Dawn of Alliances (OCs - Thexan)

by daennika

The Wrath has taken his title and defeated his master while Cipher Nine has barely recovered her own identity and seeks to rebuild her life. Their timelines cross. Neither of them are prepared for their twisted fates but as their lives change, war still rages on. Joining forces with Darth Marr, the Wrath and the Agent begin working with an unlikely ally - Thexan Tirall.

10. Wild Space

Writer's note: M-rated themes

The airlock was left open so it was no surprise when Essan heard footsteps coming from the entrance. He was in the cargo hold, sorting modification items on his workbench and was reminded with mild annoyance how he couldn't sense the person entering the Fury.

But he had invited Thexan to come aboard on his own, and he hoped the prince would be wearing the black cloak he'd had sent to his room that morning.

The steps rang closer as the man walked across the lobby and down the few steps to meet him. Essan turned from his desk and Thexan was standing at the bottom of the stairs, pulling back the hood from over his head. His black armor and tunic was stitched up and fused together with black mesh where there used to be a lightsaber cut. Essan had tried different materials when working on the Zakuulan royal garment and salvaged fabric from a Knight's armor.

Essan shook his head in disapproval. "That still looks wrong."

There was an amused veil over his face. Thexan cautiously closed in. "Thank you for having these sent over."

He stretched out his left arm, inspecting his sleeve and half-glove. It was only five days after he had been wounded and left for dead at the foot of his father's throne. Essan patiently stayed silent until Thexan would pay attention to what he was working on.

"I came to realize that you were in need of a weapon," he explained as the human took interest in the parts scattered on the workbench. "These are the spare parts I've collected over the years. You may use this room at your leisure, if you want to."

"That's... very generous, Lord Skordus."

He tried to ignore the formality of his tone and went towards his tall storage cabinet. "Right."

The items he'd collected during his ventures around the galaxy were gathering dust and piling up in the Fury's cargo hold. Each container held hundreds of thousands worth of credits in various equipment, from armor parts to weapon attachments, craft schematics, minerals and diverse materials. Pierce would call that room the crazy person's hoarder's nest. Essan simply viewed it as his all-purpose stash of things. Every member of his crew could benefit from having everything at hand's reach.

The tall cabinet contained Zakuulan laser spears, a decommissioned war droid, some cloaks and valuable armor parts. He kept the masks in sturdy cases and the body armors were piled in layers over layers. Most of them had battle damage but not so much that he'd want to trash them into space.

"You keep quite the collection," Thexan commented.

"These trophies aren't live, though."

He checked over his shoulder to see if his provocation had hit home, but Thexan only folded his arms together, his lips stretched in an unimpressed smirk. His blueish eyes looked dark and gray in the dim light, they were directed towards the equipment. Essan pulled out one set of plating that seemed to fit him. It was of a muted, dark silver color and the matching mask was in its box on a shelf above.

"Sith armor," Thexan commented.

"I'm sure you've seen them before," Essan muttered. Korriban came to mind. He refused to start ruminating each death caused by the man standing behind him. He picked up the box, and placed it on top of the armor on a nearby container. "Take the time to get accustomed to it. It's probably more comfortable to wear than your Knights' golden plating."

Thexan inspected the box, opened the lid and his brow creased at the sight of the mask. His expression made Essan want to laugh.

"It's an Acolyte," he remarked. "I- I can't wear this. People will think-"

"People will think you are my apprentice," Essan finished for him. "It's the right way to have you around without raising suspicion." He directed a thumb to where his own chin was. "And Tayleen happens to like this mask."

Utterly confused, Thexan was visibly trying not to react disapprovingly. "You sure know how to sell this."

"I have nothing to teach you, Thexan." He kept his Force sensory awareness up, and this time he let go of his control of it and allowed himself to be blind to him, only for a moment. "Only listen to me when I say that it's going to take time before you can freely walk among Imperials without anyone trying to kill you. Even for a regular old Sith, each day is a blessing when they get to go to sleep unscathed."

"Being royalty didn't make my life any easier," Thexan humbly said. "Father had Knights and assassins ready to ambush Arcann and I at random times to keep our wits up."

Essan found a climate-controlled suit and took it out of the cabinet. "I'm sure those Knights and assassins knew they wouldn't live long if they succeeded in their attempts on your life."

Pressing an arm across his midsection, Thexan took time to reply but there was no grief on his face. "True. That's probably why I didn't see the last one coming."

This time, Essan chuckled and closed his storage to turn back at him with a pair of black boots.

"This is your size."

"How do you-... Never mind." He grabbed the undersuit and the boots. "Thank you for this, once again."

"Gear up," Essan told him, heading out. "Then meet me in the cockpit for that talk."

The purple crystal floated in the air, above the galaxy map and in front of the stars visible from the hangar bay. It spun slowly on itself, shimmering subtle hues under the lights of the cockpit. Essan pulled the focus crystal to his hand and brought his feet down from the console when he heard steps beyond the door way.

He looked like one of the rivals on Dromund Kaas who had tried to provoke him in a gratuitous duel. He swore for just a second that the masked man in his sight would begin to snicker and point at him accusingly, calling him a coward for walking away from a challenge.

The mask came off as Thexan reached up and threw the hood in his back. He didn't seem pleased and started fussing about the pointy ends of his knuckle guards getting caught in his cloak.

"Good," Essan told him, idly turning the crystal between his fingers. "Now I feel like we can agree on something."

"Like the lack of fresh air in this thing, or the terrible vision?"

"Have you at least connected the power line to your collar?" Essan retorted, tempted to throw the crystal at his face.

"I did, but it looks like the batteries are dead." He checked the electronics inside the mask and looked back at him, cocking an eyebrow. "What kind of crystal is that?"

Leaning back again, Essan resumed his position of lounging his feet over the console, pocketing the crystal in his belt. "It's a power crystal. I used it briefly when acquiring new weapons on Alderaan." He was now saving it for Zherrys, when she would be older but he didn't care to share that information with him. "You won't need it."

"I'm still wondering why you would trust me with a lightsaber this soon," said the Zakuulan, walking towards the copilot's chair.

"I will know when to trust you once you're confident and able to actually betray us," Essan replied, watching him navigate his codpiece and thigh plates as he tried to sit down. "Don't mess around with- okay, stop. No."

Thexan was blushing and cussing between his teeth. Grinning behind his mask, Essan leaned forward to pull on one of the fasteners behind Thexan's knee. The plates were attached too high and collided, jabbing his groin when sitting. After the fix, Thexan could rotate the plating on his legs and sit properly.

"Thanks..."

"So as I was saying," sighed Essan leaning back into his seat, "I wouldn't be giving you all of this if I knew you were unstable."

His blue eyes looked dark as the sea floor on Manaan as they searched the stars outside the viewport before setting on him. "I still need to make amends for everything I've done. So far, I wasn't made to pay or suffer for the invasions. Where is the justice in that?"

Essan studied him with care, drawing on his patience and letting him know how irritated he was that Thexan concealed himself from the Force. There was a purpose to that, to preserve them all from the vindication of Valkorion. And the cost was constant suspicion from his new allies.

"No one can bring back the lives you took and made to destroy countless others. The body count is still running, the galaxy has only begun showing symptoms of the cancer that is your empire." He breathed and couldn't refrain from making a grimace of scorn. "You speak of justice when all you've done so far is displaying the power of one at the cost of the many. Would you rather we have you executed or tortured for eternity? How do you fancy losing one piece of flesh for every day the Eternal Empire is attacking a new system?"

Thexan, defiantly yet accepting, held his gaze before lowering his head.

"A piece of me died on Korriban," he coarsely told. "I lost my brother. And he lost me in return." His mouth twitched nervously. "I have lost everything I believed, everything I cared about. Had it not been for Tayleen I wouldn't be alive and here to speak about it."

"You know how none of that absolves you from your past," Essan growled, assuming a more dominant posture in his chair. He wanted to stand and choke him, but he physically felt pity for Thexan. "She didn't bring you here to mope about your pathetic existence. She wanted revenge. She wanted survival."

He couldn't shake the memories of seeing her holographic image hiding under a refresher sink, speaking in hushed tones to him and Marr. He couldn't for the life of him forget the sleepless nights in his quarters, crying himself numb and wishing to crush every Zakuulan being to puddles of blood until he could see her again.

And Thexan's reaction was nothing but blank, and this time he could sense the rage. He could sense the anger and the pain. Essan had made it personal by mentioning her.

"My father has to pay for what he's done," he fervently said. "But his power is immense, it would take months if not years of preparation to end his reign."

"We know that, Darth Marr knows that. We couldn't riposte without losing everything we have left. Those are the stakes right now... So I am asking you: are you willing to sacrifice everything?"

He could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

"Only my life," he said. "No one else's."

Essan held his gaze on him, wishing he could stop the tremor in his teeth. Wishing he could use him in some theatrical way to get Valkorion and his other son to yield and surrender. But Thexan was dead to them. Waving away the galaxy map, he brought up his confidential computer access login screen and typed in his password. Thexan watched intently when a video file was brought up from a secured transmission. Sith Intelligence had intercepted the broadcast no later than that morning.

The holo-image showed Zakuul, a grand plaza in a very public setting. Tall buildings dwarfed the pedestrian sky-walks. Hundreds, thousands of people gathered around a ceremony with Valkorion, Arcann, and an unknown woman in dark robes presiding. They bowed their heads at a rectangle container circled with crowns of flowers and medals. There was no audio but anyone could guess this was a funeral. The memorial plating read an inscription saying Prince Thexan, son of Emperor Valkorion, had perished during battle in the Core Worlds.

Leaning upon his knees, the very alive and breathing Thexan had his eyes brimming with tears as he saw the video and his mouth twisted into a frown. The image stopped and froze before fading. He was hating it, Essan guessed. All of it, the pompous ceremony, the blatant lie on the stone head, the sight of his mourning father and siblings. Because Tayleen had told him about that sister called Vaylin. He hoped there wouldn't be any more of Valkorion's offspring to watch out for.

"Your life is meaningless unless you do something of it," Essan softly explained. "I will not accept your sacrifice."

They couldn't afford any more losses. He had tried to get that idea into Marr's head about the retaliation plan, about not pursuing Zakuul so promptly and to let things stew while they regrouped and gathered strength. They needed more support from across systems. But the more they waited the more Valkorion advanced and gained momentum in his conquest of the galaxy. They needed a new approach and he was convinced that Thexan was the key.

The man rubbed his gloved palms over his face and took a deep, mournful breath. Watching one's own funeral was a rare occurrence, and unless you paid for that sort of psycho-analytic simulation, there was nothing quite like the real thing. Essan gave him a moment.

"They want the people of Zakuul to believe I'm gone," he whispered to himself. "They're lying. They... killed me off."

"What difference does it make?" Essan interrupted his emotional complaint. "It means you have complete deniability. Whatever you do now, no one can claim it was Thexan, the once-believed-dead son of Valkorion. This is a gift."

"They would still hunt me down, because my body is missing from the Spire, along with the three Knights and Tayleen..." he looked up with a clear sense of panic. "They know everything about her. About you. We must relocate."

"If they did want her dead it would have happened long ago, don't you think?" Essan felt his heart ache and he swallowed his gut-wrenching fear. "I am always going to worry about her, fear for her and lose my mind over it. That's my responsibility. But I believe it's also her choice to live the way she wishes, and I respect whatever she chooses. Whoever she chooses to protect her."

"Wh-" he stuttered, hesitant to look at him, "what are you saying?"

Leaning forward, Essan extended his arm, grateful for his protective mask and voice filters to straighten his hoarse tone. Grateful that Thexan couldn't see the tears on his face. Thexan held out his palm and the purple crystal fell into it. With surprise, Thexan clutched it closer to him before raising a doubtful look.

"You will give this to Zherrys when she's old enough." Essan stood up, unable to stay sitting. His neck ached and he needed to get his mask off. "This is your purpose, Thexan. You will protect my family while I lead the assault with Darth Marr."

"I can't possibly accept this..."

"You can and you will." He cringed with anger, looking down at this poor excuse for a man, insecure because of his failures, broken and submitted to the idea of an unforgiving parent. "Get up," he groaned, "before I change my mind and break your neck."

Thexan's bewildered expression changed to apathy, then acceptance as he followed him. "Why not trade places? I should be there to face my father, to attempt negotiations?"

"Marr would never trust you, and I know that would never work," he throatily answered, going into his cabin.

Thexan stayed at the door while Essan went into the refreshers, letting the door shut behind him while he pulled off his mask and gloves to clean up his face. The need for crying would have to wait another time. He heard Thexan's voice through the bulkheads and over the noise of running water.

"You know this operation is going to fail, don't you? Why even go through with it?"

Essan rinsed and toweled himself until dry enough to put his mask on again. He went into his cabin and let out a drawn out breath.

"Because the only other option would be to make a grand show of how you aren't dead. How we captured you, humiliating Zakuul, your brother and your father. How we're about to extract every single ounce of knowledge from your brain using invasive methods. That would be such a display of victory, and undeniably there would be repercussions. We don't know what else is next on your father's mind. He could be planning it already and it needs to be stopped. Somehow." He paused to steady his trembling right hand, closing it into a fist. "But not at the risk of losing everything."

Stern, jaw tight and shoulders braced, Thexan furrowed his brow. "We still have time to plan. I can work with Sith Intelligence but throwing yourself recklessly at my father - at Arcann - would amount to nothing."

Essan bit his lip, slightly amused at his combative attitude. "This isn't about me."

His expression changed again. Oh, how easy it was to read him after all. Essan walked passed him because he wouldn't budge from the door, and headed for the airlock.

"I suggest you get working on that lightsaber."

The Phantom was in the next hangar, an easy few paces brought him aboard and he smiled, hearing voices speaking softly and a joyful mood filled him. None seemed to take notice when he came in the lobby, but he recognized Vette's giggle and saw Pierce trying to look over the shoulder of Lokin while Vector was holding Ceyrin in his arms. Tayleen was sitting in the middle of the semi-circle sofa, fixing the blanket around Zherrys as Kaliyo was smiling with her dark lips, looking amazed while she held the baby girl. They were quietly chatting about which planet was best for them to be raised on, which toys each of them would get as their first birthday present, and what type of education they were going to need.

Tayleen crossed eyes with him, and her beaming smile faded gradually. Essan couldn't retain his emotion as he held his breath. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... And she calmly stood up to join him. Everyone took turns looking back at him and she held his gloved hand, softly drawing him away from the attention.

She was wearing a black and gray outfit of trousers and a sleeveless shirt. Somehow other colors never seemed to suit her. It was always dull and uncomplicated.

"How did it go with Thexan?" she murmured in the hallway between her quarters and the cockpit. The crew were still chatting amongst themselves.

"He does terribly with heavy armor," Essan told her with a patronizing tone. "But otherwise, he is on board."

She pouted her lips and tilted her head sideways, longing eyes looking straight through him.

What have I done?

"Come," she said, taking his hand in hers to move back to the lounge area. "I want you to be a part of this."

Standing in place, he hadn't the heart to be among lively, cheerful people even if they were the most familiar persons he'd ever known. Even if that meant spending one last happy evening with his family. But Tayleen gave him a judging look, that one look he had first experienced when they were on Belsavis. He was no better than anyone just because his work had more impact on the galaxy.

She held his hand all the way to the couch where Vector left his seat for him. Pierce was now ogling at Ceyrin over his crib, making strange faces and trying to get the baby to laugh or smile. They shared jokes about vomit and stool, and Tayleen made Essan tell about the birth, since he was the only one awake to witness it.

"You don't have to tell all the details," Vette said, shaking a colorful lighted toy over Zherrys's crib.

"Fine," Essan began, "Ceyrin was first to come out, and I wasn't expecting it because well... You don't get color on sonograms, even the holographic ones. It was really strange seeing such tiny hands moving and crawling out of this." He pointed at Tayleen's now almost flat belly and she playfully punched his knee. Everyone laughed for no specific reason.

"Are you having a go at me right now?" she snapped.

"Well, you were under a large sheet of green paper," he defensively replied. "I was in shock, and it was easy to let my mind run. Anyway..." Another bout of laughter and Tayleen shameful hid behind her hands. "I blacked out when the medic cut off the umbilical cord."

"Too much gore for you there, eh?" Pierce jabbed at him.

"A lifetime of battles across the known galaxy will do that to you."

"Well, now I guess I'm never getting pregnant," Vette commented, shaking her blue lekku.

Tayleen comically frowned with regret. "I don't recommend it. Ask Doctor Lokin to make a clone for you."

Her humor was a direct hit and Lokin almost blushed. "I might specialize to a new field then, Agent. Twi'lek genetically hybrid breeding."

"Sure," sarcastically approved Kaliyo. "And I suppose you'll want a bigger lab? I'm not becoming your assistant."

"Come on, love," Pierce said, drawling each word. "We could have you aboard the Fury. Plenty of room there since we kicked out the crazy chick."

It felt like a ten-ton freight container fell upon the lounge and Essan eyed him from his seat.

"It's unfortunate, but if Jaesa were here she would probably enjoy this little reunion."

"Or she would try to strangle us all simultaneously," Quinn contributed very seriously. "I, for one, am glad she wasn't invited."

"Shh!" Vette dramatically interrupted. She whispered, loudly. "Don't speak of Jaesa so often or you might summon her!"

They all laughed and even Essan let out a chuckle. Ceyrin woke up suddenly and began whimpering. Vette came over him before Tayleen had to stand, using the glowing mechanical toy to distract him and spoke to him in soft, high-pitched tones.

"Speaking of unwanted guests," Lokin asked, turning towards Tayleen, "when do we have the honor to meet your special rescue from Zakuul?"

Apprehensive but calm, Essan leaned backwards and rested an arm over the headrest behind Tayleen. She hesitantly eyed him before giving her answer.

"Thexan is still adapting to his new environment, but I'm sure you'll get to know him soon enough."

"The fleet will move to a different location in Wild Space," Essan told after her, "hoping to track down Valkorion's next move. We'll leave Thexan out of this operation for security measures. The best place for him is here, among us where he has no choice but to be part of the crew."

"It's a family," corrected Vette, looking up from the crib. "And I agree. If he's as decent as Tayleen says, I don't see why not."

"What about you, my Lord?" Quinn asked, arms folded with concern on his pale face.

Essan drew air in his lungs. "I will be Darth Marr's second in command. Those among my crew who wish to volunteer will assist the Terminus and protect the fleet as much as they can. But someone needs to show Valkorion that we mean business."

Tayleen's look was of sadness and she silently implored Essan. He wished from the darkest depths of his soul that she would be alright and not suffer the pain of separation for too long. He let his arm drop to her bare shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly. She leaned into him and a few smiles grew upon the crew's faces. Others looked down at their own boots.

Kaliyo cleared her throat, arms crossed. "I suggest we hide on Hutta. Or Quesh. With those smells no one would dare to stay more than two minutes looking for us."

"I would rather go to Alderaan," Vector said, serene. "But that's my personal preference."

"No, thanks," Pierce chuckled. "We don't want the kids to grow up to become rich, spoiled brats."

"What about Manaan?" Tayleen said. "It's secluded, peaceful and neutral. And Sith Intelligence already has headquarters there."

There was a moment of puzzled hesitation before Vette shrugged, "I wouldn't mind. But it'd get kind of old after a few days."

"Kind of?" Kaliyo retorted. "I would get bored out of my own ass."

"Maybe I could come over to entertain it," Pierce grinned.

The merc rolled her eyes at him. "Well, that's my queue. It was a nice little get together, Tayleen. G'night everyone. I hope I don't see some of you any time soon."

They began parting ways and Vette was last to leave, talking to Tayleen about the supplies she needed to take care of the babies. The two women seemed to get along quite well, to Essan's relief, and they began planning her move onto the Phantom as soon as possible.

Taking the children's cribs into her quarters, Essan joined Tayleen as she got ready for bed. It was late, and the twins were fast asleep.

"We're leaving in three days, if all goes to plan."

She eyed him cautiously and shushed him. "They're very tired," she whispered. "If they get no sleep they'll be cranky tomorrow."

It sounded like something he'd experience as an adult. He smiled but hesitated to reply when his mask was augmenting the volume on his voice. Accessing his electronic settings, he deactivated the vocal amplifier and his natural voice now sounded slightly muffled.

"I'd stay over but I have more work waiting."

"That's fine," she softly murmured, looking over the bed and finally sighing. "I'm actually tired myself. But... if you get lonely and want to talk, call me?"

He tilted his head sideways and nodded, pleased at the idea. "I just might."

The nagging sensation in his head and chest made him focus on her lips, her perfect, sleepy eyes and the sound of her breath when she stepped just close enough to reach for his mask. She left her hand where his cheek was supposed to be, and diving his stare into hers he waited, however she did not remove any item of clothing, no piece of armor. Her mind was troubled, her Force presence reflected that with dissonant vibrations that could hypnotize him if he wasn't mindful.

"What are you trying to say?" he quietly asked.

"I wish time would stop. Can you do that with the Force?" she waited for his response but he had none. "Can you tell me if you'll ever come back?"

Unable to fight the twitch of a sob, he shook his head and reached for her, closing his arms around her back. She grasped at him and circled his waist. He wanted to take his mask off and kiss her for as long as he could hold his breath, but as soon as he began pulling it away she grabbed his wrist.

"Keep it." Her eyes were wet but stared strong up at him. A shiver shook his spine when she whispered again. "You don't have to say anything."

She directed the palm of his right hand down along the curve of her hips.

"Tayleen..."

She hushed him softly, she slid beneath the waist line of her trousers and led his gloved hand over her belly, brushing past the slight jut of her scar and the heat was undeniable. He breathed harder as he tried not to press against the C-section, but she was now panting and encouraging his fingers to work between her thighs. Despite the thickness of the gloved tips, he could make sense of the different folds and dips, exploring blindly as his index slowly slid around her sensitive areas. Tayleen was grasping at his left arm, pressing herself even closer and parting her legs as she stood on her toes. Essan's mind ran wild, and his heart raced not knowing where this was going, inebriated with the sound of her pleased sighs.

The angle at which he had his arm down her tight trousers made his wrist ache. She whimpered as he pulled his hand out, black gloved fingers shining with wetness, and he had her sit on the bed while he pulled on her boots to begin undressing her. She unfastened the buttons on the side of her leggings, yearning for him to resume his care, and he slid them down her legs. He pulled them off almost too hurriedly as he stopped his gaze upon her navel and the wide, swollen incision that curved along her abdomen. He had seen it when she had her bandages changed before, but in this context it almost froze him. Tracing a thin, feminine finger over it, tantalizingly biting her lower lip, she then pushed the edge of her gray underpants that were darkened at the base.

Unable to resist the invitation, Essan sat on the bedside chair and slid his hand back inside her garment, letting a groan escape him when she closed her eyes and parted her lips. Heat rose in his armor as his body reacted to the sight of her. Easing herself on her side, she brought one knee up while she laid her head over her elbow, staring at him and smiling intermittently as her body gently rocked. He did nothing to try and push inside of her, aware that she was still healing, that any kind of penetration would risk an infection and slow her recovery. He desperately wanted to make her feel this good for as long as possible, to make her forget all of her troubles. She deserved so much better than him. She needed to enjoy her life... with someone at her side.

The one person she admittedly, undeniably loved.

The mere thought of letting another replace him as Tayleen's romantic caretaker made his mind burst with unexpected ardor, hastening the strokes of his hand against her and she moaned aloud, touching his wrist as if to steady his pace - but he kept going. Eyes shut tight, her knees closed together to trap his hand and he felt the spasms of pleasure that made her body twist and arch intensely. She held her belly where the scar was and he worried about that, but only for a second. He kept caressing her, panting in turn and responding to each jolt of her hips. Amazed at the way she'd let herself go to passion, even while their children were sleeping nearby, he brought his hands up to remove his mask, instantly filled with the smell of her sex on his glove before he bent over to kiss her. He no longer cared if she could taste the salt of tears on his lips, nor did it matter if she could hear the sobs compressed in his throat. All he knew was that they were together in this moment, even though soon enough he would leave her.

And she would be okay. He had to be at peace with it.

Tayleen caught his lower lip between her teeth, holding his face to hers and hungrily kissing him until her breathing slowed and she looked deeply into his eyes. Essan lowered his gaze, unable to stare at her knowing that it was the idea of him that she loved, and pushed against the pillows to straighten and recover his calm. Tayleen sat up, dazed and still effected, to look down on herself before pulling off her undergarment now stained and useless.

It was too much. He turned away as she dropped her wet panties on the floor and brought herself under the sheets, and he was making his way to the refreshers. He badly needed to void his bladder and clean up.

When he returned she was holding up a datapad over her head, her face illuminated by the blue light of her screen. He smirked and went to pick up his mask on the chair. Tayleen smiled back and rested the datapad against her breasts. She slowly blinked and bit her lips.

"Good night."

Once again wearing his mask, he pulled the black hood over his head and lightly touched her extended hand.

"Good night," he replied and the rest was kept to himself, but he thought it no less.

...my love.

The Terminus was stationary in Wild Space, hanging in the void between the farthest stars scattered across the vast distances of the edge of the galaxy. A blue nebula filled the entire viewport, contrasting with the dark and red interior of the flagship.

Essan climbed the stairs up to the bridge, joining Darth Marr as he was brooding with his hands clasped in his back. He hadn't slept much of the night, coordinating units with the Councilor and strategizing their assets. His mind was still muddled with the remnant thoughts of Tayleen, his children, and the preparation of Thexan for the events to come. He didn't want anything to go by the wayside just because he'd neglected to talk to someone out of fear of making a mistake, or from the assumption that they'd know what to do.

But he had full confidence in his crew and he already knew Pierce and Quinn had the Fury under control while he stayed with Marr to prepare for battle.

This was going to be the most reckless, if not the most suicidal attempt at survival he had ever lived.

"You've summoned me, Lord Marr," Essan eventually said, losing patience.

The Dark Councilor stood motionless in front of the viewport and bitterness filled the deck as he began to speak.

"For decades I have been fighting and slowly rebuilding the strength of this Empire to return it to a semblance of dignity. And now I am reduced to hiding the remnants of a broken fleet, cornered and so thinly stretched that no hope could give us the motive to carry on." He turned towards him and his armored shoulders dropped. "Such is the dire state of my accomplishments. But they shouldn't mean to be the end for all of us."

Essan worked his jaw trying not to let himself be overcome with grimness and stepped a little closer to lower his voice at Marr. "What are you trying to say, my Lord?"

He was close enough that he could hear a hiss coming from beneath the black and red mask.

"The last days of my studies and meditations brought me a somber vision for the Empire. While we thought we had suffered the worst of this war, there will be even more losses. Even more pain. Whatever we sacrifice today will amount to nothing."

He had felt it, too, the lingering hum of a death that lurked but never took its strike. The itch of a slowly progressing disease that never revealed itself in a definite form. Essan drew a breath and held his arms across his chest.

"Vitiate."

"You have sensed him as well, Wrath. I wasn't sure of what I was feeling as I was cultivating the power of the dark side, but-" Marr paused briefly, hesitant as he lowered his head- "ever since the birth of your children, bringing new life aboard this ship, the feeling became clear as day. As if the apparition of newborns had upset the presence of something malevolent."

"And it grows within every thought and nightmare among the crew," he continued. "It feeds on our fear and despair. It may be giving Vitiate too much credit, attributing this phenomenon to his work, but we have to assume that something similar may be occurring."

"Or, we may be more affected by this war than we care to admit," Essan tried to argue. "Valkorion leads a psychological war on top of technological superiority and numbers. The Sith Empire used to be that way, so we're not used to being on the receiving side of it."

Marr appeared to be turning the thought in his mind. "Your rationalization does not help in advancing our case, Lord Skordus."

"What do you want me to say then?" snarled Essan. "That I will practice active-dreaming until I convince Vitiate to devour himself out of sheer narcissism?"

It took him by surprise, and he swore that never in his life he would have seen Darth Marr laugh. The Dark Councilor chuckled in his mask, shaking his head in disbelief. Essan smiled, feeling somewhat serene amidst the hopelessness of their situation.

A set of footsteps progressed towards him and he turned to see Lana Beniko approaching the deck. She wore her dark green tunic and black under armor. Her blond hair almost appeared white in the darkness of the ship. She arrived and stood at attention with her back straight, gloved hands clasped in front of her. She spoke with the chill and calm that Essan had always known her to use. She rarely raised her voice outside of combat.

"We managed to track the Eternal Fleet's prior positions according to Thexan's estimations. We're on the right path to encounter them."

"If this collaboration continues," Marr said, "we will need to assign him an actual title and proper identity. Whatever the outcome, our records will make history and the truth will transpire if we aren't cautious."

He was thinking ahead about the aftermath of the war, when it would be time to rebuild and repay the damage caused. Positivity gained back some grounds but Essan didn't want to fool himself. Even if Thexan turned out to do good by them, his past still made him a war criminal.

"He hasn't been concealing his face as you instructed, Lord Skordus. At least, not in my office. I took care to ask him to put the mask back on before he left the door."

She kept her eyes on the viewport and never dared looking right at him. Essan thought it was an unnecessary precaution.

Yavin 4 was months in the past, he thought she would have moved on by now.

"Has he expressed any sort of criticism towards our tactics?" he asked her.

"There were several points he did not fail to correct in our plan," she replied, raising an annoyed pale brow. "He has asked a complete rework of our approach, judging our intentions harshly... I personally think he is sabotaging us, my Lord."

Essan turned to tower over her with the familiar gut feeling associated with anger as he retorted. "How has this detail not seem important to you, Lana?" He used her first name, aware of how belittling it made him sound. Aware that the whole floor could hear him. "Maybe think about leading with that."

"I am telling you now," she defensively replied, still composed and calm but rage was building in her eyes. "If we allow him to interfere in our plans we may not succeed at all."

"Lana has a point," Marr commented, his deep voice putting a stop to the argument. "Contrarily to you, Darth Skordus, she doesn't share your blind faith in the prince. We will accept his input only if it is wise and overtly beneficial to us." He turned his black and red mask towards her. "I want a detailed report. Have him send his analysis directly to me and without delay."

She bowed her head and turned her heels to leave, not without vengefully eying Essan.

He waited a heartbeat before following her, leaving a short distance between them until he could safely and non threateningly close in on Lana when she was near the elevators.

She kept her face straight and unwavering, waiting for the chime before entering the cabin. He expected her to roll her eyes when he joined her in the elevator, but she was completely neutral. Cold, unaffected in appearance but her blood was boiling.

The cabin dropped smoothly as it lowered. Crossing his arms, Essan waited for a reaction from her part. It was as if she held her breath.

"I won't take the bait of whatever you think will make me upset," she muttered. "Maybe I was hoping to have your support regarding this operation. It turned out that I was wrong."

"I supported your efforts to work with Thexan," he calmly replied. "It turns out there was a limit to that."

"You only want him on our team because you think it would hurt Valkorion."

Oh, how she was far from the truth. He could congratulate himself for that. The elevator stopped and the doors parted to the twelfth level, where the briefing rooms and and tactical engineering happened. The Sith Intelligence office was at the end of a long hallway. He waited until they were near the door to give his retort.

"You are grossly mistaken on my account."

She finally looked at him straight on. "Perhaps you should share some of your insights with me instead of the son of the enemy."

"Everything he knows comes from you regarding the battle plans."

He watched the door open and she stepped in first. It was a large war room and three different offices that the Sith appointed to research and military assets stayed there, to read, study and compile reports of the more secret aspects of the war on Zakuul. They headed for one of the doors.

"I've had him work on naval schematics all morning," Lana said before hitting the door's opening switch. "It seemed to be a better use of our time."

When they entered the smaller office they saw the large holographic display of a Zakuulan frigate, and Thexan was sitting in a chair, leaning backwards with his chin in his ungloved hand. He barely shot a look at them when they came in. Essan turned to Lana, hands propped on his sides.

"You locked him in?"

She scrunched up her face with irritation. He'd always found her soft, child-like features rather amusing in the context that was her line of work.

"He did that himself." She went to inspect the schematic and used the console table to review the different layers of data transcribed on top of the three-dimensional map. "We now have security measures, personnel locations, vulnerabilities all compiled in our records. This is vital information we couldn't have obtained before months of risky covert ops."

Essan looked at Thexan who was silent and deep in his thoughts. Lana was trying to ignore him and only wanted to give the Wrath a piece of her mind regarding the question of trust.

"While we have him on our side, this is the kind of help we need. Not for having our motives questioned and the morale crushed for the sake of one man's better judgment." Her eyes were like fire when she laid them on the former prince. "While I would like to trust you, Wrath, I fear that you've unleashed the most dangerous weapon in the heart of our Empire... or what's left of it."

Upon those words Thexan stood and gathered his mask and gloves from the edge of his desk. As he turned, Essan saw a silver-hilt hanging from his belt.

"Lord Skordus," he began, stopping in front of them, his icy blue eyes resting a mere second on Lana. "Lord Beniko... If I may be so bold, I'd like to have a moment with the detained Knights who helped me survive. It's been over a week. I owe them that much."

Essan nodded and gave Lana a short gaze. "Naturally. Lana, have a copy of the revised schematics sent to me as soon as they've been backed up." He went towards the door, motioning to Thexan. "Walk with me."

Once Thexan was fully concealed in his Sith attire, they stepped out of the Sith Intelligence wing. Operatives and officers barely raised their eyes to look at them: all they could see were two tall men wearing black cloaks and fully covered in armor. Essan's outfit was more complex than the one Thexan was borrowing. From salvaged pieces to augmented tech imbedded in plating, Essan also privileged carrying capacity with many pouches on his belt. At the moment, they contained more baby wipes than battery packs.

He let Thexan walk to his right on purpose to better study the newly built lightsaber he carried.

"I should apologize," he began, his soft voice filtered by the mask's electronics, "for any resentment Lord Beniko may hold against you because of me. I'm aware that my presence is disruptive."

They were going through a lot of stress. "If she has anything to say to me she will get that chance. I hope my crew accommodated you to the Fury last night."

"They weren't rejoicing but I managed to sleep in the medbay."

They went into the elevator and Essan picked the detention block in the level selection.

"What's to become of the Knights?" asked Thexan.

"I can see to their release and reinstatement to Imperial ranks for their protection, so long as they don't do or say anything to incriminate them." He let a second pass before adding, "my prerogatives are limited, but the Imperial judicial system is even more crippled by crooks and narrow vision. If you should talk to them, make that clear for them and insist that they should swear allegiance to Darth Marr."

The elevator kept going down and the silence seemed to be the weight that drove it.

"Shouldn't you be the one telling them?" he asked, the mask hiding his puzzlement.

Essan shook his head. "They're your people, and they still worship you as their prince. You don't need me to coach you through this."

The walls of security guards, Imperial troopers and detention droids equipped for torture let them walk right through the gates and Thexan was easily directed to the cell where his friends were kept. Essan stayed at the front desk. The officer who sat there pretended to be absorbed in her computer terminal, and he spared her the added pressure of his gaze as he waited, arms folded. He plucked the datapad from his belt and consulted his messages: the crew's congratulatory messages for the twins were still saved in his inbox. He wondered if he had to tell anyone else about the news, perhaps some ally who was secluded enough, who certainly would never betray the information to his enemies.

He decided it wasn't worth the risk. He knew nobody who would be happy about learning now that he was now a father. His relatives were gone decades ago. He had never had friends before becoming Sith...

His thumb stopped over Tayleen's name. He blinked and let a moment pass. The page turned and he used his stylus to begin writing.

My dearest Tayleen

You probably know this already, but to me it feels more real in written form.

Footsteps hitting metal floors interrupted him and he watched Thexan coming back from the block, slouching slightly but regaining composure as soon as he saw Essan. Packing his datapad, he walked him out to the elevator again.

"They're uneasy with the idea," explained the Zakuulan, "but they agreed to join the Sith Empire."

Essan nodded and deeply breathed in. "I will have their release forms submitted shortly then. They will be a considerable aid to our infantry training."

He pressed a different button and the elevator went down again. Thexan folded his arms, intrigued.

"How do you so easily forgive your enemy? They- we have killed so many of your men and women, and that doesn't phase you?"

"It phases me greatly," Essan bitterly correctly, "and I'm glad to hear that it actually affects you, too." He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling fatigue eating at him. "I've done my share of torture and punishment for the good of the Empire. Look at where that's gotten us. We are divided, broken and desperate."

The cabin stopped finally and he let Thexan take the first step out. The level was almost deserted, dark and empty.

"Where are we?"

"Sith training halls."

His masked face scanned the vast, tall and intimidatingly wide space meant for sparring. The only light came from rare spots in the ceiling and the wide bay viewport with the few visible stars of Wild Space.

Eventually Thexan walked towards the center of the room, his gait was hesitant and he turned around. Essan stood ten paces away, lightsaber hilt ready.

It needed to happen.

He had to be sure.

Unmoving and radiating doubt, Thexan started with a few deep breaths. "I thought-"

"-I was going to let you walk around with a weapon," Essan interrupted, "and not test your skills in combat?"

Thexan took his silver hilt in hand and ignited the lightsaber. It blazed with crimson light and hummed as steadily as any finely-tuned laser blade. His stance was defensive, his Force presence fading into nothingness. Essan ignited his own weapon and began approaching. He stepped casually in a circle, giving a roll of his wrist to loosen up. His equally red blade spun with a sound that had grown pleasant to his ears. He emptied his mind; there was no more Eternal Empire, no baby twins, no Tayleen. There was only the darkness and his opponent.

And all that he sensed was the void where his presence was supposed to be. It would make this far more difficult than he'd planned.

Thexan did nothing, but he was still slouching and he waited. Essan initiated the first attack, slow at first but not so much that he would let his defense open. Thexan held his saber low privileging movement so as to avoid most of his strikes. The Force seemed to carry his weight more than he was putting his feet down, unencumbered by the heavy armor. Essan found himself having to take a defensive stance when his attempts at breaking through his left him vulnerable.

But Thexan was holding back, he knew it. Essan feigned an attack then spun himself, switching stances to catch him by surprise with a full front strike. The other man's mask was inches from his.

"This isn't a game," he snarled when they locked blades, the crackling noises almost covering his voice. "You need your strength back, Thexan."

He heard a grunt as Thexan pushed on his weapon, giving him a spare fraction of a second to extend his left arm and project a wave of Force power. Essan felt his lungs compress and the floor was far below until his back hit a permacrete wall. He thought he heard cracking, but it was the clash of his armor plates and his teeth knocking against each other. Without thinking, he tossed his weapon, intending to keep Thexan on his toes. The spinning blade flew towards him but he batted it away with his own lightsaber. Essan Force-grabbed his weapon to retrieve it, leaping across the wide hall through combat instinct alone, and his weapon was ready to strike down Thexan as he landed over him.

Side-stepping the attack, Thexan attempted a slash at his back, Essan parried over his head and waited for the next try and Thexan stood on his left leg to spin and his back was left open.

Essan knocked the air out of him with a kick. His attunement to the Force synchronized with his decisions, allowing him to comfortably seize the opportunity as it presented itself. Thexan's right hand, the one holding the lightsaber, came swinging backwards but he was falling forward from his surprise attack. Essan caught the wrist left-handed, twisting it and the joint locked, loosening grip of the weapon. Catching it mid-fall, he took a more secure handle of the new lightsaber as Thexan rolled forward to end up resting a gloved hand upon the floor.

He did not get up.

Essan spun both lightsabers akimbo, cautiously walking towards his opponent. If it was a trap or if Thexan was biding his time, he didn't want the fight to take an ugly turn.

Thexan was panting and he heard his distressed breathing when he got closer. Still cloaking his Force presence, he couldn't tell if the fight was over or not.

But Essan held both weapons now, deciding the sparring had ended and Thexan was defeated by standard rules. He deactivated them and held them both in his left hand. With his other, he reached down. Thexan raised his head to look. He was holding is midsection, still breathing painfully.

"You fought well," Essan told him.

Finally, he caught his arm and let Essan help him up. He hadn't expected him to weigh this much, and had to steady him until he could stand on his both feet by himself. No Sith would have tolerated such weakness. Essan held him by the shoulders, shaking them until he would look at him.

"Listen to me, Thexan," he spoke, his voice hard yet calm. "The pain won't last. You can fight through it."

Sighing coarsely, he shook his head. "I can't... I can't."

His left hand pulled off his mask, dropping it to the floor and his lowered face was covered in sweat and tears, eyes shut tight.

"You have to," replied Essan, hoping with all of his heart that he wasn't wrong about him. "Because if not... we've already lost."

He was tempted to use a slight wave of healing power to ease the agony, but that wouldn't help anyone.

"I'm..." Thexan finally met his gaze, hesitant to open up. "I'm not sure I can face my father and brother again."

They would destroy him without a second's thought. He had become a liability to them, a thorn in their backs. It would be wasteful to use him so soon in a foolish confrontation.

"Your task is here, among us," Essan corrected. "With Tayleen."

Almost holding his breath, Thexan raised his blue eyes at him with shock. "What...?"

Essan straightened his back and held up his lightsaber. The hilt was simple and functional, with straight edges and a series of horizontal vent holes along the igniting end. He handed it over, and Thexan took it back slowly with uncertainty on his face.

"You want me to protect her," he guessed.

Essan nodded and tried to unlock his jaw. "She can protect herself. I need you to do more than that."

His eyes widened and his lips parted to speak before closing, and he shook his head disapprovingly. "That's wrong," he took a step backwards. "She is yours."

"She belongs to no one," Essan quietly told him. "But I'd want to know she won't be alone when I'm gone."

Crippled with doubt, Thexan ran a hand over his face and head, to finally scratch the back of his ear.

"Then you can't leave... What about your children? They will need you."

Essan smiled but his mind was blackened with gloom.

"It wouldn't matter if I'm dead. My ties to the dark side would only bring harm to my family. You, on the other hand, have known what it means to fight for your kin, despite who you were fighting. And you'll know better than to repeat your father's mistakes."

He tried to ignore the tears that rolled down his face, too distracted by his own. He placed a hand over his shoulder again, directing them towards the elevator to head back to his ship.

"Do you need a medic?" he opened up a belt pouch and prepared a kolto shot.

Thexan winced and put his mask back on. "I'll be fi-"

He groaned as Essan jabbed his side with the injection gun, right between two armor plates. He smirked at having successfully taken by surprise the son of Valkorion.

"We can't have you limping around Marr's flagship."

"Thank you," he hissed in reply. "I think I'm starting to understand the price of all this generosity."

It was like the old saying, or something Essan had heard before but failed to remember exactly how it was said. Changing someone or something's existence meant taking responsibility for the rest of their life. He convinced himself it was the right thing to do.

She would understand.