Well! That's a very good question, to which I can only say 'no idea'. I was considering a 5and1 for my Sith Sorc when this idea to write something about Mirialan markings got stuck in my brain. I logged into Tial, stared at her face, started doodling and the next thing I knew I had a diagram of her tattoos and what each one represented/what the shapes were meant to represent. The story just kinda...spiraled out from there.

I loved it. You did a great job with Torian and Apoc was more than interesting enough as a character to keep me tuned in. I liked the elements of Manda culture you brought in to the story, both with their language and traditions, and the thought/research that clearly went into it. I enjoy stories that give the characters background and you did yours very well, making me feel for Apoc but also feel for her brother, insane and twisted though he was, and getting your reader to sympathize with the 'villain' is no mean feat.

OR: Five times tattoos made Corso look at Tial different, and one time Tial reconsidered Corso. .1. Corso stood in the small front room of the shop, eying the various decorations hanging on the wall. He saw a Mirial flag pinned above the counter and a collection of what looked like antique stone pots lining a series of shelves along the wall. There were shimmering holos of mountains and expanses of desert that he was willing to bet were shots of Mirial, if the area they were in was anything to go by. He and Tial had just finished up in Black Sun Territory and were considering turning in the night verse continuing trying to close in on Skavak verse going to have a few drinks (Corso's vote was for that option), when she'd gotten a holo from her sister, Leta. Tial had walked away from him to take the call, leaving him to trade dirty looks with Darmas, then declared they were done dealing with Skavak for the evening. She'd said good bye to Darmas then hauled Corso over to the nearest taxi. They hadn't gone back to their room, or even that district, but had instead gone to what Tial called the Miri district, obviously so named because it was densely populated with Mirialans. The streets had been lined with green and yellow faces and he had stuck out like a sore human thumb. Wandering the streets with her while she looked of this shop had been...uncomfortable, as he'd felt like everyone was staring, wondering what he dared to do in Their District. He wondered if that was how Tial felt most of the time, surrounded by humans. They'd entered the small shop and found Sergeant Aric Jorgan sitting in a chair in the front room, looking amazingly uncomfortable. He'd nodded an acknowledgment to them before informing Tial that her sister was in the back waiting for her. “Do you know if Tymar is coming?” Tial had asked, eyes gleaming. The only time he ever saw her look that excited was when she was detailing the ways she would torture Skavak when she got her hands on him. Aric shook his head. “He said he was too busy with his master.” “Too busy?” Tial's eyes narrowed for a moment, full lips twisting into a scowl. “****ing useless.” She stormed past the curtain into the back, clearly angry. Corso could hear voices, Tial's sharp with her anger and Leta's a soft rumble, but couldn't make out the words. Then silence that stretched out for what felt like forever. Corso eventually found himself in the chair next to Aric, staring blankly at the wall. “You should have brought something to do. From what I understand Mirialan markings can take a bit of time.” Aric didn't look up form his holopad when he spoke and his voice was toneless in a way that was, actually, kind of unnerving. “Is that what's going on?” Corso asked, frowning slightly. Had Tial rushed him down here so she could hold Leta's hand while she got a new tattoo? Aric's eyebrow went up in a way that made Corso think he was being judged. The fact the Cathar couldn't be bothered to look up to address him added to the feeling. “Mirialan tattoos are symbols of a life well lived. They begin receiving them when they reach 'maturity' and then get new ones with every great accomplishment. Having a witness for the additions is important because it legitimizes the accomplishment.” Corso hadn't known any of that, of course. He had thought it strange that the few Mirialans he'd seen all shared a taste for facial art but he'd never really put that much thought into it. It did make him consider Tial and the marks she wore across her cheeks and down the center of her forehead. Each was a bar pattern, formed of two rows of black triangles carefully fitted together. He wondered what they all meant. He knew she'd had an interesting life before landing on Ord Mantell but he'd never considered that she wore the evidence of that life on her face. .2. Taris was probably the worst place Tial had ever had the misfortune of visiting. As if being on the utterly depressing dustball wasn't bad enough by day, but being out at night was a totally different ordeal. Even if she ignored the pirates, the Imperials, and the natural wildlife that still left the issue of Rakghouls. They roamed Taris freely, acting with almost human-like intelligence. She'd heard stories of how they herded men, surrounding them and slowly backing them into areas they couldn't escape from before striking. They tore their luckier victims apart, eating even the bones and leaving nothing but ribbons of flesh behind. The less lucky ones were left alive, infected with the plague, and eventually becoming Rakghouls themselves. The very thought made her flesh crawl in disgust. Tial couldn't even begin to imagine how Corso thought she was going to fall asleep out here, in the middle of nowhere, where groups of those monsters could be lurking just out of sight. She'd wanted to head back to the nearest outpost but they were far out and, as Corso with his stupid logic had pointed out, it would take hours to get anywhere. Corso had started a fire and started chattering about camping out with cousins and friends in his youth, seemingly unaware of the fact that they're weren't in some field on Ord, but on a grassy patch of grass on a vaguely toxic planet that was overrun with man eating monsters. She'd prefer to be in a busy city dealing with gangsters any day. She said as much, tone more snappish than she would have liked. Corso just smiled at her, cheerfully ignoring her anger. He set the camp up for the night, reminding her that the tent was built to withstand the claws of animals. She just pouted. “Captain.” Corso finally finished and came to stand in front of her, smirk far too amused for her liking. She let out a quiet hmph and looked away from him. He sighed and crouched down to her level. “I wouldn't let anything happen to you Captain.” Tial narrowed her eyes, hating him in that moment more than she'd thought was possible. She hated a lot of things about Corso, actually. She hated how attracted she was to him, she hated how he was always able to break her out of a bad mood, she hated how he always made sense and never let her do anything dangerous unless he got to walk into it first. She hated how he touched her and the way he confessed to wanting to be with her when he got drunk but refused her when sober. She hated that he said he wanted to take care of her and, worst of all, meant it. He must have sensed that he'd won their little 'argument' because he flopped next to her on the ground. The fire cast strange twisting shadows on his face but he seemed at ease, as if they weren't likely in unimaginable danger. “So, farm boy, what we do now?” “Well,” He drew the word out with that drawl of his and Tial's stomach clenched. Hatehatehatehate. “S'pose this is the part where we tell stories.” She crossed her arms over her chest, fully aware of how childish she probably looked. “I don't know any stories.” Corso reached for her and she didn't flinch away, a marvel in and of itself. Instead she sat still, stiffening up more than she would have liked, as calloused fingers brushed over her face. He lingered over her markings then moved his hand to the other cheek, thumb brushing over the tattoos there. She felt her face growing hot but told herself it was the fire. “What do these mean?” Tial swallowed thickly but didn't try to end the contact. She tried to focus her brain on the question (anything except how warm Corso's hand was!). “What do you know about Mirialan markings?” “Not much.” He admitted. “Just that you add ones when you do something big.” “Sort of.” She reached up, pushing her the dark red hair bangs from her forehead. Her hair was growing long and it was impossible to deal with at the moment, so it fell in one single braid down her back. She touched the two triangles right below her hairline. “These were the first ones, when I turned fourteen. My father and Tymar both came back from Tython for the ceremony and to give their blessing to my 'ascendance into womanhood'.” Tial frowned at the memory. Tymar had left for the academy the year before, after this own fourteenth birthday, and had come back a completely different person. So stoic and withdrawn in his plain brown robes. It had hurt her to have her big brother so distant from her after so much time apart. It hadn't gotten any better when Rynard, one of Tymar's former friends who'd become interested in Tial when Ty had left for the temple, had come by to witness. He'd made some joke along the lines of 'too bad you won't be around to keep all the boys away' and had earned himself a black eye for his trouble. Tymar had been sent to his room until he could 'learn to control his emotions' and would remain there for the rest of his trip. That had pretty much ruined the day for her. Leta had stood at her side, holding her hand as the woman they'd booked to do the markings began her work. The first ones were always the most detailed and Tial's had been no exception. Family markings were passed down from the mother's side and for her that meant double triangles. The left one had small circles at each peak, meant to represent the all-encompassing nature of the force (Years later she would hate that element but, sadly, her mother's family had been Force worshiping traditionalists) The right triangle had a small oval lying against the right side, the marking of her father's family. Without Tymar the whole ritual had felt strangely hollow. Growing up Tymar had been their father's child and Leta had been their mother's shadow, but Tial had never related to either of her parents. Instead she'd worshiped her older brother, thinking him the center of the universe. Instead of feeling like an adult when the marks were in place she'd just been sore and disappointed. It would take years for her to learn that there was no magical switch, or tattoo, to adulthood. She wasn't sure why she kept up with the stupid tradition but she did. After the first set she'd followed the pattern of her mother's family, adding a pair of triangles to her forehead and under each eye with each 'major' event, thought she hadn't had anyone witness them. She trailed off, smiling wanly. Corso was looking at her in the way some people regarded a particularly difficult math problem. “It's not a very good story.” Tial muttered by way of apology. Corso's answering smile was so sincere it hurt. “I liked it.” .3. Corso was surprised when Tial sent him a message saying to meet her at the tattoo shop in the Miril District but he went anyway. He figured that, with everything that had happened recently hanging over them like a dark cloud he could really afford to deny her requests. Skavak was dead and Tial's name was swiftly gaining notoriety with all the wrong people. She'd had to fend off two Bounty Hunter attacks in as many weeks and it was making her edgy. Worse than all that Leta had called to tell them that Elara had been hurt during of their missions and the knowledge that her sister's girlfriend was in bad shape really seemed to be dragging Tial's mood down. There was also the small matter of passionate drunken sex that they were steadfastly ignoring, and had been ignoring for some time. Ignoring as best they could anyway, which wasn't all that well when you got down to it. Tial was jumpy around him and anytime they touched or even came in close proximity she became like a wild animal, falling over herself to skitter away. It was his fault. Too much to drink, too much want, and a little bit of jealousy had potentially ruined their friendship; the thought made him physically ill. Tial was waiting in the front room of the shop, talking to an older Mirialan man. She flashed him a shaky smile when he came in. “Thanks for coming kid.” Her hair was loose, a waterfall of red ripples. He never saw it like that anymore, not since that night, and his fingers itched with the urge to reach out and bury his fingers into it. “I wanted to add more, in celebration of ending Skavak. I...well, I couldn't have done it without you so I wanted you here.” He nodded, more honored than he could have communicated at the moment. She flashed him a nervous smile then, with a nod at the man behind the counter, headed back behind the curtain. Corso made to follow but the man held up a hand to stop him just short of the curtain. “I rarely let humans back there.” He was staring at Corso with deathly serious blue eyes. “Only when they're getting the markings of marriage or intent.” Corso knew about the Markings of Intent. After Taris he'd spent some time on the holonet, learning more about Tial's people. The Mirialan were a matriarchal society and so most things were passed down from the mother's family. When a man intended to marry a woman in their culture he was basically becoming part of her family and leaving his own behind, so he'd get the woman's markings on his hands or inner wrist. Corso frowned slightly. “Does that mean you'll only let me in if I let you tattoo me too?” “And face her wrath?” The man actually laughed. “She was very insistent. Just something for you to consider, young man.” “I'll do that.” .4. Corso boarded the Aditi, unease soothed a bit by being back on the ship he'd come to think of as home. He wasn't sure when Tial's ship had become home to him but that was exactly what it was. It was one of the few dependable things he had now and even with the sometimes cramped conditions he couldn't think of anywhere else he'd want to lay his head at night. He could hear Risha, Tial, and Spar speaking in the engine room and headed in that direction, needing his captain to see what he'd been up to. He knew the woman was in a bad mood, a state that was becoming common these days, because of a conversation she'd had with Risha earlier. The would-be-queen had suggested that, since Tial and Corso now had a huge bounty on their heads that was attracting every two-bit Bounty Hunter with a blaster to their doorstep, that they consider a change in appearance. As it turned out Mirialans with dark red hair were an anomaly and it had become something of an identifying mark for Tial, as had her markings. Descriptions of the two of them were all over, though actual video or pictures of them weren't. Tial had been furious, cursing Rogun the Butcher and Skavak, claiming she wished she could bring the useless pile of Hutt crap back so she could kill him again. Spar had interjected here that vanity had lead many people to their grave and that Tial should consider Risha's suggestion. Tial had, true to form, just yelled more before stomping off to her quarters. Corso had slipped out here, knowing that Tial would need time to let her rage subside. He could probably get through to her if he was so inclined (and was the only person who could when she was good and angry.) but sometimes it was better to let her work it through alone. Besides they were docked on Nar Shaddaa and he was pretty sure he could find a way to show his support for Tial down there. He stopped in the doorway of the engine room, brow furrowing. Tial had her back to him, talking to the other two woman about the next planet they would be visiting, but her hair was now shorter, done in a prim looking bun, and colored an inky black. He couldn't help but feel a flash of longing for the long red locks he'd gotten so used to winding around his fingers when no one else was around to see. Spar noticed him first, nodding in his direction. “Riggs. We weren't sure if something had happened to you or not.” “Nah, just went out for some air.” Corso said, watching the way Tial's shoulder stiffened at the sound of his voice. “Looks like I missed something.” “Just your captain coming to her senses.” Risha said loftily. Sometimes Corso really wished Tial had just airlocked the woman back when they'd first met her, fortune and notoriety be damned. “Right Tia?” Tial sighed then made a rude gesture at Risha while turning to face him. He couldn't stop the noise of surprise from escaping his lips. Her face was a smooth green, unmarked by the tattoos that told the story of her life. She looked strange and...well, more naked than he'd ever seen her. Also miserable. Her lips were pressed together tightly, her deep purple eyes were downcast, and her left hand was clenched into a fist. “Well? What do you think.” Tial muttered, eyes darting up to look at him. Corso looked past her to see Risha and Spar looking at him, one expectantly and the other with a careful mask of indifference. Back to Tial, who seemed suddenly smaller than she normally did. He wanted to reach out and pull her close; partially to comfort her and partially to be sure that she was the same person. He was in full armor though, not wanting to be caught off guard on his trip. He couldn't have this conversation looking like this. “Can we talk in your room Captain?” She nodded tightly then moved around him, careful to not make contact, then headed down to her quarters. He followed, resolving to do something to make Risha and Spar hate their lives later. He found Tial sitting in the middle of her bed (their bed?) starring at one of the walls intently. She didn't say anything, or even look at him, as he shed his armor down to the protective tunic and pants underneath then crawled into the bed. He sat behind her, pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her small frame. She seemed to become undone, all tension leaving her body as she sank into him, fitting her head under his chin and sighing. “Your markings-” “It's makeup.” Tial said, voice clipped. He was oddly relived by that. He touched her hair, finding the tie keeping the bun in place, and tugging it free. Her hair felt the same, thick and soft, though it only fell to just above her shoulder now. “It's going to take me forever to grow it back out.” He chuckled. “I can relate.” “Huh?” She twisted around, looking at him for the first time, and her mouth fell open. She moved fast, hands on his head and she crowded herself even closer. He laughed in spite of himself; her wide-eyed expression of shock was too absurd to not laugh at. “Corso. You. Hair.” What she was trying to say was that he'd gone out and gotten rid of his dreads. His hair was now a close cropped fuzz. Tial's fingers moved over his scalp for a moment longer then she moved her face closer to his, until they were nose to nose. “You didn't have to do this.” Corso swiped a finger over her face, cringing at the thick green gunk he came away with. He could now make out the shadow of a black triangle. “I hate it.” She kissed him softly, a change from the usual frantic passion she displayed. .5. Elara and Leta's wedding was a small, but lively affair. Even Jorgan managed to shed some of his stiffness for the occasion, showing up out of uniform and having a entire two drinks after, which according to Leta was something of a minor miracle. Others, people affected by Havoc Squad, had come and gone through out the day, wishing the couple well. Now, with the sun down and a slight chill beginning to creep over the outdoor pavilion the event was winding down, with only the assembled crews of the Aditi, Chaos, and Yuga still present, aside from the band. The normally reserved Dorne had been dragged out for another dance with her new bride and though the blond human had fussed and moaned about it getting late she was still smiling brightly. Tial had allowed Theran to coax her out, gracing Corso with a look that said, very plainly, 'No violence' before heading out. As it turned out the doctor was, while under the careful watch of Corso and Tial's older brother, a perfect gentleman. At least from what they could see; considering how loudly Tial was laughing he was probably saying something that would offend most people. Tymar just shook his head. “If I didn't know for a fact that Holiday has him wrapped around her fingers I might be concerned.” Corso frowned, thinking about the holographic woman who'd been hovering at Theran's side most of the night, not sure if the Jedi was implying what he seemed to be. A shrug from Tymar told him that it was exactly what he thought. “I...see.” “Not that I think Tial would ever do anything like that to you.” Tymar added lightly, but his eyes were narrowed seriously. Corso was immediately suspicious of the redhead. He liked the Jedi these days, now that Tymar had let go of a lot of the idealism and stiffness he'd exuded when they'd first met. He considered him a friend, a good friend even. He was always willing to hear Corso out and offer his thoughts without judgment, even when it came to Tial and Corso tried to do the same. “And you wouldn't do anything to hurt my little sister, would you?” Wisps of golden light drifted between Tymar's fingers, a casual display of the power he wielded. Corso wasn't impressed, or at least not as impressed as he would have been once. “Of course not.” He hesitated for a moment, eyes finding Tial on the dance floor. She was smiling, eyes bright, as she whirled around the floor with Elara, having traded partners with her sister at some point. “I love Tial.” Tymar's expression softened. “I know. I...look, I think of you like a little brother, but not really because you're sleeping with my sister.” Corso laughed and the Jedi offered up a small amused smile. “Which is why I haven't killed you yet. For you to be with her for so long but not have declared any intentions is a serious insult. It means you don't think she's worthy of marrying.” Corso stared, not sure what exactly to make of that declaration. Was Tymar really giving him some kind of 'Do right by my sister or else' speech? Corso had a few friends who'd gotten married at blaster point after getting a girl 'in trouble', or getting caught with her, but he'd never imagined he'd been in that position. Finally he found his voice again. “I don't think Tial is interested in marrying me.” “I think you'd be surprised.” Tymar leaned back in his chair, dark purple eyes staring forward at something Corso couldn't see. “And I didn't say you had to. Marks of Intent are about...saying that you want to be with someone and only them. It doesn’t mean anything to you humans, I guess, but the tattoos are apart of who we are.” Corso was saved from answering by a red-faced Elara coming to stand in front of their table, eyes dancing with mirth. “Tia wants you to come out Corso.” “I don't dance.” The response was automatic and had been stated no less than twenty times that evening. Elara sniffed, voice taking on a hint of an Imperial accent. “Tia says that's an order from your Captain, Riggs.” Evil woman. Corso was going to tell Elara exactly what he thought of Tial's orders but the woman turned her head slightly, exposing the small double triangle markings right behind her ear. He'd never seen them before, probably because they were in a place that was easily covered with hair, but they didn't look new. “Well. I wouldn't want to defy an order.” Elara smiled again then headed back to where Tial and Leta were waiting. Tymar sipped his drink primly, but wasn't able to smother the smug smile. Sadly all the loosening up in the world hadn't changed the fact that the oldest Chraya child was a smug bastard. “When are you going to declare your intentions towards Risha?” Tymar choked, loudly. Nadia, who was engaged in a intense conversation with Aric, looked over in alarm and all but flew over, ready to attend to her master. Tymar had confessed that he thought his padawan had a crush on him and that it made life on his ship endlessly awkward. Now, as Nadia began to fuss over him, Tymar glared at him balefully, eyes promising pain. .6. “Marry me.” Tial sputtered, hairbrush falling from her suddenly nerveless fingers. She turned to stare at her boyfriend, or whatever she was supposed to call him, who was sprawled out on their bed, watching her intently. His eyes were dark and serious and it made her stomach twist. This wasn't the first time he'd asked her, that had been in the cockpit of the ship. She'd basically fallen apart, laughing nervously and telling him that she wasn't the marrying type before fleeing to her bedroom, locking him out for the night. He hadn't brought it up again, but she'd felt the distance between them even if the words weren't said. He'd taken to sleeping in his old bunk, which had been a source of annoyance for Guss and Bow considering how cramped the conditions were with three people crammed in there. This was the first night he'd spent back in here with her, and she'd been hoping for sex, not a follow up proposal. He could be so infuriating. “Damnit Corso.” She started to bend to pick up the brush. “Tial.” She groaned, glaring up at him through her bangs. He clearly didn't intend to play fair tonight; he knew what saying her name like that did to her. She was so used to him calling her Captain that when she'd first heard him say her name (No, it was more like he'd breathed her name, a soft gasping noise that had cut right through her) it had destroyed all of the careful emotional distance she had constructed between them. He only called her by her name when they were alone, but it still had a powerful effect on her. In the heat of passion it could make her come undone, in tense moments it could relax her, when she was angry it was the only thing that could soothe her. When had she allowed one person to gain so much control over her? He was out of the bed, wearing nothing but his shorts, and was pulling her close. Hands on her hips then one on the small of her back, holding her in place while he kissed her. She gave up on the brush and focused on kissing him back, arms wrapping around his neck. His body was hard and hot, arms strong around her and it was so easy to just pull him closer and drink it in. Kissing him always sent a flush of heat through her body and wrapped a fog around her brain. That was how they'd ended up in bed together to begin with; a little too much booze and a few fierce kisses and she'd practically forgotten her own name in her haste to get Corso's pants off. It hadn't been her finest moment, but she supposed she didn't regret it. His tongue touched her lips and she parted for him eagerly. The hand on her hip moved, cupping the side of her face with a gentleness that didn't quite work with the way he kissed her, but it was Corso so it worked perfectly. She pulled back to breathe and turned her head to nuzzle his hand, happy that he didn't seem to be pressing the marriage issue. Something dark on his wrist caught her attention and she grabbed his wrist, sex temporarily forgotten as the gravity of what she was looking at sank in. He had two small triangles in black ink on the inside of his wrist, one with small dots at the point and the other with an oval resting against it's right side. She breathed out, thumb rubbing over the marks. She could feel him looking down at her and knew his eyes were worried and that he was probably chewing on his bottom lip, waiting for her response. Her stomach heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice and her eyes burned. She swallowed, willing the tears that wanted to betray her to stay put. Finally, the silence stretching almost painfully between them, she pressed a feather light kiss to the inside of his wrist. “Fine. But don't you come crying to me if you regret it later.” Her voice wasn't her own, pitched oddly and wavering wetly. 0000000000 Finished! I'm not sure any of these moments fit into the 'Hot on My Heels' future storyline, but they were fun to write either way. Playing in Corso and Tial's head is always fun, especially when I get to leave the context of the Smuggler storyline. Thanks to everyone who read and I hope you all enjoyed it!

0000000000 Chapter Five By Hands that Touch Me 0000000000 They made short work of the droids defending the facility; Tial went in and out of stealth, blasting the droids in the back of their processing units with her shot gun while Corso drew their fire. He avoided most of their fire completely, ducking in and out of cover and crouching behind a well placed reception desk, and the shots he did take were absorbed by the shield generator. One last loud crack rang out, followed by the sound of metal crashing to the ground, and Corso straightened up. Tial was standing in the middle of the room, considering the assembled pile of droids thoughtfully. Corso leapt over the desk and walked over to stand next to the smaller woman, who now had her lips pursed as she looked around the room. “Captain?” “Do you think it strange, Riggs, that there are no people protecting this place?” He thought it was strange that she was calling him Riggs again since he'd thought they'd left that back on Ord Mantell and at least progressed to 'Kid' and 'Corso'. He didn't say that to her and instead just shrugged. He supposed it was better that it hadn't been people; Corso wasn't adverse to killing people who threatened him or those who cared about but that didn't mean he didn't prefer to blast droids instead. She gave the room one last sweep then turned on her heel to head down the hallway. Corso stayed close behind, rifle drawn in case any more droids lurked around, but their path turned out to be uncontested. Unless you counted walking into a room and finding two large turrets aimed at the one lone living occupant. The woman had her back turned to them and was staring up at a series of screens, one of which showed the room they'd just been in. “Was watching you on the feed. You sure know how to make an entrance.” The woman turned, nodding at them. She had the same dark green skin as Tial, marking her as Mirialan, which seemed to put the captain at ease right away. Tial holstered her blaster and glanced at Corso from the corner of her eye, silently asking what he thought. “I think this is our slicer, but then why does this room looks like a prison?” He indicated the turrets, which Tial's eyes took in as a frown curved her lips. “Because it is a prison, thanks for noticing.” Kixi's voice was more than a little scathing but in light of the situation Corso let it slide. Having guns pointed at you all day could put a person on edge. “Whatever your issue is with the guild, we're on the same side. I'm just a slave here.” Tial's lips were pressed so tightly together they were going white from the force. “You Kixi?” “Y-yeah. Short for Kixiaralu. You...you came here for me.” Kixi's eyes went from guarded to hopeful and Corso would be lying if he said it didn't tug at his heart a little bit. “The Guild kidnapped me two years ago and has been forcing me to work for them ever since. I'd do anything to get out here. What do you need?” “You put me on Skavak's trail and I'll get you out of here.” Tial said, voice stilted. Corso was glad she was agreeing to free the girl, but wasn't sure what to think of her tone or the dark look on her face. “Finding his trail is easy, just gotta look for the slime.” Kixi turned back to her console, fingers flying. “I knew the pig-lizard had messed with the wrong person; that's why he was in such a hurry to have me scrub his record. He paid the guild a ton for it, had me slice into the Republic's main database and get rid of all the arrest warrants.” Corso whistled, impressed. There were lots of two-bit slicers out there, (even Corso had been known to delve into places he probably had no business being) but few could boast that they were good enough to get into the Republic's database and tamper with a person's records. Tial's hard expression cracked as she smirked. “That musta taken forever.” Kixi tossed an impish smile over her shoulder. “Some of my best work, actually. But...that's all I can say about Skavak. No idea where he is.” The redhead nodded slowly then, her eyes flashed darkly. “Can you at least make it hard for him? Make his record dirtier than a sewer on Hutta?” “So you want me to put it back how I found it? Easy. He won't be able to walk ten meters without being flagged.” Kixi paused, voice dropping to pained whisper. “If I do this will you let me go?” Tial was silent a moment, gaze dropping to the floor. Corso shifted closer to her, reaching and touching her arm. The memory of Syreena's dead body surged back to him and, as much as he didn't want to feel it, worry came with it. He knew Tial would shoot an unarmed person (not that he was much better, really) but he really hoped she was going to let Kixi go and that this wasn't going to be an unfortunate repeat. He wanted to believe she would do the right thing, just as she'd done for the dancer at the club, but he would be lying if he said he was totally sure. “You wreck the son of a Hutt for me and you're free to go wherever you want. Hell, I'll carry you on my back if you want.” “That is...not needed.” Kixi laughed lightly. She went back to work, undoing the work she'd done to scrub Skavak's record and promising to leave a little something extra behind in honor of their kindness. Tial just smiled thinly and, once Kixi was done, she whipped out her shotgun. Kixi reared back, slamming into her work station. Her eyes were blown wide open, blue overtaking the pupils. “You said you would let me go!” “That is what I said.” Tial leveled her shotgun and fired, shattering the right turret. The left one whirred to life, beeping as it's gun began to rise; Tial shot that one as well, blowing a hole through it's middle. It sank back, wires sparking inside it's shell. Kixi swallowed then, cautiously, descended from her station to walk over to them. “I-I. Uh. Thanks.” Tial holstered the shotgun then dug around in her bag, emerging with a credit stick. She thrust it out at Kixi, who took it with shaking hands. “You can come with us for now, but I'm not sure where we'll be headed next. I'll give you my frequency so you holo if you need anything or you think someone is following you or...whatever. If you want off planet, once I get my ship I'll take you somewhere.” The other Mirialan stared at Tial, eyes becoming watery. Corso coughed and looked away; he'd never done well with crying women. It made him lose him composure. “You don't have to do this.” Kixi's voice was a thick whisper. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before.” Tial sighed and tugged on the end of her dark red ponytail, looking a little embarrassed. “Yeah well. I'm a sucker for hard luck stories I guess. Don't let it get around.” 0000000000 They'd deposited Kixi with Darmas then struck out for Black Sun territory to gather up the holo-recordings they were hoping would give them a clue of where Skavak had gone off to. Kixi was in her ear, helping them navigate their way to what they were looking for via the communication device Darmas had been kind enough to loan her. They kept their distance from the restless looking groups of gang members, though Tial could tell Corso was itching for a fight. Still, she was pretty sure they'd get all the action they wanted when they finally pinned Skavak down; there was just no way that scumbag would be nice enough to give up and let Tial shoot him between the eyes without a fight. She was glad for that, of course. She wanted to pleasure of hunting him down, beating him down, and then ending his miserable existence. Once they'd had what they needed they'd gone to the Black Sun's main communications hub and been treated to an image of Skavak hiring some muscle to take care of a lawman on his tail. It had been Corso, stupid always concerned with others Corso, who'd suggested they go and try to help the lawman. A firefight had followed, much to Corso's delight and had resulted with a very dead Cathar at their feet. The lawman, A Sullustan named Miel, had agreed to share any information he found out about Skavak with them, seemingly very impressed with their help. He'd even called her 'honest' a word that was rarely associated with her. He was funny, but Tial couldn't help but like him a little; anyone who wanted to take Skavak down was on her 'good' list. Sadly he hadn't had any information to give her about the useless son-of-a-ronto which had left them at something of a dead end, otherwise known as Darmas' private room at the Dealer's Den. Darmas had his feelers out, trying to pick up on Skavak's next move. She could feel the noose tightening and it was putting her on edge. She didn't want to wait, but she knew that was all she could do. For now, at least. Tial yawned then pushed herself up on her elbows, considering the scene around her carefully. Corso was sitting on the floor, back against the couch she was sitting on, fast asleep. He had his rifle across his lap, hand resting on it protectively. Darmas was sitting at the gaming table, Kixi across from him, flirting shamelessly with the giggling slicer. A pang of jealousy, petty petty jealousy, struck at her and she turned away from them, frowning. Darmas had made a show of propositioning her and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't been tempted by the older man. It had been...a very long time since she'd had sex, entirely too long really, if the way she'd tossed herself at Corso the night before was anything to go by. She'd had a few men grace her bed over the years (though not nearly as many as her siblings seemed to believe) and hadn't gone such a long time in a dry spell since...well. Since her first time the night before leaving home to go to the military academy. Acceptance had been right on the tip of her tongue but she'd caught sight of Corso's face, a mixture of anger, worry, and distress, and the refusal had fallen from her lips before she could really think it over. Darmas had looked surprised at being turned down but, every bit the player Tial knew he was, had bounced back and turned his attention to Kixi without missing a bit. Corso had looked shocked as well but his expression had melted into embarrassed appreciation when Tial let her voice fall to a whisper in order to tell him that he was her number one. She didn't know what was going on with him, or her, or them but she knew she didn't want to make things between them any more awkward than they already were. Sleeping with Darmas would only muddy the waters more, and with Skavak so close she couldn't afford that. She flopped over again, not surprised to find that Darmas and Kixi were gone. He really was charming and, even if he hadn't been Kixi was probably in the middle of an epically long dry period herself. Which, really, meant that Tial had saved her life and gotten her a little action. She wasn't half bad at this whole hero thing, really. Corso stirred, groaning softly, before going still again. She looked down then sucked in a breath, stricken by how sweet he looked. He was a sweet guy in general, of course, and with those big velvety brown eyes and his scarred face he was far from hard to look at, but while asleep there was something very...calm and comforting about him. She didn't realize she'd reached out until her hand was on his face, lightly tracing the scars there. She found herself wondering, not for the first time, how he'd gotten them. She didn't know much about him, except that she found him utterly infuriating. Then again he didn't know much about her either, did he? He knew she had a brother and sister, but that was due to circumstances Tial couldn't avoid. She never would have volunteered that information left to her own devices. He had maybe overheard about her 'sordid' past as a dancer, but again that wasn't information she had really given him on purpose. All she knew about him was that his family had been killed by Separatists and he'd made it his life's work to wipe them out, something she'd helped with back on Ord Mantell. She knew he liked to name his weapons and that she trusted him to watch her six, even though she'd barely known him a week. The last part was all that matter, really, but- She started when Corso's hand flashed out and grabbed her own, forcing her to stop moving. His eyes snapped open, cloudy and confused for a moment then recognition and curiousness surged to the forefront. He was very readable, those eyes giving away everything without remorse. “Captain.” Corso offered a small smile as he let her wrist go. She pulled it back, cheeks blazing hot with the force of her blush. He reduced her to a stuttering embarrassed teenager and she didn't understand why. “What's going on?” His voice was a hushed whisper and, in spite of herself, she found herself leaning in to hear him better, allowing the moment to become far more intimate that she would have liked. Still, so close she could feel how warm Corso was, she couldn't help but let it go to her head. “Tell me something about you farm boy.” He stared at her a moment longer, brown eyes soft with some emotion she couldn't name, then he turned away, staring at something she couldn't see. “When I was fourteen I joined the peace brigade. It gave me a look at what a world looks like when the Empire is done with it; a better look than any kid should have, really.” “What's that, a group of do-gooders?” She rested her chin in her palm, smiling to take any potential sting from her words. He laughed lightly. “I suppose. The brigades a relief organization, go into worlds abandoned by the Treaty and help people displaced by the Empire. I was a dumb kid, looking for adventure, but after two months...” He frowned, expression haunted. It wasn't a good look for him and she ached to reach out and wipe it away. She didn't. “Well lets just say there are no kids in warzones.” His gaze snapped back to her and he suddenly looked apologetic. “Geeze, that was depressing. I'm sorry, that probably wasn't what you had in mind.” Tial just shrugged; she'd heard it now and there was no way to take it back so there wasn't much sense in regretting it. She tried to imagine a younger Corso, wide-eyed and optimistic (so not too much different form the man she knew now) looking for adventure and finding nothing but desperate people who'd lost their homes and livelihoods. Tial hadn't spent much times in warzones herself but in the few years since Leta had left the academy she'd visited a few war touched worlds. Her sister knew how to paint a very grim picture when she wanted to and when it came to the Empire Leta was all about grim. “What about you? Were you really a dancer, or is that just something you said to Ria?” It was a chance to say she'd been lying, to accept an out and let that little tidbit of knowledge simply go away and be forgotten. She wasn't...ashamed of it, exactly, but she didn't know that she wanted something like that at the forefront of Corso's mind when he thought of her. Well...that wasn't totally true. “It was after the Academy. I needed credits, fast, and always intended to get in and out. Ended up dancing for over two years. Even ended up living above the place, in a cramped apartment with some other girls.” It was a strange thing to look back on, a mixture of fond memories and terrible ones. It was, probably, the most interesting part of her life so far, since before that she'd drifted around, doing odd jobs where she could for whoever she could. Hell, after that she'd just drifted some more, trying to figure out what she needed to do to get her life straight. It was a little...humbling to go from top of your class at the Republic Military Academy to swinging around a pole for credits from disgusting men. A touch humiliating as well. She supposed these were women, like Ria, who ended up in a good place and had only great things to say about being a dancer, but she wasn't one of those women. She'd landed on a small planet with the crew she was traveling with and when they'd taken off they'd left her behind, which was the risk you took when traveling with unscrupulous sorts. She'd had no credits to her name and was too proud to contact her siblings for help, so she'd rolled into the local club looking for a bartender job. The owner had convinced her that she was too pretty for slinging drinks and the next thing she knew she was on the stage. She'd brought in a little money only to be hit with mysterious stage fees that had left her with just enough to afford a room for the night. The next night she'd brought in a little more, enough to eat and have a room. Soon two years had slipped past and she'd still had no credits to show for it, as well as being firmly under the owners thumb and having had a really nice guy slip through her fingers. He'd wanted to help her get away and she'd, once again, been too proud to accept help. Tial was a true believer in hurting yourself in order to not appear weak. Maybe one day she'd get a clue. Corso was looking at her, gaze intent. She could tell he wanted to say something, but was considering his words very carefully. She arched an eyebrow, daring him to speak and afraid of what he may say. She'd hate to have to smack him with her blaster. People had a tendency to judge and Corso certainly had a little bit of a moral high horse thing going on. Corso chuckled, a deep noise that caused a stir inside of her. “Captain, Corso!” Darmas entered the room, looking as immaculate as when he'd left. Kixi, however, was nowhere in sight. “I've got some news about our friend Skavak.” Tial pushed herself up, watching Corso stretch out long limbs from the corner of her eye. Whatever Corso was going to say would have to wait; nothing was more important than getting her ship back at the moment.

0000000000 Chapter Four I Won't Cage It 0000000000 Tial glared at the control panel then looked down at blaster on her hip. Back at the panel. Blaster. Panel. Blaster- "Don't." She narrowed her eyes at Corso who didn't even both looking at her. "If you shoot it it'll just alert who ever is inside that we're coming. No point in stealth generators if you're going to announce you're at their front door." Screw him for having a good point. "Fine. What do you think we should do?" Corso shrugged. "Find someone with an access card and liberate it from him." Tial wanted to argue since she knew shooting the control panel would be way more satisfying, but she couldn't deny his idea was solid. Besides, while they looked around for someone who had a 'I'm important enough to have a passkey' look to them they could stop in at the club and see about Ria. The club was on the level above them, which was lucky indeed. She could hear the music coming from inside as well as the patrons who seemed to have little concern about the fact they were at some sleazy club in the middle of the day. They walked up the ramp leading to the next area, doing their best to look like they belonged there and weren't on a rescue mission. They passed through the small front hallway, careful to not make eye contract with the Trandoshan bouncers standing on either side of the plush blue carpet, into the front room. The walls were lined with couches and, other than the pole in the middle of the room and women in dancer's costumes, there wasn't anything overly sleazy about it. She knew better than to fall for that though, the further back you went the less 'classy' these places tended to get. There was a blue skinned Twi'lek swinging around the pole and, seeing that she was the only girl in the front room not chatting up a costumer Tial made a beeline for her. "Hey honey." Something grabbed her wrist and she pulled back hard while turning to face the source of the voice. Her hand clenched into a fist unconsciously, glaring down at the human who'd touched her. He was an ugly overweight thing, in a suit that screamed both 'expensive' and 'tacky'. If he noticed that he'd pissed her off (And Corso as well, if the way her companion was glaring at the man was any indication) he didn't show it. "How much for a dance?" Tial blinked slowly then looked down at herself, momentarily confused. She was wearing a long sleeved white shirt under a black vest with black pants and desh-toed boots, her dark red hair was pulled back into a braid that hit her between the shoulder blades and she'd forgone makeup for this little trip. She didn't look anything like a dancer, in her opinion. She looked over her shoulder at Corso who just shrugged and then back at the man, who was leering at her. "More than you can afford." The man scoffed. "I'm a Guild Underboss sweetie, I can afford anything I want, including you." His eyes narrowed dangerously as he said the last part, a clear threat, but Tial was focused on his first comment. She put a finger to her lip, pretending to consider his words while, in fact, celebrating her luck. She smiled slowly, allowing herself to be pulled closer and perched on the man's knee. He reeked of cologne, so much so that her eyes watered. Still she kept her smile in place, willing herself to not heave. "Perhaps we can work something out after all. Not here, of course. You seem like you could afford a private dance." He smiled, clearly pleased with his victory and the shift in her attitude. She could all but read his mind; he figured that flashing his rank and the promise of credits had changed her tune, as it probably did with most women he met. And, Tial was willing to bet credits on this part, those who didn't fall in line where forced to do so. "Of course beautiful. I've never had one of your kind before." He touched rough fingertips to the tattoos beneath her left eye. "Is it true that you all get tattooed all over?" "You'll just have to wait to find out." She felt the bile rising in the back of her throat but wasn't sure what was more disgusting; his smell or the way he was reducing her people's rituals to something to get hm off. "I'm sure you've got a real nice place close by. Maybe...I could send my associate ahead with you, to make sure everything is ready for me, while I change." The man looked over at Corso, who was keeping his face totally blank. The thug turned his attention back to her and Corso's expression became just slightly murderous. "This your muscle? Doesn't look like much. What's a pretty girl like you need muscle for anyway?" Tial giggled, mind racing for a moment. "Oh you know. A girl can never be too careful. People are always looking to take advantaged of my...kindness." He nodded, accepting that. He pushed her back to her feet, hands lingering on her backside far longer that needed, then gestured to Corso. "I've got apartments two blocks over. Your man can check them out then holo for you." "Sounds great." Tial was all smiles, but more because she was thinking about the long bath she'd be taking to wash away the fat oaf's touch. She leaned towards Corso, talking softly around her pasted on smile. "I need a shower." Corso's lips twitched into what may have been a smile. "I'll break his fingers for you." He really said the sweetest things. In spite of what an utter embarrassing disaster the previous evening had been she found she couldn't really be mad at the human. He'd been doing what he thought was right (and may have even been right) and Tial had been letting her hormones get the better of her. Between all the fighting they'd done on Ord, the fighting they'd done getting to Coruscant, and the crap with Skavak she was amped up and thoroughly on edge. That combined with the fact that the life of a smuggler trying to make a name for themselves didn't leave much time for relationships had left her wanting and she'd clearly overstepped her bounds. She'd thought Corso was willing but he'd politely turned her down. Tial could see that it was better that way. Corso Riggs was a good guy, a rare breed really, and she'd learned the hard way that dealing with good guys just got complicated and messy. Now, Darmas Pollaran, on the other hand, was right up her alley. He was a little older than she usually went for but then Corso was a little younger and she'd practically thrown herself at him. Guys like Darmas were easy and utterly transparent. They knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to make it known. Darmas spoke fast and said just the right thing, so smooth that Tial could almost believe he was sincere. He was the kind of man who professed love to a dozen girls a month and broke hearts just as often. He wasn't the sort of man a girl could take home to her mother, since he'd probably try to sleep with her mother, but that was only a problem if you were stupid enough to fall for his charm. Tial wasn't, not at this stage in her life anyway, but she appreciated the sort of man that he was. Easy, fun, and low maintenance. That was what she needed in her life, not cute farm boys who said the wrong thing half the time, stood in front of blaster fire to protect her, and... Tial sighed, banishing those thoughts. She had a job to do and she needed to get a move on before Corso came back from his little adventure. She walked to the dancer, catching the woman's eyes and nodding slightly. The dancer smiled at her and hopped down from her place on the pole nimbly. "Hello, how can I help you today? Putting in an application maybe? We haven't had a Mirialan girl in a long time." Tial shook her head. She didn't see much pole dancing in her future. "No, I'm a friend of Ria.I was hoping to talk to her." "Oh." The Twi'lek's smile faded slightly. "Well she just got in, not even suited up yet. You want to wait for her to change?" "I'd rather not, if you don't mind." "Not a problem." The dancer's smile was back and, without another word, she headed down the hallway that lead deeper into the club. It didn't take long for Ria to appear. She spotted Tial right away, probably having been informed by the Twi'lek that a Mirialan woman was looking from her, and her eyes turned suspicious. Still she offered her hand and Tial shook it, noting the other woman's strong grip. "I'm Ria. I was told you were looking for me?" She didn't say the words but the look on her face made it clear she wanted an explanation for why Tial was there, claiming to be a friend. "Tial." She looked around, making sure no one was in earshot, then dropped her voice to an urgent whisper. "I'm going to get you out of here." Ria's face went from confused to totally blank. "Why would I want to leave? I love it here." Tial frowned slightly. "You don't have to lie. I understand how these places can work; they offer to take you on, or force you to dance, then promise to let you go once you've made some arbitrary amount of credit but you never make it and they just hold on to you until they've got no use for you anymore." Ria stared at her unblinkingly (Nautolans didn't blink, which made talking to them kind of unnerving) and the tendrils on her head moved, shifting like thin snakes. Finally she frowned and reached out to touch Tial's shoulder, pity obvious in her large eyes. Tial felt her face heat up in embarrassment as she realized she may have said a bit much. She had a soft spot for **** like this and had, more than once in her life, gone out of her way to try and help decent people caught in bad situations. She was probably projecting a little bit. "This isn't some Hutt's club Tial. I'm here because I want to be and that's all there is to it." The Nautolan paused for a moment then sighed. "Nik sent you didn't he? I knew I shouldn't have told him the Guild was forcing me to dance but it was all I could think of. I didn't know how to tell him I was leaving him." Tial pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a heavy breathe. "You weren't kidnapped." "No. This is the happiest I've ever been. I feel...amazing. Powerful, even, when I'm on stage." Indeed Ria's eyes brightened in obvious pleasure at the very thought. Tial supposed she could understand that; even at the worst of times knowing you had people hanging onto your every movement was the sort of thing that could go to a girl's head. "You know what I mean." Ria smiled as if they were sharing some kind of secret. Tial nodded, a strange tendril of shame worming its way into her stomach. She knew. "So you won't try to make me leave." "As long as you're sure this is what you want." Who was she to force someone to return to an unhappy marriage? Tial hated places like this, or at least the sleazy ones that held their dancers captive and slapped slave collars on those who forced to comply, but she wasn't one to let her hatred totally blind her. "You should tell Nik the truth Ria. At least to stop him from hiring someone else to come after you." Though, really, she'd volunteered her services after overhearing the conversation. That wasn't really the point...was it? No. The guy still deserved to know the truth, even if it hurt. "I'll...I'll talk to him." Ria agreed haltingly. Tial could see the lie all over her face. She didn't call her out on it, instead just giving the other woman her holo frequency and making her swear to call if she needed anything at all, ever. Ria agreed then hugged her, seemingly uncaring that Tail went stiff as a board instantly, then ran back to get ready for her 'show'. Tial rubbed at the bridge of her nose again, a nervous gesture she'd picked up from Tymar when they were young. She was an idiot. Worse than an idiot, she was a sucker! She had too much of a soft spot for hard luck cases and, at this point, had given her holo to no less than twenty dancers, a handful of prostitutes, and a few of those separatist kids. At the rate she was going she might as well have just started a hotline or a charity. "That was nice of you Captain." Tial jumped, yelping, at the familiar voice in her ear. She turned, hand instinctively going for her blaster, and swore at Corso. "A little warning next time Riggs! I swear..." He just laughed while making a gesture with his hand, indicating that they should head for the entrance. She grumbled under her breath but followed nonetheless. Her little outburst had caused a few heads to swivel in their direction and it wouldn't be a good idea to start drawing attention now. It wasn't until they were outside that Corso's words registered in her head. She frowned suspiciously; how much had he heard anyway? He didn't seem inclined to say anymore so, rather than charge headfirst into yet another uncomfortable moment, Tial resolved to put it out of her mind and forget all about it. They walked back to the lower level, once again doing their best to look inconspicuous. They'd crept past the worst of the fighting, thanks in no small part to the stealth generators. She couldn't imagine why she hadn't been using one of them before; it was great. According to Darmas, the member of the Guild gang often shot those they couldn't readily identify and while she didn't have a problem fighting most of the time, today she was focused on the task at hand. With the promise of getting closer to Skavak and her ship being dangled in front of her she couldn't allow gang disputes to slow her down. They stood in front of the control panel once again, this time however Corso produced a data card from one of his pockets. He considered it for a moment then smiled. "It sure was nice of that Guild guy to let us have this, don'tcha think?" Tial snorted. "I'm sure he just couldn't resist your charm." 0000000000

Yes. He's nerdy and I like a nerdy guy. I was a little disappoint he wasn't an option (you can flirt but other than that nada) I mean, I like Revel too and probably would have stuck with him in the long run, but nothing is wrong with options!

Consular companions are generally terrible and boring.

0000000000 Chapter Six The Moving of the River 0000000000 Khem Val looked disappointed, or at least Alaian thought the look on his face was disappointment. It was hard to say one way or another, really. For all he knew Khem could have been a great mood, but he seriously doubted that. They'd returned to the academy and broken apart from Talaa and Vette. He'd been...hopeful that he'd finally get a chance to deal with Ffon but his hopes had been dashed fairly quickly. He had strode into Harkun's office, head held high in the way that only one who knew they'd succeeded could, and revealed that he had done with Ffon could not. It should have been a glorious moment, one of total victory over those who felt themselves above him, but instead it had quickly spiraled out of control. “Impossible!” Ffon was livid, lips pressed so tightly together that his skin was beginning to go white around them.”You...you filth! You've cheated somehow, had help! That girl I saw you with, obviously.” Alaian smiled pleasantly. “Are you angry that I beat you or angry that your sparkling personality means that no one except for Harkun would so much as spit on you if you burst into flames?” Ffon surged forward, clearly intending to strike him, but Khem Val shifted his weight slightly and it was more than enough to keep the other acolyte at bay. Harkun walked over to him, far less threateningly, then all but ripped the map from Alaian's hand. Not that he cared much; he had gotten the map and now there was nothing Harkun could do to stop him from becoming Zash's apprentice. “I don't know how you got this and I don't care.” Harkun's voice was low and dangerous. “I will not allow a disgusting son-of-a-whore to become Sith.” Alaian's smile fell. Not at Harkun's threat but at the old familiar insult. He'd heard that, and other equally as creative jibes, his entire life but he'd been hoping to leave them behind him. The overseer saw his expression change and smirked triumphantly. “You think I don't know about you Slave? That your birth mother was nothing more than a pleasure slave and that your father cleans the filth of his betters.” The Overseer leaned forward, face so close that it took a serious effort to not recoil away. “That you are no better than your whore mother?” A heady mixture of anger and shame boiled in Alaian. Harkun's words were, of course, utterly true. His mother had been a young mixed-breed girl (Human and Pureblood, or so the story went anyway. Talaa was skeptical and had always thought they were mixed with something less savory.) that his father had engaged in a brief affair with. A year later she'd appeared at his home with two babies, explaining that keeping them was eating into her profits. Oddly enough being pregnant had boosted her work (a thought that made Alaian sick to be honest) but two squealing infants didn't have the same effect. They knew nothing more of the woman who'd bore them, save that she'd left the gold jewelry Talaa now wore, insisting they were heirlooms of a time when her family had been powerful. She'd been delusional, at best but she didn't appear to have passed any of that on to them, so he wasn't troubled by it. There was far too much to worry about when it came to their birth mother to let insanity trip him up. It was a sordid tale that he and Talaa hadn't been able to escape. Even though their father's wife, the woman Alaian thought of as his mother, had taken them in and raised them as her own the truth of their birth was on record for anyone who wanted to look. If not for their early signs of force ability they probably would have found themselves in the same profession as their birth mother; Talaa had grown far too stunning and he had ended up far too 'delicate' in build for anything else. Even with their force sensitivity they'd found themselves being groomed to be slaves, shopped around like pieces of meat from the time they hit puberty. Slaves were being allowed to become acolytes but, at the same time, force sensitive slaves could fetch a hefty sum of credits. Offers had come in but in the end Imperial edict had demanded they head to Dathomir in hopes of becoming acolytes. Dathomir had been...an experience, to say the least. They'd been singled out as slaves immediately by scornful overseers and shunned by their peers. It was a dangerous place, lacking Korriban's rules against killing your peers, and being friendless and looked down upon had made it that much more dangerous. He had, at times, resorted to things he tried not to dwell on in order to make powerful friends and forge alliances. Harkun's smirk only grew. His words had hit home and, though Alaian was loath to admit it, he was a little rattled. It was his own fault; he'd let his guard down and allowed himself to believe that what he had come from wouldn't be thrown into his face. Talaa seemed to be leaving her past behind her; Tremel had kept her low birth to himself and she had yet to be treated as anything except another Pureblood acolyte. It was clear now that he wouldn’t be so lucky but, really, could he be surprised? He was here because of what he was, was he not? “But never mind you. Ffon, you will deliver this personally to Lord Zash.” The map changed hands and Alaian sighed. Some people just didn't know when to give up. He rolled his shoulders, willing the tension there to dissipate then looked up at Khem Val. “I'll take Harkun, you eat Ffon. Be mindful of the map.” Ffon paled slightly and moved closer to Harkun; he seemed to have lost some of his bluster in the face of Khem Val. Harkun also looked a little nervous but clearly wasn't about to back down. Instead he started to reach for his weapon. “Call your monster off acolyte.” Lord Zash's voice made everyone in the room pause. Alaian turned to see the woman striding towards them. She was pretty, with blond hair and dark brown eyes, but she radiated a kind of...nauseating darkness. “I would have a word with Ffon.” Alaian nodded at Khem who made a disappointed noise but remained at his side without protest. Zash flashed him a small smile before turning her attention back to Ffon, who seemed to be physically wilting at the sight of the Sith Lord. “L-lord Zash.” The other acolyte stuttered. “Yes Ffon. Now, where is my map?” Zash's smile was kind and sweet but her eyes were cold and almost black with anger. “H-here Lord Zash. Right here.” Ffon handed the holodiscs over, sweat beginning to gather at his brow. Alaian watched, a touch of confusion surging forward. Zash was intimidating, yes, but the way Ffon was falling apart was...perhaps a bit over the top. “You brought me this map for me Ffon? How wonderful.” Zash touched the other acolyte's arm gently. Ffon made a small distressed noise in the back of his throat. “Yes. Yes!” Alaian scowled; he had the nerve to not just lie but to lie to Lord Zash's face? He would destroy him! More than that, he could flay the skin from his flesh then leave him in the middle of the desert to slowly die! He would- “Calm yourself acolyte!” Zash snapped, looking back at him and for a moment Alaian saw not the beauty before him but a dark, hunched and withered thing. He blinked, instantly pulling in the rage he hadn't realized he was letting ooze out. “Ffon will tell me what happened, won't you Ffon? You wouldn't lie to me, would you? Because it would be a shame for me to discover that you lied to me. One more time Ffon, did you bring me this map?” Her tone was light but her words promised pain and suffering. It seemed it was too much for Ffon who began to back away and shake his head violently. “N-n-no. I'm sorry, I didn't bring the map back.” Zash turned to Harkun, eyes blazing with fury. “Harkun you fool! In any other group for any other lord this young man would have torn the other acolytes apart!” Purple lightning began to coalesce in her hand, winding itself into a shimmering ball. “What were you trying to prove? That you could outsmart me! That you knew better than me what I wanted for an apprentice? You fool.” The energy in her hand flew out, striking Ffon in the chest. The acolyte shirked, body bowing with pain, then fell to the ground. He twitched minutely but was very much dead. Harkun stared down at Ffon, face totally blank. “There is your pet Harkun. Clean this mess up.” Zash spat, venom dripping from her words. Then her face changed back to the pleasant woman he'd encountered in the hall earlier and the power she'd been emitting withdrew into her, blinking out of his awareness as if she'd never released it at all. “Apprentice meet me in my chambers immediately.” “As you say.” Alaian bowed slightly, not wanting to incur that considerable wrath himself. Zash turned on her heel and left, not glancing back once. Harkun was seething, teeth bared in a snarl. “This isn't over slave! Without Lord Zash to save you you're nothing. I have connections that will hunt you wherever you go.” Alaian considered the overseer's words for a moment, tilting his head up thoughtfully. Then: “I am looking forward to it. Your blind hate has fueled me and I doubt I would have made it this far without it.” Harkun jerked back as if Alaian had physically struck him. “Get out of my sight slave! Your new Master is waiting upstairs.” He was happy to do just that. He was done with Harkun, at least for now, and it was time to move on to better things. He was an apprentice now, finally Sith, and he had a feeling he had more important things to worry about than Harkun's petty threats. He and Khem Val hurried to Zash's office where she bestowed upon him her very first lightsaber. It felt solid and powerful in his hands, glowing a strange black-yellow color when he powered it up. He'd sworn to cause bloodshed with it wherever he went and Zash had smiled approvingly. It was a simple design and a touch small in his hands, but he was confident he would wield it well. She'd then given him his next task, traveling to the Imperial Capital so they could begin working on some mystery task. She wouldn't give him more details, claiming there were unfriendly ears in the academy, then had dismissed him. He wanted to know more but he was also eager to get off of Korriban. Kaas City laid before him, a place he'd never imagined he'd go let alone going as a Sith apprentice. It would be the start of his new life and the sooner it began the better. “You said I would get to feed.” Khem Val grunted, that look that may have been disappointment on his face. They were out of Zash's office now and in the strangely empty hallway. Alaian frowned slightly, considering the promise he'd made to the Dashade in the tomb. With Ffon dead he wasn't sure where he was going to acquire a force user to sate Khem Val's appetite. “Stop right there slave!” Alaian was broken from his thoughts and found himself confronted with three men. The one in center of the group, the biggest and clearly the leader of the little party, was the one who'd addressed him. “Darth Skotia had a message for you.” “I am Sith and you will address me as such.” Alaian bit out, annoyance flaring. He'd been Zash's apprentice for all five minutes and already people who acting as if that meant nothing. “And who the hell is Darth Skotia?” “Darth Skotia is Lord Zash's superior and your worst nightmare.” Alaian may have chuckled at that; this man had no idea the kinds of nightmares he had, but the messenger didn't seem inclined to acknowledge his humor. “The message is you will not go to Dromund Kaas. Everything you've done here and everyone you've encountered, Zash included, is insignificant. Darth Skotia had eyes and ears everywhere and he knows what Zash is up to and he is displeased to say the least.” The messenger moved closer to him, so close he was able to put a finger to Alaian's chest and poke him with each word, clearly meaning to emphasize his point. Alaian just stared, mind going totally blank. “On Korriban Zash may have her way, but on Dromund Kaas it's a different story. So you see, you have to die.” “I was hoping you'd say that.” He made a gesture at Khem Val who took a menacing step forward. The two men who'd been silent so far visibly shrank at the sight. “I know I promised you Ffon, but I hope these three will make up for it.” Khem Val's eyes showed his hunger. “They will do.” 0000000000 Talaa left Baras' office feeling fairly pleased with herself. She'd taken her position as his apprentice and no longer had to worry about Vemrin, as he was an oozing pile of flesh back in the tomb, and she was headed for Kaas City. The capital of the Sith Empire, a truly impressive place from what she understood. She had always known she was destined for more than life as a slave and now the whole of the Empire stood before her, waiting for her to step out and grab at the possibilities. She wanted to find Alaian before she left to see where, if anywhere, he'd be going but after a quick circuit of the academy she found him missing. She felt a touch of sadness as she decided to give up and told Vette they'd be heading to the shuttle station now. The Twi'lek would be coming with her, a gift from Baras to do with as she pleased, and she was unsettled by it. Every time she saw that collar her stomach twisted in a mixture of anger and guilt. “Isn't that your brother there?” They were walking along the path to the shuttle now. The sun was high in the sky and baring down on them fiercely; just that short walk had Talaa sweating. She would be glad to be rid of this place. Alaian was standing with Khem Val outside of the shuttle that would take her to fleet. He was speaking to Overseer Ragate about something but still nodded in her direction to acknowledge he'd seen her. Ragate glanced in her direction as well then smiled. It was a nice smile, but rather a dark secretive one. The overseer nodded at Alaian then began to walk away. She held a bag in her hand, a military grade pack by the looks of it, and offered it to Talaa once she was close enough. “Everything a young Juggernaut will need. Use it wisely child.” With that she was striding away, surprisingly swift for a woman her age. Talaa watched her for a moment, squinting against the sun, then shrugged slightly. She had been seriously considering the words of the woman after the last time they'd met and the Juggernaut path did appeal to her, so it was perhaps best to not dwell on how the overseer had known that. Alaian had a bag of his own at his feet and was rifling through it with a look of boredom on his face. Then, all at once, his expression changed to one of awe. He withdrew his hand from the bag, bringing with it a large...book. Talaa blinked. She'd never seen a physical book in her life but she'd heard that written texts did still exist in some places (museums and ancient libraries). To see one was a strange kind of honor. To actually hold one... “What is it?” Alaian's fingers drifted over the cover for a moment, eyes hooded. Then he shoved it back into the bag and stood up. “My master wants to meet me on Dromund Kaas.” Talaa smiled, allowing his strange behavior to be forgotten. She trusted him and, beyond that, had no real interest in his book. “Then we will travel there together.” “Sounds great.” Vette's voice surprised her; she'd forgotten the Twi'lek was with her. “I mean, nothing like being an alien slave in Kaas City. I can't wait.” Talaa titled her head to the side, hair sliding over her forehead. A sideways glance at her brother found him looking at her expectantly and, with a roll of her eyes, she reached out for Vette. The blue-skinned woman started to shrink away but a glare from Talaa stopped her. She fumbled with the collar for a moment then found the release mechanism. She pushed it then pushed the corresponding button on the remote that had come with Vette. Just using the release on the collar would have blown Vette's head off, which would have been needlessly messy. There was a swoosh, like the sound of air being released. Vette's eyes widened. She reached up, yanking at the offending piece of metal and making a surprised noise in the back of her throat when it came away easily. She ran her fingers over the skin the collar had been attached to, now a much paler blue than the rest of her. “I have no use for slaves.” Talaa said, not entirely sure she meant it. On the one hand Vette was useful and had proven herself to be capable in the tomb; letting her go may have been a foolish move. However there was also no honor or strength in accepting already caught and tagged prey. “Oh.” Was all Vette said after a long moment. She smiled softly, still letting her fingers drift over her neck. “Mind if I tag along anyway? I hear the Dromund system is great this time of year.” Talaa had a feeling that, in releasing Vette, she'd earned the woman's loyalty. She wasn't sure that Vette's loyalty would be worth much in the long run but, at least for the moment, she wouldn't refuse it. It was likely that a hard path laid ahead of her and having an ally outside of Alaian certainly couldn't hurt her any. “How sickening.” Khem Val grunted. Talaa glowered at the Dashade who was now looking down at her brother with gleaming eyes. “What of you Little Sith? Will you be releasing me? Alaian blinked slowly. “I just watched you physically eat three men. I would sooner slit my own throat then grant you freedom.” “Eww.” Vette muttered while shifting to be just behind Talaa, and out of Khem Val's reach. Khem Val made a noise that may have been a laugh, a raspy chuff. “Then you aren't as stupid as you appear.” Her brother just smiled serenely by way of reply, prompting another laugh from the Dashade. Before anything else could be said the door on the shuttle flipped open and the pilot poked his head out (eyes lingering on Khem Val as the pilot grew dangerously pale) to announce that he was boarding for the Imperial Fleet. Alaian boarded first, Khem Val at his heels. Talaa started to follow then paused, glancing over her shoulder at the red dusty terrain of Korriban. Acolytes milled about in the valley below her, undergoing their own trials under the hot sun. She spit into the dirt then ducked into the cool interior of the shuttle, sweat drying on her skin almost immediately. She slid into the seat next to her brother and was reminded of how, a few long days ago, they'd been on their way to Korriban. They'd come as former slaves and left as Sith. Talaa settled back in her seat, a strange lightness settling over her. She had no idea what Baras had waiting for her in Kaas city but she was confident she would conquer it. Or, Talaa added to herself, if she couldn't conquer what lay ahead she was simply destroy it. ~Fin~ The continuation of the Twin's adventures, this time on Dromund Kaas, should appear soon. It will follow the game's story to a degree, but also have it's own added content and misadventures. I promise: An assassin out to eat Talaa's face, an Imperial Agent Alaian takes a liking to, an Imperial Agent that Khem Val takes a dislike to, and the early introduction of one Malavai Quinn.

000000000000 Chapter Three Hold You Down 000000000000 “I can't imagine a handsome man like you living as a hermit.” “Parish the thought!” Darmas put a hand on Tial's knee, smiling up at her charmingly. “I simply have to convince the right woman to come with me. If you have any recommendations let me know.” Corso was beginning to think bringing Tial to Darmas had been a bad idea on his part. The woman had taken to the gambler immediately, responding to his transparent attempts at flirting with gusto, heedless of the fact that Darmas was old enough to be her father. Corso was man enough to admit that he was...slightly jealous. It was her fault though, with her amazing body, quick wit, and confusing signals. It had really started going downhill the night before, when they'd landed on Coruscant. Leta had left them at the spaceport, Tymar had headed for the Senate Tower, and they had been left to their own devices, but not before Tymar had set them up with a room. He'd explained, as they'd walked from the spaceport, that it was an apartment he was supposed to be using during his stay (one of many provided by the Senate for visiting Jedi) but that he doubted he'd be using it because he had to tend to his master. Tial had rolled her eyes and seemed to be just barely holding back some kind of remark, but in the end had just pressed a kiss to her brother's cheek and then lead Corso to a taxi. She seemed fine, though she claimed the skin on her face itched. She'd spent some time looking in a mirror when she'd first woken up then proclaimed that her brother had done the world a service by saving her 'beautiful face.' Corso had just snorted, which had earned him a impish grin. The building was in what seemed like a nicer part of town and towered over most of the other buildings around it, gleaming class and metal exterior gleaming in the darkness. They'd earned a few looks as they'd walked around but no one stopped them and soon enough they'd found themselves crossing the threshold into the apartment. It was a nice room, or at least nicer than your usual cantina room, if the front room was anything to go by. (Corso had perhaps seen the inside of the rooms at a few less than totally savory establishments at one point or another. It wasn't the sort of thing he could, in good conscious, confirm or deny.) and the woman had gone about making herself comfortable as soon as the door slide shut behind them. Her holster came off and was draped over a chair, followed by the scattergun. Her pack came next, falling onto the table with a dull thud. She raked her fingers through her hair while toeing off her boots, which ended up being kicked towards a corner, then made a beeline for the sliding glass doors, which opened onto a balcony. There was an impressive view of the city to be seen, and for a moment Corso stood next to her and looked out, trying to take it all in. Eventually a sense of vertigo set in and Corso slumped into the free chair, resting his feet on the table (something his mother would have killed him for.). He shrugged out of the harness he kept his rifle in, laying it next to his feet then scrubbing a hand over his face. It had been an incredibly long day, one of the longest in his life, and yet he didn't feel the urge to sleep just yet. “Why would have thought having a Jedi for a brother would have such unique perks?” Tial was back in the room, a wry smile on her lips. “Sometimes I think I made the wrong career choice.” Corso looked at the woman, trying to picture her in the plain robes of a Jedi, and found the image just...didn't work. “You don't strike me as the Jedi type.” “Well,” She looked at him over her shoulder eyes bright with laughter. “You may have a point. A life of rules and chastity probably wouldn't suit me.” Corso decided, not of the first time, that silence was the best response. Tial didn't seem to mind, instead wandering through the door in the back of the room. A few minutes passed and then Corso heard the sound of water running. A moment later Tial's head poked out of the room, a big grin on her face. “This place has a sonic bath! All this time I've been thinking Jedi deny themselves, but those saber jockeys stay in fancy apartments with sonic bathes.” She moved so she was fully in the doorway and whatever Corso had been about to say, probably something about the term 'saber jockeys' but he found his thoughts coming to a grinding halt, crashing into each other and dying in a fiery blaze. Tial had stripped down while in the other room and was standing in nothing but her underwear and bra, delicate looking purple fabric that contrasted with the dark green of her skin. Not that Corso was thinking about things like contrast or how much Tial must have spent on underwear made of Dramassian shimmersilk, too busy letting his eyes roam over the woman. He lingered on the swell of her breasts, the toned stomach and the way the curve of her hips led to long toned legs. It was only through an impressive display of willpower, forced his gaze back up to her face and found that it didn't help things any. Corso had seen dancers with less sex appeal while naked than she radiated with just her a look, and this look was one that promised a memorable night if he was willing. Her eyes had gone dark and her lips were curved up into a slight smile. “Corso.” Her lost it's soft twang and gained a husky edge. “Captain.” He was proud of himself for keeping his voice totally even. She walked over to him, hips swaying; he swallowed. He...was in trouble. “I believe that bath is big enough for two.” He was pretty sure that even if it hadn't been she would have made it work out. She was stopped in front of him, close enough to touch if he wanted to. He wanted to. Which is why he nearly wasn't able to stop himself from doing so. He swallowed again, steeling himself and silencing the part of his brain that thought what he was about to do was his dumbest move ever. “Captain, I like you, but I think this would be a bad idea.” Her eyebrows shot up, meeting her hairline, and disbelief was written all over his face. He could relate. “You might be stuck with me for a while and I think you should get to know me before we do something we regret later.” He waited, not sure what kind of reaction to expect. She blinked then, suddenly, blushed darkly. She'd nodded her understanding than all but fled back to the other room, leaving Corso alone. He'd slumped onto the table, covering his head with his arms, and groaning. He knew that what he'd said was the right thing to say; he did like her and she was stunning and being with her would be far from a hardship but he knew if they got together now only to find they couldn't stand each other, it would just make things intolerable. Who knew how long it would be before they found Skavak or what would happen after they did? Staying focused, and completely clothed, was the only way to ensure that things would go smoothly and without some kind of regrettable awkwardness hanging between them. Beyond that Corso had already had his fair share of encounters that weren't as well thought out as he wished they were. He wasn't generally the 'love them and leave them' type but he also wasn't a saint, nor would he ever claim to be, so he had a few skeletons in his closet, and he wasn't in the market to add any to the bunch. Nor was he looking for Tial to be a person he regretted later. He'd spent a long, but not uncomfortable night, alone on the couch. He'd woken up, called Darmas at Tial's behest, and then they'd set out for the man's private booth at the Dealer's Den Cantina. Tial hadn't mentioned the night before and Corso would have been content with that, if not for the way she was allowing the slime Darmas to chat her up. “Oh my. Beauty, intelligence, and fine moral values. What's not to like.” Darmas flashed another smile at Tial who smirked. Corso just groaned, far from amused with either of them. He knew it was because he was jealous, which was hypocritical at best. He had turned her down (though he'd done it without the best of intentions) and he was pretty sure that precluded him from being mad if she turned her attention elsewhere. Darmas looked at him, lips twitching into a mocking smirk that only grew as Corso glared back. Tial didn't seem to notice, too busy considering the holopad Darmas had handed to her a few moments ago. “This is interesting information. This Kixi, she's another one of Skavak's girlfriends?” Tial tilted her head to the side slightly. “And, on that note, how does he manage to pull so many girls in? Am I missing something?” “Well I can't answer that,” Darmas was smiling again, charm turned all the way up. “But I can tell you that Skavak doesn't...'deal' with alien women, even ones as human as Kixi.” Tial huffed. “I suppose that makes me lucky.” “Or makes him very unlucky.” Corso had to admit, if only in his head, that Darmas was smooth and that line proved it. Too smooth...slimy, really. They left the cantina after Darmas finished filling them in and were looking at a map of the sector, discussing the best way to get to Kixi, the slicer who was apparently helping Skavak out, when they walked past two men engaged in an intense discussion. One was a Human and the other a very distressed looking Nautolan; Corso probably would have noticed them if Tial had suddenly stopped and whipped her head around to stare at them. “Did you say your mate was being forced to dance at a club?” Tial's voice took on a harsh quality Corso hadn't heard before. The Nautolan seemed surprised that someone had been listening to him but got over that quickly. “Yes, yes! The guild kidnapped her and now they're forcing her to dance at their club. I've reported it but of course the authorities are much too busy to pay attention to aliens.” Tial frowned slightly. “It can be hard to be an alien these days.” Corso suddenly felt extremely awkward. He was aware that there were a lot of negative feelings about non-humans even in the Republic and he knew that the more human a person looked the better they were treated. Someone like Tial might go through life with few issues but Twi'leks and Nautolans could be far less lucky, which was why you saw so many of them as dancers these days. “Her name is Ria. If you can find her and help her I would be in debt to you. She's everything to me.” “I'll do it.” The Nautolan, who said his name was Nik, gave them directions to the club, which just happened to be on top of the building they were looking for. They left the alien with a promise to return quickly then headed for the bridge Nik had told them would lead into Guild territory. What they found was a scene straight out of Ord Mantell with Coruscant police forces on one side and what Corso assumed were the gangsters he'd heard so much about on the otherside. “They're having a shoot out in the street!” He couldn't help but be a little excited. “And here I thought Coruscant wouldn't be any fun.” Tial blinked up at him, eyes dancing with amusement. “You're a strange man Riggs.” He smiled down at her, the annoyance from dealing with Darmas draining away. “You seem to like it Captain.” Her expression froze and for a moment he was sure he'd said the wrong thing. He was figuring out a way to smooth it over when finally, she smiled back. “S'pose I do.” With that she moved away from him, turning on her stealth generator and shimmering out of sight.

No one is demanding that anyone do anything and, even if someone were (and they aren't. Simply suggesting that we tell BW how we feel in the only way that companies care about, with our money) and is up to the individual whether they choose to do that or not. No one person (or group of people) is going to make people who don't want to unsub do it, so I think you need to relax. If someone unsubs that is their choice and it's not up to you to demand they A. Don't talk about or B. don't suggest that other people who are unhappy do the same.

0000000000 Chapter Five We Hit a Wall 0000000000 Alaian peered up at the monster in front of him, not sure what to make of it. The thing stared down at him, face a mask of indifference. Maybe. He actually wasn't sure what the monster was trying to convey, if anything. He considered himself good at reading faces, yes, but this was asking for a whole different level of skill. He allowed his vision to shift, the first time he'd done so since his encounter with Spindrall, and was unable to hold back the gasp of awe. It had one of the brightest auras Alaian had ever seen (thought he was aware now that his abilities were lacking and people could hide from his sight) a vortex of blue and black that pulsated out from the monster. It blotted out everything behind him and seemed as if it was swallowing everything it touched. The beast...smiled, but not in a pleasant way; Alaian shifted his vision back, oddly comforted when the world returned to normal. “What are you?” “Ha. All the world conspires to mock me!” The beast laughed again then turned his gaze heavenward. “Tulak Hord! I waited for you, I did everything you said, and this is what you send me? A tiny weak thing with the sight of a child?” Alaian scowled. “I am not weak!” And he was pretty sure he didn't have the sight of a child. He wasn't sure exactly what that was supposed to imply, one way or another, but he didn't like it. “Fate is cruel to me little one, but not as cruel as it is to you. You have made a terrible mistake.” “No.” He shook his head; this was clearly where he was supposed to be and this was the Dashade he was meant to find. “There are the instructions Lord Zash gave me. I am to free you and you will take me to the map in the final chamber of the tomb.” “I am Khem Val, servant of Tulak Hord, who was called Lord of Hate, Master of the Gathering Darkness, Dark Lord of the Sith.” The beast looked down at him again, dark eyes boring through him with the strength of a laser. “Together Tulak Hord and I devoured our enemies at the battles of Yn and Chabosh and brought the entire Dromund System to its knees. And now I await his return.” Alaian hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say to that. He knew his history, loved history actually, and he was all too aware of the power of Tulak Hord, and the devastation the ancient Sith had been able to bring upon his enemies. It was said he had used not only the force, but Fear itself to crush his foes. To be in the presence of one who had fought at his side was certainly...moving. But this wasn't the time for hero worship. “Tulak Hord is dead, Khem Val, and now you will answer to me.” “Ha!” Khem Val's bark of laughter sent a chill up Alaian's spine. You have awakened me, but I will not answer to you. You have made a grave mistake and waking me little Sith, for I hunger and now I will devour you.” Khem Val flexed and, with a outward burst of power, the field around him fell. Khem fell to the ground easily, drawing his weapon as he did. And indeed his eyes looked not only hungry, but also held the promise of pain and death. “Oh.” He could tell that going toe to toe with Khem Val was going to be an exercise in futility so instead he threw out lightning, hoping to burn the beast down before it could reach him. He supposed it was a mark to his credit that Khem Val's progress to him seemed slow. Not nearly slow enough though and, worse than that, it didn't seem to be doing nearly the damage he would have liked. Alaian stopped the stream, knowing he needed to gain more distance before the Dashade was on top of him. Khem Val rushed him and Alaian swallowed a surprised shout as he fell backward. Khem smiled, and Alaian was sure it was a smile this time, apparently thinking that he had won. Alaian thrust his hand forward, making contact with cool smooth skin, and Khem Val reared back with a roar of pain. His body jerked as paralyzing energy ran through him. Alaian slammed his hands onto the ground and the Dashade was thrown away by the shock wave. Khem Val landed on his back, but was back on his feet quickly. Alaian was up as well and once again channeled lightning, pouring all of his fear into it. He had no doubt that if he lost this fight that Khem Val would stay true to his word and devour him and he had no desire to be anyone's meal. Khem was looking at him, eyes glittering viciously, as he once again surged forward. Alaian's mind raced as the beast loomed ever closer. He dropped the channel again, opting for short hard bursts until Khem Val was close enough to swing. Alaian fell back, but could hear the sword cleave the air where he'd just been, and draw his own weapon. He cursed the stupid training saber but used it to parry the next blow anyway, stomach dropping at the sound of metal twisting. The damn thing wasn't meant to repeal the blows from a creature like Khem Val, that much was certain. He threw another shock of power with his free hand then ducked a swing of the Dashade's fist. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid, a head on confrontation. He'd dueled Talaa more than once growing up, test his strength against hers, but Khem Val was a warrior hardened by time who, clearly, knew his craft. He was considering how to get behind the beast when a large hand caught him, landing palm open on his chest and driving all air from him. He bent over, trying to draw into suddenly useless lungs, and couldn't even begin to utter a protest when he found himself pulled in to a bear hug. Khem Val wrapped his arms around him and squeezed and Alaian made a noise he hadn't known he could make until that point. The pain started in his back then radiated towards the front and he swore he could feel his ribs moving, grinding against each other as Khem Val's grip tightened. He coughed, wanting to do something but too busy trying to stop himself from falling headfirst into the blackness creeping over his vision. “You will be the first of many I will devour in the name of my Master!” Alaian would have rolled his eyes in he could. He had know the Dashade for less than fifteen minutes and he was already tired of hearing about Tulak Hord. Not that he wasn't still impressed but Tulak Hord was dead and he...well he wasn't. He brought his head down as hard as he could manage and his vision went completely dark, but he also felt the crushing grip on his body loosen and heard Khem Val let out an annoyed 'oomph'. He could breathe, though painfully. He slammed his head into Khem Val's again, acutely aware of a warm wet trickle blooming on his forehead. He fell and hit the ground none too gently and began to scramble away, willing his vision to clear up. “You're beginning to upset me.” Indeed he sounded pretty furious, but there was also an undertone of pain to the monster's voice. “Good.” He could see again, though his eyes were watery and cloudy with what he was pretty sure was his own blood. Alaian started to rise to his feet shakily but once again found himself in Khem Val's grip. He was hauled up by his neck, much like one would hold a Manka kitten, and lifted so he was once again face to face with the Dashade. Alaian reached out, desperation surging through him. He grabbed at one of the pillars that had, until a few moments ago, been part of the set up to keep Khem Val in stasis. He closed his hand, almost able to feel the smooth metal against his fingers and pulled. Khem didn't seem to notice; the beast drew in a breathe and Alaian saw a wisp of purple most peeling away from him and into Khem Val's mouth. He could feel the effect immediately, a strange empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He grunted, eyes flashing back the pillar that was now free of it's base and more or less firmly in his grip. The pillar was three times Khem Val's size, and heavy, and hit the Dashade hard enough to send them both sprawling. It took a serious effort to not lose the pillar as he hit the ground but he managed to hold on, though it dropped out of sight for a moment. He hauled it back up, hand trembling, and moved it so it was hovering over Khem Val's prone form. “Yield!” He wanted to use the pillar to smash the monster into a fine paste but he still needed that damn map. The look at Ffon's face had better be worth all of this trouble. Khem Val rose to his feet, mouth bloodied. He eyed Alaian then eyed the object twisting above his head, threatening to fall on him at any moment. Finally the Dashade nodded. Alaian sighed and thrust the metal object away, letting it fall into the pit to the side of them. Khem Val snorted, a dark bitter noise. “For now little Sith, you have my loyalty; you have bested me and I am bound to you. My master has been dead many years and I am weak now, but I will be stronger soon. I will feed and I will watch.” Alaian sat down heavily, raking his fingers through his hair. Lovely. He was tempted to use whatever resources he had left to shove Khem Val into the pit as well but, and he had to keep this in mind least he lose it, he still needed him. “We will go for your map. It is guarded by a vicious monster, breed to be resistant to your form of attack.” Of course it was. He looked up at the Dashade, who'd crossed the distance between them and was looming over him in a way that made his stomach flip-flop. He needed to get that map, the sooner the better, but he wasn't ready to get up yet. Instead he leaned forward, resting his chin on his knees. “You were draining my power from me.” “I intended to use your energy to heal myself.” He wondered if Khem Val had a range of emotion beyond rage and indifference. “I devour force users completely, leaving not but bones. Their power, their life force, and their flesh feed my strength.” He pursed his lips, natural curiosity warring against tiredness and caution. “Can you teach me how to do that?” Dark eyes glittered down at him with an emotion Alaian couldn't identify. Then a dark laugh. “Let us retrieve your map.” 00000000000 “Ugh.” Vette's nose wrinkled and she made a retching noise. Talaa chuckled then frowned slightly as she caught sight of what had upset her companion so much. They'd made their way through the tomb and the evidence that her brother had gone ahead of her to complete his own trial alone had been everywhere. The bodies of acolytes who'd failed and now hide in the dark, rather than face their shame and die with some semblance of honor, had littered their path. Vette had remained silent the entire trip, other than muttering about Sith knowing how to throw a party after tripping over one body (an odd comment Talaa hadn't understood), and activated the necessary elements for them to proceed towards the ancient lightsaber. Talaa could understand why this most recent body had moved her to break her silence again. Vemrin, and she knew it was Vemrin because that stupid haircut was far from common, was in the middle of the chamber, body pale and oddly bloated. He was face down in a puddle of thick brown, slightly foamy, sludge. Worse of all was the smell he was emitting; a sickly sweet odor like rotting fruit. Talaa frowned, oddly hungry. She shook the feeling away, instead focusing on the disappointment at now having been able to kill the man herself. Still, dead was dead and as long as he was out of the way she supposed it wasn't overly important how it had happened or who had done it. “And...there.” Vette had, it seemed, gotten over her sudden bout of sickness and gotten back to work. Talaa looked up, watching as a section of the far wall slide apart to reveal yet another chamber. Vette dusted off her hands then placed her hand on her hips, beaming back at Talaa. “Not bad, huh?” Talaa had decided rather quickly that she didn't mind the other girl. She'd given her jailor endless amounts of attitude, seemingly unconcerned about her precarious situation as a prisoner in the Sith Academy, but hadn't fought with Talaa at all. She could respect the fiery streak in the other woman and also appreciate that she hadn't seen fit to take out the anger she was surely feeling on her. Talaa, being of the lower caste, had never believed that just because one was a slave or an alien or looked down upon didn't mean they had to accept their fate mutely. She certainly wasn't going to let being of low birth stop her. The chamber was lined with statues carved into male humanoid firms and the strange crawling feeling of being watched came over Talaa. She frowned slightly then shoved it aside; what in the world could possibly be watching her in this place? Vemrin wasn't going to be bothering her anytime soon and anything that may have been in this chamber had died long ago. It was simply the atmosphere of the place trying to affect her mind, playing tricks on her perception. She wouldn't allow it. “Creepy.” Vette's voice echoed in the chamber and the purple firelight caused strange shadows across her face. “Still, my best work I think. Not every day you get to manage something generations of Sith couldn't.” “It is very impressive Vette.” Talaa agreed, smiling at her companions thunderstruck expression. “Aside from the part where you got caught, hauled to academy, and had a slave collar put on you, of course.” They were past the statues now and all that laid before them was a sarcophagus on a raised alter. More torches burned around it, with the same purple fire as the ones lining the chamber. A chill fell over Talaa. “...Did you just make a joke?” “It's possible. I have a very advanced sense of humor.” Talaa said, but her attention wasn't really on Vette. She rolled her shoulders, trying to dispel some of then tension that was forming there, then ascended the alter. There was a skeleton in the sarcophagus , clad in tatters of fabric that may have once been the traditional burial dress. The fleshless skull seemed to be smiling at her but she found her gaze quickly drawn elsewhere. A lightsaber hilt, a basic straight design with little ornamentation, made for function and not beauty, was tucked away with the skeleton. She reached her hand out and the hilt trembled from rising into the air, metal gleaming in the firelight. It found its way to her and, as she closed her hand around it, she could feel the soft thrum of it's power. She smiled then powered it up; the 'swoosh' of it coming to life sending a thrill through her body. It was light in comparison to the warblade, but she could feel the power and darkness in it. This blade had already tasted blood and now that it was in her hands it would taste more. She'd been known on Dathomir for her dueling ability, with one blade and two as well as exhibiting some ability with a pike, and she'd left many an arrogant idiot nursing a bruised ego. Every time she'd picked up a weapon she'd imagined it was a lightsaber and now, finally, it was. A freezing blew past, ruffling hair as one on the alter winked out, sending dark smoke into the air. It hovered for a moment then began to move with purpose towards the statues. Talaa frowned. “We should go.” Vette pivoted on her heel, not needing to be told twice. The Twi'lek was faster than Talaa would have expected, but she had a feeling that was for the better. The torches were going out as they ran, each one extinguishing faster than the one before. She could hear cracking, like the breaking of stone, behind her but she didn't stop to see what it was. Vette cleared the door first then turned, eyes widening at whatever was behind her. Then she ducked to the side, out of sight. Something swiped at Talaa from behind and she felt thick fingers just miss the back of her neck. She half-fell half-rolled out of the chamber, but was on her feet fast. She gripped the weapon in her hand, realizing suddenly that she couldn't well keep running. She turned, powering the lightsaber back up, and looked at what was chasing her. There was a horde of dark faceless figures, at least twenty, on the threshold of the chamber, and they were all reaching for her. The one who had nearly grabbed her now laid on the floor, the upper part of it's body out of the chamber, a large smoking hole in the back of it's skull. “I'm trying to shut the door!” Vette's voice was panicked and breathless. Talaa nodded tightly. She wasn't sure shutting the door would do much good at this point but, on the upside, she didn't think they'd be able to fit through more than 2 or 3 at a time, which would keep her from being utterly swarmed. A jet of purple lightning crashed into the group, felling another one of her would-be-attackers, and Talaa could feel the cool presence of her brother tickling the back of her mind. She smiled. 0000000000 Vette wasn't sure what to make of the latest turn of events. One minute she'd been trying to force the mechanism in the monument back into it's original position to shut the doors on the advancing group and the next Talaa had been ordering her to leave it and shoot. The Sith, her new 'master', had went flying into the pack, followed by some vicious looking monster. Another Sith, this one a male Pureblood, had come to stand next to Vette, offering a hand to bring her to her feet. She'd taken his hand, momentarily surprised by how frigid the man's skin was, and once she was on her feet he'd turned to join the fray. Vette had stayed back, choosing her shots, and placing blaster bolts between where she imagined the eyes would be on those things, if they'd had anything resembling eyes. Talaa spun and danced her way through the horde, dodging attacks effortlessly while laying waste to anything that got into reach of her saber. The other Sith didn't draw his weapon at all, standing close to Talaa and sending streams of purple from his fingertips. They worked around each other as they'd always worked that way, Talaa never coming close to watching him with her blade or fists, and he never seemed in danger of hurting her either, lightning arcing all around her but never touching. It was terrible but almost...beautiful at the same time. And when it was over and a pile of bodies, at least twenty, lay at their feet, Talaa bumped her shoulder against the man's and flashed him an almost sweet smile. He reached out, tucking some of the hair that had escaped Talaa's ponytail back behind her ear. Vette wasn't sure what to make of the display; Talaa was already challenging everything she'd thought she'd known about the 'cruel shadowy figures' who ran the Empire, and after being interrogated, tortured, and then put on display in a cage like an animal, Vette thought she was in a pretty good position to judge them. But this woman, with her easy compliments and 'advanced sense of humor', had proved to be a surprise from the moment she'd had the jailor release Vette from her cage. She hadn't shocked Vette, hadn't even seemed like the thought had entered her mind, and even seemed to appreciate her help.. She'd even kind of hoped for a chance to shoot the woman in the back of the head and run, but at this point she didn't think she could. It'd be a total scumbag move and Vette was a lot of things, but she wasn't scum. “Vette!” Talaa was walking to her, the man and the monster in tow. Vette holstered her blasters, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea. “This is my brother Alaian and his...” “I am Khem Val, servant of Tulak Hord.” The thing said. Vette arched an eyebrow; she was pretty sure Tulak Hord had been dead for a very very long time. “Lain, Vette helped me get my lightsaber.” Talaa continued as if nothing strange had been said. Alaian shoved his hood back, revealing an attractive Pureblood. He resembled Talaa to a degree, sharing the same dark almond shaped eyes, full lips, and thin nose, but she may not have guessed brother without being told. His face was sharp and angular, ridges a little more pronounced and he was built smaller. Talaa's face was round and pretty, features softer. Vette smiled, never one to let an opportunity to charm a cute man pass. “Nice to meet you Alaian.” She may have sidled up to his side and batted her eyes for effect. She could do subtle flirting of course, Vette was a woman of many talents, but when one was wearing a slave collar there wasn't much point to playing hard-to-get. He eyed her critically then frowned at his sister. “Doesn't look like you gave her much choice in helping you.” Another surprise! A Sith who didn't approve of slavery? What next, hand holding and singing songs around a pile of burning bodies? Talaa pouted. “I didn't put that thing on her.” The thing, a hulking monster with a row of dagger sharp teeth in it's mouth, grunted. “Enough talking, Little Sith. You promised I could devour the one you call Ffon once you return this map to your master.” “Right.” Alaian smiled darkly, a total shift from the affectionate look he'd graced Talaa with before. “I'd hate to keep Ffon waiting.”

00000000000 Chapter Two Across the Great Divide 00000000000 “Warning Warning! All hands brace for impact!” Tial didn't get a chance to do the seething she'd wanted to do, as the moment she entered the room Tymar had gotten set aside for her the whole ship shook and she found herself falling face first onto the floor. She laid there for a moment, contemplating the state of her life, then pushed herself up. Backtracking through the halls, pushing through confused and panicking civilians, found her in the ships lounge just as her sister and brother finished talking to a Twi'lek. Corso was with them but broke away as soon as she entered the room. “What's going on?” “You're bleeding.” Corso reached for her, large hands finding their way to either side of her face. He had her look up at him, presumably so he could get a better angle. She would have pulled away, this was the third time he'd put his hands on her without her permission, but she found that Corso's hand on her skin wasn't totally unpleasant. “I'm not sure. Tymar and Leta are going up to the bridge to find out.” Tial closed her eyes, wondering what unfortunate twist of luck had landed her with such do-gooders as siblings. Truly Fate was cruel. When she opened her eyes she found that Corso's eyebrows were furrowed in concern; her stomach twisted and she turned her gaze to the wall behind his head. He confused her and she didn't like it. He accepted violence almost casually but has lost his **** when she'd killed the woman who would have, without a doubt, done the same to them if the situation was reversed. He touched her casually and his hands were warm and calloused and something inside of her fluttered when he got close. She could identify lust easily enough, she was more familiar with what lust could drive people to do than she wanted to be, and so she could state confidently that while she was attracted to Corso there was more than that going on. It was strange, and she didn't like strange. “It's not bad.” He said finally and let her go. She touched the area that only now felt sore, frowning when her hands did indeed come away stained with her own blood. She reached into her pack and pulled out the modified diagnostic scanner she'd gotten from Lefty. Tial aimed it at herself then flipped the switch, smiling when a green beam ran it's way over her, leaving a light mist of kolto in the air. She'd been half-afraid it wouldn't work (After all liberated military tech wasn't known for reliablity) but it seemed she'd been worried for nothing. Corso made an impressed noise. “Nice toy.” She slide it into the empty spot on her holster (she'd “Tial!” Leta was in full-on solider mode, as Tial liked to call it. “We may need your guns. Come make yourself useful.” She must have looked like she was about to refuse before Tymar leveled a look at her and she could feel the flutter of disappointment in the back of her mind, light as a bug's wings but very much there. She hated that almost as much as she hated the strange way Corso was making her feel. She knew it was a force thing, as she was considered to have a 'moderate level of Force sensitivity'. She would never be able to float objects or trick people into obeying her, which would have been a useful trick in her line of work, but it was enough to form a weird mental bond with her older brother. Or it had been. It was strange to feel what could only be her brother stirring in the back of her mind. When he'd pushed her away all those years ago the link between them had atrophied and died, driving Tial to a month long bender in an attempt to chase away the pain the severing caused. In time she'd learned to live with it, learned to enjoy not having the constant long-suffering presence with her at all times. But here they were once again and she could almost imagine a bridge between them being rebuilt. It ached a little, right behind her eyes. “Fine.” Corso looked pleased with her response and, muttering under her breathe, she followed the odd looking procession though the blasted open door. There were small fires along the hallways and a few people sprawled around, dazed and bleeding. “An Imperial Warship is following us.” Tymar stated as they rounded the first corner, just as another explosion rocked the ship. “Pissing off Sith already?” Tial couldn't keep the accusing tone to herself. “It's a little early in your career to be getting people killed isn't it?” The question went unanswered, as a collection of large battle droids came into sight, loping towards them with obvious intent. The Trandoshan raced forward, moving with unnatural speed, as Tymar gestured with his hand. One of the droids went up, twisting uselessly in the air. Tial breathed out, steeling herself, then sprang to action, blaster in hand as she rolled into cover. Everything slowed down and blurred around her while at the same time the people around her were sharpened. She saw Corso standing in front of her, as if to shield her, and Leta charging in after the Trandoshan, saying things that were muffled to Tial's ears. She drew in a breath then aimed, letting it out slowly, and fired. She liked a good fight, and took them however she could get them. She lived for the surge of adrenaline and the way all of the stress seemed to drain from her body. She lived for the fight, the rush, and the feeling she got when she looked out into space and realized how small she really was. Tymar had the Jedi Code and Leta had her Rules and Regulations, but Tial had her blaster and a ship to call her own, and it was enough. The floating droid came down with a thud, the sound of twisting metal making her cringe. She peered over the box she was crouched over but it seemed well and truly destroyed. She looked at her brother, who seemed pale and had sweat dotting his brow. As if sensing her gaze, and who was to say he hadn't, he shrugged. “It's harder than it looks.” She didn't care for the 'Force' or those who used it, to her they seemed to think themselves above those who had to get by in life without 'magical powers', but she supposed if she'd even seen any looking as...mortal as Tymar did now she'd be less scornful. 0000000000 Leta supported her sister's weight, frowning at the Sith standing before them nervously. This kind of crap was way above her pay grade and, at least as it stood. She wasn't adverse to fighting alongside a Jedi in battle against the Empire, but this wasn't exactly what was going on here. Things had started mildly enough, a few battle droids, and progressed into a serious incident and violation of the Treaty. With proper forces and weapons she would be game for this kind of thing, but taking by surprise like this she was out of her depth. She wasn't known for her improvisation skills, sadly. She'd even had a commanding officer tell her she lacked 'imagination' and that it would probably begin to hold her back eventually. It hadn't happened yet, but now she was beginning to become concerned. Still they'd managed to put down Ironfist (what a terrible terrible name), a few insane droids, spent a little time climbing through garbage, and now it seemed like they might even get back off this Imperial ship alive except...Sith. He's tossed the Ambassador around for a moment then had focused on Tymar, apparently excited at the prospect of dealing with a Jedi. He seemed unconcerned with the rest of them, which was fine by Leta. She as bone tired and she was almost positive she'd twisted her ankle while pipe jumping. The side of Tial's face was an angry red and starting to blister, due to a close call with some missiles, but everyone else seemed none the worse for wear. “Finally, a challenge.” The Sith smiled, lips unnaturally dark against his deathly pale skin. Then, almost faster than Leta could track, his saber flashed out, arcing towards Tymar. Qyzen moved, bodily shielding the Jedi, and his shield generator fired up to absorb the blow, then flickered, signaling it was out of power. The saber returned to it's wielder, who's smile had grown big and toothy. “This doesn't have to end in violence.” Tymar said, voice soft. The Sith trust a hand out and Leta found herself being ripped away from her sister and thrown back, hitting a wall hard enough to make her vision go hazy. Fingers wrapped themselves around her neck, cutting off her air, and she reached out to pry them away but found nothing there. Black spots began to dot her vision. Utterly above her pay grade. “No!” There was a loud rattling then a scrapping, like metal over metal, and then she was sliding down the wall, pressure on her neck released. She could see flashes of purple through her dim vision and hear the sounds of blasters firing, but it was hard to summon the desire to move. Still, she was against the idea of dying while sitting on her ***. Leta drew in a painful breath, wondering how much damage had been done to her throat, and pushed herself to her knees then groaned, clutching her head as a wave of dizziness washed over her. She considered falling over but dismissed the idea. She didn't fail. She never had before and she wasn't going to start now. A hand touched her shoulder and she peered up through watery eyes to see Jorgan looking down at her. He helped her up, a gleam of something that may have been respect in his eyes. She would have spoken, thanked him, but Leta was pretty sure that speaking would result in vomiting. She shook her head again, pain radiating from her neck then charged in. The Sith was ignoring her, attention on Corso and Qyzen, who were steadfastly protecting her siblings. Tial was unmoving on the ground and Tymar was sending waves of energy out at impressive speeds. She brought her rifle butt down on the back of the Sith's head, insides leaping at the very satisfying grunt he let out. No matter what else happened, she had to admit that...felt extremely good. 0000000000 Tymar slumped against the wall and put a hand to his head, unable to stop the pain that rushed over him. Leta, who'd exited the shuttle last, saw and started to come towards him but he waved her off, unsure if he was opposed to her comfort because Jedi didn't need comfort or because he was sickened by her actions. He need a moment to breath, to focus, and let go of these emotions. “What's wrong?” She hovered just out of reach, an awkwardly concerned expression on her face. Qyzen grunted. “All death hurts healing Jedi.” Leta looked at the Trandoshan then back at Tymar. “I'm sorry Ty. I didn't know.” “I'm fine!” He snapped, taking a small amount of delight when she jerked back in surprise. He needed to calm himself. “You just sent a group of innocent men to their deaths. You left the Ambassador behind to die. Do you not care at all?” “Of course I care, but sometimes sacrifice is needed.” She looked offended, but Tymar couldn't see how she could be. She had, after all, without so much as consulting with them, opened the airlock and sent the engineering crew to their deaths. Tymar had been reaching out, trying to use the force to calm the men. Having their lives suddenly placed in the hands of three people they didn't know had caused panic among the crew and justifiably so it seemed. Having their lives abruptly ended had caused him something like physical pain. The ambassador was even worse; she was still alive but her fear was gnawing at his stomach and threatening to eat him alive. It lessened as they got further away, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to force himself to shut her out completely. He needed to, he knew he was only torturing himself by continuing to reach out to her, but he hated to leave her totally 'alone'. “We should get back to the deck.” Leta turned away from him, mask of the cold solider sliding over his little sister's face. “We'll need to inform the captain of what has happened and the unfortunate loss of the ambassador.” Tymar shook his head, eyes darting over to Tial. She was still unconscious and in the arms of the human traveling with her. “I think I'll sit this out.” “Do what you want. I don't need civilians for this anyway.” And with that Leta was walking out of the hanger, the Cathar as her heels. “Civilians.” Corso muttered. “I didn't feel like a civilian when that Sith was tossing his saber around.” Tymar closed his eyes, silently agreeing with the man but at the same time not wanting to feel the bitterness Leta's tone invoked in him. Already he was regretting leaving Tython, and coming across Tial and Leta, Tial especially. He'd cut off contact with his when he'd decided to go into the healing arts. She was a constant uncontrollable presence in his mind, always there because of the connection they shared. She'd made made his attempts to achieve peace fail and so she'd tainted all of the healing he'd tried to do. His teacher at the time had sensed his issue and told him that the best option was to cut her out of his life and focus his energies on severing the line between them. He had done just that and it had been a long and painful process, made worse because he could feel his sister's confusion and suffering, but when it had been done he'd excelled in his training. But now, so close to her, he could feel the connection repairing itself and surging to life. He had felt tickles of her pain and fear throughout their 'mission' and it had played hell on his emotions. He'd felt worry for her and worse than that, he'd given into rage. When he'd seen Leta go flying into the wall and Tial collapse without their younger sisters support he'd lost his careful grip. He'd ripped an entire computer terminal from it's place and slammed it into the Sith and had been disappointed when the man had survived. He wasn't ready. He'd been worried he wasn't ready and now he knew it. In the temple he was protected from the negative emotions and actions of others and more importantly he was protected from his family. He could see his failure laid out before him and knew he had left far too soon. Events had pushed him out and demanded his reemergence into the world faster than would normally happen. He wasn't ready. Not even close. The image of his master, shrunken and pale on the floor, sent a shiver up his spine. Unready, but also unable to return until he's saved Master Par. “Tia.” He cracked his eyes open. Corso looked up, shifting the woman's weight in his arms. He was holding her bride style and looking increasingly awkward as he did. “Bring her here. I can heal the damage.” Corso looked skeptical. “No offense, but you look like you're about to pass out yourself.” Tymar sighed then put a hand to his head and forced his thoughts to slow. He focused on his own heart beat, closing his eyes as he did, matching his breathing to it. He could feel the force around him and reached out for it, blanketing himself in it's power and willing it to seep into his body. “I can do it.” He felt Corso moving closer but his attention was on his . He could see her in his minds eyes, saw her body as energy instead of flesh, and could see where her wounds affected the energies flow. Yes, he could do this. He opened his eyes, watching as Corso carefully lowered Tial to the ground then sat himself to keep her head from resting on the ground. Tymar noted the care the human put into his actions and almost smiled. “You could drive a Jedi do drink.” He said softly, knowing how delighted she'd be by that if she was awake. He but his hands over her face, focusing on the burns there. He felt a warmth inside of him and reached for it with his mind then guided it outwards with his hands. A golden glow surrounded his sister and slowly, so slowly he began to worry that he wouldn't be able to do it, the burns and blistered skin began to melt away. Her wrist was also hurt, broken maybe, but that too began to heal. He let his hands drop to his sides when he was sure he'd managed to heal everything he could. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, sure he could have slept for a week and still been tired after all of this. It seemed like ever since landing on Tython he'd been forced to push himself to the limits of what he could do and it was taking it's toll on him. Corso was eying him with equal amounts awe and wariness, undoubtedly as uneasy around force users as Tial claimed to be. “Are you okay? You look tired.” He said nothing and instead leaned back against the wall. He still had a lot to learn, a lot work to do to become a true healer, or even a competent Jedi. Everything took so much effort, but this time a year ago healing more than a scrapped knee had seemed impossible. He would get better; he had to. Master Par's life may have very well been resting in his hands, and he wouldn't allow himself to fail her. 0000000000 I am aware that it is a lot of characters right off the bat but after this chapter the focus does narrow to Tial and Corso. The purpose of the first two chapters is to let you see Tymar and Leta's point of view so that when they appear later/I get bored and write little one shots for them the readers can go "Oh right, I remember them!' and not "Who the hell are these people?"

....Yes, exactly. I'm glad we're on the same page. At least, I think we're on the same page. I detect some anger in your comment.

00000000000 Chapter One But I Move Too Fast 00000000000 Leta Chraya knew she was there a day before actually speaking to her. She glimpsed her for a moment and nearly tripped on her feet trying to crane her neck around to get a better look. It had only been a brief glance but she knew it was her and it had taken a serious effort to not go after her and demand to know what she was even doing on Ord Mantell. Instead she'd gone about her mission, hoping that they wouldn't cross paths and she could put it out of her mind. It went well, until she was leaving the planet. She heard her before she saw her, and wasn't surprised to see the older woman, pistol drawn and crouched behind a cargo box when she rounded the corner. “Sorry boys, I don't fly cargo. You'll have to tell Rogun to come visit me.” Leta sighed loudly, drawing the attention of the three men in the room, one human and two aliens, before drawing her side arm. The woman in cover smiled widely then made a motion towards the lone human male. Leta nodded her understanding. “Sir?” Aric said, clearly hesitant. “You're under arrest. Hands up.” Leta said, tone firm. The aliens exchanged glances then, as Leta had expected, reached for their own weapons. The human male reacted fast, cracking the taller alien once across the face with his rifle and then again in the back of the neck. Once the alien was down the man fired. The second alien pivoted on his feet, rolling into cover. The human male scowled and followed, though at a much more subdued pace. The small alien fired, but his bolts were absorbed by the human's shield generator. Leta started to follow but the older woman held up a hand to stop her. “Don't bother. He needs to let off a little steam anyway.” “I wouldn't need to let off steam if you hadn't shot Syreena!” “She would have done the same.” The woman said, hand going to her hip. “You can't let people off with murder just because they have breasts!” “What? No!” The human reached over and dragged the alien up by his shirt, batting the blaster away with obvious frustration. “You should do it because you don't want to stoop to their level.” She sighed then waved a hand dismissively. There was an awkward moment where Leta watched the human, who seemed to be about her age and a native of the planet if the thick drawl was any indication, shake the small alien senseless while ranting about the degradation of morals in society. “I was raised to not shoot women! You open doors and pull out chairs for them, not threaten to haul them off to be killed by a guy named 'The Butcher'.” With that he dropped the alien and shook his head. “It's just uncivilized. What is the world coming to, really, when two men show up to take on one little woman?” The alien whimpered, whatever courage he had vanished. Leta didn't know if it was the barrel pressed against his skull or the incensed human yelling at him, but either way she could see where he was coming from. “Now. Tell the captain here how to get into contact with Rogun.” Some more whimpering and then an insistence that he was supposed to take Tial (alive or dead) and receive instruction later. “I see. Captain?” “Let him go.” The woman muttered, frowning. “We wouldn't want to upset these fine soldiers here.” “Your sarcasm is noted Tial.” Leta said, rolling her eyes. Aric cleared his throat quietly and she glanced at him. Introductions were probably in order, since her new companion was undoubtedly even more confused than she was. “Sergeant Aric Jorgan this is my sister, Tial Chraya.” Tial tore herself from the human, who seemed a good deal calmer than he had before, and turned sparking violet eyes on Aric. She looked him over in a disgustingly obvious manner then smiled in the slow sultry way that had always had men falling at her feet. The human made a noise of alarm. Aric swallowed and color rose to his face. “Tial.” Leta's tone was sharp, but not loud, and as a side effect made the Cathar turn his full attention back to her, a touch of embarrassment showing on his face. She rubbed at the bridge of her nose then smiled at the human.“Lieutenant Leta Chraya.” Tial laughed then winked at Aric who continued to stare at Leta with the single minded determination she'd come to expect from him in their short time together. “Corso Riggs. It's nice to meet you ma'am.” Corso held out a hand and she took it, not at all surprised by the firm grip or calloused hands. He smiled brilliantly and Leta was certain that if he'd had a hat he would have tipped it at her. She couldn't help but returning his smile with a smaller, but genuine, one of her own. Then back to Tial, once again all business. There was no other way of dealing with her sister, sadly. “Heading back to your ship?” All traces of humor left the older woman's face. “No. Some scum sucking soon to be dead man stole it. I'm on my way to the Capital to find him and pry the starter from his cold dead hands.” “Have you reported it stolen?” Leta asked with more than a small amount of irony. If looks could kill Tial would have, at the very least, done some very serious bodily harm to her. After all, odds were Tial had stolen it herself at some point. Leta was painfully aware that her sister operated on the other side of the law and in this one area she allowed her military sensibilities to take a back seat. She had, once, tried to arrest the other woman and get her on the 'straight and narrow' but in the end she'd simply been more trouble than she was worth. Leta had pulled the strings, and risked her career, to have all matters concerning her sister placed in her hands. Tial kept her dealings from hurting the Republic and often feed her the sort of information someone doing legitimate work would never have access to, and so far it worked out. Leta had, on more than one occasion, managed to achieve things with the information that her sister provided her and so her career had been moving along swiftly, culminating here, as the new leader of Havoc Squad. Not that being the new leader of Havoc Squad had been what she'd expected when she'd landed on this rock, but she wasn't going to lie and say she wasn't pleased. “You can tell me all about it on the shuttle.” She wound an arm around Tial's shoulders. Her older sister hesitated for a moment then nodded, allowing herself to guided towards the shuttle. 00000000000 Corso leaned against the bar, opting to not sit and instead look out on the people milling around him. The station was busy, being a hub for all Republic transit, and people of all races and walks of life were crammed in to the brim. He wasn't the backwoods farm boy most people would assume and had seen his share of death and fighting, but things like this were still humbling. Tial had spent most of the shuttle ride with her sister, swapping stories of what they had been up since they'd last seen each other. Leta had kept a lot of things back, just smiling serenely and claiming it was 'classified' while Tial had gleefully recounted tales of mayhem and blaster fire. Corso had used the time to look over the women, unsure if he would had assumed they were sisters without being told. They shared some similarities; dark green skin and had the same tattoos under their eyes and down the middle of their forehead; a series of triangles arranged together to form a bar. Full lips, pale purple eyes and round faces. Tial was, and Corso was embarrassed to be so acutely aware of it, soft and curvy in a way that a man just couldn't ignore, even if he was trying to think of her in a purely professional manner. When she'd walked off of her ship and into Skavak's hanger it happen taken effort to not stare. Her hair, a brownish-red, was about shoulder length and was swept in a way to hide the tattoos on her forehead. Leta was younger, or so Tial had indicated during the trip, but her black hair, pulled back into a tight tail, was going gray already. She had a more muscular and less curvy build, wore no makeup, and a air about her that juts screamed 'military'. Even if Corso had met her out of uniform he would have known she was an officer. Upon reaching Carrick Lt. Chraya had excused herself, saying something about training, and Tial had gone to see a man she knew about supplies. She'd left Corso at the bar and had only just returned, a second blaster holstered on her hip and a shotgun slung over her back. She'd handed him pack, which a quick glance told him contained a blaster and gear. “Can you believe the nerve of that guy? Tried to tell me I had to choose to use two blasters or a shotgun.” She past him, body brushing against his carelessly. “Claimed that I didn't look like I had the 'stamina' to keep up with all this equipment. Like he knows me. I'll show him stamina.” She paused, drink mere inches from her lips and turned around, just missing the disbelieving look Corso had been giving her back. “You want a drink? ...Are you old enough to drink?” “I'm old enough to do lots of things.” The words were out before Corso had a chance to stop them and he regretted them immediately. “That's not what I mean. I mean it is what I mean but not in a...weird way.” The rest of the 'Corso tries to dig himself out a hole' spiel was cut off by the beeping of Tial's holo. She laid one last amused look on him then turned it on, revealing the terse face of her sister. “I need you to come up to departures. Now.” Tial nodded minutely then shoved the holo back into her own pack. The drink was handed to Corso who, lacking any further ideas, downed it. Tial hailed the bartender again and paid then gestured for Corso to follow her. “So, Captain-” “You can call me Tial, kid.” He decided to not even acknowledge she had spoken. He supposed he liked her well enough, and certainly didn't mind looking at her for whatever that was worth, but he was far from comfortable with her. She wasn't like the girls on Ord Mantell. Not even close. “How does a straight shooter like your sister end up with a sister like you?” Tial let out a bark of laughter then ran her fingers through her hair, laughter still playing in her eyes. “It's a long story. I may be inclined to tell it to you one day, if you play your cards right.” Corso was curious, but not enough to push the issue. The rest of the short trip to departures was in silence, though he did notice a few male heads turning to watch his new 'boss' go by and more than one disbelieving look laid on him. He could tell that working with her was going to be an interesting endeavor, if nothing else. They stepped off the elevator and he could see Leta standing next to a robe clad Mirialan. Leta spotted them and rose a hand to gesture them over. Tial let out what sounded like a long suffering sigh then weaved her way through the stream of people intending to board the ship leaving from the hanger they were in. “Corso Riggs, this is Jedi Tymar Chraya.” Leta inclined her head at the robbed figure, who offered a hand to Corso. He was a bit shorter and thinner than Corso was, but his grip was strong. He shared the facial features of the women, though his face was more narrow and sharp, and Tial's reddish hair, which was also worn long and swept across the forehead. “Our brother. He's on his way to the Capital from the Tython.” “It's a damn reunion.” Tial muttered, ignoring the scathing look Leta sent her way. Tymar smiled placidly. “All done at the Jedi Academy Ty? It's been almost 5 years since you've so much as sent a letter, I was afraid you'd gone off to commune with the darkside or something.” This earned her a frown. “What a terrible suggestion Tial. I have finished my trials and now I'm on my way to the capital. My master has fallen ill and I need to look into helping her get well.” His frown deepened. “Leta tells me your ship was stolen and now you intend to kill a man.” “Did she tell you that?” The anger literally dripped from Tial's words and Corso was willing to swear that the temperature around them dropped a few degrees. Corso, suddenly worried that she was going to do something to this man, (Her brother and apparent Jedi.) put a hand on her shoulder. She started, as if surprised by the contact then let out a slow breath. Tymar turned his gaze, pale purple eyes so like Tial and Leta's but shining with a strange kind of calming light, to Corso. “You must be Tial's latest unfortunate conquest.” “Not...to my knowledge.” He hesitated for a moment then added. “Not that I would turn down an offer, it just hasn't been made.” Tymar seemed scandalized by the very notion. “I must insist you do just that. I sense much anger in you and the potential for great darkness. You should let go of your hatred towards those that have wronged you before you find yourself on a path you can't turn away from, much as my Tial has. You know she spent time at the military academy before her lusts called her away?” Tial's hand was on her blaster and pulling it out. Corso grabbed her wrist and Leta, who'd been practically choking on her laughter the whole time, moved to intercede. “Master Jedi.” The man who'd been leading people into the airlock approached them, taking a moment to eye Tial's weapon distastefully. “The private suites you requested for your guests are available and your Trandoshan and Cathar friends have checked the rooms to their satisfaction. You may all board now.” Tymar nodded and the man turned to leave them, clearly not impressed with the 'Master Jedi's' choice of companions. “Tia-” Leta started, hand raised as if that would stop any further issues. “Don't you 'Tia' me.” Tial groused before pulling free of Corso, shooting a poisonous glare up at him, and stomping away to board. “I suppose you have another brother who's a Bounty Hunter and will be showing up soon." Leta chuckled and clapped Corso on the shoulder; surprising him with the strength in her small body. “Of course not! It's just us now. I guess it is strange that we're all here at the same time though.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “It's fate.” Tymar said, eyes serious. “If we have been brought together it is because the Force has willed it.” With that said the Jedi walked away, robes billowing after him dramatically. “...I'm honestly not sure if he means that or if he's just screwing with us.”

Hot on my Heels Characters: Various from the smuggler, trooper, and Jedi Consular story quests. Pairings: Fem!Smuggler/Corso Riggs, Fem!Trooper/Elara Dorne. Male!Consular/The Jedi Code. Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance, Drama, and Sci-Fi. Notes: This story is mostly Smuggler centric, but does feature the Trooper and Consular as main characters, as well as the various companions, and probably a Jedi Knight at some point. I always find the manner that the four story lines basically get smashed together after the starter planets to be amusing, hence the 'Hey you guys, look who's here? No wai!' aspect of the story. It did occur to me that the humor might be lost, hence this explanation. Expect lots of “How strange that there is a superweapon on this planet where a Jedi is also going insane and a strange delivery needs to made?!”. Warnings: Language, Racism, mentions of past slavery/abuse, lesbianism, and a handful of deeply dysfunctional people. Summery: Tial Chraya is a lot of things: Loud, a crackshot, smart mouthed, and full of attitude. But now, shipless and reunited with the siblings she likes to pretend don't exist, she's forced to reevaluate her life. 000000 Cast 000000 Tial Chraya: 25, smuggler. Has a serious chip on her shoulder and tries to cover it up with jokes and tight shirts. Good with a blaster and a shotgun, and learning the ropes with this whole patching people up thing. Force sensitive, in that someone once told her unnatural luckiness is force related. She remains skeptical. Spent a year at the military academy before running off to become a pirate. It didn't...go as well as she had hoped. Leta Chraya: 21, trooper, recently promoted to leader of Havoc Squad. Generally believes in duty before personal feelings, expect where her family is concerned. About as force sensitive as a rock. In fact rocks may be more force sensitive. She's used to being the best at everything she does but it seems like she's always in the shadow of her siblings no matter what she does. Tial makes trouble and Tymar is a Jedi and she...she's just a solider. Tymar Chraya: 26, Sage. The oldest of the Chraya children, maybe sporting a chip even bigger than Tial's, but is less prone to show it. He's been working on suppressing emotion for years but the more time he spends with his sisters the harder it becomes. He used to be close with Tial but they seemed to have something like a psychic bond (perhaps a result of Tial's low level sensitivity) so he had to cut her out completely to move further in his training. 0000000 Title is shamelessly stolen from 'Heartbreak' by Sarah McLachlan. "Before the night comes, before the city sleeps I walk a lonely mile I know you're out there I know you're waiting for me to make a sign I know you'd like me to go and crumble Reveal myself to you I lost a wing and grew a shell on the wound Oh so soon And heartbreak no you can't catch me Hot on my heels but I move too fast I know you think that I would make good company, at last"