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Quentin watched Kell undress Kaydia with his eyes, and fought down the urge to break the man's nose. Instead, he half turned and offered her his arm. "Shall we depart?"

She should get out. Scarlet knew she should get out. Get away from him, before she remembered what his love felt like. Instead she looped her arms with his and leaned against him, still craving his heat against her. His hardness against her. Quentin, so it seemed, was of the same mind, ushering them towards the exits, saying a brief good bye to a few people as they left.

There were no words between them, just heat and tension. It was fine, she didn’t really want to talk. Scarlet could feel Quentin averting his gaze as he drove. Forcing himself not to look at her, forcing himself to focus on the road. Still, he hardly made it a kilometer from the party before he turned into a dark, empty parking lot.

Still, there were no words. No words were needed. When their eyes met again, their bodies and lips followed close behind. Once more his hands bunched up her dress, sliding it up over her hips so he could get between her thighs. Her own hands worked his belt and pants, finding them easier to open than his shirt had been. It hadn’t taken long, before he was inside her, pushing her down in the passenger seat of the speeder and he drove into her.

Still, no words. Just moans and gasps and grunts, as their bodies moved together. Just the wet sounds of kissing and of flesh inside flesh, of fluid friction and desperate longing. After awhile he hovered over her, looking down at her, thrusting within her, his eyes wide in amazement. “Kaydia,” he moaned, his tone as grateful as it was needy.

“Linora sent me to kill you,” She found herself admitting, feeling disarmed by the look in his eyes. He stopped for a moment, just staring at her, seemingly processing what she had said. Moments passed in stillness as he throbbed against her tight walls before he found his voice again.

“Are you going to?” He shifted a bit, holding her hips tight against him, his entire length sheathed within her.

“I…” She started, interrupted by a sigh as he flexed a bit, “I don’t know.”

His hand rubbed her thigh as she spoke, before gripping her again to fuck her. Smirking from above her, he listened to the sounds of her cries filling the speeder, “Let’s see if we can’t turn that into a ‘no’. See if I can’t keep you too exhausted with mind blowing sex to complete your mission.”

They were in bed, her husband’s arms wrapped around her. She had been crying, she knew. Crying, and bleeding. Crying because of the bleeding, because of what it meant they had lost. He had been assuring her that it was okay, so long as she was alive, that was all that mattered. They could try again once she was healthy enough. Once she was ready.

“I…I can’t. I can’t do this again. This was the third time, love. The third time in three years. I can’t give you an heir” She choked a bit as the words came out, as she finally gave voice to the silent fears. She let herself mourn that fact, mourn the loss, mourn all the losses her body had failed to carry. He tried to shush her, to console her, brushing through her hair. Repeating a mantra of “it’s okay,” to drown out her tears.

“It’s not okay. There needs to be an heir. Civil war erupts without one,” She insisted, finding some strength in service. Finding the strength to do what needed to be done, in duty and responsibility to their people. “We must take another wife. A wife that can produce an heir. “ He tried to protest, to proclaim his love and devotion to her, and her alone, but it was her turn to shush him now. “It is not a matter of love, my caliph. It is a matter of peace and stability. Our people depend on us, and we have a duty to them.”

“This changes things for you quite a bit, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?”

“I imagine you would want to be out of here that much quicker.”

“Clearly.”

“And I imagine you’d be willing to do a great many things to get out earlier?”

“What are we talking about?”

“The skills you developed as Scarlet. The republic is on the verge of war, and you can make reasonable progress on ending it before it can even begin.”

“How soon?”

“Five years.”

“And my husband? Will he know or?”

“No, and you won’t contact him either, or everything is called off.”

Deep Space 22 BBY​

Fourteen names composed the folders on her data disk. 12 men and women she had killed over the last two years. Another one, the new one, was her target. The last one was her reward, her motivation, her entire purpose for living and going back to her life as Scarlet. It was the only thing that mattered anymore. She opened that one first.


The details were cold and detached, painting a half picture of the child she had hardly known. The child she had held but once since giving birth. Quentin’s daughter, not that he had any clue she even existed. A dozen pictures of a redhead toddler accompanied the fact sheet, and it seemed the girl was happy enough. She showed no signs that she missed her mother or father, no sign that being an orphan had bothered her any. There was an attached hologram showed her playing. Laughing. Oblivious.

Each time it was always the same. She didn’t want to be Scarlet, did want to kill people for some faceless entity . But she saw her daughter, her Mara Jade, and none of that mattered anymore. She couldn’t stop now. If she stopped, everything she had done to this point would have been meaningless. She only hope was to see through this job, and the next, until she was free. Mara would be safe, and she could reunite with Quentin. Would he still love her, if he knew that she had dipped her hands back in blood to protect their child? That she always had been a terrible Jedi; choose love over duty, again and again.

How Long is this Fic Really?: A Guide

Word count in the HP Series:

Sorcerer’s Stones: 76,944
Chamber of Secrets: 85,141
Prisoner of Azkaban: 107,253
Goblet of Fire: 190,637
Order of the Phoenix: 257,045
Half-Blood Prince: 168,923
Deathly Hallows: 198,227

Word count in the LOTR Series:

The Hobbit: 95,022
Fellowship of the Ring: 177,227
Two Towers: 143,436
Return of the King: 134,462

Hi my name is Aurianna Holy’ness Kallekos and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) reaches my mid-back and golden eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Afodisia (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Lord Commander Mykel Kallekos but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a paladin and my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I belong to a religious order of Afodisia. I’m a warrior (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly armor. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my armor from there. For example today I was wearing a golden breastplate with a blood colored cape and a red long skirt. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking a battle field. It was thundering and lightninging so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of demons stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.

Kaydia almost certainly becomes a repressed Jedi librarian, especially if we are going for her being saved from the Black Sun right before she was about to crack. Even more terrified of the grow darkness within her, she doubles down on policing her every thought and action before she can do something unbecoming of a Jedi. Most likely she cloisters herself within the temple, dedicating herself to abstract thought and philosophies and writing treatises on objective morality.

While she is likely grateful to Quentin for rescuing her, she probably doesn't like him very much. "Why is he always so nonchalant, whistling and all that? And why doesn't he wear the desert robes that all the rest of the Jedi wear? Doesn't he realize that I can see how tight and firm his physique is?" Meditating to regain her balance in the force just end with her furiously masturbating and more guilt. And if Quentin even show the inkling of interest in her, in return? It almost certainly ends with her tearing off his clothes and fucking him mad senseless on the floor of the Jedi Archives.

I've considered writing a little snippet where Kaydia's first flame Kazak has become one of the Jedi who seek out force sensitive children, and have their parents turn them over to the Jedi for training. Having Detected Mara Jade's high levels force sensitivity, he is shocked to find the face of women he thought dead for over two decades. The main problem I ran into was the scene doesn't really go anywhere.

I played around with the idea of Demonic Aurianna quite a bit in Redemption, especially while she was trying to cope with her rapes and her feelings of powerlessness in the aftermath.

Matthias blames himself for her fall, and struggles with hat guilt, until he is forced to take on a new apprentice, Clara. Aurianna rises through the ranks to become one of Baath Me'el's top generals/ concubines. She spends a decade wrecking havoc across the demonlands. When they do comes to blows again, Aurianna suspects he will be just another paladin she easily kills. But Matthias trained her, and is familiar enough with her fighting style that he can find the holes in her attacks.

Defeated, she spit venom at him, practically begging him to kill her, threatening Clara with everything that happened to her. He should kill her, he knows. For everything she's done, and all she is capable of. He should, but he can't because if she died, he really will have failed her. (pretty much Obi-wan and Anakin at Mustafar, with a dash of sexual attraction) The only way he can right his failing is to bring her back to the light, and help her find redemption.

Back at the temple, not everyone is so forgiving towards her. A young man who carried a torch for the girl she had been felt especially betrayed by her defection to Baath Me'el. Reasoning that being raped by demons is what turned her into one, she could be cleansed by fucking paladins. At least, that's how Jeoram justifies his late night trips to her cell, determined to fuck the hell out of her. But all she's known is violation and rape, and the part of her that can be hurt by such things has long since been destroyed. Perhaps she can corrupt him enough to convince him to release her bindings.

A month in she gets her wish, when Jeoram visits with a group of his friends. Other paladins who wish to get carnal revenge on the demon whore. After a few round of compliance, they release her bindings, to use her more thoroughly. Which, of course, ends with a dungeon full of slaughtered paladins. From there she flees the temple, taking Clara hostage with the intention of subjecting her to the same suffering she underwent, and prompting Matthias to try and save this apprentice.