Star Wars: Eclipse (TheCorsair and Xana)

[Xanaphia]

Despite the fact she considered herself ready to die in that moment, Kaydia gasped urgently as Quentin released her, coughing as her body fought for precious air. She hadn’t expected to sway him with her gesture, hadn’t intended to try. Just a desperate attempt to find some forgiveness in her final moments. But then his remorse mingled with her own, and the weight of how he had wounded her was added to the burden she carried over her own manipulation of him. Quentin held her close and apologized, and she was crying, and he cried alongside her.

She let herself feel the sorrow she had been avoiding. Instead of pushing it down, or smothering it with drugs and sex. Things weren’t supposed to go this way. When they left Mustafar, they were happy and in love. They were excited by the possibilities that lied ahead for them, freed from the burden of secret identities and buried pasts. And now here they were, the worlds shattered, their beliefs rocked and challenged.

“No Quentin. I hurt you. Misguided or not, I hurt you. What happened to me doesn’t excuse what I did. You were right to be mad, to feel betrayed. I’m no good for you.” She pulled away from him now, as hard as it was. As much as she just want to rest in his arms and feel his protective embrace. Still, she looked into his eyes, heavy with sorrow and despair, reflecting her own pain.

“Maybe…maybe there is a good reason the council forbids love among the Jedi. Maybe we were arrogant to think that we were above it all, arrogant to think we were better than it. I was ready to let you end it because assaulting you was the second worst thing I’ve ever done. I’m scared that I am going to ruin you, if we stay together.” She silenced him was a finger against his lips, a finger that moved to caress cheek and wipe away the fresh tears.

“You shouldn’t trust me, because… I killed Master Ki-Adi." She let the truth hang in the air, pulling her knees up to her chest, feeling fresh guilt wrack her. "Linora is right. I’ll never be anything but Scarlet.”

 

[TheCorsair]

Ashamed of himself, now, Quentin held her closer. "No," he murmured, "that's not true. Anyone can change, Kaydia. Anyone." He forced a grin he didn't feel. "Admittedly, killing your own Master..." The grin faded quickly. "No, I'm sorry. That's..."

He lifted her chin, and kissed her gently. "And I already know you did," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "I've been in your mind, remember? Felt your memories, just like I'm sure you've felt mine." His hands stroked her back, feeling supple muscle roll beneath smooth skin and clinging fabric. "I'm a killer as well, for all that I've tried to kill for what I hope are good reasons. The Code says that a Jedi uses the Force for defense, never to attack. But... well... we both know how well that works out in practice."

He kissed her again. "And maybe the Council forbade love for a good reason. Or, at least, what they thought was a good reason. But... you know what? I don't care." Pain shot through him then. Not physical pain, but emotional pain as he flashed back to her betrayal of him in Linora's cell. "I don't care," he murmured, pushing the memory away. "Because... because you tried. Even when you thought you were just Scarlet, you tried. Tried to help me. Tried to save me."

Something stirred in his blood as the memories of his rape flickered at the edge of his mind. "Because... I love you," he said, kissing her again. "Kaydia or Scarlet, it doesn't matter." Another kiss, this time deepening as that something stirring in him blossomed into a flame and his lips forced hers open so his tongue could thrust deep into her mouth. His muscles shook with the effort of restraining himself as he pulled her body tight against his, feeling her contours against his seperated only by thin, wet cloth.

"Because I want you," he hissed, eyes filled with hunger as he pushed her back so her ass rested against the lip of the tub. Hands which had been gentle only moments before became possessive, tracing and gripping her flesh with a desperate urgency. His cock pressed into her as he pinned her against the tub, grinding against her slit in time with the tongue that drove deep and hot and wet between her lips. "Now," he growled, gripping her face and kissing her again, ravishing her mouth with his desire. His hands slid down her throat and between them, cupping and molding to her breasts. "Now, hot and wet and hard, Kaydia."

Cloth screamed as his fingers gathered in the fabric of her dress and pulled, tearing the wet fabric to her waist. Rough, hard hands cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples, and his teeth tugged roughly at her lower lip. "I want to hear the infamous assassin Scarlet scream my name."

 

[Xanaphia]

She could feel the fervor, the hunger, the desperate need in his mind. The need to push back against his despair, going from rage to lust, adrenaline fueling his touch. His desire was infectious, even as much as she might have tried to push him away, to try to save him from loving her. She couldn’t fight it; she didn’t want to fight it. She wanted him, wanted his love, his embrace, his body against and inside hers.

She gasped as he forced open her mouth, forced open her mind. His consuming longing, threatening to consume her, hands and fingers and mouth, demanding her, more of her. She would have given her life for him, if it would have helped him, if it would have washed away the pain she caused. Even as his hands slid down her throat, over the fresh bruises he had given her, there was no question about whether he would have her. She would not deny him anything. Ever.

“Quentin,” She gasped, voice made harsh as he pinned her to the tub. It almost hurt, how hard he held her, grasped her, felt her. Almost painful, but it didn’t matter. She craved this, craved him, and desired to give him everything.

Trembling, as she felt his hardness brush against her sex, nothing separating them but consent. A shuddering cry filed the bathroom as he tore open the dress, not scared, not very scared at least, but shocked by his passion more than anything. Fair skin flushed as he mauled her, her moans reflecting his handling of her.

Her position was precarious , hovering just over him, the friction of her body pressed into the tub wall was the only thing in-between them. But she was soaking wet, and the water was sloshing about them as he ripped off her clothes, and everything was slippery, and –Kaydia gasped loudly– suddenly he was filling her. The hips smacked together in a wet crash, and he was fully sheathed within her.

“Fuck…Quentin,” she groaned, her forehead pressed against his, taking a moment to adjust to his girth stretching her, filling her, completing her. She could feel him throbbing, felt herself tensing , and she devoured his mouth in a kiss the reflected the longing he had demonstrated so far. It was hard to tell who started moving first, but the water spilled out of the tub in bucketful as they moved together, and against each other. Hips meeting, clashing, an intricate dance of animalistic carnality.

“I love you,” She sobbed out. “I love you.” An explanation. “I love you.” A confession. “I love you.” A supplication. “I love you.” An ecstatic exclamation that echoed through the ship, repeating forever.

 

[TheCorsair]

"That's it," Quentin gasped, driving himself into her. "Let me hear you."

Her mouth found his, devouring him as his fingers slipped over slick, wet skin to take a bruising grip on her hips and ass. His moan of pleasure was a hungry snarl as he pistoned into her, the air filled with the wet slaps of flesh agai st flesh and water splashi g from the tub as they moved together.

"I love you," she sobbed out, voice thick with words that dripped with truth and desire. "I love you."

In response he shifted his grip, hands slipping under her thighs to lift her higher. "I know," he grinned, hunger in his voice. He pressed into her, cock driving into her depths as his teeth found her throat. "But you're... talking... too much..." he growled.

Without warning he pulled out, aching for the tight heat of her sex as he did. He spun her around, pushing her down and pgripping her wrists, pinning her hands to the edge of the tub as his steel-gard meat throbbed against the curve of her ass. "I'll make love to my sweet Kaydia later," he hissed into her ear, nipping sharply at her lobe. One hand trailed up her arm, groping a breast before spreading her slit and sinking into her lubricated depths. "But right now," he said, cock moving against her ass, "i wanf my Scarlet to beg me to fuck her."

The finger in her cunt began moving, thrusting in and out in time with the rock hard meat grinding against her ass. "Beg me," he growled, teeth scraping the back of her neck. "Beg me to fuck you."

 

[Xanaphia]

A whimpering cry of loss left Kaydia’s lips as Quentin pulled out of her. His own need to feel her was layered upon her need to have him inside, and his absence within her was nearly unbearable. The feel of his body pressed against her back, wet and hard and hot, was a small relief from her longing, and sweet torture all at once. His cock pulsed against her as he made demands, demands she wouldn’t dare deny him. Even more, she couldn’t deny him, she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her. More perhaps, to know he still loved her, to know he didn’t hate her. To know she hadn’t destroyed what they had.

Her hungry cunt swallowed the finger her offered. A pale imitation of his cock, he mocked her further, moving the digit at the same pace of his body against her. “Fuck me,” she gasped out, swaying hips in unbridled yearning. “Fuck me, Quentin,” she cried, tensing around the finger that slid in and out of her. “Please, please, please…” there was no performance in her words, no pretense. Raw honestly, unfiltered need fueled her words, and her struggles. “I need your cock. I need you. Fuck me!”

His hard meat was torment, so close to her insatiable sex. He controlled her position, holding her hands down and pressing that luscious body against her. Still, she squirmed, she bucked, she writhed, desperate to have him inside again, filling her once more. “Please, Quentin, please…”

Her mind was a confused mixture of her need and his lust, and feeling his emotions in her mind amplified hers all the more. Was it his Jedi training that afforded him such restraint from just fucking her mad? A fierce need to feel control? Still, desire threaten to overtake her mind, might have already overtaken her mind, had already overtaken her senses. She didn’t hold it back. She let that lust that burned her from within pour out of her mind, until it was nearly a physical presence on her skin, as real as his skin on hers.

Her mind, her body, her voice begged him. Pleaded, implored, beseeched, prayed. “Quentin, please…I need you to fuck me. I need your cock inside me. Please…”

 

[TheCorsair]

It took all of his training to not just fuck her then, when she bucked back against him. The feel of her mound cupped in his hand, of her slit sucking and milking his finger as worked it in and out if her was indescribable. And the firm globes of her ass grinding against his aching shaft as she pressed it back against his stomach threatened to send his seed spurting over her back at any moment. Which was a thought that nearly made him go weak at the knees, imagining his milky cum streaking her body and dripping down her thighs...

"Quentin, please..." Kaydia moaned, her lust coating his mind like warm honey, "I need you to fuck me. I need your cock inside me. Please."

There was no resistance as he entered her - she was so slick from his cock and his finger and the blood-warm water that his entire length drove balls deep into her in a single thrust. "FUCK!" he roared as her inner muscles clenched around him, gripping him with an almost intolerable slick heat. "So... fucking... GOOD!" His hands, rough and hard from decades ow weapons training, gripped her hips hard enough to leave red marks as he began to move. His thrusts were fierce, almost violent, and his fingers dug into her flesh as he slammed into her. His biceps bulged, jerking her ass back against his stomach with each thrust, using her dripping cunt for his own pleasure.

"You like that, don't you?" he growled, letting his raw animal hunger for her flow from his mibd with every word. "Like being spread open and impaled on my meat, don't you?" Every word came out as a gasping grunt, in time with his pounding thrusts and laced with primal lust. "You just love being my fucktoy, don't you Scarlet?"

He released her hips, twisting the fingers of one hand in her copper hair and palming and squeezing a breast with the other. "Tell me!" he demanded, opening his mind to her. As he pulled, forcing her body to arch back against his, he let her feel her own body through his. The firm softness of her own breast as she (he) squeezed it with her (his) hand and pinched the nipple. The silk of her own hair wrapped around her (his) hand and the supple strength of her own back and rear poessed against the lean muscle and heat of her (his) chest and abdomen. The velvet liquid heat of her own sex clenched around her (his) aching, rock-hard cock as she (he) pounded harder and faster into her, staving off her (his) orgasm through sheer force of will.

And then, suddenly, her (his) lips weresoft on her own ear as she (he) stilled her (his) frantic motion. "Tell me," he whispered, love shining through and shaping his frenzied hunger. He shook with the effort of holding himself motionless within her bidy. "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."

 

[Xanaphia]

A throaty yell filled the room as he filled her once more, her entire body quivered under the weight of her desire. Under the weight of his desire, speaking to her, calling to her, from his body and his mind. Pain, pleasure, it was all the same as Quentin gripped her, plowed her took every inch of her and drove every inch of himself within her.

"You like that, don't you?"

“Yes,” she exhaled, moaning, lost in the bliss of being his.

"Like being spread open and impaled on my meat, don't you?"

“Fuck yes!” She growled, as his stroked found an especially sensitive spot within her.

"You just love being my fucktoy, don't you Scarlet?"

“Yes! I fucking love it! I need it. Fuck…use me Quentin,” she roared, throwing her head back in utter abandon, meeting his hips with her own. Then his hands were in her hair and on her breast, cock hilted completely within her.

"Tell me!"

“I love...fucking you…feeling you…Having you…” Anything else she might have said was cut off by the sensations flooding her mind, feeling her body and his, feeling him inside her body and mind, feeling herself through his senses. As she could do was cry out in wordless bliss as she felt everything, how good he felt, how good she against and around him.

She let him feel everything she did. His hard body against hers, his thick cock, pressed into her walls, fricvtio0n building her to orgasm. Let him feel the flutter of release, clenching and contracting, and trembling around his own cock, as euphoria radiated from her core. The combination of their shared pleasure, their shared bliss, the perfect completion of their joint bodies, was nearly enough for her to lose her mind. She wasn’t even sure would have minded, after this moment, the thought of parting from him seemed nearly painful.

"Tell me you need me as much as I need you."

“Quentin,” She sobbed out happiness and regret, and need poured out into his name. “Don’t leave me,” She begged, selfishly, knowing it was better for him to get far away from her. Knowing he would be better off without her, but needing him all the same. “I need you.”

 

[TheCorsair]

Quentin uttered a strangled cry as her release surrounded him, nearly overwhelmed him, and it took all his training to not follow her into his own orgasm. He concentrated on his name from her lips, on the whispered plea and confession that she needed him, and ignored the burning demands of hus rock hard meat within her. "I need you," he whispered, trembling and shaking as his nerves shrieked at him for release. "No matter what..."

It was an effort if will to withdraw from her, even for the amount of time it took to turn her to face him. His tingue filled her miuth as he pulled her against him, wrapping her legs around his hips as he filled her once more. "No matter what," he repeated in a strained voice as he moved within her in long, slow strokes. His arms slid around her waist, letting her lean backwards as he slowly caressed her inner walks with a rigid, pulsing cock. "And you think too much."

In the position she was in, leaning back with her arms gripping his shoulders, her magnificent breasts were like offerings to him. He accepted gratefully, taking one rock-hard nipple in his mouth as his hips continued to stroke into her depths at a deliberate, measured pace. "Stop thinking." In. "Trust your feelings." Out, and his breath was hot on her damp nipple as his tongue circled her aureole.

"Open yourself."

In, and his teeth scraped over her nipple.

"Let go."

Out.

"Trust yourself."

In, and a strring of saliva stretched from his lios to her breast as he looked up at her.

"Let go."

Out.

"Cum for me."

In, and his mouth covered the peak if the breast he'd neglected.

Cum for me, Kaydia, his mind whispered, the words carried on a wave of trembling near orgasm. Cum for me.

 

[Xanaphia]

Kaydia didn’t fight him as he pulled out and turned her around again. A desperate tongue met his as he kissed her, seeking out the taste of his desire. Shuddering, as he filled her once more, her all-consuming need weighing her down, as she arched back against the edge of the tub. Then his mouth was savoring her breasts, and he was speaking to her. Commanding her, hypnotizing her with the deliberate and intense motion of his cock pushing in and out of her.

It was easy to lose herself to rapture, easy to follow his instructions. Everything the in universe fit in that bathtub, as he fit perfectly inside her. He was all that existed, all that mattered. His body, his mouth, his eyes staring into her depths.
His mind and his pleasure, enveloping her, submerging her, swathing her.

There were no words, no protests or proclamations, just meaningless sounds of ecstasy and flesh. Trembling she reached for his face, her other hand clinging to him, fingers bruising his shoulder as pleasure overcame her. Gasping, moaning, crying, eyes never leaving his, opened wide, wild and rapidly losing focus. Her entire body responded to him, begged for his touch, back arching her breasts against his face, legs holding him within her core.

There was no holding back the onslaught of exultation that consumed her and dripped from her slit and pores. Panting hard as it moved through her, blood like fire as it coursed through her veins. Euphoria was writing pink on her skin, added to the red marks he had left on her in the course of their frenzied fucking.

 

[TheCorsair]

It was too much She was too much. Rational thought fled as she drank in his desire and returned it to him mingled with her own. The feel of her body against his, around his, moving with him drove him to a near frenzy. His teeth bruised the flesh if her breast and throat as her nails dug i to his skin, the stinging pain accentuating the pleasure as he abandoned restraint and drove himself hard and deep into her waiting sex. Animal cries of passion burst from his lips, and a possessive flame burned in his eyes.

"Fuck," he grunted, the words just meaningless sounds. "Fuck... Kaydia... yeah... fuck!" He felt his pleasure building, balls tightening as tlhe pounded into her with increasing force. Finally, with a gutteral explosion of sound, be sheathed himself deep in her slit and screamed his release as his cock throbbed and erupted, coating her walls with his seed.

---

"Bitch."

Linora swore without heat, too drained by the numb agony of withdrawl to work up much enthusiasm. "Traitorous cunt," she hissed, wishing she could reach the water dispenser. Overcoming chemicals took a toll on the body, because they had to go somewhere. And so they went in breath and sweat and piss, and niw she was parched and civered with sweat and really needed a toilet.

Maybe it was a kindness that her clothes had been left in Quentin's cell? At keast they weren't sticking to her flesh.

"Whore," she mumbled.

She wasn't going to kill Scarlet for this - she still had feelings for the sultry crimson-haired assassin, after all. And she didn't begrudge her conflicted feelings for Quentin, either. Hell. She still had them herself. But Scarlet would have to be disciplined for her betrayal...

A small flush of heat coiked through her crotch at the thought, and she licked her parched lips. The withdrawl must be winding down, she decided, if she was beginning to feel turned on.

Soon. She just needed an opening...

 

[Xanaphia]

In the wake of their climax, Kaydia clung to Quentin, shivering and trembling, unwilling to let him go. Unable to let him go, in the aftermath of their fucking, in the intense outpouring of emotions that passed between them. Part of her was scared, scared that everything he had said to her was in the heat of the moment. Scared he would come to his sense and realize the truth of the words she had spoken to him before they had fucked. But it would have been difficult to ignore the love and need pouring from his mind to hers, radiating from his very being. There was truth to his words, truth she could feel, and couldn’t deny.

"Tell me you need me as much as I need you."

She clung to the words, clung to him, needy in ways she couldn’t give words to. But she knew he would sense it, feel it, understand it. She didn’t always feel comfortable leaving her mind so open to him, but know, as connected and completed as she felt in the moment, she was grateful for it. So she rested against him, even as the water grew lukewarm, just reveling in the sensation of his skin on hers, and his heart beating in his chest and the occasion meeting of their lips.

“I want to try and get clean, again,” She admitted, after some time. “I don’t know what you plan now, with Linora, if you are going to try and take her in to stand before the council or what. But I hope there is a future for us somewhere in there. “

The ship came out of hyper drive now, and as much as she might have wanted to rest in his arms some more, there were things to do. And the memory of what happened to them the last time they put carnal wants before paying attention to their surrounding prevented them from continuing to cuddle any further. So Kaydia go up, and looked down at the ruined remains of the one thing Linora owned that actually fit her. Nothing left but to discard it, and slip into one of the too big flight suits. If they could retrieve their stuff from Procopia, there were plenty of clothes for her to wear, things she hadn’t even had a chance to wear yet.

Fortunately there wasn’t anything to get in the way of landing on Procopia. It took a bit of tracking, but they were able to get their stuff back. The plan was to abandon Linora’s yacht here, so the Black Sun couldn’t track them further, and load her up into Quentin’s Scrapper, to make their way to Coruscant. So Quentin went on to load their stuff up and get the ship ready to launch, and Kaydia went back to the yacht to retrieve Linora.

---

Quentin and Scarlet had been off the ship for almost an hour. They landed somewhere, but it didn’t matter where they were. It only mattered that this was Linora’s chance to escape her bondage. Her chance to begin planning her revenge on Quentin and Scarlet both.

Once she was out of her cell and cleaned and dressed, free form the excess drugs and its lingering effects, she began to plan. Quentin would have to die, no questions about it. Converting him to her cause was going to be more trouble than it was worth, if it were even possible. There was, however, still hope for Scarlet. She was still fiending for Inertia, and she could still be molded into an obedient assassin. Once Linora finished disciplining her. Once she learned her place, at Linora’s feet.

Kaydia was returning, alone. Perfect. Putting up her mental defenses, Linora found a place to hide so she could catch Kaydia off guard.

---

Kaydia made her way back to Linora’s private room aboard the yacht, looking for the Inertia she had found earlier. Except it wasn’t where she left it. Or in several other places in the room she checked. Why couldn’t she find it?

“Looking for something?”

Kaydia froze as she recognized Linora’s voice, terror at its implication filling her. She turned to face Linora, hardly given the chance to see her before a fierce force push knocked her into a wall. Linora’s laughter mocked her as she tripped to get a grip on her situation, tried to fight back against the invisible fingers wrapped around her throat.

“I told you that I’d be out, Scarlet,” Linora taunted, orange hatred burning in her eyes. Kaydia was slammed into the wall again before she could catch her breath. She could feel herself growing dizzy from the lack of air, her vision going dark on the edges of her sight. “And you will suffer for your betrayal,” Linora whispered, coming closer. Anything else she might have said was lost on Kaydia, as she lost consciousness.

---

The yacht was moving again, preparing to launch back into space, back towards Mustafar. Once oxygen returned to her mind, Kaydia woke up to find herself bound. Linora was waiting on her, hands behind her back in a confident pose.

“This flight suit doesn’t suit you any,” Linora declared, smirking devilishly as she ripped it in two. Once more what was bound and exposed, and Kaydia pushed down the memories recalled byt the act. Trying to focus on calling out to Quentin, reaching out to him despite the distance. Still, she could feel the hateful lust surging through Linora, distracting her from her task.

“Enjoy it bitch. Go ahead and get your fill of me, because Quentin already wanted to murder you. You are just going to make it easier for him to.”

“Quentin isn’t coming for you. Don’t you get it, you stupid slut? Quentin used you. He used you to escape, and then used your body for his pleasure. He’s gone, Scarlet. He doesn’t care what happens to you. He never cared what happens to you. It’s why he let pirates rape you.”

She knew Linora was lying to her. Trying to hurt her, leave her feeling helpless and alone, so she would be easier to manipulate. She still felt Quentin’s warmth on her lips and in her mind. His declarations of love and need, his promises. “That’s not–“ She started, before screaming, a familiar sensation coursed through her, pain and pleasure shooting through her body, leaving her shuddering under the traumatic weight of it.

“Hmm,” Linora moaned, licking her lips as her eyes met Kaydia’s again. “The SIN still works. That will be very useful, in time.” She triggered it again, sustaining for several painful minutes as she measured out a dose of Inertia. By the end of it Kaydia’s eyes were too watery to see what she was doing anymore. Then it was just the familiar bite of the needle, and the comforting numbess, wrapping around her so she didn’t have to feel anything anymore.

 

[TheCorsair]

"Yeah, no problem," Quentin said with a smile. "I'll finish getting our stuff back, and meet you back at the yacht." He eyed the paperwork skeptically. "Maybe about an hour?" He grinned ruefully, then gave Kaydia a quick kiss. "I'll see you soon."

She left, and he settled into the routine endorsing documents and completing forms. Recovering the Scrapper was just a simple matter of showing up at the port. But their personal possessions? The ones left behind? The hotel was holding those as security against the damages, and proving that they were the owners and then completing the required police and insurance forms was tedious.

Finally, it was over. He made arrangements to have their possessions returned to the ship, and was just settling his lightsaber and belt onto his hip when it hit him. An unreasoning wash of terror that surged through him like wi,dfire. "Kaydia!" he gasped, eyes wide as he looked around.

Pain. Ghost pain. Hers, not his, and he began running. He took stairs three and then four and then ten at a time, sprinting towards the front doir. Beyond, he ripped a passer-by from a speeder bike and screamed through the streets without regard for traffic or traffic laws. The wash if emotions and sensations reached a crescendo as he roared into the starport, and then stopped with a dread finality.

Gritting his teeth he jumped the bike, clearing a security checkpoint and kniwi g he was too late. By the time he reached the berthing pit, the yacht was screaming starward. "Kaydia!" he screamed, calling on tbe Force to find her. "KAYDIA!" There wax no response. No trace of her presence. He watched the yacht vanish and then sagged to his knees, blinded by his tears.

 

[Xanaphia]

Fresia 18 months later
​

“Hey, watch it!” An angry, dark hair human growled as his beer spilled over the counter of the bar in the Quiet Gem Hotel & Spa. The blonde woman who had bumped into him placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry,” she gushed, reaching over him to grab some napkins to clean up the spill, brushing hefty breasts against his side in the process. “I so clumsy at times.”

Catching the embarrassed look on her face, and the deep lunge leather panel dress she wore, he laughed nervously. “It’s okay, it was just an accident.” He helped her clean up the spill, noticing the deep valley of cleavage her dress afforded her.

“You have to let me buy you a drink,” she asserted, her other hand caressing his arm now as well.

“If you insist,” he agreed, swallowing hard. Her body was just lightly touching his, but it was enough to drain the blood from his brain. “As long as you drink with me. Zerck T’far.” He offered a hand.

“Shadi Hale.”

---

It wasn’t hard to get the man to invite her back to his room. She probably didn’t need to use a force suggestion, but Scarlet wasn’t taking any chances this evening. A couple of drinks and a round of unexceptional casual sex was enough to put Zerck to sleep, so Scarlet could begin her work.

Zerck wasn’t dead yet, but he would be in an hour. Inertia overdose, such a shame. It seemed the drug was everywhere now days. Even on good, honest core worlds. Addiction knows no bounds. Of course, it wasn’t an accidental overdose, but a calculated matter of death. One that was unlikely to attract much attention from law enforcement. Even less likely once she was on camera leaving his room before the time of death, and she spent an hour or so in the bar downstairs, cementing her alibi. There weren’t enough jobs on the small planet to make bribing the local law enforcement worthwhile, so Scarlet had to commit the murder, and slip away with no one the wiser. What the man had done to deserve death, Scarlet didn’t know. It’s wasn’t her job to know, only to kill him. Well, kill him, and retrieve a holodisk.

A brief perusal of his things revealed the target object. She picked up the holodisk, furrowing her brow at the roughly scribbled name on it. Quinn. The name brought up…a lot. Memories, and hope and resentment, and love and loathing. But it didn’t mean anything, most likely. How many people in the galaxy were named Quinn? Sighing, she slipped the holodisk in the pocket of her jacket. It was certainly the disk her client want retrieved. Whatever it contained was worth Zerck’s death.

Covering her hand with a sheet, she measured out the dose, tied off the arm and filled his veins with drugs. Before they could be absorbed into his system she slowed his metabolism to a crawl, turning a process that would have taken less than 10 minutes into an hour or two. It’s wasn’t so different from what Quentin had down for her, when she tried to get clean. He accelerated her metabolism, dilating the blood vessels and capillaries, sending her liver and kidneys into overdrive, to flush the drugs faster. She just went the other direction. It should be enough to throw any inquisitive minds off her trail. Finishing up, she wrapped his own hand around the needle to leave only his own prints on it.

She spent an hour in the bar as Shadi, making sure to leave an impression. Mostly this involved flirting with the bartender in an attempt to get free drinks, obnoxiously enough to be ineffective. After all, she didn’t want to be drunk, just remembered in the bar at this time. Once she sensed that Zerck’s heartbeat finally stopped, she lingered over her last drink before signing the credit slip for her tab and heading up to her room for the evening.

Once she was alone, she pulled out the holodisk, tracing the letters with a finger. It couldn’t be him. The odds were outrageous. She looked over at the data pad sitting on the bedside table. She wasn’t supposed to look at the data on the disk, but her curiosity gnawed at her. What if it was him? It could be dangerous for her, if she wasn’t expecting him. If he came looking for this disk. If a Jedi were going to hunt her down, she had a right to know. It was safer to know, for her, for Linora, for whoever the client was. With those justifications in mind, she loaded the holodisk into her date pad and examined the contents, hoping to find something that would reveal who the intended recipient was. If it was that Quinn.

Invoices, schematics, part lists, receipts. All in reference to some ship, an interceptor. A corporation allied with the trade federation, names she didn’t immediately recognize. Scarlet browsed the files for twenty minutes become becoming frustrated. Corporate espionage, she decided. While it was a hell of a thing to kill a man over, talk of war made the situation tense, and tempers were hair-trigger. Not something Quentin would have been involved with. Relieved and disappointed, she exhaled.

She headed towards the bathroom, stripping out of Shadi for the evening. Quentin weighed heavily on her mind as she did, memories of his face and touch and scent flooding her senses. She turned on the shower to distract herself, but the hot water brought on more memories. He said he loved me, and would never hurt me. And yet he choked me in a tub. He said he needed me, no matter what, and yet he abandoned me to my fate in Linora’s hands. I betrayed her for him, and he never came back for me. So much for his love, his need for her, his promises. What a fool she had been, to fall for it. To fall for him.

She stepped under the stream, hoping to cleanse the grief from her mind. Still, her body remembered him, craved him. Recalled the pleasure he had brought her, even if it was predicated on a lie. She brushed her fingers along her own breast, recollecting how he savored her, his lips wrapped around nipple, drawing the blood to them. Her hands following the trail of his kisses that was left in her memories, until her fingers filled her slit, just the way his tongue had. She leaned back against the wall of the shower, fingers moving within her soft folds, fantasizing about his body, his tattoo shimmering in vibrant blues and reds, glistening with sweat as he leaned over her. How he seemed to fit perfectly within in. How he completed her, how she felt whole when he moved within her. His breath on her lips as he called her name, each time he filled her with his seed, and his love. She was gasping now, louder that the water streaming from the showerhead, feeling him inside her once more, pumping her with all the passion he could muster. As her body clenched and convulsed, shuddering in the bliss only he could bring her, she could still hear his voice, speaking the words she cherished so much.

I love you, Kaydia.

A wordlessly cry filled the bathroom, as tears flooded her eyes as arousal flooded her thighs and rapture released her from it grasp, leaving her empty once more. She finished cleaning herself off and wrapped herself in a plush robe. Settling down in bed, while memories of his skin were still warm on her own, she located her needle amongst her things. He’d be gone once more, just like when they parted all those months ago.

I love you, Kaydia.

She pushed the tip into her vein, and let the numbness sweep away his face from her mind.

 

[TheCorsair]

The planet Tali
8 months later...

"Still mourning, Quentin?"

Quentin Hall looked up from the scroll he had been reading, smiling a little as he took in the pale, squat figure with its ruff of ciliated head-tentacles. Then he sighed as the question sank in, bringing melancholy with it. "Yes, Master Valis. Eight months, and I still..."

Valis Korrin held up a webbed hand in a warding gesture. "You still reach for her, in the Force. I have felt it."

"I've tried to forget her, but-"

"No!" The salamandroid Jedi barked the word. "Love is part of the Force, as is sorrow. Do not forget her. Only do not allow your heart to be ruled by loss."

"But the Code..."

Korrin snorted. "The Code is a hedge about the Way -did I teach you nothing? Have you failed to profit, amongst the Bendu?"

Despite his emotions, Quentin smiled just a little. "I have not forgotten," he said, rubbing his tattoos through the simple robes he wore. "They are part of my own flesh."

Valis came forward, rolling his sleeve up to reveal similar tattoos. "As they are mine, Quentin. Blood of my blood, in a chain of descent from Master to Master that was firged in the dawn of the Jeedai. But the time of mourning must end, my Padawan-Son. A light is lit, and the Shadows gather."

"For the Shadows are the guardians, between the Light and the Dark," Quentin finished, sitting up straighter. "What..."

Valis slung a wrapped tube from off his back and handed it to Quentin. He took it, finding it contained the haft of a double lightsaber, two-thirds of a meter in length. There was nothing odd about the materials, but touching it was lime reaching through a cloud of freezing oil. "The Darkbess..." he whispered. "It reeks of Darkness. But... not a relic." He spun it, noting the balance. "The craftsmanship, and the materials... this is... new?"

The ignition switch reeked of blood and hate, and when he depressed it a meter-long bloody crimson blade ignited. "New," he decided. "But... made to the pattern pioneered by Exuar Kun." He swallowed bile as he shut it down. "Someone is following the designs of the ancient Sith. But..."

"It was recovered from a Sith warrior, slain on Naboo," valis said.

"A Sith..?"

"Yes," Valis grimaced. "Not a renegade, or a half-trained sensitive with a histirical obsession. He called himself Darth Maul." Valis loojed at him hard, glossy black eyes reflecting him. "Find his Master, Quentin. Find where he came from."

"Where do I start?"

Smiling now, Valis produced a hologram of a sleek, dagger-like ship. "With this..."

---

Fresia
10 months after that...

He went by the name of Harlan Kwan-Don, here on this Sienar manufacturing world. Quentin Hall was a wanted dead man, after all. And he'd changed his appearance, using pigment treatments to blacken his hair and darken his skin, and changed exercises to subtly alter his stance and movements. Only his eyes remained unchanged.

Harlan was a Republic Auditor, part of an independent team brought in to review Sienar's accounting practices and adherance to Republic trade and manufacturing regulations. He'd seen a lot of accounting ledgers, but he'd also seen some fascinating developments - like their revolutionary prototyoe Twin Ion Engine fighter.

At some other time, he'd have loved to try it out. But not now. Because Junior Auditor Kwen-Don had no business doing such things. And because Jedi Knight Quentin Hall was busy. Even thiugh, right niw, he was simply sitting in a bar and waiting.

"Where the hell is he?"

He was supposed to be meeting Zerk T'far, a ship designer who was his best lead to who had paid for the construction if the Sith ship. But he'd been a few minutes late, and Zerk was nowhere to be seen. And now...

Now there was a corporate medical unit entering the bar. One with a crash kit. With a sinking feeling, he rose and followed them. "Back here," the owner was saying, "in the private rooms. It's Mister T'far!"

Quentin sighed. "Well, fuck."

 

[Xanaphia]

Unlike Zerk, Scarlet awoke that morning. A bit groggy still, from the inertia she took before sleeping. Her communicator beeped insistently, discouraging her from turning over and getting in another hour or so. Smoothing the wild curls of her hair, Scarlet answered the holocall, not surprised to see Linora’s transparent blue face.

“Were you able to acquire the asset?”

“Yeah.” Scarlet held up the disk, keeping the name written on it out of view.

“Very good, the client will be pleased. The client will be even more pleased if you could see that the intended recipient is fully reimbursed for their trouble.” Linora explained in innuendo, Scarlet understanding her meaning well enough. “They will be paying twice your rate to complete this assignment.” Scarlet kept a stoic expression as she experienced the annoyance of the request, and the meaninglessness of the reward. Since she went back into business under Linora, the Vigo gained complete control over her finances. Oh, the money was Scarlet’s, of course. But she had to go through Linora to access it. Ask permission to use her own money. Yet another way Linora kept her in check. Not that Linora left her wanting for anything, but it felt so patronizing, unable to manage her own money. Whatever was left of it after Linora took her sizeable finder’s fee. It was the way things were now. After she betrayed Linora, it was the least of her degradations. Just another reason not to forget where her loyalties lied.

“Is there any information about the intended recipient?” Scarlet asked, trying to get her head back into her work.

“No. Your payment includes the inquiry, and the delivery.” Linora explained, Scarlet holding back the sigh she felt now. If she had known the client wanted her to hit both parties she would have waited. It was going to be this much harder to take out a second person, especially if they suspected that Zerk’s death wasn’t accidental.

“What if I can’t find them?” she protested, noting the difficult position she was already put in.

“Then come back, in a week. You’ve done what the client needed, anything else is just extra. Besides I…I miss you.” Scarlet wasn’t sure if those last words were meant to be tender or taunting, but they didn’t bring her any comfort in the moment. Now wasn’t the time to contemplate her and Linora’s complicated relationship. Not when she needed to focus on the job.

“I’ll contact you again in a week.” Shutting off the holocall, Scarlet rolled out of bed and trudged over to the wardrobe, planning out her outfit, and her strategy. If Zerk was supposed to meet his contact today, perhaps she could catch him. It was the only real plan she had.

Lorsha would be best, she decided. The kind of woman who blended in, who could move through society with little nuisance. So she donned the black wig and a soft black robe dress. It was long and loose enough she could conceal her lightsaber on her waist. The same lightsaber she carried as a padawan, that had been lost when she was captured and sold to the Black Sun. Tuzza had kept it as a prize, apparently, and Linora had been able to retrieve it for her. The crystal was gone, likely sold for a small fortune , but Linora provided her with a synthetic one. It meant that the blade that had once matched her eyes now matched her hair. She didn’t anticipate needing it, but she felt better having it on her, when possible. She also put the holodisk in one of the inner pockets, knowing that she couldn’t risk losing it. Linora would not be happy if she mussed up the job.

Finishing up her persona with a pair of brown contacts, Lorsha made her way down stairs, just in time to see the medical team rushing in to attempt to resuscitate Zerk . It was a natural reaction to finding a dead body, she supposed, but one that would indeed be futile. The man had been dead for a few hours now. Still, this was her best chance to find the target, noting who took the most interest in Zerk’s demise, subtly probing the nearby minds for surface thoughts relating to him.

 

[TheCorsair]

"Who the flark are you?" asked one of the medics as Quentin pushed in behind him.

"Harlin Kwan-Don," he answered, flashing an ID. "I was supposed to meet Zerk T'far, review sime ot our findings, and I heard his name mentioned. Is he all right?" He clearly wasn't, but the question was there to make him sound less official.

"I'm sorry, Auditor Kwan-Don," the medic said. "Mister T'far died a little while ago."

"How long?"

"Between two and four hours," answered the medical droid examining the body. "An autopsy will be necessary, of course, but preliminary tests indicate heart failure brought on by inertia."

The name of the drug sent chills through Quentin. "Inertia..?"

"Yeah." The medic sounded bored and disgusted. "It's a fad, right now. Small doses can help maintain an erection for hours. But it gets cut with all kinds of crap, you know?" He gave Quentin a sympatbetic look. "Hey, I'm sorry. He's yiur friend, and..."

"No, no," Quentin responded, waving him off, "just a work appointment. But... could I get a copy of the autopsy report?" He loojed at the cirpse. "It may have some bearing on my findings..."

"Sure," the medic agreed. "We'll send it care of the audit committee."

"Thank you," Quentin murmured as he left, hardly hearing his own words. Inertia. He'd been killed by sex and inertia. It sounded so much like Scarlet it hurt. But... she was dead.

Shaking himself, he headed fir the bar. Right now, he could really use a drink.

 

[Xanaphia]

It seemed finding her next target was going to be easier than anticipated. This auditor was the one, clearly identifying himself before the medics. He clearly had no idea how much danger he was in, and Scarlet almost felt bad. Almost. But a quick death at her hands was far more merciful for him that Linora would be to her if she fucked up.

So she sat at a booth in the back, sipping at her coffee, watching him over her data pad. To anyone looking closely, she was a just a woman reading the news over her morning joe. Fortunately like this, in her loose outfit, she rarely got a second look. Which was such a relief from Shadi, and the leers that she could practically feel on her skin as she moved. Sometimes she imagined Lorsha was who she would have become, had she finished her Jedi training. The quiet, perceptive woman who never attracted much attention. But a decade as an assassin assured her that would have been a terrible Jedi.

Like Quentin?

Another burning mouthful of bitter coffee, hoping to wash down his name and face. She turned her attention to the job. The target. He seemed on edge, visibly affected by the new of Zerk’s death. And yet he had said the man was nothing but a work acquaintance. What were they meeting about? She thought back to the files she had skimmed the night before, the files on the holodisk, hidden on her person. Was an auditor involved in corporate espionage? Or were the corporations trying to hide something from the regulatory committees? Worth killing a man over?

It didn’t matter. It only matter how suspicious the man was, over the death of Zerk, and how she could possibly get to him. Seducing him didn’t seem like a good option. These kinds of bureaucrats were always stiff in the wrong ways. She could Force choke him while he ate, make it look like he merely choked on his food. Except, if someone tried to play the hero and give him the Heimlich. She was only going to get one shot at this, and she couldn’t waste it. So for now she would just watch and follow, looking for the most opportune moment to strike.

 

[TheCorsair]

"Whadillbe?" grunted the bartender, a six-limbed spider-thing with an iridescent carapace.

"A pint of the house spice beer," Quentin responded, distracted. This could not have come at a worse time! Dead, and with no reason to suspect foul play. None at all. Except...

Except that he'd seen this exact M.O. before. Seduction and murder. Practiced by a dead woman. Or... maybe she wasn't dead..? But then, why hadn't she found him? Why couldn't he find her?

"Ereugo," grunted the spider thing. Quentin absently took the mug and thumbed the credit voucher, thdn wandered off to a table. Could it be Kaydia? He wanted to believe it, but he knew she was dead. No sightings, no leads. No presence in the Force. And was it so unreasonable that there could be anither assassin in the galaxy that used sex and drugs to commit murder?

No. No, it wasn't. But he couldn't escape the hope.

 

[Xanaphia]

He was having a beer. A bit early in the morning for such a thing, but maybe auditor Kwan-Don was an alcoholic. Maybe the death was bothering him more than he wanted to admit. How often did bureaucrats come into contact with death? Dammit, what was even the point of wondering what was on his mind, when she could just probe him? He was an auditor, not a force sensitive.

Could it be Kaydia?

She nearly gasped aloud at the mention of that name on his mind. Now it was her turn to be shaken up, paranoid. Was it…him? Quentin? She remembered the disguises he wore when they worked together on Mustafar. The auditor was the same height and general build, it could be him, in disguise. Why else would he associate that name with the kill? Scarlet was the assassin, but he thought Kaydia. He was the only person who thought of her as Kaydia.

Shit, this wasn’t good. He would have felt her probe. Would he recognize her touch in his mind? Would he recognize her, like this? Would he remember the persona she wore the day after they stayed up all night fucking each other? What would he do, if he found her? If he found out that she killed his contact?

Panic and confusion and anger and resentment and longing and sorrow filled her, consumed her, as she paid her bill and tried to slip out of the bar without drawing much attention. Focusing on hiding her presence in the force. Long purposeful strides as she made her way out. She couldn’t kill Quentin, could she? Could she take him in a head to head fight? Hard to say, he was well trained and disciplined. Would he even fight back? And wouldn’t that make it harder to kill him. To look into his eyes and see that defeated resignation? Just like Master Ki Adi…

What would Linora do to her if she refused to kill Quentin? She shook, memories and phantom pain overlaid in her mind. She couldn’t let him live, knowing what Linora would do to her. He didn’t deserve her mercy, not after abandoning her. Not after he let Linora take her back to Mustafar so she could…

She had to get away! She climbed the stairs, nearly jogging, unwilling to check and see if he was following. She fingered at her lightsaber, hidden under the thick layers she wore. If he were following, she hoped to lose him on the roofs.

 

[TheCorsair]

...an alcoholic...

Quentin frowned into his mug as the thought crossed his mind. He didn't think he was one, but he was drinking more, these days. Except during his two months with the Bindu, of course. And he'd been thinking more about merakuya, as well. He'd have to warch that.

He downed the mug anyway.

Was it him? Quentin?

This time, he realized the thought wasn't his. It was external. And hauntingly familiar. Heart leaping even as he struggled for comtrol, he looked around wildly, opening himself to the Force as he did. No. No. No... wait! That woman! Kaydia, in her Lorsha persona! Kaydia, or an extraordinary coincidence! He rose, heart thundering in his chest as she disappeared through a service door, and he began to follow.

The stairwell was empty.

For a moment he thought he'd imagined it all. Let the suppressed grief and sorrow and longing mix with the alcoohol. But he caught a whiff of her scent - so faint only a bloodhound or a Jedi could have scented it - and he realized he'd made the most basic of errors. She'd just gone up, and quickly.

He followed, taking the stairs two and three at a time, knowing he'd look a fool and a stalker if he was wrong and not caring. "Lorsha!" he ca,led, in case she neeeded to maintain cover. "Lorsha, wait!"

 

[Xanaphia]

Her heart stopped as he called her name, the name of her mask that was. It carried his pain and his hope and even his love, and all of his feelings felt as real as their last day together. It all felt real, but it always felt real in the moment. It didn’t mean anything in the long run, when she needed him to be there for her. So while her heart stopped her feet kept moving, climbing the stairs, flight by flight passing by. Within two minutes she was at the entrance to the roof, slamming into it with her shoulder to force it open.

She could hear him, his frantic footsteps ascending the stairs, echoing against the concrete walls. The rooftop had a small pool and lounging area, mostly utilized in the evening. Scanning her surroundings, she pulled a metal chair from the sitting area to her, bracing it up against the door handle. Then it was a sprint, creating distance between her and Quentin, so she could think, so she could try to figure out what could be done now.

She heard him run into the door, the chair stopping him for a moment. Gauging the distance to the nearby roofs, she looked around, trying to figure out if she could make the jump with a force leap. Another slam into the rooftop door disrupted her concentration. This had been a terrible idea. She should have run out the front door, and tried to lose him in a crowd. Perhaps she just wanted to be alone with him. The chair flew passed her head as he pushed it out of the way, the door exploding outwards as their eyes met for a moment, instant recognition despite the ways they tried to hide their identity.

Why was he here now? Where was he when Linora… She screamed out in frustration, igniting and tossing her lightsaber at him in a surge of pain and anger. He dodged, the blur of crimson heat swirling over his head before returning to her hand. His blade was in his hand as she charged him, both hands gripping the hilt, sweaty from the angst of seeing him again, wanting him, and knowing she would have to kill him.

 

[TheCorsair]

Quentin hit the top of the stairs and forearmed the door. Locked. Easily fixed. Calling on the Force, he slammed the door out onto the roof beyond, sending it bouncing and splashing into the pool. And there she was, standing by the edge of the roof, staring at him with wild eyes.

"Kaydia?" he called, unable to believe his eyes. "Kaydia... is that you?"

Her response was a moment's confusion, followed by a surge of rage and loss as she ignited a crimson-bladed lightsaber and hurled it him. Reflexes kicked in as he dodged aside, deflecting it with the Force as he did, and he could smell the ozone of its passage as it narrowly missed his skull. This... wasn't good. What the hell..? No time. She'd called the blade back to her and was charging.

Harlan Kwan-Don didn't carry a weapon. Harlan Kwan-Don didn't need to carry a weapon. And Harlan Kwan-Don certainly didn't carry anything that could easily conceal a lightsaber. Eyes wide, Quentin reached out with the Force and called a staff-like object to his hand. A pool skimmer, it turned out. Which was a poor weapon to fend off even a child with a lightsaber, let alone a trained combatant. But he let the Force flow along the shaft, reinforcing it, and used it to parry Kaydia's attack. Jedi Masters in the past had used this technique to defeat skilled combatants - even the Sith Lord Exar Kun had been stymied by this technique.

Quentin knew he was no Master, though.

"Kaydia!" he called, falling back and parrying quarterstaff-style with the skimmer. "It's me! It's Quentin!"

 

[Xanaphia]

“Kaydia! It’s me! It’s Quentin!”

There was no way Quentin could have known how much this enraged her. Surely he meant to calm her down, to dissuade her from fighting him, from trying to rout him. Her name, his name, the memories they evoked. The nights of passion and love with him, as he called it out. The days of horror with Linora, as she made sure the name Kaydia would only be associated with torment.

A furious flurry of slashes took the place of anything that could be called form. If she could come at him from a position of composure, the fight would have been over by now. If she could look at him and not feel several different, conflicting emotions at once she could plan, could think straight, could do something other than rage riotously at him. He wasn’t even fighting her back, just defending himself.

Her saber met his staff, pool skimmer really, locking with her. Her blade should have cut through his weapon, but he was stopping it somehow. Which was a good thing, if she stopped to think about it. After all, she didn’t really want to kill him, she just needed to. She flicked off her lightsaber, Quentin’s momentum sending him stumbling forward. She tripped him as he moved past her, pivoting in the process as he fell. He rolled over but she was already on him, the still warm hilt of her weapon pressed against his chest.

“You think I would hesitate to kill you?” She growled at him, pushing her hilt harder into his flesh. All she had to do was turn on her lightsaber, and it would be over. The job would be done, and she could be off planet in an hour or so. There would be no more painful fantasies of Quentin coming to rescue her from Linora, no more doubt her in mind over who she truly was. Kaydia would die alongside him and only Scarlet would remain. So easy, a flick of a switch. So easy, and still she couldn’t.

“Why are you here?” She demanded, blinking as confused tears filled her eyes. “Why is it you?”

 

[TheCorsair]

Oh, good. That Force technique worked.

He pressed the skimmer forward, baffled by the rage in her eyes even as decades of training drove him to try to put her off balance. But then she switched off the blade and his momentum carried him forward, sending him to the ground in an off-balance heap. He rolled and she landed on him, the hilt of her lightsaber grinding into his chest. “You think I would hesitate to kill you?” she snarled, grinding the emitter painfully into his flesh.

"No," he said, seeing the crimson rage flickering in her eyes and realizing that he was a single motion from death. "But..."

“Why are you here?” She demanded, blinking as confused tears filled her eyes. “Why is it you?”

For an instant he considered claiming that he'd come to look for her. But that was a lie. He knew she'd sense it, even if he was willing to use it. "I..." he licked his lips, looking up at her. "I came... hunting a Sith Lord," he said slowly. She blinked, muted emotions raging through her, and he realized why he hadn't been able to sense her presence. Inertia. Inertia, or a similar drug. "If I had known, though, I would have come here for you."

He watched the fury dance in her eyes, saw the hesitation in her posture, and took advantage. With an act of will he called the Force, slamming the lightsaber from her hand to bounce and skitter across the rooftop. Straddling him, pressing her weight saber-first into his chest, she started to fall towards him as her support was lost. He twisted, hips bucking and arms grabbing her wrists as he rolled her back onto her back and put his weight into the impact. "I thought you were dead!" he exclaimed, pinning her wrists to the floor as he pressed her down. "What happened?" He stared into her crimson-lit eyes as she fought beneath him, the strength in her deceptively slim form making it difficult to hold on. "What did that bitch do to you?"

 

[Xanaphia]

"If I had known, though, I would have come here for you."

“Like hell you would have!” She screamed in response, tears flowing freely. Feeling the truth of his words made it worse somehow. He would have looked for her, but never did. The only answer that made any sense was that he was one hell of a manipulator or incredibly self-delusional. What else could explain how true everything he said felt, versus the reality of what happened?

Distracted as she was, he was able to push the lightsaber from her hand, knocking her off balance and collapsing against him. Capitalizing on her instability, suddenly he was on top of her, hard muscles pressing her down against the concrete. Absolutely no give between the his firm body and the stiff ground. Between her thighs, his body holding her down, his hand cuffing her wrists, his breath on his her face, it felt like a twisted parody of their first night together. “Where were you?” She wailed at him, unsure if she was moving against him to escape, or to feel him against her.

"I thought you were dead!"

Struggling, straining, writhing against him, she half expected (hoped?) to feel his erection prodding her thighs. Half expected (wanted?) to feel him inside her, lips pressed together in a mad ecstasy of flesh and desire.

"What did that bitch do to you?"

“You want to know what she did to me?” Scarlet growled, conditioned hatred pushing away the residual desire. She opened her mind now, brief memories of pain and torture pouring form her to flood his brain. Rapes and beatings, frequent use of the SIN, drugs all muddled and mixed together in a brief agonizing mosaic. Worst of all, memories of force tendrils tearing and wrenching at her mental defenses until finally they pried open her mind, the full force of Linora’s cruelty pervading her psyche. All the while, Linora’s words playing over the memories, the vicious prophecy that had proven true until this moment.

“Quentin isn’t coming for you. Don’t you get it, you stupid slut? Quentin used you. He used you to escape, and then used your body for his pleasure. He’s gone, Scarlet. He doesn’t care what happens to you. He never cared what happens to you.”

She sensed him being rocked by the mere impressions of her torment at Linora’s hands, sympathetic terror and anguish weakening his resolve, and his grip. She pushed him off her with the force, landing a few feet away from her as she leapt to her feet. Calling her saber back to her hands, she considered ending it there, letting her own suffering be the last thing he saw and experienced in this life.

But there were footsteps coming up the stairs, and if she killed him there would be more witnesses than she would prefer to deal with. So she ran, sprinting towards the edge and pushing up on her feet. The power of her pain and her rage carried her through the air, propelling her far higher and farther than should have been possible. She landed hard on the nearby roof, but pushed forward, momentum driving her as she descended the fire escape.