Nine
Imperial Base, Telos
13 ATC
A'tro made her way back towards the landing pad, trying not to walk too quickly lest she betray that she was very much trying to run away. She had miscalculated yet again, deluded herself into thinking that by coming face to face with Quinn once more she could experience some sort of closure.
She was wrong. She had never been more wrong. She had been lying to herself the whole time. She didn't want closure, didn't want to remove him from her life. It had been less than two months since she'd sent him away, but it had felt like a lifetime. Seeing him again had sent her every sense into overdrive and lit her nerves with a fire that was slowly searing into her brain an understanding that she was struggling with all her will to deny.
She would have to kill him. That was not the understanding, but it was the only solution. Quinn had to die. All her treacherous feelings would die with him.
It wasn't unusual. Sith did that sort of thing all the time.
She just wasn't certain that she had the strength.
She rounded a corner, feeling her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, and nearly collided with a slim woman carrying an armful of datapads. The woman gasped in surprise, dropping a number of the datapads onto the floor.
A'tro ground to a halt as the woman scrambled to scoop the datapads back up into her arms. She was in uniform, but hers was all black instead of gray, and she had no visible insignia.
"I'm so sorry, my lord!" the woman said breathlessly. She tried to salute, appeared to realize that carrying her cargo made that impossible, and bowed instead. "I should have been paying more attention to where I was going. I apologize."
A'tro looked her over. She was quite thin, thinner than looked healthy for an adult human female, and her fair skin had a pallid quality that suggested she rarely saw sunlight. She had neat, chin-length black hair, and wide eyes that were the same shade of dark blue as the ones belonging to the man from whom A'tro was trying so hard to escape.
"You are forgiven," A'tro murmured, the words coming out on autopilot.
The woman straightened from her bow into rigid attention. "Watcher Twenty, Imperial Intelli—I mean, Sith Intelligence."
A'tro raised a brow-ridge, the new information intriguing her enough to push thoughts of Quinn off to the side. "I didn't realize Intelligence was organized enough to send people to the front lines again. What's your job here?"
"Tactical assessment and data analysis, my lord," Watcher Twenty said. She blinked for the first time since the conversation had started. "Sweet stars, you're the Emperor's Wrath."
A'tro started to feel ever so slightly amused. "I am."
"I once again extend my most heartfelt apologies for getting in your way, my lord," Watcher Twenty said, black brows knitting together in a nervous frown.
"Relax," A'tro told her. "You seemed to be in a hurry. Is something going on?"
"I was on my way to deliver a report to Moff Drayle. Reconnaissance has reported in from scouting the Republic's nearest defensive line and I felt it best to share the relevant information with him immediately."
"Then you should be on your way." A'tro thought for a moment. "In fact, I will accompany you. I think I'd like to hear this report myself."
"Of course. My lord." Watcher Twenty adjusted her hold on the datapads and started off at a brisk pace.
A'tro fell into step beside her. As much as she wanted to go back to her ship and mull over the Quinn situation, she had a duty to the Imperial war effort. That merited her full attention.
She briefly considering stopping by the office and retrieving Janeth and Zariel, then decided against it. They would probably find her easily enough, and she was tired of being constantly shadowed.
Watcher Twenty kept sneaking quick glances over at A'tro, as if keeping an eye on some sort of poisonous insect lurking just out of swatting range. She did it so often that A'tro half expected her to miss something directly in front of her, trip on it, and drop the datapads all over again. But they made it to the command center without incident. A'tro took a deep breath, steeling herself, for Quinn would surely be there, then slipped through the door after the Watcher.
Indeed, there was Quinn, conferring with Drayle, Merrik, and a woman with cybernetic optics and a colonel's insignia. Watcher Twenty skittered up to them, while A'tro followed more sedately behind.
"Sir, I have bad news," Watcher Twenty said without preamble. She deposited her pile of datapads atop the nearest console with a clatter. "The Republic has landed troops from off-planet and they've set up a position quite near our forward outpost."
"They're bringing in offworld reinforcements already?" Drayle mused. "They must be worried."
Watcher Twenty picked up one of the datapads and fidgeted with it. "They have two Jedi with them."
"And we have the Emperor's Wrath," Drayle countered. He nodded to A'tro as she approached. "My lord. Glad you could join us."
Watcher Twenty's fidgeting increased. "A scout managed to capture an image of one of the Jedi. It's not the best quality, but I believe that this particular individual is, well…" She lowered her voice. "A defector."
Merrik and the colonel exchanged glances. Quinn remained impassive.
A'tro moved up to stand at Watcher Twenty's shoulder, which was level with her eyes. "Are you absolutely certain of this?"
Watcher Twenty looked at the datapad she was holding, put it down, picked up another, and brought up an image on the screen.
A'tro peered at it. It had been taken from quite far away. She could just make out a figure in brown. "Is that the Jedi there?"
Watcher Twenty zoomed in on the figure. The resulting image was blurry, but A'tro was able to discern a rough impression of a face framed by dark hair.
A face with copper skin and golden eyes.
A'tro's blood ran cold.
"As you can see, the Jedi is almost certainly a Pureblood Sith," Watcher Twenty whispered. "Which is why I felt this warranted your immediate attention, sir."
Drayle nodded. "Keep the scout who captured this image out in the field and isolated from the rest of the troops. We don't want word of this spreading."
"Morale is bad enough as it is," Merrik muttered, so quietly that A'tro's Force-enhanced hearing barely picked it up.
"Already done, sir," Watcher Twenty said. "This needs to be handled delicately. And quietly."
"Do you have any idea as to the identity of this Jedi?" Quinn asked, speaking for the first time.
Watcher Twenty shook her head. "I'm working on it, but with the image quality being what it is, cross-referencing with the Intelligence archives is bringing back more matches than I have time to sort through with all my other duties. And the HoloNet connection here is terrible. I'm going to need more time."
"Prioritize your other duties first, Watcher," Drayle ordered. "We don't have time to waste."
"Respectfully, sir, I have to disagree," Quinn said. "Knowing the identity of the traitor could prove very valuable when fighting them. They will certainly be familiar with our standard tactics."
"Your opinion is noted, Captain," Drayle said. He turned back to Watcher Twenty. "Keep this information under wraps at all costs. You're dismissed."
Watcher Twenty saluted smartly, scooped up her datapads, and departed.
Drayle shook his head. "Emperor save me from Intelligence analysts and their eccentricities."
"She had a point," A'tro said. "And so does Quinn." It was the first time she'd said his name in weeks, and she nearly stumbled over it. "This needs to be dealt with."
"Frankly, my lord, our forces are spread thin," Drayle said grimly. "Mounting a direct assault on the Republic would require diverting troops from this base or one of our outposts."
"You don't need more troops, Moff," A'tro said, folding her arms across her chest. "You have me."
"Nevertheless, I do not believe we should rush into this situation unprepared." Drayle's tone switched from commanding to cajoling partway through the sentence as he appeared to remember to whom he was speaking. "My lord, I advise waiting for further information from our scouts. We have limited resources, and I do not wish to act in a manner that might waste any of them."
"I understand," A'tro said. She unfolded her arms. "It does intrigue me, however, that the situation presented to me on Dromund Kaas of an impending Imperial victory here on Telos appears to have been a falsification."
Drayle paled slightly. "My lord, I assure you, it was never my intention to mislead you. I don't know what Major Merrik told you—"
"I conveyed the message you instructed me to convey, sir," Merrik interjected silkily.
"We are having some difficulty making progress, that is true," Drayle said stiffly. "But I assure you, with you here, our victory is certain."
A'tro frowned. "I did not come to this wretched planet to counterbalance your own failings."
"Of—of course not, my lord," Drayle stammered. "I, uh—"
"The conquest of Telos will proceed," A'tro said coolly. "Whether or not you will need to be replaced when it is finished remains to be seen. I suggest you think that over." She turned and swept out of the room.
Quinn watched the Wrath go, her cape swirling behind her as she walked.
The four officers stood silently for several long moments. Then Drayle muttered something about inspecting the troops and left, somewhat shakily.
"That went well," Merrik drawled when he was gone.
Colonel Lyn ran a finger over the metal bar embedded along her temple. "Drayle's not used to dealing with Sith. He needs to get his act together before the rest of us are dragged down with him."
"She isn't normally like this," Quinn found himself saying.
Both women turned to look at him.
"I keep forgetting you used to serve with the Wrath," Lyn said. "What's your take on this?"
"She seems…distracted," Quinn said slowly, already regretting his failure to keep silent. "She's not one to threaten for no reason. There must be something else on her mind."
He had a feeling he knew what that something else was, too.
"Probably the whole 'rogue Sith' thing," Merrik said. "I imagine that must be odd to deal with."
"This could work to our advantage, though," Lyn said thoughtfully. "The Jedi gives us an excuse. Quinn, if you could talk to the Wrath, get her to convince Drayle to stop stalling and attack, we might accomplish something."
"I'm not certain I can do that, sir," Quinn said. The nervous anticipation he had felt earlier returned. "The Wrath may not be entirely open to my advice."
Merrik snorted. "Let me guess: she doesn't like you and that's why she stuck you here."
"The reason for my reassignment is not your concern, Major," Quinn said coldly.
Merrik raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I care for your tone, Captain."
"Enough," Lyn said firmly. "I won't have the two best officers in this whole contingent at each other's throats. Leave your Academy rivalry there in the past, where it belongs."
"Yes, sir," Merrik sighed.
"I apologize, sir," Quinn said.
Lyn shook her head. "We have to make the best of this situation. Quinn, if you can't talk to the Wrath, then I will."
"I could do it," Merrik said eagerly. "I already convinced her to come here, didn't I?"
"No," Lyn said flatly. "If you offend her with your unprofessionalism, that's two bridges burned. I won't have it."
Merrik looked slightly crestfallen. "Whatever you say, sir."
Lyn turned to Quinn. "I want you to go check in with Watcher Twenty and see if she has any other information. Anything at all that might help."
Quinn stood at attention. "Yes, sir."
"Merrik, check in with Faraday about the walkers."
"I'll get right on it."
"I'm going to find Drayle and try to advise him about handling Sith. Dismissed, both of you." Lyn strode off purposefully.
Merrik looked at Quinn. "In all seriousness, though. Is this going to be a problem? As in, will the Wrath not want to work with us because of you?"
"If it were going to be a problem, I doubt she would have agreed to your request," Quinn said. "As it is, I suspect she is displeased with Drayle's reluctance to take action."
"Aren't we all?" Merrik sighed. "I should be going." She walked away shaking her head, leaving Quinn standing alone.
He had answered Merrik's inquiry confidently, but he couldn't help but be concerned. A'tro was clearly distracted by something. It could be the traitorous Jedi.
It could also be him.
If his presence interfered with her concentration in battle, if she were hurt or killed because of it… No, that was a foolish and paranoid notion. A'tro had never been one to let her emotions interfere with her judgment; he knew that perfectly well. She would do her duty, and he would do his. It was the way it had to be.
A'tro found herself once again walking through the Imperial base deep in thought, but this time, she wasn't thinking about Quinn. She was thinking about someone else. Someone she hadn't thought about in a very long time.
The Jedi, who was clearly of Sith blood. The Jedi with copper skin and golden eyes, who even in the blurry image had looked a great deal like her.
This would not do. This was more important than Quinn right now. Before she could even begin to find some sort of resolution to her personal conflict, this Jedi had to be destroyed. She would have to act alone, and she would have to act quickly, before further scouting missions produced clearer images.
It was a problem that she really should have expected to need to deal with sooner rather than later, but she had not expected that K'saria would survive long enough for it to be an issue. A'tro would not underestimate her again. Perhaps the Force had brought her to Telos to resolve more than just her issues with Quinn.
She could feel it in her heart, in her bones: after eight long years, she was finally going to have the chance to kill her sister.
