Don’t Call Them Ruth-Less: Tales of Wynston and Quinn

[Vesaniae]

To buy tonight: bread, shampoo, fruit

 

^^

My favorite part! LOL

QFT.

 

Interesting insight into your process! I found it particularly fascinating because that's pretty much the opposite of what I do. Everyone is different, I guess! Except for wanting to torment Quinn. That's something we all have in common.

[bright_ephemera]

July, 29 ATC: Old Blood is New Blood

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Quinn! Sorry to interrupt the intense parade rest exercises - which, by the way, are rather pointless, since you're perfectly capable of impersonating an officer nowadays without staying in practice this rigorously, and the pose is actively counterproductive for all other cover disguises - but anyway, there's someone I want you to meet. Our latest recruit."

 

Quinn stayed stiffly at parade rest and glowered. "I thought you said recruits were too impressionable to be left with a menace like me."

 

"This one's special. Come on."

 

Quinn followed the Chiss to a conference room; Quinn went in first, at least as far as the doorway, and stopped dead. It took Wynston's shove to force him into the room so the door could close.

 

The room was empty but for a table, a few chairs, and a very tall, broad-shouldered youth with short dark red hair and well-worn street clothes smudged with signs of previous acquaintance with combat and fire.

 

The youth eyed Quinn with cheerful curiosity, only the slightest hint of calculation around the edges. "Huh," he rumbled in a rich bass voice. "Who's this, then?"

 

Wynston's smile was almost bright enough to counteract the cloud rapidly developing between Quinn and the recruit. "That, Pierce, is your uncle Quinn."

 

"'Uncle' is incorrect on every imaginable level," Quinn said tightly. "I take it you are General Pierce's son."

 

"Oh, picked that up from the face and the voice and the name, did you? You're a sharp one," Pierce Junior said happily. "Quinn. Who knew my father. I've heard of you. This is just too good." He stroked his cleanshaven chin and looked Quinn over. "Dad never mentioned you were this good-looking, though."

 

Quinn turned a blossoming shade of crimson. "I will kill you both."

 

"He did mention you were that unstable."

 

"I was never unstable! He was the demolitions fanatic!" Quinn stood up straighter and looked at Wynston. "Did you really agree to hire this individual?"

 

"He's good. He was engaged in a career path I won't share with you because you would only use it for blackmail, but I think the opportunities we offered here will put his skills to very constructive use."

 

"I see," grated Quinn. "Do you have a first name, Pierce?"

 

Pierce's smile split his face wide. "No, sir."

 

Quinn clenched his teeth and took a moment before changing the subject. "'Uncle,' Wynston? Really?"

 

"You and Pierce Senior were brothers in arms, weren't you?"

 

"Hardly."

 

"Well, he was like a brother to Ruth. So, you're more or less related by marriage."

 

"If this boy and I are related, agent, it is through the fact that you seem determined to torment us both." Quinn scowled. "You're older than I would expect, Pierce."

 

"Dad did have a life before the Wrath picked him up. I'm not surprised he kept quiet about me, being that high-ranking Siths' loved ones and their families have a very poor survival rate."

 

"So," said Wynston, "Junior here will be joining us as an expert slicer."

 

"Ah, that's good. That means he can stay out of the way on the Aegis, correct?"

 

"And sniper."

 

"...Sniper?"

 

"Sniper," confirmed Junior. He unslung a rifle that would've seemed excessively large for an average-sized man. Most of it appeared to be plasma cells and scope.

 

"You want our people to go into battle while somebody of Pierce's bloodline sits in some advantageous position and trains a sniper rifle on their backs?"

 

Wynston gave Quinn a meaningful look, but Junior spoke before Wynston could say anything.

 

"I only ever hit what I mean to hit, sir," said Junior, "and I'm not inclined to hit the guys at the Organization." He looked around. "Might change, but I like what I've seen so far." He gave Quinn a flickering once-over and a small grin that could be interpreted any number of ways.

 

"Keep him away from me," Quinn told Wynston.

 

"If I need you both on a job, I'm taking you both on a job, Quinn. I just thought you should meet now so you can get used to the idea."

 

"And so you can be absolutely certain you're present when we do run into each other, rather than letting us run loose on the Aegis and risking not being there for the show."

 

"Yes, that too."

 

"Think I like your sense of humor," Junior told Wynston.

 

"Yes, I suspect we'll get along." Wynston smiled sweetly. "As I was saying earlier, Junior, Quinn's the second best we've got, if you don't take off points for minor considerations like personality and fundamental value as a human being."

 

"Did my time working for the Empire," said Junior. "I'm used to not counting those."

 

"Yes, exactly. So now you've met him. Next I'll have Hazard fill you in on operations." Wynston trailed off, his smile fading. Pierce Junior appeared to be entirely distracted by Quinn.

 

"There's something about you I can't quite put my finger on..." said Junior.

 

Wynston squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples. "An air of noble tragedy?"

 

"Yes! That's just it! It's really h--"

 

"For stars' sake," Wynston said impatiently, "he's straight."

 

"Ah. Right, then," Junior said affably, and wandered off.

 

Quinn raised his eyebrows. "Defending me, agent? Against a nightmare worse than any I could have imagined myself, no less."

 

"I already spend more than enough of my time having to watch people make eyes at you. I will not allow him to start."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unplanned fictional babies are the best kind of fictional babies! Pierce Junior has been in my head for a total of an hour and a half now. I think I could get to like him.

 

Edited September 28, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[irishfino]

I laughed throughout! I'll have to read it several times to find my favorite phrases, but this... just... gold, lol.

[Vesaniae]

I love this latest entry! I lost it at "I will kill you both" and proceeded to cackle maniacally for the duration of the piece. Awesome, awesome, awesome.

[iamthehoyden]

Love Pierce, Jr.!!! Love especially that he has no first name, hehehe!

[bright_ephemera]

July, 29 ATC: Growing Pains

 

 

 

 

Quinn, Wynston, and Pierce Junior convened in one of the debriefing rooms of the Aegis.

 

"Well," said Wynston.

 

"You certainly do operate much like your father did," said Quinn.

 

"Old man taught me everything I know," beamed Junior.

 

"Regrettably, yes," said Quinn.

 

"You landed the shuttle on their speeder fleet," said Wynston.

 

Junior smiled wolfishly. "Stopped 'em deploying, didn't it?"

 

Quinn scowled. "And did you really have to clear their perimeter security by shooting smiley faces into their battle droids?"

 

"Knocked 'em out with style."

 

"The literal fireworks show at their armory was utterly gratuitous," said Wynston.

 

"Got valuable practice in precision shots, choreographing that stockpile clearout one rocket at a time from six hundred meters. Figured I should use their stockpile before they did. And I did save some of their explosives to steal for the real job."

 

"Yes, your real job. Blowing up the whole office building was thoroughly unnecessary," said Quinn.

 

"Made a diversion, like you wanted. Never liked their government anyway."

 

"You never even heard of their government until twelve hours ago!" said Wynston.

 

"Yeah. Didn't like it then, don't like it now. Said yourself they're tyrants."

 

"We must make minimal obvious secondary impact with our work," said Quinn. "It was not only imprudent but completely unprofessional to destroy the place."

 

"And you were late on the trigger because you spent so much time on that demolitions setup," said Wynston. "You must get the job done, then screw with people. There's a very strict order of operations in this line of work."

 

"It worked out, didn't it?"

 

"Yes, but it's not--" said Wynston and Quinn. They caught themselves. Quinn got a sudden, predatory gleam in his eyes.

 

"Yes, agent?" he said quietly. "It's not?"

 

Wynston sucked in a breath. "Oh, don't make me do it."

 

"No, please, you were quite ready for it."

 

Junior tilted his head curiously. "Sir?"

 

"Go on," purred Quinn. "What's the problem with his method?"

 

Wynston grimaced, but he forced the words out. "It's not proper."

 

Quinn's smugness suffused the room in an almost visible aura.

 

"Junior," said Wynston, "you're well qualified to lay standalone tactics and get jobs done, but we're going to need to talk management style and sort out when to play exactly what I say because I said it for a reason and when to...freestyle."

 

"Sure. I look forward to shaking up the status quo a little bit." Junior found his way out.

 

Quinn rounded on Wynston. "And now you know how I've felt with every colleague I've ever had. He's disobedient, chaotic--"

 

"-- messy, cheeky--" returned Wynston.

 

" --overly concerned with his own amusement--"

 

" --entirely incapable of sticking to a clean execution of a perfectly good plan!"

 

"At least you can hold to the mission parameters," said Quinn.

 

"At least when you improvise you use rational and mostly legal tactics," said Wynston.

 

"I am also minimally destructive."

 

"A fact I didn't fully appreciate until tonight."

 

"What possessed you to hire him?"

 

"He got results in his old job. And he liked the 'make the galaxy safe for ordinary people, especially the young, pretty and single' line."

 

"'Especially the young, pretty and single'? You use that line to recruit?"

 

"If I think it'll work. It's not like he'll be competing with us, he's gay."

 

"And the fact that this is your thought process just makes it all the more horrifying that we have a recruit whose style manages to disgust even you."

 

"I had no idea he was going to be that destructive when we gave him such a simple role."

 

"His father always managed to shoehorn explosives into jobs."

 

"Ruth always spoke so highly of his father! I thought she had standards! - Catastrophically awful blind spot for you aside. - How did she manage him?"

 

"By keeping him and me separate, for the most part. Also by sending him to do only the crudest of jobs."

 

"That may be the approach we need here."

 

"I'm just astounded that someone outraged your sense of propriety. I'm astounded to discover you have a sense of propriety."

 

"I am a professional, Quinn."

 

"Compared to the Pierces, you are. It pains me, but I must concede that."

 

 

 

Notes:

 

Don't despair, Wynston! Pierce, Jr. is still good for making Quinn miserable in other ways!

 

Honestly, Wynston can be outraged by someone who fails to be professional when it's time for action. It's the only time he'll really insist on proper operation.

 

'Proper' gets a broad interpretation when human interaction is involved, but on the combat and demo jobs? Get it right or get out.

 

Or be Pierce.

 

Edited September 2, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[kabeone]

I love this bright... but you do realize you created yet ANOTHER awesome man that I can't have as an LI don't you? DON'T YOU? *pouts and gives up and makes a male SW to go make out with Vette*

[irishfino]

Are they... bonding? NO! IT'S NOT POSSIBLE!

[bright_ephemera]

Are they... bonding? NO! IT'S NOT POSSIBLE!

 

Sufficiently large catastrophes can throw Wynston and Quinn so much off balance that they will briefly appear to sympathize with each other. So far the occasions that have prompted this are 1) the most evil being in the galaxy making a bid to destroy the entirety of life as we know it in a fight that forced Quinn to shoot his own son or else watch both his son and his wife die and ended with an insanely enraged Ruth dropping the virtue she had struggled so hard for so long to win and dying anyway in a blaze of emotional destruction where, for the first time, even Wynston had to recognize the necessity of the brutal sacrifice Quinn had been forced to make; and 2) seeing a Pierce in action.

[Vesaniae]

 

"Yes, but it's not--" said Wynston and Quinn. They caught themselves. Quinn got a sudden, predatory gleam in his eyes.

 

"Yes, agent?" he said quietly. "It's not?"

 

Wynston sucked in a breath. "Oh, don't make me do it."

 

"No, please, you were quite ready for it."

 

Junior tilted his head curiously. "Sir?"

 

"Go on," purred Quinn. "What's the problem with his method?"

 

Wynston grimaced, but he forced the words out. "It's not proper."

 

Quinn's smugness suffused the room in an almost visible aura.

Love this bit!

 

 

Quinn rounded on Wynston. "And now you know how I've felt with every colleague I've ever had. He's disobedient, chaotic--"

 

"-- messy, cheeky--" returned Wynston.

 

" --overly concerned with his own amusement--"

 

" --entirely incapable of sticking to a clean execution of a perfectly good plan!"

Awww, they're finishing each other's sentences, how cute.

 

 

 

"He got results in his old job. And he liked the 'make the galaxy safe for ordinary people, especially the young, pretty and single' line."

 

"'Especially the young, pretty and single'? You use that line to recruit?"

 

"If I think it'll work. It's not like he'll be competing with us, he's gay."

 

"And the fact that this is your thought process just makes it all the more horrifying that we have a recruit whose style manages to disgust even you."

Lol! Talk about lesser of two evils...

[iamthehoyden]

Lmao, which gives you some idea of how much of a force of nature the Pierces are.

[irishfino]

Sufficiently large catastrophes can throw Wynston and Quinn so much off balance that they will briefly appear to sympathize with each other. So far the occasions that have prompted this are 1) the most evil being in the galaxy making a bid to destroy the entirety of life as we know it in a fight that forced Quinn to shoot his own son or else watch both his son and his wife die and ended with an insanely enraged Ruth dropping the virtue she had struggled so hard for so long to win and dying anyway in a blaze of emotional destruction where, for the first time, even Wynston had to recognize the necessity of the brutal sacrifice Quinn had been forced to make; and 2) seeing a Pierce in action.

 

I searched my feelings and I know it to be true...

[Adwynyth]

I searched my feelings and I know it to be true...

*anguished, from a structural member over a huge chasm*

 

NOOOOOOOO! That's not true! That's impossible!

[bright_ephemera]

August, 29 ATC: A Ghost

 

 

 

 

Quinn and Wynston secured the control terminals and started the rewiring that would let Pierce Junior take remote control of the whole facility. While the two of them waited, something started banging down the corridor of the Hutt complex.

 

Wynston raised his rifle and trained it on the door.

 

In the last seconds of approach the footfalls got softer, as if a much lighter individual had just stopped exaggerating movements. And then an armored woman strolled in: a Rattataki, black of lip and silver of eye, with a face in which age lines were starting to compete with the Rattataki stripes. Scars crisscrossed over her bald skull and down one cheek. She was packing a blaster rifle, but she kept it down at her side.

 

"Wwggaaawuh," said Wynston.

 

The Rattataki smiled. "Glad to see you, too, blue-boy," she said in a rich low voice.

 

"Kaliyo Djannis," said Quinn in his best ominous-calculation voice, but nobody was listening to him.

 

"You were dead," said Wynston.

 

"Nah. Badly shot up, but in the end it wasn't me who strapped on a face-concealing helmet and walked into Vledu's last trap. I suckered someone else into it."

 

"And you didn't see fit to mention this?"

 

"It was a security risk," she mocked with an exaggerated pout. "I just couldn't, agent. Thought I'd strike out on my own awhile, leave your brand of intrigue behind. What's more, I liked it. Now here I am, a gun for hire once again."

 

"Bloody hell, Kaliyo, do you have any idea how much I spent on booze after you died? I don't even remember because I always was too busy downing the next bottle to remember the last! And all that was wasted? I should bill you!"

 

"Aw, you binged for me? That's cute."

 

"It wasn't just drinking. I seriously considered blowing up few buildings in your honor. Bad-guy buildings, of course, but still, it would've been very dramatic."

 

"Bad guys, of course. This is you we're talking about, after all. I can't believe you're still up on the principles thing." Kaliyo leaned sideways to eye Quinn. "That your fault?"

 

"He has principles?" Quinn said blandly.

 

"Hm," said Kaliyo. "By the way, Tightpants, you look like hell. You still some kind of officer?"

 

"No," said Wynston.

 

"Yes," said Quinn.

 

"You resigned," said Wynston.

 

"It still counts as far as she's concerned," said Quinn.

 

Kaliyo smiled. "I'm just saying, you don't look so stiff now. You've got this air of -"

 

"Don't you dare say it," hissed Wynston.

 

"What?" she said, innocently wide-eyed. "I was going to say he has this air of abject, entertainingly pathetic misery. Almost makes me feel bad for making fun of him all this time. Almost." She looked back at Quinn. "You have really let yourself go. In a surprisingly hot way." Then she shrugged. "So you gonna jump me or not, agent?"

 

Wynston mentally grumbled at Quinn for the hotness comment. "That's a security risk," he told Kaliyo.

 

"Ooh, yeah, be contrary." She fished a chronometer out of her pocket. "Let's see how long that -"

 

Wynston took two steps forward and grabbed Kaliyo's collar. "Let's go then, gorgeous."

 

Kaliyo dug in her heels. "'Gorgeous'? Is that the best you can do?" Her grin tugged at her scars.

 

He stopped pulling and instead relaxed close to her. "Kaliyo, I'm not being sarcastic when I say that you are every bit as beautiful right this minute as you were the first time I was forced to ask myself whether ravishing you in Nem'ro's front office would make me a bad guest."

 

Quinn choked on nothing in particular.

 

"Something to say?" said Wynston.

 

"You're lying through your teeth as usual, agent. That was a terrible line, and I suspect she only looks good to you because she's the first woman in weeks who has approached you instead of me."

 

"Women approach you?" Kaliyo asked Quinn skeptically. "That's for slapping purposes or something. Right?"

 

"It's really not worth talking about," said Wynston. "Can we continue this discussion in private? I'll go for as long as you want, just not here."

 

"I might want a long time. You up for it?"

 

"For you? Always."

 

"I would be most grateful if you two could skip ahead to the 'in private' part," Quinn prompted.

 

"Ooh, ooh, can we do it on his console?" said Kaliyo.

 

"No. You might catch the pretentiousness," said Wynston.

 

"Alternatively you might consider doing your job first, agent," suggested Quinn. "You know, the critical mission we came to complete."

 

"Oh, you and Junior can handle it," said Wynston. "I'll be along shortly."

 

*

 

Three days later Wynston made it back to the Aegis. He showered, changed clothes, and walked a little unsteadily into the command room.

 

Quinn straightened up to greet him. "Where is she?"

 

"Damned if I know. We split; I wasn't about to bring her back here."

 

"I see. That may well be the only sensible thing you've done about her." He eyed Wynston critically. Wynston swayed in place. "I hesitate to bring it up," said Quinn, "but you seem...the worse for wear. Far worse than usual."

 

"I haven't slept," said Wynston. "But I wanted to check in before I go pass out."

 

"Everything here is operating at close to peak efficiency. It would be peak if not for the terminal Junior managed to blow up using remote console commands alone. - Really? Three days and you didn't sleep? That seems excessive, even for you."

 

"Oh, we took breaks. She rested just fine."

 

"But you didn't."

 

"Quinn, I'm not that big a fool. In all the years Kaliyo and I have known each other, I have never spent one second sleeping in her presence." Wynston smiled dreamily. "Damn, what a woman."

 

"Ah. For a moment I thought you were going to leave an intelligent statement, but you rescued yourself. Now please find somewhere else to pass out."

 

"I believe I will." Wynston squinted at Quinn. "Abject misery. I think I see it."

 

Quinn looked annoyed.

 

"Yes," said Wynston, "that really makes me feel better about everything. Trust Kaliyo to put things in some amusing travesty of perspective."

 

"Go away."

 

 

 

 

Notes:

 

 

 

I hesitated to post this one because I'm skeptical of the narrative merit of dragging back in-game characters just because I can. Furthermore it seems excessive to have two incarnations of chaos running around. But then I remembered, narrative merit isn't the prime concern of this fic. So take that, death! I'm reclaiming Kaliyo!

 

 

Edited September 5, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[irishfino]

I'd hit that. With 20 crowbars.

You stole that joke.

I should really stop typing the things you say...

[bright_ephemera]

I'd hit that. With 20 crowbars.

 

Hey, hey! Hands off my Kaliyo! I loves her. I bet she's as much a psychopathic powerhouse at 50 as she was at 30. Hmm, and Rattataki never have to deal with greying hair... (That reminds me, Quinn was noticeably greying four years ago timeline-wise. I wonder how that's coming along?)

 

(Do Chiss go grey? Or awkwardly purple? Or mossy green? Or luxuriant black? Nah, Wynston will never age except in terms of layering injuries.)

[kabeone]

August, 29 ATC: A Ghost

 

 

 

 

"Women approach you?" Kaliyo asked Quinn skeptically. "That's for slapping purposes or something. Right?"

 

 

 

 

Notes:

 

 

 

I hesitated to post this one because I'm skeptical of the narrative merit of dragging back in-game characters just because I can. Furthermore it seems excessive to have two incarnations of chaos running around. But then I remembered, narrative merit isn't the prime concern of this fic. So take that, death! I'm reclaiming Kaliyo!

 

 

Kaliyo is the sexiest thing...

(JK Spoiler)

 

 

I loved her the moment she told my JK that every woman is allowed one indiscretion and Doc counted as two. It was the best explanation of why femJK got DS points for the romance but not maleJK.

 

 

I forgave her anything when I was an agent and I only made her mad once.

[irishfino]

Hey, hey! Hands off my Kaliyo! I loves her. I bet she's as much a psychopathic powerhouse at 50 as she was at 30. Hmm, and Rattataki never have to deal with greying hair... (That reminds me, Quinn was noticeably greying four years ago timeline-wise. I wonder how that's coming along?)

 

(Do Chiss go grey? Or awkwardly purple? Or mossy green? Or luxuriant black? Nah, Wynston will never age except in terms of layering injuries.)

 

I have nothing against Kaliyo. Except that she's insane. Plus, I had to deal with her until Alderaan when all I really wanted was a piece of Vector. It was torture. I'm sure her pixels enjoyed it. Jerk...

[bright_ephemera]

Kaliyo is the sexiest thing...

 

<snip>

 

I forgave her anything when I was an agent and I only made her mad once.

 

Oh, Wynston ticked her off all the time. I stubbornly played a decent guy, honorable, law-abiding when the law wasn't actively hurting people. It drove Kaliyo up the wall. I made fun of her - "oh, is this where we talk about our feelings?" - when she tried to bring up love, and turned down marriage, and basically made her love life as difficult as she made mine. It was glorious. Our power games were just a nonstop stream of screwing with each other.

 

On a related note, I do love (JK spoiler)

her line about Doc. Right on the money, madam.

 

 

I genuinely think that (Agent/Kaliyo conversation spoiler)

Wynston would've let Kaliyo live after her Wheezer stunt. He wouldn't keep her around, but he would let her walk away, even knowing what she knows, because I'm that damn fond of her.

 

Lunatic.

 

It's a pity you're locked with her until the end of Alderaan, but I really did enjoy the perpetual tug-of-war we had going on. Umm, until I met my platonic soul mate Vector and Kaliyo started warming the bench while Vector and I brought diplomacy and humanism to the Empire in an unstoppable DPS/healer combo forever more.

[bright_ephemera]

September, 29 ATC: Team Meeting

 

 

 

Background reminder, Quinn did have to shoot his son that one time.

 

 

 

Quinn paused mid-brief and watched as Wynston strolled into the crowded conference room. "Ah," said Quinn, "Agent Punctuality. Good of you to join us."

 

"Captain Protocol. I can see your audience is already enthralled with whatever meaningless bureaucratic drivel you've been trying to feed them."

 

"Yes, well, you'll find most people benefit from agreeing on what we're doing before we go do it, Agent Improv."

 

"Ooh, Captain Stuffy gettin' huffy."

 

"Whenever you're ready to give up the spotlight, Special Agent Prima Donna, we can get to work."

 

"I can't help it if the spotlight actively jumps away from you whenever it sees the chance, Captain Charisma."

 

"There are a great many things you can't help, Agent Flake, which forces me to wonder why you put forth the effort to show up at all."

 

"Mostly to make sure you don't ruin everything the moment my back is turned, Captain Friendly Fire. Or was that Major Friendly Fire? General Friendly Fire? It really works with every rank!"

 

"Tell me, Agent Cheap Shot, did you ever manage to find the concept of discretion in your master database of all galactic knowledge?"

 

"If I had, would I tell you, Captain Logic?"

 

"It's a pity they didn't have a Nuisance designation to give you; it would have fit you so much better than Cipher."

 

"Nuisance Nine? I like the sound of that."

 

"Or perhaps they could have skipped straight to 'Egomaniac Nine.'"

 

"Ah, but you'd save the lower numbers for the deserving, eh? You could've been Egomaniac One instead of just Captain Annoying."

 

"Whereas you will never outgrow being Agent Annoying."

 

"You can't just repeat one. That's lazy even for you, Captain That's-beneath-my-imaginary-dignity."

 

"That was pathetic, Cipher Not-Enough."

 

"Hold up. Junior, what are you doing over there?"

 

Pierce Junior looked up from the small cart he had been pushing around the edges of the conference room. "Selling popcorn, sir."

 

"You-" said Quinn. "That-that's completely inappropriate!"

 

"Pay no mind to Captain Protocol," said Wynston, "I applaud your initiative. Save some for me; I'll be done arguing eventually and popcorn sounds good."

 

"Better make it fast," said Junior, handing out another bag to one of the assembled agents. "These are selling quick and I don't hold reservations."

 

"'Captain Protocol'?" said Quinn. "Who's repeating monikers now, Agent Hypocrisy?"

 

"Who's having a heart attack at the mere sight of unsanctioned snacks, Captain Knickers-in-a-twist?"

 

"On second thought, go on repeating the old ones, Agent Tries-a-lot. You're not doing yourself any favors with the new attempts."

 

"With pleasure, Captain Friendly Fire."

 

"Not that one!"

 

"Judging by the look on your face right now, I win!" Wynston jogged up to the head of the conference room, snatched the holo remote from an extraordinarily resentful-looking Quinn's hand, and beamed winningly at the assembly. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'll take the morning briefing from here. Junior, toss me some of that popcorn."

 

 

[Vesaniae]

I chuckled the whole way through!

[Estelindis]

September, 29 ATC: Team Meeting

 

 

 

"With pleasure, Captain Friendly Fire."

 

"Not that one!"

 

"Judging by the look on your face right now, I win!" Wynston jogged up to the head of the conference room, snatched the holo remote from an extraordinarily resentful-looking Quinn's hand, and beamed winningly at the assembly. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'll take the morning briefing from here. Junior, toss me some of that popcorn."

 

Yes. Yes. YES.

[irishfino]

Aww, poor Captain Friendly Fire I mean Quinn. Edited September 10, 2012 by irishfino

[bright_ephemera]

September, 29 ATC: Generations

 

Cross-posted from the Short Fic Weekly Challenge thread. I believe this is the first in-person appearance of Ruth and Quinn's son Rylon in Ruth-Less!

 

 

 

The slim black-haired youth watched in consternation as the Fury interceptor streaked through atmosphere and came roaring to a barely-controlled, recklessly angled landing about five meters away from the house. The near wall of the building swayed gently, then crumbled from the force of the impact. The observer crossed his arms and directed a cobalt-blue glare at the huge red-haired man who swaggered out from the ship.

 

"Who are you supposed to be?" demanded the black-haired youth.

 

"Pierce, Junior."

 

"I was using that building."

 

Junior eyed the collapsed wall and shrugged. "Don't you have a whole estate back on Dromund Kaas? You're fine." He stuck out his hand. "Anyway, Mister Rylon Niral, it's a pleasure to meet you."

 

Rylon glared at Junior's hand. "You can't just go around wrecking buildings, you know."

 

"I have a long and illustrious history that says otherwise, my friend." Junior let his hand drop and smiled.

 

"Furthermore," grated Rylon, "I was expecting my father in person."

 

"Oh, that. The boss sent me instead. Said something like 'The kid's inconvenience is a worthwhile price to pay for the look on Quinn's face when he finds out I sent you.'" Junior gave Rylon a long once-over, taking in both the dark Sith robes and the ferocious scowl. "My, you're just a bundle of sunshine, aren't you?"

 

"My house just got knocked over!"

 

"Take it easy there. Heard you were going down the light-side path of serenity and temperance or rules-lawyering or whatever it is Light Side Sith do."

 

"I am. I'm practically a master of discipline and self-control."

 

"Niral, you're Force vandalizing my ship as we speak."

 

Rylon relaxed his left hand and attempted to look innocent. A noticeable streak of the Fury's paint job, having been mysteriously scraped loose, leaned and fell off the walls. "It was necessary," he said.

 

"In fact I detect visible waves of sullen annoyance coming off you."

 

"Disciplined sullen annoyance! This is entirely constructive! And what about you, huh? I'll note the damage I definitely didn't inflict there is dwarfed by the scorch marks already on that ship, no doubt from your reckless handling."

 

"Those were caused by my enemies, you idiot, because unlike some people I stick to teams that don't go in for friendly fire."

 

"At least I know when to stop breaking things."

 

"At least I have a sense of humor."

 

"At least I can be distinguished from a particularly clumsy nerf."

 

"At least I'm not a walking angst-ball."

 

"No wonder my father hates you."

 

"No wonder my father- well, no, Dad always thought you were adorable."

 

Rylon's eyes bulged. "I am not adorable!"

 

Junior grinned. "Especially when you're mad."

 

"Is there a reason you came crashing in here, Pierce?"

 

"Yeah. Was gonna pick you up to bring you by HQ, visit your father, all that stuff."

 

"I suppose I should be grateful you were paying attention long enough to get halfway through your assigned task."

 

"I'm always paying attention, kid. Don't forget it. Now, you coming or not?"

 

Rylon scowled and followed Junior onto the ship. "I'm Sith, you know," he grumbled. "That means I outrank you."

 

"I'll be sure to give that exactly the consideration it's due."

 

Junior got the ship under way and then strolled by a brooding Rylon in the holo room to place a call. The Chiss Wynston came up before long.

 

"Junior, good to hear from you. You found Rylon all right?"

 

"Sure did." A grinning Junior looked over to where Rylon was glaring daggers at him. "And he is everything you advertised. I do believe history's repeating itself as we speak."

 

"Ah. Try to avoid repeating it too closely. This time around the Quinn line has Force powers."

 

Rylon, for the first time, smiled.

 

 

 

 

 

I stepped back a few times to check and preserve exchanges that could just as plausibly have run between Quinn and Pierce, Sr.

 

Force vandalism sounds like an awesome skill. Like Force persuasion or Force lightning or Force lifting. Except Force vandalism is pretty much restricted to Sith teenage hooligans.

 

Edited September 25, 2012 by bright_ephemera

[bright_ephemera]

So...I was going to try to go a week without writing Quinn fic. I made it 48 hours. Whatever, small steps, right?

 

October, 29 ATC: Counseling

 

This one's kind of experimental. It's long by Ruth-less standards (1500 words) and it shamelessly slams tragic points in the past (across most of Ruth Means Compassion), to the point where the comedy might be questionable. And yet, the notion of Sith counseling has been making the rounds and it's so delicious...and so desperately needed.

 

 

 

"Rylon, thanks again for coming out on short notice. All right, Quinn, here's the job." Wynston opened the shuttle door to reveal a blank office door in Kaas City. "You and Rylon are going in."

 

"What is this?" Quinn asked suspiciously.

 

"Family counseling. Look, I like a good Force storm as much as the next cowering bystander, but Rylon's last visit to the Aegis was a safety disaster, and you yourself have heavy enough issues about Ruth to self-start a black hole."

 

"I'm not going to–"

 

"He's got a point, Dad," said Rylon. "Not that I don't love getting a check-in call from you looking miserable on every anniversary of everything that ever happened between you and Mom, but...you need help. And I've got this cruiser-wreck kind of curiosity about how that'll work."

 

Quinn scowled and trailed his son into the office.

 

The receptionist waved them into a big bright comfortably furnished room. A pudgy little human in full Sith robes, corrupted blood vessels pulsing across the bald spot on his head, smiled warmly. "Gentlemen, welcome. I'm Doctor Dysagape. I'm a very experienced counselor specializing in Sith family dynamics."

 

"Hello," Quinn said stiffly.

 

"Hi," said Rylon.

 

"Please, have a seat."

 

Quinn stood rigidly at parade rest instead. Rylon slouched over to the nearest couch and sat. Dysagape settled on a chair facing both of them.

 

"Why don't you tell me a little about yourselves," suggested Dysagape.

 

"Malavai Quinn, formerly a general of the Imperial army, retired. This is my son Rylon Niral."

 

"He has a different last name," observed the counselor.

 

"Yes," said Quinn. "He has his mother's name."

 

"She's gonna be a pretty big factor here, Dad. My mom's Ruth Niral, the Emperor's Wrath. She and Dad were married, but she kept her name. Um, she's dead now."

 

"I see, I see. All right. So the way this works, I want this to be a very open space between us. I can ask you questions to help step you through difficulties in your family life, or you can bring questions to each other or to me. This is a very nonjudgmental space, but the no-combat rule is strictly enforced." Dysagape smiled benevolently. "Now, then, why don't we get the very basic Sith background out of the way. Please answer for yourselves, and then we can discuss, ah, Ruth. Can you tell me how many murder attempts you've made on each other? Rylon, why don't you start."

 

Rylon slouched further. "Dad once. Mom twice, kinda. One of those was coerced, one was legitimate, all the others were kinda half-***ed. Like I woulda been pretty psyched about killing her because, hey, bad***, but since it was just sparring at school it wasn't that serious."

 

Quinn frowned. "Rylon, you never told me you were sparring to kill."

 

"Sith, Dad." Rylon looked sulky.

 

"And you, General Quinn? How many times have you tried to kill your wife and son?"

 

"I don't appreciate the insinuation, doctor."

 

"We're all Sith or related to Sith here. It's all right."

 

"Ruth once," Quinn said irritably. "I've never tried to kill Rylon."

 

"You shot me in the back, dad. Repeatedly."

 

"I had to be sure you would stay down! – In a nonfatal way!"

 

"General, I'm going to note that as a nonpremeditated kill attempt. It's perfectly normal."

 

"No, it's not! I would never harm my son!"

 

"Dad. You harmed me. I get it, it's okay, so quit flipping out."

 

"It seems you've accepted your father's role in that incident."

 

"Yeah. Under the circumstances I would've shot me, too."

 

"I see. So, if I may ask, what was, ah, Ruth's record?"

 

Quinn spoke first. "She tried once. Long ago. I think in the end she again came to regret not finishing it."

 

"She never tried to kill me," Rylon said cheerfully.

 

"Hmm. And how does that make you feel, Rylon?"

 

"Pretty good, actually. I know some guys would call it neglect, but Mom always told me she didn't want to hurt her loved ones. So no matter what anybody else thinks, in the end not hurting me except in self-defense was her weirdness, not mine."

 

"General Quinn, you should be proud of yourself for raising such a well-adjusted child. Now, you mentioned Ruth did make one attempt on your life? Can you describe that?"

 

Quinn hesitated. "Force choke," interposed Rylon. "Pretty much the same as I did to him that one time. Standard stuff, big argument, dramatic drawn-out Force choke, and then something changed her mind." The teenager shrugged. "My existence changed hers. Years later, her showing up changed mine."

 

"Her showing up didn't 'change your mind' so much as she hit you until you dropped me."

 

"Close enough, Dad."

 

"I see." The counselor kept taking notes. "That's quite remarkable, General, that you've only gotten two murder attempts from your immediate family, and those two were both resolved within the family. Very symmetrical. Very interesting." He paused for a few moments, and when nobody else spoke up he went on. "Now, to work back to something you mentioned, Rylon, you said one of the attempts you made on your mother's life was coerced?"

 

"Yeah. Emperor. Mind control. It sucked. Like, he recruits me with promises of ultimate power and being better than everyone, and then the second things get tight he's all 'actually you don't get self-determination any more.'"

 

"So you started in the Emperor's employ voluntarily?"

 

"Well, yeah."

 

"And he then sent you to kill your mother."

 

"Yeah. I mean, she could've avoided it by just joining us, but she gets stubborn. So I think it was kind of half her fault."

 

"No, it wasn't," snapped Quinn.

 

Rylon rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd take her side."

 

"The Emperor was the worst employer you could possibly have chosen and I am saying this as a man who once moved up from Moff Broysc's personal cleanup crew to Darth Baras's expendable-extra staff! You should have known he would ask you to do terrible things!"

 

"Mom did terrible things, too! She worked for the Emperor for seventeen years! The three of us were professional doers of awfulness! How was I supposed to know she would turn around and stab the boss in the back like that?"

 

"Gentlemen," said Dysagape. "Inside voices."

 

"He's dodging responsibility," said Quinn.

 

"He's got the dumbest idea of loyalty I've ever seen, and I'm a graduate of the Korriban Academy," said Rylon.

 

"No, you're not," said Quinn. "We withdrew you months ago for study with Jaesa. You never completed the trials."

 

"I was close to graduating. It counts. The point here is that you suck at loyalty."

 

"So, Rylon, you could say," prompted Dysagape, "that you're disappointed in your parents for attacking the Emperor instead of staying in his employ?"

 

"It...it ended up kinda making sense, since now we're not all dead, but it was kind of a major switch from Mom's career as I knew it. And they didn't really keep me in the loop while it was happening."

 

"You wouldn't take our calls! You were too busy doing your Emperor-brainwashing-preparation-whatever-that-was!"

 

"Maybe if you'd left a note to warn me he was death incarnate, I would've dropped that class!"

 

"We could have warned you if you'd told us your advanced classes were about taking on the Emperor as a surrogate father, but you didn't! You couldn't be bothered to leave us a message on that because you were too busy getting big and tough enough to destroy your own mother!"

 

"That's a perfectly valid ambition," Dysagape said imperturbably.

 

Quinn turned to the counselor. "Whose side are you on?" he demanded.

 

"I'm not here to take sides. I'm just here to listen and to make sure that nobody starts Force choking anybody. Or shooting them in the back."

 

"I won't shoot him," said Quinn. "Except under extraordinary circumstances. I love him, even when he's being a completely impossible brat."

 

"Unconditional love," said Dysagape, raising his eyebrows. "That's...um...a very unusual lifestyle choice, but...we don't judge here. Is that something you've ever considered, Rylon?"

 

"I would love him unconditionally if he would stop being such a jerk."

 

"I'm going to write that down as a no," said Dysagape. "Good. So, if you're comfortable answering this, General, did your wife also attempt to practice this, er, unconditional love?"

 

"Every day," Quinn said softly.

 

"Except the days you were fighting," Rylon added. "Seriously, that whole mess just creeped me out."

 

Dysagape kept taking notes. "'That whole mess' being your parents'...nontraditional...home habits as your father mentioned? Or 'that whole mess' being fighting?"

 

"So, they were split 'til I was fourteen, and then they kicked me out of the house and started–"

 

"Rylon, please."

 

"Right, I would love to not go into detail, too. So I could understand the fighting because Mom hated him, a ton, but then they got mushy anyway. It made zero sense."

 

"It sounds like the last few years have been extremely eventful for you both."

 

Rylon blinked and frowned. "...um, Dad?"

 

"Yes, Rylon?"

 

"Are we paying him credits for insights like that?"

 

"No, I believe the agent is footing the bill for this endeavor."

 

"Oh. Good."

 

Dysagape leaned forward. "'The agent'? You seem to say that as a very loaded term."

 

Rylon facepalmed. "Oh stars don't get him started."

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

 

Agape: Love. Connotes the selfless, intentional, and unconditional kind.

Dys: Abnormal, impaired, difficult, defective.

 

The guy's trying to counsel Sith here. "Abnormal" is the only kind of love he hears about.

 

This is...this barely scratches the service of therapy-worthy stuff for these two to talk about. I should probably go write goofy Wynston stuff to make up for it

 

 

Edited September 26, 2012 by bright_ephemera