Summary: Life is complicated, no matter how black and white one chooses to see the galaxy. However, when children are added into the mix, the possible outcomes of a situation multiply exponentially. These are a recording of a valuable lessons that two seemingly simplistic career men learn about raising families in the middle of a war.

Author's Note: I've received a lot of requests to bring Jorgan's triplets back, and to be honest, I've been toying with the idea of trying my hand with the Wrath/Quinn romance and somehow this happened.

Comeuppance

Dromund Kaas
Residence of Darth Lyesh Hassir

In light of our close relations, I thought it prudent to compile an infant contingency report.

Bearing a child will temporarily sap your strength, creating a need for increased defenses. Once born, the infant will require constant guard against your many enemies. I also recommend Broonmark and Pierce be kept at a distance.

With our connections, entry into the Empire's top military academies shouldn't be an issue. If Force sensitive, the child will continue your legacy at the Sith Academy.

Merely something to consider, my lord. Should the matter arise, I will gladly nurture our offspring—without sacrificing work performance, of course.

Quinn sighed as he read over Lyesh's shoulder. "Yes, Malavai?" He heard the smirk in her voice and cursed the way that it lightened his heart. After his attempt on her life, Quinn tried to remain grateful that she spared his at all times. He took nothing for granted, and acknowledged that, despite the years they'd cohabitated peacefully, she could renege on that mercy at any moment. With each passing year, his resolve faltered, and he became more comfortable at her side.

"If I'd known you planned to keep that ghastly missive, I would have attempted to make it more romantic." Lyesh leaned back in her chair to look up at him. Even with the outlandish angle - the top of her head pressed against his stomach - she still managed an impressive eyebrow raise.

"Malavai," Lyesh crooned, and he rolled his eyes. "You haven't a romantic bone in that terribly alluring body of yours." She pushed back from the desk, forcing Quinn to step lively to avoid having his toes rolled over. He considered arguing Lyesh's point, but feared that he would lose. In truth, his strength had always been firmly in the literal, rather than the poetic.

The sound of squealing saved Quinn from the need to defend his romantic prowess. Pounding feet echoed down the hallway, followed shortly by a muttered curse from of one of the house slaves. The thunderous ruckus grew in strength, then faded as the perpetrators flew past. Quinn shared a look with his wife, and Lyesh's smirk grew. "Five . . . Four . . . Three . . . Two . . . One." Shattering glass reverberated from the foyer. Both Sith and major held their breaths, heads tilted to the side while listening for the inevitable wail.

When it came, Quinn sighed and strode from the room. Keeping his steps light, he marched with purpose towards the whimpering of his youngest daughter. As he rounded the corner, the source of the clattering came into view. A vase, one that had been in Lyesh's family for generations, lay in pieces on the floor. Alia sat in the midst of the shards sniffling, and he scooped her in his arms before turning a stern glare on her sisters. Three pairs of clear, blue eyes glared back at him. "With me, all of you."

"I'll see to the mess, Major Quinn," one of the house staff said with bowed head. Malavai nodded as he passed, leading the troublesome youths to their mother.

Opening the door, Quinn shifted Alia to his hip and motioned for the rest to file inside. It was a credit to Lyesh's skill that they obeyed. Each of their daughters had shown propensity for the Force, effectively outmatching him. Should they choose, Quinn would be wholly at the mercy of his four daughters.

Once they were all inside, Quinn shut the door and motioned towards Lyesh's desk. "Positions, ladies." Alia clung to his uniform, wrinkling the buttons, while the rest took up their standard spot before their mother. These meetings became more commonplace the older the girls grew, and the rug nearly bore the imprints of their shoes from how often they stood there.

Lyesh looked over her daughters, then examined the toddler in Quinn's arms. When she appeared satisfied that no serious injury had occurred, her bright, red eyes turned back to their children. "Ninla, explain."

While only seven years old, Ninla took more after Malavai. She kept her temper in check most days, and preferred clever ploys to outright brutality. It helped in evading her older sisters, though she did not seem to feel overly protective of the younger. Quinn wondered if that would change with age, or if she would eventually isolate herself from everyone.

Quinn remained silent as the only raven haired girl of the brood stepped forward. Lyesh was a powerful Sith lord and the former Emperor's Wrath. Disciplining the four, unruly girls fell squarely on her shoulders. She taught them how to hone their anger and pain into a force to rival those of their enemies. While Quinn detested seeing any one of his children suffer, Lyesh was of the mindset that children of a prominent political figure were never without rivals. Malavai was hard pressed to disagree, and kept his grievances to himself.

Ninla squared her shoulders, looking Lyesh directly in the eyes. "Ygrin and Zheth were dueling, and Alia wanted to join them. I tried to tell her that it was a bad idea, but toddlers seldom listen to reason." Lyesh cast a rueful glance at her husband, and Quinn felt the corners of his mouth twitch. Malavai prided himself on his attention to detail and ability to present a logical, stoic demeanor no matter the situation. However, his children often found a way to circumvent his defenses, and he glimpsed himself in the exasperated child.

"When they refused her," Ninla continued, as if delivering a battlefield briefing. "Alia attempted to throw a vase, but it proved too heavy, and she dropped it on her foot." The toddler in question squirmed in Quinn's arms when Lyesh's gaze fell on her again. Alia's eyes grew wet, and she poked a tiny, pink tongue out at her traitorous sister. Malavai inhaled a slow, deep breath and nearly resorted to biting the inside of his cheek in order to appear unmoved.

Lyesh sighed and regarded the two oldest girls. "Ygrin and Zheth, you will see me tonight for personal training. For now, tell the kitchen staff that we are ready to take our lunch." The girls began to protest, but Lyesh cut them off with a sharp glare. "Ninla, fetch Vette." A brief light entered Ninla's eyes with the prospect of retrieving the Twi'lek, but she soon quashed the emotion and nodded studiously.

When the door shut, Malavai shifted Alia so that he could sit in the chair across from his wife with their youngest daughter perched in his lap. "I often envy your ability to manage them," he admitted while removing the squirmy toddler's shoe. After careful examination, he was satisfied that no permanent damage had been done to her foot. When he looked up again, Lyesh was studying him. She did so often, more when he interacted with one of their children, though he'd never asked why.

"Ygrin's application for the Sith Academy should have arrived by now," Lyesh said without warning. Quinn felt his spine go rigid at the prospect of sending her so far from home. After a few moments of silence, Lyesh steepled long fingers under her chin. "Do you think she is ready?"

Korriban had been destroyed early on in the war with Zakuul—Quinn refused to refer to it as an Eternal Empire—and he would be lying if he denied how his stomach grew queasy at the thought of sending his daughters to train in those ruins. While most children were snatched from their families the moment Force sensitivity was discovered, there were some who held enough power to postpone this inevitability. Lyesh held such sway, and they had decided at Ygrin's birth that should any of their children prove eligible, they would enter the Academy at the age of thirteen. Now that the moment drew nigh, it felt far too soon.

Of all their children, Ygrin was the strongest and most brutal. If any stood a chance at survival, it would be her. Granted, that was before Korriban had become a target for a military might the likes of which they have never seen. Arcann had raised the stakes dramatically.

Quinn came out of his own thoughts with the knowledge that Lyesh still waited for his reply. "I do not relish the thought of sending her away," he finally admitted.

"You doubt that I will ensure my daughter is properly prepared for her trials?" Lyesh raised a thin, red brow. "Her failure would not only lead to the needless sacrifice of one of my offspring, but it would bring shame upon my position in the council. I'll not allow either of those things to happen."

Alia's head snapped around as the door to the study opened again. She'd learned to distinguish those closest to her through the Force only a short while ago, and her renewed glee at each recognition was fascinating to behold. "There's my girl," the blue Twi'lek cooed, and Alia slid from her father's lap to race into Vette's arms. "Nap time?" She asked with a smirk.

"Indeed, she has taken to throwing furniture at her sisters," Lyesh responded to her old friend. Quinn kept his back to the door, still pondering his wife's words about shame and dishonor.

"Sith are so weird," Vette chuckled. "Anything else while I'm here?" The Twi'lek had helped raise all of their children, and each girl had a unique bond with the former slave. Quinn did not harbor any misconceptions that Vette's role in their existence had anything to do with loyalty to him. She had developed a relationship with Lyesh. One that bordered on absurd when, even though freed, Lyesh let her do as she pleased in the public eye.

Lyesh's red eyes fell on Quinn again, and he felt her prod gently at his mind. He could not hide his unease from his wife, nor had he tried. Malavai had vowed to be completely open after the incident with the droids where he shamed himself by being coerced into betraying her. He had yet to go back on that promise.

"No, but good luck with that one," Lyesh answered with a nod towards Alia, all the while her attention remained focused on Quinn. "She's in a testy mood today."

"You don't scare me," Vette mocked while tickling Alia's belly. The toddler's peals of laughter echoed long after they departed.

Silence soon took them over again, and Quinn's thoughts turned inward. He often wondered how Sith loved. Most were a greedy, selfish lot consumed only by the desire for power. Lyesh was no different, yet she'd somehow found room for him in her heart, then expanded it to encompass four, head strong little girls. He was certain that the risk of losing one of her daughters meant more than the shame of failure, though she could never show it. Not even to him.

"You have doubts?" Lyesh prodded more gently than Quinn expected. He nodded, crossing his legs at the knee and staring at the hem of his pant leg. There was a scuff on his boot that he'd need to see to forthwith, but it was merely a distraction from thoughts he did not wish to entertain.

Yes, he had doubts. But, of what, exactly? It took only a moment to reach his answer, and the conclusion was surprisingly liberating. "Not about your ability, or theirs. But, the galaxy is a much different place from when you took your trials. I—"

"You worry," Lyesh finished for him.

Arcann had destroyed or enslaved most civilized worlds, and the appearance of this new Alliance had only made things worse. "Of course, I do," Malavai all but snorted. "I'm their father."

"Ygrin will be ready, and she will make us proud." Quinn studied his wife's face, wishing that he had even a fraction of her ability to see through lies. She sounded so confident in her assessment of Ygrin's abilities that he sorely wanted to share in it.

Another knock at the door halted their conversation again. Quinn swallowed his discontent and waited to see who needed Lyesh this time. It wouldn't be Vette; the Twi'lek hadn't knocked on a door since he'd met her.

"Ygrin?" Lyesh asked in a stern tone. Quinn angled himself to better glimpse their oldest striding purposefully across the room. Her fiery hair stuck out at odd ends in the latest fashion of the girls at her school. He'd been livid when she came home with her long braid reduced to what consisted of a man's hairstyle. She'd met his anger with her own, and the pillars supporting their dwelling trembled with the force of her rage until Lyesh intervened.

The girl stood by Malavai's chair and looked her mother in the eye. Without a moment's hesitation, she handed a burner messaging device to him. "This was delivered to our door with explicit instructions for the Wrath's eyes alone." Lyesh lifted an eyebrow at her daughter's chosen form of rebelliousness, opting to deliver it into Quinn's hands instead of hers directly. Without waiting to be dismissed, Ygrin spun on her heel and marched from the room, the tassels on her tunic flailing wildly with the force of her steps.

Quinn stood to follow, intending to demand that Ygrin return and show her mother due respect, but Lyesh held up a hand. "Leave her. I'll deal with her insolence this evening."

"You're sure?" Quinn asked, his gaze still set on the door.

"She will come to regret her actions," Lyesh assured him. "Ygrin is a girl who fancies herself a warrior. There will come a time soon when she realizes what a sheltered life she's lived, and youth will give way to the wish that she'd headed our warnings."

Quinn sank slowly back into his chair, device still in hand. "As you say, my lord."

"Well, what it is?" Lyesh nodded towards the message, and Quinn forced himself to focus on one task at a time.

Curiosity made Quinn slide his thumb over the sensor, and it was little surprise that it activated at his touch. "It is a summons," Malavai answered at last. The missive had been lightly encoded with a cypher the Empire hadn't used in years. "Empress Acina wishes to meet with us."

Lyesh held out a hand, and Quinn relinquished the device. She read over it quickly before crushing it in her palms. It was a reminder of the strength his wife possessed, should he ever be fool enough to forget again. With a feral smile, Lyesh gazed out the window towards Acina's chosen seat of power. "Then, we shouldn't keep her waiting."

Odessen
War Council

"I don't like it." Aric sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "After that cock up on Dromund Kaas, do we really trust these people?" He looked around the table at the gathered war council. Nahir sat across from him, staring intently at the maps scattered before her. The room was cramped, and the table small enough for Aric to nudge his lifemate's leg with his foot. She glanced up, then at the powerhouse the Alliance had gathered.

Lana remained silent for the most part, and Theron ran his hands through his hair. "Acina wasn't at fault on that one."

The Sith Empress had called the Outlander, a Jedi named Vranu, to Dromund Kaas to discuss a treaty. While there, Vranu and Acina had vanished into the wilds after their shuttle had been shot down, and it took nearly ten hours to locate them again.

"Theron has a point," Master Vranu replied in a smooth, baritone voice. "The former chancellor, Saresh, orchestrated that little coup, not the Empire." He was a brown skinned Zabrak with an impressive crown of horns, intricate tribal tattoos, and bright, yellow eyes. He took his position as the commander of the Alliance seriously, and Aric respected the man's opinion.

Vranu had accepted Havoc Squad's aid after they went AWOL from the Republic, then allowed Aric to bring his family to Odessen. He'd also counseled Jorgan while he recovered from the death of his squad. There had never been any judgment, only firm action. They'd cleaned weapons together in silence until Aric was ready to talk, then Vranu listened, remaining silent until Jorgan had no more words left in him. Only then, did the Jedi offer advice, and it was to remind him of why they fought, and what his men had sacrificed their lives for.

"So far, the Empire has been the only major galactic power to voluntarily ally with us," Lana added. Aric still wasn't sure how he felt about the woman. She wasn't like any of the Sith he'd put down, but she was no saint either. When he mentioned as much, Nahir pointed out that none of them had survived this long blameless. His children had, and that's why Aric was here. Those three kii needed a safer galaxy to grow in, and he'd do his damnedest to provide it for them.

Senya leaned forward to hold up her datapad. "This information claims that Acina's emissary used to be the Emperor's Wrath. Was that a title that Valkorion gave her?"

"It was," Lana admitted. "The former owner is an associate of Master Vranu, he aided in a few missions, and Darth Lyesh was given the position after Lord Scourge's defection." Aric had always considered the Jedi to be an open and honest man. However, there was no mistaking the way Vranu tensed when Lana brought up his past. His time under the Emperor's control was something the Jedi refused to speak of.

Senya nodded, then looked up from her screen to Theron. "It states that she was an executioner." Her attention shifted to Lana next. "And that this man who travels with her tried to kill her once."

"Yeah, she was bad news. Probably still is," Theron agreed, casting a side glance at Lana, one that she completely ignored. "But, that was a long time ago. Now, she's a mother of four, and she married that man, and—Damn it, Lana. What is so funny?"

Aric, along with everyone around the table, stared at the normally subdued Sith as she covered her mouth in an uncharacteristic fit of laughter. Lana composed herself, then smoothed her tunic. "Yes, well, I can hardly think of a more suitable punishment, can you?" When the room remained quiet, Lana huffed. "All four of their children are Force-sensitive."

"Kriff," Theron swore, then broke into a grin himself. "And Quinn's file says that he isn't." Lana nodded, her smile creeping back slowly. "Oh, now I just feel sorry for the man."

Aric briefly entertained the idea of even one of his kii being Force-sensitive, then quickly shied away from the thought. Khina and Amo would destroy the gardens on Coruscant in an attempt to outdo one another. Only Sisa would be even remotely responsible with that kind of power.

"So, we are bringing four, unstable Force users to Odessen?" Nahir asked. She was the only one not entertained by the notion of Captain Quinn's plight.

"Five, if you count the Wrath herself," Theron answered, then winced when Lana smacked his arm.

Vranu pushed his chair back slowly, rising to an impressive height that belied the amount of muscle on his lean frame. "Darth Lyesh has been chosen by Empress Acina, our ally, to be her mouthpiece on Odessen. I do not believe she would send anyone who would possibly undermine a truce so carefully constructed." The room gave the Jedi their complete attention. Aric had to admit, Vranu had a presence about him that went beyond the space he took up. When he spoke, it was because the words needed to be said, not simply for the sake of hearing his own voice. If Master Vranu was confident in their pact with Acina, then Jorgan would back the Jedi up. He'd keep an eye on their newest members of course, but off the books.

"It is late, and Lyesh and her family are already on the way. There is naught else to do but accept them when they arrive, agreed?" A chorus of approval echoed around the gathered individuals. "Good, now, some of you have families of your own to get back to. I call this meeting to a close. Seconded?"

"Here," Theron chimed, hand raised quickly before anyone could bring anything else to the table. The crowd drifted away slowly, though, Aric noted that Vranu stayed behind.

When Jorgan and Nahir reached their room, he keyed the door open and reveled in the silence. It was well past 23:00, and from the sound of it, the kii were asleep. Aric lowered his voice and wrapped his arms around Nahir's waist. "I'm going to grab a beer. You want one?" While he wouldn't call himself an alcoholic, he'd had at least some form of a drink every night before bed since that disaster at the Spire. It was the only way he could sleep, and even then, it didn't keep the nightmares at bay.

Nahir nodded, her magenta eyes catching in the glow from the holoterminal in the corner of the main room. "Let me check on the kids first. I'll meet you in there." She rubbed her cheek against Aric's, and he caught the promise of something more than a nightcap in her scent.

"Don't take too long," Jorgan growled playfully, then headed to their small kitchen. The apartment they shared on base probably could have fit inside the one they'd owned on Coruscant. It consisted of a sitting room, closet of a kitchen, and technically, one bedroom. Through, with a little elbow grease and a lot of ingenuity, he and Adan had managed to cut the refresher in half, and wall off enough of his and Nahir's room to make a suitable sanctuary for the triplets. After all, he and Nahir only needed a bed and one dresser, the rest could go to the kids. It worked in a temporary sense. Aric had no intention of dealing with three teenagers in such a tight space.

Lighting had never been a problem for Aric before. His eyes adjusted easily to the dark, so he avoided using electricity whenever possible in an effort to save it for those families who couldn't get by without. Cathar night vision wasn't perfect, though, a fact Aric discovered when his shoe slid in something squishy spilled across the floor. "What the—"

Aric flipped on the light and stood motionless at the sight before him. A white powdery substance coated the counters, the sink was piled high with food caked dishes, and . . . how had he not noticed that stench before?

Aric was still staring at the state of their once tidy kitchen when Nahir choked out a squeak behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, then motioned wordlessly to their surroundings. Nahir shrugged. "Well, Khina did say she had dinner covered."

"Oh, it's covered alright," Aric snarled. "Everything is covered."

Nahir squeezed past, stepping lightly over the goo he'd stomped through, and opened the refrigerator door. She pulled out a couple of beers and tossed one to Aric. "We could leave it for the kii to clean in the morning." Nahir waved her bottle at him, her voice hopeful.

Aric leveled her with a stern glare. "You know I'll be thinking about this all night."

Nahir popped the top on her drink and tipped the bottle back. When she had half of its contents down her throat, Nahir found one of the few clean placed to set the glass. "I'll grab the towels," she sighed. "But they owe me big time."

Aric grabbed her hip as she moved passed and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I will too."

Nahir flashed a mischievous grin, then vanished to get the cleaning supplies while Aric started on the dishes. The pile shifted, splashing him with the briny water he hadn't noticed beneath. He took a deep breath to steady his temper before growling, "I'll make sure they pay up, too."