Warning: I wrote this story in my language by myself. GEMENI translated it to the English version and fixed it a little bit by me :P. Hope you don't mind it. If the translation is weird, please feel free to tell me. I'll try to fix it.
Characters: Darth Marr & Jedi Youngling (6 yrs old Vencenri)
Just want to write some fluff things.
Though he probably will throw the Youngling to Korriban in reality lmao. But I can still dream.
He didn't stop the Youngling's curiosity, allowing his much smaller hands to touch the edge of his helmet, exploring every seam on the metal surface. From behind the mask, he watched the Youngling's earnest face, intent on exploration and thought, as his fingers, gently applying pressure in an attempt to open his helmet, made rustling sounds that reached his ears from the surface. Releasing one hand to support the Youngling's weight in his arms, he extended his free hand and gently grasped the Youngling's hand, guiding that curiosity to a corner of the answer.
"Try again," he said, his tone as commanding as usual but softened considerably for the Youngling.
The Youngling tilted his head slightly and explored for a moment longer, finally stopping at one spot.
"Is it?" the Youngling asked softly, his tender voice subtly seeking the Dark Lord's permission.
"It is," the Dark Lord nodded, his hoarse, muffled voice dispelling the Youngling's hesitation.
Without a moment's hesitation, the helmet hissed with the unique sound of changing air pressure under the Youngling's press. He remained expressionless, as if nothing had happened, watching impassively as the Youngling carefully held the mask that had covered his face to his chest, then met the inexplicable, utterly satisfied smile that bloomed on Youngling's face from gaining the truth.
I am hopeful that those of you who know me will vouch for my credibility in the days to come. I stand this morning with a difficult message...
ANDOR | 2.09
Lana Beniko–With her serene and considerate manner, one might mistake Lana Beniko for a Jedi. She is, however, a Sith Lord of great wisdom and strength who has impressed many of her peers in a considerably short period of time with her keen insights into the nature of the Force.
It was Beniko’s treatise on the perceived moral parallels of Jedi and Sith in battlefield settings-as well as her passion for unraveling the truths and secrets behind the Jedi-that brought her to the attention of Darth Arkous of the Dark Council. She has since become his most trusted advisor.
With the Revanite plot thwarted, Darth Marr recognized Lana’s talents and appointed her head of Sith Intelligence. Unfortunately, her first assignment as minister ended in disaster when the Sith Emperor consumed all life on Ziost. Since Arcann’s rise to power, she has been on the run, devising a plan to find the one person who can return order to the galaxy…
An Unexpected Ally-While no SIS database appears to mention Lana Beniko by name, further scrutiny might offer a glimpse into the psyche of this unusual Sith Lord. As detailed in an incident report, a skirmish on Hoth between Republic and Imperial forces during the Treaty of Coruscant ended abruptly when an unidentified female Sith Lord leapt into the midst of the battle, demanding an immediate ceasefire-and an explanation for the fight. When an Imperial officer suggested she wouldn’t understand to nuances of military conflict, he lost his right hand to a lightning-fast lightsaber strike.
The Sith, whose reported appearance closely matches that of Beniko, then told everyone to return to their bases and not reengage. The command was promptly obeyed by all, and the Sith Lord was purportedly never seen by Republic forces again.
Warning: I wrote this story in my language by myself. GEMENI translated it to the English version and fixed it a little bit by me :P. Hope you don't mind it. If the translation is weird, please feel free to tell me. I'll try to fix it.
Relationship: Theron Shan / Vencenri (SWTOR OC)
Inspire from: "One Night in the Dealer's Den", "Regrets"
Original Language
【After That One Night.】
“You’re too big picture, Shan. Head always in the stars. There’s no point in saving the skies if you forget the little people on the ground. Take the time to get to know the people around you. Could save your life.”
Theron Shan temporarily put down his datapad, placing it on the bedside table, and instead picked up the nearby whiskey bottle, pouring himself half a glass. The pain from the bruises and dislocated joints caused by the Houk began to throb as the painkillers wore off. He clicked his tongue, wryly noting his incompatibility with the Houks, recalling how he had been badly beaten by a Houk years ago on Nar Shaddaa. He took a sip of the golden liquid, letting the burning sensation slide down his throat, then closed his eyes to meditate briefly—he wasn't Force-sensitive, but his past training had taught him this technique. Although he couldn't use the Force to heal himself like a Force Healer, it was enough to alleviate his physical pain.
He took a deep breath, trying to separate the pain from his senses to reduce the discomfort, so that his unexpected night in the Old Galactic Market wouldn't be too unbearable (why unexpected? All thanks to Jonas Balkar's relentless pursuit of drinks and the undercover operation that turned him into a punching bag). He opened his eyes again, picked up the datapad, and activated the visual interface on his retina through his implant, calibrating and inventorying his weapons and equipment. This nightly routine didn't take him too long. He blinked, noting the schedule with the Supreme Commander of the Republic displayed on his visual interface. Calculating the travel time, he abandoned his original plan to return to his office on Coruscant, deciding to meet the Supreme Commander the next morning.
He took another sip of his drink, pondering the Supreme Commander's reasons for taking the time to dine with him. Was it to inquire about the Yavin 4 operation? Or was there another Sith Lord he needed to deal with? He didn't intend to consider anything beyond work-related matters. Although his relationship with his father, Jace Malcom, had gradually improved since their acknowledgment of each other, their conversations and meetings were still few and far between.
They were always too busy, dedicating their entire lives to the Republic, knowing that one day they would disappear silently into the galaxy, becoming one of the names on the Coruscant memorial or buried in the data records. Forming a closer relationship was too cruel—perhaps. But year after year, his thoughts had already turned elsewhere, no longer seeking to illuminate the shadows of his childhood to fill the void. For him, Jedi Master Zho, whom he considered his true family, had returned to the Force, and his only concern was tied to his missions. As for Jace Malcom and Satele Shan, his feelings for the former were too unfamiliar, and for the latter... his thoughts on Satele were more complex than anything else, especially as it had become more apparent in recent battles. So, if there was to be a final regret before facing death, it would probably only be that he couldn't witness the peace of the galaxy.
He stared at the image on the datapad, pulling up the accumulated data on the simultaneous betrayals of high-ranking officials in the Republic and the Empire, Revan and the Revanites, the return of the Sith Emperor... He checked for any flaws in the operations, preparing for any questions the Supreme Commander might ask.
As a large amount of data ran through his eyes, he couldn't help but pause on the holoimage of the Jedi Master, his one of partners who always hid his face under the brown robe.
He leaned back against the pillow, gently swirling his glass, and studied the vaguely visible face. He had always been curious why someone who was already a Jedi Master would choose to keep their Padawan braid. Such trivial matters were usually not recorded, and a sudden curiosity led him to speculate. But considering this Jedi's past experiences and the style of his robes, he could actually come up with a reasonable answer, but he wasn't sure if this Jedi was as emotional as he imagined—
He lowered his head, trying to see through the shadows in their eyes, his hand touching the other man's right cheek, pushing back the brown hood, and playing with the slender braid between his fingers. His fingertips slid down slowly, untying the thin string, and the dark hair immediately fell loose.
The gentle curve of the other's lips, slightly surprised, caught his attention, and he involuntarily leaned in to press his lips against them. The other's hands then climbed up his neck, without any extra movements, just resting there, gradually tightening into an embrace.
He pulled back from the kiss, looking into those half-open green eyes, seeing the peace he had once sought.
Downing the whiskey in his hand in one gulp, he stopped himself from continuing to recall the events that occurred with the other on Yavin 4. The other was, without a doubt, a very typical Jedi. According to records, he had been in the Jedi Order since birth, then sequentially became an Initiate, Padawan, Jedi Knight, and now a Jedi Master. During their collaboration, when he looked at the other, from the inside out, he completely conformed to the general perception of a Jedi.
They also never explicitly stated their relationship. It was just an unspoken understanding that what they had was a temporary indulgence after one arduous mission after another. As an agent and a Jedi Master who shouldn't be entangled in emotions, erasing emotional ties was, in many cases, one of their duties. He shouldn't have any expectations about this, let alone the uncertainty of whether the two would ever meet again in the future. After all, their missions always teetered on the edge of life and death. The probability of people like them maintaining an relationship was so low that he didn't even want to entertain any assumptions. He forcibly cut off the visual interface, closing the datapad before his gaze became completely fixed on the Jedi Master's file.
The glass was placed aside, and he closed his eyes to sleep, reasonably suspecting that the Jedi Master, who maintained a calm demeanor at the time, had actually used mind control on him in secret. Therefore, he was convincing himself to return his thoughts to the galaxy and ignore the expectations that had emerged from his exploration of the other.
This Jedi Master's abilities were merely beyond his expectations, temporarily and successfully breaking through his psychological defenses, nothing more.
-
【Many Years Later.】
Nar Shaddaa.
Once again.
He couldn't help but ponder the depth of his connection with Nar Shaddaa, but considering that SIS had long established a base on this neutral planet, it wasn't surprising that he would visit multiple times. Although his authority had been greatly restricted after the Ziost Incident, it was precisely because of this that when the Galactic Republic and the Sith Empire were forced to sign unequal treaties with the Eternal Empire, and SIS's operational rights officially ceased, he was able to leave SIS against the objections of others and throw himself into the rescue operation organized by Lana Beniko.
He still remembered the news of the Jedi Master's death reaching his ears after Darth Marr's flagship was destroyed by an unknown enemy in Wild Space. The sudden emptiness in his heart prevented him from sleeping soundly no matter how many glasses of whiskey he drank at night. He regretted not contacting the Jedi Master even once more. The irreplaceable void was thus closely linked to the unresolved mystery of Satele Shan's disappearance.
Amidst the endless, chaotic battles against external enemies, he learned from Lana that the Jedi Master was carbonized in Prince Arcann's treasury rather than dead. The hope that had been gradually obscured by nothingness instantly sprouted, enveloping the chaos and helplessness, and inspiring him, who was not good at writing letters, to rewrite countless letters, unsure if they would ever receive a response. It even led him to unhesitatingly mention in the letters the unspoken care and relationship between himself and the Jedi Master.
It was the first relationship he had ever eagerly tried to hold onto.
He stepped off the taxi. Nar Shaddaa was experiencing its signature acid rain, and the smog remained as thick as ever. He walked swiftly into Promenade to avoid the rain, passing by fellow pedestrians also soaked by the rain. The dim steel walkway was gradually illuminated by the neon lights of the central area. The dazzling light involuntarily made him squint at the enormous Hutt golden statue, so extravagant and lawless that it truly defied all laws.
At this moment, a small notification appeared at the edge of his retinal interface. He blinked and looked at the message, and amidst confusion and nervousness, he quickened his pace again, heading towards the Slippery Slopes Cantina.
-SOS!!!-
This didn't seem like a signal the Jedi Master—the current Commander of the Alliance—would send him in an emergency. In his experience, it was usually a harmless joke message from the other person. However, given his cautious nature, he would always treat it as the other's call for help, just in case.
He curved his lips slightly and quickened his pace, passing through the entrance of the Slippery Slopes Cantina. Before long, he saw the Commander of the Alliance and his former SIS colleague in the corner of the bar, and this instantly froze the smile on his face.
Jonas Balkar was talking animatedly, almost glued to the Commander's side. The latter seemed to be reflexively leaning away, holding a glass of wine and pretending to drink to avoid the overly intimate distance. With a tense expression, he quickly approached the two, placing a hand on the table.
"Jonas Balkar," he said, calling out his former colleague's name in a low voice, his face stern.
"Hey, Shan. You finally made it!" Jonas Balkar greeted him with his trademark smile, ignoring his gloomy aura. "Have a seat. The Commander and I were just talking about the old days in the Old Galactic Market. We're at the most exciting part now."
Before taking his seat, he gently grasped the Commander's wrist. The latter couldn't hide the smile and switched seats with him, allowing him to position himself between the two.
Jonas Balkar gave him an intriguing smile and nudged him with his elbow.
"What?" He glared at Jonas and took a sip of the Commander's unfinished drink.
"Nothing. I'm just relieved to see you're still as brood as ever."
This made the Commander chuckle inadvertently.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, look. I, Jonas Balkar, am as charming as ever. And you, Theron Shan, are as melancholic and worried as before." Jonas Balkar put his arm around his shoulder, gesturing exaggeratedly. "If you were to become as charming as me, we'd have overlapping roles! Right, Commander?"
Jonas suddenly turned to the Commander, but he straightened up to block the man's view.
"I don't need to be a flirt like you."
"Oh—really? From what I know, you're the one who finally stopped looking at the stars and went to the ground to nurture a blade of grass".
He silently gazed at Jonas Balkar's smiling eyes.
"And quite a large blade of grass at that—"
"Uh, shut up—" He suddenly felt his face flush and, flustered, turned to the Commander, meeting that consistently gentle smiling face.
The Commander reached out and unexpectedly pulled him into their embrace, hiding his reddened face.
"Stop it, Jonas," the Commander said, his tone still gentle without any reprimand, yet firm and unwavering. "He's my man now."
Damn it, his face was definitely even redder now.
He immediately broke free from the Commander's embrace and saw Jonas half-raising his hands in surrender through a nearby metal reflection. He cleared his throat to regain his composure.
"You heard the Commander. We should talk about serious matters."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say." Jonas chuckled meaningfully again, steering the conversation towards the cooperative relationship between the Eternal Alliance and the Republic.
-
"You know, I'm happy for you," Jonas said, raising his glass and lightly clinking it against his. A crisp sound rang out. "I'm glad you took my advice."
"Oh, yeah," he said, sipping his whiskey and glancing at the Commander, who was communicating with the Sith advisor not far away. "I have to say, it was quite useful. Thanks."
Jonas made a sound of agreement and quietly drank his wine with him.
He focused his gaze on the Commander, and couldn't help but think of the advice Jonas had given him years ago, urging him to maintain contact with the people around him instead of solely focusing on his goals. He had received help from many people, far beyond what he could obtain from the contacts he made during missions. Besides his relationships with Satele and Jace Malcom, being able to work alongside Lana towards the same goals was another, not to mention the Commander of the Alliance before him, who had given him a true sense of belonging.
"Shan".
"Hmm?"
"Cherish these things," Jonas's tone was as calm as ever, but he could hear the weight in his words. "That way, you can continue to look at the stars and save the sky with peace of mind."
"Never pegged you as sentimental." He chuckled lightly and finished his whiskey in one gulp.
"Mhm." Jonas Balkar also finished his last sip of wine. "Keep that between us."
Warning: I wrote this story in my language by myself. GEMENI translated it to the English version and fixed it a little bit by me :P. Hope you don't mind it. If the translation is weird, please feel free to tell me. I'll try to fix it.
Relationships: Scourge / Vencenri (SWTOR OC)
"What's that?"
"An Imperial new type of truth serum."
"Why do you have that?"
"I have my ways."
"I'm not talking about that. Why do you need truth serum?"
"The answer is obvious, Jedi. Unless you're as foolish as ever."
"It was foolish of me to agree, my Lord."
-
"I'm surprised. You were persuaded to take the truth serum, yet you were able to resist its effects and side effects."
"I'm not sure if you're praising me right now, or subtly calling me foolish."
"You've reminded me of something, which confirms my hypothesis."
"What?"
"Any truth serum is ineffective on you because your foolishness prevents you from providing any useful information."
"…… Very funny, Scourge. Very funny."
Warning: I wrote this story in my language by myself. GEMENI translated it to the English version and fixed it a little bit by me :P. Hope you don't mind it. If the translation is weird, please feel free to tell me. I'll try to fix it.
Relationships: Theron Shan / Vencenri (SWTOR OC)
【Then】
"If both I and innocent civilians fell into the sea, who would you save first?" He leaned against the tactical console in the Alliance base, watching his Commander with interest.
"Are you serious, Theron?" The Commander stopped his work with a smile. "I didn't know you'd ask this kind of question."
"Just want to hear your answer."
"Well, of course, I'd save the civilians first." He pondered for a moment and said, "I know you can swim."
"Hmph…" The agent pouted and nodded.
"Not satisfied with the answer?"
"I thought you'd say you'd save me first."
The Jedi offered a wry smile.
"Just kidding." Theron turned to face the tactical console. "Though I hate to admit it, I do hope you wouldn't even consider saving me first."
"Is that so?"
"Because same here."
【Now】
"If both I and innocent civilians fell into the sea, who would you save first?" The Alliance spy looked at the holomap on the tactical console and suddenly threw out the question.
"Are you serious, Theron?" The Commander gave an awkward smile, pausing his finger on the datapad, and repeated the response from his memory.
"Just want to hear your answer." Theron shifted his gaze to the Commander, continuing along their shared memory.
"Well, of course—"
"—I'd save you."
"Theron?" The smile on his face froze due to the unexpected interruption. He finally raised his eyes to look at the face that had been watching him for quite some time.
"I'd save you." Theron repeated, his tone heavy and firm as he gazed into the Commander's eyes.
The Commander responded with a strained, wry smile, hesitant to speak.
"I'm serious." The spy turned back to the tactical console. As before, he looked up at the constantly changing holo. "Though I hate to admit it, I still hope you wouldn't even consider saving me first."
Warning: I wrote this story in my language by myself. GEMENI translated it to the English version and fixed it a little bit by me :P. Hope you don't mind it. If the translation is weird, please feel free to tell me. I'll try to fix it.
To give you some background, these stories were written many years ago, at a time when it wasn't yet possible to romance Scourge. (Not including the final one.) Therefore, Vencenri was with Theron before Scourge's return. In fact, I've always created stories with the setting of the three of them being together. (Of course, their relationship is only Scourge→Vencenri←Theron, and does not include Scourge / Theron.)
【Then - When Scourge was still by his side.】
"What are you doing?" He looked down at the crouching Sith Lord.
"Nothing." The Sith Lord replied. "Did you find the target?"
"Found it." The Jedi laughed and put away the telescope. "Let's go, it's time for battle."
-
"Hoth is still so cold."
"...Your way of putting it is strange, Jedi."
"If only it could get warmer."
"..."
-
"Jedi." The Sith Lord said. "Your lips are too dry."
"Doesn't it feel good to kiss, my Lord?"
He ignored the Jedi's teasing, opened the medicine bottle in his hand, dipped his finger into the ointment, and applied it to the Jedi's lips.
"What is this?"
"Minerals found a few days ago, ground into a powder and mixed with some herbs to make an ointment."
"Unexpected."
The Sith looked at him questioningly.
"I didn't expect you to use this kind of skincare product."
"This is medicine."
"Mm-hm." The Jedi chuckled. "Thanks, Scourge."
The Jedi left a transparent mark on the Sith's face.
【Then - When he became the Commander of the Alliance.】
"Ven." The spy said. "Your lips are too dry."
"Doesn't it feel good to kiss, my agent?"
"Yeah." He touched the Commander's lips. "It would be better if you took care of them. They're chapped."
The Jedi chuckled a few times.
"Doesn't it hurt?"
"Not as much as I thought."
"Let's see if we can find something like lip balm when we get back."
"...No need." He said, "It'll get better on its own."
【Current - When Scourge finally returned to his side.】
His Jedi was once again caught in a cycle of forgetting to eat and sleep.
Scourge gazed at the face intently listening to everyone's requests, watching the Jedi bite his lip, touch his chin thoughtfully with the back of his finger, and then open his mouth to propose a temporary solution, inadvertently licking his parched lips afterward. He leaned back in his chair, continuing to focus his gaze entirely on the Jedi Commander, which made several Sith present uneasy, and even the seemingly calmest Sith advisor couldn't help but glance at him.
Anyone who had survived in the Sith Empire was almost certain to know his name – the Emperor's Wrath, the executioner of the Sith Emperor. Even though that was in the past, his every move still made these Sith fearful.
He chose to ignore the unrest of others, focusing only on the Jedi in front of him who had been trying to ignore him since the beginning of the meeting. After a few minutes of stalemate, the Jedi finally offered a wry smile and concluded the meeting.
"Someone's in big trouble." After the crowd dispersed, the spy placed the device in his hand into the Commander's hand, then leaned against the table, laughing gleefully.
"I'll drag you down with me, Theron." The Jedi Commander retorted grumpily, "I'll say you're my role model."
"Then I have to run quickly." Before the Pureblood Sith approached them, the spy lightly squeezed the Jedi's shoulder as a sign of sympathy and comfort, and then, as he said, picked up the holocomm and pretended to be busy, fleeing the scene.
The Jedi took a deep breath and looked up at the approaching Sith whose face was stern.
"I promise I'll eat and—"
The words were immediately stopped by the Sith's actions. The Jedi was somewhat surprised as he felt the other's touch on his lips, and in the next second, he recognized the familiar scent.
The Sith's finger, coated with medicine, gently rubbed the Jedi's dry lips. The stimulated wound caused the latter to frown and hiss in pain, only then realizing that the injury on his lips was not as good as he had imagined.
The Jedi blinked as he watched the Sith carefully apply the transparent ointment to his lips, recalling a similar scene from a long time ago on an icy planet, and chuckled.
"I didn't expect you to carry this kind of skincare product."
"I said it's medicine." He lowered his hand, rubbed away the remaining ointment on his finger, and glared at the smiling Jedi. "After so many years, you still haven't improved, Jedi."
"Really? Scourge? Just because I called it a skincare product?"
"Yes." The Sith stared straight at the Jedi's face. "And—"
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