If even Sith!Quinn thinks this Quinn is evil... That's some serious evil. And now he gets his just desserts. Iriath - Corellia (3/3) Quinn sat straight-backed on a crate in the cargo bay and waited for death. He knew it would come for him eventually. He had failed, and so he would die. That was the way life worked in the Empire. The door slid open, and Pierce ushered in a man dressed in a long, black armored jacket that had seen considerable wear and tear. A silver droid with feminine proportions lurked just outside in the hall. The man moved forward, eyeing him warily. "Hello, Quinn," Pierce said, dislike clearly evident in his voice. "This is Major Iriath. That surname ring any bells?" Quinn was no fool. Of course he recognized the name. He recognized the face, too—he'd researched Tessa's background extensively in preparation for his mission. A dead Sith mother, and an Imperial soldier father who'd been transferred to Intelligence. And now the latter was standing before him. According to the file, he was only four years Quinn's senior, though he looked older. His hair was completely gray, and he had a number of small scars on his face that hadn't been present in the image on record. There was also a subtle air of weariness to him that no image could properly convey. He had jade-green eyes that were exactly the same color as Tessa's, but there was a venom in those eyes that she could never have mustered. He had no doubt that this man was here to kill him. Tessa must have told him everything. "On your feet, Captain," Iriath ordered. Quinn silently slid down from the crate and stood at attention. He was a few inches taller than the soldier-turned-agent. "Do you know who I am?" Iriath asked. "According to Imperial military records, you are Lord Vrintessia's father," Quinn replied, meeting his eyes calmly. "That's right," Iriath said softly. "She told me everything, Quinn. She told me what you did to her." "I have no regrets," Quinn said blithely. "I acted in the best interests of the Empire." There was no point in resisting. Better to get it over with. "So this was all just a mission?" "I should think that you of all people would understand that," Quinn murmured. "You are an Intelligence agent, after all." "Yes," Iriath said quietly after a moment, startling him. "I do understand. That's the strangest part of all of this. That when it all comes down to it, you and I are not so different after all. We're patriots. Soldiers. We do what we're told and we don't question the morality of it, lest we go mad from the futility of it all. "What's the difference between what you've done and what I've done? Not much, really, except that your actions have affected someone that I love very much. It's personal. We soldiers, we're not supposed to let things be personal. We're supposed to let the rules and regulations do the thinking for us. "It's easier to divide the galaxy into black and white, us and them, and believe in the rightneousness of our cause even when we know in our hearts that we and the enemy are no different. Do you truly believe that this was the right thing to do, Quinn?" He hesitated for a long moment before answering. "I followed my orders to the letter," he said slowly. "That, I believe, is right. I did not care for this assignment, but as you said, it's not my place to question." "Perhaps you should have." "And defy the will of a Sith? That would go against everything that our Empire stands for." Iriath shrugged. "Defy one Sith and save another. Perhaps it would have been worth it." "Your daughter is not much of a Sith," Quinn said flatly. Iriath's face remained expressionless. "Not much of a Sith," he repeated. "And yet she killed Darth Vengean." "With the help of one of Vengean's apprentices, another agent of Baras." "The point stands." Quinn shook his head. "She is not fit to be the Wrath." "So you think the Emperor made a mistake." "The Emperor," Quinn snapped, "is an absentee landlord. Better management is needed." "And you believed that Darth Baras would provide this 'better management'?" Iriath asked, shaking his head. "It was my duty to serve him." Iriath smiled thinly. "And to think that if it weren't for me, Darth Jadus could be sitting on the Emperor's throne even as we speak. But that's another matter entirely. The question now is, what am I going to do with you?" "I attempted to murder a Sith Lord," Quinn said tonelessly. "The punishment for that crime is execution." "As far as the rest of the Empire is concerned, that Sith was a fugitive." "I failed my master." "So you did," Iriath mused. He regarded Quinn with a detached air. "The curious thing about justice is that it's very easy to talk about in the abstract, but when it becomes personal, well... It's an entirely different matter. We really aren't so different, you and I. Perhaps I'm fortunate that my wife was killed before I found myself receiving similar orders to the ones you acted upon. On a purely logical level, you are not responsible for this. You were given your orders and you had no choice but to carry them out. I cannot fault you for that. "However," he continued, his eyes turning as cold as dead stars, "You hurt my daughter. The one person in the galaxy who could be considered my weakness. The problem with men like me, though, is that when those weak points are attacked, they don't falter. They strike back. They seek vengeance." Iriath turned away and looked to Pierce and the strange silver droid who both stood in the doorway. "I'll take him out to the city," he said briskly. "Best to get this done in a secluded spot, where it won't seem strange to find an officer's body." And then they dragged him away. ***** It was the first time that Iriath had made use of his interrogation training, but he remembered it all quite clearly. The results suggested that he'd done things correctly. "Impressive," SCORPIO murmured as he strode towards the mouth of the alleyway, and the street beyond. "What is?" Iriath inquired. "Such endurance in one of your species. It's almost unprecedented." Iriath glanced behind him at the crumpled form that lay in the shadows. It stirred very faintly. Still alive, for a few moments longer. "We humans are a durable lot," he told SCORPIO. "You'd be surprised what we can put up with." "I was," she admitted, sounding almost wry. "I have adjusted my algorithms accordingly." "Good for you," Iriath said, stepping out onto the street and making his way back towards the spaceport. Several Imperial soldiers gave him odd looks as he passed. Glancing down at himself, he saw that there was a great deal more blood on him than the alley's dim lightning had suggested. He should have worn his uniform; it would have been less suspicious. Too late now, however. "You enjoyed that," SCORPIO commented a few moments later. "Probably as much as you enjoy commenting on my brain activity," he retorted. She did not respond for several more minutes, then spoke as if continuing her previous statement without regard for the passage of time. "Not as much as I thought you would."

I'm glad to see you all are enjoying the buildup. Thanks for putting up with my very slow drawing out of this situation. I'll probably have the rest of this up later today, because screw once a day updates, exciting things are happening! Iriath - Corellia (2/3) When he reached Docking Bay 16, it occurred to Iriath that he had just done the very thing he probably should not have done: rushed into a situation without adequate preparation. Even the most novice officer or agent knew that was one of the easier ways to get yourself killed. He had no idea what he would be up against, if Tessa's crew would be hostile, anything. But he was here, so he decided that he might as well keep going. He glanced over at SCORPIO, who padded silently beside him. If it came down to a fight, he knew from experience that the droid was considerably tougher than she looked. Tessa's ship was a rather nice Fury-class interceptor. Those were all the rage among Sith these days, if the contents of other hangars he'd glanced into were any indication. It appeared to be unguarded, but he approached with caution. "Scan the area," Iriath ordered SCORPIO quietly. "Three life-forms aboard the ship," she replied. "Two concealed outside." "Concealed where, exactly—" Before he could finish the sentence, a young woman in Sith robes sprang out of the shadows under the ship's wings and landed directly in front of him, drawing a double-bladed lightsaber. A moment later, a large man in Imperial trooper armor walked out to stand near her, hefting an assault cannon. And now the tricky part. Iriath lifted his hands into the air. "My intentions are peaceful." The soldier snorted. "Sure they are. Who are you?" "I'm Major James Iriath, formerly Imperial Intelligence operative Cipher Nine, now part of Lord Razer's infantry division," Iriath said quickly. The young woman closed her eyes for a long moment. "He's not lying," she said distantly. "He's—" She opened her eyes and looked at Iriath with a small frown. "You're Tessa's father." "That's correct," he answered. She let her crew call her Tessa? The woman smiled faintly. "I'm Jaesa Willsaam. Tessa's apprentice." Apprentice? Jaesa looked older than Tessa! Then again, who knew how those things worked... "This burly fellow," Jaesa continued, gesturing to the soldier, "is Lieutenant Pierce, who can put his giant cannon away now because we're in no danger." Pierce gave a dark grin and slung the weapon up onto his back. "Who's the shiny job?" "SCORPIO," said SCORPIO, and left it at that. Jaesa blinked. "So what brings you here? I don't suppose you've seen Tessa?" Iriath nodded. "Tessa is on my ship. When she returns is entirely up to her. As for my purpose here, I am looking for someone." Pierce narrowed his eyes. "A Captain Malavai Quinn, perhaps?" Iriath nodded. "Well, you've come to the right place," Pierce said. "The slimy bastard is locked up in the cargo hold, and we're under orders not to touch him. Damn shame." Iriath met Pierce's gaze. "I'm under no such orders," he said softly. "And if he was spying for Baras, he might have useful information." "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Jaesa asked, frowning. Pierce started to smirk. "They say you Cipher agents are good at interrogatations." "I know a few tricks," Iriath said pleasantly. "If you'll allow me aboard?" Pierce's smirk widened. "By all means. Sir." "I don't know about this," Jaesa said uneasily. "Tessa's orders—" "Tessa is not thinking clearly right now," Iriath said. "She may be a Sith, but I'm still her father, and I am acting in her best interests. Wouldn't you agree, Lieutenant?" "Definitely," Pierce said. "And I'm more than willing to assist." Jaesa looked back and forth between the two men, and seemed to recognize that her objections were futile. "Fine," she snapped. "I'll be out here, watching the perimeter." She walked away quickly, putting her lightsaber back on her belt as she went. Pierce shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder about her..." He looked at Iriath. "This way, sir," he said, and headed for the ship. A note on Iriath's non-Intelligence rank: To the best of my knowledge, agents who are not the Hand of Jadus become lieutenants. However, since Iriath was already a major before being transferred to Intelligence, he got to go right back to what he was since he already had a history in the military. Also because dammit, he will outrank Quinn if it kills me.

The reckoning approaches! Iriath - Corellia (1/3) Iriath held his daughter and tried not to panic. He had never seen her like this, never. He maneuvered them over to a nearby crate and sat down on top of it, drawing Tessa up onto his lap. She nestled against him and continued to cry. What had happened? He was not sure what could drive his normally cheerful Tessa to such misery. He would do his best to find the answer once she had calmed down. If she calmed down. Stars, he was no good at this sort of thing. All he could do was hold her and try to be comforting. In the back of his mind, he remembered that he had a mission, that he had a place to be, but at that moment it didn't matter. Tessa needed him. His responsibilities could wait. Eventually, her tears subsided. She huddled against him, shaking, as she struggled to catch her breath. Iriath rubbed her back, although she probably couldn't feel it through her armor, and made soothing noises. "I'm sorry," she muttered, grabbing a corner of her cloak and mopping at her eyes. "It's quite all right," he said quietly. "Do you want to talk about it?" Tessa looked up at him, her pale green eyes wide and bloodshot. "I made a mistake, Daddy. I made a really stupid mistake." And then she explained. Stumbling over her words, choking and nearly crying again when she said a name, she told him. Iriath felt a chill run through him at her words. "And...what is the situation on your ship now?" he asked carefully. "He's locked in the cargo hold," Tessa sniffed. "I told the others not to hurt him. I know I should have let him, but I couldn't—I didn't—" "It's all right," Iriath said. "You don't have to deal with it. Come on." He eased them both to their feet and started towards his ship, keeping an arm around Tessa. She followed without protest or request for explanation. He ushered her aboard and led her straight to his quarters. "Stay here, sweetheart," he told her. "The door is biolocked so only I can access it." Tessa sat down on his bed and stared blankly in front of her. "Where is your ship?" he asked gently. "Docking bay sixteen," she whispered. He hated to leave her like this, but there were things that desperately needed doing. "I'll be back soon," Iriath said, and left, locking the door behind him. Vector, who had been sitting in the common room, approached him as soon as he emerged. "Something is wrong," he said softly. "We feel it." "Very wrong," Iriath agreed. "But I'm going to do my best to take care of it." He started to move down the hall, then paused, turning back to Vector. "If Tessa comes out, please take care of her. Don't let anyone else disturb her." Vector bowed his head. "We will watch," he said, and settled himself back on the couch opposite the door to Iriath's quarters. "Thank you," Iriath said softly, and headed down the hall. Halfway to his intended destination, he encountered the one he sought. "There is a new life-form aboard," SCORPIO observed, her orange optics fixing on him. "Your pulse is accelerated, and your brain activity is spiking in areas that coincide with many mammals' primal urge to defend other members of their social group. Interesting." "You're coming with me," Iriath said grimly. He was not sure how a droid with a fixed expression managed to look inquisitive, but she did it. "The probability of your specifically requesting my presence is approximately three point seven four percent," she said. "You are behaving in a most atypical manner today." "It's an atypical day," Iriath said, shrugging. He turned and walked towards the hatch, every sense on the alert for an attack from behind. He did not trust that thing, but she was useful sometimes. He glanced over his shoulder. SCORPIO had only moved a few steps in his direction. "Come on," he said lightly. "We're going to kill someone very, very slowly, and I know you can't resist the chance to observe the extent of someone's tolerance for pain. Let's get moving."

Aieee, the return of Sith!Quinn! ...I'm not sure whether to be happy or horrified. Perhaps both.

I love Quinn, and I love to hate this Quinn. I enjoy writing him as sweet(ish) with A'tro, but it's very interesting to explore his cold, ruthless side. I think that all Quinns have an equal capacity for love and hatred hidden away deep inside of them, and their individual circumstances dictate how much of each is brought out. We shall see. Glad you liked! Edit: Adwynyth, you posted right when I posted! I'm glad my Quinn is proving sufficiently evil. Writing him like this is fun, although I admit that I kind of miss nice!Quinn from Afterimages... Tessa - Corellia Coronet Spaceport, Corellia 11 ATC Tessa wandered. She had wrapped herself in a black cloak and put the hood up, concealing her face. She was still obviously Sith, and no one bothered her as she meandered through the spaceport. Her surroundings swam a bit in her vision, as if it were all just a very vivid dream from which she could awaken at any moment. I wish. She was exhausted; she hadn't slept since before the...incident. His things were in her quarters, his equipment was in the medbay, his presence was everywhere on the ship, in both reality and the Force. She had tried to move his belongings out of her quarters, but the sight of his second pair of boots, perfectly polished, resting exactly perpendicular to the wall, made her quail. She found herself remembering the way he would sit on the edge of the bed and put those boots on in the morning, and so she ran out to the common room and huddled up on a chair. When she closed her eyes, she saw him, so she did not sleep. She dared not dream. He was locked in the cargo hold. Tessa could not help but feel his presence in the Force. It made her nauseous. What had she done? She had trusted him, told him everything—stars, she'd let him touch her, let him— She shivered as she crept along one of the spaceport's side corridors. She'd been a fool. Sith weren't supposed to trust people. She had once believed that doctrine to be paranoid and nonsensical. Now, she wished with all her might that she had followed it more closely. Tessa wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, as if it were a shield that she could use to ward off the memories. It didn't help. She could still feel his touch on her skin, still hear the things he'd whispered to her in the dark of the night. He had been so gentle, so sincere. Even after everything, she knew that deep down inside, a part of her would miss him. Maybe she should have killed him. It would be the Sith thing to do, and she had to be a good Sith, didn't she? Or maybe...maybe he had been right. Maybe the Emperor had made a mistake. What kind of a Wrath would shy away from killing a man who'd wronged her because she was too terrified to be in the same room with him long enough to do it? The ship's comm had gone off several times during the trip to Corellia. Perhaps the Hand, perhaps Baras calling to gloat. She didn't know. She'd turned it off. She was neglecting her responsibilities, but she could not make herself care. He would have urged her to do her duty. To the void with him. Tessa found herself rounding a corner into a more remote wing of the spaceport. She had not paid any real attention to where she was going, instead letting herself wander. Maybe the Force would guide her, as it had before. She slipped inside a hangar without even realizing it at first. Then her attention was caught by the elegant contours of the sleek silver starship that occupied the space. It was all smooth lines where her Starfrost was angles, and its polished metallic surface created a distorted reflection of its surroundings. The sight of the ship was so hypnotic that she failed to notice the individual sneaking up behind her until they had grabbed her and spun her around, yanking off her hood. Tessa tensed instinctively and tried to draw her lightsaber, but her arms were pinned. As the surge of adrenaline faded, she realized that she was face-to-face with her father. "Tessa?" Iriath asked, frowning. "What are you doing here?" "I..." she whispered, struggling for words. "I don't know." He started to relax his restraining hold, then tightened it again, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. "What happened the last time we talked before I left for Intelligence?" he demanded, his eyes cold and hard. Why was her father, of all people, acting like this? Was the whole galaxy against her now? "We—we talked," she stammered. "About you leaving, and I was worried, and—and you gave me your wedding ring. I still have it." "Do you have it with you?" Tessa nodded. "Show me." Iriath released her and stepped back, one hand moving to rest on his blaster. She reached under the neck of her armor and pulled up the fine chain upon which she kept the ring. She hadn't worn it in months, but some instinct had prompted her to grab it before she fled her quarters. She hadn't wanted to leave it there with the memories of him. Iriath snatched the ring and examined it carefully, then let it drop. The chain swung back and the ring made a soft, metallic thump against her chest plate. She stared down at it numbly, not even reacting when he put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry about that," he said quietly. "But I'm fighting people who can look like anyone, and, well..." He trailed off. "Are you all right?" She shook her head. "Tessa," he said gently, reaching under her chin with one hand and tilting her head up to look at him. "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong." "I..." she whispered, staring up into eyes that were exactly the same color as her own. "I don't..." He was her father. He cared for her, she could feel it in the Force. I never felt that from him. Why didn't that make me wonder? "Tessa," Iriath said again, a small thread of panic slipping into his Force-signature. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm here for you." Something inside her broke. The next thing she knew, she had her arms wrapped tightly around him, her face was buried in his chest, and she was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *rolls around* *looks at Wynston and Quinn* Carry on, don't mind me...

Yaaay! *throws a dart to see if she hits a Quinn*

Tessa and Quinn - Transponder Station (dun dun dun) Transponder Station 11 ATC Tessa had a bad feeling. She trusted Quinn, of course. He would get them out of this predicament, as he always did. But she could not shake the sensation that trembled through the Force, telling her that things were about to go very wrong. She kept a hand on her lightsaber as she walked a few steps behind him, eyeing her surroundings warily. As they entered a large, empty room, Tessa lagged behind, trying to detect any ambushes or traps. Quinn moved to the center of the space, then turned around, a peculiar blank expression on his face. He folded his hands behind his back, watching her. The door slammed shut behind her, and she jumped. Her boots made an uncomfortably loud clatter as they hit the floor again an instant later. "Quinn," Tessa said tightly, "I don't like this. Something's wrong." "I wondered when you would catch on," he murmured. "What are you talking about?" she asked, frowning. "What's going on?" "This entire scenario has been a ruse," he explained blandly. Was that relief she felt emanating from him in the Force? "There's no martial law, and no special signal emitter." "So this is a trap, then," Tessa said. That explained her uneasy feelings, though not Quinn's odd behavior. "I'm surprised you didn't spot it earlier." "Just when I thought I had witnessed the full extent of your naïveté," he sighed, shaking his head. "This is my trap, my lord, and you walked right into it. As always, you are far too trusting." His voice was razor-sharp steel coated with ice. Tessa stumbled a few steps backward as she tried to process what he had just said. "You—you set a trap for me?" Quinn inclined his head. "Baras is my true master. He had me lure you here to have you killed." The world seemed to spin around her. "But you—you—" she stammered. "I thought—" He raised an eyebrow. "That I loved you? No." The spinning stopped, as if a gravity well had finished drawing her in and was now crushing her atom by atom. It all felt so utterly unreal. She stared at him and felt nothing. The words floated like oil over her mind, clouding the surface but failing to sink in. Quinn sighed and moved his hands out from behind his back, revealing some sort of remote controller device. "For what it's worth, I do wish there had been another way." "I don't understand," Tessa whispered, her voice sounding as if it were coming from a long way off. "You told me you loved me..." "My finest deception," Quinn said bitterly. "And my greatest shame." He depressed a control on the remote. The doors behind him slid open, and two war droids marched through to stand on either side of him, their optics fixed on Tessa. "These droids have been programmed specifically to fight you," he said—quickly, excitedly, as though he were overwhelmingly eager to explain the manner of her intended death. "Your odds of survival are quite negligible." She had no idea what she was supposed to say to that, and she probably could not have forced words past the lump in her throat anyway. She drew her lightsaber, more out of habit than out of any real comprehension of her situation, and let herself drop into a fighting stance. The Force gathered around her. "I'm sorry it's come to this, my lord," Quinn told her. And then, quieter, so softly that only the Force let her hear: "I'm sorry for everything." The droids opened fire, and Tessa moved. She felt nothing inside. No anger, no hatred, no fear; no emotions to fuel a dark fire. The Force moved around her and through her in an overwhelming tide, and she rode the waves. There was power there, power unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Not the pure light of a Jedi or the burning darkness that she had been taught to channel, but something else. Something colder, and quieter. Her mind curled up in a ball in a dark corner, shaking with horror at what was happening, and the Force flowed through her body and let her move with the current. She leaped across the room, leaving the droids firing uselessly at the space where she had been. Their tracking mechanisms strained to catch up as she hit the wall behind them with both feet, then launched herself forward, laying into the first droid with sweeping slashes of her blade. Its arms swiveled around, and she blocked a burst of cannon fire, deflecting the bolts straight into the droid's armored chassis. She sensed Quinn moving up behind her and she lashed out with the Force, buffeting him away. Then she was rolling to one side as the second droid fired in her direction. Tessa paused for a moment between the two droids, batting away their first few volleys. She had never felt such utter ease in combat. She had a strange feeling of assurance that she absolutely could defeat these enemies. As yet, she had no idea how, but she knew that it was possible. The Force knew the way, and she had given herself completely over to its guidance. The undamaged droid fired a missile just as Tessa launched herself up into the air. She skimmed over the top of the damaged droid, barely clearing it. She kicked in its optic as she went, then hit the ground in a crouch on the other side of it. The missile tracked her, tracing her path over the droid. If it had been following her head or her chest, it would have gone all the way around and blown up in her face. She had jumped at the last possible second, however, and its guidance systems had locked onto her feet. Tessa slashed the damaged droid's legs out from under it as the missile collided with its head. It collapsed in a smoking, sparking heap, and she dashed away lest it explode. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Quinn getting to his feet from where she had thrown him into a corner. She quickly turned towards the remaining droid, reaching out with the Force to grab its cannon arms and wrench them around. With a screech of rending metal, the arms snapped, sending huge clouds of sparks flying. A moment later, those sparks ignited the droid's remaining ammunition, and it exploded. Tessa whirled around to face Quinn just as he started shooting. She deflected the shots away into the walls and ceiling, forcibly ignoring the small voice telling her to wound him. When she denied that instinct, her feeling of invincibility began to drain away as the Force receded slightly. It still pulsed around her, but it no longer held her in its grip. Sith were not taught to disarm blaster-wielding opponents without actually taking their hands off, but she was able to alter the move at the last second and slice Quinn's blaster in half. He immediately dropped the useless weapon and started to draw a vibroknife. Tessa dropped her lightsaber, terrified that she might seriously hurt him, and lunged inside his attack, grabbing his wrist and wrenching it sharply. His fingers sprang open, and the blade bounced to the floor. She seized his other arm and bore down with the Force and her own strength, forcing him to his knees. "I underestimated you," he whispered, breathing hard. "Perhaps I always have..." He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "End this." "What?" she asked softly, knowing on some level what he meant but refusing to allow herself to understand fully. "Kill me," Quinn said hoarsely. His voice was almost pleading. She let go of his arms and took several steps backward. He remained on his knees, watching her. "I'm not going to kill you, Quinn," she told him firmly. "Then you are a fool." "Perhaps," she conceded, summoning her lightsaber to her hand and clipping it onto her belt. "But you aren't responsible for this. Baras ordered you to kill me, he probably coerced you—" "There was no coercion, you stupid girl!" Quinn hissed viciously. "I've wanted you dead for months." Tessa froze. "You're weak and a fool. The powers of the Sith are wasted on you." Quinn smiled coldly. "I wormed my way into your confidence, all so you would trust me too much to see the attack coming. Pretending to be attracted to you was repulsive, but necessary." She slowly moved towards him, feeling like she couldn't breathe. "My sacrifice," Quinn smirked, looking up at her with satisfaction. Gloating, even though he was at her mercy. "For the good of the Empire. Tell me, little girl, what have you sacrificed? Do you even understand what it is that you claim to fight for?" "I understand plenty," Tessa snapped. Anger was comforting, a warm balm on the wounds his words had incised. "I understand a great deal more than you think." She drew her lightsaber and ignited the blade. The dark side flared with it, hot and turbulent. "We'll see how weak you think I am when I'm finished with you." He continued to look at her with that smug little smirk. Gloating. Or...goading... If I kill him, the distant, rational part of her mind realized, he'll win. But I want to hurt him, she thought. He lied to me. He betrayed me. He told me he loved me, and I believed him... Tessa leaped towards Quinn and swung. He watched the violet blade calmly as it moved through the air towards him—and melted away, the hilt connecting solidly with his jaw. He tottered where he knelt, then collapsed, unconscious, to the floor. She scooped up his body with the Force, not wanting to touch him, and headed back towards her ship.

Well, if I were being a cryptic author person, I would say that it's going to go about where one would expect it to, and then take a sharp turn off the road and start plunging through the wild woods up the mountain. I take it everything is working as intended, then. Probably no update today, since I'll be out of town for most of it. We'll see if I cook up anything in the evening.

Tessa and Quinn - Starfrost (again) Aboard Fury-class starship Starfrost 11 ATC Every time Tessa woke up to find herself in bed with Quinn, she felt as if she might burst from sheer delight. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that this might actually happen. And yet there he was, asleep in her bed, and there she was, looking over at him with a contented smile on her lips. Pure joy. He had only started sharing her quarters a short while ago. Even after he had confessed his feelings for her, she had scarcely dared to hope that things might get that far. Quinn was, to be frank, as stubborn as a gundark with a head cold, and she'd had to wear away his walls a bit. Only a bit, though—she would never force him into anything he didn't want. Tessa propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him intently where he lay on his back next to her. His face was softer when he slept, a few of the hard lines smoothing and some of the coldness thawing. It was really quite attractive, though of course when he was sleeping she was unable to see his beautiful sapphire-blue eyes. She leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on one sculpted cheek, careful not to wake him. She was so fortunate to have a man like him. Quinn was intelligent, mature, and always mindful of her needs. Sure, he was considerably older than she was, but that meant that he had a greater experience and understanding of both the galaxy and himself. In these hectic times, she needed an advisor like him. With a small sigh, she lay back down, turning onto her side so she was facing him and tucking one hand under her head. She'd had difficulty sleeping of late. Some strange and subtle turning of the Force tugged at the back of her mind, disturbing her attempts to rest. What it meant, she did not have any idea at all. Tessa closed her eyes and resolved that this time, she was going to sleep, and stay asleep. She edged a little closer to Quinn's warmth, wanting to put her arms around him, but refrained from doing so. He probably wouldn't mind, but the thought of making such a move on his person seemed like an intrusion. A small, anxious part of her fretted that he might be offended. And so she remained where she was, feeling the soft pulse of his life-light in the Force, and slowly drifted off. Every time Quinn awoke to find himself in bed with Tessa, he thought he might be sick. He had only actually vomited once, after their first...intimacy. He'd done it quietly, in the refresher attached to her quarters, while she lay in bed still glowing with the rush of excitement from this new experience. The horror and self-loathing continued to well up within him after every interaction with her, but he managed to control himself. He cracked an eyelid and looked over at Tessa. She lay on her side facing him, one hand under her head, breathing with the steady rhythm of deep slumber. Opening his eyes all the way, he studied her face. She was quite pretty, he would not deny that. Not his type by any stretch of the imagination, but attractive enough that he could— A small shiver ran through him. It was more difficult every time. Everything was more difficult, now. How much longer could he hold out before he snapped and killed her, or himself? Emperor be praised, he would not have to discover the answer to that question. In the latest communication from his true master, Quinn had received new orders. Orders for Tessa's immediate assassination. It was, he reflected, past time. How would he do it? A knife in the back, or a blaster bolt? A pillow to cover that pretty face, a toxic compound in the kolto the next time she was injured? It would be simplicity itself to reach over right then and snap her slender neck. But the time was not right, and such a method would surely get him caught, so he refrained. He certainly did not love Tessa, and he only grudgingly respected her. That small respect was enough, however. When the hour arrived, he would give her a fighting chance. She was not a strong Sith, but she was still Sith. She deserved that much. And if she killed him, he would not have to live with the memory of all that he had done.

This will be the last crosspost from the SFC. Yes, it's the creepy bit. Read it again, and be disturbed again! Further exploration of this topic to follow! ...I'm enjoying this far too much. Tessa and Quinn - Starfrost

I would imagine that Vector's decency would provide a welcome break for an agent surrounded by schemers. The most bada** response to the "there is no death, only the Force" line will forever be Darth Angral's, but I did my best. Iriath - Quesh (3/3) Imperial Base, Quesh 11 ATC Iriath staggered back into the Imperial base. Vector did his best to support him, but the younger man was as unsteady as he was. Between the battle with Kothe and dodging the last few surviving droid defenders as they escaped the bombarded facility, the two were definitely not in the best of health. We're a sorry lot, Iriath thought dryly, noting the curious looks of the soldiers they passed on their way to the shuttle pad. He felt strange, almost...jubilant. But we won. Stars above, we won. It's over. Staying upright as he stood still and waited for the lift proved to be even more difficult than walking. Vector leaned heavily on his staff, and Iriath found himself slouching against the nearest wall with a posture that would have given an Academy drill sergeant fits. It was all he could do to keep himself from breaking into hysterical laughter. I did it. I killed that damn Jedi. I avenged Lynore, finally. The lift seemed to take an eternity to arrive, but it finally ground to a halt in front of them. A familiar-looking young woman in Sith armor stepped off it, then froze, staring at him. "Dad?" Tessa asked in astonishment. Iriath shook himself—was he really so far gone that he had failed to recognize his own daughter? He stepped towards her, meeting her halfway as she skipped forward and embraced him. The lift moved upwards again behind her, but he paid no heed. "Dad, what in the galaxy are you doing here?" she asked, frowning at him as she pulled back from the hug. "And what happened to you? You don't look so good." She looked different than she had the last time he'd seen her. Her armor had clearly seen much use, and she had an air of capability that seemed out of place on his little girl. But she was not that girl anymore, it seemed; she was a young woman, now. She was Sith, like her mother before her. Pride welled up within him, a glowing wave of warmth. "I was on a mission," he said, smiling. "The Jedi who murdered your mother is dead, now. Justice has been served." Tessa gasped, her eyes widening. "You—you killed him?" Iriath nodded. "I...stars, that's amazing." She bit her lip, looking suddenly pensive. "I hope—I hope Mum knows, wherever she is." "I'm sure she does, dearest," Iriath said quietly. "I'm sure she does." There was a moment of silence, broken eventually by Vector's soft, meaningful throat-clearing. Iriath gave a small start. "Oh, of course..." Tessa gave Vector a curious look. "Tessa, this is Vector Hyllus, one of my crew," Iriath said crisply. "Vector, this is Lord Vrintessia Alamar-Iriath, my daughter." Vector gave a neat bow. "A pleasure, my lord." Tessa blushed. "Please, there's no need for that. You're one of Dad's associates; you can call me Tessa. Unless you'd prefer the formality." "We try our best to observe the proprieties," Vector said with just a touch of wryness in his voice. Tessa gave a small chuckle. "Whatever you see fit." She turned back to Iriath. "Do you need medical attention? I can summon Quinn—" "No, no, there's no need," Iriath assured her. He needed to report the success of his mission as soon as possible. "What brings you to Quesh?" he asked, trying to distract her. She'd drag him to a medic herself if he didn't guide her down a different train of thought. "Oh, my master wants me here," she said, then raised an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you've heard..." "Heard what?" "Darth Baras is on the Dark Council now," Tessa said casually, as if it were as unimportant as the scuffs on her boots. Iriath's eyes widened. His daughter was apprenticed directly to a Dark Council member? "You're certainly doing well for yourself," he said, forcing a smile as worry shot through him. Tessa grinned proudly. "Don't tell anyone, but...I killed Darth Vengean myself." What. "I...Tessa..." he spluttered. "That's, um, impressive." She wasn't his little girl anymore. His sweet, cheerful Tessa didn't go around killing Dark Council members. Then again, he'd come damn close to fighting one himself. She giggled. She actually giggled. Maybe she hadn't changed as much as he thought. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I do have a rendezvous to make. Can you get to a medbay all right?" Iriath nodded. "My ship is docked at the station, and one of my crew is a doctor." Sort of. He wished Lokin would stop mentioning that his medical license was probably expired. Not that he had any particular desire to place his life in that man's hands, but still... "All right," Tessa said slowly. She lunged forward and hugged Iriath again, then trotted off across the base. He watched her go, frowning. "That was...interesting," Vector commented. Iriath glanced at him sidelong. "You're good at reading people, Vector. What was your impression of her?" Vector paused for a long moment before responding, as though considering his words carefully. "She had a certain...luminance to her aura that we have not seen before in a Sith." Iriath narrowed his eyes. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" "It's difficult to say," Vector admitted. "However, we are inclined to think that it is good." He gave a small shrug. "We're not sure why. It simply is." "That's comforting," Iriath told him, and meant it. Vector smiled faintly. "We are glad to be of service." "If you really wanted to be of service, you'd make this lift arrive faster," Iriath muttered dryly. Vector tilted his head to one side. "The Nest has no opinion on the timeliness of lifts. We, however, have resigned ourselves to being patient." "It's a virtue, or so they say," Iriath sighed, sticking his head out into the lift shaft and peering upwards. "It seems to be on its way." The explosion was barely audible as they made their way onto the shuttle up to the orbital station some time later. "Did you hear that?" Vector asked, frowning. Iriath nodded. "Probably nothing to worry about." I hope Tessa wasn't involved. And if she was...I hope she's all right. He longed to stay on the planet and catch up with her properly, but as always, duty came first.

Glad you're enjoying! Iriath - Quesh (2/3) He found Kothe bent over a console in front of a doorway blocked off by a forcefield. "Blasted machine," Kothe growled, prodding the console. Iriath was tempted to shoot him in the back, but the urge quickly faded. After everything the man had done to him, a quick kill would be too easy. Too clean. He shifted almost unconsciously into parade rest, clasping his hands behind him. His gloves were sticky with Saber's blood, but he could still keep a firm grip on a blaster and a vibroknife. He would see this through. Apparently, whatever Kothe had done to the console was effective, for a few moments later the forcefield disengaged. Kothe turned. "Legate," he said, frowning. "I thought I felt you. You're supposed to be back at the shields—" He broke off, his eyes widening. That's right, you blasted Jedi, Iriath thought smugly. I don't have to do a damn thing you say anymore. "I see," Kothe said quietly. "You're free, aren't you?" Iriath smiled pleasantly. "I believe we both knew this day would come. Time's up, Kothe." Kothe shook his head and drew his lightsaber. "Is that what you think?" Iriath shrugged, moving into a combat stance and readying his blaster. "For someone who isn't supposed to be a Jedi anymore, you have not tried particularly hard to hide it." "Call it my secret pride," Kothe murmured, and charged. Both the Imperial army and Intelligence gave its trainees courses meant to prepare them for fighting Force-users. However, in Iriath's experience, such programs did little to properly ready you for the experience of having an impossibly fast and agile being with a weapon that could cut through almost anything bearing down on you with all the force of a berserk rancor. He held his ground as Kothe covered the distance to him with disturbing speed. Iriath slowed him slightly with a steady stream of blasterfire, all of which was deflected, but in a matter of moments he was far too close to that bright bar of plasma for his own comfort. Iriath lunged to one side as the blade intersected with the space where he had just been standing, continuing to fire. He didn't expect any of his shots to actually get through, but they didn't need to. He was, after all, not alone. Vector had expressed concern over Iriath's temperament and actions over the course of the SIS mission. While normally he would have quashed any questioning of his leadership, there was something oddly endearing about Vector's earnest desire to help. Maybe it was the pheromones. Whatever the reason, Iriath liked having him around, particularly in fights like this, where every move was crucial and he needed someone reliable to watch his back. Kaliyo was too flighty, Lokin too sly, Temple too unfamiliar. Vector, though...Vector was trustworthy. Kothe started to move towards Iriath's new position, his lightsaber weaving to block the blaster shots. Vector slipped up behind him, pulled out a sharp-looking object from some hidden pocket, and stabbed him neatly in the back. Fool Jedi isn't wearing enough armor, Iriath noted as Kothe staggered, whirling around. "We're sorry about that," Vector said contemplatively as he blocked Kothe's lightsaber on his staff. Not for the first time, Iriath wondered just what that thing was made of. "But not all battles can be won honorably." Kothe struck again, slower than before, and Vector parried. He poisoned him, Iriath realized. Why haven't I seen him do that before? He ran quickly towards the fight; although equipped with a lightsaber-resistant weapon, Vector was no warrior. He wouldn't last long by himself against even a weakened Jedi. It would probably be acceptable to shoot Kothe in the back now. He'd said his piece, and the Jedi would know who ended him. He raised his blaster. Kothe cursed under his breath and took one hand off his lightsaber to gesture in Vector's direction, sending him flying backward to crash into the nearest support pillar. Iriath's shot went wide as Kothe twisted back around towards him. Instinct took over, and he reached into his jacket, pulling out the first grenade he got his hand on. He armed it and threw it without bothering to see what kind it was, then dropped to the ground in case it was the thermal detonator. White light seared the edges of his vision. Flashbang. Great. He squeezed his eyes shut until the light receded, then scrambled to his feet, peering through mostly-closed eyelids. He still had his blaster in one hand; he'd had never drop your weapon drilled into his brain rather thoroughly back at the Academy. Kothe had half-fallen to the ground, looking dazed. Iriath lunged forward and shot him. He only managed to fire twice before the blaster's power pack ran out. Son of a— Kothe tried to stand, then collapsed to his knees. "Huh," he gasped. "You fight good, Cipher. Looks like you still have...something I don't anymore." He looked up at Iriath, his eyes watery from the effects of the flashbang grenade. "The Shadow Arsenal was my chance to stop the war, and I failed. I don't expect mercy, given that and..." Iriath took advantage of the brief speech to hastily reload his blaster. "You're going to die knowing that the Republic will fall," he said coldly. He leveled the blaster at Kothe's head. "My Lynore will rest easier this day." Kothe's hands shot forward, and an invisible wave knocked Iriath off his feet. He rolled away as Kothe leaped, lightsaber back in his hand. Iriath scrambled backwards as Kothe moved towards him, trying desperately to distract him with blasterfire long enough to allow him to stand. He fumbled in his jacket and found another grenade, then hurled it. The grenade exploded in midair into a shower of flaming shrapnel, which would have been damn useful earlier. Kothe moved with Force-enhanced speed, dancing out of the way of the explosion, ducking down— —and over the threshold of the chamber he had just opened. Iriath shot the console. Sparks exploded from the ruined electronics, and the forcefield reactivated. He slowly got to his feet and walked over to stand in front of the field, meeting his adversary's eyes. Kothe stared back as the turrets behind him hummed to life, their softly glowing targeting mechanisms seeking. Finding. "There is no death," Kothe said softly. "There is only the Force." "You can have your Force," Iriath whispered. "I'm perfectly happy to watch you die." The turrets opened fire.

Roflmao! *falls over* :D

And now, we break up the crossposting with some new content. Iriath - Quesh Shadow Arsenal Facility, Quesh 11 ATC They don't need you anymore, Watcher X whispered. Iriath stared blankly at his holocom as Ardun Kothe continued to speak. "Hold position," the Jedi said. "Keyword: onomatophobia. And thank you." The transmission ended. Iriath slowly put the holocom away, his head starting to pound as Watcher X appeared in front of him. "They're going to win," Watcher X said grimly. "Now we're out of time." "I thought the serum was supposed to break my programming," Iriath snapped. Lynore shimmered into existence beside the Watcher, dressed in Sith battle armor, her hair bound into a long braid that hung down her back. Even after fourteen years without her, he found himself smiling at her out of habit. "The IX serum has been eating at you since you injected it," Watcher X said. "Carving neural pathways. Bleaching your brain." As always, he gave no indication that he was aware of Lynore's presence. Iriath wondered why, then asked himself, not for the first time, why he was so concerned about the social interactions between two people who were entirely imaginary. "It's not finished," Lynore said, frowning concernedly, "but it will have to suffice. We're out of time, James. We must rewrite your programming now, or you will not be able to escape this place." "New commands, new keyword, no outside control," said Watcher X. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you ready?" Iriath hesitated. "If this goes wrong..." "Then you'll likely end up in a permanent vegetative state," Watcher X said flatly. "But it's not like we have a choice." Lynore glared at her fellow hallucination. "There is always a choice. And the risk is far greater if we do not proceed." Watcher X ignored her. "Thesh protocol, phase one. New keyword: iconoclasm." "Keyword accepted," Iriath's mouth said. "Thesh protocol engaged." Watcher X nodded in satisfaction. "Now you have access. You can force your mind and body to obey a new program. Tell me what you want." Iriath looked at Lynore. "Nothing will keep me from my vengeance. Not anymore." She smiled happily, her brown eyes sparkling. "Embed assassination commands," she said in the same tone that she'd used to give orders to Imperial soldiers, long ago. "Keyword activate from user only. Accept no outside orders." "Assassination commands embedded," Iriath responded coolly. "Accepting no further orders." Hearing her voice utter the words that could shape the workings of his mind made him feel sick, but he welcomed the pain and the disgust. It helped to remind him that it was not really her. "Revert to phase zero," Watcher X said. He tilted his head to one side. "You're free, now. Time for me to go." Before Iriath could respond, he vanished. "It's time for me to say goodbye too," Lynore said quietly. "I've done my best to help you, my beloved. I hope it's been enough." Iriath swallowed hard. "It's been— Lynore, I—" He broke off, unable to find words. She strode up to him and kissed his cheek. "I will miss you. Take care of yourself, and Tessa. I have a feeling matters will only become more complicated from here on out." Her form flickered and started to turn translucent. Iriath felt strangely numb. It's not really her, he reminded himself. He had already lost her, and he could never have her back. Never. This brief experience had stabbed at a mostly-healed wound, but he had already resigned himself to the fact that these visions of her were temporary. "Goodbye," he said softly. It was not much of a farewell, but it was all that he could think of to offer. Lynore smiled sadly. "Goodbye," she echoed, and slowly faded away. "Agent?" Vector's voice asked as if from a long way off. "Are you all right?" Iriath suddenly found himself leaning heavily against the shield control console, Vector standing a short distance away with a concerned expression on his face. "I'm fine," Iriath said shortly. He allowed himself a moment to massage his temples, his eyes stinging. "You disappeared on us," Vector observed. "I'll explain later," Iriath said, turning away and heading for the door. "Just follow my lead." Explanations could wait. For now, he had a Jedi to kill. To be continued.

Iriath and Keeper - Dromund Kaas Iriath - Nar Shaddaa Iriath - X-70B Phantom

Summary: A father and daughter attempt to make their way in the galaxy. Not so easy a task when the former is an Imperial Intelligence agent and the latter is a Sith. Contains major spoilers for the SW and IA storylines, with SI and JK spoilers scheduled to show up later in small doses. A lot of the first few pieces here will be crossposts from the Short Fic Weekly Challenge thread; those will be spoilertagged. I am going to attempt to post everything in chronological order, so there will be some new stuff thrown into the middle of the old content. Kindly bear with me. And now, our feature presentation... Tessa and Iriath - Dromund Kaas Tessa and Vette - Balmorra Tessa - Starfrost

Ehehe, quirky shopkeepers embarrassing Quinn can never not be funny, and I love how you worked in the detail of one of his actual in-game gifts.

...the giggles, they won't stop.

I suddenly found myself inspired to do a Dreams and Nightmares for Iriath as a follow-up to the previous piece. Contains mild spoilers for IA ch 2 and takes place sometime during that. I'm not sure when, exactly, as it's been a while since I played through that line and can't remember the precise chronology. Notes:

Feels, Bright. Wonderful feels. It's nice to see that Quinn eventually found someone else to be happy with, and that last touch at the end with the captain's insignia... Where did this lump in my throat come from?

I wouldn't put it past it... Ooh, I actually forgot about the mole! That would be a battle of epic proportions. And now for a story with a distinctly not lighthearted tone... Agent Iriath's zombie promptified Worst Day Ever. Contains major spoilers for the opening of IA ch 2. I'm a bit unsure about the quality of this piece, but I'm going to push through my self-doubt and post it anyway. Notes:

Grooming. No spoilers. 200ish words of silliness.

I already expressed my joy on tumblr, but it needs saying again: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE *collapses into a twitching fangirl heap*

OMG :D Love this.