The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!

[SveinEternity]

I like it, though when someone on the outside romances the Agent I can only think that it's doomed.

 

Every time someone writes about a BH I want to go level one. Maybe I'll just play one vicariously through all of you folks

 

It's always doomed in some way she or form. BH Level one.... I remember those good ol days when I blasted someone's arm off. Or having the extreme drive to kill Nemr'o the Hutt. Yes sir, those were the good days.

[SveinEternity]

Family

 

This is a new character he is a smuggler of sorts though not THE smuggler from the class storyline (that guy exists but he's someone else). He does not have a name but for the other thread I'm writing his name is, Aiden Lanic.

 

He's my experiment in writing a male character and writing in first person (when I'm writing from his perspective). This is his 'origin story'.

 

Shiv

 

 

The chamber was the same, the acolytes different. She had killed the last batch. The hermit knelt the same way he did when he first saw her. He sensed her presence long before he heard her footsteps. He watched the Rattataki approach. She had been a slave, a mere object to be used until someone had gone too far and paid for it with his life. Death by lightning for a man who thought he could do as he pleased with her. After that, she would be sent to Korriban where she would become an Acolyte yet still treated as a slave until she earned the right to call herself Sith.

 

She was so beautiful, her skin perfect in its paleness, her dark lips formed a pretty pout or stretched into a gorgeous smile, her round and smooth head made hair an unnecessary adornment. Tall and thin, she was so graceful that most men had been content to watch her dance until the last one had wanted to see more.

 

He was a hermit, an old man long past the age when beauty swayed him, and yet even he felt the need watch her form glide across the room, to caress her smooth skin when she was in reach. He had refrained, the first time.

 

“Liyana. What are you doing here?” Spindrall asked. “I already informed Lord Zash and Overseer Harkun that you were worthy.”

 

“I seek shelter from the Academy, I will not return.” she said.

 

“You had such potential and confidence, what changed?”

 

She clenched her jaw in anger, “I am with child. It is only a matter of time before it shows. My enemies will see my weakness and will end me.”

 

“You want to protect your child?”

 

Her laugh was full of hatred and malice. “No, but there is nothing to be done, anything I choose will make me weak, and out there that weakness will be my death.”

 

“In here as well,” the hermit reminded her.

 

“That is why I seek your protection.” She knelt before him, “I offer myself, and the child if you want it when it is born.”

 

Spindrall reached out and touched her chin, she knew the game well enough to pretend it gave her pleasure, and she would still be beautiful for several more months.

 

“Very good,” Spindrall said, “I believe we can come to an arrangement.”

 

***

 

Screams were not unusual in the ancient tombs, Spindrall delivered the child, but Liyana was not doing well. The last eight months had taken their toll, Spindrall had made use of her mind, her power and her body. Now the fate she had gambled desperately to avoid was upon her, she was dying. The baby was born, a shock of hair damp against pale skin, he would pass for full human but barely.

 

“A son,” Spindrall said, holding him out to her. She turned away, he gave the baby to an Acolyte. “I sense no connection to the Force in him. What is his name?”

 

“He will have no name,” she said, “Do whatever you wish with him, if he survives these tombs give him this.” She handed Spindrall a datachip. “It belonged to his father, a soldier who promised to take me from here, then changed his mind because his father could not abide an alien.” She stretched her mouth over her teeth. “When he is grown may he look for the man, his mere presence will be enough to ruin their illustrious family name. He will be my revenge.”

 

Spindrall was amused by her fire even in death. “Very well, I will see that he learns to become the shiv in a stranger’s back.”

 

She held his eyes, then nodded, satisfied. “Leave me to die, I am no more use to you.” He left her lying in the lower tunnel of the catacombs. The shyracks or the klorslugs would come for her. He heard her casting lightning, fighting to the very end screaming her defiance, then nothing.

 

***

 

“Show me your ID and your papers, scum.” An officious looking little Imperial demanded. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, he had a bit of a paunch, he probably gained weight with his authority. From my two meter height, I could see he was also losing his hair. His partner looked away as he roughed me up. It was ludicrous the little man only came up to my chin, he had to tiptoe to look into my eyes. I would have laughed at him but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I handed him both and smiled at his partner.

 

Dromund Kaas is every bit as bad as they say. Always dark, always raining, always full of Sith. I arrived yesterday, fresh off the shuttle, so to speak. I got a few double takes but mostly I pass for full human instead of near-human. I sold some artifacts when I arrived, they were enough to buy me a decent suit and some fake papers so I could pretend to be an average citizen. By the glances I was getting from some of the ladies, I looked a good deal better than average. I salute them back with a few smoldering looks, just enough to make them blush.

 

That’s how I ended up with Officious-Imp in my face. Apparently, he fancied his partner more than he was willing to admit. She was a beauty, probably in her mid-twenties, black hair, dark brown eyes, and a figure that made the Imperial uniform worthy of saluting.

 

Officious-Imp grunted while he looked at my papers, and finally told me to move along. He managed to fumble my ID and his partner picked it up. I accepted it back from her stroking one of her fingers as she handed it to me. She turned a shade of crimson that would make a pureblood jealous.

 

“Perhaps I should apply for the Academy, you could use a new partner,” I whispered into her ear.

 

“Come along, Officer Meln,” her partner glared at me. She hurried on but looked back twice. I grinned, it was good to be sixteen and free.

 

You would think growing up in the Korriban Academy tombs that I would be a half-wild savage. It turns out some of the most educated people in the Empire are running around down there, though they all have lost their minds. Spindrall taught me everything he knew about living and surviving, he let me practice talking to the officers and acolytes, running the con, seeing if I could pass for another student, a servant, a slave, a soldier. Luckily, I was tall and looked older than I was.

 

A few days ago, he said it was time for me to leave. I would fulfill the destiny my mother gave me and become the shiv in my father’s back. It got me out of the tombs, which was what I wanted. Now all I needed to do is find the man. The datachip gave me an ID number, the Imperial personnel database and some creative rewiring gave me his name, rank, location, and a recent picture. I caught a speeder to the citadel and strolled into the Intelligence wing.

 

There he was, a tall man with dark brown hair a mustache and beard. He appeared to be waiting for something. I examined the directory to give myself time to decide how I wanted to ruin him.

 

“Phineas,” a woman called. She ran up to him and kissed him on the cheek. She had golden blonde hair and a sweet lilting voice. She also had two children in tow a boy and a girl about six years old, miniature copies of their mother. They attached themselves to the man’s legs. He gathered the children into his arms and returned the woman’s kiss. A smile flashed over his face making his stern visage handsome for the briefest moment.

 

“Lieutenant Dorne,” an officer called, the man put his children down and saluted smartly. “I just wanted you to sign off on this before you left.”

 

“Of course, sir,” he put his thumb on the outstretched datapad and saluted again.

 

This was my chance to destroy him, his half-alien sixteen-year-old son, walking up to his wife, two children and commanding officer. His reputation would be ruined once they finished calling me a liar. The little girl noticed me watching and smiled.

 

Her mother followed her gaze. “Elara,” she whispered though every sound carried in this place, an odd thing for a building where secrets were told. “Don’t stare at the people here.”

 

“He’s beautiful mommy.” She whispered back. I would have blushed if my face could hold color.

 

“Shh,” she smiled apologetically at me. Dorne finished his business, gathered them up and left.

 

I watched them go and walked out into the rain. I could destroy him, his pretty wife, and his cute children, but my reward would be a beating and interrogation from Imperial Intelligence. No thanks. If I’m going to shiv someone I’m going to make sure it’s worth it.

 

For a moment I felt bad I had let my mother down, but what did she really give me? Life? She was just trying to save her own. She didn’t even give me a name, but now I had one, from him. What ’s more, I had a family, little did they know it.

 

I smiled to myself and decided to see if I could make Officer Meln blush again.

 

Tomorrow and every day after, my name would be something else, but that day for that moment, my name was Dorne.

 

 

 

 

 

Note:

 

 

I made up Elara's parents names.

 

 

That was so awesome! I can't wait to see more! Also, I like the names you have for Elara's parents.

[Striges]

Prompt: Guilty Pleasures

 

Title: Too Close for Comfort

 

Characters: Rixik (male Twi'lek Mercenary), Korjonos (male Chiss Sniper)

 

This sort of qualifies for one of the themes this week. Had it hanging around for a while since I couldn’t get the idea out of my head after leveling through Imperial Balmorra.

 

 

Korjonos and Rixik stood in opposite corners of the elevator. Neither said a word. Korjonos selected the floor, and the lift began it’s descent. Both of them focused their attention on the counter above the door.

 

Finally, Korjonos spoke, “So, Darth Lachris,” he said.

 

The elevator dropped another floor. “Kinky,” said Rixik.

 

Another three floors. “Let’s not—“ Korjonos began.

 

“No,” agreed Rixik.

 

“No.”

 

“No. Just no,” Rixik coughed into his hand, “not again.”

 

“Stars, no,” exclaimed Korjonos, “Never happened.”

 

“Never happened,” agreed Rixik. They fell silent. The elevator doors opened at their destination, “You see that huttball game the other day?”

 

“Rotworms lost, yeah?” replied Korjonos.

 

“Frog-dogs knocked half their team into an acid pit,” Rixik held back, waiting for Korjonos to exit the lift, “Epic.”

 

Korjonos stepped out into the lobby, “You got a holo?” he asked.

 

 

 

Notes:

If you’ve played a male character through Imperial Balmorra, you’re no doubt aware you can hook up with Darth Lachris. She isn’t fade-to-black-able (is that a verb?) when you’re in a group with other players. You get all the flirt options, just not the (kiss) one. Perhaps protecting the game’s PG-13 rating. Or perhaps just avoiding awkward conversations like this one:

 

[Tatile]

Family: Part 2

Words: 2,451

 

 

 

 

Rochester took a small sip of his champagne, tilted his head just slightly to the side, smiled and politely excused himself. Lord Stion'n had entered the ballroom, with Lord Amilia behind. All eyes were on him as he approached the women; he could feel the change in conversation, if not hear it. He bowed with overt formality to them both and the whispering all but stopped.

 

"My Lords, it is a pleasure and an honour."

 

Lord Stion'n offered him her hand, making sure to look around the room with exaggerated disdain.

 

"Lieutenant," She to him spoke with the expected appropriate mixture of delight and displeasure. Rochester kissed the back of her hand with almost devout reverence. He looked deep into her eyes and waited, wondering if anyone would notice that they were making this up as they went along. "My dear man, have you met my good friend, Lord Amilia?"

 

There was a collective intake of breath. It had not escaped anyone's notice that Lord Amilia was a Twi'lek and, if the quickly spreading rumours were to be believed, a previous slave of the estate. Still holding the hand of his would-be wife, Rochester bowed.

 

"It is a rare honour to meet those who Lord Stion'n would consider her friends, my Lord. You are as radiant as the dawn." Rochester drew his gaze down over Lord Amilia's form, following the curves of her bust into her waist and finally her hips, before flicking back and meeting her eyes. It was quick movement, but one bound to be noticed by everyone around them. Lord Amilia, to her credit, did not smile, but scowled and dismissed him, picking up her own glass of champagne from a nearby serving girl.

 

"Lieutenant, darling," Stion'n threaded her arm through his and reached for a glass. "Let's get away from this dreadful draft, shall we?" She led him away from the door, to a little vacant corner near to a group of older, and rather conservative, members of his father's family. "Alderaanian romance novels." She whispered in his ear. No one could see her lips move, but everyone knew she had said something. One of the nearby gentlemen raised his glass to Rochester in a small toast, giving him a look of encouragement and slight pity. Lord Amilia joined them and the conversation of other groups turned to business and matters of the war.

 

"Is this one suitable?" Lord Amilia looked Rochester over with far more care and attention than he had her. He felt like a hound being inspected by a potential master. As she started to speak of his muscle tone, he became grateful for the civilian fashion he was wearing. The various bits of drapery, which had so annoyed him earlier, were now feeling more like a boon than a burden. Stion'n smiled.

 

"Oh, we'll see," She reached around and pinched Rochester's bottom. He jumped in the appropriate manner. The two women shared an almost predatory smile. The group closest to them edged slowly away, giving them a wide berth of privacy. "So, what's the plan, Lieutenant?"

 

"Hands first."

 

"Oh, they're not that much of a problem." Stion'n smiled up at him, still patting and squeezing. Rochester sighed, but decided it best not to press the point.

 

"I've not seen my brother at all, but I can certainly guess at what he has planned," Stion'n looked at him expectantly and then moved her hand just a little bit too low. "Hands." Rochester jerked away and at last, Stion'n relented.

 

"Fine, have it your way."

 

"Thank you," Stion'n threw up her hands in mock surrender and finished the last of her champagne. "I expect Geoffrey to turn up in a few minutes, talk about this wonderful family tie that's going to happen between someone's bank account and another person's asteroid mine. And then he'll expect us to talk about our wonderful family tie: between a reject, Force-blind who sleeps with men and the daughter of a dead Sith lord with no blood except her own mother."

 

"Not bitter at all, are you?" Her words chilled him and Rochester suddenly realised who he had insulted. Before he could offer an apology, Stion'n had grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to eye level. "Remember, I am doing you a favour. I could just as easily force you into this and keep you far, far away from that little green man of yours." She kissed him on the lips, bruising them and fiercely illustrating her point. As she released him, Rochester looked around the room. Broan was watching them, ignoring the people around him, his expression unreadable. Rochester tried to hold his gaze, to mouth an apology, but Broan was distracted and returned to his conversation.

 

"What is it you plan to do, Stion'n? You can't improvise the entire thing and hope people will understand." Amilia drew the last of Stion'n's attention from Rochester and the two women moved to one side.

 

"Oh, I only intend to tell the truth."

 

Their conversation quickly lapsed into more relaxed topics, none of which Rochester wanted to pay too much attention to. He had not realised how intimidating a boring Sith conversation could be; they had moved onto the subject of sexual conquests when Rochester decided it was best to tune them out. He tried in vain to regain Broan's attention, but to no avail. Though he had not been to many champagne receptions in his life, Rochester had always known they would end up like this and hated it. He could not sit down or leave the room, both would be unimaginable improper. His position was precarious enough without further angering his father's family.

 

Rochester groaned. In another bid to catch Broan's eye he had instead caught sight of his sister, who was now carefully manoeuvring through the crowd.

 

"Oh dear brother of mine," Benedicta bowed slightly to Stion'n and Amilia, who nodded to her and continued their discussion of physical Force limitations. "I met that man of yours earlier. He should really be more careful with what he says, especially around family."

 

"Is it really so hard for you people to fathom that Lord Naught is his own person?"

 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forget myself," Benedicta smiled, her face a malicious version of his own. "You are the property here, aren't you? Allowing yourself to pushed and pulled about by a lowly Jedi, it's pathetic, really, but I expect nothing less of you."

 

Rochester snarled and clenched his fists, nails biting into the flesh of his palms.

 

"Really, you're the one who should be careful."

 

"Do you think so? You flatter yourself if you think you could best me, little brother." Rochester fixed her with a glare and her smile widened.

 

"We're the same age, if you'd deign to remember."

 

"But we aren't the same, now are we?"

 

"No, you're right," Rochester softened his tone. He had seen an opening in Benedicta's defence. It would be a low blow, but he did not much care. "Mother always favoured me; that's why she trained me instead of you."

 

Benedicta narrowed her eyes and smiled.

 

"Well at least I haven't got metal for guts, little brother." She left before Rochester could respond, but the damage was done. Unconsciously he touched his side; he could feel the largest implant, even through his clothes. For a second he felt the overwhelming urge to rip it out, to dig his fingers into his own stomach and pull out all the strange, unnatural hardware. With some effort, he was able to dismiss the thought; he had tried removing his implants before and had almost killed himself. He looked around again, trying to find Broan. Rochester knew he would get some small measure of comfort if he could just look into those brown eyes for a moment.

 

"My Lords. My guests." Geoffrey's simpering voice echoed through the ballroom, turning all heads toward him. Though his features were similar to his siblings, his hair was a dirty shade of brown and eyes varied between dull green and duller brown. He was a few years older, well into his mid-thirties and had a pretty young thing on his arm. She was smiling and waving to everyone. Evidently, she was of the new breed of socialites that were cropping up: attractive and given the best education, but not terribly bright and certainly completely oblivious to the workings of high society. Stion'n appeared at Rochester's arm as the moved to the front of the crowd. He went to put an arm around her shoulder, but she shrugged him off.

 

"Who is she?" She prodded him in the side and kept her voice a whisper.

 

"That's Pearl Saathen, the youngest in the Saathen family."

 

"And the favourite?" Stion'n looked at him, her brow arched knowingly. Rochester nodded, confirming her suspicions.

 

"I am so glad that you could all join me and my darling Pearl, here today to celebrate the official announcement of our engagement," Geoffrey pulled the young women in close, wrapping his arm around her waist. She gasped in mock surprise and then flashed a disgustingly large ring to the crowd. They all made agreeable noises but were not impressed. "This will be the union of two persons, of two houses and of two great businesses. To the Windthorpes," Geoffrey picked up the offered glass and raised it as a toast. "And to the Saathens."

 

Stion'n prodded Rochester as everyone joined in the toast. Geoffrey had turned his attention to them and was smiling expectantly. Rochester smiled back, hiding just how much he hated the man.

 

"I see that my brother has been able to join us; what a rare pleasure."

 

All attention turned to Rochester and Stion'n. Though stood side-by-side, they did not have the airs of a couple, even one that was pre-arranged. Pearl beamed her smile even bigger than before, if that were possible.

 

"The invitation was quite explicit, Geoffrey, and my Captain permitted me leave to attend." Rochester fell into a military pose, feet slightly apart, hands held behind his back. He wanted to make this as uncomfortable for Geoffrey as possible.

 

"I see that Lord Stion'n is your guest, how delightful." Geoffrey bowed slightly to the Pureblood. It was not the bow of a man to a better, but the bow of a man to an equal. Whispers, almost like electricity, ran through the crowd. Stion'n folded her arms and dropped her weight onto one leg. The air about her *****led with energy.

 

"No, that would Lord Naught. I'm here because I wanted to show up this pathetic little display of yours," Geoffrey's face fell. He had not been expecting such a reaction. "You didn't invite my mother, but that's ok, I'll tell her what happened."

 

"Are... are you not going to confirm...?"

 

"No." Stion'n walked up to the couple, the air around her rippling and turning red.

 

"Lord Stion'n and I have come to an agreement, Geoffrey."

 

The crowd parted, allowing Lord Vizloch and Lord Naught to the front. Geoffrey reflexively bowed to his mother and blanched when he saw Broan. Rochester attempted to catch Broan's eye. Broan smiled back at him, having finally realised the play.

 

"You're got your marriage with this lovely little air-head," Stion'n focused on Pearl for a moment, looking her up and down. "That dress makes you look fat," Pearl shuddered and clung to Geoffrey's arm ever tighter. "You shouldn't have expected us to fall into your little plan."

 

"Little plan?" Geoffrey gave a half-hearted chuckled. "I don't know what you are talking about my Lord."

 

"Don't be an idiot, Geoffrey. Everyone knows what you're doing." Rochester shrugged and slowly made his way to Broan's side. The Mirialin took his hand, interlacing their fingers.

 

"Really that's pathetic. Trying to make your own engagement seem all the more exciting by having a Sith get engaged at the same time?"

 

Stion'n spoke with such contempt that Pearl became pale and started to shake. No one came to her aid and she fled from the ballroom.

 

"I would not have presumed such a thing, my Lord. I-"

 

"You presumed an awful lot, Geoffrey. This was an agreement between our mothers, not between Lord Stion'n and I. You have forgotten that." Broan squeezed his hand as he spoke, granting more reassurance than he had ever expected.

 

"And that little agreement is now over."

 

Lord Vizloch stepped out from the crow to stand before her oldest son.

 

"With Lady Fidrocia Dimatier in confinement did you really suppose that you could force her daughter into marriage? This was never your concern, Geoffrey, and all you have done is to heap scorn upon yourself. You should have left well alone."

 

She strode past her son and out of the ballroom. Benedicta followed soon after, leaving Geoffrey to face Lord Stion'n alone. The crowd also dispersed, gathering into smaller clumps as before. Their attention was still on the host, of course, but they made no show of this.

 

"My Lord... you have my sincerest apologies... I did not," Geoffrey tried to compose himself, but in truth he had never faced any angry Sith without his mother's protection. "It was not my intention to attempt to force you, my Lord, or my brother into an arrangement that was not... of your liking."

 

"Just shut up and go away, before I lose my temper," Geoffrey obliged, almost running from the room. "You two look cute together." From Stion'n it seemed almost a challenge, rather than a compliment. Suddenly she groaned and doubled-over, clutching her ribs.

 

"We had a lovely time, gentlemen," Lord Amilia glided to the Pureblood's side, quickly wrapping the woman's chest in purple energy. "She's so stubborn sometimes. Do be sure to call." She led Stion'n carefully from the room, supporting her every step.

 

Broan and Rochester stood in silence for a few moments. Rochester looked at his partner's hand in his, rubbing the green skin with his thumb.

 

"I'm sorry about earlier." Broan leant over and kissed Rochester's cheek.

 

"You don't need to apologise, I should have told you everything first."

 

"Yes, you should have," Broan poked the tip of his tongue out, punctuating his teasing tone. "But you didn't know what Stion'n had planned.

 

"She didn't really have anything planned, it just sort of..."

 

"Fell into place?" They chuckled and Broan moved his arm around Rochester's waist, pulling him into an embrace. In turn, Rochester placed his hands on Broan's shoulders.

 

"Are we going to dance now?"

 

"Well yes, but not here," They kissed and Broan pulled back, grinning mischievously. "I was hoping I could get a private dance?"

 

"I believe that can be arranged."

 

They left the ballroom, hand in hand.

 

 

 

 

Note:

 

 

Hate it hate it hate it

 

 

 

Sorry for this being so late, it just REFUSED to work. I really don't think this is up to my usual standards, so sorry for the slog :/

 

I think for the next for the next two prompts I'll stick to shorter pieces.

 

 

@Striges: I love you. I now have a Guilty Pleasures prompt. Probably Stion'n. Definitely involving a lift.

Edited August 4, 2012 by Tatile

[irishfino]

Prompt: Guilty Pleasures

Characters: Malavai Quinn and LS!Jaesa Wilsaam

Set in the Ninety Seven Percent universe.

These two are too fun to play with.

 

 

Ah, perfect. He moved the hovering magnifying lens up and out of the way to examine his work. It had been some time since he had indulged this particular urge. With the goings on, near death, frequent terrors ( just dreams, don’t be dramatic) and panic attacks (just palpitations, nothing more) he had found little urge for his hobbies. Jaesa was persistent, of course, that he reaffirm his love for… whatever it was he loved. And she knew he loved something, no matter how adamant he was about a “professional enjoyment”. And it really bothered her when he used that phrase about their private time together (stop being dramatic).

 

“Is that a rancor?” someone asked, suddenly behind him.

 

He started and barely stifled a shout. He spun on his stool to face his intruder with wide-eyes.

 

“I gave you my door code for emergencies only, Jaesa,” he said reproachfully.

 

“You missed lunch,” she stated.

 

He tilted his head for a moment, calculating the exact hour. He had missed lunch. By two hours. He sighed quietly then nodded to her. “Yes, it is a rancor,” he said softly.

 

“Were you painting it?”

 

He nodded quietly. He waited for her to laugh at his whimsy, to tell him it was a stupid hobby and he was a stupid man for enjoying it. A military man with such a silly hobby, hah. Jaesa stepped around where he was sitting on the stool and grabbed a different miniature off the desk. It was a rather angry looking Darth Marr.

 

“This is incredible!” she exclaimed.

 

“Really?” he asked, disbelief edging into his voice. When she nodded, he preened. “I sculpt them, as well.”

 

“You’re so talented, Malavai, why do you hide this?”

 

“My father said it was a weakness, to have a hobby, something you enjoy doing,” he explained.

 

“I’m not a weakness, am I?” she asked innocently.

 

He made a choking noise and sputtered something about “indignities”. She laughed softly at his discomfort. Even in private, he was a private man. Which made no sense (it makes perfect sense, don’t be silly).

 

“What others have you made?” she asked as she set Darth Marr next to the rancor. Quinn swiftly moved Marr to another spot on his desk, far away from the freshly painted rancor. Jaesa laughed under her breath. He shot her a look before opening a drawer filled with neatly lined miniatures. He picked one, seemingly at random, and handed it to her. She recognized it immediately.

 

“Oh, wow,” she breathed in astonishment.

 

The level of detail was amazing. The hair looked real enough to brush, the eyes stared back calmly. Even the lightsaber hilt had the intricate design of the real thing. She waited for the tiny woman in the palm of her hand to spring to life. When she didn’t (not that she was disappointed), she placed the figure on his desk.

 

“That is… me,” she said quietly.

 

“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly. “I have sculpted the entire crew, the Dark Council, some tombs on Korriban, Elara Dorne, and many miscellaneous military personnel I have encountered during my career. I even sculpted Broysc once. Not sure where that one got off to.” Out an airlock with the real Broysc.

 

“Who’s Elara Dorne?”

 

“A woman I courted before her defection to the Republic,” he said plainly.

 

She nodded sagely, withholding comment on his use of “courting”. It was a perfectly valid way to describe a non-professional, intimate relationship, he argued. Yes, yes, she said to placate him. He pouted for days after that conversation. In private, of course.

 

“Do you have a mini-you in that drawer?” she asked sweetly.

 

“Naturally.”

 

“Can I see him?” she giggled.

 

“I’m not quite sure what is so funny,” he huffed.

 

“Just gimme!” she said impatiently. She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers in front of his face. He batted her hand away gently. From his drawer he pulled out a little Malavai Quinn (dressed in Imperial greys, naturally) and handed it to her. She smiled at the figure in her hand. He had even painted his moles. Though she shouldn’t have been so surprised at his level of detail, he was the Darth of anal behavior. Quickly, she snatched the mini-Jaesa and took a few steps back from where Quinn was seated. He fixed her with a quizzical look. Giggling, she made the two figures kiss and added her own sound effects.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked. He knew what she was doing, he more wanted to know why.

 

“I’m not doing it, they are!” she giggled.

 

He shook his head at her frivolity. He reached her in two measured steps, but she danced away from his reach.

 

“Be careful,” he said softly. “Those are fragile.”

 

“Don’t seem to be,” she giggled, still smooshing their faces together.

 

“That’s something Vette would do, if she found my collection,” he said plainly.

 

She immediately stopped her behavior. He smirked. That always made her stop unwanted behavior. Gently, he pried them from her suddenly still hands. He looked at the tiny couple cupped in his hand and smiled.

 

“They do look awfully good together,” she said softly.

 

“Yes,” he said equally as soft, “they complement each other well.”

 

He curled his fingers around the two figures gently. Turning on his heel, he cleared his desk of his supplies and placed his miniatures in their proper places. Satisfied that all was where it should be, he turned to Jaesa.

 

“Now, I do believe I have missed lunch,” Quinn stated.

 

Jaesa squeaked an “oh” and ran from the room. Out of breath, she ran back into the room with a small basket in her hands. He fixed her with a small smile as she set about laying out her picnic supplies. It was another guilty pleasure of his, these quiet, intimate times. Jaesa finally sat down and patted a spot next to her. He bowed to her gratefully before taking a seat to her right. He turned his head to face her.

 

“Life imitates art, don’t you think?” he asked lightly.

 

When she turned her head to answer, he leaned forward to capture her lips. She giggled and pulled him atop her. Lunch was forgotten for a while after.

 

 

 

EDIT:

 

Notes:

 

Fixed a few errors I spotted later. The italicized text is Quinn interjecting his thoughts. He's rather pushy. I prefer insistent. Anyway, I was going to make the figure Darth Malgus as a nod to the collector's edition (which I do not have, but Malgus looks so cool), but I went with Marr.He wears a mask, how can he look angry?Stance, my dear Watson. Angry stance.

 

Edited August 4, 2012 by irishfino

[Magdalane]

Prompt: Guilty Pleasures

Miriah and Corso (again, I know) waiting on ship repairs on Coruscant

 

 

Corso was now officially suspicious. Twice now in as many days, he’d walked into a room and Miriah had shut down whatever she was reading on her datapad, quickly and without making any comment at all about it. Not only that, but since they’d been stuck on Courscant, she’d been , for lack of a better word, secretive. What is going on here, he thought. They’d been lovers for a while now, shared quarters and more. But her profession was charm, and he’d been easily distracted from what she was doing, until now. Now, she’d told him she was going out with the “girls” but Risha had just told him she had a date. He didn’t like the feeling of dread he was getting. He didn’t think she was seeing someone else, that wasn’t like her, but he did fear she’d gotten mixed up in something, possibly a dangerous something, and was keeping it to herself.

 

He was sitting in the lounge when she came out of their quarters, dressed simply but casually. She didn’t have a visible blaster on her, but he knew she wouldn’t venture anywhere without a hold out blaster strapped to her ankle. She’d left her hair down, but that would fit with her cover story about a girl’s night. She leaned down to kiss him, and he felt a little zing of excitement from her. He told her he’d be here if she needed anything, and she hugged him to her. He could feel that she had something on under her clothes, but not what it was. She left him with a smile, and he almost just let her go, but he still felt that dread and knew he would follow her. When she’d hugged him, he’d slipped a tracker in her jacket pocket, a very small one. He’d have to be in fairly close range to pick it up, but he let her get a half hour lead on him, in case she’d doubled back to check that he was still on the ship.

 

He’d followed her for a while, slipping into the shadows when she stopped to window shop, and once he’d ducked into a cantina when she’d spun in his direction, fearing he’d been spotted. After about an hour the tracker stopped in one spot, but he couldn’t see her. He looked all over the area, getting closer and closer, before he realized she’d left her jacket on a chair in an outdoor café’. Sighing, he picked up the jacket, and on his way back to the ship decided he might as well have a drink. He ducked back into the cantina he’d only briefly visited before and found a tiny booth, placing his order with the droid. He’d just gotten his drink when he heard music start up. He turned his head and noticed the band, starting a set of music. He’d turned back to his drink, wondering if Miriah was okay, when he heard the voice. The vocalist was singing a song about desire, and it was vaguely familiar, but he still didn’t look up until she laughed. He whipped his head around, but the crowd had grown and he couldn’t see the stage now.

 

He rose, and started to work his way to the stage, knowing in his gut that Miriah was singing. Her smoky, throaty voice was sexy in speech, but mesmerizing in song. By the time the third song started, he no longer needed to see her to know. That was their song she’d started, and when he finally got in sight of her, he realized she was singing it for him. She knew he was there! She found his eyes at the chorus, and never looked away. He was stunned at her voice, he’d heard her vocalize before but never in song. He just watched, stepping closer to the stage as the set continued. When the last note echoed and the crowd erupted in applause, she thanked them and stepped to the edge of the stage to motion him forward.

 

“This is Phillip, he’s an old friend of mine,” she told him, “and the leader of this band. I’m thankful they let me sing with them sometimes.”

 

“Thankful?” Phillip said, incredulous. “We make three times the money when you sing, Mir. You’ve got a standing gig with us anytime.” She giggled at that, thanked the other musicians, and made her way back to Corso. He took her hand, and led her to the tiny booth.

 

“You followed me,” she said, but her expression told him she wasn’t angry. “And, I see, you found my jacket.” She reached in the pocket and removed the tiny tracker, which glowed green. “Why?”

 

Corso blushed, and stammered, “It’s not what you think, Miriah, I was worried you’d gotten caught up in something that put you in a dangerous situation. You tend to do that, you know. Why didn’t you tell me you liked to sing? And that you’re damn good at it?”

 

Now it was her turn to blush. “I just do it because it relaxes me. I hate to have anyone I know come to hear me, because that wouldn’t be relaxing.” She looked at her hands, then back to him. “Until tonight, anyway. I enjoyed watching you when I was singing.” He got up and pulled her up, leading her out of the cantina. They took a taxi back to the spaceport, and still they’d not talked, he just held her hand in his. As they went to their quarters, he turned and locked the door.

 

“Sing, Miriah, just for me,” he told her softly.

 

 

 

 

I used to sing with a small band, and Miriah has a musical soul.

 

[irishfino]

Prompt: Guilty Pleasures

 

Title: Too Close for Comfort

 

Characters: Rixik (male Twi'lek Mercenary), Korjonos (male Chiss Sniper)

 

Mako was so disappointed in me when I did her... I mean this. I did it (Lachris) out of spite. Take that, Mako.

 

Family: Part 2

Words: 2,451

 

Glad you posted it, even though you hate it. It was good.

 

Prompt: Guilty Pleasures

Miriah and Corso (again, I know) waiting on ship repairs on Coruscant

 

Your Corso is adorable. I despise in-game Corso. I purposely kill/be mean to women around him.

...

I may have issues.

[Tatile]

Glad you posted it, even though you hate it. It was good.

 

Thank you, it took forever. I probably need to write Broan and Stion'n having a talk, or something, but first I want to do some Amilia/Stion'n stuff.

 

Not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Edited August 4, 2012 by Tatile

[Magdalane]

 

Not like that. Get your mind out of the gutter.

 

Now, what fun would that be? I loved it, Tatile. I get my Sithy fixes from you guys.

[Striges]

@Kabeone: sorry for the late comment, but this was interesting to read. Nice that you spotted Dorne in Imperial Intelligence HQ too.

 

@Irishfino: I can totally imagine Quinn with a fiddly little hobby like this. And as far as the fling with Lachris goes, I just pictured the flirting with these three spiraling out of control for at least for two of them. Rixik isn't exactly scrupulous but...yeah, well, that wasn't quite how he he expected events to play out.

 

@Magdalane: sweet. Just really sweet.

 

@Tatile: Sense and Sensibility and Sith? And I fear for what I have inspired. In a good way, of course. My snippet was just off-the-cuff silliness. I hadn't even intended to post it, but it fit (kind of), I had it lying around, and it made me giggle.

[Tatile]

You know, it's strange, but I've never read Jane Austen XD I'm much more into foreign authors at the moment.

[Striges]

I'm in the middle of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies right now, and your whole formal-dinner-party vibe had a remarkable similarity. With the verbal games, social positioning, etc. Edited August 4, 2012 by Striges
spelling

[kabeone]

Yay, so much good stuff to read.

 

@Striges that Guilty Pleasures cracked me up, super funny

 

@Tatile Rochester! do i need to say more? no. I don't. <3 Rochester+Broan I'm really glad you posted that.

 

@irishfino Your Quinn and Jaesa are the sweetest. I imagine that's why you can't romance LS Jaesa if you're a mWar, she's got a secret thing going with Quinn. shhhhhh.

 

@Magdalane Miriah is so sweet. My fSmug would beat the heck out of Corso for following her.

[irishfino]

Set in the Ninety Seven Percent universe.

 

Prompt: Celebrations

Characters: Malavai Quinn and Lt. Pierce

 

Alcohol + Quinn + Pierce =

 

 

Quinn sat in the galley, quietly nursing a glass of Corellian wine. Today marked the anniversary of Elara Dorne’s defection and the official end to their relationship. Looking back, he was happily ignorant of her disagreements with Imperials bending over backwards to accommodate their Sith overlords. He even casually dismissed her talk of defection. Which, he admitted years later, he had dismissed on the ground of “I much rather like her”.

 

Candle lights, wine, the whole nine. He may not admit to being romantic, but this was certainly an overly romantic setting for two Imperial officers enjoying a quiet dinner.

 

“They compromise their morals, Quinn,” Elara said angrily. “It’s sickening to watch.”

 

“There’s not much you can do about it, Dorne,” he said gently. “It’s the way the Empire is run.” He took a sip of wine to signal the end of the conversation.

 

“I could defect,” she said plainly.

 

He spat out his wine in surprise. She could what? “That would be… unwise.”

 

She bristled. “Are you threatening me?”

 

“No,” he said softly, setting his glass on the table.

 

“Then why would it be unwise to defect?” she asked angrily, cutting into the meat on her plate with a little too much vigor.

 

“I could list a hundred ways easily, Dorne,” he intoned.

 

“Then do it,” she challenged.

 

And he did. It made little difference in the long run. She still left. And so, each year to the day, he poured an ounce of wine from their last meal together and drank it slowly to savor the flavor and the memories of a love lost long ago. This year, the bottle had finally gone dry. Time to finally let it rest.

 

“Didn’t know you drank, Captain,” Pierce said, plopping down next to the smaller man.

 

“I’ve been known to imbibe on occasion,” Quinn stated.

 

Pierce picked up the bottle from the small table and glanced at the label.

 

“Ooh, fancy stuff. Prefer Hutt Tequila myself.”

 

“’Helps remove the panties faster’, yes I remember,” Quinn said into his glass. Pierce chuckled next to him. Maybe the Captain wasn’t a lost cause after all.

 

“What’s the occasion?” Pierce asked.

 

“Remembrance.”

 

“Someone close to you?”

 

“You could say that,” Quinn agreed.

 

“You know, a few years ago, I ran into a girl on Taris. Republic uni, Imperial accent,” Pierce said lowly. “She asked me to pass on a message to someone if I ever met them. Wasn’t sure I’d ever meet the bloke, what with being stationed on that chemical runoff, backwater planet.”

 

Quinn placed his glass onto the small table for fear of dropping it. Of all the people in the galaxy…

 

“She said his initials were M. Q. and that she was ‘sorry for leaving without a word’,” Pierce said, staring at Quinn sidelong. “Any idea what that means, mate?”

 

Quinn stared at the empty bottle on the table and swallowed.

 

“No, Lieutenant,” he said, a bit too much emotion in his voice for his liking, “I do not.”

 

“Didn’t think you would. Fancy a harder drink?”

 

“Yes, please,” Quinn said in a rush.

 

Pierce chuckled. “Figured you might.”

 

Pierce headed to the liquor cabinet and returned with two shot glasses and a bottle of blue liquor that looked oddly… glow-y. Pierce shoved the glass into Quinn’s hand and poured the alcohol before the Captain could change his mind. Quinn knocked it back quickly and held out his glass for another.

 

“Wow, you knocked that back like a champ,” Pierce chuckled, pouring the man another shot before filling his own glass. “Cheers, mate.”

 

Quinn clinked his glass to Pierce’s then slammed the second shot down. Pierce stared at him with wide eyes.

 

“Didn’t know you drank, Captain,” Pierce said in astonishment.

 

“I’ve been known to imbibe on occasion,” Quinn repeated.

 

Pierce clapped the smaller man on the shoulder and laughed.

 

“You ain’t half bad, Captain,” he said, still chuckling.

 

“You haven’t met the other half,” Quinn said lightly.

 

Pierce laughed uproariously. Quinn afforded him a small upward curling of his lips. Camaraderie at its finest. And drunkest.

 

 

 

 

Elara Dorne and Malavai Quinn is one of my favorite "It could totally happen, but it probably didn't, but it would be so awesome" NPC relationships. This is my first serious post about those two. Another post (that I can't link here because the site itself is naughty, though what I wrote is not), was part of a round robin Speed Dating Prompt (hilarious results, by the way).

 

Now, Quinn seems like a man who can hold his liquor, if only because he has trained to do so (ever the perfectionist).

 

Edited August 5, 2012 by irishfino

[Magdalane]

 

@Magdalane Miriah is so sweet. My fSmug would beat the heck out of Corso for following her.

 

She expected him to, she knew he was in the crowd, remember? She knows him too well.

[elliotcat]

@Irishfino, omg I loved Jaesa with the little models. Too funny!

 

@Magdalene, Miriah's Corso is lucky that she has such a nice hobby/talent! Very sweet - I demand more of the kitten though.

 

Guilty pleasures, been wanting to write this one for ages now...

 

Human LS Sith Warrior Aranea Senecio, also Jaesa, Vette, and Quinn.

 

 

"Vette! It's time!"

 

I leaned into her room, my hands on the doorway, and watched her drop the slicing tools she'd been holding. "Yes! I'm so excited!" Grinning from ear to ear, she trailed me down the hallway and into Jaesa's room.

 

"Jaesa!" I called. "Our show is on!"

 

Jaesa stepped out of her room, fidgeting with her hands. She always did that when she was excited. The three of us eagerly hurried to the holoterminal, our excitement feeding off one another, and dragged a couch over to the terminal. Vette started tuning it to the proper channel as Jaesa and I settled into our usual places.

 

"My lord," I heard someone say behind me. "I fail to understand why you insist on watching this...drivel. It is most unbecoming."

 

"Oh, stuff it, Quinn," I said. "You know we've stopped listening to your complaining."

 

"Besides," Vette said, settling down on the couch beside me, "you always say you're gonna leave, and then you stand there and watch it too."

 

"It is oddly...addictive."

 

"Shh!" Jaesa said, tapping her fingers on the couch in anticipation. "It's starting!"

 

Vette and I leaned forward to listen to the announcer.

 

"Tonight, on an all new Force of Love..."

 

Vette and I clasped hands and squealed.

 

"Six men remain in the running for the hand of eligible Sith Lord Serissa Alryxis. Seven of their competitors have already been struck down for their failure to impress Lord Alryxis. Tonight, she takes the remaining suitors on dates in Dromund Kaas to see how they fare among the Empire's elite. And, a secret WILL be revealed that will change the game for everyone. Who will be eliminated - literally - tonight?

 

"I love this show," I said.

 

 

 

Notes:

 

ugh I clearly watched waaaay too many of these types of shows in college...

 

Edited August 5, 2012 by elliotcat

[Magdalane]

Elliotcat, Lucky the lynx kitten is primarily in the novella. This thread is primarily Miriah when she's still in her story arc, so she hasn't rescued Lucky yet, but if you want I'll put some kitten stuff up just for you I only used a chapter of my full story before for the discovery prompt because I was in the writing process with it when the prompt came up.

 

And, if only the contestants really DID get eliminated, I might watch some of those shows myself! LOL!

Edited August 5, 2012 by Magdalane

[elliotcat]

Elliotcat, Lucky the lynx kitten is primarily in the novella. This thread is primarily Miriah when she's still in her story arc, so she hasn't rescued Lucky yet, but if you want I'll put some kitten stuff up just for you I only used a chapter of my full story before for the discovery prompt because I was in the writing process with it when the prompt came up.

 

And, if only the contestants really DID get eliminated, I might watch some of those shows myself! LOL!

 

Have I missed your novella thread somehow?? I might cry if I did.

 

I'm trying to work on one too, but I guess I haven't been motivated enough. I'm thinking I'll just finish it and then post it all in one go...but putting some bits here might be a good motivation, and it would make me feel an awful lot better if I weren't the only one who did it!

[Magdalane]

I started it here then moved it. Here's the first chapter link:

http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=461275

 

I'm currently getting ready to post ch 60 (60!) on the other site listed in the thread.

[Crezelle]

guilty pleasures.... theres so many of them i could write one for each toon.

 

Agent Crezelle

 

Allergy warning: contains nuts. takes part almost immediately after my nightmare pilgrim story. Rather short. I do wish they had furnishings for your ships. cause gosh dang-it i want a hot tub.

 

 

 

" You keep on knockin' but you can't come in~" Crez half sang, half shouted at the pounding fists on the other side of the cargo bay door. The last operation she partook medic duties on was an astounding success, and granted her enough credits to supply her ship for an entire year, pay off her crew, AND save enough to outfit her ship with a collapse-able jacuzzi she kept secretly hidden from the other crew when not in use.

 

Eventually the pounding on the door subsided; obviously whatever they needed could wait. They would HAVE to wait. The Voss shaman's were clear: she was under a huge spell of mental fatigue, and simply HAD to take it easy. So, with doctor's orders firmly established, the whole darn galaxy can go **** itself while Crez had some alone time.

 

With her brand-spankin-new jacuzzi.

And several bottles of tequila.

And the latest season of " My Little Bantha: Friendship is the Force" downloaded onto her holo, along with " The Manka King"

AND a whole crate of tapani chocolate truffles.

AND.....

 

The door pounded again.

" Open up! bugboy says he smells chocolate and tequila in there!" She heard Kaliyo roar demandingly. **** those senses of his some days...

" Nope. Not gonna happen~" Crez replied, in a sing-songing voice as she swigged a mouth full of tequila.

This be MY jacuzzi. NOBODY else gets to use it. N.O.B.O.D.Y

 

She sighed smugly, and sank all of herself up to her eyes and nose in the bubbling water, deafening the sounds of the ship as her ears went under the water level. A rubber duck bobbed around in the bubbles on the opposite side of the tub. Under the water her mouth curled in a sly smile, and slowly, lazily she stalked the little toy as the jet currents pushed it around, pretending to be some horror-movie swamp monster.......

 

 

Edited August 5, 2012 by Crezelle

[Tatile]

Guilty Pleasures:

Amilia and Stion'n

 

 

Amilia called the lift and waited. She and Stion'n were on a semi-formal visit to the Ministry of Logistics. It had been Stion'n's idea to have their own ship and crew, but when it finally came to retrieving the preliminary requisitions forms, she was nowhere to be seen. A Captain stood next to her as they waited for the lift, she could not quite remember his name. He caught her eye and smiled, seeming somewhat embarrassed despite his station. She smiled back and punched the lift button again. At last, the lift doors opened. There was a sharp in-take of breath and Amilia could feel the tension building in the Captain's chest. Amilia's eyes widened and she reached into to close the doors.

 

"Hello Ami." Stion'n waved, giving the Captain a cheeky smile. She was fiddling with the front of her bra, the outer layers of her armour littering the floor. An extremely embarrassed young soldier was also trying to dress herself, albeit much faster.

 

"Captain L--! My Lord! Uh... ah... my apologies... please, I...uh..." The woman was running around the lift, trying to find her uniform under Stion'n's various pieces of armour.

 

"Goodbye, Stion'n." Amilia closed the lift doors just as the Pureblood pulled the young woman into another kiss.

 

"I am not sure who that was, my Lord, but I will see that she is disciplined appropriately." The Captain adjusted his hat, attempting use his arms to hide the blush that had turned his face red.

 

"No need, Captain. Lord Stion'n obviously likes that woman, you would only be angering her if you discipline the soldier," Amilia paused for a second as she called the second lift. "Perhaps we could have her on our ship; it may help to keep Lord Stion'n calm during our trips."

 

"Of course, my Lord." The Captain followed her into the lift, still flushed hot and walking awkwardly.

 

"Calm yourself, Captain; I'm not one to have sex in a lift."

 

The Captain almost chocked on his own tongue at these words.

 

"My Lord, I would never assume such a thing." His voice was a sputtering mess and he seemed to tripping over his own tongue.

 

"Good. You would need to buy me dinner first."

 

 

 

Quick, silly and stupid

[Magdalane]

Prompt: Celebrations

This is part of my legacy story mentioned earlier in this thread. Miriah , Maura and Magdalane are sisters, Sarai their mom. Setting: Sarai's 50th birthday.

 

 

“Nice venue, lots of history here,” noted Lt. Aric Jorgen. Corso had just met him, but was impressed with the tall Cathar’s knowledge. They were standing in the banquet room in the Senate Plaza on Coruscant, where his mother in law’s birthday party was being readied. Corso was nervous; he’d only met Maura via holo, and this was the day he’d meet the rest of Miriah’s family. Both men were in their formal wear, Aric in his military dress uniform. Maura strolled up in her dress uniform as well, looking radiant and happy. Corso blushed as she hugged him and kissed his cheek.

 

“Great to meet you in person!” she said. “You have probably the hardest job in the whole galaxy, putting up with my baby sister.” She grinned, and turned to her husband, kissing him on the cheek as well.

 

“Easy there, little mother,” Aric told her, “we’re in uniform, after all. Feeling alright, honey?”

 

“Yeah, I think the nausea is over, for today anyway,” she replied. As early in her pregnancy as she was, Corso wouldn’t have known at all unless she’d told him, but he still felt in awe of it. “Corso, don’t worry about meeting Mom, she will just love you.”

 

He was nervous, though. Of course, he’d heard stories of the girl’s childhood, but there was never really any of Sarai Chantalle. He knew that Miriah and she had never been especially close, and that Miriah had been born several months after her father’s death. He supposed that grief might have been a factor in their bonding, but Miriah never really said much about her mom. He was surprised that they were even here, but suspected the lure of being with both sisters, combined with the baby shower they’d planned for Maura for tomorrow, was the clincher for Miriah. He wondered where the ladies were, as they were still getting each other ready when he left the ship with Bowdaar and Akaavi, thinking a walk with them would calm his nerves.

 

Risha was doing Magdalane’s hair in an intricate woven braid. They’d decided to get dressed aboard the Stardancer, and Risha was helping both sisters before going on a date herself. She’d almost finished the braid when Miriah came in wearing the dress she’d ordered especially for this occasion.

 

“Blazes, Miriah, are you trying to give the poor farm boy a coronary?”

 

Miriah looked down at the black lace dress, “What? It’s lined, you can’t see anything. Besides, I thought that if he were preoccupied with me, he’d be less nervous about meeting the family.” The gown was made of black lace. It had long sleeves and a conservative neckline. What made it special, besides the fact that it looked like you could see skin between the lacy pattern, was that the back didn’t start until the waistline. Risha rolled her eyes.

 

Magdalane was wearing a strapless sheath in a muted stormy gray, which set off the sliver of her hair, and had a gorgeous embroidered wrap over her shoulders. With the finishing touches in place, they set off toward the party.

 

Felix Iresso, Magdalane’s fiancee’, had joined Corso and the Jorgans and had been introduced. As it turned out, Felix and Aric had served together early in their military careers, and Aric remembered Corso from Ord Mantell, so there was no shortage of manly conversation. Corso had his back to the stairwell across the room when the sisters came in and therefore didn’t immediately see them.

 

Felix nudged Corso with his elbow. “Hey Corso, are you armed?”

 

“No,” he answered, “Miriah said I shouldn’t be, even though I feel strange without at least a blaster on me. Why?”

 

Felix grinned, “Probably a good thing, I’d hate to see you shoot some of these guys.” He nodded at the women, who were making their way across the room.

 

Corso froze when he saw Miriah. She had on some kind of lace, black lace. Her long black hair was down, which he loved, and it swung in a shining sheet every time she turned her head. She stopped to speak to someone, and when she turned he saw the back of the dress and nearly choked. Miriah spotted them then, and she continued walking…no, Corso thought, she strutted…over to them, Mags at her side. Corso was still recovering when she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

 

“Hey sweetie, everything going ok?” she asked. He just nodded, unable to say anything for a moment, then he leaned in close to whisper next to her ear.

 

“That dress is amazing. Do we have to stay here? Well, we have to for a few minutes, don’t think I can walk right this second.” She chuckled, smiled seductively at him, and turned to meet Felix and Aric. Corso concentrated on breathing in and out, but it did no good when he put his arm around her waist and felt her smooth, warm skin under his hand.

 

“And this group is my family,” he heard behind him. They all turned to see Sarai with another Jedi from her training group. “This must be my new son in law,” she said, as she extended her arms to him. Corso knew now where Miriah got her petite size, as Sarai was tiny as well.

 

“Very pleased to meet you, ma’am,” he said. “Happy birthday.” She smiled at him, impressed with his manners and intrigued by his accent. Miriah had told her mother of their marriage, of course, but only their ship family was present for the ceremony. This was, in fact, the first time the whole family had been together in almost three years. He smiled shyly at Sarai, and said, “Thank you for welcoming me to your family.”

 

“It’s your family now, too, son,” Sarai responded, deeply touched. Magdalane had told her of how Corso had lost his own parents on Ord Mantell, many years ago now. Corso relaxed, feeling like he could breathe again and no longer nervous, well, about his mother in law, at least. Now he just had to keep Miriah close. He would hate to have to punch somebody at his first family function with the Chantalles.

 

They all chatted happily, then made their way over to Maura, who had found some appetizers to nibble on. Corso and Miriah sat down with her, their fingers intertwined. They all enjoyed the meal and the conversation, but Corso was definitely distracted. He could barely keep his hands off her, which is what Miriah had intended. Mission accomplished, Miriah thought. I’d put my hand on his thigh, but he might go catatonic, she smirked to herself.

 

After dinner, they danced to the slow, lyrical music. Corso ran his fingertips up and down Miriah’s spine, making her shiver. He pulled her closer and growled, “You know, you’ve been making me crazy all night, beautiful. I’ll make you pay for that later, but now I gotta know, what exactly do you wear under a dress like that?”

 

She grinned wickedly at him, but said nothing, enjoying his touch too much. They were separated when Felix cut in and danced with her for a bit. They stayed until the party ended around midnight, the girls enjoying being in the same place for awhile. It was a beautiful night, and quite a walk to the hangar. As they got closer, Corso walked faster, eager to get her alone. She stopped to slip off her shoes, they’d been uncomfortable for most of the evening since she was used to her boots and not heels. As she bent over to unfasten the straps, she looked up at Corso, who was mesmerized by her bare back.

 

“Want to know what I’ve got on under this?” she asked coyly. He swallowed hard, and nodded as she picked up her shoes. She pulled his head down and whispered to him, “Nothing, sugar, not a thing.” She yelped as he slung her over his shoulder and ran for the ship.

 

They were just snuggling to sleep when the sun started to rise over Coruscant. There was clothing strewn from the hatch all the way to their quarters, but neither of them cared. “Love you,” Miriah said softly to him, her head on his shoulder .

“Love you more,” he answered, and they slept.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorry so much Miriah and Corso this week, I rarely play the others anymore, the scoundrel is just so darned fun

 

[Magdalane]

@Crez You have to tell me where to get that jacuzzi, I really need one on my ship!

 

@Tatile I love it when the military guys get all choked up!

[irishfino]

@Irishfino, omg I loved Jaesa with the little models. Too funny!

LS!Jaesa is adorable in-game. I can only imagine she does silly, adorable non-Jedi things in her day to day life.

 

@Irishfino: I can totally imagine Quinn with a fiddly little hobby like this.

I stole that hobby from my husband. He loves painting miniatures.

 

@irishfino Your Quinn and Jaesa are the sweetest. I imagine that's why you can't romance LS Jaesa if you're a mWar, she's got a secret thing going with Quinn. shhhhhh.

I always wondered that myself. My LS!M!SW told Jaesa he would happily support her if she went on to have a family. Think he said the same thing to Quinn (or the other way 'round, been so long since I've seen the endgame companion conversations on the SW). They're fun to write.

 

 

^___^

[kabeone]

Celebration

 

Another Scourge and Remi story that takes place just after chapter 3 ends.

 

 

 

The Jedi had been acting strangely. He had decided to stay with her crew until he was certain the Emperor was truly dead. Her crew did not want him there. The doctor avoided him, which was a benefit, the other Jedi complained and whispered about him to her former master every chance she had. If the other two had anything to say, he never heard it but he was certain they were hoping he would leave on his own.

 

The Jedi, on the other hand treated him the same as she always had. When he questioned her about it, she told him once she accepted him there was no point in hostility unless he did something to change that. If she were Sith, she would know there was always a point in hostility. He had learned to tolerate her jovial nature, her penchant for teasing, her annoying habit of returning his insults with a smile, but now she was acting strangely, perhaps she had changed her mind.

 

She stared at him sometimes when she thought he could not see, it was appraising, calculating. She had bumped into him once, an accident supposedly, but someone as nimble as she would not stumble like that unless it was intentional. He had gone to ask her questions and she had quickly hidden a console or a datapad from his view. He wondered if she was looking for a way to dispatch him. Perhaps the Council had given the order, she was still loyal to them no matter how she pretended she thought for herself.

 

Today she had sent everyone on various ‘errands’ ridiculous ones meant to take a day or more. The ship was empty except for them. A course was plotted in to a numbered planet in neutral territory, the course she plotted was odd, meant to confuse, as if she did not want anyone to know where they had been or where they were going.

 

“We have a mission.” She had said, but would not elaborate.

 

He prepared himself for a fight, he probably could not stand against her, he had not been able to the first time, but he knew some of her weaknesses. If she made a mistake, he could get the upper hand. He checked his lightsaber and his armor. He was as ready as he could be, it was interesting to think he would die by the hands of the Jedi he had accepted immortality to find in the first place.

 

“I see you’re ready to go,” the Jedi said from the cargo bay door. She was unusually serious. He met her eyes and could not read anything there, her expression was closed. He realized now that her smiles and affable expressions were masks of a kind, designed so that learning to read her was impossible. He nodded and she prepared to land the ship.

 

They walked for a long while on a dusty yellow planet, they came to a cliff, she maneuvered to stand behind him. The back of his neck tingled with warning. He heard a sound of something igniting, he spun reaching for his lightsaber.

 

Remi stood with a palm sized cake and a sparkler sticking out. The sparkler sent off little bursts of light.

 

“Happy Birthday, Lord Scourge.” She smiled as if she thought his expression was hilarious. He had not celebrated the day of his birth in centuries. That was something done among family and friends which he no longer had. He had forgotten today was that day, how had the Jedi figured it out?

 

“How did you know?” he asked suspiciously.

 

She grinned insolently, “That’s my secret. Now blow out the sparkler.” He considered walking away from her, a show that he was not going to play her games. Then he looked into her eyes and saw the challenge there. “I made it easy on you, there’s only one, I figured three-hundred-thirty-five sparklers would be more like a bonfire.”

 

He walked up to her and put the sparkler out between his fingertips.

 

“Can we go now?” he asked scowling. Instead of answering, she walked to the edge of the cliff and pointed down, less than a dozen meters below them was a bandit hideout. Planets like these were a common place for thugs and mercenaries to build a stronghold. The signs of activity indicated roughly fifty bandits living there.

 

“These guys used to be Exchange members,” she explained. “They wanted a bigger cut from their bosses so they stole the last big hit they made and branched out on their own.”

 

Scourge snorted, he hated greed.

 

“Of course, when the Exchange came after them, they didn’t have the resources to run, hide, or fight so they struck a deal.” She paused, “With a Republic Senator.”

 

Scourge eyed the Jedi who looked almost angry.

 

“The Senator supports them with food, and weapons, in exchange they rob and raid Imperial trade ships traveling through this sector.”

 

“They work for the Republic.” He stated.

 

“They attack civilians, Imperial civilians, but civilians nonetheless, all on the permission of a Republic Senator.” She said with no emotion.

 

He scowled, he hated Republic authority.

 

“I thought we’d kill them all.” Remi concluded putting the cake down, neither of them was going to eat it.

 

Now he stared at her in shock, the gentle Jedi who spared everyone, speaking of wholesale massacre. “What no mercy? No warning? No chance to let them give themselves up? What about your Council?”

 

“The Council knows, but they don’t interfere with the Senate. These mercenaries have Senate immunity and they run a child slavery ring, mostly prostitution. I’m good with killing.” She shrugged, but he could see she had debated this for a long time.

 

“Is this my gift?” he asked mockingly.

 

“If you want,” she was already looking down, analyzing the best angle of attack.

 

He studied her face; the knowledge of this place had stained her views of her Council, and her precious Republic. The way she chose to deal with it, would stain her views of herself. He grinned darkly and drew his lightsaber.

 

She drew hers and her smile matched his, “Try to keep up, old man.”

 

 

 

 

Edited August 5, 2012 by kabeone