in that regard. How close she is, how close she stays is not going to be easy to forget after Yavin. The way she caresses his face in her callused hands, how her accent becomes so pronounced when she whispers his name in the darkness of the cargo bay, the taste of something sweet on her lips. It's intoxicating, and he's not sure any woman in the galaxy has the right be this beautiful and forbidden.

The darkness of the Fury is enough to remind him that he isn't exactly among friends. (though he doesn't have the same reaction to the Talz twice, the fluffy murderer still sends a shiver down his spine, it didn't help Tri'ama told him he had acquired a stealth generator at some point too) There's no way that this is going to last, as much as he wants it to. If her rampage through Rishi didn't prove it, she's pure Sith. Not the pureblood kind, but she also has a certain aura about her. She had clashed hard with the Barsen'thor and had proven she could be ruthless and relentless no matter the circumstances. He had yet to see if she was an Imperial loyalist or just someone proficient with the dark side that ended up on that side of war. Her actions weren't easy to discern either, whether she was neutral or sadistic beneath her actions for justice.

Theron's curious about her. Her file had landed on his desk straight after their Manaan excursion by request of some higher up in the SIS, and it wasn't extremely informative (that was the point apparently, they thought he could fill more in for them). No one in the SIS was sure of a lot of things because of her reclusive manner on the battlefield, only that most turned up dead or missing after a violent meeting with her. She was a one women wrecking crew and had broke frontlines across the galaxy, winning quite a few battles for her faction. Tri'ama was a Darth, 23, and her file had read Amarillis-Quinn as her surname.

Now really thinking about it, he lies awake on the night of the second day wondering whether it had anything to do with the Captain. To say he was nosy was one thing, but he also wonders if that's what had her so nervous the first day, breathing hard and near tears. A passing thought is that she's still married to him and has taken Theron as a...mistress of sorts. He feels it wouldn't be outside what he knows Sith can do and will get away with, but he has a lot of questions he'd rather get answered before they land and he lets it seep into his work on Yavin. Hell, she's going to be on his mind the whole time anyways, might as well know where he stands now.

He slips out of the crew quarters, only Vette rolling over in her sleep being the evidence he'd left. The door soundlessly closes behind him, and luckily he finds Tri'ama laying against the lounge couches, holocom playing a soft song and datapad in her hands. She doesn't see him at first, enamored with whatever she's working on (he's still learning about their culture, but he was surprised Tri'ama did any of her own work, unlike others he'd met), but a mischeveous smile crosses her face as she puts it down, her eyes a blazing amber, lust clouding them over but some sadness beneath the red corneas, "What has you up at this time of night, Theron? Not me, I hope." she purrs.

"And if it is?" He asks, sliding in next to her. She leans against him, though a shaky sigh escapes her. From the sound alone and the muffled sniffle against her nightshirt, he doesn't have to be a genius to deduce she's not doing so well right now. Whatever tears there were she's already dried from her face as she turns to look at him. He doesn't go looking for evidence that she'd been upset or, but she's oddly aggressive today when she turns to kiss him. One hand in his hair, the other lying on his shoulder as she most literally smashes her lips on his with little regard for the person beneath her. At first he doesn't see anything unusual about it. It seemed that was just how Tri'ama was, aggressively taking what she wanted (and for the moment, that was Theron), until the teasing that often got his hands shoved away from goes unpunished. It's an oddity in itself, and though this is technically what he's been waiting for, but she isn't composed the way she is typically. As much she can nip at his bottom lip and make him want more than she's giving, her racing heart beneath his finger tips is concerning as he puts a hand on her bare waist.

His eyes linger to the game table turned workspace. She's beginning to tell he's distracted, and she gives him a pointed look, "You're distracted."

"A little." He answers, and she frowns but pulls herself off from his lap where she'd been seated previously. The best way to phrase this was outright, she'd made it clear she didn't like it when people beat around the bush with certain issues, but she was already disraught and making it worse probably wouldn't bode well for him. His eyes flicker to her datapad for a moment, and then a glinting gold ring next to it.

All prepared for Quinn's return, he supposes.

His eyes linger too long, he thinks, because Tri'ama won't meet his eyes anymore, "Tri'ama, are you married?"

Shock is the first to go through her facial expressions, before she glances at the ring and her eyes harden and glow a darker gold. Well Theron Shan, you screwed up the most dangerous romances you've ever been in. Close your eyes and it'll all be over soon.

He braces for something, anything. A slap to the face, a force choking, shouting maybe, but all she does is shut off the datapad with defeat written all over her face. She's angry, but not with him. Tri'ama twiddles the ring in between her fingers, before using the Force to levitate it above her palm. Theron's sure her mind is running like a freight train, but he doesn't question her. It takes a while, she considers the ring as it floats, and she lays back into him. Theron chastises himself for a moment, he wasn't supposed to get involved in her personal life that much, but here he was at an ungodly hour of the morning asking about her marital status, "Just, forget I asked."

"No. The easy answer is no. Legally, it's complicated." Tri'ama answers quietly, the anger flowing out of her as the bottomless silver eyes return, "I was married to Quinn shortly before I met you. I wished to be divorced, but I was too tied up in other matters to really pay any attention to the process. It was denied for some odd reason. I sent him away for as long as I could, but he's due back tomorrow."

"And you don't know what to do with him." Theron finishes. She makes a noise in confirmation.

"I apologize for keeping you in the dark about this. I didn't think he'd return so abruptly and--" she gestures to him as she runs a hand through her hair, "I don't know what we are, Theron. If I chose to be...I don't know, your girlfriend in the long run, it wouldn't end well for either of us. You'd probably lose your job, I'd be scorned and lose my seat. I can't say I don't have feelings for you, but maybe we should slow down and brace ourselves for Yavin."

"What-what is that supposed to mean?" He's thought of this already, but the way she chokes up over girlfriend isn't reassuring, "I knew we weren't dating, but what does this mean?"

Tri'ama makes to leave, but not before pressing a lingering kiss to his lips, "It means I think this should end before we make it harder on ourselves to leave."

He isn't even thinking rationally at this very moment, holding one of her hands in his, "Tri'ama wait. Is this because the Captain is coming back tomorrow? I can leave earlier if that's the case."

Her eyes are misted over with unshed tears as she grips the ring in her fist, "Maybe, maybe not. Theron, there's no other connection other than that we find each other attractive. I barely know anything about you, I couldn't get in contact with you for two years. Once Yavin is finished, I'll never see you again. All this--" she's getting frustrated, maybe with herself or maybe with the situation, "I wish I could have longterm. But, the last time I got attached too quickly I was married to a traitor for years. Make this easy on yourself, and enjoy the rest of the night."

They've trailed to her quarters, and she steps inside, "Tri'ama."

"Theron." She hesitates, possibly considering her previous statement before kissing him hard. He can't even breathe, and then it's over and the door closes behind her. He doesn't even know why he's upset, she's right. In every single way she's right. He just hadn't wanted to consider it, say it out loud and admit it, and her emotions are amplified by her ex-husband's return the day after. There's a loud crash behind the door, and he winces before heading back to the crew quarters. Both companions are still in a blissful sleep, but Theron can't get a wink of it the rest of the night. He eventually pulls out his datapad and starts working instead. Keeping busy would keep his mind off of her.

When Vette and Pierce begin to stir a few hours later, he finds he hasn't slept.

TRI'AMA._NAR_SHADDAA.

"Jaesa. You're looking well." Tri'ama is trying to distract herself from the fiasco that had been the night prior. Theron is still looking like someone kicked his akk puppy, and she's steeling herself into being a Darth again. Back in her more Imperial styled armor than what she had been in the last few days, it feels...off. Her respirator has been snapped back into place, and thankfully it makes her feel safer instead of constricted, "Welcome back to the Fury, apprentice."

"It is good to be back." Jaesa deadpans as she bows respectfully, "The missions went well."

"I'm sure they did, with you at the head. Good work." She praises the young woman. Jaesa has the inkling of a smile on her face, but quickly drops the smile when they both hear boots on the ground and Vette sucks in an apprehensive breath, "The Captain managed to get your schedule from me. I apologize."

"It isn't your fault, Jaesa. I blame you for nothing." Tri'ama stands up straighter, facing Quinn for the first time in nearly four years. She's trembling, but hides her hands behind her back, "Captain."

"My lord." He bows, a bag by his feet. She keeps her eyes trained on him, as if that will soothe her anxiety. It doesn't, her breath only quickening as his eyes land on her's. One of the first thing she noticed about him was his eyes, how they were so similar to her own.

Her neck is covered, her hands are covered. No skin can be seen except for her face, and even that is hidden beneath a cowl. He can't hurt her, "I am grateful you've brought me back into your service."

"Of course, Captain." Detour, detour, detour. She hopes the divorce papers went through and so did the reassignment. To Darth Aghdani specifically, hopefully the pureblood wouldn't call her in a fit of rage wondering why the man was annoying her. If she's lucky, she'll get him killed on a backwater planet somewhere, or stab him outright for his uptight behavior. If she's not so lucky, she'll take a liking to him and the cycle will start again, "Welcome back."

All Tri'ama wants is him gone. If things work out, Pierce will take him back to Dromound Kaas under false pretenses and Vette will join her on Yavin. Then, smooth sailing from there. Out of sight, out of mind.

Two days.

It will only be two days. She can do this.

Can she?

You hurt Theron because of this, one annoying thought says, He probably hates you now.

"Darth Amarillis." Theron's clipped voice startles her out of her thoughts he steps out of the Fury. There's a sad aura about him, one of melancholy and possibly longing. However that's as much as she gets because he's closed himself off again. He looks more tired than he did the night before, and as much as she wants to run up and hug him, she stays firmly planted as he comes up to her, "I'll be taking my leave."

"I will see you again on Yavin, Agent Shan." Theron's name nearly slips out before she corrects herself. He'd never called her Darth Amarillis before, he'd always referred to her as simply 'the Wrath', and most recently her first name. But if he wants to play professional SIS agent and act like they aren't friendly (Tri'ama's burned that bridge and she didn't even explain herself fully to him, instead throwing a crate across her room in anger and sadness. Her room's a mess right now and she has no intention of cleaning it), she can do that too, "Safe travels, agent."

He doesn't even respond to her farewell, leaving the hangar and taking the lift down at a brisk pace. Quinn raises an eyebrow as he leaves in a perfect Imperial accent that she's come to hate coming from him, "If I may ask, a friend of yours, my lord?"

"An ally in our fight with the Revanites, yes." She responds, watching Theron leave. Hopefully, her face doesn't betray her emotions, "You and Jaesa can re-organize yourselves on the Fury, I'm sure Toovee will be ecstatic to see you again."

"Of course, my lord." He and Jaesa head inside (the latter seems emotionless about it, but is radiating annoyance in her force signature), and Vette narrows her eyes at the Imperial Captain's retreating form before coming closer to her.

"You could've just refused that jerk back onto your crew, Tri'ama." Vette says, visibly frustrated as she throws up her hands in the air, "I don't want to deal with him for however long you're going to drag this out for." Pierce nods, a grunt of agreement from him, "We should've just taken Theron in instead." she adds, "Least he had a sense of humor".

"I'm sorry Vette. I would make him go if I could." She can feel the tears welling up in her eyes and her voice shakes as she apologizes, but hopes the cowl shadows enough of her face so that the two remaining companions can't see them, "He'll be out of our hair soon. But for now, I'll have to put my prejudices behind me and get to Yavin before people question where I am and begin the fight against Revan, regardless of my personal opinions."

Vette and Pierce are silent for a moment, before Vette hugs her outright and Pierce puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, "We're here for you, and I know Jaesa would be down her too if she could be."

For once, Tri'ama hugs back tighter than she ever has. It hurts, all she wants is to run away to the Outer Rim, blazes anywhere else but here and show Theron just how much she appreciates him away from all the stereotypes and racism and prejudice that the Empire and Republic have for each other. Be away from Quinn, just take Jaesa, Pierce, Vette and Broonmark with them. Still, she's not sure she ever wants commitment again, the ring heavy in her pocket, but she wants just one more night with the SIS agent. One more night to explain everything, one more night to press her body against his, feel his warm and nimble fingers against her again.

And now he's gone.

THERON._JAKARRO'S_SHIP.

"Have fun with your Sith friend?" Jakarro asks as Theron boards the freighter ship with an ugly groan at the question, "You were eager to be with her. Hope you had fun."

"Don't push the questions, Jakarro." He nearly growls at the Wookie in frustration. Jakarro doesn't press for more answers as Theron stalks down the hall to the crew quarters. They were empty, as always, and it's enough that he sinks onto one of the bunks. He's nearly tearing his hair out in anger. The blonde Sith had basically told him she didn't want him anymore. He has half a mind to think she lied to him and really is still married to Quinn. If she only wanted him as a plaything, he's rather offended.

But it's not like he didn't go into this thinking it'd be a one night stand and nothing more. Why did he still think of her like she was his then?

Because you're infatuated with her, you just don't want to admit it in fear of committing to a Sith lord, he thinks. Stars, what would his father think if he had taken her as his--girlfriend no less?

Does he even care what he thinks?

He spends the rest of the trip to Yavin busying himself with work to get her dismissal off his mind. According to the reports, the Imperials were bringing in a certain Darth Nox alongside the Wrath, and the Barsen'thor would return with her own crew in tow. All force users. Nox wasn't much better than the Wrath in terms of her record with the Republic, but at least she could foot the bill with some serious damage if push came to shove and her reputation within the Empire respectively would help with the coalition. It would've been nice to have another Jedi, but he can't complain.

He's going to miss her, but enough work and some alcohol should be just would the doctor ordered to keep his longing for the Sith under wraps. Yavin would be one of the biggest battles he'd faced in years, and he didn't intend to fail.

He hopes.

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authoranna · 7 years

Text

Mending the Mind, chapter four

I have another update! Also, I finally went and saw Rogue One today so I’m having some major Cassian feels rn. I have so much Cassian fic bookmarked rn it’s insane. So while I’m reading that like a banshee the next day-ish I won’t be writing. But I literally just started chapter 7 so it shouldn’t be too bad. As I finish a chapter I’ll post another one.

Anyways, here’s some sassy Carth and Revan. Also my first attempt at writing force sensing stuff. Ooo-wee-oooooh yeah. Lemme know what you guys think please.

(wattpad)

Chapter Four

“Hey. Maybe tomorrow we should go to the store and buy some stuff; you know, food, some clothes so we don't look like vagabonds. I mean, your clothes are mostly fine, but I'm just slightly covered in random scorch marks and tears. It might be a bit of an issue at some point.” Lis shrugged.

“Well, can't say I'd be opposed to the idea of buying some food so we aren't always frequenting that foodstand. But I don't think we have a conservator.”

“Canned soup is always cheap and requires only a shelf to store. I thought I saw a gas pipe in the apartment.”

“If you turn on the gas, the entire room would fill with it and we'd blow up half the building,” Carth explained, shaking his head. He pressed the outer door button for the apartment complex, waving Lis in first.

“I can fix that, you know. Put on a control valve and a nozzle and it'll be perfectly safe. As long as you have a zippo, we have a way to heat soup.” Lis nodded at an alien as she and Carth stepped onto the elevator, waiting until he disembarked two floors later to continue speaking. “One of the perks of being a scout is you learn how to improvise.”

“And where are you going to get those items at?” Carth held the turbolift door as Lis stepped off, following her to their apartment.

“From Kebla Yurt's Emporium, of course. Probably be able to get all the stuff we need there. Do you have to walk so slow, Carth? I'd like to get my side wrapped before breakfast.” She stopped infront of the apartment door, waiting for Carth to unlock it once he reached it.

“For being hurt, you sure do manage to walk quick,” he mumbled.

“Maybe you're just getting old,” she winked. As soon as the door was unlocked she walked through, pulling her vest off quickly. The shirt took another moment to pull up.

“If I'm old, what does that make you? We've got to be around the same age, if we enlisted around the same time. Where does your rib hurt?” Carth opened the medpac, pulling out more kolto.

“On the right, a bit closer to the spine than the breastbone. You see the giant bruise that I'm sure is forming?”

“Yeah. Here, hold this kolto on there while I find some bandages.”

Lis hissed as the kolto patch pressed onto the bruise, closing her eyes for a second.

“I thought you read my profile, fly-boy. I enlisted when the Mandalorians came, in '64; I was 28.”

“So you're two years younger than me. You spend most of the time in space, or pounding ground? Here, hold this end.” Carth handed her one end of a gauze wrap.

“Damned if I remember. You're talking to someone who can't remember more than three months ago, remember? Honestly, I could be 50 for all I know; I'm just going by what someone told me. I don't feel 35 though.”

“You will in the morning, based on the beatings you've gotten lately. Try not to fight tomorrow, okay? We're taking it easy tomorrow; some shopping, a party with some Sith, and some more Pazaak if you didn't chase everyone away.”

“I might be able to get one more day of Pazaak in before they stop wanting to play with me. So maybe another thousand creds will materialize by dinner tomorrow. Did you wrap the gauze tight enough? I can barely breathe. Ow.” Lis pulled her shirt back down, the vest cast aside in favor of walking to the refresher. The sound of running water filled the small apartment for a minute, followed by Lis groaning at the hazy reflection.

“That's the cracked rib's fault, not mine. Do you want mystery meat meal one, two, or four?” Carth asked when Lis reappeared.

“What happened to mystery meat meal three?” Lis draped the vest over her shoulders.

“Meat number three is no longer available apparently. The quarantine has shut off all trade routes for the time being. I don't imagine there could be nerf on Taris.”

“Oh, is that what that was? I thought for sure it was more gizka. Come on, let's go get food. I think mystery meat four sounds good right about now.”

}{ }{ }{ }{ }{ }{ }{ }{

Lis picked at the gauze on her arm absently as she waited for the turbolift to reach its destination. Carth had sent her to buy the morning meal with her Pazaak winnings, and she wasn't happy about the lack of food in the shoddy apartment.

We should've gone shopping last night to get at least some food. I mean, who knows how long we'll be stuck on this planet. But we're going after breakfast, so I guess there's no point in complaining about it. But if there was something besides griddlebread to eat it might be nice. Is there even such a thing as breakfast soup? Maybe egg soup. But we'd have to have a pot of some sort to make that. Maybe Kebla's has one.

Lis stepped out of the lift, blinking against the early morning sun. It was just peaking out from between two starscrapers, mist beginning to burn off in the heat.

“Good morning, Isaak. What's the morning special?” She asked, leaning on the small counter.

“Griddlebread, with a side of apple syrup. We also just got caf back in stock; the quarantine has stopped imports, but our merchant had some warehoused. You want some?”

“Would I ever. The last time I had caf it was instant; the last planet we'd stopped on didn't have any of the real stuff for us to buy. We weren't happy about that at all.” She accepted the flimsicup gratefully, smiling at the old man as he started preparing the griddlebread.

A few minutes later Isaak handed her the two plates of food and a small folding box, two cafs nestled in the corners amongst creams and sweetpacks. Lis thanked him before heading into the apartment building.

As the turbolift went up, a sinking feeling unrelated to the lift arose in Lis' stomach. She couldn't place the feeling, but something felt... off, almost wrong.

Am I forgetting something? I know it's early in the morning, but I only had one task to do, so I couldn't have forgotten my one task since I actually did it. My memory's bad, but it's not that bad. What's the date today? Maybe it's someone's birthday? What am I forgetting?

She almost dropped the packages in her hands as the turbolift doors slid open, revealing a Sith sergeant and two droids in the corridor. Two Duros stood in the hall as well, facing the patrol. Lis stepped off the turbolift, shrinking into an alcove, unseen by the enemy.

“We're looking for Republic fugitives. Seen any around?” The Sith in charge asked of his non-human audience.

“No, no one unusual has been here since the quarantine. There was a patrol a couple of days ago,” one Duro said.

At that moment, Carth stepped out of the apartment, unawares as to the patrol's presence. He froze at the sight of the Sith, who stared back at him for a second. Finally, the Sith shouted, “a human in this dive?! He's a Republic fugitive! Get him!”

Carth drew his blaster, beginning to shoot at the patrol droids. Lis put the food down on a shelf, her hand going to the long blade at her side. She rushed out of the alcove, stabbing the sergeant through the torso. Carth had already knocked out one of the droids, and an unhurried final blasterbolt finished the second one off. The Duros had stood frozen in shock during the encounter.

“We will take care of the bodies,” the Duro who hadn't spoken before said. “Thank you for fighting with us.”

“Sure, no problem, man,” Lis replied, sarcasm dripping as she returned her sword to its sheath. She shared a glance with Carth across the corridor, her brows raising in shared joke.

She went back to the alcove, fetching the still-warm food from the table. One flimsicup of caf was knocked over, the contents spilling onto the floor to mix with the dust and grime.

Well, I suppose it's a good thing I already had my caf. Maybe later I'll buy me another one.

Lis walked into the apartment, almost running into Carth as he stood in the doorway. He took the cup of caf quickly, inhaling the scent before beginning to drink.

“You know this is the worst caf I’ve ever had?” Carth asked after a minute. “But it sure tastes good right about now.”

“It might be a good idea for us to find another hideout soon, if there’s going to be more patrols coming around. What happened to the first one that came here?” Lis set the foodboxes down, digging in her vest pockets for the forks she’d stashed.

“They left without finding us. We probably wouldn’t be able to find another place to stay up here in the Upper City; it’s full of snobs and we don’t have the money. Our best bet is to continue to lay low, and deal with any patrols when they come. Unless you have a few extra thousand creds lying around we could use for rent.”

“Unfortunately pazaak doesn’t pay as well as that. Now if you were an admiral, you’d probably have the money for it; but you wouldn’t be able to access it on this planet without alerting the Sith that you’re here,” Lis frowned. “I must have dropped the forks in the corridor during the encounter; frack. I’ll go see if they’re still out there.”

She turned around, triggering the door sensor. She stopped when she heard Carth laughing, however.

“What’s so funny?”

“They’re in your hair; in the braid. They look like antenna,” he managed to get out between bursts of laughter. “I wish you could see them.”

Lis reached back, patting the back of her head. She yanked the forks out of her braid, wiping them on her pants leg before handing one to Carth.

“I don’t remember putting them there; oh well. Eat, we’ve a long day of shopping and party crashing to do.”

“It must have been since you haven’t had caf yet. And it’s not party-crashing since you were invited. Me on the other hand -- that might be party crashing.” Carth started spreading the syrup on his griddlebread, rolling it up to form a tube before eating.

“I already drank my caf; I was gonna have a second one, but it spilled somehow in the hall.”

“And here I thought it was the fight that had you looking so bright and peppy.”

Silence reigned for the time being as both Republics ate quickly, slurping the last of the syrup up for the added energy.

“Yun is probably gonna be so pissed when I show up with you trailing along. Maybe if we show up late he and everyone else will have already started drinking.”

“I sure hope our plan works; otherwise we’re gonna be in a giant mess.” Carth threw his empty flimsicup into the trash bin, leaning back in the chair so he was balanced on the back two legs.

“You’re the one who thought stealing Yun’s armour was a good idea; I’m just following your command, boss-man. Now come on; let’s go shopping.” Lis stood up, running a hand through her hair.

“Many a man heard that phrase before his wallet went dry,” Carth mumbled.

}{ }{ }{ }{ }{ }{ }{ }{

“Hi Kebla. You wouldn’t happen to know of anywhere we could buy groceries, would you? Or canned soup, even? And clothes.” Lis walked into the Equipment Emporium, beginning to survey the offerings.

“You’d have to take an air-taxi to the next skyway over, but there’s one just on the other side of the Sith base. A man from the Middle City got a permit to put one there, and he’s raked in the creds from it; the richy-rich of up here can pay exorbitant amounts for food and things. If you mention my name, though, he’ll give you the employee discount. And by employee discount, I mean the actual price of the stuff. It’s called Fronk’s; you can’t miss it. See anything you like in here?”

“Yeah, I’ll take these two things. Oh, and this too.” Lis set down the nozzle and valve she’d mentioned to Carth the night before, as well as a small handsaw.

“20 creds. Whatever you’re doing with these, be careful. Don’t do anything too dangerous,” Kebla replied.

“Oh, I’m just fixing my stove; no worries. I’ve done this before countless times.” Lis smiled, handing over the credit chit. “Thanks for the directions.”

“You’ve done it countless times, huh?” Carth whispered once they were back on the skyway.

“I can’t remember doing it, but I know how to do it; I can’t count it, so it’s countless.” Lis shrugged, not looking back at Carth. “Let’s go to Fronk’s before I engineer the stove; I’d rather have something to actually test it on other than my hair.”

#mending the mind #kotor fics #star wars fics #kotor #star wars #my fics

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