Irrepareable Damage

[Kitar]

Good evening everyone. My day has been unusually hectic and since I plan to spend my Saturday outdoors, I thought I would post a day early.

 

@ Frauzet.

It was a bit surprising when I wrote this one awhile back that Aric was now in a position to understand why Tavus defected. The broken mouse droid is very suspicious, hopefully he will remember to follow up on that thought to have Jonas check his apartment. I personally am waiting for the other shoe to drop, all this sneaking around is bound to catch up to them at some point.

 

 

Spoilers

Dorne's companion quest

 

 

CHAPTER 65

 

 

 

Year 3635 month 4 week 3

 

THUNDERCLAP & NAR SHADDAA

 

Setting the datapad down he looked around, he swore he heard that noise again. Straining he listened; filtering through the different hums, thumps and subtle whines that created the distinctive heartbeat of the Thunderclap. There, he heard it again. A muffled sob.

 

Frowning he set his datapad down, he debated if he should investigate. He highly doubted his XO was even capable of crying. The sound had sounded distinctly feminine, so in all likelihood it could be Dorne. What could possibly have upset her? She was always so composed.

 

Another muffled sob filtered through the air. His frown deepened. What could of upset her?

 

Slowly he stood, careful not to move his chair. On quiet bare feet he padded out of the galley. Roaring laughter erupted out of the Major's quarters. Glancing at the room he quickened his steps heading to the medic's sanctuary.

 

Pausing outside the room, he waited listening, moments later another sniffle filled the air. Quietly he knocked upon the open doorframe. Drone's shaky voice answered, “Come in Sir.”

 

Stepping into the medical bay he saw her sitting in a chair dabbling her eyes with a crumpled tissue. Her hand tucked a wayward wisp of blonde hair behind her ear. Standing she turned to face the Cathar. “Do you need assistance, Sir?”

 

Aric shook his head. “What's the matter Dorne?”

 

She shook her head, “Nothing Sir.”

 

Aric sighed, “I heard you crying, what happened?”

 

She look up at him green eyes brimming with tears. “I didn't want to bother you, you have already been so helpful.”

 

He stepped closer, “What is the matter?” His concern was growing, he had never known her to be so evasive.

 

She dabbed her eyes, “I received a holocall a couple days ago. It was from an Imperial frequency, so I was very hesitant to open it. I took it to the Major, I had wanted her to hear it with me so I had a witness when I watched it. I'm still being watched so closely by Personnel I wanted it to be clear that I have not been communicating with any Imperials. The Major dismissed me, told me to deal with it myself, that it was probably some old boyfriend.” Elara tucked her hair behind her ear, “I opened it up, it's, it's from my brother he's in serious trouble. I don't know what to do.”

 

“Let me see the message, maybe I can help.”

 

“Are you sure Sir? It's complicated and he is still in the Imperial Army, I don't know what we can do.”

 

“Then let's see it, can't make any plans until I know the situation.”

 

“Yes Sir,” she sniffled as she cued up the recording.

 

He quietly stood hands clasped in front on him; Dorne's attention was taken by the blue figure that materialized before them. Subtly he depressed a nearly invisible button on his wrist-chrono. He intently watched her brother as he pleaded for help.

 

When his blue form blinked out of existence Aric looked at her, “I might be able to help. I do need to know, what is more important, getting him out of there safely or having him defect to the Republic?”

 

She didn't hesitate, “I want him safe, that he would reach out to me shows how dire his situation is. I would like him here with me, but knowing he is safe would be enough.” She looked at him puzzled. “Why?”

 

Aric gave her a small grin, “I wanted to be able to use all resources available.”

 

She gave him a hesitant smile, “You know people who can help.” It was not a question but a tentative statement.

 

“I do,” he nodded, “if you will excuse me I will start working on helping you, when I have a plan I will tell you.”

 

Her smile widened, she moved wrapping him in her arms. “Thank you so much.”

 

He wrapped his arm around her, “Your welcome Elara. Now let me start making some calls.” She nodded releasing him from her embrace.

 

As he left the med bay, he looked over his shoulder, “Dinner will be ready soon.”

 

She smiled at his retreating form.

 

Stepping into the crew's barracks he locked the door. Clawing the blue button on his watch he waited four seconds then cued up his personal holocommunicator. A dark robed form flickered into view. Smiling he gave a slight nod of his head, tapping his wrist-chrono. The robed figure returned the nod.

 

Her voice filled the air, “Line is secure what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

 

Aric frowned, “I’m afraid its not a social call. I need your help. Apparently a Hutt has taken something that does not belong to him.”

 

“Oh?” her eyebrow arched, “He take your toys?”

 

He shook his head, “Yours actually.”

 

“What?”

 

“On the Smuggler's Moon, there has been some sort of incident. This might explain things faster.” He pulled the small dataspike out of his wrist-chrono and slid it into the holo's dataport. Pushing a series of buttons he forwarded to her the transcribed holocall.

 

Frowning she reviewed the incoming text. “There is enough information here for me to work with,” she returned her gaze to him, “I take it the recipient of the call is someone close to you?”

 

He nodded, “Our medic, she's a good woman.”

 

“This man is her relation?”

 

“Yes her brother.”

 

She nodded, “I understand. I will do it, for you. Continue to use the utmost discretion when handling this issue.”

 

“Thank you.” He smiled, “I am always discrete when it involves you. Doubt I’m going to change now.”

 

“Will you be able to be moon-side in forty-eight hours?”

 

“Yes, I am supposed to met Doctor Zarn to talk about rifle scopes in roughly forty-two hours at the Slippery Slopes.”

 

She frowned, “Your kidding.”

 

He grinned, “Not at all,” he winked, “in fact I’m talking to him right now arranging the time so I can properly log it into the ships com records.”

 

Rubbing her hand along her temple she sighed, “I honestly don't care, as long as it gets you two to the moon without any complications.” She moved her hand off the com and stopped. “One other thing, is she expecting to take this toy with her?”

 

Aric shook his head, “His safety is her top priority.”

 

She stared at him waiting, when he didn’t offer anymore of an explanation, she spoke. “She would like him to though, wouldn’t she?”

 

Aric nodded. “She would.”

 

“Alright, two standard days meet in the back room at the Star Cluster.”

 

~*~*~

 

“Sir, are you sure this is where we are supposed to meet?”

 

“Yes Dorne, I’m positive.”

 

She continued to pace the length of the table. They were in a secluded section of the Casino; the lighting was low, emanating from decorative gilded transparisteel sconces. He was reclining back into a deep burgundy cushioned booth; he could feel the beat of the adjacent dance club pounding through the floor. She arrived at the end of the table, briskly turned on her foot and resumed walking, “But, I don't... shouldn’t we be doing something more constructive?”

 

He smiled, “Nope, we are to wait right here.” He took another pull off his beer when he felt eyes watching him. Glancing towards the entrance he saw a tall very muscular beskar clad form paused on the private room's threshold. When he locked eyes with the Mando's helmeted visage, the hunter slowly entered the room. Aric glanced at Dorne and slid out of the booth, abandoning his bottle, “Wait here.”

 

He walked up to the Mando, as he approached the hunter reached up removing his helmet, revealing bronze, tattooed skin. Winking an emerald eye, the hunter clipped his helmet to his belt, before running gloved fingers through his black hair, pushing it off his horned brow. “Su'cuy Buir.”

 

Aric stared at him momentarily stunned; he knew what buir meant. Aric realized he was now a stepfather but it was the first time he had actually heard one of her children call him father. The Zabrak's smile widened as he took a step closer, reaching out with his saber hand. The movement jarred Aric into action, he reached out grasping Kiernan's hand as his other arm wrapped around his back slapping him on the shoulder.

 

As Aric dropped his arms he looked behind his massive stepson, standing in the shadows was a blond man, the near carbon copy of Elara. He looked haggard as if he had not eaten nor slept in days, his grey uniform was torn and dirty, but he carried himself with dignity. “Aleksei?”

 

The man nodded, he stood still hesitating in the doorway's shadows, eyes locked onto Elara.

 

Aric nodded his head towards the table where Elara stood stock-still. “Go on, we will give you some privacy.”

 

The Imperial gave him a brisk nod, muttering what sounded like 'Thank you Sir,' as he stepped past them to his waiting sister.

 

Aric looked to Kiernan, the hunter was watching the two siblings across the room. The Zabrak looked down at him, “Very happy to see each other, great sadness too.”

 

“Come on, lets give them time alone.” Aric stepped around the massive hunter and out into the casino. Kiernan followed closing the door behind him, he hailed a serving droid. The small astromech made a quick beeline to their location. Dropping a couple Hutt credit chits on the tray Kiernan leaned down closer to the droid, “Ne'tra gal, t'ad.” The droid whined at him, he held up two fingers, “'lek two.” Beeping a confirmation the droid rolled away into the depths of the casino to fill the order.

 

“I was not expecting you to bring him.” Aric took a seat in a vacant chair near the private room.

 

Kiernan shrugged sitting across from him, “Buir thought it best.” He jerked his head towards the door, “She has seen me, thinks I am a mercenary.”

 

Aric nodded as he studied the half-blooded Zabrak sitting across from him, “Was it difficult to get them out?”

 

Kiernan shook his head, reaching up to tuck a long lock behind his ear, “Not hard, just aggressive negotiations.”

 

Aric rolled his eyes, “Stars you sound just like your mother, you Force choked the Hutt didn't you?”

 

White teeth flashed as a deep rumbling laugh erupted out of the Mando. “Fastest way to get what I want, the worms have no honor,” his grin widened.

 

The droid returned, a low whine announced its arrival. Kiernan reached over grabbing the ales. Handing one to Aric he took a deep drink. “Next time come with Buir, very satisfying.”

 

Aric shook his head taking a sip of the black ale. It was surprisingly bitter free, sweet and went down smooth. It was good, taking a longer pull he watched the hunter over his glass. He was reclining against the chair, arm draped across the back, bright green eyes constantly moving over the shadowed casino floor, his mother's eyes encircled by fiery limbal rings, rimmed in dark gold lashes. He exuded a cool confidence, that went far beyond his physical years, did that come from being Sith or was it just a careful control of the cockiness of youth? Aric studied his stepson's face, Kiernan possessed his mother's mouth but the rest of the hunter was his father and he was young, though his age was hard to place due the thick black facial tattoos.

 

Kiernan looked at him over the rim of his mug, brow raised.

 

Aric jutted his chin towards him, “Your blond, you dye your hair.”

 

Kiernan frowned as he took a drink, “'lek, I do.”

 

Aric, took another pull off his mug, motioning to the serving droid. “Why?”

 

The hunter shifted in his chair, “Look just like Buir,” his eyes drifted to the wall behind the Cathar.

 

“Does it upset Kit? Is that why you dye it?”

 

Kiernan shook his head, “Ner Buir's looks killed him, ge'tal Pureblood wanted him, exotic conquest. He refused her, ner Buirs already married,” he rested his hand on his stomach, “and yaihadla. Di'kut persisted, decided no one would have him. Ambushed him in a tomb, had poisoned the blade. Ner Buir... my Mother felt it, tried to save him, she killed the Pureblood and Father died in her arms.”

 

Aric's eyes widened, he had no idea. No wonder Kit was so protective of her son, and of him. Aric shook his head, “I am so sorry, I didn't mean to … I never knew what happened, she doesn't speak of Tyzoth.”

 

Kiernan shook his head, finishing off his mug. The serving droid beeped its arrival. Kiernan looked down at the droid raising his mug and flashing two fingers. Aric tossed a Republic credit chip on the serving tray, “Make it four.” The droid whined and wheeled away.

 

“He died on Korriban.” Aric looked at Kiernan trying to guess the kid's age.

 

The Zabrak nodded still not meeting Aric's eyes, he reached up brushing another stray black lock behind his ear. “Buir, Father was close to graduating. Mother left to raise me, returned when I was six.”

 

Aric tried to calculate his age, but he never knew what year Kit'ar returned or even what age she was when she graduated from the Academy on Korriban. He just knew his mate was young, so very young when she had her firstborn.

 

Kiernan finally returned his gaze to the Cathar's face, his eyes awash in gold, just like his mother's when she was upset. “Just ask. She was fifteen.” Kiernan shifted in his chair, “I will soon be eighteen.”

 

A low whine pulled Aric's attention away from his stepson. Glancing at the droid he tilted his head back and finished off his ale. Placing the empty mug on the serving tray Aric grabbed the full ones, setting them two at a time on the table. The droid beeped before it rolled off into the crowd. “Kiernan I am sorry, I didn't mean to upset you, I didn't know.”

 

Kiernan took a deep pull off his ale, “Not your fault, Mother does not talk about it.” He took another drink, “Why we were on Belsavis, hunting. We remember him on that day, we hunt.” Kiernan's gold eyes returned to his. “She was yours, when you slew the Terentatek. I saw it. You aided us not out of gain, but honor.” The Zabrak studied Aric's face, his eyes burning, he bought his left hand up and touched his bare ear, “This makes her incredibly happy, for that I am happy.”

 

Aric brought his hand up touching the aurodium rings along the upper edge of his ear. “She's everything to me, I am counting the days until I can remain at her side. I am so tired of having to be away from her.” Aric moved his hand away from his ear, resting it on the table as he took another drink.

 

Kiernan actually smiled, taking another drink. “Mother is planning a party for you.”

 

Aric nearly choked on his ale, barely swallowing it. “She's what?”

 

The Zabrak nodded, “At the Slopes, bringing in food, been trying to figure out the guest list.”

 

Aric shook his head; his mate was something else. Sighing he looked at Kiernan, “I have a Sith planning my retirement party from the Republic Army.”

 

Kiernan took another long swallow of ale, “Several Sith.” The Zabrak's grin widened, “Will be a good party.” Kiernan's smile faded as his eyes moved to the closed door behind them. “She does not know.”

 

Aric shook his head, “No she doesn't, I have not even found a way to tell her I’m retiring, Dorne is going to be crushed.”

 

Kiernan's smile returned, teeth flashing in the dim lighting, “Bring her to the party.”

 

Aric scratched the top of his head sighing, “Oh I’m sure that will go over well.” He shook his head, “No, I will think of something.”

 

Kiernan looked back at Aric, his eyes green, laced with gold. “They will be heading out here soon. I should be gone.” He tilted his head back killing his ale, Aric noticed all three mugs in front of the Zabrak were empty. Reaching into his belt the hunter pulled out a small piece of paper, setting it on the table he slid it across under his gloved palm. “Secure line, my private com if you need me again, no need to bother Mother.”

 

“Thank you Kiernan, for helping.” Aric palmed the slip, tucking it into his shirt pocket.

 

The Zabrak shook his head as he stood, unhooking his helmet. “No need,” he smiled down at the Cathar, “we are family.”

 

Aric rose offering Kiernan his hand. His stepson smiled, Kiernan grabbed his hand and reached around giving Aric a half hug. Aric returned the gesture. Aric's ear flicked as Kiernan's head jerked towards the closed room. “They are walking closer,” Aric murmured.

 

“'lek, they are.” Kiernan dropped his arms, grabbing his helmet. With a fluid motion he placed the helmet on locking it in place.

 

“Take care,” Aric softly called after his retreating form.

 

The hunter looked back over his shoulder, his voice distorted, “Good hunting Buir.”

 

Aric sat back into his chair taking a deep drink of his ale, watching the large Zabrak effortlessly weave through the casino's patrons disappearing into the crowd. Moments later the door opened. Elara stepped out dabbing at her eyes. Aric threw his head back killing his ale. Standing he moved to collect her.

 

She was shaking. Aric stepped closer, “Elara?” At the sound of his voice she crumbled into him, strangled sobs erupted. He wrapped his arms around her hold her as she shook. Aric looked into the room, her brother was standing by the huge wall encompassing window eyes downcast, wiping his face.

 

She shifted in his arms burying her head against his chest. “He's not coming with. Imperial Intelligence contracted that hunter to locate his squad after they went silent. He, he is staying with the Empire.”

 

Aric began rubbing her shoulder. “It's okay Elara, he's out he's unharmed. There is no reason why you can't keep in contact with him.”

 

“I can't, how can I? He is still in the military... Captain Kalor is determined to prove that I am still in communication with the Empire.” She shifted in his arms looking up at him, her cheeks glistening.

 

Aric smiled down at her, “Elara you can. He is your family, you have not seen him in years. I lost my own family years ago, I know how important he is.” He reached into his pocket pulling out a room key. “This is for the apartment, it's above the Slippery Slope, go enjoy the evening, catch up. Do not worry about Captain Kalor. He is no longer relevant.”

 

She shook her head, “Why is he no longer relevant?”

 

Aric's grin widened, “Apparently Personal discovered how much energy he has put into hounding you, a decorated attentive medic who has served above and beyond the call of duty for the Republic. In light of this discovery you have been granted full citizenship and with a small bit of bribery I managed to convince them to overlook your communications with your sibling.” He reached into his pants pocket pulling out a holocommunicator. “Now this records everything, incoming and outgoing, but it's secure and being given to you so you have a way to talk to Aleksei.”

 

He tucked a wayward blonde hair behind her ear as she took the com from his hand. “Aric, I … this is so unexpected, I don't know what to say.”

 

Aric chuckled, “Don't worry about it, it's what friends do for each other, go on.” He nodded towards her brother, “I will meet you back at the ship in,” he glanced at his chrono, “eight hours.”

 

She turned away from him and walked back into the private room; Aleksei looked up at her, brow furrowed as he looked from his sister to Aric. Aric nodded to him, before closing the door and walking away.

 

 

 

Mando'a in order of appearance

 

Su'cuy! - Hi!

Ner – my

buir – parent/father

ge'tal – red

yaihadla - pregnant

ne'tra gal - black ale

t'ad - two

'lek - yeah

di'kut - fool, idiot, useless individual

 

 

AN

Prompt on this one was Family

 

[frauzet]

I never played a dark side trooper, but I love how Jorgan gets to take the part of supporting Elara in your story!

Looking forward to the party. Although the cantina is a public place frequented by a lot of people from both the Republic and the Empire. Your comment makes me wonder whether there will be problems...

[Kitar]

No story posting today just a reply

@ Frauzet. My trooper is pretty nasty, she was pretty horrible and unhappy about being saddled with Elara, there is no way she would do anything to help her. As far as my trooper is concerned if she doesn't help her, Elara might get moved out of her squad.

As for the party, considering one of the people planing it is a Mando, they would probably look forward to any ensuing fights that might result and not really see it as a problem. Though you do bring up a very valid point, there could definitely be problems.

[Kitar]

Morning Folks

A short one for you today.

 

CHAPTER 66

 

 

 

Year 3635 month 5 week 5

 

THUNDERCLAP

 

With hurried quiet movements he prepared his plate, heaping a huge portion of stewed nerf over creamy white rice. Checking the vividly colored porcelain teapot he lifted the delicate lid inhaling the seeping beverage. Close but not quite, he should have a few more moments. Collecting the plate and eating utensils he slid out of the galley and hurried on padded feet into the medical bay.

 

He slid to the medical bed the farthest from the door, setting the steaming plate of food on the side table. Checking the open door he opened the table’s drawer, the chrome chrono quietly ticked away the time, two till six. He smiled, his body started to hum with excitement. Glancing one last time at the faithful chrono he bolted as quickly as possible back to the galley.

 

Grabbing the doorway to keep from sliding past the room, he cursed his inability to actually use his claws, was so much easier to move faster when he could properly grip things, but the sound they made when he dug them into the durasteel floor carried through the entire ship. He slid to the awaiting tea pot. Lifting the lid the warm spicy aroma wafted to him. Smiling he grabbed his cup and gingerly picked up the pot. Darting through the door he ran as quickly as he dared afraid to spill the piping hot tea and draw unwanted attention to himself.

 

Slipping into the medical bay he hit the door lock with his elbow. He ran to the last bed, placing the pot on the side table, before he jumped on the mattress. As he landed a beep sounded from his pocket. Grinning he pulled the holocommunicator from his pocket and set it on the bed in front of him. Clawtip depressing the button, a blue figure blinked into view. Grinning he leaned forward.

 

In front of him a Human woman was reclining on a couch her feet tucked up under her robes. “Good evening

Captain,” she grinned.

 

He made himself frown, she must have been working if she was using titles, this was supposed to be their time. “Good to see you,” his mouth twitched this was always hard, “my Lord.”

 

She smiled, a large genuine smile, it lit up her face. “Sorry, Aric, it has been an eventful week.”

 

“Not to eventful I hope,” his stomach twisted, hearing about her work always frayed his nerves.

 

“Are you still stationed above Belsavis?”

 

He nodded to the projection.

 

“Then completely uneventful,” she reclined back taking a drink out of a steaming tea cup.

 

The knots untwisted in his gut, the breath he was unknowingly holding escaped his lips. “Good to hear Kit.” He took a deep calming breath, forcing the thoughts of their deadly dance out of his mind, he trusted her to keep them separated.

 

“Something the matter?” she had shifted leaning towards him.

 

He felt a warm calming presence flood the room. Closing his eyes he let it wash over him, it never ceased to amaze him how she was able to do that. It was terrifying and completely comforting. He shrugged, “more of the same, I just miss you.”

 

She smiled, “I miss you as well. Nar Shaddaa in two weeks you will still be there won’t you?”

 

He nodded, “of course,” he forced himself to smile.

 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, but it had been months, three long months, he just missed her terribly. But he was not going to ruin this. Once a week they were able to sit and talk unknown, well more unknown on his part, she simply demanded that her crew leave. On more than one occasion he had been jealous of that ability. Leaning over he poured himself a cup of tea. He held the cup up showing her, before he took a sip.

 

“Oh good,” she reclined back again, “you got it.”

 

“I did, I was able to slip into the apartment to get it a few days ago, we had to stop there for supplies. Left you something,” he grinned and took another sip of the strong tea.

 

“Oh you did, what?” He shook his head and forced all relevant thoughts out of his head, thinking only of tea and singing na na na, letting the nonsense build in his mind.

 

“Oh darn it, you are getting to good at that.”

 

His grin grew as well as the nonsensical song. “Oh by the Force!” He heard her exhale frustrated.

 

“Stop trying to cheat,” he frowned at the projection.

 

“It is not cheating it is trying to gather intel.”

 

“You are trying to read my mind,” he grumbled.

 

“Well do you know a better way to get answers?”

 

“Fracking Sith,” he muttered.

 

She laughed. “All right I’ll stop.”

 

Un huh sure she was, he kept the inane thoughts of tea going through his head.

 

“So,” he leaned forward, “what do you have tonight?”

 

She shrugged, “I honestly don’t know, Vette seems to have disappeared and she promised to bring me dinner tonight.”

 

He glanced at the steaming plate next to the table.

 

“She waved her hand, go ahead eat, I know you have to be starving.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Of course just eat slow,” she winked as she took a sip of her tea.

 

She did not have to tell him twice he leaned over grabbing the plate and setting it on his lap.

 

“Now that looks good, stew?” She questioned.

 

He nodded taking a bite. He had developed quite the taste for Alderaannian foods as of late, she loved the planet and whenever the two of them had the ability to actually sneak off together that is where they headed. “Yes, nerf actually.”

 

She took a deep drink of her tea, looking at him eyebrow arched, “knowing you, you made enough for the entire ship, I wonder how long it would take me to get there.”

 

“Don’t know, do you really want the crew knowing that you and the Major are related?”

 

She sighed, “No not really, would create quite the headache for me.” He smirked at her and continued to eat.

 

“Oh hey my Lord,” a voice said off screen, “talking to the brooding cutie?”

 

“I heard that,” he muttered.

 

Laughter flooded through the projection. “Good evening Aric,” the voice bubbled back.

 

“Good evening Vette,” he grumbled.

 

The exuberant Twi’lek slipped into the frame, handing Kit a plate, “sorry its late, had some technical difficulties.”

 

Kit stared at her friend. “Was the damage permanent?”

 

“Nope,” she chirped, “just discovered a new way to make popped corn.”

 

Kit held up her hand, “I don’t want to know, I’d like to eat dinner.”

 

Vette grinned at her before she winked to Aric, “Don’t stay up to late, busy day tomorrow.”

 

He watched Vette take a few rushed steps out of the frame, “Okay okay I’m going I’m going.” He grinned knowing Kit had Force pushed her.

 

“Ahh better,” she took a bite of her dinner, “not bad.” She twirled long noodles on her fork, “oh there is roasted fowl in here, veggies too.” He leaned over to pour himself more tea, he settled in eating in the comforting silence that filled the room. Occasionally one of them would comment on dinner, usually to only hear a mumbled grunt in response. As they finished the conversation started. He always marveled how easily they managed to talk and totally avoid mentioning anything significant about the cold war they were engaged in.

 

She was telling him about a new tomb that had been discovered, she asked if he wanted to go explore it. He shuddered involuntarily, he was not quite up to a Sith tomb spelunking. He mentioned they should return to Voss, investigate the ruins they had seen there. She practically glowed, and pulled out a datapad trying to figure out when she could secret him away so they could head back there.

 

A simultaneous beeping erupted, his chrono and her's started to diligently sound their preprogrammed warnings. It was midnight, Dromund Kaas time, he was going to be getting less than three hours of sleep tonight.

 

She looked at him frowning. “That damn thing,” she muttered.

 

He nodded sharing her sentiment. He hated that alarm. He brought his fingers up to his lips, he felt the room flood with warmth. She mirrored his motion, kissing her fingers, she held them up to the projection, “good night Aric,” she smiled.

 

He held his fingers out, “Sleep well Kit,” he watched as her hand lowered slightly and her connection blinked out of existence.

 

Slipping the small holocom into his pocket he laid back on the medical table, pulling the blanket around himself, he grabbed the pillow wrapping his arms around it. As he drifted off to sleep he comforted himself with the thought, nine days to go and on that night I’ll have my arms wrapped around her. As he sank into a deep slumber he had a smile on his lips.

 

 

 

AN

Prompt is food.

 

[frauzet]

Still chuckling over the way Aric tried to keep Kit out of his mind.

Nice and relaxed chapter, Aric has earned it!

<3

[Kitar]

Opps, I was in such a hurry to post so I could get outside and start the four hour marathon that is mowing my yard I forgot to respond

 

@ Frauzet I will admit that one was a fun bit of fluffy stuff to write. It was a break from more of the rougher stuff I had been working on at the time. Glad you liked it.

 

Good Morning everyone. This one is another cross post from the AU thread. And I forgot the clicky.... for those that have to have it for whatever reason.

 

Spoilers: None I can think of does contain drug/alcohol use.

 

CHAPTER 67

 

 

Year 3635 Month 6

 

 

NAR SHADDAA

 

A low rumbling filled the air. What is that? Her hand drifted down to her hip hovering over her saber hilt. Twisting sideways she proceeded down the hall; her left foot leading her right. Reaching out through the Force she investigated the odd rumbling noise. She felt a fuzzy warmth, confused she paused. The low rumbling returned, filling the corridor. By the Force what was going on? Again she reached out and felt an enveloping fuzzy-feeling warmth.

 

Cautiously she continued down the corridor. As she approached the apartment, she realized the door was wide open. She slowed, that's not right. Why is the door open? The low rumbling grew louder, building as it rolled down the hall. What was going on? Frowning she continued.

 

She paused just before the door's threshold, the rumbling had deepened and it was joined by an equally deep hissing. Canting her head she listened, trying to identify the noises. Nothing, she just couldn't place them. Swallowing a growl of frustration she advanced on the door, stepping into the apartments dimly lit interior.

 

What greeted her caused her eyebrows to shoot skyward. Sprawled before her, shirtless and rolling his face along the burgundy velvet upholstery of the chaise lounge, was Aric. He was apparently the source of the low rumbling noise. She watched as he rubbed one cheek, then the other, his eyes barely open, a look of pure contentment on his face.

 

The odd hissing noise returned, pulling her attention away from the oddly behaving Cathar. Moving past him she headed deeper into the apartment. She discovered Pierce a few meters away sitting within the kitchen underneath the table. He was playing with a small toy Imperial Walker and a toy solider, muttering barely audible commands followed by a low hissing laughter. Alright by the Ninth Corellian Hell what is going on, she thought.

 

“Lieutenant, what are you doing?” She crossed her arms, frowning at Pierce.

 

“Ohh heeey Kiit.” He looked up at her grinning, eyes wide, black pupils consuming his brown irises. They slid skipping as he looked at her face.

 

What had they gotten into? “Oh hey Lieutenant, what are you doing under the table?”

 

“Fightn',” he smiled at her before dropping his bouncing gaze back to the toys.

 

“Fighting hmm, why are you fighting under the table?”

 

“Hidin',” he didn't even look up.

 

She frowned again. “Why are you hiding?”

 

“His shirt, it's out ta get us.”

 

She sighed rubbing her temple. “It's out to get you?”

 

“Yesss!” He picked up the little soldier, making low-pitched blaster noises. He then nudged the walker over, his low hissing laughter growing.

 

“Where did you two go tonight Pierce?”

 

“Oouutt.” The walker righted itself, promptly stomping the soldier to the smashing staccato of mouth-made mechanized steps.

 

“Out where? Go anyplace fun? See any new people?”

 

“Ohhh yeaah, wees did. A cigarra salesmen. Hhee was new.”

 

A cigarra salesmen? Since when did cigarras get sold outside cigarra shops? “Where did you find this salesmen,” she asked Pierce.

 

“Oohh at ta cantina Steen ... Stenk... Stinky Somthin'. Aric had smoked his last one n' wanted more. N' this guy hee had sum.”

 

“How many cantinas have the two of you been too this evening?”

 

His massive shoulders just shrugged, “Couple maybee.” The walker fell over barraged by more blaster fire. “Ohh,” he picked his head up, “we won! Our Huttball team won!”

 

“So you were out celebrating? How much did the two of you drink?”

 

“Oh, lots,” his near black unfocused eyes dropped back to the toys.

 

“Great,” she muttered to herself, “they got hammered at the game, then continued celebrating. At some point they got their hands on these cigarras, lovely.” She sighed; well maybe if she was lucky the cigarras were still here somewhere so she could potentially figure out what exactly those two had smoked on top of all that alcohol they consumed.

 

Moving back to the living room she bent over picking up Aric's discarded shirt. Absentmindedly she smoothed the shirt, when her hand brushed against something in his front pocket. “Really ...” her fingers slipped into the pocket, touching the smooth paper of a cigarra. “Now that is convenient,” she murmured. Bringing the brown cigarra to her nose she inhaled and promptly grimaced. It reeked of the earthy, slightly sweet smell of dreamroot. Well that would explain why they were acting the way they were. The cigarra's were heavily laced with the plants dried foliage, it was a parasitic but rather pretty blue flower that grew within the upper boughs of the wroshyr tree. Shaking her head she walked into the living room, noticing the constant undercurrent of rumbling was gone. Aric was sprawled on his stomach, body draped along the lounge, head resting on his arm sound asleep.

 

“What am I going to do with the two of you?” She muttered, “don't tell me I will have to babysit the both of you when you go out.” Reaching out her right hand she Force pulled a blanket to her from its usual resting spot on the sofa in the corner. Unfurling it she let it settle over Aric's slumbering form. Kneeling she brushed his disheveled mane out of his face; the rumbling resumed at her light touch. Gently she kissed him; he shifted slightly, smiling.

 

A hovering frown on her lips she stood, she still didn't understand why they had bought spiced laced cigarras, the two of them were usually more levelheaded than that. She returned her attention to the offending cigarra in Aric's shirt pocket. Wait, Aric was the one that had wanted more of them, they were already pretty heavily intoxicated and in a strange area in an unknown cantina.

 

She froze, emerald eyes widening, the plant was a sedative in small doses, in larger it produced feelings of happiness and euphoria. Used medicinally by the Wookies, it was also used recreationally by those who didn't want to suffer from the harder withdrawals of processed spice, as well as slavers who wanted to subdue without fighting there soon to be victims.

 

Clutching the shirt to her she practically bolted to the kitchen, “Pierce,” she yelled as she entered the room. “Oh by the karking Void!” There curled up around the walker was one very sound asleep Imperial. “Bloody hell!” She yelled at the incapacitated man. Fuming she stalked from the room. How long had they been home? They were totally oblivious to everything around them, they had left the door wide open; hadn't even realized she was home until she spoke to them. Just how many of those things did they smoke? And where was that oh so nice salesmen who sold them the drug laced smokes? If her time estimation was at all right, they should be around here somewhere just waiting for her boys to pass out.

 

Yanking the cigarra free from the shirt she tossed the garment against the wall. Shoving the blasted brown wrapped problem into her robe pocket she Force pulled her saber hilt to her hand. Reaching out through the Force she felt for anything anyone new, ignoring the fuzzy warm signatures of the two comatose men slumbering away in the apartment. There near the door to the lift one floor below, three dimly lit nervous pulses. Reaching out she tried to gleam more, her ability paled compared to Jaesa's but she learned enough to act, those three were nervous, greedy and excited. As much as she hated to do this so close to their apartment, it was just unavoidable.

 

Pulling out her holocommunicator she thumbed a familiar frequency, a form blinked into view, his normally vibrant red skin dulled to a dark blue. “My Lord,” the Twi'lek bowed, “what do I owe this pleasure?” his thickly accented Basic filled the silence.

 

“Work I am afraid, there are three soon-to-be-departed slavers on the floor below mine, I shall need assistance in removing the trash.” She frowned at the man's projected image.

 

“Pity then, was hoping it might be a social call. I shall be along shortly.”

 

“Thank you Jy’lith.”

 

“Of course my Lord.” Jy'lith smiled at her before his blued image disappeared.

 

As if on queue, the lift doors opened. Stepping to the side and well out of view, she waited. They were noisy, the would-be kidnappers, jabbering on about profits and windfalls. She scowled listening to them counting aloud the credits they stood to make. They paused outside the open door. “Ahh, there is one of them. Look he thinks he's safe now that he's home,” a nasally voice laughed. The voice edged closer, “Look at them sparkling ears, told ya them fancy baubles in his ears were aurodium.”

 

Another voice raspy and nervous responded, “If he's wearing such fancy things, don't ya be thinking he might be missed?”

 

“Nonsense,” Mr. Nasally responded, “can't miss what ya can't find. Move quick, need to get them 'afor someone be seein' us.”

 

She stepped into the open doorway, stopping their entry.

 

“Aww what's this, little lady thinks she's gonna stop us. Boys get her it be a profitable day.”

 

She shook her head staring the mismatched crew down, Mr. Nasally was a Nitko, dressed in stained and ripped leathers. Flanking him was a green Rodian wearing what might have once passed as a white trenchcoat, now stained with things she would rather not imagine and a dark blue Nautolan who was emitting a rather intoxicating wave of fear. Seems there was at least one in this lot with some sense.

 

The Nautolan nervously backed up, “I'm not touching her.” His raspy voice confirming what she already suspected, he was the one unsure about the logic of this little endeavor.

 

Mr. Nasally growled, “Yes you are, pretty woman like that is comin' with us.” He gestured to the Rodian, “Get her and that Cathar. I already have buyers who be wanting the males.”

 

“Not anymore you don't,” her hand shot out and a sickening crunch filled the air. The Rodian's lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

 

“A damned Jedi,” Mr. Nasally hissed.

 

“No,” the Nautolan whispered, his dark skin paling. “Not a Jedi, Sith.” Shaking he stumbled backwards tripping over his own feet, falling with a thump to the floor.

 

“Sith, don't be ridiculous, she don' look like no Sith, she...” Mr. Nasally stopped speaking, voicelessly mouthing words as he stared at the blue plasma blade in his chest.

 

She turned towards the huddled alien, wordlessly deactivating the humming hilt in her hand. Ignoring the still gasping Nikto she walked toward the Nautolan. “Please,” he held his hands up, trying to ward off her advance. “Please, don't.” He pushed himself backwards, his ratty boots barely finding purchase on the hall's carpet. “Please, don't, I told them not to... that those two were not easy marks. But Boss,” he held out a trembling hand pointing at the now stilled Nikto, “he insisted we do it.”

 

“Please, I am sorry, I am. I didn't know he belonged to a Sith, had no way of knowin' he was your lover. I do now, I do, I can smell it, smell him on you.” He brought his hands up to his face, blocking the view of the slowly approaching Sith. Moments later his horribly shaking hands slowly lowered, large confused black eyes stared at her. “My... my L... Lord?” he swallowed hard.

 

She studied him as he lay quaking in a mass much smaller than his physical size would of deemed possible. “Find another line of work.” She raised her hand, palm parallel with the floor, neat manicured plum lacquered nails all in a row. “Or do you require a more permanent Persuasion?”

 

Confusion dripped off his face, her proposition slowly working its way through his fear addled brain. Eventually it sunk in and he began to push himself backwards, while stuttering. “Yes... yes my Lord, of course. It's to dangerous, way to dangerous. I... I never saw you, or your lover. Never saw his huge buddy neither. I... I don't even know where I am.” He managed to get his feet under his body, standing he gripped the wall. “New line of work, never seen you, any of you, thank... thank you my Lord.” He bolted down the hallway, listing as he ran. The freaked out Nautolan never even slowed when the lift's doors magically opened in front of him. He barreled into the waiting lift, disappearing from sight when Kit closed the doors.

 

She sighed, unconsciously picking up the hem of her robe as she stepped over the bodies cluttering the floor. Closing the door, she stopped to manually enter the door's code into the numpad, exhaling a small sigh when the locks slid into place. Returning her hilt to her hip she crossed the room to her slumbering lover. She looked down at him smiling, dreaming some drug-induced dream; blissfully unaware of the danger he and Pierce had been in. Sitting down next to him on the chaise she began to idly play with the fine fur along his neck; quietly she removed her boots tucking her feet up on the chaise lounge.

 

Tilting her head back, sinking into the lounge, she closed her eyes still caressing Aric's fur. Neither of those two had any idea of just how bad their mornings could have been; how bad her morning would have been. Aric shifted beneath her touch, a content rumble filled the air. She debated telling them in the morning, it would all hinge on if they had the ability to remember actually buying more cigarras. If they didn't she wouldn't bother, but she did know, for a while, there would be no more Huttball games.

 

 

 

AN

 

Prompt: Altered States of Mind

 

Edited May 29, 2018 by Kitar

[frauzet]

I remember this one.

It's good Kit was there to save the day (or night).

How will the guys react to being 'grounded' if they can't remember what happened? Getting drunk doesn't seem like an appropriate reason for that. I imagine you have to expect Pierce to get drunk on a night out

This leads me to the thought that things could have gotten much worse. Just imagine they had gotten hold of a drug with an opposite effect. After Pierce and Jorgan going on a rampage, even Jy'lith wouldn't be able to help

[Kitar]

@ Frauzet

I think it was night

To be honest I don't know how they would react to being 'grounded'. Getting drunk at a game happens, probably getting pretty much plastered if you are out with Pierce, he could probably drink a bantha under the table... but wandering off and smoking drug laced cigarras, not good. I think when they wake up and are told what might have happened, it will probably prompt them to make sure they have their cigarras before they leave.

I did snicker at the image of Jorgan finally letting Pierce borrow his assault cannon and they run amuck blowing things up. I always thought he should have been allowed to have a cannon, and I honestly miss Jorgan having one after the expansion chapters :/

Jy'lith would probably turn around and go home, muttering the entire time he wasn't getting paid enough.

 

 

I have another chapter! Hopefully I will not forget anything this time, I have only a few minutes to post it before we are running out the door again.

 

Spoilers

Yes. End Game SW as well as End Game Agent, references and the Ilum fp, some SI titles thrown in there as well.

 

 

CHAPTER 68

 

 

 

Year 3635 Month 7

 

DROMAND KAAS & KORRIBAN

 

Her fingers drummed an annoyed cadence on the dormant screen on her datapad. They had called a special meeting of the Dark Council, not an act that was in and of itself unusual, the utter lack of any details as to why, had huge alarm bells going off in the back of her head. Something was wrong. She had been unable to raise either Nox or Vowrawn. She could not determine if their silence was intentional or not.

 

Missing the meeting was not an option. She had fought and clawed her way into her departed Master's Council seat. After the Council's appointed successor failed on Ilum she had again petitioned for the seat, and with the support of Nox and Vowrawn it was begrudgingly given to her with mutters and expressed suspicion that she was power-hungry and over-reaching. She had spoken frankly to the diminished Council, that since she had struck down Baras she had not received new orders from the Emperor. That to sit by idly would not be serving anyone’s interests, that her strength was best lent to the Council. She assured them at the time she once again was summoned to do the Emperor’s work that she would find a suitable successor.

 

Since that time things had become more stable, the mortality rate of Darths seemed to decrease, their success securing Corellia flawless, Balmorra was gradually falling in line, the small fires of rebellion slowly being extinguished. The behind-the-scenes support of the Republic military removed and with Minder Twenty's artful maneuvering their hold had tightened. Taris was once again a rakghoul preserve, though a few solid bases were being maintained to insure the planet remained firm in the Empire's grip.

 

Operations had continued with barely a hiccup even after recent upheavals. The disassembly of Imperial Intelligence, an action started by her late master, had been redressed. When it was delicately pointed out during a Council meeting that they were blind to Republic actions due to the dissolution of I.I. that thousands of invaluable agents were still in place and waiting for direction, eyes landed on Zhorrid's empty chair and the Minister was contacted. Malgus' treachery was not surprising, simply unfortunate. Being part of the strike force to deal with his deceit had been most serendipitous, the scientists and aliens who had joined under his mislead banner had eagerly joined their cause, they believed in the Empire but thought they had no place in it. The enthusiasm with which they threw themselves into their work to prove their worth had been very satisfying.

 

Things were going so smoothly the lack of any reasoning behind a special council meeting was fraying at her nerves. What reason could they possibly need to be convening? They had not reached any unanimous decisions on new appointees for the two vacant seats. The members that currently resided on the Council mostly saw eye to eye, the bickering and infighting had greatly subsided.

 

She sighed blowing her bangs out of her eyes, as she rubbed her fingers along her temple. What was going on? Behind her she felt a quiet but powerful presence. Without turning she stood and tucked her datapad into her belt.

 

His rich voice rumbled into the room, “It is time to go.”

 

Nodding she pulled her hood up over her head, taking a deep steadying breath she acknowledged and dismissed her petty fears and anxiety. Such emotions were worthless and would only hamper her. Her hand reached up caressing the woven gold links that lay against her neck, his image jumped before her eyes. His gumpy frown from her teasing; his earthy musky smell mixed with blaster oil. Her fingers twitched tracing patterns in his warm soft fur; heat began to grow in her center. Taking a calm centering breath through her nose she pulled on the sensation, encouraging it. The warmth grew surrounding her, arms wrapped themselves around him, as she sank into him, his rumbling voice filling her ears. She pushed his name far away from her, drawing instead on the passion the lust, burying the love she felt for him so no one would be able to discern the source to use it against her. She felt the Force rush to her surrounding her filling her with its smoky seductive fire. Bolstered, she tucked the simple chain under her armor and moved to stand next the waiting figure.

 

“Thank you for coming with me Great Grandfather.”

 

“Of course my child.” White teeth flashed form the depths of his cowl.

 

~*~

 

 

Her instincts had not led her astray. There was definitely something wrong. Every eye in the Council chamber locked onto her as she stepped over the threshold. Every seat, that was currently filled, possessed its owner. She had never seen the room so full, even the inane Zhorrid had managed to make her appearance. Kit slowly took each member in; digesting their body language, their facial expressions, searching for any clue. The only scrap she was able to glean, Zhorrid's jittery poorly suppressed smile, she promptly disregarded. The woman found hidden intrigues and jokes when ordering the daily lunch special at the Nexus Room, Kit'ar wondered, yet again, how such a creature could possibly share a genetic link to Jadus.

 

A small yet deep breath filled her lungs as she reached out pulling the Force to her, again drawing on her feelings of passion, amplified with her annoyance her anger at being the subject of a special council meeting. Her eyes scanned the emotionless faces; Nox shrugged reclining in her seat, Vowrawn smiled slightly hand reaching up to stroke a cheek tentacle, Mortis calmly returned her stare, Rictus reclined into his chair steepling his hands, Decimus frowned hand gripping the armrest. Slowly she took in the rest of the Council; Aruk was stonefaced, completely emotionless as she looked to him, his eyes narrowed when they locked gazes. Ravage was becoming agitated; she could feel his anger bubbling under the surface. Finally she locked eyes on Marr, completely ignoring the tittering fool, a feather pillow had more importance, if the idiot was not such a wonderfully impotent figurehead Kit'ar would have arranged for her to meet an unfortunate accident years ago.

 

Beside her she felt Great Grandfather pull from the Force, the Dark Side flowed to him, eager. She felt the disbelief as he lowered his hood and leaned his weight against his lanvarok, his robe sleeves falling back to his elbows to expose his four fingered hands. Schooling her features she locked her eyes on Marr's mask, might as well get this over with she thought. She smirked at the Darth, “you wanted to see me?” she purred.

 

 

 

 

AN

Prompt on this one was Defenses.

I always wondered why nothing ever happened in game to those painfully LS Sith, I know LS Jaesa will talk to you about it in her companion quests. Things never happen to your character.

 

[Kitar]

Soo.. I feel like I am spamming my own thread. I am posting early today, since tomorrow I will be trailing my mare up to the breeders!!!!1one!

 

Spoilers, none that I recall.

 

CHAPTER 69

 

 

Year 3635 Month 7 immediately follows preceding prompt

 

NAR SHADDAA

 

Ahh thank you, his weekend was about to officially begin. He only wanted to get home, get a quick shower in the 'fresher before cracking open a cold beer and flipping on the huttball game while he waited for her. Whistling to himself he stepped out of the lift and keyed open the entry to their apartment. He was not expecting what he saw.

 

She was pacing in the middle of the room muttering to herself. She was an armored disheveled mess. Still dressed for combat and apparently frazzled, only one thing got her so worked up. A Council Meeting. Slowly he dropped his bag on a chair and palmed the door's activation plate closing it. Cautiously he approached her, clearing his throat when he was roughly a meter away.

 

She spun to face him, her eyes grew wide as she started shaking her head. “No, No you can't be here, you need to leave.” Her eyes searched the room landing on his dufflebag.

 

“What are you talking about?” He muttered. Yeah something definitely happened, not even a hello. “Where else am I supposed to be?”

 

She shook her head no, “You can't be here, you can't, it's not safe.”

 

“What are you talking about? Why isn’t it safe? What happened?”

 

She stared through him shaking her head. “It's not safe you need to leave, you need to. You have to go now,” she Force-pulled his duffle to her. She shoved it at him, “you need to go.”

 

He sighed, dropping the bag at his feet. “I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what you are talking about, what exactly is going on?”

 

“No!” she screamed at him, “you need to go.” Her hands started to clench and relax as she stared through him.

 

“No,” he growled, “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

She stared at the apartment door looking back at him, “You need to go you have to! You have to!”

 

He shook his head, he absolutely hated it when she got like this, something spooked the hell out of her, as a result her ability to actually string together coherent sentences had disappeared. He needed to do something to snap her out of it; he remembered once seeing an actor in a Holovid smack a hysterical woman to snap her out of it. Ahhh yeah no, that would most likely get him tossed through a wall. She had started wringing her hands as she stared at him, mumbling to herself. At least she was still semi-rational, her eyes had not started to change colour. He just had to do something to redirect her attention.

 

Taking a step forward he engulfed her in his embrace holding her tight, picking her up off the floor. His lips crashed into hers, he worried her bottom lip before deepening the kiss. Relaxing slightly she leaned into him, he felt her tongue run over a fang as she seemed to focus on him. Cautiously he broke for air.

 

She shook her head, managing to at least look at him instead of through him. “You need to go.”

 

Nope, he growled to himself, not quite. He picked her up higher, his mouth recapturing hers. He knew eventually he would find out what was going on, either she would manage to focus on him and calm down, or this would lead to him completely exhausting her and she would tell him what was the matter while they were extracting themselves from entangled sheets.

 

When he broke away, she leaned against him, throwing her arms around him. He maintained his grip on her, waiting. After taking a few deep breaths she spoke. “We have a problem, a big one. It really isn’t safe for you to be here.”

 

“And what exactly is this problem?”

 

She shuddered in his arms, “They know about you.”

 

“They?”

 

“The Council, they know.”

 

“What? How could they know, and why would they care?”

 

“I don’t know, I don’t but they do somehow they found out and they care.”

 

“When did you find this out?”

 

“A Special Session was called on Korriban. I just returned from the meeting.”

 

“A Special Session because of me, that seems a bit, well, over the top.”

 

“I don’t understand it, but they were pretty adamant.”

 

“Tell me what happened at this meeting, you have to let me know what's going on.”

 

She buried her head into his chest. “It was a special meeting, every Council member was there. They started questioning me, about everything. My methods, why I take people prisoner instead of executing them, why I negotiate with members of the Republic. They brought up years ago when I was on Nar Shaddaa why I let an entire squad of Republic troops go instead of killing them after I secured my victory. They were insistent as to why Jaesa was still an apprentice, why I had not taken on any others. The entire time Aruk was staring at me, the anger radiating off of him was palpable.”

 

“I answered them as well as I could giving just enough information to appease them, but the entire time I thought of you, I drew strength from you. I buried your identity, concealed it so none would know who you were. I... I encouraged the rage I felt at being questioned, I might sit on the Council but I am above them I only answer to the Emperor himself.”

 

“When they where belittling my choices, I told them, Marr specifically, that he should embrace his passions more, that rage and hate are not the only emotions. That if he would actually let people look upon his face that he might find out how fulfilling embracing ones passion could be. That seemed to help, seemed to ease the tension slightly. I didn’t want them to learn about you. That’s why you need to go. I can't live through something like that again.”

 

He tightened his grip on her, she was beginning to ramble again. He took a deep breath; he knew why they had called her, even if she was oblivious, so focused on keeping his existence hidden. It all snapped into place when she mentioned Darth Aruk giving her a death glare. He had heard Jaesa speak of the Darth, he was the reason she never went alongside Kit'ar to Council meetings. Jaesa had honed her ability so sharply she knew that Darth's intentions, what lengths he had gone to purge any and all Sith who didn't embrace Sith Philosophy as he viewed it and now he had to tell his Wife. “Kit'ar I am your Mate, your Husband and I’m not going to leave your side. I don't care who knows about us, but the Council doesn’t know, nor do I think they care.”

 

“What...” she shifted in his arms, looking up at him. “How can you say that?”

 

“Kit, think about it. If they knew about me don't you think the shuttle I was on would of suffered from any number of accidents? Assuming that they even want to strike out at you. They simply don't know. I was not the reason why you were called there. They were questioning how you use the Force. I always tell you that you are not very dark, that you are compassionate. I think Jaesa has rubbed off on you and the Council has noticed it. I think they were trying to find out if you were still Sith, or if you had somehow been, oh I don’t know the word for it...”

 

She sighed, “Redeemed, to turn to the Light Side of the Force. I haven't, I still hold true to my family's teachings, I have not turned my back on the Dark Side.”

 

“I know, but your usage is so very different from other Sith I have seen. It doesn’t help that most are raging balls of murder, whereas you are rational and even-tempered.” Absently he started running his fingers through her hair.

 

“Did the meeting come to blows?”

 

“No,” she shook her head, “after I answered their questions, I asked if there was any other business. Ravage snorted at me and Rictus shook his head, Marr thanked me for attending on such short notice and apologised for wasting my time, that such a meeting had been unfounded.”

 

“Then everything will be alright, they believed you. I could of told them myself that meeting was unnecessary. I know exactly what kind of Sith you are.”

 

 

 

AN

Prompt: Communication Breakdown.

 

[Minhere]

Good bit of reading when you start in May 2018, but worth it. Keep it up.

[frauzet]

I agree, the Council would be curious about a SW acting "too light-sided".

I am glad Kit got through the questioning. By now Aric seems to be a dangerous weekness of hers. I do hope Aric is right, and nobody is suspicious. I am not sure I agree with his opinion that nobody would care.

Looking foward to the next part.

<3

[Kitar]

So this is a first, I have to actually cut my post into two posts. First is my replies and my AN. The next will be my actual chapter post.

 

Posting early again. My parents are headed into town for my daughter's birthday. I'm not sure how much computer time I am going to have. So I will be early with this post and possibly late with the next.

 

@ Minhere

Ohh, a new commenter! Always exciting when someone new takes the time to comment. It is a bit long for someone who is just starting the story. I do hope you are enjoying it. I try to update twice a week if all is going well. Don't worry there is a lot more story to come, I just hope no one is getting bored with it.

 

 

@ Frauzet

Kit did get through it all, and you are right he is definitely a weakness of hers. Let's hope no one figures that out. For anyone knowing about them, well I shall politely take the fifth and neither confirm or deny the speculation. For I agree with you, it is highly unlikely that people will not care if they found out.

Here is the next part.

 

<3

 

 

AN

READ AFTER THE STORY

 

 

Prompt: Seven Deadly Sins, the sins are Wrath and Pride. Aric's Wrath and the Jedi's Pride.

From SWG the lovable jax! I didn't know the pural of the mighty jax so I made the decision to keep it as jax like with sheep and deer. http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Jax_%28animal%29

Besh = b Zerek = z Isk = I

Crillan Distillery – totally just made up my own fancy distillery

Euphoria's Edge – maybe?

Asha – Sith means Victory.

And for Aric's payment to the Agent, he successfully contracted and beat the rakghoul infection. That is something that definitely interest's my Agent, for research and possible use in the field.

 

[Kitar]

This one is a little long at 8.8k-ish words so get comphy.

Spoilers:

Minor ones I think for SW, might miss the reference.

 

 

CHAPTER 70

 

 

Year 3635 month 8

 

NAR SHADDAA

 

The warm aroma of browning meat filled the air, inhaling he smiled. It smelled so good. Dropping the last few floured pieces of cubed nerf into the pot he walked over to the fridge. Opening the door he grabbed another icy Correlian Ale. Wedging his thumbclaw between the cap and the bottle's glass rim he twisted his claw; the cap popped off and dropped onto his hand. Walking back to the stove he flipped the browning meat over. Leaning against the counter he took a healthy pull off the bottle, tossing the cap into the trash; this was the hardest part, leaving the meat alone. Grinning he looked at the pot, it had been part of the deal when he finally managed to finagle the recipe out of House Thul's head chef, that and a small but reliable blaster, he was to let the meat brown, no futzing.

 

The waiting had been so irritating until Aric realized that it took roughly two beers to properly brown all the meat, once he was ready for his third one, it was time to add all the veggies. When he needed a fourth the veggies were properly 'happy' as the chef put it, then he would just toss everything back into the pot, add about half the fourth beer, along with some spices and nerf stock, toss the lid on and wait for it all to cook.

 

Shifting his weight against the counter he glanced back at the wall chrono, he still had about twenty minutes before the pod race started. Taking another pull he peered inside the pot, the meat was ready. Once he pulled it out and tossed in the diced veggies he could take a shower while the veggies did their thing in the pot. Then all he would have to do is wait for it to finish while he watched the race. Setting down the bottle he grabbed the spoon, fishing out the last few browned cubes of nerf, then he dumped the veggies in, sc.r.a.p.ing the bottom of the pot when they hit and started to sizzle. Turning down the heat he picked up his bottle and headed to the 'fresher.

 

Shedding clothes as he walked he set his ale down in the 'fresher on the sink, then moved into their bedroom. Grabbing grey fatigues he returned to the 'fresher and turned the shower on. Almost instantly hot steam began to form in the stall. He grinned he loved this place, hot water instantly and it rarely ran out. After taking another pull off his bottle he slipped into the shower stall and quickly wet his fur down. As much as he would love to take a long soak, he didn't dare. Last thing he wanted to do was burn his dinner and have to start anything over again.

 

In record time he was washed, shampooed and rinsed. Stepping out of the 'fresher onto the thick plush burgundy bathmat, he palmed the wall switch to activate the huge drying vents Kit had installed. Warm air blew against his wet fur, as he slowly turned, arms raised, he caught the smell of the veggies. “Oh crud,” he muttered palming the switch. Grabbing a hanging towel he wrapped it around his waist and hurried into the kitchen.

 

To his relief the veggies were fine, just a little browned. Clawing open the bottle sitting on the counter he poured in about half the ale, stirring the veggies he added the waiting stock and unceremoniously dumped in the browned nerf. Plopping the lid onto the pot he took a pull off the bottle, he frowned, it was to warm. Shaking his head, scowling at the offending bottle he headed back to the refresher to get dressed when he heard a noise. Pausing he tilted his head. No one was expected at their apartment. Setting the bottle down on a hallway table he quietly opened the drawer and pulled out a blaster.

 

Stepping towards the door, both hands on the blaster he paused, listening. Someone or something was definitely attempting to use the numpad to open the door.

 

Easing the safety off, his finger hovered over the trigger. The rustling stopped, followed by muffled cursing. He strained to listen; the owner of the voice was unidentifiable. Taking a half step he brought the blaster shoulder level, the sight trained on the door. The muttered cursing grew louder, there was a loud thump and the door slid open. Finger hovering, he waited to see just who was stupid enough to break into a Sith's apartment.

 

Moments later a dark robed figure, clutching the wall and bent over, stumbled across the threshold. An all to familiar sent filled his sinuses. Eyes wide he pushed the safety switch and dropped the blaster on the table. He scrambled to her side as she stumbled to the floor grabbing her side. “Bloody Hell woman!” he growled. “What happened to you?” Aric grabbed her as her arm slipped, catching her before she fell onto the floor.

 

“I had a little disagreement. I will be fine.” Her speech was slurred. Growling he grabbed her cowl and pulled it off her head. The growl deepened as his fingers hovered over her face.

 

“Disagreement?” he rumbled. He pulled his lips away from his fangs as he stared. Gently he touched her head, dried clotted blood covered the right side of her face; it was matted in her hair, covering her ear. Her eye was swollen nearly shut, her eyebrow and temple gouged. Swallowing back his anger he felt the left side of her head. He didn’t feel any trauma, pulling his eyes away from her battered head he looked at the rest of her. Her armor was scorched, crossed with burned marks. Her robes were singed; her left gauntlet was missing. Gritting his teeth he picked up her left hand. Cautiously moving it testing the motion of her fingers and wrist. What in the nine hells had she been doing and why was she here? The med bay onboard the Chimera was adequate. Why was she here... unless she was hurt on this moon, that this was the closest place that was safe.

 

His stomach churned as icy fingers crawled up his back, what if they were following her? Taking a deep breath he slid his arm under her. Shifting her weight in his arms, he pulled her against his chest and with a grunt he stood. When he shifted her in his arms as she grit her teeth whimpering. “It's alright, I got you, lets get you to the bed. I’ll get you patched up.”

 

She looked up at him, offering him a weak smile. “I am so glad you are here, I was not expecting you to be here.”

 

He looked down at the battered Sith in his arms, “I wasn’t supposed to be, unexpected leave for two days.”

 

“Oh good,” she rolled her head against his chest, “the Force was with me tonight.”

 

He stopped his eyes from rolling, now was not the time, he needed to get her out of that armor and patched up. “Guess so,” he tucked her close and started to move as quickly as possible down the hall to their bedroom. Moving to the bed he slowly bent over, trying to lay her down as gently as possible. “I will be right back, I need to get that door locked.”

 

She nodded as she closed her eye.

 

Running down the hallway he grabbed the blaster and paused by the doorway. Head tilted back he smelled trying to detect any unknown odors, none came to him, everything smelled... normal. Slowly he padded closer to the open door listening there was absolute silence. Not wanting to risk drawing attention by looking in the hallway he palmed the numpad, clawing the entry code. When he heard the thunks of the bolts sliding home, he scanned the hall for his discarded pants. Grabbing them he fished his com out of his pocket and headed to the kitchen.

 

Clawed fingertips flew, moments later a Twi'lek's blued form flickered into view. “Jy’lith I need kolto, medical strips, all of it. Kit she is hurt, keep an eye out for strangers, do not let anyone up to the apartments.”

 

Jy’lith nodded, “I will be up momentarily,” and his blued form cut out.

 

Running back to the bedroom he hastily pulled his pants on before he knelt next to the bed, setting the blaster on the nightstand. She didn't even acknowledge his presence. He swallowed his aggravation, in the shape she was in, last thing he wanted to do was agitate her further. Clawed fingertips loosened the buckled plates on her legs with a well-practiced efficiency. Gently easing the armor off he placed it on the floor. Her heavy boots quickly followed. He frowned staring at her chestplate, scorch marks marred the front and left side, the side she was still holding. Gently he moved her hand away and placed it on the bed, swallowing a hiss. The left side was dented, badly. It looked as if she had tried to stop a tram.

 

A click and hiss echoed down the hall, tearing his eyes off his Sith he looked down the long corridor. A lean lanky silhouette appeared pausing to close the door. The crimson skinned Twi'lek hurried down the hallway.

 

“What happened to her?”

 

Aric shook his head, “Not sure, looks like it was another Force user, probably a Jedi, Sith don't tend to leave people breathing.”

 

Jy’lith set the small leather bag he was holding on the floor, “unless it's our Sith.” He tossed his lekku behind his shoulders as he bent to open the bag, setting various instruments on the bed. He pulled out a diagnostic scanner, the green light slowly traced Kit's body from foot to head and back again. The machine protested when the scan was completed. The Twi'lek set the scanner down and gestured towards her. “Would you mind removing that for me?”

 

Aric nodded, moving to unbuckle her chestplate. Quickly he unlatched the armor frowning as he removed it, his hand running along the massive dent. She was going to be furious when she saw it, he had learned that the armor she wore was not durasteel, but beskar, gifted to her by her Mando father-in-law. She was going to have to return to them to have it repaired. Shaking his head he set it on the ground next to the rest of her gear.

 

The Twi'lek was still digging through the bag placing items on the bed. “Can you please disarm her? I am not comfortable holding that thing.”

 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, he moved her robe away from her right hip and hissed.

 

“What is it?” Jy’lith looked up.

 

“It's not here.”

 

“What?”

 

“It's not, she carries it on her right hip, since she is left handed. She didn't have it in hand when she came in.”

 

She moved on the bed coughing, “I have to make another one.”

 

“What?” The two men said in unison.

 

She moved her head, “Damn Jedi was persistent, fought dirty too when she realized she was not going to win.” Kit coughed bringing her hand to her temple, grunting when she touched the laceration above her eye. “She threw shipping containers at me and part of a building.” She brought her bloodied fingertips in front of her face and frowned. “Damn her, if it wasn't for her master she would have been a smear on the duracrete.”

 

“Her master? Were they both fighting you?” Aric moved closer to the head of the bed, brushing her hair out of her face.

 

“No, just her, I bested her three times, she was determined to win.” She rubbed her fingers together before wiping them off on her tattered robe. “Because I didn't kill her after I defeated her the first time, she started spouting nonsense about redemption and the Light Side. The fool would not shut up about it, seriously thought about killing her so I would not have to listen to it anymore.”

 

Aric and Jy’lith just looked at each other. The Twi'lek just shrugged brows raised, before resuming to dig in the bag.

 

“What?” Aric shook his head, “I don't understand, why? What was she trying to accomplish?”

 

She shook her head resting her hand on her stomach. “Apparently if you are not foaming at the mouth, you secretly wish to be 'brought to the Light Side',” she rolled her eye. “It really does not help that I know her master, Master Timmns. We helped each other once, parted on good terms.” Kit moved her head to look at Aric, “she seemed to think that if she was able to convince me to go with her, that the Council would finally make her a master, that Timmns would finally have to acknowledge her as being worthy, seems they keep refusing the ambitious cur. She kept telling me about the redeeming qualities of the Light, I mostly tuned her out, like I want to live an emotionally suppressed, celibate life with no holdings or attachments.” She sighed.

 

“What, she was going to bring you in like some prize?” Aric forced his hands to remain relaxed, to bury his anger, he wasn't going to do a thing to get her upset.

 

“Apparently that is what she thought yes, when that idea failed she changed tactics, she decided to try to kill me instead, she threw the demolished section of wall at me she immediately threw a huge burning barrel at me. I am many things, but fireproof is not one of them, when I was trying to get out of the way she stole my damn hilt. Then she ran away, jumped off the building onto a passing speeder.”

 

“Was she hurt?”

 

“Like me,” Kit gestured at her torso, “neither of us landed significant blows, I was trying to not kill or maim her, but next time I’ll just send Timmns a nice 'my condolences' message. I'm not going to duel her again for three hours.”

 

Aric moved closer, his hands fidgeting with her robe, “Do you know her name?”

 

“Yes, Sar, she identified herself as Knight Sar, don't know her full name.” Her eyebrow arched. “Why are you asking?”

 

“Just wanted to know her name in case I ever run across her.”

 

She stared at him a moment, before nodding and closing her eye.

 

Besides him Jy’lith cleared his throat. “Aric I’m going to need you to go and get a bag of peas.”

 

“Peas? What do you need peas for?”

 

“I don't, I need you to stop hovering, so go get some peas and put them in the stew.” Jy’lith looked at him expectantly, when Aric didn't move, he tilted his head down the hallway. “Go on, get out of my way.” Scowling Aric stood, letting go of Kit's robe.

 

As he stalked down the hall he silently fumed, how dare that self important Jedi try to take his mate away, did the thought ever occur, even once, that the Sith they wanted to redeem might not want it, might have families. Probably not, considering Jedi preached against it. Opening the freezer he grabbed the bag of frozen peas. Heading to the stove, he pulled the lid off; it clattered to the stovetop. Pouring in what looked like a couple handfuls he stirred the pot, dropping the spoon onto the counter. She should of just killed the fool, would of been easier. Heading back to the freezer he shoved the bag into a drawer, slamming the door shut.

 

He stopped short looking up, if she was in the same state as Kit, it would be easier to kill her. He glanced back in the direction of their bedroom. Moving to her bookshelf, he opened a hidden drawer pulling out a sleek silver com. He had never actually abused his position as her husband; well, he thought as he slipped down the hall into her library, there is a first time for everything.

 

~*~*~

 

The walk through the Mezenti Spaceport was scarily incident free; he decided dwelling on it was not the best idea. He simply nodded to the faces he recognized, smiled to the customs agent he was very familiar with and walked as quickly as allowable. He slipped into the elevator to take him to the Besh level, twenty-four would be five down from where the Chimera was currently docked. His footsteps hurried past sixteen's closed hanger door, thankful that none of the crew was around at this hour.

 

He slowed when he approached twenty-four, he was expecting resistance; instead he was greeted by Vector. “This way please,” the Joiner motioned into the bay through a small service door.

 

Aric nodded and stepped past him into the dimly lit bay. A long low appreciative whistle filled the dormant hanger. The ship slumbering before him was beautiful, its metallic mirror like surface reflected everything around it, even amplifying the low lighting. Its sleek lines were downright seductive. The ship looked more like a yacht than the lethal fighter he knew it to be. He turned to Vector, “Now that is a ship. How does it fly?”

 

Behind him he detected a slight floral perfume before she spoke, “It's amazing, but I am afraid this is as close as you are getting tonight.”

 

Aric turned to smile at the Chiss, “Agent, I do appreciate you helping me.”

 

When he spoke her eyebrow shot up.

 

“Right, I appreciate you doing this even though you believe it is a horrible idea.”

 

At his words her eyebrow dropped. She reached out her hand, palm up.

 

“Yeah my chrono,” he unclasped his watch, setting it in her waiting hand.

 

She flipped the wrist-chrono over, producing a small hydrospanner. One flaming eye squinted as she concentrated; a bare slip of her pink tongue visible against the midnight blue of her skin. Vector moved to stand next to her, a metallic case in his hand. She eased the back off the watch, slowly extracting two of the three sleep darts inside the watch. Reaching over she took one of the darts out of the compartment, she held up the dart. The liquid within was inky black, it didn't flow, it seemed to slither inside the transpristeel vial, possessing a thick oil-like texture that seemed to devour any light that fell upon it, he shivered, it was as if the Void was made material and it was inside that dart. “Do not let our Lord touch these. Ever. If for some reason you have to use two and its still not affective, the remaining sleep dart should,” she looked up at him eyes narrowed, “should be effective, rendering the target immobile.”

 

He nodded, “Understood. I do not plan on touching them, ever.”

 

The Agent slid one black dart into the watch's case, “Each dart has its own trigger word?”

 

“Yes, thought it the safest way to set it up,” he watched as she slid the last dart into the watch and replaced and tightened the back. She handed the chrono back to him. He slipped it over his hand, tightening the clasp, rocking his wrist he encouraged it to rest in its usual location.

 

“Now for the payment.”

 

He nodded, rolling up his sleeve. He watched as her blue fingers parted the fur just below his elbow, her touch surprisingly cool. The needle she produced from the kit on her belt was enormous. Gritting his teeth he stared past her as she wiped a disinfectant against his skin. He jumped when he felt the needle's bite, Stars how he hated needles. Moments later he felt the needle leave, glancing down he watched her slip two large vials of his blood into her medical kit.

 

She reached out placing a small kolto filled bandage on the injection site. He raised an eyebrow when he took a good look at the bandage; it was pink covered with white fluffy jax. She looked at him shaking her head. Vector shrugged his shoulders, “We have a rather... taxing crew member, they thought it would be funny to replace our supplies with colourful jax bandages.”

 

Aric shook his head; at least his shirt would cover it.

 

The Agent stared at him, “You really think you are capable of this?”

 

“Yes I do...” he felt it, the subtle movement on the air, the slight increase in chitinous undertones. Aric dropped to his knee spinning, kicking out with his right leg. As his leg made contact, he pushed through the motion, sending the Joiner's leg away from his body. Grabbing his foot Aric stood, yanking hard pulling his foot upward as he kicked Vector's other leg. Vector jumped, kicking his foot free. Aric ducked to avoid the Joiner's staff as it flew at his head.

 

Growling Aric watched his swing, when Vector dropped a hand off his staff Aric slipped within Vector's reach. Vector reached out grabbing the Cathar with his free hand. Aric grinned, he grabbed Vector's weapon hand in his left hand as he punched the Joiner square in his solar plexus. Momentarily stunned and gasping for breath the Joiner's grip on his weapon lessened. Aric turned pressing his lower back and hip against Vector; grabbing Vector’s arm and staff Aric bent his knees as his muscle memory took over. Vector sailed over Aric's shoulder landing in a huff on the hanger floor. Aric still holding the Joiner's electrostaff, placed the end of it against Vector's throat.

 

Eyes narrowed he stared at the Agent. She stared back, a slight smile on her lips. “Apparently you are.” She glanced down at Vector. Aric frowned but removed the weapon, giving the Joiner enough room to stand. Vector held out his hand silently asking for his staff. Aric handed it to him, stepping a half step away from the Imperials.

The Agent pulled up a holographic projection. “This is the target, Human female, very arrogant and prideful, two traits easily exploitable, play to them. She is supposed to be quite attractive, has a known vice for exotic flesh.”

 

“Just how exotic?” He leaned in studying the images before him, she was young, dark hair, light eyes, the exact colour hard to discern on the projection. She barely looked old enough to be allowed out at night, how did that slip of a girl hold her own against Kit? When the agent didn't answer him, he looked back at her.

 

She just looked at him letting her eyes slowly drag over him from head to toe, when her eyes returned to his face she arched her brow.

 

“Right, makes it easier if we are alone anyway,” Aric muttered.

 

The Agent actually smiled. “Might be hope for you yet.”

 

He frowned returning to the display. “Where is she?”

 

Reaching out she touched the projected screen, rapidly scrolling through the target's images, building blueprints, medical charts, and other data he was not able to discern before stopping on a shadowed shot of a building front. The glowing sign proudly declaring the nondescript building as the home of Euphoria's Edge. He frowned, knowing the cantina by reputation. It was located on the edge of the Red Light District; pretending to be an upstanding establishment, touting an extensive and exotic liquor selection. It was just as seedy as the rest of the District; it just had a better-maintained facade. The cantina was renowned for being able to supply a good time, if you wanted something that wasn’t on the menu, the staff would procure it for you. “I have to go there?”

 

“Yes, she is known to frequent this establishment, recon has already reported her arrival roughly thirty minutes ago.”

 

“She still there?”

 

“She is, the entire building is under surveillance. Her status has not changed.”

 

He raised his brow, “the entire building?” He was not sure he liked that.

 

“Yes, so put on a good show, I don't want to get bored.”

 

Aric swallowed back his nasty retort, if she was watching he had a better chance of walking away if things went wrong. “Extraction point?”

 

Her hand moved again, bringing up the image of a rundown factory. “Rooftop extraction in worse case scenario only. Two blocks to the south.” Her blue fingers moved, a map appeared, she tapped it enlarging it, fingertips marking the cantina and factory, causing them to glow on the projection screen.

 

He studied the image. “Appears to be a relatively straight shot, faster across the roofs,” he pointed at the projection, “looks like an abandoned taxi pad and a sky bridge.”

 

“Correct,” her hand moved pulling up another image, an exterior shot of the cantina. “This is the alley directly across the cantina to the East. Here,” blue fingertips dragged across the projection, enlarging the shadowed image. “Old scaffolding that was erected when the building behind the cantina was being rehabbed. When a territory war between two Hutts resulted in the owner's death, the project was abandoned. It should still support a humanoid, but; move fast.”

 

He heard a slight chuckle. “Com channel?” He decided it best to just ignore her; she was either baiting him or she really did find the prospect of the scaffolding collapsing around him funny. When she did not answer right away he pulled his gaze off the projected screen. She appeared to be thinking. Wonderful, no way that was going to bode well.

 

“Besh Zerek Isk eight-oh-eight.” She reached up tapping the dark blue comlink in her ear.

 

“Your personal com, I feel special,” giving her a toothy grin. He swore she rolled her eyes but it was hard to tell. “No further communication if things go well?”

 

She shook her head, “Upon mission completion, contact me with your status, if no further assistance is needed we are finished and the surveillance footage will be taken care of. Remember disagreements between Force users are overlooked on this moon. Keep up appearances; it makes my job easier.”

 

He nodded looking over the projected data one last time.

 

“Why are you doing this?”

 

Aric stared the Chiss Agent in the eye. “She tried to take Kit from me. When she could not convince her to willingly leave, this arrogant whelp tried to force her to leave, when she failed at that she attempted to kill my mate. This girl is too driven to stop, she sees Kit as a way to further her own career, seeing only Kit's titles and standing within the Empire, she does not care about my mate as a person.”

 

“Right now she is weak, beaten and bloodied. Kit is physically drained, has multiple hairline fractures, countless bruises.... this Jedi,” he flung his hand at her floating image, “is in the same shape. She is probably in worse shape, Kit defeated her three times, they dueled for hours. And where is she now? In a cantina celebrating, I doubt she has even bothered to see a medic, why would she, she thinks she has won, that she has beaten the Wrath,” Aric snarled.

 

“I spend enough time looking over my shoulder, this is a distraction neither of us need. Force users discount us normal people constantly; I am going to use that arrogance against this one, to finish this before it gets out of hand.”

 

He looked from the Agent to Vector and back again. “Would you do any less, to protect what is yours? To protect your mate, Agent?”

 

The Chiss' jaw momentarily tightened. “No,” she bit.

 

The Cathar smiled, “We have more in common than you think.” He nodded to the pair and turned to leave the hanger. As he crossed into the outside corridor he heard her.

 

“Don't die, I don't need the headache of that paperwork.”

 

Aric didn't bother to look back; he knew she would be gone. Vanished into the shadows of the slumbering hanger bay. It was the closest thing he was going to get to a 'good luck' from her. Allowing himself a small smile, he hurried down the enormous hall, now for the hard part.

 

~*~

 

He hated to admit it but the cantina was a really nice place, though he was not sure he would classify it as a cantina. Spacious seating, atmospheric mood, enhanced by glowing sconces strategically placed to illuminate the main thoroughfares leaving multiple booths and tables along the far walls shrouded in shadows. Before him plush couches and tables lay in random groupings, a huge carved wooden bar sat in the middle of the floor. Aric took a moment to slowly scan the crowd, mentally noting the location of every Human, humanoid and alien in the room, he realized on his second pass that there was not a single dancer, real or holographic in the spacious front room.

 

As his eyes scanned the room, he noted the three distance lifts nestled against the North wall, he silently cursed himself, he should of studied the building’s layout better. Oh well, nothing he could do about it now. Pulling his hands out of his leatheris jacket he watched the crowd as he moved to the bar, picking a spot near the bartender, a rather robust balding Human. Tilting his head in greeting he dropped a Republic credit chip on the counter, “Ne'tra Gal.” The bartender picked up the chip nodding as he moved to fill the order

 

Resting his elbows on the counter Aric hunched over slightly as he looked around the room again. In the shadows flanking the bar a small metallic glint caught his eye. As he turned his head slightly to get a better look, he realized he had found a dancer. Exiting a shadowed alcove a dark blue Twi'lek male was leading a Human couple towards a secluded corner, as the dancer opened an unseen door he stepped aside letting the man and woman pass, he looked over his shoulder across the bar. The Twi'lek held up his hand gesturing. Aric's eyes scanned the room, finding the person the dancer was communicating with. A massive Nitko was leaning against the wall by one of the lifts; the Nitko lifted up his chin then flashed two fingers then one finger to the Twi'lek. Nodding the dancer moved into the room closing the door. Aric had to give the designer some credit, whoever had laid this place out was pretty clever, the entire place was inviting and private, with some serious security hidden in plain sight.

 

There, he saw a woman matching the description the Agent provided. Stars the girl was small, dressed in a simple but well made low-cut tunic, the milky material highlighting her toffee coloured skin tone. She was sitting in a shadowed booth to his right, leaning over talking in a rather hushed conspiratorial tone to an ivory skinned Zabrak. She leaned over kissing him on the cheek. The man scooted out of the booth and winked at the Jedi before he turned and walked out of the cantina, gracefully maneuvering around the other patrons. Aric let his gaze wander, looking at the countless colourful and distinctive liquor bottles that graced the multiple shelves above the bar.

 

The bartender returned with his ale, setting it gently down in front of him. Aric thanked the man, picking up his ale he took a sip as he returned to studying the extensive bottle collection. It didn’t take long before he felt eyes watching him. Taking another drink he glanced over his shoulder at the Jedi's booth. She was reclining back in the booth, arm draped over the back, watching him over her drink. Keeping all sarcastic thoughts buried deep he gave her a large smile before returning his attention elsewhere.

 

He felt a slight tickle at the base of his skull a brushing against his mind. He ignored it, studying a rather aged and beautiful amber glass bottle that housed a dark cherry amber liquid, the label proclaimed it to be a single-cask Correlian Whisky, bottled at cask strength, aged to a very mature thirty years, produced by the Crillan Distillery; perfection in a bottle. Perhaps when he was finished he would indulge in a celebratory drink.

 

Moments later he felt those eyes again and his ale glass slid a couple centimeters away from his hand. The tickle in the back of his mind grew more persistent. Brow raised he looked back at the girl. She took a drink of the blue liquid in her glass and scooted over slightly in her seat. Her hand tapped the cushion next to her as his glass slid further away from him.

 

Slowly he sauntered over to her booth, pausing he stood looking down at her. Stars she really was a pretty girl, her eyes were so light they were almost the colour of ice, her ebony hair cascaded down her back brushing the seat it was so long. She once again patted the booth seat, smiling, “Evening.”

 

“I have to say that is the most unique way someone has gotten my attention before.” He set his glass down on the table sliding into the booth next to her.

 

Her grin just widened.

 

“And I was about to leave too, after I finished my ale. Everyone here seems to be with a date, and,” he scanned the room one last time, “I do appear to be the only Cathar here.”

 

“Ohh,” she pouted, “well I’m glad I decided to invite you over then, would hate to have someone like you all alone on a lovely night like this.”

 

“Well,” he smiled, “I’m not alone now, but I thought you had company. I noticed you were with a gentlemen when I walked in.”

 

She took a sip of her drink, “were you watching me?”

 

“Well,” he admitted, “you are very hard to miss.”

 

“So you were,” she reached up tucking her long black hair behind her ear. Smiling she leaned over her hand brushing Aric's. “Don't worry about the Zabrak, he is just a business associate of mine.”

 

“He left you in here all alone?”

 

“I’m not alone now,” her hand softly caressed the fur on the back of his hand. Aric had to force his hand to still, to keep his claws retracted.

 

“No,” he smiled, “your not.” Taking another drink off his ale he chastised himself, you can do this. “So what makes this night so lovely?”

 

“Oh,” she smiled, “I’m throwing myself a little victory party.”

 

“A party? Is your business associate going to return then?”

 

“No, he's not, he was just confirming a little errand I needed him to run for me.”

 

Aric took another drink, “What are you celebrating? You said it was a victory party what did you win?”

 

“Oh,” she purred taking another sip off her blue concoction, “it was just a little fight. My Master is going to be very proud of me.”

 

“Your Master,” Aric faked confusion. “What Master?”

 

She shrugged her shoulders, “The Jedi Master kind. I did something that is going to finally get me my Master robes.”

 

Aric's eyes grew wide, “Your a Jedi, oh,” he fumbled a bit moving her hand. “I shouldn't I mean we shouldn't, it's not what...” he scooted away from her in the booth.

 

She laughed, “I am not that kind of Jedi, not all of us are uptight sticks in the mud, this is perfectly fine.” Again he felt that tickle, her hand moved oh so slightly. “This is absolutely fine, it does not matter that I am a Jedi.”

 

Keeping his temper in check, pushing down his growing anger and resentment he instead thought of her beauty and did exactly what she wanted, he repeated those words. “Absolutely fine, it does not matter”.

 

“So,” her hand returned to his arm, playing with the fur along his wrist, “what is that you are drinking?”

 

He picked up the half full glass taking another drink of the thick black beer, “It's called Ne'tra Gal.”

 

“Ne'tra Gal, I have never heard of it, what is it.”

 

“Mandos like to drink it, its pretty good.”

 

“Oh, Mandos how did you come to start drinking it? Do you know any Mandalorians?”

 

He nodded, “I do, fought alongside some once, fought against them countless times. Their food is really spicy and their beer is excellent.”

 

She leaned closer, “Why were you fighting them, are you a mercenary?”

 

The glint in her eye disturbed him; it unsettled him. “No,” he shook his head, “SpecForces actually.”

 

“Oh exciting, what kind of Special Forces?” she took another sip of her drink, eyes locked onto his as she slid closer to him.

 

“The best of the best,” he grinned. Leaning down he whispered in her ear, “Part of the Republic's finest, I am in Havoc.”

 

“Really?” her eyebrows arched. “I always wanted a SpecForce boy.”

 

He felt that damn tickle again, suppressing his anger he turned his head towards her, he knew how to play this game. He was taught by one of the best, and Jedi never looked deep enough, “What makes you think you are going to get one?”

 

“Oh,” she grinned, the grin made his stomach churn, “I always get what I want.” Her fingers moved as the pressure in his head grew. “And tonight I want a SpecForce boy.”

 

“Tonight you will get one.”

 

Her eyebrow arched slightly when he didn’t respond properly to the Persuade. He instantly closed the distance kissing her, gently nipping her lower lip before withdrawing. She smiled leaning closer her legs brushing up against his; her hand ran along his chest hitting his piercing. He jumped under her hand as he unconsciously groaned.

 

She grinned white teeth flashing, “Oh what do we have here?” Her fingers grabbed for his shirt buttons, he allowed her to get the first three undone before he grabbed her hands.

 

Pulling her closer he breathed into her ear, “You don't get me here.” He nuzzled her neck nipping. Her foreign perfume filled his nose, he had to force himself to breathe it in and not snort it out of his sinuses.

 

“Then lets get out of here, I have my room upstairs.” Her hands released his shirt and she moved away from his lap. He picked up his mug watching her as she slid out of the booth. Aric stood, moving to stand next to her, she barely came to his chest. “This way,” she whispered pulling him to the closest lift.

 

She slid against him in the lift her fingers working to undo the rest of the buttons. When the last button was undone, she grabbed his shirt yanking it out of his slacks. Her fingers ran through his tawny chest fur tracing his abdominals. Slowly they worked their way up caressing; when the lift came to a stop chiming and the doors opened she frowned cussing under her breath. Grabbing his hand she led him out into the hall.

 

“So which one is yours?” Aric eyed the corridor, it was dimly lit, the doors staggered down the hall.

 

Leading him to the door closest to the lift she waved her hand, the door obediently opened allowing them admittance into the darkened room beyond. He allowed her to pull him into the room; she wiggled her fingers the lights activated, casting a soft light within.

 

The room was sparsely but elegantly decorated, an ornately carved table and chair along the side wall, a comfortable looking bed along the far wall. He smiled when he saw the spacious transpristeel window; that will make things so much easier. Underneath the expansive window a couch and a chaise lounge sat along either side of a carved wooden table. Slowly he moved into the room, pausing to set his mug on the nearby table while absorbing all of the room's details; ignoring her as she moved behind him locking the door. Along the far wall beyond the window and the sitting area was a floor to ceiling bookshelf. As he walked closer to the bookshelf he noted the lack of any suitcases, but the room smelled of her, apparently this was her home away from home, if he opened the drawers he would find her personal effects tucked away.

 

She walked up beside him as he stopped before the shelves. Her hands clasped his shoulders; they tugged on his jacket. Aric rolled his shoulders, assisting her in removing the garment without removing his eyes from object his eyes had locked upon. Sitting in the center of the bookshelf, raised on a small dais and backlit was a long sleek silver saber hilt. The handle gracefully curved so when one held it the hilt's end would point downward. He leaned forward ever so slightly examining the hilt; the achingly familiar engraved image of a sun complete with radiating rays of light that flowed in curving lines along the hilt stared back at him. He knew when he hit the activation switch a cyan blade would blaze forth as it hummed its tenor pitched song in his hand.

 

Her hands pulled against his shirt, yanking it out of his pants. Her fingers ran along his backfur. Aric forced himself to lean into her caress as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath centering himself. “You have a rather beautiful saber, must be rather proud of your weapon to keep it displayed like that.”

 

“Oh,” she mumbled from behind him, her fingers pulling backward on his shirt. “That is not mine, that is my trophy, the proof of my deeds.”

 

“What deeds?” he looked over his shoulder at her, subtly moving his hand up, catching his falling shirt as it pooled on his elbow.

 

“The deed that will finally get me what I deserve. That is the weapon of a nasty Sith, known as the Emperor's Wrath, she even holds a seat on the Dark Council and I defeated her. Her saber is proof.”

 

“Really?” he turned towards her slightly. “Can I touch it? A Sith's saber, pretty impressive trophy.”

 

“Sure you can, but it's not hers. She was wielding it but it in all likelihood its a weapon she stole off a dead Jedi.” She slipped her small form around him, reaching out to grab the saber hilt. She turned, brushing her body up against his as she placed the hilt in his outstretched right hand.

 

He slowly rotated the weapon in his hand, the heft was the same, it had not been tampered with so it should still be in working order. “It is lovely.” He shifted the hilt in his hand, sliding it into a more secure position in his hand.

 

“Oh careful with that, can't have you activating it.” She reached to retrieve it.

 

He jerked his hand out of her reach smiling, “I will be careful, promise, I know it is a sensitive thing, just let me look at it a bit longer.” He ran his left hand along the small of her back caressing her slender waist.

 

“Alright,” she leaned against him her hands running through his tawny chestfur. Picking up the small oval plate of his dog tags she ran her thumb along the raised text. “Captain Aric Jorgan, ohh I managed to find myself a Captain.” Releasing the tags her hands resumed running along his chest. They found the golden glint and reached out touching it. “Oh, you have piercings, you're a bad SpecForce boy aren't you?”

 

He chuckled low in his throat, “You have no idea.”

 

She purred as she pressed herself against him, her hands busy playing with the aurodium barbell. “I like the bad boys.”

 

He ran his left hand slowly up her back, “Do you now? Somehow that does not surprise me.” He managed to stifle most the unconscious moans and groans his body was insistent upon making.

 

“Do you have any others?”

 

“I do, just my ears, nothing overly exciting I’m afraid.” He slid his hand over her shoulder resting his wrist along her neck. “Would you like to see?”

 

“I do,” her voice dropped, as her hand moved up along his neck.

 

He moved his head to the right presenting her with his left ear. He felt her tense beneath his hand, as her breath slightly caught in her throat. Her questioning fingers reached up brushing the Sith made jewelry; a sharp intake of air as she touched the aurodium earnings hanging off the lightly furred edge of his ear. Her body tensed further, muscles coiling under his fingertips.

 

Her words were so soft they were almost inaudible, “How.... why do you have...” she stared at him.

 

He grinned as his clawed fingertips dug into her shoulder. “Asha,” he snarled as a dart shot out of his chrono and embedded into her neck.

 

She yelped pushing away from him, her hand reached up grabbing at her neck while the other reached for her saber. A pained cry escaped her lips and she flung her hand outward towards Aric, he was picked up off the ground and flung against the far wall. When he landed he shed his shirt adjusting his grip on the saber hilt. The Jedi was still standing there holding her neck. Slowly he walked forward, giving the dart time to do its job.

 

She pulled the dart out of her neck, whimpering. As Aric advanced he could already see the beads of sweat forming on her skin. He glanced at the dart in her hand; the vial was completely empty the inky substance was gone, injected into the Jedi.

 

She took a staggering step towards him, “What was that?”

 

He smiled, his first genuine one of the evening. “A little something to level the playing field.” Aric continued forward, gradually closing the distance between them, one measured footstep at a time.

 

“You know there was a time I might have agreed with you, might of actually condemned you for failing and then not killing her.” He shook his head. “Then I learned a few things, that the good guys sometimes wear black.” He casually played with the saber hilt in his hand. “Sometimes they are really good, worth defending until your dying breath.” He held up the saber hilt. “Do you have any idea the lengths I have gone to make sure she is never without her weapon? Did you ever stop to think about her, her life, or is she simply a tamed rabid akk dog to be paraded around?”

 

The Jedi staggered another step forward bringing up her saber. She ignited it with a snap hiss of emerald light. “Who are you, why are you here?” She managed to take another step forward, her saber arm shaking as she held her weapon up. “What do you want?” Her voice was starting to waver, strained from the pain.

 

He shrugged, “You read who I am, as for why I’m here. I am settling my Mate's little disagreement.”

 

Her sweat-covered brow furrowed, her beautiful features contorted. “Your mate...” Her eyes grew wide, “Your ear, those earrings they...” She stopped her shambling advance, her face screwed up in a look of utter disgust, “your mate is the Wrath?” She nearly spit the title.

 

“You say that as if that is a bad thing.” He took another casual step towards her listing form. “She made them, we exchanged them nearly a year ago. But you don't care, for you she is the means to an end.” He took another step closer and his thin lips parted in a feral smile, Aric watched as the Jedi raised her shaking hand higher, spread her fingers and nothing happened.

 

“What...” she stared at her hand, disbelief dripping from her face. “What did you do?”

 

Smiling he advanced as she staggered, fighting to remain upright. “It was just a little dart, filled with terentatek venom. Nasty stuff, then again they are nasty creatures. You know how difficult they are to kill? Hide resistant to Force attacks, and blaster bolts and grav rounds... They thrive off the Dark Side. You know if you are unfortunate enough to be exposed to a large quantity of their venom, it makes it very hard, damn near impossible to actually use the Force.”

 

He stopped just out of her weapons reach. “I researched them after I killed one, horrible fight, I don't recommend it.” Aric stared her in the eyes, watching those pale silvery blue orbs clouded over with pain. “You ambitious cur, do you not realize that she is your Master's friend. Does that mean nothing to you, did you even think about it? Did you really think he would be proud of you?”

 

“You know nothing, you filthy traitor. Nothing. You have no idea how things work within the Order!” Her ragged voice was screaming.

 

“No,” he shook his head, “I do, I know all to well.” He adjusted his grip on his mate's saber. “I also know a secret that you will soon learn the truth of.” Aric lunged at her pushing her saber arm wide. He brought his arm down against the inside of her wrist. Her weakened muscles were unable to maintain her grip and the blade was silenced as it fell to the carpet. He reached out grabbing her shoulder in his left hand. Aric pulled her closer as he felt her arms twitch as she tried to unsuccessfully call upon the Force. “Would you like to know what it is?” She glared at him, her mouth quivering, as her body shuddered underneath his hand. “I know the one thing the dead can agree on,” he shoved the hilt against her chest, “that it is better to be alive.” Aric thumbed the switch, in a single breath the saber blazed to life ending the Jedi's existence on this plane. “I hope you enjoy the Void.”

 

He deactivated the saber letting her body hit the floor. Walking back towards the shelves he picked up his shirt and put it back on quickly buttoning it. Scanning the room he found his leatheris jacket lying on the bed. Shrugging it on he turned to survey the room. One needed to keep up appearances. Walking to the huge window he reactivated the saber; he sliced through the transpristeel. To his surprise it cracked and exploded when the blade sliced through, the window was actually made of glass. Even better. Deactivating the saber he slipped it inside the interior pocket of his jacket. Picking up his mug off the table he walked to the door, unlocked it, slipped out of the room and locked it.

 

As he was headed towards the cantina's exit he stopped, moving instead towards the bar. He leaned against the bar waiting. Within moments the bartender ambled up to him, looking at him expectantly. Aric nodded overhead towards the bottle of whisky, “How much?”

 

“Eight.” The bartender answered, as he proceeded to wipe the bar down with a plush white towel.

 

Aric nodded and pulled a credit chit out of his pocket; he held it up between his index and middle fingers, the denomination of one thousand clearly seen. “It is truly a shame there were no Cathars in here tonight.”

 

Bartender didn't even look up, “Yeap,” he drawled, “complete shame hav'nt seen one in a few weeks, pity to, they are good tippers.” He turned around gently picking up the bottle and setting it down on the counter.

 

Aric set the credit chit on the bartop as he picked up the bottle. He strolled out the front door he tilted his head back finishing off his ale, his whisky bottle protectively cradled in his arm.

 

~*~

 

Tired he stood in front of his apartment door. Leaning his head against the cool durasteel frame he punched in the entry code, the door retreating with a gentle hiss. Walking into the kitchen he set his bottle on the counter and placed the mug in the sink. He would put them away tomorrow, now he just wanted to sleep. He stripped off his leatheris jacket d****** it over the back of the couch, gently removing her saber hilt from his interior pocket. As he walked, he again shed his clothing, eager to be rid of his day.

 

The call to the Agent had been very brief, a simple confirmation of the completed act. She promised to doctor all footage that showed him in and around the premisses. The journey home was completely uneventful. Now it was time to sleep.

 

He made it to their bedroom as he slipped off the last of his clothes. Quietly he moved to the bed, setting her saber hilt on the nightstand. Kit lay pretty much smack dab in the middle of the mattress, the smell of kolto hung over her like a cloud and he had never been happier to see her. Barely pulling back the covers he slipped in besides her, lying on his side, tucking his hand under the pillows as he cautiously set the other on her stomach. She smiled in her sleep. He relaxed into the bed letting his body drift off to sleep. Tomorrow was a new day, an unexpected day to spend with her and they had one less threat looming over their heads.

 

 

Edited May 30, 2018 by Kitar

[frauzet]

Given Jorgan's reaction to Jonas' flirting ingame I can see it's a bad idea to attack his lifemate.

Will he tell Kit what happened? Will she find out on her own? What will her reaction be? Will there be repercussions for the agent?

Looking forward to find out the answers!

<3

[Kitar]

@ Frauzet

I loved flirting with Jonas in front of Aric.That was part of the basis behind his reaction. I actually had a lot of fun writing this one.

I think I can actually answer your questions too!

Nope he does not tell Kit about it. Tha Agent also never says a word. For her finding out on her own, I'm going to go with it is a possibility. As of right now there are no repercussions for that little 'outing'.

 

<3

 

 

Spoilers:

Use of NPC's from/mentioned in Trooper Act I story.

 

 

CHAPTER 71

 

 

 

Year 3635 end of month 8

 

CORUSCANT

 

Aric stared at his datapad, thumb slowly scrolling through the message. Shaking his head, he began to read the message again.

 

“Sir.” Dorne's quiet voice filtered into the room. He grunted in response, not bothering to look up as he continued to read. She stepped next to him, setting her sidearm on the workbench. “I was wondering if you had a spare moment.”

 

“Yeah,” he grunted, eyes still locked onto the screen.

 

“What are you reading?” Dorne stepped closer.

 

“It is from Senator Krasul's wife, Ondia. She is inviting me to dinner, apparently there is someone they would like me to meet.”

 

“That sounds nice, why do you look so surprised?”

 

He shook his head, “It is dinner and a blind introduction to someone, I think she is trying to set me up.”

 

“Set you up,” a voice snorted. The Major stood outside the weapons locker laughing. She leaned up against the doorframe arms crossed across her chest. “You should take it, I can't imagine there are to many lining up to date your worthless hide.” Shaking her head, she pushed off the doorframe, heading into the conference room, her cruel laughter following her.

 

Aric watched her leave, growling under his breath. Dorne moved next to him, placing her hand gently on his arm. “She doesn't mean that, you're not worthless.”

 

“Yes Elara she does, she has always meant it.” Aric shook his head, “Doesn't matter.” He sighed, “I am still trying to decide how I am going to decline the invitation.”

 

“Why are you going to decline?”

 

Aric snorted, “I am lousy at politics.” He shuddered thinking of all the posturing and maneuvering that he had gotten so adept at avoiding when he was on Alderaan.

 

“How do you know it will be about politics? Maybe they just want to formally thank you.”

 

“Doubt it,” he rolled his eyes. “After all this time? It has been three and a half years. I have not heard a peep out of him, a week or so after the incident on Port Raga I received a message from his wife thanking me for my 'heroic actions',” he made little air quotations. “Nothing I did was heroic, I just did my job.”

 

“Aric?”

 

He raised his brows, his attention drifting back to the datapad in his hand.

 

“How do you know she might be trying to introduce you to someone?”

 

“Just a gut feeling I have, plus she makes no inquiry into the well-being of my significant other so she assumes I don't have one. I am the only one invited, our fearless commander was also there that day, yet she is not included and there is no invitation for me to bring along a guest.”

 

~*~

 

Fidgeting with the blaster holster across his chest Aric shifted in the taxi seat. Damn thing was too big; he couldn’t get it to sit properly. Hell his entire class-A uniform was too big. Getting a new one seemed to be a waste of time and acquisition forms. Scowling he yanked on the chest strap again, trying to force it into submission. He should of ordered a new one; the Senator was probably going to notice.

 

Metallic monotone speech announced the vehicle's pending arrival. Aric grunted in response, dropping his hands. He watched the Senate Tower loom closer as the taxi changed traffic lanes, beginning its slow curving descent to the Plaza's taxi pad. Frowning he watched the building grow, this really was a horrible idea.

 

The taxi came to a smooth stop, lowering itself slightly as it repulsors fired, the vehicle hovered above the metallic grating as the droid announced their arrival at the desired destination. Aric muttered a thank you in response ignoring the droid as it began to give its touristy blip about the Tower and its history. Aric had barely gone a meter when the taxi behind him moved off the pad. He watched as the taxi seamlessly merged with the constant streaming traffic that flowed through the stratosphere, the ever-beating heartbeat of Coruscant, ferrying another customer to an unknown destination.

 

Running his hands over his uniform shirt he moved towards the Tower, forcing his feet to move step by step through the Plaza. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad; maybe she was a good cook. He snorted, she was a Senator's wife, she probably hired a chef to cook everything. Well hopefully the chef had a fondness for Alderaanian cuisine.

 

As he entered the Tower he slipped through the slow moving throng of mingling beings; Senators, Ambassadors, pages and couriers. He quickly navigated the staircase making sure he kept his head down and moved among the ever-shifting crowd. Garza was in the building and considering her love of the Senate he didn't want to risk running into her. He doubted she would be very pleased to learn of him dining with Senator Krasul and his family.

 

He arrived on the Senator's floor without incident; maybe this evening was going to be alright. Knocking on the door, he once again smoothed his uniform before he ran clawed fingertips through his mane. The door slid open, a broad shouldered tawny furred, very annoyed Cathar greeted him. “You're late,” the man scowled.

 

“Late?” Aric snapped his left arm up, turning his wrist to look at his chrono, “five minutes early.”

 

The scowling Cathar sniffed and walked away.

 

Or not, Aric thought as he stared at the unknown man's retreating form. He hated it when his gut feelings were right. Sighing he followed the man deeper into the apartment.

 

The scowling Cathar entered a sitting room of sorts; standing to one side of the door. Aric paused at the threshold looking into the room. Inside was Senator Krasul standing looking out a panoramic window. The view beyond was amazing, the sky painted in waves of blooming violets, blushing reds and majestic oranges across a slowly darkening navy canvass of oceanic proportions; the breathtaking setting of the Coruscanti sun.

 

“Evening Senator, Sir.” Aric said as he stepped into the room, doing his best to ignore the scowling Cathar standing against the wall.

 

“Evening Captain Jorgan.” The Senator turned to greet him. “It has been to long.” He smiled at Aric gesturing to one of the rather stiff-backed overly formal looking couches.

 

Aric moved to the offered seat, carefully watching the Senator, the man was uncharacteristically chipper.

 

“It is good to see you again, I trust you and your family are doing well?”

 

“Yes, yes, quite well thank you,” the Senator moved to sit across from Aric, reclining into the couch his hand casually draped across the wooden arm.

 

Aric sat stiffly as he quietly studied the Cathar before him. Something was going on, but what? The Senator was still dressed in his Senatorial robes even though today’s session had ended hours ago. He glanced at the lurking Cathar by the door. The family resemblance was striking; both were broad of shoulder and tall, typical of so many Cathar men. Both sported thick dark brown manes, the scowling lurker had a thick beard as well. Their fur colouring was identical, common dark ruddy browns with tawny accents and the men's facial markings were identical, a series of dark furred spots that ran along their angular cheekbones and above their eyes.

 

So the lurker was somehow related to the Senator, but he had yet to be introduced, which was odd. Was he a hired family member to help guard the family since the kidnapping? His demeanor didn’t give that thought much credence; he was staring blaster bolts at Aric's head. One would think if the scowling Cathar was relation he would be a bit happier to actually see Aric. Something was definitely going on; Aric's fur flinched as he repressed a shudder.

 

“Oh good, you are here,” a soprano feminine voice filled the room. Aric looked up, standing in another doorway was a pleasantly plump tawny furred Cathar woman. Her amber eyes sparkled as she entered the room, her elaborately embroidered dress skimming the wooden floor. “I am so pleased you were able to attend this evening.”

 

“Yes, we are both pleased,” the Senator smiled as he stood.

 

Aric swore he heard the lurking hulk against the wall growl.

 

“Ahh, it's my pleasure,” Aric mirrored the Senator, standing. He offered his hand to the waiting woman. She smiled extending her hand to him. Aric stopped from clasping her hand in a handshake at the last moment, instead he grasped her fingertips bringing them to his lips, as he bent at the waist, gently kissing her painted claws.

 

“Come this way,” she gestured through the doorway she passed through moments before. “Dinner is ready, I would hate for it to get cold, Kayra worked so hard on it.”

 

Aric suppressed a grin as he ventured into the room. Laid out before him was one of the most ornately set tables he had ever seen, it actually put some of the elaborate spreads House Thul had produced to shame; glittering crystal glasses and decanters filled with vibrant unknown spirits, gilded plates set upon richly dyed and embroidered linens. The heavy floral fragrance of brightly coloured and foreign blooms filled the air. As he took the offered seat a thought crept through his head, before Alderaan withdrew from the Republic in a fit of rage, their Senator was a member of the ruling royal family. Aric wondered if the Krasul's were Cathar royalty.

 

A small framed Cathar girl dressed in a simple but well tailored dress entered. Silently she proceeded to pour a dark blue liquid into the long stemmed glasses. His hosts completely ignored the girl as she moved about the table; instead they picked up their glasses.

 

“My apologies it has taken so long to formally thank you for your actions saving my Mate.” Ondia held up her sparkling flute.

 

“Really, Mrs. Krasul, I was just doing my job defending a citizen of the Republic.” Aric tried to brush off the praise but caught Ondia grinning, flashing her long white teeth as she glanced at her mate.

 

“Nonsense, it was very heroic, to stay and free Zorin when you had so very little time, and to liberate him in such a clever quick thinking manner. You should have been given formal recognition for your bravery.”

 

Aric shook his head, silently refuting her praise, but inside he was smiling, so infrequently he was given praise for any of his actions.

 

She smiled at him, “Please call me Onida, there is no need to be so formal we are all friends.” She made a subtle gesture with her hand. “I had Kayra prepare for us this lovely evening a dinner of Catharian cuisine, starting with cloudberries and aleudrupe berry served along side crispy warka.”

 

Aric watched the serving girl place a delicate plate of assorted berries and small golden friend cylinders of something on the table. Aric wasn't actually familiar with Cathar food, he was studying the plate before him when he realized the girl had served him first.

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

“Oh yes,” he looked to the Senator's mate, “it is great, I just wasn't expecting such an elaborate dinner.”

 

She smiled widely and looked at him expectantly.

 

Aric tentatively reached for the fluted glass of sparkling sapphire wine. As his fingers grasped the delicate stem the Senator and his mate proceeded to eat. Aric took a slow sip off his glass. Something was definitely going on.

 

As the starter plate was finished the girl silently removed his plate and empty glass, placing before him a bowl of creamy white soup topped with crispy fried strips of something. It smelled absolutely delicious. The glass before him was filled with a pale amber liquid, a wine of some kind by the smell. Again he was served first.

 

Ondia smiled, “A lovely wine from the ancient Krrul vineyard, such an impressive sight, vines thicker than your leg climbing up the tree to the city above and it is one of the few to survive the devastation of that horrible war. The bottles from the first year after our planet was reclaimed are some of the most prized. Forgive me I am prattling on, of course you are aware of such things.” She cleared her throat, “The soup is a warmed puree of ganza topped with slivered and fried tuber root.”

 

“It smells wonderful.”

 

She beamed, eyes dancing, “Oh wonderful, when I learned it was one of your favorites, I absolutely knew we had to serve it tonight.”

 

Aric stopped his hand hovering over the table.

 

“Is something the matter?” the Senator asked.

 

“No, not at all,” Aric shook his head. He picked up his spoon, his other hand tightly clenched in his lap. Alarm bells were blaring in the back of his head, something was so very wrong. To his knowledge he had never eaten any Catharian food, his Grandfather refused to have anything to do with their homeworld. Why would she think this was a favorite of his?

 

He dipped the spoon into the bowl; somehow he managed to keep his hand from shaking, as he tasted the soup. It was, to his relief, quite good, warm and creamy with an incredibly smooth mouth texture, it delighted his tastebuds as the oil drizzled across the top of the bowl warmed, teasing his nose with its floral scent. “It is delicious, I think it is the best I have ever eaten.”

 

“Oh good,” she smiled brightly, “I thought for a moment I had made a terrible mistake.”

 

“Not at all, I love it,” he looked from her to the Senator; he seemed to posses the undivided attention of both. “I am flattered you have gone to such lengths.”

 

“Nonsense, it is not everyday you have someone of such standing in your home.”

 

Standing Aric wondered, what standing? He had no standing among their people; his Grandfather never associated with other Cathar, his family was dead. He was just a lowly grunt in the military and soon he would not even be that, his retirement was a mere two months away.

 

If either of his hosts noticed his confusion, neither acknowledged it. Ondia picked up her glass raising it in a silent toast before drinking. Hand slightly shaking Aric picked up his glass joining her in her silent toast.

 

“The next course is even better, it is braised reek with roasted spring vegetables all on a bed of couscous. Served of course in its own tureen.”

 

“Oh it sounds delicious,” Aric took another long drink before picking up his spoon, his hidden hand clenching his leg, as he tried unsuccessfully to still his nerves. “I can't wait.”

 

The rest of the meal progressed the same way, Aric was served first, his glass promptly refilled before his hosts and he was the first to taste every course, neither the Senator nor his wife eating until he gave his approval. The entire meal he felt as if he was dining on Alderaan and he was a Panteer, it made his stomach heave, dinner was a constant battle to keep his food down and his hands still.

 

During the last course, while the young serving girl was setting the dessert on the table, the mysterious guest finally arrived. A young Cathar woman was escorted into the room by his favorite scowling guard. She was dressed to impress and his stomach heaved again, they were definitely trying to set him up. He appreciated the gesture the girl was stunning, her short dark brown mane smartly styled, framing her face, her slight figure poured into an incredibly tight and low-cut dress that showed off ample amounts of her light tawny coloured fur.

 

It was completely fruitless though, oh why hadn't they asked if he was single? He had to find someway to dance his way out of this situation, to leave without offending anyone and keeping his marriage to Kit'ar a secret. He stood setting his napkin on the table. Turning to greet her he grasped her offered hand; gently bringing her fingers to his lips he kissed her clawtips.

 

“This is our niece Zara Krasul,” the Senator grinned. He gestured to Aric, “This is Captain Jorgan.”

 

She looked him over, brow arched; Aric's stomach rolled. She looked as if she was dissecting him. She glanced back at her uncle and aunt; they both smiled nodding at Aric, her lips curled down in a frown. “Your lack of facial markings is rather … distinctive,” her frown deepened. “I have never seen a mane like that before, it's actually red and yellow. What's up with your eyes, they are two different colours, that's pretty I suppose but why are you so short?” She looked him over again, “we are the same height.”

 

Aric dropped her hand as if burned, trying not to choke, his appearance had not been mocked like that in years. “I... I … take after my Mother, I have been told I look just like her.”

 

“Oh... really,” Zara said, “and who is she?”

 

Ondia hissed, “Zara! Your. Manners. Captain I am so sorry one does try to instill the importance of manners and other social graces in the younger kits.” Ondia moved closer to Aric while the Senator scowled crossing his arms, staring at Zara. Zara just looked at him and shrugged, before she returned her critical gaze to Aric.

 

“I … I,” Aric swallowed, “My Mother was Jedi Master Rayna.”

 

“Was?” the young Cathar asked eliciting another hiss from Ondia and a low threatening growl from Senator Zorin.

 

“Yes,” he nodded, his shaking hands were getting harder to control; gripped in fists so tightly at his sides, his clawtips were digging into the pads of his palms. “She died when I was ten.”

 

“Oh, yeah, right... she died.” The young Cathar dismissively responded, it was as if she was discussing a table linen she didn't like.

 

Aric felt his body start to shake, he wasn't sure what was going on but he needed to get out of here.

 

“So was she the one related to the Prince?”

 

“What...” Aric whispered, his voice shaking. He didn't understand what they were talking about. His Grandfather refused to speak of his family, he would grow angry whenever Aric would ask.

 

The Senator snarled, “Zara, that is enough.”

 

“What?” she rolled her eyes, “I’m just asking, would make sense why he would be going by such a ridiculous surname. Jorgan,” she snorted, “like any Cathar has a name like that.”

 

He clenched his jaw shut, what other name was he to use? That is his name, well was, but he was not able to fully use his mate's family name until he was out of the military. Taking a deep breath he gathered what was left of his rapidly disappearing wits.

 

“It was a pleasure to meet you Zara, thank you again for the dinner invitation, but I am afraid I have to leave." He gave each of them a brief nod as he turned on his heel and headed out of the room.

 

He heard Senator Krasul, “Damn it girl can't you be civil for once? You only had to eat dessert with him, and you managed to drive him out of the room before you even sat down to the table.”

 

“So he got upset and left like a crying kit, who cares, he didn't even answer my question.”

 

“Oh you fracking idiot! Of course he is, through his mother's bloodline. Is your skull filled with duracrete?” The Senator growled, “You managed, in less than three minutes, to drive off the only Republic supporting member of the Prince's family.”

 

“Oh, so he is related, why didn't he just answer, he didn't have to be so rude.”

 

“Neither did you, you witless spoiled brat, his mother was the Prince's only cousin, he doted on her children, since he had none of his own.” The Senator snarled, his voice a low rumbling growl that stopped Aric in his tracks, “that man is far better than what you deserve, you have no idea how badly you just karked everything up.” Aric looked back over his shoulder brow furrowed, by the ancestors what was he talking about? The Senator looked up catching Aric's confused stare, the Senator's eyes grew wide and he grabbed his niece's arm and dragged her out of the dining room.

 

Aric shook his head, moving through the now silent apartment; even his scowling lurker had vanished. Shaking his head he left, slowly walking down the hall, he had no idea what had just happened in that apartment. The entire episode was bizarre, Senator Krasul and his wife were acting very odd, their niece was a self-important snot and extremely insulting; he was still wondering how he managed to keep his temper under control and just walk out. He should of listened to his gut and turned down the invitation.

 

---`--`--{@

 

He stalked into the crew's barracks. Elara looked up and smiled at him, a smile that faded faster than fresh cuts flowers in the Tatooine heat. “What happened?”

 

He shook his head, as he unhooked the holster, dropping it onto his bed, before tackling his dress uniform’s buttons.

 

“Tell me what happened.”

 

He glanced at her, “It was a mistake.” He hung his shirt up as he pulled off his undershirt. “A huge mistake.”

 

“Why?”

 

He undid his belt, pulling it off and throwing it on the bed. “It was the strangest dinner I have ever been to.”

 

When he didn't elaborate, she frowned, “Strange how, Aric?”

 

He scowled pausing as he pulled off his dress uniform slacks. “It was surreal; the place was set-up as if they were entertaining royalty. They also had only other Cathar there. The entire meal I ate and drank was apparently catered to me, made entirely of my favorite Catharian meals.”

 

“Really, that's interesting, how did they know what you liked?”

 

“Good question,” he scowled as he finally pulled his slacks off, grasping the pants by the cuffs, he lined them up by the seams and neatly hung them over a hanger. Hanging his uniform in his small closet, he grabbed a set of grey fatigues. “Considering until tonight I have never eaten any, I did really enjoy everything they made though.”

 

“You have never eaten it? That's unusual, it's where your species originated.”

 

“My Grandfather was very stubborn and opinionated about it, nothing Cathar related was even allowed in the house.”

 

“I wonder what he would say now?” She smiled at him.

 

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling his pants on. “He disowned me a year after the Sacking, I doubt he would care.”

 

“Oh... I'm so sorry I didn't know.”

 

He glanced at her shaking his head, “Don't be, it was never an easy relationship.”

 

Elara stared at him for a moment before speaking, “What else happened tonight.”

 

Aric paused while pulling his shirt on over his head, “Well it seemed they know more about me and my family than I do, or did if what they said is true. I also had my appearance insulted by their niece.”

 

Elara blanched, “So they were trying to set you up?”

 

“Yes, they were. She showed up at the end of dinner. Things were going okay until she opened her mouth and asked how I was related to some Prince, after she insulted my height, hair and eyes, and blew off my Mother and her passing.”

 

“Prince? Cathar have princes?”

 

“Yes,” he gave her a small smile, “there are. We also have princesses and queens, even the occasional king. I just don't understand why they thought I was related to one. I left before I could find out who he was. I couldn't stay.” He finished pulling his shirt over his head. Grabbing a hair tie he pulled his mane back securing it at the nape of his neck. “The night was to … odd, having my Mother insulted, my appearance belittled and my surname mocked was to much, I had enough and had to leave.”

 

“I,” he looked at her, “am going to get a drink and forget this evening ever happened.”

 

She smiled up at him, setting down her datapad and rising off her bunk. “If you are up for company I would like to come along, let's head to the Dealer's Den and grab a couple of beers.”

 

He smiled, “After you.”

 

 

 

 

AN

 

Prompt: Well that's awkward.

Senator Zorin Krasul Everyones favorite grumpy Senator from Cathar. His wife Ondia, their sons, Riv and Valdon Krasul

 

Their dinner spread

cloudberries grew on Bakura

and aleudrupe berry from Yagaran was considered to be a delicacy in many systems.

 

k I wont lie, when thinking this one up I thought cathar=lions, cathar cusine = african.. north african/middle eastern. Warka are these crispy fried meat filled cigars.. http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Moroccan-Meat-Cigars/Detail.aspx?evt19=1

Ganza, are made up beans similar to garbanzo beans/chick peas

tuber roots are potatoes

 

oh another note: When I was a member of the S.C.A. (http://www.sca.org/) I was taught that kissing a woman's hand held certain implications based on where you kissed it.... imagine her fingertips are her toes, a very polite place to be, as you move up her fingers you *ahem moved up her legs, kissing her fingers between her first and second knuckle was akin to kissing her thighs... kissing her on the top on the hand was a very forward and naughty thing insinuating you wanted to kiss her in the most private of places; so if you were not a scandalous cad you kept it polite and g rated, kissing her fingertips or nails.

 

Edited June 4, 2018 by Kitar

[Kitar]

Happy Hump Day!

 

Have another chapter!

Spoiler

Spoilers: References an Imperial NPC from Balsavis

 

CHAPTER 72

 

 

Year 3635 Month 8 Morning after

 

CORUSCANT ONBOARD THUNDERCLAP

 

The dull chiming echoed again before disappearing. Frowning he looked again for its source. An eternity passed while he searched, wandering through dimly lit corridors the encroaching shadows pacing him as he moved.

 

There it is, snapping his head towards the muffled sound. A dull chiming that grew louder, its mechanized voice taking on a more urgent tone. The sound began to build echoing around him, reverberating off the thick shadows. Only to disappear in the span of a single breath leaving him alone in silence. It was replaced by a lilting voice, one that whispered words that hovered just beyond his hearing. Straining he tried to make them out, the voice began to mock him; blatant insults that blurred becoming indistinguishable as they reached his ear.

 

In a breath the voice stopped, its echoing insults slowly fading, to again leave him in silence. Jarringly the chiming returned, causing him to jump. Clutching his head he groaned, where was that damn noise coming from? The chiming grew ever louder, its mechanized voice screaming, as he searched hands firmly clamped over his ears.

 

As he walked he stumbled over a little box, bending to pick it up he removed one hand from an ear. The box was vibrating in his hand. Confused he opened up the small nondescript box; a loud chiming filled the air as the box disintegrated in his hand. Backpedaling he tripped over his feet falling to the ground.

 

~*~

 

The chiming returned, pulling at him; grunting he moved his arm, trying to extract it from under the pillows, the unusually warm and heavy pillows. Cracking open his eye, he peered through the dark room. The chiming faded and his leg began to vibrate. He pulled again managing to liberate his trapped arm. Next to him he heard a muffled squeak of protest. Carefully he shifted his weight, moving his legs, as he peered through the darkness trying to determine where exactly he was.

 

He was able to make out the shadowed outlines of the crew's barracks. The chiming returned, it's insistent demand muffled through the fabric of his slacks. Next to him the protesting warmth, muttered another ineligible complaint. Shifting his body away towards what appeared to be the edge of the mattress, his leg began to vibrate again. Slipping his hand down into his slacks he grabbed his holocommunicator; it shook angrily in his hand. Setting his feet upon the cool floor he bent over resting his elbows on his knees, knuckle rubbing his eye he queued up the com. The blued image of his mate jumped into view.

 

“Aric, Aric are you okay?” She was frantic, her voice seemed to echo in the tomb-like calm of the room.

 

“I'm fine,” he rumbled, his voice a rough whisper.

 

“You're fine?” Her blued image stared at him. “I have been trying to get a hold of you for hours.”

 

“Hours?” He rubbed his free hand over his face, before attempting to balance his holo on his knee. He pulled his shirtsleeve back exposing his chrono, tapping the surface it briefly luminesced, displaying the time. It was barely four am; he was too tired to even calculate the current time in Kaas City. That is when he realized that the holo he was talking on was his Republic issued com. She had risked calling him on it; the com she had given to him back on Voss was locked in his footlocker. “Why, what happened? Are the kits okay?”

 

“No Aric,” she growled, “what happened to you?”

 

He shook his head, “It was nothing.”

 

“Nothing! Aric you were so angry and you didn't answer your com, either of them! I have been trying all night to raise you. What happened to you? I thought someone found out...” her voice trailed off as her anger seemed to deflate.

 

Oh stars he was a karking idiot. “How did you know?”

 

Her blued form shifted, her eyebrow arched as her mouth settled into a firm line.

 

“Right,” he muttered. That was a stupid question, he thought, your Mate's a Force user, she is able to feel things, some Force thing you don't entirely understand. He sighed rubbing his face. “I'm sorry Kit I really am. I didn't mean to upset you, I am still not used to you being able to pick up on things like that.”

 

“It's okay I just thought something had happened, that you were unable to answer or worse.”

 

“It was nothing like that, it was stupid.”

 

“To get you that upset? Tell me what happened.”

 

Next to him he heard another sleep-slurred complaint, “One second Kit.” He shifted in the bed, silently rising to his feet. Quietly he padded out of the room, moving to the security of the cargo hold. Clawing the door behind him, he locked it. “Alright, it was nothing but a really bad day.”

 

She smiled at him as he perched on the stacked cargo crates. “Well?”

 

He rubbed his face tucking loose locks behind his ear; “I had a very awkward, very insulting dinner with a Senator and his family.”

 

“A dinner upset you that much?”

 

“Well, it just, oh it was bizarre, it was more uptight than a formal dinner with the Thuls. And they were trying to set me up with this insufferable brat. It was beyond uncomfortable.”

 

“Set you up?”

 

“Yes,” he sighed, “about three years ago I saved a Senator from a very sudden and explosive death.”

 

“Oh exciting, which Senator?”

 

“Krasul from Cathar.”

 

“So I take it he was trying to set you up with another Cathar?”

 

“He would of liked to yes, but they didn't actually ask if I was single.” He smiled at her. “I managed to get out of there without telling anyone about us.”

 

The room fell silent as she watched him. “That sounds really awkward, but not overly horrible. What else happened?”

 

He sighed. “Well the niece they introduced to me... She was horrid. It was as if she had no verbal filter. She insulted my appearance and height; mocked my colouring, my eyes. I was blindsided, I tried telling her I took after my mother. She didn't care, she just blew it off, then she decided my name was an alias, and it was a bad one, that it was a way to hide that I was related to some Prince. I have no idea what they were talking about, the Senator he knew, he knew but didn't explain. I was just... I didn't know what to do; somehow I managed not to explode. I...” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I have always liked the fact I take after my mother, I might be smaller than average and I know my colouring isn't desirable, but it's the only tangible thing I have left. And she...” he sighed.

 

He felt a pressure run along his neck. Aric looked up, she was leaning forward, brow creased in worry. “You're desirable; your strong, an excellent soldier, you're attention to detail is utterly amazing, and that di'kut is wrong you are attractive. Sounds like she would not know a good man if he jumped up and bit her.”

 

A sad smile slid across his lips, “I feel about a centimeter high right now, what she said, I just can't stop hearing her.”

 

The pressure gently moved across his neck, running along his jaw. “Forget her, her opinions don't matter. Though I am curious why they thought you had ties to royalty.”

 

He shrugged placing his hand over the gentle pressure on his cheek. “They didn't say, I have no one left, if I had more family I would know, but I don't.” He sighed.

 

The room fell silent as he stared at the blued projected form of his Mate; somewhere far away, out of his reach across the galaxy.

 

“If you think there might be any truth to it I can make a few inquiries on your behalf. Between Father's connections as well as mine we might turn up something. I even know a prince,” she smiled brightly; it was contagious causing the corners of his mouth to perk up. “I did some work for Imperial Non-Human Relations, actually freed him, he and a number of his followers were imprisoned in stasis on Belsavis. He was incredibly grateful and has been working on reestablishing his support before he returns home to Cathar. Honestly I can't wait to see what unfolds.”

 

“Wait,” he looked at her brow raised, “Is this something I should be hearing?”

 

She shook her head, “Probably not, I will tell you all about it in a couple months.” She grinned, “then I can tell you all sorts of things. I will even introduce you, he's a very nice guy, a good friend of my Father's.”

 

“It's a deal. Just don't tell me any more, just... just to be on the safe side.”

 

“Alright, her smile grew I can wait two little months.” Her projection shifted, “so where did you go? Why was I not able to raise you?”

 

He shook his head, “I went out to a cantina for a few drinks, Dorne came with, to keep me company. I had only had a couple but they interacted with my medication, I was pretty much hammered. Dorne had one to many as well; being separated from her family really eats at her. I just didn't know you were calling. We made it back to the ship without any incidents, crashed out on her bed. She had been crying, I was just going to sit with her until she fell asleep, apparently I fell asleep there too.”

 

Kit chewed on her lip, before she finally spoke. “It's hard, being separated from the ones you care about. Have you told her yet?”

 

“No,” he shook her head, “not yet, I don't know how, it's a rather difficult thing to explain.”

 

She nodded, returning to chewing on her lip, “I am just happy you are alright.”

 

“Yes,” he nodded, “I am tired and a little groggy but I am alright.”

 

“I am sorry, I over reacted I just thought something had happened.”

 

“It's okay, I am on edge too but we are almost done with this game.”

 

“Yes,” she smiled, “almost. I look forward to seeing you then, it's just hard having to wait.”

 

“It's alright Kit we can do it, it's just seventy days, it will be over before you know it. I am going to go back to bed.”

 

“Alright goodnight,” she kissed her fingers holding them up, he mirrored her gesture, sighing when the holo went dormant.

 

Pushing off the boxes, he slipped his holo into his sleep-wrinkled slacks, heading back to his bunk.

 

 

 

AN

Prompt is Morning After.

Mando word di'kut - idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)

 

[frauzet]

That really was a rude brat. I suppose she would have been enough cause to be upset about even had Aric known what was going on.

I love Aric's friendship with Elara, and that Kit isn't worried about them sleeping in one bed. It's probably easier not to get jealous when you sense through the Force that there is no reason to, but still.

Looking forward to the solution to some mysteries

[Kitar]

@ Frauzet

 

She really is horrible isn't she?

I really like the friendship the two of them have. It is pretty solid, hopefully it will stay that way. Kit isn't a jealous woman, plus there is a lot of trust there. There has to be considering what the two of them have to do to see each other, a lot of hiding and sneaking around. If you can't trust each other, it makes things a lot harder.

Hopefully you will get some answers soon....

 

 

 

This one is another cross post. You can find it here over in the AU thread.

 

CHAPTER 73

 

 

Year 3635 Very end of Month 8 - Month 9

 

NAR SHADDAA

 

Beginning Decryption Process: … Primary Language Detected …

 

Starting Cross Language Translation: … Working... Working... Translation Complete: ...

 

Continuing Decryption Process: … Cross Checking Encryption … Working …

 

Routing Through Security Besh ... Working... Working.... Confirming Voice Recognition Patterns

 

Decryption Complete: …

 

 

A red blinking light appeared on the datapad. Kit'ar depressed a recessed button. A long missed voice filled the air as a brief text message appeared on the screen. “It has been to long babe. To long,” the rumbling voice sighed. “My next shoreleave is in two weeks, I am sorry I wasn't able to catch up with you during this break, it's just a fast stop over for supplies and fuel. In ten days I will be waiting at the apartment hopefully you will be there to meet me.” The sad voice continued, “I miss you terribly. Until then I have a gift for you.” The sound of rustling paper filled the air, “Look in the cabinet above the datapad.” The words carried a small hint of a smile.

 

Reaching up she opened the cabinet, before her sat a beautifully wrapped package, its wrapping paper a creamy white with dark blue waves flowing across its pearl essence surface. She smiled gently picking up the box; he always managed to find the most lovely paper.

 

Slipping a copper coloured nail under a taped seam she gently loosened the paper. Her smile grew, apparently his little habits had been rubbing off on her. Turning the box she slid her nail under the opposing seam. Peaking inside the paper she saw a dark green box adorned with gold embossed lettering; a light floral fragrance floated past her nose. “Ohhh,” she sighed, slipping the rest of the paper off the box and setting it on the slightly dusty counter.

 

In her hand she held a much-coveted box of Coruscante tea. It was a very fragrant tea, slightly citrusy and she loved it. She grinned as she hit the replay button on the datapad, listening to Aric's subtly sad voice as she opened the teabox. His voice filled the air, it was a poor substitute for the actual person but she would take what she could get.

 

Setting the box on the counter she moved to the basin filling a dark grey kettle with water. After placing it on the stove she absentmindedly waved her hand, depressing the burner's button, as she walked to a decorative stand holding ceramic mugs. Pulling a small wrapped package from her robes inner pocket she picked up her favorite mug, liberating it from its peg. Walking back to the stove she placed her mug and the small box on the counter before reaching over her head into the cabinet. Her fingers grabbed a glass jar filled with a light golden brown honey. Setting the honey alongside the brightly coloured mug she picked up the small wrapped package. She smiled as she idly rolled the bright red box between her fingers.

 

~*~

 

He keyed in the door's entry code, sighing as he heard the locks slide home. Crossing through the living area he dropped his battered leatheris duffle on the burgundy upholstered couch as he made his way into the kitchen. He moved to the counter, a smile replacing his scowl. There waiting for him on the counter was the datapad.

 

Claw tapping the screen he woke the dormant machine. Quickly he tapped in the devices security code. The machine began to quietly whirr, text scrolling across the screen as it documented its warm-up. When it was completed a blinking light confirmed what he already knew, there was a message waiting for him. Smiling he entered another series of commands followed by the sequence to begin the message playback. Scrolling text confirmed the nature of the message as it prompted him to enter a security code. Happily he obliged, claw tapping on the screen. Chirping its agreement the datapad began the message's decryption.

 

While he waited for the message to be translated and decrypted he headed to the conservator. Cracking open the door he found, in the nearly empty interior, two neat rows of Corellian Ale and Rodian Ale. Smiling he reached out grabbing one of the former. Apparently she was going to make it, the ale had been restocked. Aric heard a slight whirr as the datapad cycled through. Using his thumbclaw he popped the cap off the top of the bottle. Walking back to the counter he glanced down, the blinking light boldly proclaiming that the message was ready.

 

Pushing the recessed button Aric took a healthy pull off the dark amber bottle. Her voice was so welcome as it filled the air. “Yes,” she agreed. He could hear the smile in her voice. “I will be able to make it to the apartment. I do look forward to seeing you again, you are right it has been to long, far to long.” A small sigh emanated from the datapad, “I grow impatient waiting for the days we are done with this nonsense, when this dance finally stops.” Her tone grew cold, causing his bottle to pause on its journey to his lips. He cast a frown at the datapad; he was frustrated too. “But,” her tone was considerably brighter, “it will stop, we can count the months on one hand now. I left you a little something as well. In the usual spot.” He heard her smile; almost laugh. What had she gotten him?

 

Aric set the bottle on the counter as he reached up into the cabinet where she stored her teas. There sitting next to the dark green box of Coruscante tea was a red box. Fangs flashing as he grinned, he reached up grabbing the box, it was long and rectangular covered in a bright red paper. Quickly hooking a claw under the taped seam he gently cut through the tape, before rapidly turning the box to run his claw along the remaining tape. As he pulled the paper off in a solid sheet and set it on the counter, a rich earthy fragrance filled his sinuses. Grinning he pulled the top off the box, nestled inside were four incredibly dark brown cigarras, each wrapped in its own red and black label. Csillan.

 

He honestly had no idea where they were grown; they were nearly impossible to get outside of the Ascendancy. Gently he picked up one of the cigarras bringing it up to his nose. Eyes closed he inhaled, the rich earthy fragrance filled his nose, carrying a thick sent of deep roasted nuts and a slight woody note but also a near cloyingly sweet floral scent, reminiscent of zherries. Grinning from ear to ear he extended a razor sharp claw, ready to slice the end off, when her laughter filled the air.

 

“I know this is cruel but could you wait a moment?” Aric glared at the datapad, damn woman, why give them to him if he was supposed to wait? Frowning he continued to hold the cigarra, his claw extended as he waited for an explanation. “I managed to get dinner reservations for eight o'clock this evening, if my estimation is right you arrived at roughly seven. I took the liberty of having your dress greys cleaned; they are hanging in our room. I shall be along shortly.” Her voice was laughing as she cut the recording.

 

“Damn it,” he muttered. Regretfully he took another deep breath, inhaling the rich aroma of the much-coveted cigarra. He would have to wait until after they returned home from dinner. He wondered briefly where they were going. Gently he set the cigarra back in its box nestling it on top of its mates. Shaking his head he grabbed the open ale bottle and headed down the hall to their bedroom.

 

There hanging on the front of the armoire securely wrapped in a thin transparent sheet of plastic was his dark grey formal wear. Taking a final swing off his bottle he killed it setting it on the nightstand. Glancing at his chrono he double-timed it across the room, he was running out of time. Fingers flew as he unbuttoned his fatigues; he pulled off his shirt tossing it on the bed. His belt quickly followed. His pants dropped to the floor, left in a crumpled pile entangled with his discarded boots, as he clawed open the plastic bag.

 

Pulling the pants free from their hanger he stepped into them, hastily tucking in his undershirt as he grabbed for the suit jacket silently cursing the exorbitant amount of damn buttons the thing possessed. He shot a scowling look at the dark burgundy sash that accompanied it, he swore the damn bit of fabric was laughing at him. Shrugging the jacket on he pulled on the lapels, getting the damn thing to rest on his shoulders. Cracking open the door of the armoire he grabbed his dress boots, shined and ready to go. Standing on one leg then the other he pulled them on. Returning his attention to the suit jacket he growled as he started fastening the buttons, the dark grey stone buttons which seemed to be getting slipperier with every passing second.

 

“Here let me help,” her voice rang through the air, he unconsciously jumped. He never even heard her enter the apartment. Then again if she wanted to be quiet, it would be damn near impossible for him to hear her.

 

He turned to look at her, his scowl immediately replaced by a crooked grin. Kit was standing in the doorway to their bedroom, wearing the slinky black Killik silk dress he loved, the one with the plunging neckline and the impossibly low open back. Her dark auburn hair was up, bangs framing her face. As she sauntered towards him her porcelain thigh flashed through the dress' very generous slit up the left side, her saber hilt appearing and disappearing as she moved.

 

“So how long have you been standing there?” Aric growled staring at her slow approach.

 

A lewd grin crept across her pink lips, “Long enough... I was very tempted to stop you from getting dressed.” She stopped in front of him, her hands slipping up along his chest. “But we have reservations.” His hands settled around her waist as she finished buttoning his jacket. She smiled as she moved and straightened the sash, her black painted fingernails sliding along it before coming to a rest on his hips. “I missed you.” Her dark violet dusted eyes started to close as she leaned closer.

 

He tightened his grip on her waist, his clawtips gently digging into her bareback. “Do we have to go?” he whispered as he brushed his lips against hers, being oh so careful not to smudge her makeup.

 

“We do,” she mumbled into his mouth, her hands tightening. “It's dinner and then we have all night.”

 

“Is that all we have?” he rumbled.

 

“Sadly yes,” she sighed breaking the kiss. “Duty calls.”

 

He leaned down his lips ghosting over hers as he kissed her before begrudgingly dropping his hands. “Who needs sleep, come,” he held his arm up, offering it to her. Smiling she slipped her left hand in grasping his arm. “I take it you have a taxi waiting?”

 

She grinned, her green eyes sparkling, “Was there any doubt?”

 

He returned her smile, “Never.”

 

“Good,” she reached up, tucking a wayward lock of mane behind his ear.

 

“Lets get going then,” Aric rumbled, “don't want to be late, it would cut into our time for dessert and I'm really looking forward to it.”

 

Her green eyes rolled as she shook her head, but he saw the smile as she turned her head away from him. Fangs flashing as he grinned he started walking down the hall, escorting her out of their home and to the waiting taxi.

 

 

 

AN

Prompt: Love Letters and Secret Valentines

A zherry the star wars equivalent of a cherry.

I learned something new, a fridge in star wars is called a conservator

 

 

[frauzet]

I like the little gifts of things that would be hard to get for the respective other.

<3

[Kitar]

@ Frauzet

Yeah, I liked writing that one. Gave me a moment to really think about that the other would want that they could not easily pick up at the local store. There has to be a couple perks to the unusual situation they are in.

 

 

This one is a short one.... I should probably post two. I think I will be posting my next one a wee bit early if I can since I will be traveling next week

 

CHAPTER 74

 

 

Year 3635 Month 10

 

CHIMERA DOCKED ON DROMUND KASS

 

After all these years of service it came to this, a forced transfer. He shook his head biting the inside of his cheek refusing to let his anger get the better of him. Coolly composed he continued to pack his belongings. He had held off on securing these last few items, still in denial that he was actually being permanently transferred off the ship. Gently he reached into the bottom of his personal storage locker, his fingers running over the neatly arranged boxes inside.

 

Muffled voices echoed to him through the ship. He froze momentarily, listening, the ship was supposed to be empty he had specifically returned to the ship at this hour to resume packing when he could be alone. So when he left he could simply walk away, keeping his dignity intact.

 

Sighing he tried to force the whispering echoes from his head, but it was fruitless, the harder he tried to ignore them the louder they became. The whispering turned into laughter, clear bright laughter. It was his wife laughing; he had not heard her laugh like that in years. Looking up he tried to imagine what had tickled her so. A deep rumbling laugh followed her light one. The Lieutenant.

 

Scowling returned his attention to the open locker. Staring through the neatly organized boxes her voice drifted to him. “So what was it you could only show me in private?” She was still laughing. Thankfully he could not hear the lieutenant’s response, just his low rumbling laugh. “But I have seen that before,” her tone teasing.

 

“But you haven’t seen this m’ Lord.” A sharp gasp echoed through the ships corridors.

 

“Oh Pierce they are beautiful, where did you find these?”

 

“Illum found um in a cave I came across, thought you would like them.”

 

“Oh I do, I have never seen this colour before.”

 

“Yeah, thought it was pretty rare, actually thought it was gold until I got closer to it. Thought this blue one matched the one you use, in case you ever need to replace it.” He heard muffled movement and the Lieutenant spoke again. “Found these for Kyra and Aryn, for when they are old enough for real sabers.”

 

“Oh,” her voice was a heady whisper, “they are perfect, such an intense green.”

 

“Yeah,” he rumbled, “like their eyes, like yours.”

 

Sharp slicing pain snapped him out of his stupor; looking at his hand he was gripping an ancient Sith blade, his left hand dripping blood. He had not even realized he had picked up the ancient dagger. Dropping it on the floor he hurried to the medical kit he kept with his personal effects. Hands shaking he opened a jar of thick Kolto oil and spread it along the deep clean cut. The oil cooled and then burned on contact, his palm tingling as it began to work.

 

The Lieutenant’s remembered voice rumbled back to him, the gift I gave her… he shuddered. The gift… my son… my daughter. Kyra and Aryn. Their children, the children he had with his wife. The memory pushed on, that marriage ended … in ion and blood, the gift I gave her, the Lieutenant’s voice rumbled louder laughing in his head. They should have been his; he loved her.

 

 

 

AN

Prompt was the Seven Deadly Sins again, this one Envy. I had actually intended to write one for each sin but I stalled out after three.

The dagger was one I kept for some reason, Rank 4 Purple Decorative Sith Blade, Imperial Memorabilia. It is really amazing what I find buried in my cargohold after all these years.

 

[Kitar]

So... I will be out of town so I decided to post this one early. I am not sure if I will be able to post again until I return home.

 

Spoilers

None I can think of.

 

I don't know if it is severe enough to warrant a trigger warning but I am going to give you one anyway, just in case.

Trigger warnings:

Torture

 

 

 

CHAPTER 75

 

 

Year 3635 Month 10

 

NAR SHADDAA

 

“Sir,” her small voice whispered into the silence.

 

He turned looking over his shoulder. “Yes Dorne?” He turned back to his reflection. His body was humming, hands shaking as he buttoned his shirt. His fingers slipped, again. Sighing he growled to himself and gabbed the slippery button, again.

 

“Here let me,” her voice quiet as she slipped in next to him. He smiled down at her and unconsciously wiped his sweaty palms off on the back of his slacks. “Sir,” she frowned at him handing him a towel.

 

“I know, I know don’t wipe your hands on your pants,” he mumbled.

 

“Especially when you look this nice, Sir.” She winked at him as she smoothed the front of his shirt.

 

“I just want to get out of here, seems the faster I try to move the more I slip up.”

 

She looked up at him a smile gracing her pleasant features. “Understandable Sir, it has been over a month.”

 

He grumbled “Don’t remind me,” he reached down futzing with his shirt.

 

“Jorgan,” she grabbed his hand.

 

“Huh,” he grunted.

 

“I’m sure I am just being paranoid and I know this goes without saying but please Aric be careful.”

 

“I’m always careful, I’m just headed to her apartment.”

 

She tugged on his hand diverting his attention from his shirt. “I’m serious Aric, I have a bad feeling about this, please be careful. Take this,” she held out a small holdout blaster, a mere slip of a weapon designed to slip into a boot.

 

“Elara,” he shook his head, “I don't think that will be necessary.”

 

She shook her head pushing it towards him, “I don't care take it and then leave it in her apartment. Just don’t leave here unarmed.”

 

He looked at her. Hand held up he extended his claws, “I am never unarmed Elara.”

 

She stared at him expectantly, “Take the damn thing. I have this feeling I’m never going to see you again, you need to be careful.”

 

“Fine, fine,” he muttered retracting his claws and taking the blaster. He slipped it into his boot. “Happy now?” He grumbled.

 

“A little, I’ll be happy when this trip is over with and you are back on the ship.”

 

“You are really worried about me aren’t you?”

 

“Yes, I’m probably being paranoid but I am worried.”

 

“No you’re not, I put a lot of stock into those gut feelings.” He looked at her, if only you knew who I spend all my spare time with, he thought, you wouldn't disregard those gut feelings either.

 

“Thank you for humoring me.”

 

He smiled down at the medic.

 

“The crew and I we really look to you, if anything were to happen to you…” she trailed off.

 

“Nothing is going to happen, I will be fine. Speaking of the crew are they ready for this shore leave?”

 

She laughed, “The Major is with Jonas, Vic has already left the ship, Forex is eagerly awaiting his oil bath, Yunn will be leaving this evening to assist another Findsmen. I have plans myself,” she grinned a slight rose creeping across her cheeks.

 

Aric noticed her slight blush, “So when are you going to introduce me to this 'friend' of yours?” He crossed his arms across his chest fixing her with a stern frown. Her blush bloomed deepening to a deep crimson.

 

“I thought perhaps, if you were interested, we could go out to dinner, on the last evening of our shore leave. If you and your lady friend would like to go, that is.” As she stammered the invitation she nervously tucked her loose blonde hair behind her ear.

 

“That sounds nice, I will make a reservation at Nauge Noir, White Star.”

 

“Really? That would be fantastic; I have never been there.”

 

“Neither have my 'lady friend' or I, I have heard the food is fantastic and the views are spectacular, it makes a complete rotation every hour. Besides if this guy does not met expectations I can always toss him off the restaurant.”

 

Elara's green eyes widened as she stared at him.

 

He chuckled, patting her on the shoulder. “Teasing. I will forward you the dinner confirmation.”

 

“Sounds excellent, we will see you in four days.”

 

“Yeap it's a date,” he agreed. He straightened, “so I look presentable.”

 

“Sir,” she smiled, “you look adorable.”

 

He scowled. “Wonderful just the impression I wanted to make,” he grumbled as he turned to leave.

 

“Tell her I said hello.” He looked back, at the medic, over his shoulder grinning, “will do Lieutenant.”

 

~*~*~

 

He hated to admit it but Dorne was right. There was something wrong. He had humored her and took a different way out of the landing bay; he noticed a pair of troopers acting oddly along his normal path out of the Starport. He took another speeder to the Promenade; another trooper was trying unsuccessfully to shadow him. His heart started to beat faster. He was definitely being followed. Slipping into the crowd in the Lower Promenade he chewed on his lip debating his next course of action.

 

He did not want to head to their apartment, he did not want to bring them to her, that would be way to… messy. He did need to get away from them though and alert her. He knew something like this was going to happen. The wrong person finally found out. He slipped past the entrance to the cantina and her awaiting apartment in the building’s upper level.

 

He quickly doubled back passing another man, this one was dressed in civies and was casually waiting near the cantina entrance. Yes the wrong person definitely found out, they were expecting him to go straight to her. Cursing under his breath he slid into a throng of tourists looking at the giant Hutt statue. He slipped between two rather large Human men, using their bulk to camouflage his movements.

 

He slid his hand into his pocket and cued up her personal com. He heard it beep and her voice spoke, muffled in his pocket. He bent down pretending to re-lace his boot, “My Lord, I have made friends, currently on the Lower Promenade, need a location to meet you.” He spoke to his leg, hoping she could hear him. Straining he waited for her answer, he only heard his heart beating in his ears. One. Two. Three. Four.

 

“Understood, head towards Shadowtown, will meet you there.”

 

“Understood my Lord, leaving the channel open.”

 

Shadowtown he shuddered, he remembered that place, but he understood, it was the only place on this rock the Hutts would look the other way if any blood was spilled between the two warring factions. Slowly he looked around, his shadow was still standing near the Slippery Slope entrance, his eyes rapidly scanning the crowd, the rest of his body relaxed leaning against the wall.

 

He moved quickly through the crowd trying to keep his head down and appear to be part of the tourist crowd. He cursed himself for not wearing a jacket or long coat, anything with a hood, he stood out and he knew it. He managed to make it to the awaiting droid at the taxi pad without attracting any new tails, and it seemed for the moment he lost his current ones.

 

The drive seemed to drag on; an eternity later he landed the taxi on the awaiting pad and handed it back over to the droid. He waved and mumbled as the droid prattled on about speeder usage. He slipped behind some stacked crates, looking around. He did not see anyone else nearby. He looked up along the building’s rooflines. Nothing, he appeared to be alone for the moment. He bent down to adjust his boot. He slowly slid the blaster from its hiding place and spoke to his thigh again. “My Lord, arrived at the Upper Industrial Sector en route to the objective.” He heard the muffled hum of a lightsaber, and a quiet, “understood.”

 

Glancing around one more time, he palmed the small blaster and took off in the shadows. Slipping into and out of the shadows he hurried along the deathly quiet corridors. No one willingly ventured here. Constantly he smelled the air as he moved, trying to detect any new or old scents, any indicators to let him know he was being followed again. He wondered briefly what he was going to say and do when he met the troops he knew were stationed at the high security prison. An icy chill ran down his spine, complete honesty, he was going to have to be completely honest with them. He was going to have to tell the Imperials who he was waiting for, show them her com, she would be there to tell them over the holocom what was happening. At least once he was there he would not have to worry about the tail. Icy fingers gripped his stomach, unless they somehow knew, unless they were somehow in on it. He stopped short and leaned against the wall. No! he yelled at himself, don’t do this, you have to trust her, when has she ever failed you? Get to the prison.

 

As he pushed himself away from the wall he smelled something, the faint smell of boot polish and blaster oil. He moved to late, the smell alerted him too late. He was shoved up against the wall, his head bouncing off the duracrete. Grunting he looked at his assailant, he was Human dressed in civies, brown hair neatly combed, he had the almost natural, slightly slimy look of intelligence about him. Growling he glared at the man, “Unhand me.”

 

The man smirked. “Oh no, Captain Jorgan, why would I do something as foolish as that.” Coruscante accent, man was with SIS. “We have plans for you.” The man moved faster than he could track, his fist impacted with his head, hard. Aric bit his lip as his head slammed again into the duracrete, the back of his head exploded in pain, he saw stars that flared brightly and faded into utter and complete blackness.

 

~*~*~

 

When he woke he was restrained in a chair. His arms were behind him, tightly chained to the back, his legs chained to each side. He tried to move, his bounds gave him no quarter, he could not so much as twist his wrist. “Oh look who is awake,” a voice taunted. Blinking he looked through the dimly lit room to its source. The clean-cut man was sitting on a backwards chair, hands dangling over the back as he sneered at him.

 

“So tell me Captain, just how long have you been seeing this … Sith of yours?” Aric narrowed his eyes and glared at him. “It’s had to be at least what seven, eight months, maybe longer. I’m thinking longer, a lot longer. My bet is on at least a year. It’s impressive how well the two of you managed to stay under the radar, slipping into and out of contested space.” The Agent shifted in the chair, staring at him expectantly. Aric ignored him, dropping his eyes to the floor.

 

“Not going to talk to me? Now that’s a pity, that just confirms you are definitely not an innocent victim in all of this.”

 

The blow took him by surprise, slamming across the right side of his face; it brought stars to his eyes. The next took him squarely in the chest, stealing his breath. “So how long have you been together?” Aric stared at his feet refusing to look up. The third blow connected with his jaw, he felt blood trickle through his teeth; its coppery warmth coated his tongue. The next connected with his right kidney, gritting his teeth Aric swallowed a scream.

 

“How long have you been seeing this Sith?” The Agent asked.

 

He glared at the man out of the corner of his eye, ignoring his question. They were fools to think he was going to actually talk to them. The fist connected with his mouth, bones crunched as more blood flowed between his teeth. The next few landed in quick succession, squarely in his chest, pain flashed through his body, his breath froze in his lungs. He slumped forward struggling to draw breath. Another blow exploded across his right temple as he slumped into darkness.

 

~*~*~*~

 

 

“I really thought she would have been here by now. Maybe she does not care so much for you after all.” Aric blinked fighting to open his eyes, one was swollen shut, and he felt warmth running down his face. It had to be blood. The voice taunted again, “So how long have you been with the Sith?” The same damn question he was not going to answer it.

 

The chair next to him creaked, “It looks like you had been so close too. Don’t you think so?” A datapad entered his limited field of vision. On the screen was the image of him and Kit in a very compromising position. He growled. “Yeah,” the Agent murmured, “that’s a nice one, I do like this one better though,” the Agent tapped the screen and slid the datapad in front of Aric. It showed them, an entangled embrace of crimson and cream, on a blanket on Alderaan, their clothes strewn about forgotten with only her black cloak partially draped over his back. He growled again, lower deeper, his eyes narrowed as his rage built.

 

“Yeah that is a nice one, she really does look fantastic, barely a scar on her, she must be rather a talented duelist.”

 

Another voice chimed in, a deeper one, “Yeah she is quite lethal. Makes me wonder what she sees in you furball. A Force-blind alien, imagine what a real man could do with her.”

 

Aric growled louder and looked up at the second speaker. Another Human. The man knelt in front on him, brown and beige robes, saber hung on his hip. A damn Jedi.

 

The Jedi smirked at him, “Now Captain,” he spit the word. “Tell us what we want to know,” he quietly moved his hand in front of Aric, “How long have you been with the Sith.” Aric looked at him and grinned, he felt his words tug at him, demanding an answer, and he ignored them, refusing to give into the Jedi’s demand. The Jedi looked at him perplexed. Again he moved his hand in front of Aric, “How long have you been with the Sith.” Again Aric ignored the command.

 

Slowly Aric shook his head at the Jedi, a small grin playing on his lips. The Jedi stared at him, his jaw slack. The Jedi’s eyes moved to the Agent and he shook his head. Aric started to laugh, “That does not work on me.”

 

The Jedi hissed, reached out and grabbed his ear. Twisting it he demanded, “Tell me!”

 

Aric grunted, gritted his teeth as the side of his head exploded in pain, his ear screaming as the Human twisted the sensitive cartridge.

 

The Jedi twisted Aric's head sideways and stared into his eyes. “How long have you and the Wrath been together?” Aric stared at his face, it was twisted in anger, his eyes smoldering. He looks more like a Sith, Aric mused, thought Jedi were supposed to remain calm. The Jedi snarled; pain erupted in his head as his other ear was twisted, the aurodium digging into his flesh. “How dare you,” the Jedi hissed through clenched teeth.

 

Aric grinned blood dripping down his face, “Then stay out of my head.” Aric spat a mouthful of blood into the Jedi’s face; smiling as it dribbled down his face dropping onto his pristine white shirt.

 

The Jedi growled, relinquishing his ears. Wiping the blood off his face the Jedi scowled. The air sparked, the thick odor of metal coated his sinuses, Aric braced himself. The Jedi's fist connected with Aric’s left side, he felt the bones break under the Force fueled punch. His breath fled from his lungs, gasping he tried to breathe; his eyes teared up and his body convulsed as the Jedi landed blow after blow. His knee exploded; he felt the bones move, the cartilage tear as the Jedi’s fist connected. His chair wrenched itself free from the floor and he fell onto the durasteel. His head slamming against the metal surface, more stars danced in his myopic blurred vision.

 

The chair was shoved back into an upright position, Aric’s head bounced off the wooden back. “Since you refuse to cooperate you filthy mongrel, I’ll give you some motivation to work on your manners.”

 

The Jedi pulled a small silver device out of his pocket, behind him Aric heard the SIS Agent laugh. “How many do you think it will take before he starts talking? You want to place a friendly wager?” the Agent chuckled.

 

The Jedi bristled, “I don’t know I don’t care, I’m not stopping until he’s begging.”

 

“I don’t know if you will get that result, he seems pretty tough. Heard all of Havoc is,” the Agent’s chair creaked as he moved.

 

The Jedi hissed, “Oh I’ll get my answers, he’s not as blind as I thought. Just another weakness to exploit,” the Jedi’s low sadistic chuckle filled the air. He heard the click of the button moments before the arcing snapping pain jumped through his body. Scorched fur filled his nostrils as more blood coated his tongue. The click echoed through the room as electricity once again coursed through his body. He gritted his teeth refusing to give the men any satisfaction in hearing him scream.

 

Rough hands jerked his head back against the chair, the thick collar around his neck thudding as it connected. “Tell me you scum, how long have you been with her.”

 

Aric growled, glaring at him.

 

The Jedi canted his head as he regarded him, “so now much can you see,” a crooked grin slid across the Jedi's face as he closed his eyes. A bright flash of white erupted in Aric’s vision, it echoed through his brain. He could feel something in his head, poking prodding dragging itself through his mind searching. He gritted his teeth whimpering. He felt the question echo in his mind, “How long, what have you told her.” Aric growled trying to resist, to prevent those prying fingers from gleaming any information about her. The invasive presence grew more persistent, rougher, digging and scratching. Aric swallowed painful whimpers as his body twitched and jumped beyond his control.

 

A strangled scream reached his ears, his hoarse scream, as the icy hands dug prying.

 

“What do you see?” the Agent's voice echoed.

 

Aric heard a low fustrated snarl. “Damn him, he is managing to hide her.”

 

“What? Hide her, how?” the Agent sounded so far away.

 

“Not sure but he is.”

 

Aric heard another hoarse near-voiceless scream fill the air as his body twitched, out of his control, while the Jedi continued to search.

 

He heard laughter, “Well,” the Jedi’s voice was distant faded, “he’s been with her for just about two standard years, sleeping with her for longer.”

 

The Agent answered, he was even further away, his voice drifted back to Aric. “That’s a long time, wonder if they are mated.”

 

“Mated,” the Jedi hissed, “don’t be absurd.”

 

“It’s possible, that’s a long time to slink through warzones, something has to be driving them. I wonder why he has not defected yet.”

 

Through the distant haze he heard the hum of lightsabers being ignited. Her voice quiet, a calm penetrating light, carried through the fog. “He never had any intention of defecting, for some unfathomable reason he likes the Republic.” He heard a gasping strangle as the icy prying talons were ripped from his head, opening his swollen eye he looked to her voice. There in front of him the Jedi dangled, his hands fruitlessly trying to free his choking throat. Beyond, she stood hand in the air, smiling, her eyes glittering from the depths of her black hood. Her cyan blue saber bathed the area around her in light, causing her to glow.

 

Next to her Jaesa stood saber ignited ready waiting for her Master's order. Behind her stood Pierce, Vette and a small squad of armored Imperial troopers. The Jedi’s choking form flew across the room smashing into the far wall; he landed on the floor with a bone-numbing thump. She lowered her hood, her eyes only on Aric, “My apologies for my late arrival.”

 

He shook his head; his throat was so rough, his tongue swollen refusing to work, “better, late … than never, my dear.” At the sound of his voice her eyes narrowed.

 

Behind him he heard the sound of sabers igniting, looking around Aric saw two more Jedi, they had assisted the schutta spawn to his feet. Rubbing his throat his tormenter had pulled his green blade and his attention was on Kit. Looking over his other shoulder he saw the gleam of durasteel, there were Republic troops in here as well. The figures were to blurry to count properly but it was more than apparent he was the bait to draw her here and they were planning on only leaving corpses on the floor.

 

“My dear,” her voice was cold and calm, he shivered knowing the rage that lay hidden behind her quiet facade. “Your call.”

 

“What,” he heard the Agent mutter, the taunting laughing tone finally wiped from his voice.

 

Aric glared at him from the corner of his eye. His vision started to worsen; the abuse heaped upon him was pushing him over the edge, back down into the darkness of unconsciousness. “Kill. Them. All,” he spat. “My Mate.”

 

“Gladly,” she grinned.

 

Growling Kit launched herself at the Agent, Aric saw the surprise on the Agent’s face as she ran him through. Behind her Vette started shooting, her lekku flying as she sought cover near Pierce; the huge man knelt next to her as blinking thermal detonators arched towards the Republic troopers. His head grew heavy; he heard the hammering of durasteel-clad boots running past him. He rolled his heavy head to the side, watching as the Wrath and her apprentice scythed their way to the Jedi. Everything was growing dark, he willed himself to remain awake, just a little bit longer.

 

He heard a stealth generator snap off, the faintly remembered odor of Talz drifted to him, behind the troopers a huge Talz appeared swinging a massive vibrosword, the faint warbling of ‘bringing glory to the Sith Clan’ reached his ears. Blinking he turned back to the Sith, one of the Jedi lay dead at their feet, the second fell to Jaesa’s golden blade as he watched. Kit picked up the remaining Jedi; he was missing his saber arm, it was cleaved at the elbow. Aric's vision grew darker; his head heavier, the last thing he saw before he gave in was his mate running the twisted Jedi torturer through.

 

 

 

AN

 

Nauge Noir, White Star the famous Black Cloud, White Star restaurant

Dinner there sounded so nice too...

 

On another note this actually marks the halfway point in the story. If I actually knew what I was doing I would probably split it into another story since this one is already 384 pages long, but since I don't I will just change the chapter headings accordingly.

 

[frauzet]

If I interpreted that right, they abducted Aric to lure Kit out?

Should have planned that better I guess.

Looking forward to find out what happens next.

[Kitar]

@ Frauzet

I'm answering from my phone. About nine hours of driving left. My first driving shift just ended.

Yes, you did interpret it correctly. Someone made the poor choice to use Aric as bait. I wonder whose bright idea that was?

 

[Kitar]

Howdy *waves* I have the spare time to sit down at the laptop and post another chapter. This is the start of the second half of the story.

 

PART II CHAPTER 1

 

 

immediately following last prompt

UNKNOWN

 

The metallic whir of the automatic respirator system pulled at him, the distant sound of air scrubbers slowly teasing him awake. The cold chill of the floor seeped into his limbs through his thin clothing. Groaning he shifted his body from its side onto its back, gritting his teeth. Everything ached, his head throbbed in time to his pulse, his jaw radiated pain, each ragged breath he drew caused waves of agony to course through his chest and he was thirsty, oh so thirsty.

 

He rolled his head trying to get comfortable on the frigid unyielding floor. His neck ached; the metal band biting into his tender flesh. Shifting his shoulders across the durasteel floor he grunted. Cracking open a bleary eye he peered through the dark room trying to get a layout of his surroundings. The room illuminated by dim red floorboard lighting; it barely penetrated the room’s inky darkness.

 

Picking up heavy arms he looked at the thick shackles that encircled them, coated in dried flaking blood. They were on so tightly, his skin was ripped, his flesh indented. Cautiously he touched his right hand to his left wrist, his jaw clenched in agony as flames flashed around the wounded joint and down his arm. Slowly he set his aching limbs on the frigid floor.

 

What had he done, why was he lying here chained? He tried to think. The ache in his head grew stronger. A white blinding flash flew through his vision. Swallowing a strangled scream, he gripped his head in his hands. An unconscious whimper escaped his parched lips. What was going on? He tightened his grip on this throbbing head; it felt as if it was going to crack apart. He pressed tighter, trying to contain the pain.

 

Eyes tightly clenched shut he took slow shallow breaths, pain flooding his chest. What was going on? He tried again to remember something, anything, some explanation as to why he was here. Blindingly white light exploded behind his eyes. A ragged scream filled the air, he realized he was screaming, the sound echoed through his head, the pain was debilitating. His body started to convulse, the restraints bit into his tender flesh causing another ragged scream to pour out of his throat. The pain in his head was becoming unbearable as the yell echoed through his aching skull.

 

Groaning he rolled onto his side curling up tightly into a ball. The movement sent more spasms through him, pulsing in a horrible cadence with his excruciating skull-splitting head. Another ear splitting scream blew through his head, causing more bright white explosions. He struggled to close his mouth and couldn’t, the screams continued to pour out of his tortured throat. The white light behind his eyes overwhelmed him, his entire body jerked. Something snapped everything went black and he felt like he was falling then he felt nothing at all.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Slowly he woke, the gentle murmuring of the respirator filled the air, somewhere he heard a droid beeping and whirling to itself. He slowly opened an eye. He was still in the dim room, the lighting was now white, low and originating from the floorboards. Very slowly he tried to move. Muscles screamed, joints ached as he attempted to move his body. He licked his parched lips, terrified to move further. Pain he remembered pain.

 

Opening his other eye he stared into the dimly lit room. He barely remembered the room; he didn’t know why he was here. He did remember the pain. He shuddered. He wanted to move, but did not know what would bring the pain back; he did not want to revisit it.

 

Staring into the vast blackness of the room, his eyes adjusted. He saw a bed, a large bed it took up a section of the room. He squinted trying to look into the darker depths of the room. He was not able to make anything else out. His eyes ached from the effort.

 

There was a bed that meant that this was a bedroom. Someone’s bedroom. He inhaled deeply, ignoring the ache in his chest. The muted smell of stale perfume and recycled air filled his nostrils, he tasted the dried blood on his tongue. Something was wrong, why was everything so sedate, so stagnant? What was going on? He inhaled again frustrated at his inability to smell anything of note. This had happened before; he tried to remember.

 

White blinding pain erupted behind his eyes. He gasped choking on his breath. A strangled cry pushed through into the darkness. He gripped his head curling tighter, blinking trying to clear his blurred vision. Another wrenching scream fled his throat; it pounded through his head growing in intensity as it echoed through his aching skull. Whimpering he tried to push through the pain. He couldn’t everything throbbed, it touched everywhere; dragging flaming jagged claws over and through him. It clawed at him; in flashes of white, it ripped through his mind. Another hoarse cry flew through his raw throat, it had no voice, the pain robbing him of sound but he still felt it. It blew through his body, through the room, through his skull, building until he felt everything break and the world went black.

 

~*~*~*~

 

A beep echoed through the darkness, another chipping beep followed. He shuddered; he was waking up. No, no he tried to force himself back into the dark void but light began to grow in the room. Blinking he opened his eyes and stared into the darkness. He whimpered. He didn’t understand what was happening to him any attempt to think anything through resulted in that bone numbing pain; he realized that now.

 

He clenched his eyes shut. He waited, he waited for the white explosion, but it did not happen. He wrapped his aching arms tighter around his body, curling up against the warmth-leeching cold of the floor. He focused on it, afraid to think of anything. His body ached, his wrists were so swollen and they throbbed, fighting against the tight metal bolted around them. He was cold, so cold, it was seeping into him from the floor. His clothes provided no protection, he tucked his chin to his chest, pulled his legs closer, refusing to acknowledge the pain as he moved.

 

He tried to keep his mind blank, he thought of only the cold, ignoring everything else. He should move, try to find a warmer spot. It might help the ache in his body to be off the cold floor. No, he curled up tighter, he had fur that would have to suffice, he did not know who or what owned that bed. The cold was starting to numb his side. He wished it would numb all of him, freeze him, and send him back into that black sensationless void where he felt nothing.

 

How long he lay there thinking of nothing he did not know. He slowly moved his hands, gritting his teeth, ignoring the tremors the abused muscles sent through his arms. He moved them along his battered body, his ribs had been cracked, at least three of them on the left side of his chest. He felt massive bruises above and on his kidneys, his legs ached the right one throbbed every time he moved it, the bruising was extensive and his knee was twisted, he cautiously explored his face, his jaw ached, he felt more bruising, he slowly felt his teeth, at least none were loose. His fingers touched fresh wounds on his forehead and above his eye; pulling his fingers away he felt blood.

 

He brought his bound wrists to his face; he could smell blood, so much blood. It coated his sinuses. He also smelled a hint of decay, the wounds were getting infected. Cautiously he licked his right wrist, pain radiated through his hand and shot down his arm. Closing his eyes he swallowed, he had to try to clean it somehow, whoever had done this had abandoned him here and he doubted he was going to get any medical treatment. Gently he tried again, his rough tongue licking the edge of the shackle.

 

It was a mostly fruitless endeavor, they were bolted to tightly to the joint but he had found the infected cut. It ran along the length of his left wrist, thankfully it was next to and not under the shackle, he was able to lick it clean. He cradled his hands against his chest, at some point he had started crying, he did not know when. He saw no point to try to stop them; the tears dripped down his face, the quiet plop they made as they hit the floor somehow comforting.

 

He listened to the noises around him; trying not to think, just identify the foreign noises, as long as he did not think the horrible pain stayed away. The beeping droid whirled to itself as it traveled outside the room; it was a little droid, probably a mouse droid. He swallowed trying to ignore the significance of that detail. The gentle hum of the respirator drifted through the room, followed by the drying blast of artificial heat being pushed through the ventilation.

 

Heat. He looked up trying to locate the ventilation cover; it was located over the bed. He peered around the dimly lit room; there was another ventilation grate along the floorboard. It was integrated into the lighting, but it was there. He closed his eyes and inhaled, the sinus drying heat blew out of the grate.

 

Gathering his aching limbs, he forced himself onto his hands and knees, stifling a scream when he moved his twisted knee. Heat. He gritted his teeth as he forced his body to move, dragging himself along the floor until he reached the ventilation grate. He put his face to the grate thankful for the heat pouring out. Collapsing back on his side he held his freezing hands up, growling as the hot air blew on his wounds. Heat. He enjoyed it as it slowly warmed his frozen body. Pulling his legs back up to his chest he moved until the vent blew directly onto his back. Somewhere in the back of his mind he questioned why it was still blowing, but he wished it would never stop, the warmth crept through his body, chasing away the freezing chill. As the room’s temperature increased he became drowsy, he didn’t care, he closed his eyes surrendering to the lulling call of sleep.

 

~*~*~*~

 

An urgent sense of alarm pulled at him, demanding he wake up. Struggling to wake up he heard voices, frantic voices. They were hushed but their tone didn’t hide their urgency.

 

“Why is he in here, why? He... he was in the medical bay, why on the Force is he in here?” It was a woman.

 

“I don't know Master he shouldn't be, last I saw he was on a med bed asleep.” Another woman, she sounded younger.

 

Something touched him, he felt something touching him, he fought to wake up, his body sluggish to respond. A low hissing filled the air; as his clothing was moved, his limbs shifted. He howled as his non-responsive body was moved against his will. A wave of confusion crashed over him, stopping the two women.

 

“I don’t understand it, why... his pain... why isn’t he in the tank?”

 

Another wave of confusion rolled over him so thick it was almost tangible, he struggled to make sense of it, to push through it. He wanted to get away from these women. The touching resumed; fingers it felt like fingers, everywhere they touched caused pain.

 

“Aric, come on Aric, wake up... what happened, why are you in here? Aric...” the voice grew more frantic.

He tired to move away from the probing fingers, the frantic voices, the over-powering confusion; it hung heavy in the air around him.

 

“Come on Aric, wake up, why are you in here? Why are you still shackled and wearing those clothes?”

Struggling he managed to crack open his eyes.

 

He heard them gasp, he pulled his aching hands to his chest, trying to cover his body. Why did they keep touching him, couldn’t they tell it hurt him?

 

“Aric talk to me tell me what is going on...”

 

He gritted his teeth trying to move, his battered body refused to comply.

 

“Aric please, please....” the woman was fighting back tears, he heard the restrained sobs, as her breath hiccuped.

 

Again those damn hands touched him, he watched the blurry image of the two kneeling women. The pale one had her hands on his chest trying to remove his shirt. He growled pulling his arms tighter.

 

“Please Aric,” she pleaded, “please I’m only trying to help, what happened to you?”

 

He growled. Squinting he forced his eyes to focus. A long low hiss escaped his ravaged throat, before him knelt two black robed figures. When his eyes locked onto the telltale sabers he growled, tightening his grip across his chest.

 

“Come on please,” she was almost whimpering, her hands gently clasped just above one raw shackled wrist. “I have to help you, please.”

 

“Stop touching me, leave me alone,” his mouth ached; all he could taste was dried blood.

 

“What...”

 

“Heard me, leave me!” He howled. “You sick twisted... I don't know... what you are doing... but you won’t …”

 

“But Aric … I don't... please... please...”

 

“Don’t touch me!” He roared, pouring everything he had into it. He watched in surprise as the women's hair blew backwards. The older one, the redhead, held her hand up as she shook her head. She scrambled backwards.

 

“You karking... I know what, you, are. Get away,” he howled, his throat burning in protest. “You have done enough... you bloody Sith!” He roared again, all of the agony he felt seemed for a blessed second to disappear as he channeled it. The redhead kept her hand outstretched, the vocalized scream seemed to come alive as it flowed over her, not touching her as it was deflected by a red glimmer.

 

“Aric,” she stared at him, “I … I didn't do this, let me help you. Please, you were hurt they hurt you.

 

He howled, “No, go away... you did this Sith... You.”

 

“No Aric I didn’t,” the redhead crept closer. “I wouldn’t, what happened to you? What did they do to you? I would never hurt you, you're my Husband.”

 

“No,” he growled, “get Away! You did... You did this you... you twisted liar. What game are you playing... I am not mated, much less to something,” he spat, “like you. Stop, stop calling me Aric, who the frack is Aric.”

 

 

 

 

AN

There was not a prompt used when I wrote this. *So I thought there wasn't a prompt, but when I was editing a chapter I saw the prompt listed in the original document...

The Prompts are Worst Day Ever and Paying the Piper. Sorry about that.

 

Edited June 25, 2018 by Kitar

[frauzet]

I admit I was confused at first, and then a bit shocked. Didn't see that coming. Poor Aric. I hope we'll get him back soon.