Star Wars: The Eclipse before the Dawn (Corsair and Xana)

[TheCorsair]

The door opened, and the skimmer's weight shifted slightly as Senator Organa climbed in. Face buried in a dataslate, he didn't even look at his driver. "The Hall of Deliberations," he instructed absently, tapping at the screen. "I'll be there for two hours, before I need to leave for my appointment with Senator Lirn Adasca."

His attention to his reading hardly wavered as the skimmer smoothly accelerated from the hanger, drifting along the blue-green grass that made up the streets of the capitol. Nor did he register the passers-by, dressed in cloaks and gowns of white and blue. He didn't even notice when the skimmer deviated from the shortest route to the Hall.

"Terrible business, this," he murmured, addressing his driver for the first time. Without looks no up, he tapped his screen for emphasis. "The assassination of Duchess Satine of Mandalore, I mean. And of Senators Lrix Wata and Jmi Folca, and of Jedi Master Kathal Porr." A sigh. "It's almost as if someone is deliberately targeting the most outspoken critics of the erosion of our civil liberties as the war escalates."

For the first time he looked up, his blue-grey eyes meeting hers in the rear display. "Wouldn't you agree, Scarlett?"

---

Earlier...

"I don't know...". Bail sounded skeptical.

"Oh, no," Queen Breha said, examining him with interest. "It's a very convincing likeness."

"I agree that he could pass for me visually, and the voice is a good match," Bail replied. "But... master Jedi, you say a Force-sensitive assassin is coming for me. How can a costume hide you from the Force?"

Quentin grinned at that, twisting to examine the effect of his costume in the mirror. "There are techniques," he said in a voice eerily like Bail's. "Ways to hide your presence in the Force, or to appear to be someone else. And I don't have to fool her for long." The grin faded. "Just for long enough."

 

[Xanaphia]

Kaydia hadn’t expected to see her husband’s eyes staring back at her. Fingers tightened over the steering wheel as he called her Scarlett, the epithet still stinging. He had no idea why she’d gone back to this, why she’d agreed to this. At least he was here now, so she could finally tell him.

What took you so long? She questioned, reaching for him in the force. Feeling that familiar presence in her mind, a comfort once more, even if their roles currently placed them as enemies. I’ve been leaving you clues for over a year…

She turned, deciding to make circle around four blocks so they could hash this out. Even though what she really wanted was to throw herself into his arms. To show him how much she missed him, and feel how much he missed her. If he had…No surely this had been hard on him too.

I was told I could earn a shorter sentenced, if I served the Republic as Scarlett. That I would be saving millions of lives, by helping to end the war more quickly. But as you clearly figured out, the pattern isn’t making sense. I have no idea who is ordering these hits or why. I just know I can’t stop.

She met his gaze again, trying not to cry. He was a few feet away from her now, and it felt so far. I can’t stop, or give up, or run. They weren’t going to trust me with freedom without a compelling motivation to complete my mission. It’s the same reason I couldn’t reach out to you, directly, instead having to leave hints in the crime scenes. They have our daughter, and if I am not successful… She couldn’t finish that thought, gripping the wheel to regain her composure, until her fingers were nearly white. I need you. Our daughter needs you.

 

[TheCorsair]

Scarlett.

He could feel the flinch in her mind, see it in her features as he used that name. The name she'd abandoned years ago, when she returned to the Order. The name she'd taken up once more.

What took you so long? she asked, and the pain in her thoughts made him want to take her in his arms and hold her, never let her go.

No, that wasn't true. Was it? He'd wanted to do that the moment he saw her.

I’ve been leaving you clues for over a year… she added, thoughts accusing as she circled back.

He sighed, making a show of checking his slate in case they were being watched. I wasn't involved in most of those murders, he replied. I've been hunting Dooku and Kenobi, and Ventris. It was sheer luck that I happened to be near Mandalore when Sir Kento and Sir Mallie requested an investigator.. He looked up again, meeting her gaze. What happened? I was told you... you'd been executed!. Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't have hid the pain in that thought. Not from her.

I was told I could earn a shorter sentenced, if I served the Republic as Scarlett. That I would be saving millions of lives, by helping to end the war more quickly.

"What?" The word escaped him, so ridiculous was the idea. "The..." The assassination victims are...

She clearly knew where his thoughts were going, though. But as you clearly figured out, the pattern isn’t making sense. I have no idea who is ordering these hits or why. I just know I can’t stop.

There was an aching or toe in her mind that matched his own, sorrow mingled with fear. He leaned forward, gripping her shoulder with his hand, wanting to hold her now. "You can!" he insisted.

I can’t stop, or give up, or run, she insisted, radiating terror.

"You can!" he repeated. "We can! Together, whoever' behind this, we can..."

They weren’t going to trust me with freedom without a compelling motivation to complete my mission. It’s the same reason I couldn’t reach out to you, directly, instead having to leave hints in the crime scenes. They have our daughter, and if I am not successful…

"Daughter?" Quentin's eyes widened, emotion hitting him like a fist as he saw his wife's memories. Saw the pictures of a smiling, red-haired toddler. Felt brief sense-memories of a warm bundle in his - her - arms, and the desperate struggle to hold her a minute longer when she was taken.

I need you. Our daughter needs you, Kaydia said, knuckles White on the steering wheel.

There is emotion but there is peace.. Quentin shook, trembling with barely restrained fury at the realization of what had been done. There is emotion but there is peace. What had been done to his wife. There is emotion but there is peace. What had been done to the daughter he'd never met. There is emotion but there is peace.

Outwardly, he maintained a calm facade. Except for the trembling in his hand, and the flare of his nostrils. There is emotion but there is peace.

A brittle popping sound echoed in the skimmer as a jagged crack raced up the windshield. More popping followed as the windows transformed into a lacework pattern of crystal fragments.

There is emotion but there is peace.

Quentin's fists clenched, and the windows exploded outwards. "Who are they?" he asked, voice inhumanly calm in the silence.

 

[Xanaphia]

Even as he shattered the glass with the unrestrained force of his anger, Kaydia was not afraid of Quentin. Afraid for him, perhaps, but never afraid of him. He’d never hurt her, she knew, a fact he’d proven a dozen times. She trusted him, more than she trusted even herself. And his fury with a presence, in their minds, consuming and dark as he struggled for control.

His reaction made sense. Her situation had been gradual, optimistically hopeful at first, when she believed she was doing good, and her daughter was merely in protective custody. But when she dared to question the validity of her assignment, and received an ultimatum. Either her target dies, or Mara does. She had months to process the rage and sorrow from her situation, to form a plan to contact Quentin.

“Who are they?” His tone would have been terrifying, if she didn’t have such trust in him. He still hadn’t met his daughter, but his desire to protect her was just as strong as if he had been there with her since birth.

She turned into the abandon warehouse she had prepared to kill Bail, not trusting herself to drive anymore. “I don’t know…” She said, words on the verge of a sob, as if she were the one who had failed to protect Mara. “I was being held on Stygeon Prime, when my pregnancy was uncovered. I thought I was being held by the republic. Did the Separatists capture it?” She was babbling now, desperate to pass as much information to him as possible. Something, anything he could use to find their child.

her memories, she let him see that first meeting, when she agreed to become Scarlet, hoping there might be something he could glean from it. “I’ll give you everything I have, whatever you need.” She offering, joining him in the back seat now. Taking the data pad from his hands, to copies all her files on to it. Desperately, needy fingers brushing against his, cognizant of how much she missed his warmth. “Just find her.”

Then she leaned back in the seat, panic flaring up in her mind, “I still need to kill Bail,” she explained, defeated, “Or figure out something. I have just over two more weeks to meet this assignment’s deadline. I haven’t missed one, so I have no idea what they might do if I did. I just know when I complete my assignment, they send me an update on Mara, and the next one.” She reached for his hand now, needing his strength, “What are we going to do?”

 

[TheCorsair]

"Stygeon Prime." Quentin wracked his memory as Kaydia spoke, outlining her perdicament - no, their family's perdicament - in blunt terms. "Stygeon is a Seperatist system, has been for a while. Intelligence is that Dooku and Kenobi have an interest is the system, but nobidy's ever gitten close enough to find out what."

But this was no time to worry about that. Not yet. "Two weeks. What happens if circumstances conspire to cause you to fail? Your target leaves the system, say?" He frowned. "I don't like thst as a plan, though. Clearly, you need a corpse. How do you prove you succeeded? Just holonet sources, or do you send physical evidence, or what?"

Having a concrete problem helped drain the anger away. "So. The Queen says I do a pretty good Bail - enough that she was making eyes at me. C,learly, you just need to kill me." He grinned at that. "What was your plan? Just lure him into this deserted warehouse? Then what?"

 

[Xanaphia]

“I’ve never failed a mission, Quentin, in my entire time of being Scarlett. Not unless you count the time Linora sent me after you. And I certainly wasn’t going to test their goodwill now. Not with Mara…”

Clearly he agreed, "I don't like that as a plan, though. Clearly, you need a corpse. How do you prove you succeeded? Just holonet sources, or do you send physical evidence, or what?"

“Physical evidence, yeah.” She replied, brushing hair behind her ear.

“So. The Queen says I do a pretty good Bail - enough that she was making eyes at me.”

Kaydia laughed at that, the first real laugh in years. That was the man she fell in love with, the ever the optimist, ever playful, always bringing out the best in her. “You’ve never really known just how handsome you are.” The smile he gave her only made things worse, reminding of her of all she lost by doing the “right thing.”

"What was your plan? Just lure him into this deserted warehouse? Then what?"

She pointed towards a small opening between the driver and passenger compartment, “That would emit a knock out gas, giving me a chance to bring him here and get in position. I have the whole place rigged with bombs. It’s supposed to look like a separatist attack. Even have a holovid of an extremist faction taking responsibility for it.” She settled closer to her husband, falling back into familiar patterns of planning, plotting, scheming. Together, they always had been stronger together. Unstoppable.

“Unfortunately, Bail’s more handsome twin isn’t going to be able to get us out of this,” She teased, forcing a smile, just a little. It was easy to smile it at him, after all. “Since a certain senator is fond of using nearly identical body doubles, my contacts require me to use this,” She explained, pulling out a small, pen like object. “It takes a small bit of organic matter, and reads out both the DNA sequencing and the current condition. I need to send them confirmation that I killed the target, and that it was indeed target I was assigned.” She considered for a moment, “So it has to be Bail, and he has to be dead, but just long enough for me to get a reading. Think we can convince him to help us out?”

 

[TheCorsair]

"It has to be Bail, and he has to be dead..." Quentin mused, thinking aloud. Was this how married people usually acted, when reunited with a spouse believed dead for years? Did most couples just fall immediately back into familiar routines and plot how to fake a Senator's death? Maybe he should research that, sometime. "Let me see that."

He took the probe from her, feeling his fingertips tingle as he touched her hand. "Hmmm..." The sound was an unconscious one as he rotated it in his fingers, examining it. Studying it not just with his eyes, but examining the individual components with the Force. "A one centimeter by five millimeter tissue sample. Pity. We shed dead skin all the time, and I'd hoped it would be a way to fool the device."

Handing it back, he considered her question. "I believe he would help us, as long as we didn't really kill him. Tell me... what are you planning? Sednzine injection,so you can stop his heart? Fir that matter, what dies the sampler actually test for, to determine death? Individual cells can remain viable for hours - sometines even days - after brain death."

 

[Xanaphia]

“Usually I collect from the brain stem,” she explained, reaching behind Quentin’s head to show him. Not that she needed to, mind, it was mostly an excuse to touch him. She didn’t bother hiding her longing from him, feeling it from him as well. “Sednizine should work for that. Or Dilaxin. That’s not even the tricky part. The tricky part will be keeping him out of the public eye until you can locate Mara. I very much doubt he wants to back down from his crusade for preserving civil liberties in the face of war.”

Leaning back, she sighed, “We may as well meet with him, see if he will agree to help us out. Otherwise we have less than two week to try and find Mara together, and if that’s the case, we are going to need every second we can get.”

---

“You kill all these people?” Bail asked, looking over the files on her data disk, “Most of these haven’t even been reported as murders.”

“I’ve done what I had to do, to keep my daughter safe,” Kaydia explained. Was this why attachments were forbidden? Because a Jedi could be turned into a brutal killing machine just to protect a loved one?

“I can use this,” Bail admitted, meeting her eyes now, “With this evidence, I can push back against the tide of security hawks, looking for any excuse to suspend basic liberties and unleash their worst prejudices. We might even be able to use this to encourage peace talks with the separatists, and finally put an end to this war.”

“And are you quite certain this is the same child you gave birth to?” Queen Breha asked, cycling through the pictures of Mara. Kaydia stiffened, that same worry having played through her thoughts as well.

“I can’t be certain, no. But…I still feel her. It’s intermittent at times, and distant now, but I feel her. She is alive, right now. I know I can’t entire trust the person behind this, but if there is a chance to keep her safe and alive, I can’t stop either.”

The queen nodded, “I suspect most parents would do the same. Whatever it took to keep their child safe. What can we do, to help?”

“Well, first we would need to induce a deathlike coma in Bail, just long enough for me to get a reading. Afterwards, everyone would have to commit to the story that Bail has died. Which means that we have to keep this secret limited to a small circle of people. Every person that knows the truth increases the odds that it gets out. Bail will have to be hidden away, and you will need to present yourself in mourning to the galaxy.”

“We can spend some time at the Cloudshape Falls, alone. It’s not like we had a chance to be alone together since the war broke out.” Breha insisted, taking Bail’s hand, “I announce my intention to spend my mourning there.”

 

[TheCorsair]

"You are absolutely certain this is safe, Master Quentin?"

Bail sat on the smooth white top of a repulsor-suspended medical bed, holding Breha's hand and eying the 2-1B unit skeptically. It was the third time he'd asked since they had started making preperations, but Quentin didn't blame him. The thing they were asking if him required a great deal of trust, after all. So he nodded in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "It is. I've used sednzine twice, myself. Under field conditions, might I add. You'll be under medical care the whole time."

Bail drew a deep breath, then nodded. "All right. Do it."

The 2-1B nodded, and the medical Treadwell extended a tool arm. There was a soft hiss as the tip touched his throat. Bail gasped, turning suddenly pale, and shook violently. Breha bit her lip, clutching his hand as his breathing slowed and then stopped.

Quentin caught Kaydia's hand in sympathy, squeezing it gently as he reassured himself that she was there. That she was real. The fear and agony rolling off the Queen of Alderaan was heartbreaking, and the trust she placed in the Jedi Order - in him, personally, as their representative - was humbling. "Twoonebee?" he asked, voice soft.

"Senator Organa's pulse has slowed to one heartbeat every 137.221 seconds," the droid replied. "Brain wave activity is functionally nonexistent." It looked at Kaydia. "Please extract the tissue sample you require. The Senator may be kept safely in a sednzine-induced coma for approximately 10 hours without looking for support, but the sooner he is revived the better."

 

[Xanaphia]

“Right,” Kaydia nodding, watching Bail slip into a near death coma. Placing the probe right against the back of Bail’s head, she took the sample and sent off the reading to her contact. Then she held her breath, waiting. A minute passed before she heard a beep on her data pad, opening the incoming message with haste. A new folder, labeled Mina Bonteri, and another update on Mara.

The droid was the administering the Adrexal, which would counteract the effects of the Sednzine, but Kaydia hardly paid it any mind, flicking through the latest images of her daughter. When she reached the last one, she felt the tears come up, burying her pain in Quentin’s chest. It only took a moment to regain her composure, scrubbing the tears from her eyes as Bail gasped desperately. 2-1B placed a breathing mask over his face.

“Relax Bail,” it insisted in voice that was designed to be soothing, “It may take up to five minutes for your breathing to return to normal. Heart rate is steady, Delta wave activity has returned to normal. Theta wave activity returning to optimal levels. As of now, there are no lingering effects from the Sednzine, but there will be drowsiness and lethargy for the next 24-48 hours.”

“Very good, Twoonebee,” Breha acknowledged, her voice filled with relief and hope and concern. She took a deep breath and turned to Quentin and Kaydia, “I’ll make a formal announcement tomorrow morning, delaying the funeral until we get comprehensive autopsy results. Hopefully that will buy you the time you need, Master Jedi.” She ran her fingers through Bail’s hair, clearly grateful to have her husband back, even if he was only gone for a moment.

“Thank you so much, your highness,” Kaydia said, “I don’t know how we could possibly repay you.”

“We all have the same goal, to preserve and protect the Republic. It is fortunate that our aims align at this time,” Breha decided, placing a comforting hand on Kaydia’s shoulder. “I know you are on a time table, but you both look like you could use a night’s rest. There is a room prepared for you, in the south wing. Completely private, with direct access to your ship.”

---

The apartment the queen had assigned them was starkly white with black furniture, all angular lines and sleek details. Extremely comfortable, but she imagined she’d be just as comfortable on The Scrapper. So long as Quentin were there with her.

Kaydia found she hardly recognized the green eyes and red hair that stared back at her in the mirror. When had she last worn her own face? “Mina Bonteri is a separatist senator, on Onderon. Once again, the most vocal proponent of peace with the Republic. Whoever is assigning my missions wants war between the CIS and the Republic. Do you think this is the doing of the Sith? To cast havok and turmoil among the masses? To what end?”

 

[TheCorsair]

Quentin leaned against a blindingly-white wall, watching as Kaydia scrubbed away her disguise. He'd known it was her. He'd have recognized her in any of her disguises. But to see those jade eyes as she removed the contacts? To see her copper hair cling wryly to scalp and shoulders as she rinsed out the dye? He shivered, wondering why he hadn't been able to sense her presence in the Force until now.

Because the Supreme Chancellor himself told you she'd been executed. Why would you have gone looking?

"Mina Bonteri is a separatist senator, on Onderon," she said, Rowling her hair dry. "Once again, the most vocal proponent of peace with the Republic. Whoever is assigning my missions wants war between the CIS and the Republic. Do you think this is the doing of the Sith? To cast havok and turmoil among the masses? To what end?”

"It has to be the Sith," Quentin replied, pushing aside - for the moment - everything he wanted to say to concentrate on the question at hand. "Jard Dooku was confirmed to be the Sith Lord Darth Tyrannous at the start of the war. He probably trained the Sith Lord Maul, and he broke and turned Master Kenobi."

Pushing away from the wall, he began pacing back and forth. "Most Jedi forget this, but the Sith were a galactic power once. They nearly broke the Republic on five different occasions, and Dooku probably wants that again. To build a new Sith Empire out of the ashes of the Republic. The CIS is just his tool to achieve that."

Suddenly he spun, catching Kaydia in his arms and pulling her into an embrace. "And I don't care," he exclaimed, voice shaking with emotion. "Not right now. You're alive! I thought... that is... you'd been executed! I thought you were dead!"

Finally, the tears came. He shook as he held her, clinging to her like a lifeline. "Alive. You're alive. And we have a daughter." He stared into her eyes, voice shaking. "We'll find her, love. We will." And then he was kissing her, desperate and hungry and making up for lost years.

 

[Xanaphia]

That was the Quentin she remembered, spouting off historical precedent. She half expected to get into a debate with him, on which conflict Dooku’s plan most closely resembled. In another time perhaps, when they both weren’t weighed down with burden of a missing daughter.

“You're alive! I thought... that is... you'd been executed! I thought you were dead!"

She wanted to be playful, make a joke about how often he mistook her for dead. But three years of longing drained away playfulness. Instead, she clung to Quentin. Marveling at how good this felt, being wrapped up in his arms, against his chest, his warmth and strength enveloping her. “I missed you so much,” she admitted, arms tight around his back “So much.” The kiss was needy, one hand trailing up the back of his neck. Holding his head close to hers, holding herself close to him.

She couldn’t dare pull away from her now. Not ever as kissing got in the way of undressing. She craved his touch, fingertips on bare skin, and she craved his mouth and she craved that completion of having him inside her. Still, she managed topless as his mouth moved along her jaw and throat, and she was kicking off her pants as he explored her. It wasn’t much different than he would have remembered. A bit softer in places, with faded pale stretch marks on her abs and an angry pink scar just above her pubic mound, nearly running the width of her hips.

Without realizing it, she was undressing him, tearing at his shirt and his pants and his belt. Single-minded in her goal to remove everything that separated them, as his thoughts and feelings merged in her mind, her own reaching for his. Even after all these years, nothing was as comforting as his presence in the force. “Love me,” she implored, opening his shirt to his chest, opening to that same tattoo she wore on her shoulder. “Love me Quentin.”

 

[TheCorsair]

It was too much to take in, the emotiins too raw and too strong. His hands explored her, tugging at her blouse as she peeled it off and threw it aside, cupping her breasts and tasting her lips as she hopped and danced out if her slacks. Three years had wrought subtle changes on her, softening belly and breasts and widening her hips, but she wasn't the only one. He wore new scars, and his muscles weren't quite as defined as they had been. But he didn't care, and coukd sense that she didn't either. She was his, his Kaydia, returned once more.

He fell to his knees before her, caressing hips and thighs and stomach with string hands and gentle lips. Thumbs stroked the scar acrosx her lower abdomen, but she pulled him back up before he could do more. His movements echoed her need, her desperation to feel him as she pulled and tore at his clothes, and then her bare body was warm against him as she pulled him tight. "Love me," she demanded, begged of him.

"Always," he answered, moving one arm and then the other as she pulled his shirt away.

"Love me Quentin," she implored.

"Always, Kaydia," he groaned, hands fisting in her hair as he pushed her into the wall and kissed her deeply. His eyes closed, ficusing on her warmth and flavor, her contours as he devoured her curves with his touch. "Always," he gasped, one hand sliding over her bare thigh as her leg wrapped around him. His otherarm hooked under her rear, lifting her, letting her feel his hard length slidingbagainst her.

There woukd be slow and gentle loving later. Right now, he was desperate to be with his wife. To be in her, joined to her, and the sound he made as he entered her was a groan of ecstatic hunger. "Kaydia," he moaned as he fiund her slick and ready for him. "My Kaydia. Mine."

 

[Xanaphia]

“Quentin!” she sobbed out, trying to hold back the tears, trying and failing as he pushed into her. As she sunk down on him, surrounding him with her warmth reflecting the way he surrounded her with arms. Their love and need flowing and merging together, becoming one as their bodies did. Fingers dug into his shoulders, still strong, bulging with the effort of holding her up. Her back thudded against the wall each time he drove into her, echoed by a wordless, grateful, animal cry of pleasure and need.

He was so thick inside her, the missing years leaving her unaccustomed to his girth. She couldn’t say she’d been faithful, a fact that filled her with shame. A fact she wouldn’t have changed. She had done what was necessary to protect Mara, and her entire body was a tool that end. But this wasn’t in service to bastards who held her daughter hostage. This was for her, to satisfy her need and his, to reconnect with the husband she was desperately missed.

So, she didn’t resist as each stroke demanded more of her, parting her wall on his hard steel meat. Didn’t deny him, even as flexing thighs pulled him close and refused to let go. Didn’t want to stop, even as gravity pulled her down his shaft, slamming into her far barrier each time. She could be sore tomorrow. Tonight she was all his.

“Quentin, fuck, I love you.” The word burst put in breathy rasps, as she stared into his eyes. Not daring to break the contact between them, “I need you. Cum with me, please…”

 

[TheCorsair]

The feel of her body against him, around him, moving with him. Quentin coulld feel her thoughts and emotions and knew she could feel his as well. He knew she hadn't been faithful, and knew why, and didn't care. He hadn't been either, believing her dead. Sheila and her faylen had aZeltron's aporoach to mourning, and there had been others. Some as part of his cover, others out of need or desire. But none like her. Nine like his Kaydia.

"Fuck," he gasped, driving into her cunt again and again. "I... Kaydia, I love you. Kaydia." She moved with him, body accepting him, arms and legs gripping him. The sound of his flesh striking hers filled the air, mingled with the sound of his cock moving within her. He leaned in, pressing her into the wall, pressing his body into hers. "Kaydia," he groaned.

"Quentin, fuck, I love you," she gasped, staring into his eyes. Staring into his soul.

"I love you," he gasped back, norlt slowing.

She pulsed around him, and her grip tightened. "I neecld you. Cum with me, please."

"I need you," he answered, fuckingbfaster. Harder. "Always... always needed you... Kaydia... Kaydia!" His orgasm hit him with unexpected force, transfirming her name into a gutteral cry as he drive into her once again. His cock pulsed within her, emptying his pleasure into her in a hot spray of cum."

 

[Xanaphia]

His infidelity –if it could even be called than, given her apparent demise– didn’t bother her. Not really. It was merely physical, after all. Whatever he had shared with others, it was just his body. Just sex. He never shared a bond with any of them, not like he had with her. That part of him, his thoughts and emotions and inner life? That was all for her alone.

No one that either of them slept with would have a moment like the one they currently shared. A moment where they came together, Bliss and love and need bleeding form her mind to his, until they were both consumed. Until the distinctions between her and him were blurry and faint. Unnecessary. Just perfect intimacy between them. Perfect intimacy that lingered after he finished in her, leaning against him and the wall. Clinging to him still, as his body was warm against hers. His devotion, warm within her mind. His seed, warm inside her body.

“I love you,” she whispered again, when she could manage words. He would feel that from her, without need for the words, certainly, but the words were more for her than for him. Because she needed to say it, to repeat it, to express it and make up for lost time since she had last seen him. “Fuck, I needed that. Almost as much I need you.”

 

[TheCorsair]

"I... I needed... needed you..." he gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "Always... needed you..."

Quentin's shoulders and back ached from the effort of supporting her, and sweat streamed down his chest where her heat had mingled with his. He didn't care. Not now. Not right now. Instead he kissed her, the passion he'd spent within her still alive as he tasted her. Explored her. Remembered her.

Then he winced as his back twinged. "Not... not quite a young as I used to be," he laughed, untangling himself. He still held Kaydia though, lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the bed so he wouldn't have to let her go. The act was a little more difficult than he remembered. Had she gained weight? Had he lost muscle? No matter, he decided as he laid her down and crawled in beside her. It didn't matter in the slightest.

"There are so many questions I want to ask," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her. "So many things I want to know.". He cupped her breast, lightly pinching her nipple. "Most can wait, though. But I need to know...". His fingers slid lower, over her smooth stomach and between her legs. "Do you still enjoy this?". Two fingers caressed her slit, still wet with their mingled cum. He bit her ear and eased a finger in, groaning at her heat. "My fingers, filling you?"

 

[Xanaphia]

"Not... not quite a young as I used to be."

“Neither of us are, But I always did want to grow old with you,” Kaydia admitted, nuzzling his jaw as he carried her, enjoying the attention way too much. It was so easy to slip back into old times with him. So easy to cast off the burdens she had carried for too long. She just wanted a little time in his arms, a little time to feel light and carefree. Maybe not so light, as Quentin strained to carry her the short distance, but there wasn’t time to feel self-conscious. Not as Quentin embraced her with his love and desire.

"There are so many questions I want to ask," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her. "So many things I want to know."

“There’s so much I want to tell you. So much I’ve wanted to tell you, all these missing months,” She murmured, as heartbreak reared its ugly head, ready to drag her back down from the euphoria of being with her husband once more. But whether he sensed her need for lighter conversation, or needed it himself, Quentin was playful with her. As if nothing had come between them.

"Do you still enjoy this? My fingers, filling you?"

“Oh yeah, you wonder that, do you?” She giggled, and then gasped, remembering just how good it really did feel. Remembering their little games of teasing each other in public through the force. Remember how often she lost those contents, with a visible shudder or an audible gasp. Not hiding such shudders or gasps now, as two delightful digits probed her. “Is there really…any…doubt?” Her back arched into him, hungering for more of his fingers and touch. More of the husband she had missed so much.

“Let…me…let me…assuage… your doubts…” She was damn near helpless against his caress, feeling no shame in melting into orgasmic bliss. Her hand stroked his face, stroking the facial hair he had worn to disguise himself as Bail. Facial hair he still wore. She liked it, she decided. Hoped he might keep it. As her rapture built, her held his face, held his gaze, letting her pleasure flow from her mind to his. Making him feel it, the clenching and the fluttering and the rippling. The squirming legs and bucking hips and the squeezing walls. Finally, when she could take no more ecstasy, she pulled him close, capturing his mouth in a needy kiss.

The kiss persisted, as release ebbed and flowed along her nerves and through their bond. Her lips were sore when she pulled away to breathe, but not sore enough to discourage a second or even third kiss. “Tell me, my husband, what did you miss most these past few years?”

 

[TheCorsair]

Her kisses were delightful, and when combined with her reaction to his touch they made him begin to grow hard once more. But her question dampened that response, reopening old wounds. "You," he whispered, suddenly wrapping his arms around her. "I missed you the most." He clung to her then, not trusting himself to speak as emotion coursed through him.

"What... what happened?" he asked. He'd touched her memories, of course. That was how he knew he had a daughter. But there were so many unanswered questions. "The Supreme Chancellor.., he said... he said...". His voice choked with emotion, but his thoughts were clear. He said you'd been executed.. Pain and loss flavored the thought, along with shame and self-hatred. "I thought you were dead."

The self-hatred twisted and grew, coiling into fury. Had the Supreme Chancellor lied? Or had he been deceived? He must have been. But, then, how had the Seperatists infiltrated the capitol, infiltrated deep enough to capture a Jedi? How long must they have played their role?

Or... had it been another faction? Black Sun, perhaps? The method fit them, but not the targets. Wholesale political assassination would be unacceptably risky for the cartels. Particularly given the number of Senators along bribes from them.

"What...". Then he bit the question off, pulling her tight and burying his face in her hair. "It doesn't matter. Whoever they are, we'll find our daughter. And then we'll take them apart."

 

[Xanaphia]

“He told you that? The Supreme Chancellor?” She repeated, a shiver going through her body at the thought. “He offered me the plea deal, himself. Maybe…maybe he was just trying to keep it quiet. I did kill a senator, rather publicly. Maybe it was just a matter of keeping law and order.” Still, it all raised more questions, the same questions that had been chasing when they last worked together. The separatists were playing a much bigger game than anyone realized, and their influence went far deeper than anyone believed possible. It was the only explanation that made any sense.

Those concerns were distant now, however. Paled in comparison to the pain in Quentin’s mind, the shame and self-hatred threading his thoughts and words. That wasn’t what she wanted, when she asked her question. She wanted more playfulness, more teasing and flirting, more reconnecting.

So, remembering how he helped her through pervious pain, previous bouts of shame and self-loathing, she poured out her emotions in the force. “My husband,” she whispered against his lips, opening her thoughts. Love that hadn’t diminished over the years, that only grew even in his absence. Desire that had certainly built in his absence, built into a ravenous hunger, demanding more of him this night.

“My love,” she managed as she pulled away from the kiss, moving to straddle him, and sending him more reassurance. Gratitude that he was still hers, that he still loved and needed her as much as she loved and needed him. Hope that he would find their daughter, rescue their daughter and they would be a family.

“My Quentin. And we aren’t done yet. I haven’t seen you in years, and I don’t plan on wasting time asleep. I want you inside me again. Mind and body. Everything, love. All of you.”

 

[TheCorsair]

Kaydia's emotions flowed through him, assuring him that she didn't blame him. Telling him that she loved him, wanted him. Still, it was hard to shake his own somber mood. The parallels between what had happened, and when she'd been captured by Lnora, seemed too strong. But then she presented a compelling distraction by mounting him. He hadn't even realized he'd gotten hard again - distracted by his thoughts even as hers had aroused him - and so the feeling of her weight astride him and her walls gripping him left him wide-eyed and breathless. "Oh fuck, love," he breathed.

He sighed long and low, head rolling back and fingers tangling in the sheets as she clenched around him. "All right,- he laughed when he could finally find his voice, "I understand. No moping, no remonstrating. This is our night.". Grinning, he rocked his hips upwards with enough force to lift his ass clean off the mattress. "The first of many more to come.". He thrust upwards again, watching her move atop him. Watched the way she shifted to keep her balance, admired the sway of her breast and the way her mouth opened in delight. "I've missed this," he breathed, running his palms over her belly. "Missed you. Missed us."

His hands, hard and callused from decades of saber practice and martial arts, cupped her breasts. He felt his own grip through her nerves, felt her blood pound and quicken in his veins. "You feel so good," a voice murmured - hers? Or his own, heard through her ears? It didn't matter. He could taste his tongue as he kissed her, feel her skin slide over his. Opening his own mind, he let her feel his love and his desperate hunger for her. Offered her his memories of the other women he'd had when he believed her dead, hiding nothing from her - a few in the line of duty, a few more to fill a need, none that matched her in his heart or mind. "Mine," he groaned as they moved together. "My love. My Kaydia."

 

[Xanaphia]

It might hurt, the visions he sent her. It could have been stab through the heart, not just seeing his conquests, but being made to feel them, as he had. Seeing him with so many other women. Feeling his pleasure, feeling him seek out that pleasure to fill the void her absence left.

All that remained was the lengths he had gone to move past her. All that, all those women, and still none had replaced her. She wasn’t replaceable. There was a guilty pride in that. Of course, she wanted Quentin to be happy. She would have wanted him to find love again if she were gone, really gone. His life didn’t have to end, just because hers had. But she wasn’t dead, wasn’t gone, and he hadn’t found anyone else. He was still hers, in all the ways that really mattered. Brief flings were just that, flings. Quentin had chosen her, again and again and again.

“Quentin,” she moaned, moaning in time with one of the women in his memories. Not the same name, of course. That was still hers, hers alone. She pushed the memories away, gently, instead reaching for his sensations. “Tonight, you’re all mine. Mine alone. I am very greedy after all this time apart,” she teased, gazing into his eyes, those gorgeous blue-green irises that had consumed so much of her dreams and fantasies. The same eyes she stared into for the brief time she held their daughter.

She wasn’t sure which felt better. His thick cock twitching inside her, or the silken vice of her sex on him. Soft and hot and wet, embracing and swallowing his aching meat. Aching for her. It was such a contrast to the way he felt in her, the hardness parting her walls, the sensation of fullness pushing logic and worry from her mind. Together, it was erotic and euphoric and almost too much carnality. “Fill me, again,” she gasped, throwing her head back as nirvana grew from the pit of her stomach. “Please, Quentin, please… Fuck, I need it. I need…I…need…please….” The word burst in quick rasps, throaty and low and desperate until they were swallowed up by bliss.

 

[TheCorsair]

"Yours," Quentin groaned in unison, hands roaming her body as she rode him. "Yours, and mine.". He could taste her sorrow that there had been others in her absence, as well as her smug pride that none of them had compared. But most of all he could sense her own building pleasure, and not just from the physical act. It was being here, together again, after so long. "Be greedy. Take what you want, my love. All... all that I have."

He felt like an iron bar in her, unbelievably hard as her sex swallowed him. As she rode up and down, the soft, slick walls gripping his aching cock. He rested his hands on her hips, watching her move on him, watching the delicious symphony of her mounting pleasure. She cried out, budy arching and head tossing back, her long copper hair cascading down her back as her orgasm burned bright through her nerves. Maybe he could have held out, drank in the sight and the sensations before bringing her to that peak again. But instead he dug his fingers into her thighs, arching his hips to meet hers. "Kaydia!" he cried as his own pleasure peaked. "Kaydia!" he cried again as he pulled against her walls, hot cum flooding her.

Finally, gasping for breath, he collapsed back against the mattress. Fingertips ran over sweat-slick skin as he pulled her down against his chest. He tasted salt on her lips as he kissed her, flavored by the musky scent of their mingled pleasure. "Mine," he whispered. "Now and forever."

 

[Xanaphia]

“Always yours,” She repeated, breathing hard. Rarely did her missions require her to perform twice in a night, and she was finding herself worn out. Still, sleep was unthinkable, a cruel blink that would see him torn from her arms again. Not for long, she told herself, snuggling against her husband’s chest. Quentin will find their daughter. Bring her home, and keep her safe. They’d be a family again, before much longer.

Sitting up over him, Kaydia nuzzled Quentin’s nose, mischief in her eyes. “Should we have another baby? After we reunite again? I bet Mara would love a little brother or sister to go along with being back with her parents.” She kissed Quentin before he could respond, and rested her head on his chest, tracing his tattoo.

“Carrying her was the only thing that got me through those first few months. Knowing that we had creating something so incredible, together.” Her words were soft, somber. Threatening to bring up the pain again. She pushed it way, a little longer, forcing a smile as she met Quentin’s eyes. “I want that again. I want to share it with you.” One hand caressed his face, letting memories bleed through her fingertips into his mind. Carrying the sensation of carrying Mara. Feeling her, kick, and move and grow. Letting Quentin experience, it all, experiences he’d have no other connection to. Instilling the love, she felt towards Mara in him, knowing that now he too would do anything to get her back. “I want our family back together. And I know you won’t let me down.”

 

[TheCorsair]

He felt it all, the joy and the loss, and the knowledge of everything he'd missed was like the blow of a hammer. Emotions warred and clashed, and in the end all he could do was cling to Kaydia and weep. Weep with joy for what was, and in sorrow for what could have been. Finally, the emotions were spent. "Yes," he finally managed, wiping his eyes. "Once we've rescued Mara, we should... she should have a little brother or sister, along with a mother and a father. And I won't let you - or her - down."

Laying back, he stared at the white ceiling without really seeing it. Instead, he relived memories of a chubby-cheeked infant. If a laughing toddler with wild red hair. "We will find her," he murmured. "And we'll train her to be a Jedi. The strength I sense in her from your memories... she'll be powerful. Maybe as powerful as Sir Anakin.". He chuckled, remembering the intense young Jedi, then frowned as he remembered the circumstances if their meeting. "But with more self-discipline. Skywalker's a loose cannon, too headstrong and too defiant for his own good.". After a moment, he laughed and snuggled into the warmth of his wife. "Of course, I'm hardly one to talk."

Exhausted, Quentin waved a hand in the direction of the light panel and drew on the Force. The room plunged into darkness, and he pulled the covers over them both. "I must be getting old," he yawned, then kissed Kaydia. "We made love twice, and now I'm exhausted.". He kissed her again, lingering over the act. By the third kiss he was atop her, fingers tangled in her hair as he feasted in her. Her body moved against him, her hands exploring him, and he felt himself hardening once more in response to their mingled desire. "Well," he said as her thighs parted and he entered her once more, "maybe I'm not all that old yet..."

---

Bail shifted awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable and more than a little turned in by the feed from the spy camera. "So, uhm, I think we can, ah, assume she's telling the truth."

Breha shifted as well, staring at the screen. Her long, slim finger toyed with the neck of her gown. "it certainly seems that way, yes. Master Quentin is clearly, uhm, not deceived."

"What now?" he asked.

"Now?". The Queen of Alderaan slid smoothly into her husband's lap, kissing him eagerly. "Now," she murmured, catching his wrists and bringing his hands to her breasts. "What do you think?"