Star Wars: Eclipse (TheCorsair and Xana)

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Kaydia wasn’t sure where they got the energy to make it to their room, as she fumbled at the buttons of her skirt, letting it puddle on the floor before landing on the bed. She had to work off her top, which took too much effort in her exhausted state that she nearly ripped it off. But then Quentin was holding her, and it was the only thing in the world she needed.

"And that was fun. Sharing that with you."

She half chuckled, too sleepy to give it a real effort. It was fun, she could admit. After what Linora put her through, she would have thought it possible to enjoy an evening like tonight. And yet, with Quentin close by, she felt safe enough to explore her sexuality, to enjoy her sensuality once more. Even more, they might have shared their bodies with others, but their force bond was greater than all of that. The comfort of feeling him in her mind was greater than an orgasm. Well, perhaps just shy of sharing her orgasm with him…

“But... not without you. And never without your knowledge."

“Never” she agreed. Her head rested on his chest, just under the crook of his neck. “Love…you…t…” she tried, before sleep took her.


“We missed one hell of a party,” Aldane called to Linora, as she poured over data.

“Hmm?” she asked, puzzled. He pulled up a holovid so she could see it. Utter wanton sexuality, all of it. A couple fucking on a table, while an audience cheered them on and a Zeltron woman groped and kissed the woman getting fucked. Linora just shook her head, “That’s not why we came here.”

“No, but we have to keep up appearances, of course. And that means playing along,” He zoomed on a lavender skinned woman, eagerly sucking cock, “Oh, she’d be fun. Just once though.”

Linora looked up at the image, sighing, before doing a double take. “Wait, pause it.” Manipulating the footage, she changed the point of view, until she got a good angle of the man’s chest. Then she laughed. “We did miss a good party…”


“What do you think?” Kaydia asked, holding up two swimsuits, “’Hey, my face is up here,’ or ‘well, if you are going to stare anyways.’” She smirked as she watched him eye each one, and took a kiss from his lips before he could answer, “Think I am going to go with this one, after everything that happened last night. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun, but not something I need to repeat anytime soon.”

The plan for her to “network” poolside while Quentin met with Lisko Amarrreta, to get an appraisal of her, before they put pressure on her to reveal what she knew about the Sith money laundering scheme. She came over to him, as he was getting himself ready, buttoning up his shirt for him. Really it was just an excuse to feel him against her body, and stare into his eyes. “We can order in a late lunch once you get back, since I will have spent most of day in the public eye. Besides, I don’t think there is any doubt I am fucking you, after last night...”
 
The Baronet froze the projected image, rotating it and examining the actors closely. Is former prurient interest was gone, replaced by something cold and analytical. "You are certain? This is the same Jedi?"

"Quentin, yes," Linora confirmed, unconsciously flexing the alloy fingers of her prosthetic hand. "He's altered his skin and hair color, but I recognize him."

"You're certain? He is, after all, dead." The Baronet lifted an ironic eyebrow.

"I know," came Linora's ironic reply. "According to the Council, I'm the one who killed him."

"Any particular reason why?"

Linora shrugged. "Jealousy, I suppose. He threw me over for some Twilek-trained whore, all because I framed him for murder."

The Baronet laughed. "Ah, dear me. A dead Jedi at an orgy. I simply must meet him." He smiled a thin smile. "I suspect that, since he abandoned you, he has become something of a Shadow of his former self." His smile became one of genuine amusement as he saw the baffled expression on Linora's face. "A small joke. Had you noticed that this woman is your missing Scarlet?"

"What?" She examined the image. "Fuck. I hadn't." She sat back. "We should find them now. Kill them both."

"Patience," the Baronet observed. "We need to determine what they know, first. Also, who they are. Here, I mean."

He reached out, is slender fingers twisting cruelly in Linora's hair as he dragged her to him. "Later," he said, tearing her blouse open and roughly squeezing her breast as he kissed her. The moan she voiced could have been one of arousal or fear or pain. "For now, I am inspired..."


"I'm rather partial to 'if you're going to stare anyway'," Quentin laughed, trying playfully to pull her down into his lap as she kissed him. Her struggles were equally playful, involving laughing and rubbing until she pulled free,

"Think I am going to go with this one, after everything that happened last night."

"Aaaawww..." Quentin tried for a pout and failed. His lips just didn't cooperate. "The other one gave me ideas."

"Don’t get me wrong, it was fun, but not something I need to repeat anytime soon.”

"We'll need to explain that to Sheila, then," Quentin laughed. "Her secretary's already contacted us, inviting us to an... ah..." He read from the screen. "An intimate little gathering of friends." He smirked. "Clothing optional."

Still chuckling, he stowed the data pad. "Zeltrons. All of them mildly Force-sensitive, and Force abilities hit them the way their pheromones hit everyone else."

He rose, tempted to blow off the day and throw her over the arm of the couch and have her in her new swimsuit. And then out of it. And then... But no, duty called. So he pushed the thoughts aside and began dressing.

To be honest, though? When she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body against his back as she buttoned his shirt for him? He very nearly gave in anyway.

“We can order in a late lunch once you get back, since I will have spent most of day in the public eye.," she said after a lingering kiss. Besides, I don’t think there is any doubt I am fucking you, after last night...”

"Be sure to get something with plenty of sugar and carbs," he replied. "You'll need the energy."
 
Lisko Amaretta looked over her schedule matrix, steeling herself for her next appointment. Baronet Aldane ha-Florindel Sergovia Organa-Nahal. The multitude of last names may have made the man seem comical, on page. That stood in direct contrast to terrifying charisma he seemed to exude, the way he seemed incapable of smiling in a friendly manner.

Why was he here? She doubted it was the reason he gave, to review his portfolio performance. She went through her drawers on her desk, finding a bottle fine whiskey and pouring herself a shot, to take the edge off. And then another. She had been well compensated for her part in moving money around for various shell corporation, but when the Baronet first approached her with his proposal, it wasn’t exactly the kind of offer she could turn down.

“The Baronet is here to see you,” the assistant droids called over the intercom.

“Send him in. And send for some lunch. A sandwich, I am thinking, since this will likely be a working lunch.” Lisko took a few more deep breaths, steeling herself for the meeting. He entered with formidable bearing, lips curled into a malicious smirk.

“Lisko, dear, it’s been too long. Far too long,” he declared, scooping her into an embrace and kissing her on each cheek. A blonde woman with an undisguised icy disposition followed in behind.

“Always a pleasure, Baronet,” She managed, somehow only barely tripping over the words. She retreated behind her desk, and he lounged in the seat across from her, right ankle resting on his left knee. “I understand you require a portfolio review today?”

“Yes, I am particularly concerned with the performance of my stock in the Jetechnologies company. I need you to sell those assets and move it into more stable markets.” Lisko caught on to the innuendo of his request; referring to the shell company she had helped to set up, to mask the flow of money from one place to another.

“That can be handled, of course,” she explained, beginning the process of purging the data from her personal server. It would remain within the secure data centers of the bank, because all transactions had to balance out.

“And one more request, dear, perhaps a bit more unconventional than most,” he started, his assistant stepping up to the desk now, producing a hologram of a human man and woman. “If these two were to discover the existence of the Jetechnologies company, it would be very bad for everyone involved. You understand, yes? I need to know if either visits you. And,” he started, reaching into his pocket for something, “I need you to record any meeting do you have with either of them.” He slid her a small holocam.

“I understand,” Lisko nodded, taking the cam and putting it away in her desk.

“Very good!” He exulted, standing now, “I expect to hear back from you soon, Lisko.” And with that he was out the door.
 
To any and all eyes, it was Malachi Hardin that sat in the waiting room reviewing a spreadsheet.

The ability to utterly subsume oneself into a role was a vital skill for a Shadow, and they all spent long months and years perfecting it. Quentin could maintain the facade of a different identity nonstop for months, in public and private, without once breaking character. But even this skill was insufficient to deceive eyes that saw with the Force. Which was the reason for the other skill mastered by the Shadows: Izuna Ma Tari, which meant "Cloak of the Inner Eye" in a long-dead language once spoken in a world named Ziost. The discipline muted the wielder's perceptions of the Force. In exchange, all but the most careful inspection by a trained Force-sensitive would make the practitioner appear to be nothing out of the ordinary.

And he didn't expect to be inspected closely. Apparently footage of his little performance from last night was making the rounds. It was a little disturbing, but it helped deflect and possibke suspiciins that he was a Jedi. After all, Jedi didn't participate in orgies.

Staring at the spreadsheet without actually seeing it, Malachi smiled a little. Perhaps Mistress Cordfay would care to watch it with him, when they had their lunch? It would be most instructive...

Tbe door to Ms. Amaretto's office open, and Malachi froze as the Sith emerged. The Baronet who had nearly destroyed him. And... d'ast! Linora!

Keeping his exteriir calm and uninterested, Quentin braced himself. He was rested, but there were two of them. And while he was better with a saber than Linora, he wasn't confident he could take them both in a fight. He'd have to...

"Until next time, my dear Lisko," the Baronet purred, kissing the woman's fingertips.

"Of course, Baronet," she answered.

The Sith and the fallen Jedi swept past without looking at him, and Quentin felt his heart begin yo beat again. Was this a trick? Were they unsure if Kaydia was nearby? Or had they genuinely not recognized him?

"Mr. Hardin?" Lisko called.

"Yes," he said rising and offering his hand. "Thank you so much for freeing up an appointment..."
 
Kaydia lounged by the pool, a pair of reflective covering her eyes. She could feel the multitude of eyes on her, despite the one piece swimsuit she had chosen to wear. Whispers that should have been out of earshot checked and confirmed that she was indeed the woman from the holovid that had been making rounds lately. She laughed to herself about that. Slightly excited by the idea of the entire galaxy watching Quentin fuck her. As surely as his seed had flooded her womb , she was his, and he was hers. It was far better than the last holovid of her that had made its way across the holonet.

She rolled over on her back, making sure to sunbathe equally on both sides, even if she didn’t actually intend on tanning. Without nothing else to occupy her mind, she reached out to Quentin, having grown accustom to his presence in her mind. Their force link had become something akin to a security blanket for her, an anchor to secure her when the whirlwind of emotions threaten to consume her. As happy as she had been this past month with him, it wasn’t so long ago that she was Linora’s pet, subject to whatever whims or cruelties her mistress demanded of her. She often wondered how it was that she was still sane, after what she had gone through. Quentin had assured her it was a sign of her own strength, but she believed it was because of him. That he gave her to strength to hold onto her sanity, and reclaim it after months of torment.

Reaching for him, she was pleased to discover they were in sync, the holovid of them together on his mind as well as hers. Relaxing into the mutual desire she took a deep breath until…

The Baronet who had nearly destroyed him. And... d'ast! Linora!

Adrenaline pounded through her system, shocking her out of her serene state. She sat up, looking around her, head swiveling dramatically. Not by her, him. Trying not to look as if she were fleeing pool side, she gathered her things I her arms. She felt so helpless, relaxing by the pool while he was face to face with them. Could he hold them off long enough for her to reach him? Should she go for her Saber, packed away in their room eleven floors up? Just get in the first speeder taxi to pull up, and offer double to get her to the finance build as soon as possible? Her mind was spinning with possibilities when she felt him calm, ever so slightly. There was no fight, no words, not even an acknowledgement. Coincidence, that they were leaving Lisko Amaretta’s office at the same time Quentin was entering it.

Of course, she doubted it was completely coincidence that saw them here now. A Sith and Vigo, were here, and neither she nor Quentin had known. What if they had been at the party last night, while she and Quentin had been out of their mind on Merakuya and lust? They had been so foolish, letting their guard down with the enemies they had made.

From what she could tell Quentin was not in immediate danger, so she made her way upto the room. She would meet him at the finance building, and they would get lunch at a nearby restaurant. It wasn’t the way she had wanted to spend the afternoon, but with the new facts they had before them, she didn’t want to be far from him, if she could help it. So she changed out of her swimsuit and into a white airy suit, hiding her saber on her person. She would not be caught off guard, again.
 
The interview with Lisko Amaretta had not gone as he'd originally planned. Because originally, he'd planned to call upon the Forrce to suggest that she cooperate and provide him with information. But with the Baronet and Linora nearby - especially Linora, who would be far more attuned to his presence - he didn't dare lower his Cloak and open himself to the Force. So he went through the consultation, observing her with his ordinary senses alone.

She was frightened. He could see that, though she masked it well. Her eyes kept flickering to him and then away, as if unwilling to look too closely. And there was recognition, although he'd wager that it had nothing to do with the holoshow. Unless...

Hmmm...

"Thank you," he said at the end of the appointment. "You've been most generous with your time. And we are confirmed, then, for four days from niw at this tine?"

"Indeed." Lisko nodded, shaking his hand. "I have a few suggestions in mind alreacldy, but nothing definite until I can interview Mistress Cordfay in person."

"I quite understand," he assured her as he left the room and then the building, heading for the skimmer and Kaydia. He'd felt her awareness of his reactions, and her approach. Their bond, it seemed, was close enough and strong enough that even the Cloak couldn't block it. "Mistress Cordfay," he said, nodding as he slid in next to her.

The skimmer moved forward, soundless. "We are, it seems, playing a mire dangerous game than I realized."
 
The urge to hug him was strong, and it took great deal of willpower to hold back as he joined her in the skimmer. They were both professionals, of course, and now more than ever had to be very careful. And it wasn’t as if anything had actually happened, just how close everything came to having fallen apart.

Rationally, Kaydia knew she was overreacting. Knew it, and wished the knowledge could change her response. She was filled with questions and anxieties, and she knew Quentin had no answers for her. No way for her to know why Linora and the Baronet were here, or whether they knew Quentin and Kaydia were here as well. No way to know if they didn’t recognize Quentin, or choose not engage, and if that was the choice they made, why? She hated not knowing, and she knew the anxiety created by not knowing was getting worse. She didn’t know anything, he didn’t know anything. They didn’t know anything, except that Linora and the Baronet were here.

“What are we going to do?” She asked, finally. A plan would help, help push down the tension that was building. “Is it feasible to always stay in close proximity to one another?” And would it even matter? The Baronet had embarrassed them both last they met. Granted they were both injured and struggling with their feelings after the long absence, but he had Linora now, too. Her instinct was to run, to abandon the mission and regroup elsewhere. Cowardice, perhaps. A healthy dose of paranoia, she preferred to believe.

They arrived at the restaurant, and took a booth towards the back, security droids arranged about the perimeter as always. It didn’t help Kaydia’s mood, didn’t help her feel any more secure. Without conscious thought, she put in a food order, but doubted she actually be able to eat.
 
"What are we going to do?" Linora asked.

The Baronet lifted an eyebrow as he looked at her across the table, then gently placed his silverware on his plate. "Tell me more, my dear," he purred. "What is it you want to do?"

She bit her lip, suddenly awkward. The Sith Lord's voice was calm, even gentle, but she didn't trust that. Appearances could be deceiving, and the Baronet was nothing but deceptive appearances. "Find them," she finally said. "Stop... stop playing around with accountants and the like, and just hunt them down and kill them."

The Baronet lifted an eyebrow. "Well," he said slowly, "that certainly would have the virtue of simplicity. Tell me, though, how would you propose that we hunt them down?"

"We know what they look like, here," Linora said, eyes flashing as she leaned forward. "The disguises they've adopted. And we know the party they were at. We just find out the names they're using from another of the attendants, and..."

"Malachi Hardin," the Baronet interjected. "And Nyamelo Cordfay."

"...and then we... what?" She glared at him. "You already know?"

He shrugged lightly. "Of course. I pulled their faces from the holo from last night, and ran them through a search algorithm. Our lovely Scarlet has adopted the identity of Mistress Nyamelo Cordfay, and your Shadow has become Malachi Hardin."

Linora stared at him for a long moment without speaking. "Then... why this charade?" she finally demanded. "Why don't we just..."

"Kick in their door and slaughter them?" The Baronet said it casually, then took a bite of his meal.

"Yes!" Linora sounded exasperated now. "It would..."

"Accomplish nothing." He sipped at his wine. "Oh, I grant you it would eliminate any future problems with them. But really, we need to do more than just that. Your darling Quentin is, after all, a Shadow. We must determine what..."

"You keep calling him that," Linora interrupted. "What do you mean?"

"By 'a Shadow', I take it?"

"Yes."

The Baronet dabbed at his lips with his napkin. "The Shadows are an ancient order of the Jedi, dating perhaps to the founding of the Republic. They are... hunters. Assassins. Men and women who seek what the Jedi refer to as the 'dark side' in order to destroy it." He smiled. "Often making use of the tools they would condemn others for."

Linora thought for a moment. "I've never heard of them."

The Baronet nodded. "Of course not. For the most part, the Jedi have subsumed the different knightly Orders into the broad categories of 'Guardian' and 'Consular'. The glory days of the Battlemasters and Warmasters, the Healers and Beastmasters... all gone. And, I assume, it suits the Shadows to allow others to believe they are no more." He sipped his wine. "Who fears an assassin, when they believe there are no assassins?" Another sip. "But I digress. He is a Shadow, I am sure of it. And so we must assess what he has learned, and what he has communicated to the Order."

The goblet clinked as he set it down. "Besides."

"Besides?" Linora echoed.

"Your Scarlet - whom you so foolishly squandered - has half-embraced the Dark Side already. And Quentin is a Shadow."

"So?"

The Baronet smiled. "The Shadows are half Sith already, whether they acknowledge it or not. And, if they can be turned, they will be powerful allies."


Quentin ordered his meal, wishing he had enough appetite to do the menu justice. "We must complete our negotiations, Mistress Cordfay," he said, touching her hand and letting her feel his own concerns and his support. "The future of your company rests on it." The future of the Republic may rest on it.

That wasn't hyperbole, either. The Sith were a cancer within the body of the Republic, after all. Left unchecked, they could destroy a thousand generations of civilization and culture, plunging it into madness and tyranny and civil war. "However, the majority of your appointments could benefit from my presence." We should stay together now, as much as possible. Perhaps, for the time being, it would be best to avoid having me run separate errands?" And then get off this rock, and take a real vacation for a few months. Away from duty and Sith and the rest.
 
It didn’t take much rearranging to alter her schedule so they would both be attending events together. And as much as Kaydia want to just stay in and out of the public eye, Quentin convinced her that is was a better idea to continue with her original plans for the evening. Afterall, the situation with the Baronet and Linora had two possible outcomes. Either they had no idea the couple as here, and no idea about their current identities, in which case, going along as if nothing was wrong was the best way to stay in character. Or, they did know who the couple were, here, and were playing mind games until they found the right moment to strike, in which case, being in public worked to Kaydia and Quentin’s benefit. After, attacking them in public would draw attention to the Sith, and the Sith could only operate in power when they operated from the darkness.

So Kaydia dressed for the evening activities, which would lead them to Antares Casino. She wore a fine black dress, low cut back and adorned with chains of silver and gems. Quentin wore the specialized suit he had made for this sort of thing, which concealed many tools, and in this case, both of their sabers. One more needy kiss was all she had time for, as they prepared to go back into the public eyes, playing the roles of their personas.

Once they arrived at the casino, she made her way over to the Pazaak tables. This was a game Kaydia thoroughly enjoyed, and could even brag about being good at. And while she might have cheated a bit in her time, taking advantage of her gifts to see what her opponents intended to play, she had won enough games on her own skill alone. She sat across from a Cerean, and reminded herself not to play too well…
 
Malachi Hardin's formal suit was a collarless frock coat, cut so it was longer in tge back than the front and designed to be worn buttoned up. Beneath it he wore a grey vest and grey slacks that bloused into black boots, and a white long-sleeved pullover shirt. Silver bracelets glittered on each wrist, and he clipped matching - albeit more feminine - bracelets on her wrists as she pulled him in for a hungry kiss.

"First," he said when he could finaly breathe, "do that again, and we'll be starring in another video." He kissed her back, hands texploring her body through the soft silk of her gown. Then, reluctantly, he strpped back.

"Kasai fighting gauntlets," he said, indicating the bracelets. "You activate them by snapping your hands up-down-up and spreading your fingers on the final up." He demonstrated, and ths bracelet expanded into a shimmering mesh glove over his right hand and forearm. "The power field can block physical weapons and even lightsabers. Teras Kasai fighting techniques are built around strategies like that, but the gauntlets work equally well with any hand to hand style." He repeated the gesture, and the mesh coiled into a bracelet once more. "The fields only last about two or three minutes before the charge is exhausted, sobe careful. But, if anything goes wrong, it should buy you time for me to get you your saber."

The two weapons were concealed beneath the loose cut if his coat, in crossdraw shoulder rigs, along with two razor-edged disks the size of his palm. Based on the Massassi lanvoroki, he had learned to augment their range and control their direction through the Force. A small selection of lockpicks and miniaturized slicing gear and surveilance and countersurveillance equipment and gas pelkets and filters, packed into the soles of his boots and the pockers of his coats, rounded out the small arsenal.

Playing dutiful bodyguard and assistant, Quentin shadowed Kaydia as they entered the casino. The details and rules of pazaak were a complete mystery to him, though. It was far too easy for a Jedi to unconsciously affect the flow of games of pure chance, so he rarely bothered. Sabaac or poker were his speed, when he had to gamble, as those games incorporated strategy and a competent bluffer could even screen his thoughts. And so, excusing himself for a moment, he made his way to the nearby bar.

"Malachi Hardin!" a heart-stoppingly familiar voice announced as he waited for his drinks. "It's so good to see you again!"

He turned, keeping his expression neutral. Linora stood before him, draped in a white sleeveless gown that displayed her athletic figure to best effect. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but you have the advantage on me."

Linora laughed, eyes twinkling. "Hardly," she assured him. "Not since Mustafar, at least."



A handful of chips clattered on the table as Kaydia's new opponent took his seat. It was rhe Baronet, dressed in a fashion similar to Quentin - although his coat was an electric blue velvet frogged with silver. "Mistress Cordfay, I presume?" he purred, shuffling his deck and dealing out his cards. "Truely I am honored, to have such a skilled player as my partner." A ghost of a smile crossed his thin lips. "And that color is magnificent on you. The darkness brings out the Scarlet in your eyes..."
 
The clatter of currency on the wooden surface of the games tables, alongside the choking mist of his presence sent a terrible chill through Kaydia. Numerous encounters, liaisons, as he would call them, as if they were a mutually decided upon meeting and not something forced upon her. Faint scars remained on her skin, unending reminds of the things he had done to her. Worse still, were the fragments left in her mind, the nonchalant ease by which he swept aside her own will, her own sense of self. To toy with her. To make her love and crave her violation. To make her beg him.

Unconsciously, her fingers fiddled at the bracelets Quentin had given her. Delicate things, a bit plain compared to the persona she was cultivating, but necessary. She could appreciate them, and even wondered why she wasn’t already using something like this. It fit with her style, the style she had cultivated while she lacked a saber. Whether it was enough, she couldn’t say.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” She started, not quite meeting his eyes. She hadn’t met him before, not as Nyamelo Cordfay. Not that there was any doubt he knew who she was. Or, that he knew who he thought she was, referring to her code name. What did he want?

He smiled thinly, in that way that was vaguely menacing. The way that assured her that he held all the cards now. Still, he bowed with a flourish, taking her hand and kissing it. It took all of her composure not to wretch it from his hands. “Baronet Aldane ha-Florindel Sergovia Organa-Nahal. It is a pleasure to be formally introduced.” He purred, almost mocking, looking upon her with eyes that had seen every inch of her bare skin. Still, she pulled her hand away from him, busying herself with the deck. Shuffling and dealing out her hand. “How have you been enjoying Telerath so far?” He asked, placing down his card.

“It’s been a vacation,” she managed with a steady voice, somehow. What was he doing? Trying to get into her head and under her skin? She played her card. “And you? Liquidating assets?”

He chuckled with his next card, “Oh, this and that. Catching up with old friends. Making business contacts. It seems I already missed a noteworthy party.” He remarked. Her blood ran cold. So easily could he have been there, at that party. As out of her mind as she was on Merakuya, she wasn’t even paying attention to who was touching or watch her. In the moment she didn’t care who fucked her. Would she have even noticed if he had joined in on the orgy? The thought had her nauseous, holding down her lunch as she put down a card.

“19,” She called, tapping her card, still avoiding his gaze.

“Oh, very good, Mistress Cordfay,” he teased, passing the chips she had won over to her, “You are just going to take all my money, aren’t you?”
 
Quentin felt Kaydia's surge of fear-laced adrenaline and looked sharply in her direction. The sight of the Baronet sitting across from her made his fingers twitch convulsively towards his concealed saber. Linora clearly saw the aborted gesture - or sensed the impulse behind it - because she laughe lightly and rested her fingers on his chest. Etched with silver filagree and twinkling with tiny diamonds in intricate patterns, the prosthetic was a work of art.

"Relax," she purred, mockery lacing her words. "There is no emotion, there is peace. Remember?"

He struck her arm away. "What do you want?"

"You," she responded, looking him up and down. "We were always good together..."

"Right until you framed me for murder and tried to kill me."

"It wasn't just me," she pouted. "I was just the instrument. Masters Korash and Feln made you the scapegoat. And you killed them." The silver fingers stroked his chest. "And we could be so good together again. You, and me, and Scarlet... we'd be unstoppable. I don't mind sharing." She licked her lips. "And I saw that you don't, either..."

"Kaydia," Quentin snapped.

"What?" Linora looked confused.

"Her name is Kaydia. Not Scarlet." He struck her arm aside once more. "Scarlet is something the Black Sun tried to make of her." He stalked away, reaching out to Kaydia through the Force, letting her draw strength from him.

Linora laughed, cold and mocking. "Is that what you think? 'Malachi'," there was a mocking quality to her use of his cover name, "you have no idea."

He stopped and turned. "What?"

"Kaydia is the lie, Malachi. A pretty mask worn by a cold blooded murderer. Don't tell me she fooled you!" Swishing towards Quentin, she put her hands on his shoulders. "Or do you like it?" she whispered, silver fingers tracing the muscles of his chest. "You always did have a taste for the forbidden..."
 
“I’d like to invest in your company,” The baronet insisted, as they started the next hand, “I see such…potential, in you, Mistress Cordfay.” He played a 10 before looking at her, meaningfully.

“We aren’t publically traded,” she explained, staring at her cards, not really seeing them. Not seeing anything beyond the hostile smirk. She played one without looking at it.

“Oh? Afraid of a hostile takeover?” He laughed lightly, shifting the cards in his hand. She just blinked back the pain and rage. “I am not interested in that. Just partners. With my influence, your competitors wouldn’t stand a chance.” He played, and tapped his chips on the wood, a steady rhythm that made her feel as if she were on a timer.

“I wasn’t aware you were so well informed about the cosmetics industry,” she deflected, feeling Quentin nearby. Finding some strength to meet his gaze head on as she made her move.

“ Oh, you would be surprised by what I know. And I would hate to have to lend that knowledge to those that would see your business fail. Those who would be happy to see you flail and squirm under your obligations. Under your duty.” He played now, his eyes skimming across her body before meeting her glare. “20.”
 
The urge to lash out simmerered and festered, but he allowed it to pass through without acting on it. "You're right," he agreed mildly, taking her prosthetic in his hand. The metal was hard but warm as flesh, and he traced the palm with his thumb. "I still do, I suppose. But what about you?"

"What?" Linora asked, feeling suddenly uncomfortable as she jerked her hand from his grip. "What do you..."

"You were a Jedi, once," he said. "And a good one. And there was nothing illegal about merakuya, not when I first uncovered the ring. If you'd told me, I would have..."

"No. You wouldn't have," she interrupted.

"Perhaps not," he agreed. "But the Masters involved would have, atworst, been censured. It didn't have to end in blood and betrayal, Linora." He stepped towards her, extending his hand. "It still doesn't."

Sbe stepped back again. "You're out of your mind, Quentin,x she snapped. "You know what I've done. What I still do."

Quentin shrugged. "Revan split the Order and nearky destroyed it, before returning to the light and saving the Republic. Ulic qel-Droma fell into darkness, and still found the strength to..."

"Really?" she sneered. "You think you can save me? Like some sort of Dai Bindu hero?"

He smiled at that. "Of course. I'm a Jedi."

"You're a fool!"


The Baronet favored Kaydia with a faint smile, watching her discomfort with mild interest. It was clear that she'd overcome - or, at least, shielded herself from - some of the hooks he'd left in her mind. A combination of her own strength and her bond with her Jedi, he deduced. "Make no mistake, Mistress Cordfay," he continued, "I represent a consortium with interest in your business. We would prefer to integrate you and Mr. Hardin into that consortium. Clearly," he let his pale blue gaze crawl over her body once more, "our early dealings with you were less than optimal, but the both of you have impressed us greatly."

There was a peculiar sensation, like a ghostly touch on the back of his neck. "My backers are willing to leave your corporation as a nearly independent bidy within the consortium. You would have a voice in our strategic planning, and access to our greater reech and resources. And, you must admit..."

His voice trailed away as he looked past Kaydia to observe Linora and the Shadow. Amusement flickered on his refined features. "Oh, my. Your man Malachi is good, isn't he?" Then his attention turned back to her. "But, as I said, twenty. Will you stand, or fold?"
 
…Less than optimal...

Fingers dug into her fist, swallowing hard at the way he dismissed what she had went through, what he had a hand in putting her through. And he wasn’t the only one, as she senses Quentin trying to turn Linora.

It didn't have to end in blood and betrayal, Linora. It still doesn't.

The bitch who had her tortured! The bitch who had her beaten and drugged and raped until her mind nearly shattered. The bitch sent her to kill him. Aldane seemed impressed, which only fueled Kaydia’s ire. Still, he prodded her.

"But, as I said, twenty. Will you stand, or fold?"

“I’m done,” she pushed the chips toward him as she pushed herself away from the table, unable to shake the feeling of betrayal she felt. How…how could he? They were…in sync, on the same page, like-minded. Except the only reason she was here, on this stupid planet, being taunted by a man who defiled her mind and body, was because of Quentin. Because of his stupid duty! His duty that he was supposed to choose her over.

She couldn’t do this now, as she made her way out, not a thought as to where she was heading. Not even worried that she left Quentin alone with them. They were supposed to stay together, have each other backs, but trying to win over Linora wasn’t having her back. It wasn’t taking into consideration what she had went through, or what she was still recovering from.

So, using the very technique Quentin had taught her, she blocked their force connection and pushed him out of her mind, wandering Telerath in search of Inertia.
 
Quentin felt Kaydia wrap the Cloak around herself as she stormed away from the pazaak table, and cursed himself for a fool. Linora got in his way, though, when he tried to follow. "You're not going anywhere," she hissed, grabbing his arm. "Except with us, or to hell."

His response was a variation of what he'd done to the Baronet's lightsaber, backed by a flare of rage. Linora, prepared for an assault on her mind, was caught off guard by the direct physical strike. She screamed as power packs in her prosthetic arm overloaded, wreathing the limb in arcs of electricity and sending feedback coursing up her nerves. "Fuck you, treacherous bitch," he snarled, stalking away.

Linora clutched the suddenly useless weight to her chest, struggling to overcome the pain. The Baronet loomed up beside her, the cool amusement radiating from him infuriating her more. "He really is quite good," he observed. "You simply must learn to handle your lovers more effectively."

"Fuck you," she snarled.

"Perhaps later," the Baronet answered dryly. "For now, put that pain to work and follow me. I've no desire to let them escape now."



Quentin hit the parking levels of the casino at a dead run. Even with the Cloak Kaydia couldn't fully hide from him, not now. He could tell a direction, at least. So he breathed deeply, amplifying his senses with the Force. Her scent was like a roadmap, and he pursued it to where their skimmer had been. She was on the move and he ran, pushing himself faster than most humans would have believed possible, and lept from the side of the landing structure. There was a moment's freefall, and then he kicked off of a skimmer and lept again. A second offered a handhold and he swung, hurling himself forward.

Their skimmer bounced a little as he landed on the rear. "Kaydia!" he called, dragging himself into the passenger seat, not caring at the moment if he blew their cover or not.
 
She cried out as the skimmer bounced, the unexpected weight jolting her. “Leave me alone!” she screamed, irritated by the way he had no trouble finding her when she wanted to be alone. But it wasn’t time for an emotional outburst, as another skimmer approached quickly from behind, carrying the Baronet and Linora and their ill intentions.

“Do you have to be so fucking forgiving?” She snarled, turning hard to lose their pursuers between a couple high rises. It was a ridiculous thing to ask of him, if she stopped to think about it. She needed his understanding after she had hurt him, betrayed him, violated him. Still, it felt like a stab in the back.

How? How could he excuse that cunt after what she did? How could he offer her exoneration, while the living victim of her act was just a ways off? How could he claim to love her, and not want retribution for what she had been through?

“Can you stop being a fucking Jedi for just a little while?” She roared, ducking beneath a laser blast. She was driving poorly, her fury and her tears blurring her vision. Suddenly she felt like a padawan again, having trouble pushing her emotions aside to do what needed to be done. She was force sensitive because she was just that, sensitive, feeling everything deeply. How could she be expected to just turn off her emotions when her deep connection to the force arose from the same deep connection to her emotions?

“You are supposed to love me! To give a damn about what I went through! Is your mission more important than me? Are you just using me to catch a Sith?”
 
"Leave me alone!" Kaydia screamed, and the misery and anger that clawed at her mind hit him like a whip. He deflected most of it, but the residue left him snappish. "No," he replied, swallowing the residual rage that coursed through his mind. Then he grabbed at the arm of the passenger chair as she banked hard, sending them tight between two buildings. It was then that he spotted their pursuers, through a combination of the rear-view scanners and her thoughts.

“Do you have to be so fucking forgiving?” she snarled, banking hard again.

"Do you think I'm being forgiving?" he snarled back, watching the pursuing skimmer approach. "I've seen fallen Jedi on the path of redemption, Kaydia! It's...."

The ship dropped suddenly, and blaster fire bracketed the air above them as she killed. “Can you stop being a fucking Jedi for just a little while?”

Quentin drew a deep breath at that, holding it for a moment and centering himself. "No."


"That's a little less than discrete," Linora remarked, wishing she could do more at this moment. With her arm - her dominant arm - just an inert lump of metal, though, she was quite literally handicapped. And it was making her peevish.

"Perhaps," the Baronet allowed, pressing the firing stud again. The target skimmer lept impossibly, avoiding the blast. "But consider this: clearly, I foresaw that events would proceed in this fashion. Why else would I have an armed skimmer?"

"Because you're a psychopathic son of a bitch?"

He chuckled at that. "Touche, my dear. But really, if they will not turn, we must ensure they die. By whatever means necessary. I'd consider proton torpedoes, except that I wish to view the bodies personally."

Linora considered that. "Why?"

"A Shadow and a Force-trained assassin?" He chuckled again. "I would never sleep well, if there was a chance they were hunting me."

"You don't sleep well now."

He shrugged. "Because, at least once, I didn't see the bodies."


His answer enraged her further. “You are supposed to love me! To give a damn about what I went through! Is your mission more important than me? Are you just using me to catch a Sith?”

"No!" Her accusation stung, and his response was an angry shout. Drawing a deep breath, he tried to center himself again. "No. I'm not. And I want to kill her, for what she did to you." Something scarlet and yellow flickered in his blue eyes. "Slowly. And I know the ways to do it, Kaydia. I could make her suffer, far, far worse than even you have." The flickering spread, transforming his eyes entirely. "And I could do it, easily. There are secrets I know..."

Closing his alien eyes, he drew a shuddering breath and held it. When he opened them again, his eyes were their normal color once more. "That's why I have to try, Kaydia. Because I could be the Baronet, easily." He managed a weak grin. "But that's me. If you happen to brutally murder her, well... can I just give you a list of questions I'd like you to ask her first?"

More cannon fire hammered the air around them. "Fuck me," he groaned. "Of all the times to fail to pack a blaster..." He dug into his coat and pulled out his lightsaber. "Can you fall back, get us even with them? Maybe I'll end up killing her for you yet."
 
She would have dismissed his denial outright, if not for the chilling tone of his voice, as he explained that he did indeed desire to kill Linora. Slowly, painfully, hurting Linora far worse than she herself had experienced. It had a certain appeal, especially in the moment with the agony and anguish flooding her mind, filling the void left when she forced Quentin from her mind. And he looked at her with eyes filled with pure hate, the same eyes Linora and Aldane looked at her with, when they finally broke into her mind, when they finally overpowered her psyche.

“That's why I have to try, Kaydia. Because I could be the Baronet, easily."

She felt the truth of his words, the horror of his eyes and his words blowing away her anger at his actions towards Linora. Her Quentin wasn’t a monster. It was a fair trade off, she could admit in the moment.

"But that's me. If you happen to brutally murder her, well... can I just give you a list of questions I'd like you to ask her first?"

She laughed, in spite of herself. That sense of humor was one of the things she loved about him, after all. So she let him back into her mind, knowing that his centering presence was because of the man he was. Knowing that they needed each other, if they were going to live through this chase.

“Toss me mine too,” she asked as he pulled his saber, maneuvering Quentin into position, her mind much clearer now that she was no longer furious with him. “In case I need to ask her some questions…”
 
Quentin laughed, release tinged with relief as he handed over the weapon. "Here. But, right now, I hope you don't need to." He glanced at the approaching skimmer. "Not that I don't think you can handle yourself, mind. I just don't want to be forcibly introduced to gravity."


"Interesting," the Baronet observed, hesitating as his finger hovered over the firing stud. "We're gaining on them."

"Surely that's a good thing?" Linora asked.

"Hardly. They've demonstrated their skimmer can match our speed. So... ah."

"Ah?"

There was a thump as something landed on the hood.

"Do take the controls, Linora," the Baronet remarked, drawing his saber as something blue-white ignited on the hood. "It seems we must stand ready to repel boarders."


No ordinary human could have done it. That was how so many things the Jedi did were described, and the descriptions were so often wrong. But, it was hard to escape the feeling of the superhuman as Quentin lept from the speeder and landed on the front of their pursuer, balancing on the maneuvering vehicle and igniting his lightsaber. The hissing buzz of the blade was lost in the roar of the wind around him, but the effects were clear as he cut away the top of the canopy. It came loose and ripped clear, tumbling and spinning into the blackness of the Telerath skyline. He didn't watch it long, though. The burning crimson blade of another lightsaber caught his eye as the Baronet rose, saluting. "Oh, good show!"

Quentin didn't waste words. He simply spun his blade and lunged, aiming straight for the Baronet's heart. The Sith's parry was a circular motion, lazy in appearance but full of power and skill and control, and his riposte was with the short-bladed saber he held in his off hand. It forced Quentin to scramble backwards, balance precarious as Linora jerked the controls and slewed the skimmer around. "Good show," the Baronet continued, "but poor planning. I, you perceive, have something to brace my legs against."

The skimmer banked, and Quentin moved up the bow and perched half on the side of the skimmer, then danced back as it righted itself. "I've trained with the Dai Bindu," he countered. "Balance is something I understand full well."

The Baronet acknowledged the comment with a little smile. "Ah, I see. Yes, that does change matters." He lunged forward, and a dozen passes of the lightsabers cast crazy shadows across the combatants. "You're quite skilled."

"You're no mean saberman yourself," Quentin acknowledged, reaching into his coat with his free hand.

"I appreciate the compliment, but I am a pale shadow of my master." He spun his blade. "I had the pleasure of being trained in the arts of the saber by Count Dooku."

Dancing along the shifting hull of the skimmer, Quentin engaged him again. As he did, he snapped his wrist out and sent something flying into the air. "Count Dooku? Well then. Perhaps I made a mistake, attacking with the saber."

"Perhaps."

"So it's just as well that I trained with other weapons." As he said it he hopped back, his heels landing on the front of the skimmer. As the Baronet lunged to take advantage of the motion, Quentin reached out with the Force and brought the lanvorak disk screaming like a buzzsaw towards the back of the Sith Lord's neck.
 
There was a cyclical beauty in this death, Aldane noted, as time slowed and the lanvorak disk approached. A sith warrior, cut down by a sith weapon, wielded by a Jedi he had failed to turn to the darkness. It would be a lovely demise as random and absurd as life in the galaxy.

Still, his survival instincts got in the way of his poetic sensibilities. He ducked, just in time, the disk shearing his hair as several white blond strands fell on the skimmer, before blowing away in the haste of flight. Looking up to his opponent, he was just in time to catch a boot to the face, knocking on to his back. Before Quentin could capitalize, the skimmer bank, leaving the Shadow to cling to the side of the vehicle, or risk meeting the ground rather painfully. The Baronet had just enough time to get to his feet as Linora straightened out.

Aldane spun, putting Quentin on the defensive as he blocked both sabers. A high strike, parried, a mid spin, deflected, each move pushing the Jedi back. But Quentin found an opening, requiring a quick block with the offhand blade. Before Quentin could break the dead lock, the skimmer angled up, sending him back over the front once more.


From her speeder, Kaydia watched the fight play out between the two of them, sick with worry. Any time Quentin Seemed to gain an advantage, Linora maneuvered the vehicle to send him off balance, denying him any chance of overcoming the sith. She had to help, somehow, but she was at a loss. Anything she did would endanger Quentin, and he was in enough danger as it was. That they hadn’t crashed yet was nothing short of a miracle…

That was it! She set the skimmer to autopilot, setting a course that avoided the figure eight pattern Linora was piloting. There was a holoneedle along her route, and Kaydia tapped into the force to find the perfect moment to send it crashing into Linora’s speeder. She focused on the 50 meter pole, drawing on her love of Quentin and her hate of Linora to lift it, pulling it free of its platform. Once it was ripped from the roof, all that was left was to push it in Linora’s direction, letting gravity do most of the work in sending it falling against the skimmer. Reaching out to Quentin just before impact, she left him with a single word.

Jump.
 
Jump.

The voice was Kaydia's, carried to him by the Force, and at the same time it was the Force itself. And so Quentin jumped, hurling himself backwards and away from the skimmer. He twisted as he fell, catching a glimpse of fifty meters of broadcast tower plummeting towards the skimmer at terminal velocity, and then he struck the front of another flier. His knees and elbows flexed as Kaydia matched speed with him, breaking his fall and letting him catch his balance. As he did the lanvorak screamed towards him, orbiting his head and body until he could reach out and catch it safely.


Several emotions lashed through Aldane's normally dispassionate demeanor as the Shadow lept and he saw the tower plummeting on an interception course. Amusement. Fear. Fury, No, he would not die like this. So he grabbed his rage, twisting it around him and lashing out with it. Physics itself conspired against him, the mass of the tower augmented by its velocity made it a challenge, but the Dark Side bent to his will and the tower stopped. Elation flooded through him, and he laughed. "Oh, good try! Very good try, Scarlet!"

Then he felt the touch of the Force on the tower, rotating and angling it, aiming it towards the skimmer like a javelin. Gritting his teeth he pushed back, exerting his will to hold the tower in place and to attack the assassin through the Force. Undermine her confidence, he knew, and her control would crumble. Remind her that she was a broken toy, bent to his will, and she would fail. Opening his memories, he chose one and let it flow through the Dark Side...

Her soft hands stroked his cock, streaking his meat with her blood as she did. He could feel her mind screaming as she worked, struggling desperately, hopelessly, against the actions of her body. "Are you wet enough for me?" he purred.

"No..." Her voice was hollow, distant.

"Then you should fix that," he purred. "You want me in you, don't you?"

"...yes," she said, even as her mind screamed no over and over again.

He smiled at that, then reached over to a tray and selected a slim-bladed scalpel. He held it up, letting the dim light glitter on the keen edge, blood-spattered cock pulsing at the sight of the terror in her eyes. Then he pressed the handle into her hand, folding the Dark Side around her mind as he did. Her body moved like a puppet, entirely outside the control of her struggling, terrified mind, and he allowed her to whimper in pain as her unwilling hand drew the scalpel over her labia. Not deep. Long and shallow, searing pain and welling blood flowing over her fingers and into her slit. "Touch yourself for me," he whispered. "Show me how much you want me."
 
She could feel the memory on her skin, his cock pulsing in her hand, asynchronous to the throbbing of her split palm, coating him in bloody lubrication. Kaydia screamed as the scene replayed itself in her mind, screamed in response to the sharp slice against her sex, psychic agony slashing at her sanity.

Still, she refused to retreat into herself. Refused to stand down in the face of this assault. Orange fire cut through the tears flooding her eyes, and she redoubled her efforts to kill them. The man who had done it to her, and the woman who had given her over to him. Gripping the antenna with force hands, she drove it into their skimmer the way he had driven himself inside her. Metal screeched as it was ripped open and pinned to the roof of a skyscraper.


Linora tried to steer out of the path of the incoming transmitter, but with one hand such precise maneuvers were nearly impossible. As the Baronet lost the contest of will against Scarlet, she pushed herself out of the pilot’s seat. The force propelled her out of the skimmer, jumping with inhuman strength and rolling along the rooftop of the neighboring building. Aldane landed nearby, actual rage written on his face this time. Laughing as if his mind were cracking, he bellowed towards the other skimmer, “Come and finish me off, Scarlet!”


Leaping to the hood of the skimmer, she ignited her saber, glowing as radiant as the crimson flames in her eyes. “Take the wheel,” She called to Quentin, voice distorted by the hatred consuming her heart, “I’m going to end this, now!”
 
Linora awkwardly pushed herself to her feet, her dead right arm cradled against her body by its improvised sling. Aldane laughed wildly, taunting their two adversaries, and the Dark Side was a palpable miasma around him. She drew strength from it, harnessing her own fear and rage to call her lightsaber to her hand. The blade was a violent dark red, the color if old blood, and her grip as she ignited it was sure. Quentin had taken her dominant hand and more than half of her arm, but she had trained hard to learn to wield her saber in her off hand.

Nevertheless, she couldn't fully suppress a thrill of dread as she stood there. "Baronet?" she called. "Are you sure this is a...?"

Kaydia landed before them, saber extended out behind her, making her concerns moot.


"Damnit! Kaydia!" Quentin shouted, diving for the cintrols as Kaydia lept. "This isn't... fuck"

She was gone, and he was busy getting the speeder back under control. She was gone, single-handedly attacking a Sith Lord and a fallen Jedi, counting on her incomplete training and her burning rage to carry her through, and skilled as she was he didn't think it would be enough. The Sith didn't simply embrace the darkness, they were the darkness. And she would need to be even more monstrius than he was, to defeat him with the power of darkness.

He loved her for who she was, lived the knife-edge of dark and light in her soul and her constant struggle. He didn't want to see her consumed or destroyed. "I'm coming, Kaydia," he muttered. "I'm comung."



"Scarlet," Barinet Aldane purred, "how good of you to join us - so much like old times. But you don't need a lightsaber..." He smiled, allowing the scent of roasted meat to waft on the breeze. "My tastes are so much less sophisticated than the ones you... developed."

Linora watched them both, wary. Was the Baronet mad, egging her on like this? Or... did he have a strategy?

"No?" Aldane said, voice disappointed. "Very well." He shifted his stance, twisting his body and angling his lightsaber outwards, the shoto held behind him. "Come to me then, Scarlet. Let me complete your training."
 
The Baronet was ready and waiting for her as she landed, manipulating her senses to further enrage her. And there was no doubt it had worked, as she rushed in, mad strikes trying to find flesh to carve. Easily, he parried her blows, his elegant style mocking her fury.

“I remember how you liked two at a time,” He smirked, meeting her overhead, downward slash with both saber crossed before him. With his long blade, he created an opening, forcing the saber from her hands lunging with the shotto. It singed her arm, and he laughed harder at her sharp cry of pain. “I remember how you liked that too.”

He stalked towards her malice shining in his fiery eyes. Both weapons cast red light over her figure, catching on the silver bracelets she wore. Clearly his taunting had worked, and she had fought him in the arena he was most skilled in. What she should have done was force him to fight on terms that were advantageous to her. Flexing her fingers, she realized she still could.

“I’m unsaitisfied, Scarlet!” He taunted tracing her curves with the long blade, “and I will have satisfaction, if I have to wretch it from your body!” He came in with both weapons, striking from both sides, and ensuring that she couldn’t dodge. So she didn’t bother, hands encased in silver mesh gripping his sabers. He seemed shocked for a moment, just long enough for her to light her foot and plant it squarely in his gut. With one strong kick she forced him back and wrested the weapons from his hand, tossing them off the building aimlessly.

Before she could capitalize on his supine position, Linora charged her, crimson blade glowing in her left hand. Kaydia was able to deflect the wild blow, disarming Linora and sending her flying with a force push. Desperate fingers clawed and dug on the ledge of the roof, her feet dangling off the side of the hundred story building. Kaydia held her saber in her hand as she advanced on the Baronet, smiling wickedly at him.

“You want it inside you, don’t you?” she asked, holding the weapon before her. She jabbed it into his shoulder, letting him scream as his skin cooked. “Tell me you like it.” His gut this time, deeper as he squirmed away from her. “Tell me you want it!” Stabbed into his thigh, perilously close to his manhood.
 
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