By evening, Jaesa had made her way back to the ship, and Vette had managed to get in touch with Broonmark, who was to rendezvous with them when they arrived at Corellia. Jaesa disappeared to her quarters to sleep off the effects of her long night out - Torilya didn't care to think too much about what that might have entailed - so after a quiet dinner with Vette and Pierce, Torilya made certain the ship's course was appropriately plotted and retired to her quarters. She put on a pair of stretchy pants and a soft, sleeveless top, then spent some time in meditation, something she hadn't been successful in doing since the transponder station. When she finished, she moved to the private holoterminal next to her bed. Taking a few more deep breaths, she steeled herself and placed a call.


Quinn had spent nearly a week traveling, and it showed. His normally impeccable uniform had been traded for a long, beaten-up leatheris duster and a crumpled fedora, and his trademark 5 o'clock shadow had morphed into the beginnings of a full-fledged beard. Fatigue and heavy spirits caused his normally ramrod-straight posture to falter. To the casual observer, he looked far more like a freighter captain of questionable repute than an Imperial officer. He'd taken a transport to Tatooine and spent a couple of days holed up in a cantina there, then once he'd secured a small cargo ship, made a series of stops - first Balmorra, then Hoth, then finally Nar Shaddaa, where he was currently docked. He knew trying to hide himself for too long was pointless, but he hoped the chaos of Nar Shaddaa would afford him enough anonymity to get by for a while - long enough, anyway.

He stretched out atop the flimsy mattress on the so-called bed in the captain's quarters of the ship - he refused to think of it as his - and tried to rest. His medic's training told him he was running dangerously close to total exhaustion, and he knew he needed to stay sharp. Every time he closed his eyes, though, he saw Torilya's face as it loomed over him on the transponder station after she'd thrown him into the wall and choked him. He'd watched her beautiful eyes change, seen the pallor come over her face, and something inside him had broken when she refused to kill him. She had him dead to rights, and that was the only way it could possibly end - and yet his lord had surprised him to the last. Not a typical Sith, indeed, he thought, the nausea that had been his constant companion for the last week rising again.

His holo chirped, pulling him back to the moment. He rose to answer it, scrubbing his hand over his face and attempting to collect himself. The image took several seconds to fully resolve, but eventually the face of a sandy-haired woman became clear.

"Malavai, I'm here," she said, looking over her shoulder as she spoke. "Are you certain this is wise?"

"No, but it's the best we can do for the moment," he responded. "Stay alert. I'll come to you shortly."

"All right." There was a muffled uproar behind the woman, and she flinched. "Please hurry."

"I'm on my way. Remember what we discussed."

Disconnecting the call, Quinn hurriedly pulled on his boots and holster, ensuring his blaster and vibroknife were properly secured and ready, then tucked two spare knives and a couple of syringes into hidden pockets in his duster. A compact emergency medic's kit went into a pouch on the back of his belt. One more small knife went into his left boot, a personal holo unit into a pocket, and then he was making his way off the ship, his fedora pulled down tightly over his forehead. Before he made it to the airlock lift, the holo in his pocket beeped. He pulled it out and answered it, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

"Captain," Torilya greeted him brusquely. "You are advised that the Fury and her crew are en route to Corellia. Our mission objective remains unchanged. Should I require your assistance, you will be notified directly either by myself or my second-in-command, Lieutenant Pierce. Maintain radio silence unless otherwise instructed. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, m-" Quinn faltered for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Yes, sir."

"Do you have anything to report? Need-to-know only, Captain."

"No, sir." Quinn forced himself to remain collected.

"Very well. Wrath out." She disconnected the call.

Sliding the comm back into his pocket, Quinn swallowed hard against the bile rising again in his throat. Remembering the woman waiting for him on the surface, he shook his head frantically for a brief moment as if to shake something loose, then made his way out of the airlock and to the spaceport taxi.


On the Fury, Torilya sat down shakily on her bed. She took deep breaths until her heart rate slowed and her hands stilled, then stood abruptly and strode out of her quarters. Vette and Pierce were still in the lounge, evidently taking turns hustling Too-Vee at sabacc. Vette looked up from her hand on hearing Torilya enter.

"Want in? We're playing for the last of the stash of that amazing candy I got on Alderaan." Vette shook the box at her enticingly.

Torilya grinned. "Hardly. You two shouldn't be allowed anywhere near the same table."

Vette shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, turning her attention back to her cards.

Torilya watched as Vette efficiently wiped the floor with Too-Vee, then turned her sights on Pierce. "Come on, Lieutenant, let's see what you've got." Too-Vee, perhaps sensing an opportunity to escape, began rambling something about more cushioning for the seats and tottered off.

"Actually, I'd hoped to steal Pierce for a moment," Torilya broke in.

Vette raised an eyebrow, but made a "be my guest" gesture. Pierce started to rise, but Torilya stopped him. "No need to disturb your game, I just needed your assistance for a moment," she said, holding up the roll of tape she'd grabbed from the medbay. Vette gasped and flew out of her seat to Tori's side.

"What happened? Are you injured? How did you manage to-" Torilya placed a firm hand on Vette's shoulder and pushed her back into her seat, Pierce taking the roll of tape and smiling wanly at Tori as she did so.

"I'm fine, Vette. Take it down a notch," she said, giving the girl a gentle tweak to a lek. "You've been spending too much time with Too-Vee."

Vette, ever mature, flipped a rude gesture at Torilya, who rolled her eyes as she held out her hands to Pierce. He taped them securely, giving her fingers a light squeeze as he finished.

"Want some company?" he asked her, looking carefully at her face.

"If you like. I'll be in the hold. Not to worry, I left my saber in my quarters." She grinned at him, looking as sheepish as a Sith Lord possibly can.

Returning her smile, he stood. "I'll change and be right there," he told her, gesturing at his heavy boots and street clothes.

Torilya nodded at him, then turned and walked toward the cargo hold.

"Fine by me!" Vette called after them both. "Guess that means I win!" She brandished the box of treats above her head, then tossed one at Pierce's departing back.

A few moments later, Pierce found Torilya working through some punch combinations on one of the dummies to warm up. She tossed him a quick, tight grin, and he could see the tension hovering just under the surface in her eyes.

"All right?" he asked simply.

She shrugged as she continued to pummel the dummy. "Figured I'd heed your advice, is all."

"Sparring, then?"

"Yes. But only sparring, this time," she said, looking at him somewhat apologetically. She finished her combination and stood before him, arms hanging loosely at her sides.

He looked her in eyes as he responded simply, "I've got your back."

She nodded once, her lips tight. He stepped forward to drop a friendly kiss on her forehead, then sank into a crouch with a feral grin. "Bring it, then," he taunted, his fingers making a "come at me" gesture.

She gave him a grateful smile, then crouched and sprang, her eyes flashing.

Once again, they sparred to the point of exhaustion, Pierce monitoring Tori's face periodically. Her eyes were once again unfocused, but she wasn't teetering on the edge of control this time. Her movements were more precise, her energy still intense but carefully restrained. This was more like the Sith Lord he'd come to know in combat. Finally, she overpowered him, landing him on his back and pinning him with a knee to his chest, her hand at his throat. She looked down at him and her eyes seemed to snap back into focus; rising quickly, she offered him a hand and brought them both to a sitting position facing each other on the floor. They sat in silence, both too winded to speak. After a few minutes, Torilya got up and went to the galley, returning with a large canteen full of cold water. She sat back down next to Pierce, who had moved to lean against a wall, as she offered it to him. He took a long drink, then gave it back to her. She drank, then leaned her head back against the wall. Still not speaking, they passed the canteen back and forth, just listening to the sounds of the ship.

The racket in the hold had pulled Jaesa out of her stupor. She reached out with the Force and felt a muddled jumble of emotions, but sensed no real danger. Rolling over, she tried to go back to sleep. She gave up after a few minutes and hauled herself out of bed and to the galley, catching sight of Pierce and Tori leaning against the wall in the hold as she passed. Vette was flipping through holovids in the lounge, munching on candy. Jaesa got herself a cup of caff and sat next to Vette, swiping a handful of treats as she sat.

"Sure, help yourself," Vette said sarcastically.

"Don't mind if I do," Jaesa intoned calmly. She took a drag of her caff, then said casually, "So, were they fighting or screwing in there?"

Vette sat up sharply. "What the hell, Jaesa? Jealous?"

Jaesa's laugh was slightly chilling. "Nah. Got plenty of both last night, thanks. You should have come along, broadened your horizons a bit." She cut her eyes over to Vette, then trailed a finger down Vette's forearm. "You might surprise yourself," she said coyly.

Vette yanked her arm away. "God, you are creepy," she muttered.

Jaesa laughed again. "Whatever you say. I am a bit surprised that she went to him for whatever the hell they were doing. If she wanted a good fight, she should have woken me up."

Vette snorted. "She'd snap you like a twig. Pierce can at least sort of keep up with her if there's no Force use involved."

The box of candy suddenly flew out of Vette's lap and into Jaesa's hand. "Shut your mouth, child," Jaesa spat. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Standing quietly, Vette walked over to the galley and got herself a glass of water. Jaesa was absorbed in selecting a treat from the box when the mug in her other hand suddenly shattered, sending hot caff pouring onto her robes. With an indignant shriek, Jaesa shot to her feet, flinging the box aside. Vette was calmly tucking a small holdout blaster back into her waistband as she walked out of the room.

"Don't call me 'child,' you psycho bitch."

Pierce started to stand when he heard the ruckus in the lounge, but Torilya stopped him.

"Let it go. No one's hurt."

He shrugged and leaned against the wall again as Too-Vee whirred by with cleaning supplies, blathering away to himself.

"Reckon we ought to turn in, then," Pierce said. "Should be ready to dock tomorrow, yeah?"

Torilya nodded slowly, but said nothing. He looked at her for a moment, then stood up and extended his hand to help her to her feet. She took it and looked at him questioningly.

"Go get yourself ready for bed then meet me in the lounge. 'S an order," he said with a wink. She opened her mouth as if to protest, then just shook her head and went to do as she was told.

When she entered the lounge a little while later, Pierce was already in there, dressed for bed himself, with a stack of pillows and blankets ready on the sofa. He'd pulled one of the lounge chairs around to face one end of the sofa, and had a steaming mug of something in his hand. He held it out to her, chuckling at her expression.

"Just herbal tea. Thought it might help you relax a bit," he said.

She accepted the mug and took a careful sip. "Thank you. That's actually quite good," she said, not totally able to keep the surprise out of her voice.

"My mum's blend," he explained simply. "Keep a stash on hand when I can."

She nodded, sipping again. He settled himself on an end of the sofa, propping his feet on the chair and tossing one of the blankets over his lap. She met his eyes, and he thumped the seat next to him.

"C'mon, get comfy," he prodded. "Got a bunch of stupid vids queued up. Nothing but the basest of humor."

Her eyes softened a bit and she gave him a real smile, finally catching on. She sat next to him, tucking her feet under her. He started the first vid, and they watched in companionable silence save for the occasional chuckle. Once she finished her tea, he gently took the mug from her and set it on an end table. He grabbed one of the pillows he'd brought in, tucked it next to his hip, and gently but firmly pushed her down by the shoulder until she was lying down, her head not quite in his lap. He covered her with one of the blankets, then turned his attention back to the holovid, leaving his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

Somewhere in the middle of the third vid, he realized her breathing had evened out and she was at least dozing. Lowering the volume, he let his head drop back against the sofa and closed his eyes, too.


While the occupants of the Fury wound down for the evening, Quinn wound his way through one of the seedier areas of Nar Shaddaa to a small cantina. Trying not to wrinkle his nose visibly at the stench, he made his way to the bar, where the woman who had called earlier was perched on a stool, looking very much like she was trying hard not to touch more of the cantina's surfaces than she absolutely must. Quinn sidled up behind her and slid an arm around her waist, and she stiffened instantly.

"It's just me, Melia," he bent his head to murmur in her ear. "Relax."

She let out a sigh and turned to look at him. "Wow, the holo didn't do you justice. You look like utter hell."

"It's been a difficult week. Well, difficult many weeks." Quinn clenched his jaw.

Melia reached up and gently laid a hand on one side of his face. "What's the plan here? I don't like this place, and I -"

Quinn cut her off with a quick finger to her lips, gesturing to the bartender as he did so. "I am buying you a drink. In a few moments, you will succumb to my advances and we will make our way out of here."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Please tell me that isn't how you wooed your Sith Lord. No wonder she tossed you out."

Quinn turned his head quickly to slip the bartender a credit stick for the drinks that had appeared by his elbow, but not before Melia saw the flash of pain in his eyes.

"Sorry," she said softly. He didn't respond for a moment, focusing his attention on the drinks that he was surreptitiously scanning with a tiny device he concealed in his sleeve. He handed her one, then raised his glass to toast her.

"Your good health," he said, then drained his glass in one movement. She sipped at hers cautiously.

"You can't think you're being watched here already?" she asked, leaning into him.

"No. But I cannot take any chances. Nor can you. Now laugh, please."

She managed a weak laugh that she hoped passed for flirtatious. Quinn responded with a grin that he hoped didn't look forced to anyone walking by. They sat a moment more, Melia sipping at her drink, then Quinn bent to whisper in her ear once again.

"All right. Follow my lead." She nodded up at him.

He pulled her off her barstool and wound her arm through his elbow. As they walked toward the exit, he took her chin in his hand and turned her face to look at him.

"Keep your eyes open," he said.

A tense walk and taxi ride later, they were entering the airlock where the little cargo ship was docked. Quinn keyed the security code and ushered her onto the ship before him, then turned and reset the codes, locking them in.

"Welcome to your new home, albeit hopefully temporarily," he said.

"Charming," she answered dryly.

He led her to the tiny lounge, which doubled as the galley, and sat in one of the ratty chairs, gesturing at her to do the same. She studied his face for a moment.

"You know, now I think I see why Mother was so insistent that you never grow a beard. It really doesn't suit you."

When he didn't respond, she sighed heavily.

"We're here now. Are you going to talk?"

"What in particular do you want to know?" he asked. "I thought you understood why this needed to happen."

"Yeah. Angry Sith - one of whom should've killed you but didn't, the other won't hesitate to, but not until he's certain you've been sufficiently punished, though I still don't quite understand for what - vengeance, retribution, blah, blah, blah. But Malavai - what happened?"

He dropped his head into his hands.

"I am still struggling to fully grasp that myself."