Lodestone: A Wynston/Ruth Alternate Universe

[bright_ephemera]

From the perspective of The Good Guys, right now Quinn must necessarily be The Villain. Wynston as an enemy of the state must be guarded against. Wynston as a personal irritant Quinn is also going to warn against, perhaps more harshly than is wise. Recognizing that the separation must hurt like hell is the best he can do. As for the greater game, in RMC prime he wholly trusted Ruth and started misbehaving on her word alone; he doesn't get that here. He has only one obvious avenue of redemption and Colrand isn't playing on that level yet.

 

I want to shake Quinn silly, but in his defense he's looking at sedition being advocated by his least favorite person and a woman whom he knows trusts too easily and furthermore is far too partial to said least favorite person, all based on invisible evidence that sounds like straight-up denial. Learning that a demonstrated traitor and a Jedi are in on this won't help.

 

 

L + 15 years 14 days: Testing

 

 

 

The secure holofrequency Wynston's people had given Ruth turned out to be answered by none other than Jaesa.

 

"Hi, Ruth," she said cordially. "How are things?"

 

"I'm doing well enough," she lied. "I was hoping to check in with our mutual friend. The really charming one."

 

"You've been trying out her exercises, then?"

 

"Yes. I have to say, focus is…difficult, lately. But any trick she has, I can manage. I can pull this off. It's time I learned more."

 

"Great."

 

"The only hard part is dragging myself away from the loving attention of the Emperor's Hand, Quinn, and the entire staff of his ship."

 

"Go off site for training? For Cole, if not for you. If you've got any time at all to spare his lessons shouldn't be neglected. Education is what I do, everybody already knows that."

 

"I think I can arrange some morning."

 

"Some morning soon. We'll be here."

 

*

 

Arrend was a mild forest world, not heavily populated; Jaesa and her husband Kaeve had set up training for a few Light Side Sith there years ago, and it had grown into a minor academy in its own right as Ruth and others sent along students unfitted for Korriban. Colrand had visited once or twice before, so Ruth was comfortable leaving him with Kaeve for some combat training. She didn't want him around Lord Scourge or the Jedi.

 

On Kaeve's instructions Ruth headed out to one of the more remote practice yards, one protected from the forest by a high wall. As she approached she heard Lord Scourge's voice from just within the entry arch.

 

"Her minder isn't here. So I ask again, do we really need this Wrath? Warriors can be replaced. And warriors that grasp at what they cannot conquer are useless."

 

"Good morning," said Ruth, strolling through the arch. "I'm here to work on the conquering." She looked around; only Scourge, Larr Gith, and Jaesa were present "Where's Orphea?"

 

"What's his name called her off." Larr Gith looked to Lord Scourge. "The bug?"

 

"Vector," Scourge said distinctly.

 

"Right. If that's what experimenting with Killiks looks like, I wish you people didn't do it."

 

"I think it was voluntary on his part," Jaesa said gently.

 

"Ew," said Larr Gith.

 

Ruth's heart sank a little; she had hoped that at least somebody from Wynston's crew would have news. "Well then. Let's get started."

 

"Right." Larr Gith shook out an elaborately embroidered cloak and sat prettily upon it. "Why don't you start with the shield meditation we worked on. If you've forgotten anything we can fix it."

 

Ruth settled and ignored the first few noises Larr Gith made over her (seemingly disappointing, yet patronizingly salvageable) shield. Finally the Jedi got to the relevant stuff.

 

"You'll want to place things over your shield. Sitting there in a dome of Light Side energy looks great, but it tells everyone you're hiding things. Covering that baseline with surface thoughts, normal emotions, that's the real trick. That's how you hide your intentions. Come up with everything you can about what you've been doing lately that doesn't matter. And everything you can about what you were supposed to be doing lately."

 

Ruth followed along. Playing normality over a disciplined core, this was what was needed.

 

Meanwhile Lord Scourge's sneer got more pronounced with each passing moment. "There is an alternative, Wrath," he said at last. "One that may be less…conspicuous."

 

"I'm all ears," said Ruth. She didn't want to antagonize him. Distilled Sith pride was an ugly thing to poke at, and she sensed that, while she could likely counter his power, she would much rather have him on her side in the battles to come.

 

"The Light Side is an offense to the Emperor, and armoring yourself in it merely invites conflict regardless of how you ornament it. The Dark Side is his native element; he is powerful in it, but even he cannot pierce every lie in its shadows. Hide your secrets there."

 

"He would notice if I showed up boiling in Dark Side energy, Scourge. He already knows how I operate, and he knows I utilize the Light Side rather heavily."

 

"Then it is a wonder he did not destroy you long ago."

 

"Perhaps he doesn't care. I get the job done. And he seems to command me either way."

 

"Perhaps also he rests comfortably knowing that when he seeks to break you, your lack of familiarity with the Dark Side will be your undoing."

 

"I've trained from birth at what I do. I don't have time to pick up some backup familiarity with tools I won't be using."

 

"No," he said. "You don't have time." He crossed his arms and regarded her thoughtfully. "I would spar with you, Wrath. I would see what your power does when you are at least pretending to be Sith."

 

Larr Gith perked up with a sly grin. Jaesa just looked apprehensive.

 

"I can take that," said Ruth. She had a feeling Scourge didn't mean first-blood sparring. But if he insisted on questioning her, she would have to subdue him sooner or later. Once she was winning she could force a bloodless surrender.

 

He backed onto the field and drew his lightsaber; she drew her two, hefting the familiar weights in her hands. Then she danced into action, swinging and sweeping in an effort to plant a touch here, there, his shoulder, his arm. The big Sith knocked her first efforts aside. His black armor glistened where the grassy yard's dew had splashed. His presence in her awareness was vast, dark, old, oddly fascinating. She slid away from where he concentrated his power and applied her strength elsewhere.

 

“You’re playing,” he grumbled, and stepped up the speed of his attacks. She could sense the anger in him. And the contempt. Against that she held a measured discipline, a blocking defense, a powerful but careful counterattack. He was good. But so was she.

 

In the middle of a strike her focus wavered. Doubt kept returning, a memory of swinging at someone else, a needle of fear.

 

His hand lashed out – she felt the surge of disdain and pride before she felt the impact – and her main hand saber flew from her suddenly nerveless hand. She leaped backward and rolled, calling it back to her grip, but the failure shook her. Scourge drove her backward with swift heavy strokes, his concentration perfect as he challenged her efforts at defense.

 

"He will take your son from you," Scourge said suddenly between hits.

 

The thought was more an incentive than an injury. "He won't get that chance." She recovered herself, slowing and turning him.

 

He made a small sound, as of curiosity satisfied, and abruptly shoved her back. Everything about him seemed to darken further when he bore down on her. As she locked one of her sabers against his in an extended block, he leaned in and said calmly, "You should know that the Council's assassins reached your Wynston three days ago. He is dead."

 

Ruth felt her eyes widening until they hurt. That wasn't true. It couldn't be. She would know, she would have felt it. Yet she felt nothing but conviction from the big Sith. Conviction and, as he studied her face, enjoyment.

 

Suddenly there seemed to be no point in fighting. At the same time, there was every reason to kill. She had to wipe the sudden smile off his face.

 

She kicked him back, and she wasn't sure whether it was the muscle or the Force that sent him staggering. In any case, she brought the fight to him while he recovered his balance. A rising red haze suffused her sense of the Force around her, and somehow in the midst of it Scourge was laughing. Their sabers clashed and hissed again and again. He slowed her offensive, battled her nearly to a standstill, almost but not quite capable of holding her in her full fury.

 

She Force pushed him back further, caught up, ripped his saber away using her mind, knocked him down with a strength made of equal parts fear and rage. When his strike shook her balance she bore down hard, pinning him with all her power, shoving his own arm against his throat with a force just short of crushing.

 

And he laughed.

 

Darkness flared all around her when she moved to silence him. Jaesa shouted from the sidelines. "Ruth, don't!"

 

"Do we need him?" Ruth snarled. "Do we really need him? Warriors that grasp at what they cannot conquer are useless." She leaned closer, fixing his red eyes with her own blue. "Tell me he's alive. If you value your life, tell me he's all right."

 

"If he lives, you are failing, Wrath. Are you not?"

 

"I don't care."

 

"Resistance," he observed. "Better."

 

As if that were what mattered. "Tell me Wynston is alive or die here."

 

"I do not know," he said simply.

 

"Of course he is," said Jaesa. Somewhere in all this she had drawn near, her hand extended in a cautioning gesture. "I know Wynston's alive and in one piece, Ruth, now please. Let him go."

 

"Yeah," called Larr Gith. "We were using him."

 

Ruth shook her head. "Don't toy with me," she told Scourge. She tucked her anger back into more controlled channels, let her red-soaked awareness dull a little. She wouldn't kill an ally over an ill-advised test. Even if she wanted to.

 

She backed off and didn't offer him a hand up. As he rose he looked to Jaesa said, "Brittle, but not as much as I thought. She may suffice after all."

 

"I could've told you that," Jaesa said patiently.

 

"See that you can keep up, Scourge," snapped Ruth. "You'll need more than cheap shots when the time comes."

 

"And you will need to withstand more than the mere threat of harm." He looked to Larr Gith. "Let us go. I am satisfied here, for now."

 

Scourge and the Jedi started back toward the academy proper. Jaesa hung behind while Ruth untied her frazzled hair and started re-tying it with shaking fingers. "Ruth," asked Jaesa, "are you okay?"

 

"No, Jaesa. I'm not."

 

"If anyone's going to break he wants to know sooner rather than later."

 

"If anyone's going to get himself broken, he's on track to do it sooner rather than…all right, I know." Ruth made a face. "I prefer Larr Gith's teaching style."

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah, Jaesa doesn't know Vector's full backstory. Let her believe that the Killik thing was an honest transaction.

 

Scourge: Canon established as a good liar.

 

Cole vs. Wynston reaction? Theory (she does 100% know he's fine) vs. practice in the matter of loss. She wouldn't keep her cool for either actual event.

 

 

 

 

L + 13 years 16 days: Wynston considers a threat

 

 

 

Orphea had been in the espionage business for upwards of twenty-five years, and it seemed she never ran out of scientists trying to perfect planet-killing weapons.

 

The Republic had imprisoned this one for their own purposes weeks ago, and the Wrath had broken him out, which told Orphea all she needed to know about what the man's pet project was made to do.

 

She was interviewing him alone to determine what to do with him. He seemed a good sort, fully aware of his position with respect to the major governments. Just unable to stop them.

 

"The technology was meant to offer sustainable power in areas we couldn't use traditional geothermal," he was explaining. "Adapting it into an overload the way the Imperials wanted me to was a gross perversion of the idea."

 

"The original concept has a lot of promise," said Orphea. "What if I told you that certain organizations' research divisions would gladly bid on bringing this to fruition in its original form?" She was sure she could find a market for it. Then it would just be a matter of monitoring and quietly puncturing any wrong prototype that came up.

 

"Honestly? Sooner or later everyone would have the same use for it." The scientist cradled his head in his hands. "I'd rather bury the whole thing."

 

"Don't." She had had this conversation before in other times, other places. "Someone will find the same thing sooner or later even if you suppress your research. Anything can be weaponized, doctor. Prevent the destructive use. Don't destroy the underlying potential good."

 

When she was finished there she moved on to double-check Scourge and Larr Gith's account of their meeting. There was promise there, from what she had heard.

 

Promise, and an alarming piece of news that really shouldn't have surprised her.

 

"So you actually walked up to her and told her the man was dead," she said to Lord Scourge. "You're brave, I'll give you that." She wanted to deck him.

 

The big Sith smiled sardonically. "I did not realize she was so…attached. Now she has advertised that to all observers, but that is her problem to face, not ours."

 

"But the interesting thing from our point of view is that, orders or no orders, she was opposed to Wynston's death."

 

"Passionately so."

 

"Uh-huh," said Larr Gith. "Turns out something can get on her nerves after all."

 

She could use a solid slap, too. "Yes," Orphea said dryly, "people are notorious for that." She stood. "All right then, with that in mind there's something we should check on."

 

"Oh?" said the Jedi.

 

"I want to see what else gets on her nerves."

 

 

[iamthehoyden]

Ah, Scourge, you just can't resist poking at people can you? Test test test.

[bright_ephemera]

Ah, Scourge, you just can't resist poking at people can you? Test test test.

 

I have a feeling he insists on knowing the quality of what he's working with. Punch it a few times. Does it break? If no, it could be useful. If yes, oh well, throw it aside and get a new tool. Better to find out now than later.

 

...And if it doesn't break, does it instead eat your face in a bitter rage? If yes, it could definitely be useful.

[bright_ephemera]

L + 15 years 17 days: Ruth Investigates a Tip

 

 

 

"Wrath. The man who calls himself Wynston has been seen at a transfer station in deep space. We are sending the coordinates now."

 

Exactly what Ruth didn't want to hear. Servant One looked impassively down at her. "Deal with him," he said simply. The holo cut out.

 

And she wanted to. Sort of. She knew she had to. This wasn't just like pushing the baseline need to destroy him to the back of her mind; this intelligence was solid. Not a vague search, not an open-ended demand; this was a thing that could be acted on now. That must be acted on.

 

Resist, you idiot, that's what you do. Just…just leave it.

 

"Set course immediately," Ruth said to the room at large. "Quinn…select a detail and have them ready when we dock. If Wynston is found he will be brought to me, alive. Is that clear?"

 

"Yes, my lord." Quinn bowed crisply and strode off to do what he did best: their masters' bidding.

 

Don't go don't go, make an excuse, just stop.

 

She could tell. She could tell she shouldn't do this.

 

In hyperspace she tried to meditate, to prepare. If she found him maybe she could spare him. Transport him out from under her watchers' noses, maybe even take Cole and run away; once she was with Wynston they could handle any reprisal the Emperor tried. If she found him…

 

He was going to die.

 

She tried to hold her focus and it wasn't working. No, I know you can break it. You can. You're aware. Now just stop.

 

The Tenacity docked at the station and Ruth boarded with a couple dozen of Quinn's troops and Quinn himself. She didn't look at him. She could tell he wasn't quite looking at her. They slowed, just the same, while their men formed up.

 

"I recommend proceeding to the station's command center, my lord, to check their surveillance data. I will split the remainder of the detachment into teams to sweep the docks and hangars."

 

"Very well," she said woodenly. "If he is found, he will make it to me alive and unharmed. That's an order."

 

"Understood." He shut up and moved.

 

The place was deserted. A few doors were locked; a couple of her troops had slicing spikes at the ready to deal with them. And so she reached the corridor outside the command center. She rounded the corner and signaled for one of her men to slice open the final door.

 

Wynston's figure was standing there, his back to the entryway. Her heart could have burst from the rush of feeling.

 

Activating her sabers was the most natural, the most inevitable action in the world.

 

Something was off, but she leaped anyway, slamming down into the space where he was. Her sabers buzzed through empty air. The lines of Wynston's shape only briefly wavered before returning to a static image.

 

Two of her people were already on a nearby piece of equipment. "A holoprojector, my lord," reported one. "A sophisticated one, but just a projection."

 

She pushed him aside and ran her sabers through the device. It was useless to her. Worse than useless, if all it showed her was that she couldn't stop herself.

 

She looked around the big room. Her people were already swarming over the command console. She walked the deck and looked out at the stars, wondering where her enemy was. No. She knew where her enemy was. He was in a fortress out beyond the edge of the galaxy. Her ally, her beloved, that was the one she couldn't find.

 

Some uncounted amount of pacing later, Quinn strode in leading the remainder of the search detail. He looked alert, intent. Barely restrained. If he could get his hands on a target Ruth had no doubt he would have shredded it already.

 

"My lord, we have searched the facility and checked the transit logs. The last ship departed hours ago; it is probable that the agent himself was never here."

 

"No," she said. She was already sure of that. "He just wanted to know if I would come."

 

And she had.

 

She looked back out at the stars. "Don't say anything," she ordered. It came out hoarser than she would have liked.

 

To her surprise, Quinn stayed quiet. On some silent order her men started filing out, with Quinn's measured step last of all. Outside she heard him giving muffled orders.

 

She wondered where Wynston was, and when the footage of her attack would reach him. "I miss you," she said out loud, though she didn't know who would hear. "And I am trying."

 

She turned and left. The path from her transport's door to the bridge was empty; Quinn, at the pilot's console, initiated the jump to hyperspace. He stood and waited for a few moments.

 

"My lord," he said diffidently.

 

"Shut up."

 

He studied her expression. He bowed. Then he left her in peace.

 

Sitting alone, she tried to meditate. She had to do better than this.

 

 

 

 

L + 15 years 20 days: Reminisce

 

 

 

Her will was weakest in the evenings.

 

Ruth had her meditations, her hopes that her next encounter with the Emperor would go well and she would finally be cleared to hear what else was going on with the Aegis. She had her work during the day, sometimes being foiled in the strategic goal by elements that might well be catspaws of Wynston's own organization. Wynston. She didn't have him, couldn't. Her master, her career, said she couldn't. If she walked away from her responsibilities here she would be found, or worse, Colrand would be, and punishment would not be a swift thing. Instead she had work here. It filled her days.

 

Her will was weakest in the evenings.

 

She was walking by the lounge nearest her own quarters when she heard Colrand's voice. "So why didn't she just bring Jaesa to help sort out who to pressure to challenge the line?"

 

Ruth edged toward the doorway to see Quinn seated opposite the boy. "I believe she was curious to see Lieutenant Pierce in action," he said. "And we lacked the manpower for her to bring both with her." Quinn's eyebrow twitched slightly. "As it turns out, Pierce's expertise did deal with the Republic troops, just in a far less elegant way."

 

Ruth shook herself. "Oh, stars," she said, and walked in to face the two. "Are you talking about Taris?"

 

Quinn shot to his feet. "Yes, my lord," he said, clipping every word.

 

She considered dismissing him on the spot. But Colrand was eagerly listening. She wanted to keep it civil. "If I'd had time to think about it I would've brought Jaesa," Ruth told her son, "and checked Pierce's performance later against slightly less sentient targets. Negotiating a surrender would have been better."

 

"You did in fact get your opportunity to evaluate his capabilities," Quinn muttered.

 

"Yes, me and half that wing of the building."

 

"But you captured the guy," said Colrand. "Right?"

 

"Yes, General Frellka did survive." And he had proved a nice bargaining chip once the war was on.

 

"He tried to run the moment she defeated the last of his defenders," said Quinn. "It was, frankly, disgusting."

 

"But this one was waiting at the non-ruined exit to nab him." Credit where credit was due, and Colrand looked delighted to hear it. Ruth looked to Quinn. "You never told me you were doing that, by the way."

 

"You were busy, my lord. I did not have the chance to update you."

 

"You had time to call in everybody else's status."

 

Quinn looked innocuous.

 

Showoff.

 

It occurred to her that backing out would be a good idea. "Anyway, I didn't mean to interrupt."

 

"No, Mom," Colrand said hurriedly. "It's okay. We were just – did you know Father was just recommending, before this, General Soru's book about principles of force combinations. Your favorite every time we get into tactics."

 

Ruth decided to sit down. "Of course he would recommend it. He's the one who introduced me to it." She looked to Quinn while pointing at Colrand. "I had to give this one something when he started trying three-point offenses using his stuffed animal troops."

 

Quinn smiled, unexpectedly, dazzlingly. "And did he benefit?"

 

"Well, as I recall we had several long arguments on the respective strength of armored walkers versus plush nexus–"

 

"Mom!" said Colrand.

 

"–but once that was settled the actual tactical layouts were quite solid."

 

"I just use the console sims," grumbled Colrand. "We threw out the stuffed animals ages ago. Anyway, we were talking about you guys taking on the War Trust."

 

*

 

Colrand asked questions, and he listened. This was history he hadn't heard, or rather things that he had gotten only an incomplete picture of. When telling these stories in the past Ruth had always focused on the rest of the crew and skipped Quinn's role.

 

But it seemed that Quinn had been one of hers once. He had belonged. Ruth's voice spoke of admiration, the same warm praise she gave to her servants and friends. She stopped herself short now and then as if remembering to be mad; when she did that her gaze bounced off Quinn's and skittered away, a shot of defensiveness here, a little pulse of grief there. As for Quinn, it was still hard to read him, but compared with his regular impassive self he came alive around her.

 

Until he didn't.

 

Colrand was still drawing his parents out with questions. "Were you around for that?" he ended up asking Quinn. "The Killiks."

 

"Yes," he said. "I was present on that occasion."

 

Ruth nodded confirmation. "In fact he was the only one of us in any shape to walk by the end. He stayed with me…I was a little fuzzy from the blood loss but I distinctly remember him threatening hell itself on those poor medics for not working fast enough."

 

"I feared for your life," he said, his eyes fairly glowing as he looked at her. Then suddenly he checked himself. The emotion that had been growing since she'd come in damped to near-invisible levels and he stood, leaving the energy of his manner behind. "Now. I should see to my duties. Please excuse me." He nodded to Colrand, and, with a solemn expression, bowed to Ruth. Then, while everything about him said he wanted to stay, he walked off.

 

Colrand turned back to Ruth, feeling suddenly awkward. "Sorry," he said. "That was about Wynston, wasn't it." The Chiss had been there for that one, and that reminder had just ruined things.

 

She was still staring after where he had gone. "No," she said, a little distantly. "That was just about caring whether I live or die."

 

"Uh. He cares, Mom."

 

Her mouth smiled. Her eyes didn't. "Only as a secondary concern. He's here to keep me in line. We were just remembering a time when he could do that and look after me both at once."

 

"He's got to know better than to try anything now."

 

"He can be blind when he thinks it's a matter of responsibility. It doesn't matter if he knows better, he'll do it anyway." Ruth took a moment to think. And then she raised a hand to cover her mouth while she shuddered in what sounded a lot like a sob. "He can be cruel when he thinks he's right," she said raggedly.

 

"Mom," Colrand said helplessly. She didn't stop him from hugging her. "Don't. It's different now."

 

*

 

The cruelty part isn't, thought Ruth, but she didn't say that. She squeezed her son's shoulders once and backed off. "Sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have ruined the evening. I'll be in my quarters if you need me, all right?"

 

"Sure."

 

She retreated and thought for a long time about seeing Quinn smile, the way he did when he cared.

 

 

[iamthehoyden]

Poor Ruth

[irishfino]

D'aww, they're so miserable together.

 

 

Quinn/Ruth Misery OTP

[bright_ephemera]

L + 15 years 21 days: Terms

 

 

 

Quinn found Ruth nursing a mug of something or other on the Tenacity's observation deck.

 

Dread washed over her as she looked up at him. "Here to lecture me on the error of my ways again?" Any time Colrand wasn't around, Quinn's presence was bound to turn out unpleasant.

 

"No."

 

She set down her drink and eyed him warily. "I don't believe you."

 

"Nor have you any reason to." He sat down. She narrowed her eyes. "Your focus on the job is improving, my lord, but my efforts have not contributed to that. It's become clear that I am doing no one any good in pressing you." He seemed ready to say more, but fell silent instead.

 

"Really. You feel bad about this?"

 

"I feel it benefits no one."

 

"All of it? You're already tired of pushing recommendations about 'the agent'?"

 

"Forget him."

 

She slammed to her feet.

 

"That isn't what I meant!" he said hastily. "I will leave it be. Your feelings are your own, I tire of hurting them. I propose a truce."

 

She hesitated.

 

"If the most I can do for you outside the bare requirements of field work is to stay out of your way then I'll do it."

 

"And you tracked me down to tell me you'll leave me alone?"

 

"Not just that. I must ask about Colrand first. About whether terms will change with him."

 

"You can keep seeing him while we're living here. Which will be as long as this job lasts; I'm not leaving him behind somewhere alone. He adores you, Quinn. Hurt one hair on his head and I will show you hells you didn't know existed, but I won't keep him away."

 

"If I were to hurt him I would deserve any fate you could devise. Thank you, my lord." He clasped and unclasped his hands. "When the three of us find ourselves together you go to some trouble to avoid conflict. It is an effort that is not lost on me, though I know you're doing it for his sake and not mine. I can excuse myself in the future if that would make things simpler."

 

"That's not necessary. He would know what's going on, and…it's really not necessary." He was genuinely better when Cole was there.

 

"Good," he said. He sounded relieved. "You…smile, when you're with him. Whatever happens, I think that will stand you in better stead than anything I say. You were always that way." He blinked and looked away. "I am abundantly unqualified to provide that affection in any form you can return. If that is all that helps you, it's time I got out of your way." He didn't bother with the usual parting offer of assistance; he just stood and walked away, as quickly as if he had somewhere to be.

 

 

 

 

In the outline and early scene drafts he was slated to make this not-particularly-brilliant attempt to correct his anti-Wynston overstep, before I even posted said anti-Wynston rant.

 

 

 

L + 15 years 21 days: Tools and Toys

 

 

 

The Twi'lek treasure hunter Vette swung cheerfully into the lounge next to the strategy room. "Hey, Miss Orphea," she said. "Haven't been by in a while. I talked to Jaesa on my way in. You are lookin' pretty, mister."

 

Orphea reflexively looked around to check for witnesses to that particular statement. "You're too kind," she said. "What news from the valuable-object stashes of the galaxy?"

 

"More fun than you've had in weeks, I bet." She beckoned in a small lifter droid. It carried a stone obelisk carved with strange symbols. "Lookie what I got."

 

"If that's good news, it'll be the first I've had in days. Bring it in." Orphea's guests were in the strategy room; they gathered around the device.

 

"So," said Larr Gith. "What exactly did you just steal here?"

 

"Hello to you too," said Vette, "and you're welcome. This here is a grade-A Rakatan mind trap. Supposedly they used these things for jails all the time. Figure once you've softened the Emperor up a bit you could put him in cold storage."

 

"The intent is to kill him," Lord Scourge said darkly.

 

"Backup can't hurt," chirped Vette.

 

"She has a point," said Orphea. "Traditional killing has a history of not working on him."

 

Scourge ran a hand over one edge of the obelisk, not quite touching it. "Do you know what this houses?"

 

Vette's eyes widened innocently. "Uh, should I? I figured it'd be empty. You know, it's been a while."

 

"It was designed to hold things for a very long time indeed." Scourge smiled unpleasantly. "But if we need to remove the previous occupant, we should not have much trouble."

 

"Right. You have fun with that."

 

Orphea edged closer. "I'll have our people pull up everything we have on these. I…don't want to touch it." She was no expert on Rakatan tech, but she had a solid grounding in the principles of things that might blow up. "Do I."

 

"No," said Scourge.

 

Vette squeaked indignantly. "Great, thanks for the heads-up."

 

"You survived," Scourge said dismissively.

 

"Next time I'll call in before I touch anything, yeah? Lord Tall Dark and Scary here can tell me if I'm gonna unleash any ravening monsters by moving it." Vette headed for the door, pausing just outside for a last word with Orphea. "I am keeping an ear out," the Twi'lek said quietly. "The old, the creepy, the popular with dark ritualists. I'll let you know if anything comes up. Anything else I can do while I'm at it?"

 

"Stand by. We might need guns."

 

"Like me holding one, or like me accidentally redirecting somebody else's arms shipment this way?"

 

"Like you, Vette. Like old times, only slightly higher stakes."

 

"That I can do. I've been covering her back since she was getting B's on her term papers at school."

 

"I may have been referring to the matter of the galaxy blowing up."

 

"Uh-huh. Let's be honest, that's the side benefit." Vette grinned. "I'll keep looking for knickknacks. You just…hang in there, Orphy."

 

Orphea stiffened when Vette went in for a hug. "'Orphy'?" she muttered.

 

"We've known each other forever, right? Just go with it." Vette managed to make the barely-breathed words sound mischievously malicious. She backed off and said, louder, "Take care of yourself."

 

"Watch your back," Orphea said meaningfully, glaring indignation.

 

Vette waved. "Will do!"

 

 

[irishfino]

Tension, tension, tensiooooooon.

 

 

Quinn's a dork. XD

[iamthehoyden]

I...I'm slight (slightly mind you) more favorable toward Quinn. For the moment. It won't last. (It never does.)

[bright_ephemera]

L + 15 years 24 days, part 1: Colrand registers an opinion

 

 

 

"Mom? When are we leaving?"

 

Ruth took a moment to compose her answer.

 

Colrand didn't give her time. "Nobody wants the Emperor in your head. But if you shut him out, you're not really just going back to work like normal."

 

"No," she said reluctantly. "I don't know the long game, not yet. At least not the details." She didn't have the details, but there was only a limited number of things one would want to do with the ability to say no to the Emperor. "I know that once we're sure he has no hold over me at any distance, for old orders or new, we'll be leaving."

 

"And Father?"

 

"I'd like to avoid conflict. But Cole, they sent him to me to make sure I'll behave. He'll act against me if they tell him to."

 

"Whatever you have to do, there's good reasons. Right? He'd help if it's the right thing to do. Couldn't we get him with us? Or at least get him to sit this one out?"

 

"No. His duty defines him."

 

"He might listen to you. To us."

 

"He never listened to me."

 

"Can you try? I mean, or maybe Wynston doesn't even know what he's doing. Maybe you can get free but then, still do your job, and not…not make a mess." He tugged at a strand of his hair and looked at it instead of her. "Maybe we could stay here."

 

"Staying here isn't a good idea," she said gently. "I would be glad to leave Quinn alone if he doesn't threaten me, but he would not extend the same courtesy."

 

"He might. If you weren't…I mean, if you didn't pick a fight. Even if you just split, and leave him alone. Will I have to go for good?"

 

"I don't want this hurting you, Cole. But if he and I have to go our separate ways it won't be safe for you to see him."

 

"Father won't let anything happen to me."

 

"There are better fathers than Quinn."

 

"Like who, exactly? The one where you don't know where he is, or what he's doing or why?"

 

He didn't say it with anger, but it stung nevertheless. "I trust Wynston to be doing the right thing. He always has. And he's better for both of us."

 

"I guess." Colrand's face worked for a moment. "Look, I miss Wynston, too. I really do. He's a great dad…four or five weeks a year. You know I've already seen Father more days in a row than I've seen Wynston at a stretch my whole life?"

 

She stared at Colrand, suddenly desperately wishing that that didn't have to matter. Wishing she had noticed it herself.

 

"Wynston's working to protect all of us," she managed to say.

 

"I get that. It just doesn't make him much of a family guy." He shrugged uneasily. "I hope he can get back soon, but not if it means cutting Father out of the picture."

 

As if there were any other way this could go. "I was thinking of sending you away," she blurted. "The closer we get to what may be a problem the clearer the need for it seems to be. Wynston's people would see you safe, where neither Quinn nor anyone else can get to you." Even if she hated the thought of not watching over him herself.

 

Colrand's eyes widened. "No." It was almost a whimper. "You can't do that. I'll be careful, whatever you say, but you're not sending me away just because he might do something."

 

"I'm not risking your life on a 'maybe.'"

 

"I'm not leaving just because you say so!"

 

"Quinn is dangerous, Cole!"

 

"I'm Sith, Mom!"

 

"That wasn't enough to protect me!"

 

"You just didn't know." He deflated a little. "Everyone's dangerous. At least he's got a reason to look out for me."

 

"It isn't enough." She wanted it to be. Stars, she wanted it to be.

 

"Maybe it would be if you weren't already fighting. He's got a duty to us, too. And he wants to listen." A pause. "He's still in love with you, you know."

 

Ruth flinched. "Stars, Cole. You're a teenager, that's supposed to disgust you."

 

"It's true, though. And his job lets him stay with us. If we're doing the right thing, just give him that reason. Maybe your 'long game' can let you stay here undercover or…or something. Just think about it, okay?"

 

Ruth thought of all the arguments she still had to make. She could go on forever and not run out of reasons to not let Quinn any closer.

 

"Please," said Colrand.

 

"I'll think about it," said Ruth.

 

 

 

 

"Stay together for the kids" is a terrible motivation, Ruth. Just saying.

 

Quinn seems so damn responsible. Honorable, arguably. It's just that…darn it…he'll faithfully follow suit, but it seems somebody else is always holding the trump.

 

irishfino gave me my new tagline for the entire endless saga of Ruth and Quinn. "[R]uth: the one that got away because he kinda tried to kill her that one time."

 

Edited January 3, 2013 by bright_ephemera

[bright_ephemera]

L + 15 years 24 days, part 2: Ruth reaches a decision about Quinn

 

 

 

Ruth was tired. It wasn't like she could get away from Quinn any time soon, or get back to Wynston. That wasn't how it worked. Whatever else happened, her son belonged with Quinn for as long as she could afford it. And she belonged with her son. It was a given that things would end in conflict, but that day wasn't here yet; all she could really choose was how to conduct herself on the way. And perhaps, within all the restrictions reality had placed, it might be time to give up the restrictions she was holding up by herself.

 

She hurt for Wynston. For his hopes, and for the comfort he had had with her before greater powers got in the way. She hurt because the way she wanted him didn't have that strange solid weight that her dealings with Quinn did. She hurt because she wasn't really sure Wynston could win, not if his hopes were on a woman who had already failed him.

 

It was very late in the evening when she went to Quinn's door.

 

"A moment," came his voice, crisply, and in under half a minute he appeared in the doorway, uniformed and alert.

 

He froze, looking at her.

 

She didn't bother explaining her presence. Instead she looked back up at him and waited. She wasn't going to order him, nor seek his permission, nor even try to talk through what couldn't be changed. There was so very much that couldn't be changed.

 

His lips parted and a little life returned to his features while he drank in the sight of her. Finally he stepped aside, guided her in with a gentle hand on her arm, and let the door fall shut.

 

In the limits of her life right now this was what she could have, what she was permitted. Even this was risky but she wanted him, as she always had, despite knowing it would be taken away again. He knew her, he knew those limits, he understood all of it, he wanted her in spite of the known past and the likely future, and so she closed her eyes and hoped that this, tonight, could be forgiving. And forgetting.

 

 

 

 

Is despair sex a thing? It's like anger sex but more fatalistic.

 

So, rigid restrictions of the situation. Am I bitter about the one-romance-option thing in game? Nope, not at all. Not even a little. Not me.

 

[Vesaniae]

:D

 

Oh my... Oh my, oh my. Did not see that coming. Did not see that coming. *bounces up and down in chair* I loved every word of that. The emotion felt so tangible, and I'm struggling with the urge not to lapse into omgsquee because as much as I do love Wynston, Quinn/SW will forever be my OTP...

 

So yeah, this is great. And now I really, really cannot wait to see what happens next.

[irishfino]

LOL Ruth. Not all teenagers think their parents loving each other is icky gross. And, come on, he's Quinn's kid. XD

 

 

Also, [swoon].

 

 

Edit: Also, I'm famous!! Wheeee!

Edited January 3, 2013 by irishfino

[iamthehoyden]

I love Ruth, you know I do, but all I have in my head at the moment is swear words, so I won't write those out.

 

Edit: On the plus side, I now have bugger all idea of what's going to happen. That's a good thing, I think

Edited January 3, 2013 by iamthehoyden

[kabeone]

briiiiight! You're so meeeeeeean

[bright_ephemera]

I am mean. I'm meanie meanie mean.

 

L + 15 years 25 days, part 1: Reaction

 

 

 

Ruth felt better in the morning. Quinn was vividly present, and his frame was large enough to almost entirely envelop her when he woke up and put his arms around her, and any lingering pain seemed far away.

 

"Hello," she said.

 

The room was finally light enough for her to really see his eyes, and they shone. "Hello," he said.

 

"I wasn't supposed to want this," she informed him, smiling in spite of herself.

 

"I was never supposed to want this, my lord," he replied. "Sorry."

 

"Ruth. You had it right earlier. If you call me 'my lord' here again I will be very displeased, captain."

 

"Ruth," he chided, "I should point out that I haven't been a captain in quite some time." He was smiling, too.

 

"When I see you I forget." She wriggled up to kiss him. "Besides, 'Moff' doesn't sound right between us."

 

"'Malavai' remains acceptable."

 

"Malavai." She nuzzled his jaw. "I'll keep that in mind."

 

"If you forget again, I can accept 'captain' from you," he said graciously.

 

"Mm."

 

"Ruth, what are you doing?"

 

She kept nuzzling. "Stubble," she explained. "I've missed it. Hm." She kissed across his neck. "A lot."

 

"Then," he said bemusedly, "I'm pleased to be in a position to provide it?"

 

"I value you," she assured him, "in a great many ways, for many wonderful rare things that nobody else has and this just feels really good right now." It was the little things that could last her forever if she let them. Sudden. Close. Wonderful.

 

He pushed his hands through her hair, tangling in the waves and giving up before it became pulling. "Yes," he said.

 

"I missed you," she admitted. "Even when I hated you I missed you."

 

He waited, holding his breath, but she didn't tread any closer to that subject. Instead she brushed her lips against his and let his cool hands resume running slowly over her scars, new and old.

 

"I told you," he said at length, "that waking up was the hardest part." He wrapped his arms around her and held her with that dizzying stare of his. "As you described. Long after I should have gotten accustomed to your absence, I would still wake up and think that you would be here, wanting me."

 

She stroked his jaw with a thumb. "I want you," she murmured. "…in an 'I'm actually sort of worn out right now' sort of way."

 

Quinn exhaled a laughing breath. "It will suffice."

 

They were quiet for a while. When he spoke again, he was subdued. "I would not have chosen to come here. I had no desire to hurt you again, nor to face that…temptation." He studied her face. "Ruth, the last thing you said to me was that you loved me. What you meant was that I could never come back."

 

"Yes," she agreed. "I meant it. But we've learned since then. Things are different now." Please, she thought, let it be different. They had their son. Even he had to change for that.

 

He kissed her. "Things are different. You have come so far. And I…" He clasped her hands tightly. "It will be right this time."

 

It probably wasn't quite true, but it was close enough in a galaxy like this. She could have this for as long as her responsibilities permitted. Those were the terms of her surrender. She understood them now.

 

It felt good anyway.

 

The morning alarm blipped, and Ruth shook herself and sat up. There was work to attend to. She set one hand on Quinn's chest for just a moment and grinned with the delight of contact. "So. Shall I be your Wrath today?"

 

 

 

 

Technically the last thing she said to him prior to their separation was that she would never forgive him. She did mention loving him five seconds before that, so I can see where his memory might fuzz a little.

 

The absence of facial hair is the great tragedy of Chiss physiology.

 

I am currently envisioning Ruth clocking Quinn upside the head and tying him up in the nearest closet when the **** finally hits the fan. That, truly, is an expression of love. At least it's better than murder droids.

 

 

 

L + 15 years 25 days, part 2: Orphea gets impatient

 

 

 

"If I have to wait one more minute I might go insane," said Orphea.

 

"Our search will yield results sooner or later," Vector said calmly. "After that, Lord Scourge and Larr Gith are likely to take the battle to the Emperor, and it is probable that Ruth will be freed before she has to face him."

 

"I don't trust Larr Gith to kill a Korriban acolyte. She's capable, but she's got less focus than one of her own hangovers and I can't tease out a motivation more solid than bragging rights. I've worked with worse, but not for these stakes. Lord Scourge doesn't have the raw power and Larr Gith doesn't care, and Ruth is…stuck. What we should do is provoke another call in from her master, put her exercises to the test. She can handle it. She's got to be as impatient as we are."

 

"We have not found a way to provoke the Voice into issuing such summons before." Vector made it into a slight question.

 

"Larr Gith can do it. Provocation is her middle name. She should be delighted to make the kind of high-profile disturbance that would give the Emperor a reason to sic Ruth on her. Then if Wynston's lucky only one such order stays active at a time." Orphea reflected for a moment. "I don't believe in luck, but who knows."

 

"More to the point, Ruth may throw off the order entirely."

 

"True. That is the point." Orphea pushed a hand back through her hair. "I want her back among friends. The worst thing you can possibly do to her is isolate her. Everybody who's known her for long knows that she gets her strength from the people she loves." Orphea paused. "I always wondered if I was really helping with that when I was away."

 

"You were," Vector said with calm confidence. "You do."

 

"That's good. I don't know when I picked up the habit myself." She gave a small calming huff, in and out. Quieter, she said "More of a dependency." She shook her head. "You have no idea how much I dislike dropping these confessions on you. I haven't had to do it this much since the bad old days." Back when Wynston's mind wasn't his own. "When it was down to talking to either you or the wall to maintain my sanity."

 

"We will listen. And you will have your regular confessor back soon. Or, should an emergency arise, we have an ample supply of walls on this ship."

 

Orphea chuckled. "Vector, I really have no idea what I would do without you."

 

*

 

Larr Gith stared Orphea down with tawny, blazing eyes. "You want me to wave my arms and yell "Look at me, I'm that Jedi who gave you a black eye and here's my location, I'm messing with you in case you haven't figured that out yet, now send your best."

 

"Yes."

 

"And you're hoping his best won't show up to argue with me."

 

"I'm hoping his best does show up, just on our side."

 

"Do you have any idea how screwed she is if she shows her face in controlled mode?"

 

"I have a perfect idea, yes. Wynston took her down once, albeit crudely. We can do it again if we have to." Orphea shot a look at Lord Scourge. "Alive."

 

"If she endangers our one proven challenger against the Emperor, there can be no mercy," said Scourge.

 

"Unacceptable."

 

"Her survival isn't up to you this time, hunter."

 

"Stop bloody calling me that."

 

"Your nerves are wearing thin, little hunter. Still the Wrath is your concern, rather than our battle with the Emperor."

 

"Yes, she's my concern. Someone's got to look out for her." Long-lost family was about the best Orphea could claim for a connection that Ruth didn't already know about. She didn't go into it in detail, and happily most conversations to date had been dominated by Larr Gith noisily not caring. "And once we have her, she has an excellent record of looking out for all of us. It'll pay off. So. Let's scoop up an analyst or two, find ourselves a venue for some attention-grabbing."

 

"Every venue is a venue for attention-grabbing if you know what you're doing," yawned Larr. "But yes. Let's find something good."

 

 

Edited January 4, 2013 by bright_ephemera

[Vesaniae]

Bright, if this is you being mean, then I like your mean-ness. More, please.

[irishfino]

...om nom scruff cuddles.

[Estelindis]

I also did not see that coming. Gasp!

 

 

Well this is just awkward. Now I'm rooting for Ruth/Quinn again. But Ruth/Wynston was nice! I'm confuuuuuused... I do find it interesting that we were discussing monogamy earlier in the thread and now that seems to be something about the relationship with Quinn that pulls at Ruth.

 

I also find it interesting that Cole's clear affection for Quinn has played a part here. You commented correctly that staying together for the kids can be a huge mistake, but it seemed to me that there was more to it than that. Cole wanted a father who's there more than a few weeks during the year and I think that highlighted to Ruth that she often feels lonely while Wynston is away, even though she had no desire to seek other romantic company during those times - she still wanted him.

 

Looking forward to seeing what happens with the Larr Gith Provocation Plan anyway.

 

[bright_ephemera]

Okay, um. Risky sequence here.

 

L + 15 years 27 days: Colrand asks

 

 

 

Quinn came to breakfast with Ruth instead of dining in his quarters or wherever he usually did.

 

Ruth was practically glowing.

 

It was a lot more unsettling than Colrand had imagined.

 

They were formal as ever in conversation, but Ruth wasn't wincing nearly as much and Quinn wasn't retreating behind a mask every ten seconds. Colrand talked a little and listened a lot. He waited for things to start making sense.

 

When Quinn headed off for whatever, Ruth turned back to Colrand, sipped her caf, and beamed.

 

"That was kinda sudden," Colrand blurted.

 

His mother raised her eyebrows. "Your idea."

 

"I guess? You hate him. I thought you were gonna try maybe warming up to not giving him death stares every time you run out of the room because he shows up. Maybe. Given time."

 

"It doesn't have to be that way."

 

He sipped his caf.

 

She eyed him worriedly. "I hope this isn't upsetting."

 

"Hate, Mom. Did you, you know, deal with the killing-you thing?" With an unwilling coworker she was daily warning against it was one thing. He figured closer contact had to mean something got fixed.

 

"It's been long enough. And we know it won't happen again."

 

That was promising. "We do?"

 

"I don't think it will come to that."

 

…Not dramatically promising. "He's still dangerous? Like you always said?"

 

"He's still dangerous," she confirmed. "But he may listen."

 

"Good. That's…that's good." It would save Quinn's life if something were to happen. And if Quinn did listen through whatever was coming up, and Ruth and Quinn stayed together, that would be…it'd be perfect.

 

"Cole, the master he held that debt to is long dead. That's one reason fixed. Another reason was that at the time I hadn't proved my ability to hold up my side of the argument. That is very much fixed."

 

Just then Quinn walked back in.

 

Ruth half stood. "Trouble?"

 

"No," he said, and the two of them both relaxed some. "I just found a few more minutes to spare."

 

"Ah." If Ruth had a girlish mode, that smile was it.

 

"Was I interrupting?"

 

"No. We were just talking about Corellia."

 

"I see." Quinn looked gravely at Colrand. "That is hard to explain."

 

Colrand shrugged. "Not really. You got an order, you did it, because that's what was important to you. And I see how that happens." Even if that didn't make it right. There seemed to be a lot more to explain than that, someday. If it didn't mess things up to try to talk about it. "I just didn't…I didn't want you leaving again. So I kept quiet." What mattered was that it wasn't wrecking things here.

 

It was Ruth Quinn looked at when he said "I won't leave again. My loyalty, and my hope, is here."

 

They didn't touch, they weren't affectionate like Ruth was with Wynston. But the space between them sparked and glowed. Yeah. Definitely unsettling.

 

It was good.

 

 

 

L + 15 years 29 days, part 1: Orphea at dawn

 

 

 

Orphea held still when she woke. Inventory: half dressed, well rested, physical condition good. Location, not at home. Her Mantis-class vessel instead.. Expected to be en route to a very old, very obscure Sith enclave in the uncharted regions. Surroundings, just her own bed and the distant hum of the hyperdrive. Pretty normal except that the Mantis had less plush accommodations than Wynston's vessel, the silver one waiting back on the Aegis.

 

Identity, female, midlevel operative so far as her contacts were concerned, name: Orphea. Priorities, in order: see the Wrath free and the Emperor dead.

 

She wasn't sure her gambit was the right thing to do, but it was better than the alternatives. Every now and then you had to trust your partner could handle it.

 

 

 

 

 

I'm actually super lame and didn't have any inspiration for Larr Gith's stunt! Umm, but I'm sure it happened. Whatever it was.

 

 

L + 15 years 29 days: Refresh Orders

 

 

 

The summons came right on the heels of Larr Gith's devastating incursion into a Sith stronghold in the uncharted regions. The summons came, and Ruth prepared. Quinn walked her as far as her Fury's hangar and, in a nook where the posted guards couldn't see, gave her a kiss. He seemed to have these blind corners of the ship memorized and he never missed a chance. She sensed he might be afraid to. She had no problem following where he led.

 

But the task that waited was hers alone, and so she flew out to the dark fortress as it circled its cold dim star in the boundless night. She gathered her will on the way in, held her determination in mind and covered it with thoughts of her work as Wrath, her ordinary life.

 

She docked, passed through the silent hallways to the Emperor’s throne room. She knelt as usual. “Master.”

 

She physically shivered from the intrusion of the Emperor’s mind. Did that cold presence proceed more slowly than usual? It slid and pressed, touching on her thoughts, investigating aspects of her emotion. “You are excited, Wrath.”

 

“The change in terms with Quinn, master,” she said. It was certainly an element.

 

“I see. He has served well. Consume him as you will.”

 

She knew he was already used to the surges of disgust she evidenced at statements like that. They seemed to please him. “Thank you, master.”

 

“Now tell me. Why have you failed to kill Wynston?”

 

“He is elusive.” No shortage of genuine shame and frustration in thinking about him.

 

“He costs us too much,” hissed the Emperor. “Find him. Kill him with his friends, the agitators Larr Gith and Lord Scourge.” Finally his presence withdrew from her mind. “The Hand has the location of Larr Gith's most recent strike. Go. Return to me when it is done.”

 

She strode back to her ship with her usual confidence, stepped in, let the door close behind her.

 

“No,” she said. “No, I don’t think I will.”

 

She felt alive, awake. Warm. Simultaneously terrified and relieved. She had survived the encounter, at least. She laid in a course for home, then curled up right there on the bridge and held herself, trembling.

 

 

 

 

L + 15 years 29 days, part 2: Planning the reunion

 

 

 

Once Ruth was well away from that place, she made a call.

 

"Jaesa," she said to the holo. "Can you set me up a meeting with those people I'm supposed to kill?"

 

"That…doesn't sound very good when you say it like that."

 

"I had a talk with the boss. I'm feeling fine. I'm sure you'll have hunting nets or tranq darts or something at the ready for me just in case. It's time for us to get together. I don't recommend Larr Gith's last known location, more of the Emperor's troops will almost certainly be showing up."

 

"We're well away from her last advertised location. Tell you what, we'll send you coordinates and we can meet up first thing in the morning."

 

"I'd love to. Say hello to everyone. Say hello to Wynston."

 

"I will. See you soon, Ruth."

 

She turned away from the holo and thought. She would see Wynston again.

 

That felt complicated.

 

It would be...it would be...

 

Better, she told herself. The Tenacity was the job, what had to be done; the Aegis was...

 

A place she had never been trusted with, currently occupied by the likes of Larr Gith and Lord Scourge?

 

No. Not the point. Wynston, the man. She had to apologize to him. Make sure he was all right, make sure he knew she never wanted to hurt him. She never, ever wanted to hurt him.

 

Too late.

 

There were things he wouldn't forgive. But those things were cruelty, voluntary treachery, theft from innocents. He would forgive her for her actions as Wrath. He would welcome her. He was her steady source, more constant in his motion than most people had the strength to be in perfectly stable rest. She missed him.

 

She didn't know how he was going to react. Her place was with Quinn as long as she could manage; now was the time to see how long that would be, see what would have to be done. If she could keep Quinn in the long term, somehow, she could…

 

This wasn't what Wynston had meant when he said she was free to take lovers of her own. Not Quinn. Wynston might tolerate any other counterpart in the galaxy, but not Quinn.

 

So, what, should she stay alone until Wynston was ready to stop by again?

 

If she concentrated she could smell his hair, feel the precisely etched shape of the scars on his face and body. His voice, his absolute steady support, his openness, they were gifts such as no one else had ever given her. It was he who had been there for her through the years.

 

'There' was a few dozen parsecs away most of the time. Wasn't she tired of waiting?

 

Enough. She did love Wynston, and want him. She would be welcome in his arms, probably. And he would understand another period of separation for the mission's sake. She did have to tend to the mission. Maybe the rest of it wouldn't become an issue yet. She could hope.

 

 

[bright_ephemera]

Continuing risk.

 

L + 15 years 30 days, part 1: Reunion

 

 

 

"Temple, thanks again for loaning your time." Wynston touched Raina Temple's elbow. "You've seen me play Orphea. These people don't need much active oversight. Let Jaesa and Vector do most of the talking. Any problems come up, say you'll need to check information clearance with me."

 

"Certainly." She put her disguise up to become a pale brunette. "Should be easy enough." She grinned winningly at him and headed out.

 

Wynston checked himself in the mirror. Him, the scarred Chiss, no disguises. About to see the one person who made him feel most like himself. If he were young enough to get giddy over the mere prospect of things, that's what he would be.

 

He joined the group in their big conference room: Orphea, Vector, Jaesa, Lord Scourge, Larr Gith, himself. "All right, everyone. Jaesa, Larr, you can handle immobilization if it has to come up?"

 

Scourge made a face. A very dignified old-warrior face, but a face. Wynston ignored him. There would be no deadly force today.

 

"We're ready," Jaesa said. "And so is she. Let's do this."

 

*

 

A building on Taris, only remarkable in that it appeared semi-habitable. It was near a large usable shuttle pad and had as such been probably used as a port of call for any number of shady dealings; it was, Ruth reflected, a decent meeting place in case she should turn out to be unfriendly.

 

Orphea met Ruth at the door. "Welcome," she said. "Come on, everyone's upstairs."

 

The conference room was large but sparsely populated: Orphea, Vector, Jaesa. Lord Scourge, Larr Gith.

 

Wynston.

 

Something in the back of Ruth's mind told her to attack, but she shoved it down in a swell of joy. She opened her arms – partly out of a desire to demonstrate to everyone that she wasn't carrying any weaponry, mostly out of a desire for him – and charged.

 

*

 

Ruth crushed Wynston against her and he returned the embrace as hard as he could; they didn't really need the ribs anyway.

 

"Wynston," she said raggedly. "I'm so sorry."

 

"Don't be." He was dizzy just being this close to her after the uncertainty of the preceding weeks. He kissed her cheek and then looked around. "Excuse us a moment. We need to talk; after that we can all bring her up to speed on the full extent of the operation." He slid his arm around Ruth's waist and led her into the adjacent room.

 

They stopped as soon as the door closed and faced each other, closing the embrace. "I'm sorry," she said again.

 

"Don't. The only part of this that you're responsible for was going up against the greatest sole power in the galaxy to make seeing me again possible. You have no reason to be sorry." He kissed her, first hard and then with conscious slowness, thoroughness, making absolutely certain his lips fit right against hers after their time away. "I love you," he whispered. "I missed you."

 

She looked away and nodded. "I missed you, too," she said quietly.

 

It must have been hell on her. "We're clear to operate now. I've arranged quarters for you and for Cole on the Aegis. Any time you–"

 

"I'm not staying," she said. The flush in her cheeks died as she spoke.

 

Wynston's entire brain stopped. "What?"

 

She looked at the floor. "Whatever the mission, I can be of use keeping my cover and sabotaging the operations they assign me. And…it's Cole, Wynston. If I can do equal good either way, I want him to be with his father."

 

That smacked of too much affection and not enough thought. "Darling, he isn't safe with his father. The moment someone upstairs decides Cole would be effective leverage over you…"

 

"He won't let anything happen." Her throat worked for a moment. Whatever she was really thinking, Wynston could see he wasn't allowed in. "I love you. But until it's time to strike, my place is with them."

 

Out of a misguided idea for Cole's wellbeing? Out of some misplaced sense of guilt toward Wynston himself? She was either mistaken or hiding another intention, the one Wynston had acknowledged and let be seventeen years ago, the one he had never been able to fight. Wynston leaned into her and kissed her, and she was sweet, beautiful, tender, nearly perfect. And holding back.

 

"I can't lose you," he said. "Not again. I'll take care of Cole, there is nothing to forgive between us and nothing I wouldn't do to have you at my side. Come with me."

 

She shook her head. "You need to be out there," she said, lacing bitterness into the gentle tone, "and I have my own work. And my family. I'm going back."

 

"For him."

 

She nodded. "For Cole."

 

"No." He let his arms drop as he backed off. "For him. Ruth, in all the years we've spent together there's only one thing you've never let me do and that's make excuses. Have the decency to give me that much yourself." He wouldn't get angry. He wouldn't.

 

She was raising her head defiantly, and the look in her eyes killed him. It was admission enough. "Wynston, don't. I'll still be–"

 

"Ready to do what you have to when the time comes? Think, Ruth. We both know he'll neither side with us nor stand aside when we have to act. You will have to stop him. Are you really willing to take your pleasures until then and tell yourself it's love?" He had to clear his throat. "Last time I checked you were vehemently opposed to that behavior." Too much. Definitely angry.

 

"Don't. You don't know how much things have changed."

 

"Evidently not." He squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted terribly much to try to take her back in his arms, but he didn't want to find out if she would reject it. "This isn't right."

 

"Don't. Please."

 

Everything in her life was trying to control her, he reminded himself. Just because he was right didn't mean…well, it did mean he should do something, but not what he wanted to do now, which was shake her until she woke up and acknowledged the danger she was in.

 

"You want to go back?" he made himself say.

 

"Yes," she said faintly.

 

"And you think you can get information of value there."

 

"Yes." She blinked hard. "I can contribute to the mission there, and we can…we'll talk, soon. All right? For now we should work out plans with your people. I've been kept in the dark for a while."

 

"You don't have to stay there anymore," he told her.

 

"We'll see what makes sense," she said, and walked on past.

 

*

 

Ruth curled her feelings up tight to avoid letting them escape. She was dying to see Wynston, and of course he was blaming her exactly as she had feared. Better to stay away. Better to stick to the people who actually understood what it was to be trapped. She ached for him, but he wasn't ready to forgive her doing what she had to.

 

Lord Scourge fixed her with a red glare that seemed to hold traces of the amusement from their earlier encounter. "So. You are ready to join us, Wrath."

 

"Looks like it."

 

"I hope the resources invested in you turn out to be worth it."

 

"You saw what I can do."

 

"The Emperor is a harder target than I am. But we will see."

 

"About that. Please do tell me why we're killing the Emperor," said Ruth.

 

Scourge laid out the plan, a tremendous plan and a vile one. Ruth's heart sank even further than it already was when she realized that every operation she had supported had gone toward attempting to instigate mass death to swell the Emperor's power for his final sweep of destruction. This was what lay at the center of the darkness she had served under. This was what her work was for.

 

"Do we have the location of his true form?" she asked, more calmly than she felt.

 

"Not yet," said Wynston. He sounded cool, professional, but he wouldn't look at her. "We have a few candidates, dark spots in space where observers tend to disappear, but there are too many such candidates right now and we're still working on narrowing it down. We're hoping that the next time you head out to the Voice's fortress you can set up some telemetry; perhaps we'll intercept some communication we can use."

 

"If I'd thought of it I would've observed more closely back when I killed the Voice on Voss. As it is I don't know whether there's any Force phenomenon that could give us direction upon a Voice's death."

 

"I had nothing more than suspicions when Larr Gith struck down her Voice," said Lord Scourge. "But then, I was not physically present."

 

"Is there an annoyance big enough to draw him out?" asked Ruth.

 

"If we haven't already?" said Larr Gith. "Probably not."

 

"All right. How about a victory big enough to draw him out?"

 

Orphea blinked. "Was that a joke?"

 

"If we line up enough planets to die, will he come. Does he need to be physically close to benefit?"

 

"Not having destroyed enough planets to do this myself, I'm really not sure," said Larr Gith. "If anyone should know it's you, you're the resident Sith."

 

Lord Scourge glared at her.

 

Larr Gith waved dismissively. "The one who's still employed."

 

Scourge's glare didn't lessen when he started talking. "The matter of employment is significant. Wrath, so long as we do not know where to strike, it would be advantageous for you to stay where you have been assigned. Informing us on your activities should give us great insight into his plans, which you may sabotage or we may deal with."

 

"That's risky," said Jaesa. "She can do just as well with us here. That way her son would be safer, too."

 

"Her son is irrelevant," said Scourge.

 

"No, he's not," said Ruth and Wynston. They still didn't look at each other.

 

"His keeping is of no concern to me," said Scourge. "The Wrath should still remain on assignment."

 

"He's right," said Ruth.

 

"Are you sure?" said Jaesa. "Wynston would…"

 

"Let her go," Wynston said crisply. "She has a point."

 

"It is a little disheartening," said Vector, "to think that we arranged that effort only to bid you farewell again."

 

"Thanks, Vector," said Ruth. "But this is really for the best." Away from the boiling tensions here. "I'll go back. I'll sabotage. If you have any kind of sensors or spikes you want me to sneak onto the Voice's fortress on my next trip, now's the time to hand them over. And now I should get back to the Tenacity. There's no one there I can bring in on this right now, but you have my secure holofrequency and I will be reporting everything that might be of use."

 

"Thank you," said Orphea, and stood. "We do have some equipment I'll have our techs bring up. If that's all, I can escort you back to the landing pad."

 

The rest of the room chorused their farewells. Wynston's face was a stiff mask as he nodded at Ruth. "Watch your back, Wrath."

 

"Take care," she said. His expression didn't soften any.

 

She tore herself away and left.

 

 

 

 

L + 15 years 30 days, part 2: Reaction

 

 

 

Vector gave Wynston a couple hours' time. Wynston appreciated that. He could only imagine what his aura must have looked like when he got out of that room with Ruth: enough to cause concern, for sure.

 

But Vector did show up eventually. Wynston made sure to hide the first bottle; the second one was only slightly, acceptably reduced so far.

 

"Are you all right?" said Vector.

 

"I'll be fine," said Wynston.

 

"What did Ruth say?"

 

"What did she say? They found another way to control her, and she doesn't want to get rid of this one. She decided to forgive Quinn his little lapse in judgment." He shook his head. "I can gather enough legends to shut the Emperor up but I can't do anything about him."

 

Vector reflected for a long moment. "Will this be a security concern?" he asked slowly.

 

"Ruth? No." Wynston laughed bitterly. "He'll stop her in place, but if he succeeds in actually turning her she'll give us fair warning. Because she's good. Not like him. Not even like me. If she ever turns I believe she will actually walk in, say 'I can't do this anymore,' and give us a running start." He poured himself another drink. "That is what fifteen years of our grand love buys. Maybe I didn't maintain it too well."

 

"But without the Emperor's compulsion no one can make her turn. She knows the truth now about his plan."

 

"On whose word? How long is she going to believe mine now that she's listening to him? – No, it doesn't matter. She wants to go back. She wants to stay with him. She always did. When we were together on Corellia she wanted him even when I was in her bed, why shouldn't she want him when I'm – never mind. Never mind. She isn't going to compromise operations. It sounds like she'll report as long as her conscience lets her. We go on. At least the big mystical problem appears to have been cleared up. All that's left in play is free bloody will." He put his head in his hands. "And maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she can keep her head and bring him around after all. If anyone or anything in this wretched galaxy could redeem someone like that, it's her." Damn it all. "That she's even trying makes him the luckiest bastard that ever lived."

 

He drained his glass in one go. Vector was quiet.

 

"Love makes you stupid," Wynston said slowly, "but this is outright self-destruction."

 

"Perhaps."

 

"It's terrible! It's stupid!"

 

"If you will recall, you are on record as having threatened to dismantle all existing efforts against the Emperor's plan and 'let yourself and the galaxy burn' if Ruth could not be helped."

 

"That's different. I was bluffing."

 

"You should not lie to us. We have learned to tell."

 

"I was bluffing, Vector, it was just a lie I told to get the job done." He stood up and waved agitatedly. He was, he thought distantly, far gone. Well, sod clarity, it hurt too much anyway. "I thought she would be here tonight. We've had longer separations, but never when we didn't have to. Never when we didn't have to. And I can't do a thing about it this time except step unforgivably out of line or walk away. There's always a choice and she bloody well made it. Maybe on the terms we had it can't qualify as betraying me, but she's sure as hell betraying herself."

 

The only solution to this was another drink. Vector was clearly too whatevered to offer meaningful commentary. Sod vocabulary, too.

 

"Or maybe I'm wrong," Wynston said. "Maybe he isn't the menace he was, and it's a genuine choice, and I was never the one who was going to win that. I promised her years ago that when I left, I'd be sure to leave her better off than I found her. Maybe this is it. I hope I did." Stars. This babbling was doing no one any good and was probably going to destroy his one friend's respect for him. "Sod it." He waved dismissal. "Leave. I'll be ready for work in the morning."

 

"Things will be clearer in the morning."

 

"They will. It'll work. The mission goes on." He downed some more. "She's a woman, Vector, I meet a dozen of those a day. I can make time for one of them. More than I made for her." Against his worthless excuse for better judgment he whipped his glass to shatter against the far wall; the motion felt good. Something he could do. He considered sending the second bottle after it, and possibly the first, and perhaps the others he had lined up just in case he lasted that long. "Go on. I'm actually finding this therapeutic, it'll be fine."

 

"You are among friends, Wynston. We are here for you."

 

"Bugger if I know why. Please get out, flying glass is bad for you."

 

Vector, with a last sympathetic look, finally left.

 

How Wynston hadn't managed to knock himself out yet, he didn't know. He'd better drain the second bottle before he threw it.

 

 

 

 

L + 15 years 30 days, part 3: Homecoming

 

 

Ruth went straight to Quinn when she got home.

 

He followed half a step behind her side, as he always had, her faithful shadow, keeping pace with her until she reached their quarters. She didn't think about the Emperor, or the slaughters she had enabled, or how she was going to prove her case to Quinn. She thought a lot about the anger surging in Wynston the moment he started to think she was leaving him. She didn't think about whether she truly permanently was.

 

She threw herself into Quinn's arms the moment they were alone. The commanding poise she had been holding abandoned her. He pulled her close and didn't question her tears until she managed a non-sobbing breath and started trying to wipe her eyes.

 

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Is there…tell me what was commanded."

 

"He didn't ask for anything I couldn't handle. It's just that the meetings are difficult." She drew him to the bed and let her weariness press her to the mattress. "Just hold me."

 

"Done," he whispered, and did.

 

 

 

Notes:

 

 

The use of 'home' throughout this sequence is deliberate.

 

I'm not 100% sure in my records, but I intended this to be the first time Wynston addresses Ruth as "Wrath." (Ah, I have one instance of a formal address on a holocall, which she immediately, affectionately shuts down.)

 

 

Edited January 5, 2013 by bright_ephemera

[iamthehoyden]

"It's been long enough. And we know it won't happen again."

 

That was promising. "We do?"

 

"I don't think it will come to that."

 

…Not dramatically promising. "He's still dangerous? Like you always said?"

 

"He's still dangerous," she confirmed. "But he may listen."

Aw honey, that kind of hope is dangerous.

“No,” she said. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Woot!!! Something clicked!

 

Editing to cut down on the rage level. Let's just say I'm not a fan of R/Q and leave it at that.

Edited January 5, 2013 by iamthehoyden

[irishfino]

MUAHAHAHAHAAH! FEEL THE FEELS WYNSTON! FEEL THE FEELS!

 

As for Ruth, feel dat scruff.

 

 

Mmm scruff.

[bright_ephemera]

In case anyone jumped on this early, that ended up being a double story post, one on the previous page (I think, according to most forum display settings?) and one on this one.

[bright_ephemera]

L + 15 years 31 days: Ruth reminds Quinn

 

 

 

"I have to ask you something." Ruth lay on her side and watched her own finger tracing nothing in particular on Quinn's chest rather than looking at him.

 

He admired a lock of her hair contrasted against his hand. "What is it?"

 

"I told you something when you came to me. About the Emperor's command? How it was an actual compulsion, something I couldn't help."

 

"You told me you believed that," he said cautiously. When she looked, she saw his expression was one of near pity.

 

"Believe it. You know what mind tricks Jedi practice, what some Sith are capable of. How much more powerful is the Emperor?"

 

"He scarcely needs it," said Quinn. "You're responsible enough, I believe you have demonstrated that at considerable cost to yourself."

 

"I wouldn't have done that if not forced. And you saw how I was yesterday when I got home. That breakdown isn't something I ever did in normal operation." It wasn't because of the Emperor, either, but Quinn didn't need to know that.

 

With a cool fingertip he lightly traced her hairline and cheek, taking a little while before speaking. "You've been under a great deal of stress with the upheaval of this campaign."

 

"I've been under outright coercion. – Some of the time, not with you. Not ever with you."

 

He thought some more. "What is there to do about it?"

 

"There are Force techniques I can use to keep my own will. I'm getting good at them."

 

He frowned. "You have been opposing this for some time."

 

"Yes. I want my own mind, Malavai. I would even if he were benevolent…and he's not. He's a Dark Side presence that makes the Council and the ancient temples seem downright sunny."

 

"He is Sith. And placed even more highly than you, Ruth." There was steel in his gaze. It never really went away, not entirely.

 

"Is he above question?" she asked.

 

"Do you really wish to rebel again? Have you not risen high enough?"

 

"Don't talk about rebellion." Not yet. "I just want you to listen to me. He means harm, to me and to others. And he'll trample my mind and anyone else's for his goals. Do you believe that?"

 

He shifted, cradled her face in his hands. "I believe he has exerted some power over you. I believe that you do not enjoy that aspect of your service." He sighed and kissed her lips, her forehead. "But, beloved. Twice before I have been forced to watch, and to endure the consequences, as my commanders were consumed by their own paranoia. I cannot bear that fate for you. If there is evidence to justify some course of action I will follow you to the ends of the galaxy, face any trial, offer you everything I am. But you must be sure. I cannot commit treason based on discomfort alone."

 

It was so much like good intentions. It twisted in her chest. So much like good intentions, but not enough. She had nothing that would convince him of the assertions she was going to make. "And if I commanded you to obey me without question?" An unexpected surge of bitterness prompted her to add "That's your specialty, isn't it?"

 

"You never did that."

 

"Would it have made a difference if I did?"

 

He released her face and covered his own. "I warned you that I am not in your direct chain of command. That warning was itself an indiscretion but you deserved to know. Please, don't persist in chasing shadows."

 

"He's going to kill us. You, me, everyone. No, he didn't put it in writing, but it's true."

 

Quinn rolled onto his back and stared upward. She could tell he didn't want to call her crazy to her face.

 

"And he's hurting me," she added desperately.

 

He looked back. "That much is clear. How much…" He stroked her hand, gently, and seemed to test the beginnings of several words before continuing. "How much of it has to do with your own defiance, I don't know. I know what you must think of that and I swear to you I'm not saying this to hurt you. If there is some kind of proof, show me. Until then I'll give him no reason to harm you. Please, I beg of you, for your own sake do likewise."

 

Just keep working until the pain goes away. His only solution. She could hate him for it. Fighting just then wouldn't help, though; in fact, it might endanger everything. What risk was he taking, letting her tread so close to treason? And what was he going to do once he had some time to think about it, this man who would sacrifice anything to the right authority?

 

"You're right," she said abruptly, and made herself relax a little. "It's just hard sometimes."

 

He took her back in his arms. "I know."

 

He did know. So why was he always so afraid to change it?

 

She kissed him, slowly, to soothe his fears or her own, whichever came first. This was what she could have for now. If he couldn't know, he couldn't know; the mission would go on. It had to. And she would find a way to save him. He loved her, in spite of the limits all around them, and she couldn't stop loving him in spite of the same. She silenced the chiming alarm and held him down for a few more moments, work day be damned. He gave her that much, at least. He could accept a small rebellion with concrete and believable benefits. It was what she could have, what she was permitted.

 

Then she got to work.

 

 

 

L + 15 years 31 days: Orphea gets going

 

 

 

Orphea held still when she woke. Inventory: half dressed, one agony of a hangover, experience from earlier harder-living years suggested that she could walk well enough and would, after some water and some mild drugs, be able to pass for functioning within half an hour. Location, not at home. No. At home, because the Aegis, not Dromund Kaas, was home. Should've gotten that firmly in the mental file years ago. Surroundings, her quarters, which reeked of a couple of varieties of alcohol. At least one of them smelled expensive. A mouse droid was doing its best to stay silent as it cleaned the floor.

 

A temper tantrum. Kaliyo, he thought irrelevantly, would have been proud.

 

She thought, not he. Orphea, not Wynston. Wynston couldn't be here. Wynston would've gotten himself ripped to shreds if he'd showed his face. Mustn't let that happen. Moving on, identity: female, midlevel operative so far as her contacts were concerned, name: Orphea. Priorities, in order: see the Wrath free and the Emperor dead.

 

Well. The Wrath was free. Huzzah for victory. Now it was time for the Emperor to burn.

 

This was no longer morning inventory, this was wallowing. Orphea had fired agents for this kind of nonsense. The mission went on; it had to. Move. The disguise could be easily tweaked to conceal rather than fitting to puffy eyes and the like. She went to the mirror, fixed that up, downed some water and some painkillers, rehearsed speaking a few dry sentences involving 'the Wrath' until she was sure she could hold her composure going over strategy today. Where was the Wrath, anyway? Was she safe? Was she happy? Would she remember herself? Did she want to? Was any part of her still waiting for – him?

 

Orphea rehearsed speaking a few dry sentences involving 'the Wrath' until she was sure she could hold her composure going over strategy today.

 

Then she got to work.