Corso makes his way back into the main room of Port Nowhere where there is a meeting of underworld bosses. Pisses off some random gangster. Gangster tries to hit him. Corso simply responds with a grin. “I wouldn’t do that if you value life.” Gangster gets angrier “what are you going to shoot me or something.” Corso laughs “I could, easily. But I’ve learned something over the years I don’t have to. You so much as jostle my hair, I won’t need to shoot you. She will!” Gangster tries for a snappy comeback only to find a blaster in his face held by a furious Leikael. Corso smirks as he stands next to her with an arm around her waist and a hand on her hip.
He used to be more easy going, used to be more protective. But watching Kael go off on everything that made her mad and never being able to talk her out of it means that now he just backs her up and revels in being her man while enjoying the view.
Theron watched Darth Imperius as she spoke to Lana and her apprentice Ashara. He couldn’t help, but find the Dark Council member interesting. She wasn’t the first Dark Council member that Theron had met, but she was the oddest.
Darth Imperius seemed to be kind. She was willing to work with the Republic. Not to mention she seemed to have no problem taking orders. She spared people without prompting and didn’t seem nearly as threatening as she should be. Darth Imperius seemed content to sit silently while Lana, Theron, and Jentinn came up with plans. Not to mention the off handed flirting she shot his way. Theron didn’t know what to do with that.
When Theron had learned that he was going to be working with Darth Imperius he had done research on her and her crew; Khem Val, Andronikos Revel, Ashara Zavros, Talos Drellik, and Xivhkalrainik. Khem Val was a dashade that once served Tulak Hord. Andronikos Revel used to serve in the Republic military then he became a pirate. His crew then mutiny and he met up with Darth Imperius back when she was an apprentice. Ashara Zavros was a Jedi youngling that Darth Imperius manipulated and turned into her apprentice. Talos Drellik is a lieutenant in the Imperial Reclamation Service and helped Darth Imperius find ancient artifacts. Xivhkalrainik or Xalek was captured by a Sith during a battle and taken to Imperial labor camps. He was strong in the force so he was taken to Korriban where Imperius took him as one of her apprentices. Darth Imperius on the other hand there is nothing known about her past life. Even her species is a mystery, depending on the text she is either a Pureblood Sith, Human, or Chiss.
Theron caught himself staring at the Dark Lord. He shook his head and looked back at his work. Ashara broke away from the group and walked towards Theron. She sat down in front of him. The young togruta smiled at him slightly.
“Has the Captain responded yet?” Ashara asked and Theron shook his head.
“No she will let us know once she finishes attacking the supply cache.” Theron said and then the terminal went off. Theron snorted at the Voidhound’s timing. Lana, Imperius, Ashara, and Theron walked over to the terminal. He answered the call and a holo of the infamous Captain Jentinn Riggs appeared in the pirate get up that she had bought for this occasion.
“Their caches are ash. Hey that rhymed.” The Captain said
“Nice work.” Theron said
“We believe that one more attack should solidify our pirate feud and disguise our true goal.” Lana said
“I heard one of the Nova Blades mention a slave camp. Is it right for me to assume that’s my next target?” The Captain said
“Slave camp?” Darth Imperius asked and she straitened in interest. Ashara had this look on her face that was a mixture of fear and horror. Theron wondered if it was the Nova Blades or the Tagruta’s master.
“You remember me saying that the Nova Blades basically run things around here? For the most part they are pretty hands off. But if someone stands up to them or fails to pay their fees to live? The Blades grab them and ship them off to the slave camp.” Theron said
“The slaves are a substantial part of the Nova Blades’ income, both through their labor in hazardous mines and as merchandise for offworld slave trades.” Lana said and the air seemed to get cold. It seemed to come from the Darth.
“Not any longer. I will deal with the slave camps alone.” Imperius said
“Master…” Ashara started but Imperius lifted her hand. This motion seemed to silence the apprentice.
“Of course, my Lord. We don’t know the exact location so you will need to stow away in a supply crate.” Lana said and this caused Jentinn and Theron to frown. They looked at eachother. The two Pubs seemed to agree that it was a bad idea to send a Dark Council member to the slave camp.
“Shouldn’t I be doing it. After all I am the one we are pretending is a pirate.” Jentinn said with her arms crossed.
“I am going this is not up for discussion.” Imperius snapped and walked out of the room. Ashara smiled sympathetically and shrugged. She then followed her master.
“This isn’t going to end well.” Jentinn said
“I have faith in Darth Imperius.” Lana said
“Well, I don’t.” Jentinn said and she hung up the holo. This left the two remaining members of the team in silence.
“Imperius is going to kill everyone there.” Theron said
“Do you really think she will?” Lana asked and she returned to her work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Theron had sliced into duos’ com. She may show mercy when she was watched, but that doesn’t mean he should trust her to do the right thing. They didn’t seem to talk much as most of the sound was just fighting.
“Were you really a slave once? I just can’t imagine you in one of these cages. I can’t imagine you… helpless.” Ashara asked and Theron froze. Suddenly it made more sense why she took so much interest in the slave camp.
“I rather not talk about it.” Imperius said
“Of course, Master.” Ashara said and the two sith went back to silence.
“I see you're stalking a Dark Council member. Isn’t that a death wish?” Jentinn said from behind him. Theron turned around quickly to face the Crime Lord. She was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
“Only if you get caught.” Theron said and Jentinn snorted.
“Find anything?” Jentinn asked
“Nothing.” Theron lied and Jentinn frowned. “There is something about her, but besides that I can’t say anything for certain.”
“I have a feeling that this is going to go real bad real quick and one of the Sith are going to be in on it.” Jentinn said
“I’m not going to let my guard down.” Theron said
“Good, cause I know you are sweet on the Darth.” Jentinn said
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Theron said and Jentinn smirked.
“Sure, sure and you totally don’t have a crush on her.” Jentinn said
“Don’t you have anything better to do than bug me?” Theron asked annoyed and her smirk seemed to have grown.
If you reblogging that list was requesting prompts, I aim to provide! How about “aspectabund” for Ca’ii/Arcann?
Ca’ii is telling me something about this opera she likes, and I should be listening.
I should be, but I can’t get over how her eyes are shining with excitement, her mouth curved upward as she chatters about how romantic it is that the protagonists were willing to throw over societal approval in pursuit of passion - something I’ve gathered is simultaneously anathema to the Sith (for all of their talk of freedom, they are very beholden to authoritarian strictures) and entirely within their ethos (the pursuit of freedom and not being beholden to said authoritarian strictures).
She sits perpendicular to me, her legs draped over mine as she leans back against the arm of her couch, gesticulating while reciting the fictional lineage of Varius quicker than she could likely recite her own, and it’s so easy to see how I could love her. I could watch her talk about the things she adores for the rest of my life. I feel the words crowd my closed mouth, pile up behind my teeth, shouting to be spoken into one of Ca’ii’s pauses, to see those electric blue eyes widen, her full lips part in shock.
It’s easy to see how I could love her, if love was a luxury meant for my life.
But it isn’t, and her shock would turn to revulsion, or worse, distant coldness, and I couldn’t bear the winter of Ca’ii’s withdrawal after feeling how the sunshine of her soul warms my own.
So I stay, as unworthy as I am, basking in her unfettered enthusiasm and her unconditional friendship, and I tell myself it is enough.
Koth had never been rough with a woman before. He just wasn’t that kind of a guy, but he’d also never run through the backed up sewers of a planet while being chased by giant rodents before, either. “Do you know where you’re going?”
“Who’s the better navigator, here?” Hirani shot back as she ducked a duracrete foundation without warning Koth to do the same. He narrowly missed braining himself.
Something skittered to the left, and Koth heard the sound of metal scraping dirt. They were gaining, but he couldn’t get a bearing on where while Hirani wheezed like she was about to keel over. “Hey, slow down.”
Hirani glanced over her shoulder, pink lekku sliding free as she laughed. “Can’t keep up?”
“Listen,” Koth hissed, then put on a burst of speed to wrap his arms around Hirani from behind and pinned her to the wall. She cursed, so Koth slapped his hand over her mouth. “No, really, listen.” Her nostrils flared with anger, and he ignored it.
Steadily, the sounds grew until Hirani stopped breathing altogether. Chattering echoed off the walls, making it impossible to pinpoint where it was coming from. He still had Hirani sandwiched between his body and the wall, lost in the effort to figure out where the attack would originate. Then the hollow thumps of paws against dirt passed, and Koth let out a long breath.
Pain stabbed through Koth’s hand with such intensity that he swore and jerked back, wondering what hellish creature had taken him. “You deserved that,” Hirani snipped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Koth blinked at his girlfriend through the gloom. He really shouldn’t be surprised. “I was trying to help.”
“Well, next time, don’t.” Hirani flipped one lekku over her shoulder and sashayed back the way they’d come. Koth made a choking gesture after her, then sucked on his sore palm. He wouldn’t ask if Twi’lek carried any specific diseases that he should be vaccinated for. No man was that brave.
This is the last thing he hears: Her voice hoarse with pain and with calling to him yelling, "I love you. Please."
Theron wakes up to the sound echoing in his head and rolls out of bed to let the cold refocus him. He still thinks he might be sick.
He spends enormous amounts of time ignoring all the ways this can end in her suffering more. Her life was full of it before she took the mantle of Commander and it's only grown worse since then. And now Theron has added to it.
But he has goals and he learned the hard way to focus on those to the exclusion of all else. Even the hurt in her voice everytime she speaks now. She's never shown it before, never been this openly vulnerable.
He knows he's taken something from her that she can't get back. Even if he just goes back and apologizes and lets her forgive him, he's taken something from her that she will never, ever have back. It's part of what keeps him going. The damage is already done.
He can't fix it anymore. The only way left is forward.
Jentinn glared at the nav computer infront of her. She didn't want to go back to Tatooine. She had already been there once after she left. The last time it was for profit and this time it was for generosity. They were going to try and find a Twi'lek named Jettison. Why did everything come back to Tatooine?
She heard Corso's footsteps approaching her. She wiped away her glare and returned to her neutral face.
"How far are we from Tatooine?" Corso asked and Jentinn straightened.
"A couple hours." Jentinn said with a shrug.
"You're not happy about going to Tatooine." Corso said and she shrugged again.
"Do you really think that anyone is happy to go to Tatooine? All there is is sand, sand, and Tuskan Raiders." Jentinn said
"I think it's more personal than that." Corso said and Jentinn looked over at him.
"Got me figured out, do ya, farm boy." Jentinn said sarcastically
"Maybe I do." Corso said and Jentinn snorted.
"Keep dreaming, farm boy. I am far more mysterious than you think." Jentinn said
"Maybe, but I think I'm right about Tatooine." Corso said and Jentinn looked forward at the blurry stars. She shrugged.
"I spent part of my childhood there." Jentinn said
"Why didn't you mention it the last time we were there?" Corso asked and Jentinn snorted.
"Tatooine isn't exactly homy. It's the planet you live on if you have no other choice." Jentinn said
"Why were you on Tatooine then?" Corso asked
"My mom abandoned me there. Tatooine isn't kind to orphans." Jentinn partially lied.
"I'm sorry." Corso said and Jentinn shrugged.
"It's the past and I'm over it." Jentinn said looking at Corso.
"So you don't have any family?" Corso asked
"I don't need family. I have my crew and that is enough." Jentinn said
"That seems lonely." Corso said
"It's easier not relying on people or being hurt, feeling loss." Jentinn said
“That didn’t stop you before.” Corso said and Jentinn shot him a look of confusion. "Relying on me, Risha, and Aozun." Jentinn shrugged.
"Sometimes it's necessary." Jentinn said and Corso frowned.
"I think you want to have someone to rely on." Corso said and Jentinn snorted.
"Are you volunteering?" Jentinn asked
"Maybe I am. After all I'm going to owe you after this." Corso said and Jentinn frowned.
"You don't owe me anything. You're a part of my crew, that means I'm happy to do this." Jentinn said
"Even when it involves going to a planet you hate?" Corso asked
Finding clothing options for Arcann that are less distinct and less fraught with unhappy memories than his Zakuulan armor takes longer than Ca’ii expects - Sana-Rae has a surprising number of opinions about fashion - and she turns up in her quarters later than planned. She notes the undoubtedly cold dinner on the table with some dismay as she sets the bundle of assorted garments on the foot of her bed, her attention almost immediately sliding to the man asleep on her couch.
As usual, Arcann looks ready to spring awake at a moment's notice, fingers curled lightly around the hilt of his lightsaber and one foot touching the floor. He sleeps like this anytime he's in Ca'ii's room; she wouldn't be surprised to find out that it's also like that in his own quarters.
He’ll only sleep on the couch, even when she’s offered him the bed on the nights he shows up looking particularly drained; she hasn't asked why, though she's dying to know. Something about the way he demurs always stills the question before it can pass her lips.
She bustles around the room, making no effort to be quiet.
Ca'ii learned early on - the first night he dozed off watching some ridiculous show on the Holonet with her - not to awaken him from too close; at the touch of her hand on his shoulder, he'd startled awake and had her restrained in a headlock before she could gather her wits and before he'd even fully woken up. He'd apologized profusely; she'd laughed it off with a wave of her hand and then, seeing his continued consternation, had promised to be more careful in her endeavors to wake him.
"I shouldn't stay if this happens."
He'd stood, crossing the room with purpose, but Ca'ii had darted past him, blocking the door.
"It's fine." She'd laid a hand on his chest, and she shouldn't have done that, not with how his heart is hammering under her palm, racing like he's just been terrified out of his wits.
Not with how she wonders how this would feel if there wasn't cloth between her skin and his.
"I'm fine." She'd grinned. "I'm hardly a delicate Alderranian flower. I've been put through worse."
"Yes… by me." His eyes, which had remained downcast, conducting an intense study of the myriad scars on his hands and forearms, met hers. "I can't hurt you again. You're too -"
He'd stopped, shutting his mouth on what he wanted to say, and for the first time Ca'ii had really noticed how close they were.
"Please, Arcann," she'd said. "I'd like you to stay."
I'd like you to stay, I'd like you to wrap an arm around my waist, I'd like you to kiss me.
He'd held her gaze, and Ca'ii is still sure she wasn't imagining how the silence grew charged, is still sure that if she'd leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, he wouldn't have pushed her away.
“If you want to, that is,” she’d said.
"I do," he'd finally said, slowly. "Perhaps I shouldn't, but I want to."
"Then stay with me. After all, we're friends." Never did she think she'd hate the word friends but oh how she loathes it now, how it tastes like ash in her mouth, how she wants so much more but with everything he's dealing with she'd feel weird and manipulative pushing for something when he's vulnerable. "Friends can get through misunderstandings, right?"
He'd let her lead him back to the overstuffed, oversize couch, let her pull him back onto it, though he'd sat rigidly until she bumped a shoulder against him.
"Hey."
"Hmm?"
"No other shoe is gonna drop," she'd said, his look of shock a sure sign she'd correctly guessed why he was being so distant. "I'm serious. It's fine. I didn't know, though I should have been more perceptive." Indeed, knowing how he grew up and how he got where he was then and is now, this should have been easily avoided. "Now I do, and I won't put you in that situation again."
"We're good?"
"On my honor."
That single eyebrow arch that Ca'ii both hates and really likes in equal measure. "Your honor… as a smuggler."
"Which is worth far more than my honor as an upright member of the Republic, thank you very much."
"I suppose," he'd said, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh with her - because with Ca'ii he allows himself all the touch he seems to have been denied across the years - as they'd settled into the overstuffed couch, "that that will have to suffice."
Hunt Log: Side Notes and Journals
Sighting: Port Nowhere
I’ve never been the damsel in distress type. If I get myself into trouble, then I damn well will get myself out. Rogun’s goons had us pretty well pinned down, and I’ll be the first to admit that it didn’t look good. Tables were strewn everywhere, people clearing out as fast as their hyperdrives would let them. Then, the doors blew open and I saw the most beautiful man alive rush in behind a cloud of flash grenades.
Torian wielded his electrostaff with a skill unlike any I had ever seen. It took me a few minutes to remember where my trigger finger was. At least, until that bastard tried to knife Torian in the back. I took him out, then broke cover to help. The relief in Torian’s eyes when I put my back to his made me feel…I can’t even write it. It’s still too soon for such talk.
Anyway, when Torian followed me back to the ship, I thought we were in for some celebratory shenanigans. But no, he wanted to teach me how to fight properly, as if I couldn’t handle myself. Damn boy wouldn’t take no for an answer. Couldn’t even be bribed…
“Come on, Blondie,” Sadio crooned. “I could think up a lot more ways to pass the time than sparring.” Her smile weakened Torian’s resolve until her bangs shifted to show him the black eye she’d sport in the morning. A black eye she might have avoided had that sucker punch not gotten past her guard. Not even her advances would make him second guess this choice. Torian wouldn’t sleep until he knew that his woman could defend herself against everything.
“This is important.” Sure, they could be wrapped in Sadio’s sheets, enjoying the seven-hour flight to meet up with Wanda, but Torian couldn’t shake his dread. The image of what might have been if he hadn’t chosen that particular time to visit had branded itself in his mind. Torian would never be able to live with himself if something happened to Sadio, and proper training could have prevented it.
An unfamiliar pair of boots caught Torian’s attention. Glancing over, Torian caught sight of Corse and Bowdaar chatting with a female Zabrak. He’d met Akaavi in passing, but the woman made it known that she had no interest in Torian or the fact that they were both Mandalorian. Not that he blamed her. Clan Spar had been betrayed, slaughtered. Still, it angered him that the woman didn’t see the need in ensuring her captain could adequately protect herself.
Turning back to Sadio, Torian hooked his thumb at the trio. “I’m surprised none of them have taught you.”
“The cranky Zabrak?” Sadio puffed a laugh. “For the time being, we leave her alone. Well, Risha and I do. Bowdaar’s in love, maybe Corso too.”
Torian glanced at Sadio’s feet. “She where you got the cetare?” He smirked when Sadio leaned forward to see her boots. While they hadn’t seen one another for three weeks, Torian made sure to contact Sadio whenever the chance arose. He’d never had someone to call before; not even Corridan was interested in a simple chat. The young Ordo never slowed down, ready to pursue the next big hunt. It was different with Sadio. Sometimes they didn’t even talk, simply soaked in each other’s presence from parsecs away. As such, Torian memorized everything about her. The beskar boots were definitely new.
Sadio grinned, golden eyes shining through black makeup. “Nah, I played Sabacc with some Mandos after they’d had too much tiharr.” Torian frowned, and Sadio held up a finger. “Now, hold on. I gave back the rest of their clothes, but these fit too perfect to give up.”
“Worried people are going to shoot your toes off?” What good would the boots do Sadio if she insisted on wearing that thinly lined vest as her only protection? When Torian assured her that they could make her armor with more pockets than she could find things to stuff in them, the woman refused to be moved. It made his gut draw tight when he considered the ambush they narrowly escaped on Port Nowhere.
Sadio’s light chuckle softened Torian’s mood. “With the group I run with, you never know.” She lifted a boot and pointed inside. “This thing has two holsters. Two! And the heavy toes will aid me in haggling.”
Torian raised both hands. “Fine. I concede.” He started towards the cargo hold and waved for Sadio to follow. “Take those off before we start.”
Sadio huffed as she clomped behind Torian. “Why do we have to do this again?”
“Because you need to know how to fight.” Before Sadio could argue, he turned to pin her against the wall. “You’re a hell of a scrapper, but can you fight?”
Sadio tried to shove Torian away, but he set his stance. “My boots would come in handy here,” she groused while Torian shook his head.
“You need to know how to win against a larger opponent even if you’re naked,” Torian answered, keeping his tone calm. He bent his knees to look Sadio in the eyes. “Do this for me.”
Letting out a sigh, Sadio nodded. “Fine.” Her expression turned playful as she walked two fingers up Torian’s forearm. “We doing this naked then?”
Torian matched her smile. “Maybe later. For now, removing any armor should be enough.”
Torian didn’t pretend to be immune to Sadio’s attempts at distraction. He watched openly as she unbuttoned her vest and let it slide to the floor, even chuckled when a simple shake of her ample hips dislodged the belt and holsters. Sadio kicked the items away, leaving her in a pair of leggings and undershirt.
“Now what?’ When Torian took a step closer, Sadio held up a hand. “No, I know that undershirt is armored. Off with it.”
Torian smirked and pulled the kute off. When Sadio’s eyes traveled lower, he snapped his fingers to pull her attention back to his face. “If I take those off, I will be fighting naked.” The grin that split her face was almost enough to make him consider it. “Focus now, play later.”
Sadio was not a willing student, and thus each move had to be explained multiple times. She swung limply, laughed often, and groped more than anything. Torian decided to pin her again to see what she remembered, but her instincts kicked in too early.
Sadio cursed when she dodged into Torian’s fist and stumbled back with both hands folded over her mouth. Torian moved forward to get a better look at when he’d done when white-hot pain shot through both legs. His knees locked, and Torian staggered back. A heavy, crushing force slammed into his calves a second before the Mandalorian landed on his ass with an undignified grunt.
Standing at his side, looking as smug as a small, annoying droid could, was Phil. The miniature defender clicked clawed hands while chirping in a shrill voice that made the back of Torian’s teeth ache.
“Spunky,” Torian observed, not for the first time, while rubbing his still spasming calves. An arc of electricity shot between Phil’s claws, and Torian understood. Turning a stern look on Sadio, he tried to hide his amusement. “You electrified him?”
When Sadio lowered her hand, it revealed a thin line of blood on her upper lip. Nothing bad enough for Torian to worry about, but the outcome of a misplaced parry and sharp teeth. When she grinned, the split widened. “You’re the one who called me a scrapper.” Squatting, Sadio patted Phil on the head. “Scrappers fight dirty.”
