A/N: Just as a precautionary measure, I'm letting everyone know that this chapter is rated M. I've had to bump up the story's rating, although I may bring it back down in a few chapters. I'm assuming we're all adults here, but it's better to be safe than sorry. That being said, I'm off to take a cold shower and see if I can stop blushing. :)
Scourge gazed up at the girl's return, schooling his face to neutral. The Twi'lek skipped over and handed him the comlink before sitting beside Karawn. She was radiating with energy, and Scourge wondered how her brothers put up with it. He glanced down at Daesha's image. Her eyes were wide, her expression dumbfounded. Her arms hung limply at her sides, and Scourge recalled the way they had felt clinging to his neck. He hadn't had a chance to amuse himself in quite a while, and teasing her seemed like the perfect excuse. "Jedi," he greeted, inclining his head slightly. She blinked and stiffened, remembering that they had an audience.
"Sith," she nodded, crossing her arms. "It is an unexpected pleasure."
"The pleasure is all mine. Although I must say that I wish it were under different circumstances," he said. "Your brother seems to think that you can redeem me."
"That is unlikely. However, the light is always waiting," she snorted.
"I do not seek the light," he murmured. "Rather, something much more alluring." Daesha raised an eyebrow.
"Please, enlighten me as to what could be more alluring than the light side of the Force. In its full power, it would leave you unable to do anything besides weep," she taunted. He gave her an indulgent smile, as if he were speaking to an errant child. She frowned.
"There are many things a man may seek. I am not held captive in my endeavors by an outdated Code. Instead, I pursue what I desire," he reminded her. Daesha fidgeted uncomfortably. When she looked back up, her gaze was determined.
"Only time will tell if you shall acquire it," she shot back. Scourge absently stroked the right tendril on his face before shrugging lazily.
"Oh, but I will," he disagreed. "The dark side holds more than the Jedi realize. Its power of corruption is unmatched."
"Corruption is not a goal worth seeking," Daesha glowered.
"Neither is false serenity or indulgent self-righteousness," Scourge argued.
"Then what do you seek?" Daesha inquired. Her expression softened, and Scourge remembered how pliant and warm she had been against him, before his departure. Her passion had been a marked contrast from the reserved Jedi Master he knew. She had felt so alive, her presence like the buzz of Alderaani wine. That was what he wanted to see, what he wanted to possess, more than anything. If they had been alone, he might have admitted it.
"That is a discussion for another day," he eluded. "For the moment, I believe your brother would be better conversation," Daesha leaned forward.
"We will speak again," she promised. It sounded like a threat.
"Indeed we will," he agreed. "Farewell." She nodded before Scourge handed the comlink back to Karawn. The Twi'lek took it, regarding him suspiciously. Scourge stood and left them, retreating back to the privacy of his pallet. He took a seat and began hurling his shivs at the crate again, relishing the small thud they made upon striking it. It only took ten minutes for the girl to find him again. Scourge gripped the shiv tightly and motioned her forward with his hand. She sat beside him.
"What was that all about?" she asked. Scourge glanced down at the shiv and remained silent. It was the one Daesha had given him; thankfully, it was not pink and yellow, but rather a sleek, dark brown. He ran his fingers along the hilt of it before placing it back in its holster. When he turned to face the girl, she was tugging on one of her lekku anxiously.
"My species embrace the dark side of the Force. Your sister and the Jedi embrace the light side. It is as simple as that," he said.
"So you can't embrace the light side?" Teeubo asked. "What could be so bad about it? Daesha never stops rambling about the peace it brings her. She's happy."
"Things among the Jedi are much more complicated than your sister lets on," Scourge said. "They have many practices that I disagree with." Teeubo studied him for a moment, and Scourge realized that her brown gaze was almost as piercing as Daesha's. She smiled suddenly, the kind a child might use when they cannot be convinced that they are wrong.
"You're scared to change," she deduced. Scourge's hands clenched into fists, and he rounded on her. He glared at her, and she only gazed back. He thought he understood now why Daesha had never seemed intimidated by him. Growing up with brothers must have numbed her to any attempts at it.
"Be careful, young one," he growled. "Her standing will not save you, should you choose to antagonize me." Teeubo snorted before a faraway look glazed over her eyes. Scourge could feel a small surge of power around her, and it confused him. It was not the Force; that he knew. Yet she had an energy of some kind. She blinked rapidly before coming out of the small trance.
"I won't ask you what you seek," she said. "But if you're looking for your friend, you'll find him on Dantooine." Scourge raised an eye ridge in surprise. Meetra had been telling the truth in his dream; although he had never expected this youngling to be the one to guide him. "We have a cousin there, a man named Jor Passick. He may be able to help you find what you're looking for."
"Why are you helping me?" Scourge asked suspiciously. Teeubo smiled.
"Compassion is the lifeblood of the universe. Without it, what would we become?" she shrugged. "We live by that philosophy, especially Daesha. Besides, the day may come when we need a big, scary Sith to owe us a favor."
Scourge smirked, impressed by her pragmatism. "Indeed, Twi'lek." Teeubo grinned.
"Happy hunting," she said, squeezing his shoulder before returning to her brothers.
The sound of the chirping comm woke Scourge, and he slammed his hand down on it. Would he never get a full night's rest again? The sounds of speeder traffic filled his head, and he dazedly remembered that he was on Ord Mantell, resting in some cheap motel before his departure tomorrow morning. He had finally located a freighter to take him to Dantooine, and from there, he knew it would not take long to find Jor Passick. He wasn't sure if Teeubo had informed the man of his impending arrival, but it mattered little. He had more than enough credits to pay the Twi'lek for his trouble. The comm chirped again, and he turned it on. For a moment, he thought he was still dreaming when Daesha came into view. She was dressed in sleep clothes, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear nervously.
"Did I catch you at a bad time?" she asked. Scourge pushed himself up on one elbow and shook his head. She glanced down, and he remembered that he wasn't wearing anything. "Are you-could you please put on a shirt?" she requested.
"Am I distracting you, Jedi?" he asked. Daesha glared up at him, and he could almost see her blushing. He was surprised she could be so modest. She had seen him like this in the medical bay before, and he had certainly seen her there, with less on. Daesha winked.
"You are…an impressive specimen, I will admit," she flirted. "I have yet to meet anyone who has your prowess in combat."
"If you think that's impressive, wait until you see my prowess in other areas," he smirked. Daesha rolled her eyes.
"Don't tease me, Sith," she protested. "I eagerly await your return." Scourge studied her, noting that she was wearing shorts and a tank top. Wherever they were, it must have been an arid environment.
"Where have the Council seen fit to send you now?" he asked.
"Tatooine, unfortunately," Daesha answered. "The heat is oppressive. The task we're facing is difficult enough without having thoughts of you flitting through my head."
"That depends entirely on the type of thought," he drawled.
"I should know better than to expect any sympathy," she sighed. "Like asking a rancor to take up meditation."
"Meditation is like beating one's head against a rock, for those who embrace the darkness. And no self-respecting rancor would try it. They are brave, powerful…dangerous," he murmured.
"Also reckless, ugly, and quick-tempered," Daesha shot back, crossing her arms. Scourge raised an eye ridge at her.
"You think me ugly?" he asked. She only smiled down at her feet. "You certainly didn't seem to think that before I departed Tython. And my looks didn't play any factor when you were whimpering from the pleasure I was bringing you." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. "And do not try to deny it. I could feel your passion so strongly at that moment…it was intoxicating." Daesha rubbed the back of her neck nervously, still studying her feet.
"You have your appeal," she finally smiled before looking up at him. "I won't deny my attraction to you, Scourge. But that is not actually why I commed you."
"And that would be?" he asked.
"I told you we would speak again, and I need answers. This whole incident is disturbing. How in the name of the Force did you find my family? Were you…planning this?" she hesitated.
"It was mere coincidence," he assured her. "I had not realized how they were related to you until just before you contacted the girl. Your brother had just finished relaying your less-than-impressive origins to me." Daesha's eyes narrowed. "Although your disposition towards unnecessary acts of compassion makes more sense now."
"Without the compassion of my parents, I would be dead," Daesha shrugged. "They took me into their lives when they didn't have to, and I owe them for that. To try to pass that favor on, in whatever ways I can, is the least I can do."
"Excuses," Scourge scoffed. "Just another reason for you to follow the dogmatic strictures of the Jedi."
"And if it weren't for the compassion of two Twi'leks, Scourge, how would your vision have gone? Your 'champion' would have been dead before her life even had a chance to begin. The galaxy itself would have reaped the consequences of one woman's decision to abandon her child in a dumpster instead of leaving her at a hospital. Kira might have fallen back to the Sith on Angral's cruiser. Doc would still be with the Balmorran resistance, and Rusk would still be stuck on Hoth. You would still be connected to that insane di'kut," she argued.
"You argument has merit," Scourge finally admitted.
"I know you don't agree with the things that I do, but I do them for a reason," Daesha said. "Not just some personal need to save everyone. You never know if the simplest action of mercy will save a life, or the whole galaxy, in some cases." Scourge sneered at the thought of mercy, but he could not deny the logic of her arguments. Without her mercy, he knew that he would still be trapped by his curse, unable to feel or hope. He was struck again by the urge to repay her, and he wished that she were in the room with him. He could overcome her resistance, break down her barriers until she finally let him show her the kind of pleasure she had given him. Her voice broke him out of his thoughts. "What did you think of my brothers and sister?"
"Your sister is quite irritating, and your brothers are far too protective," Scourge answered easily. "Her rebellious streak will only grow, if they continue to suffocate her. Better to let her make a foolish mistake and suffer the consequences. Only experience can teach some beings."
"You do not know what happened," Daesha said. "The consequences in this case might have been catastrophic to her and the entire family. She got away from them on Coruscant and disappeared into the underworld for almost three hours. They found her in a club only one block away from the Raqours' headquarters," Daesha informed him. "Luckily they found her before someone else did."
"And the Raqours are?" Scourge asked.
"Dangerous gangsters who specialize in the sex trade. A beautiful, inexperienced young Twi'lek is just a muja ripe for the taking in their eyes," she answered. "I learned about them in my years before Tython, when Master Coren and I were trying to find an arms dealer selling cloaked weapons to the Imperials. His base of operations was in their territory. Caden kept me close during that mission." She remained silent after that, yet Scourge could sense the anger behind her words.
"You have something else to say," he prodded.
"My father knows the group as well, I suspect. He and my mother refuse to discuss their experiences on Ryloth, but I know that he's hiding something. When he heard of that mission, he became pale and started shaking in fury. Mother actually had to restrain him before he hit Master Coren. He said that if they ever put me in a situation like that again, he would take me back from the Jedi. I have never seen him so angry, to this day. I should have advised Karawn not to say what part of town she was in."
"The girl needs to pay for her own mistakes. You cannot shield her forever," Scourge advised.
"You are right, of course. But she is my sister, and you have never met my father. He is quite intimidating," Daesha informed.
"At least I finally understand why I never seemed to faze you," he growled.
"Oh, you disturb me in many other ways," she said. "But I learned to hold my own early. It took me several years, but by the time Master Coren found me, I had Nabat and Karawn doing everything I said." Scourge let out an appreciative chuckle, thinking back to his vision.
"Powerful even as a child," he said. "The galaxy would be yours, if only you would reach out and take it." She held up a hand.
"As I told Sajar, I seek no power. I will always be a servant of others, never their master," she insisted. Scourge frowned at the name, possessiveness rooting in his chest. She crossed her arms again, tilting to her other hip. "Do you honestly feel threatened by Sajar? I have never looked at him as anything besides a fellow Jedi."
"You were certainly looking at that Cathar," Scourge retorted. "I have not forgotten that."
"It was just a kiss! Not even a very good one, at that," she gawked. "By the hells, nothing else happened! You saw to that personally."
"He had no right to touch you," he seethed.
"And you think you do?" Daesha asked, eyebrows shooting up. "I am not yours to own."
"That is a contest yet to be determined," Scourge muttered.
"Possession is forbidden, in the world I exist in," she argued.
"I am no Jedi," he promised. "You will see that when I return."
"A pity, that. If you were a Jedi, you would still be here with us," she sighed. "And I would not have found this," she said, calling his Cross of Glory over with the Force.
"You were in my quarters? You must be desperate if you are willing to stoop to such actions." Daesha glared at him but didn't reply. "I will hurry my return," he said. She shook her head before tucking his medal into her pocket.
"Take your time, my friend. Revan was unconventional at best, and his knowledge of the Force was unmatched. If you can convince him to trust you, he will have much to teach. It may be quite some time," she acknowledged. "But I have learned to be patient."
"As have I," Scourge said. "The anticipation only makes the reward that much more tempting."
"Indeed," Daesha smiled. "I wish you the best of luck in your mission, Scourge. I feel more rides on this than what we suspect. May the Force guide you."
"And you, Ven. Embrace your passion," he said.
"More likely I'll die of a heat stroke first, but we will see. Good night," she joked before powering off her device. Scourge placed his comlink beside the bed and turned on his back. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep but could find no rest. The conversation had woken him. His mind was racing across the galaxy in two directions, one part towards Dantooine and one part towards Tattooine. His limbs itched for action. Scourge shook his head and tried to tamp the feeling down through sheer force of will. He lay rigidly still and concentrated, but his mind would not cooperate. Finally, Scourge rose and began pacing the floor. He would have started doing katas, had the room not been so small. The hotel had no courtyard, and he had no desire to be arrested for disturbing the peace.
The night air was a mild temperature, neither too hot nor cold. It was spring on Ord Mantell. Yet Scourge continued to pace, disturbed by something he could not identify. He grew warm, heat spreading through his limbs as he walked. His heart began to pound, and his breathing came quicker. His body suddenly seemed too small to contain him. He opened the room's only window, seeking some refuge from the feeling. That only made it worse. The air carried the faintest scent of jasmine, and Scourge suddenly realized who he was seeking. He slammed his fist down onto the windowsill. He would pack, find the fastest ship to Tattooine, track her…and prove that he had no more self control than those kriffing Zabraks. Scourge dragged a hand down his face, trying to ignore the sharp stabs of arousal that were starting in his abdomen. He had been so irritated the previous night that he had been able to ignore what the pair were doing. Now, it was all he could think of. Scourge shook his head, trying to concentrate on anything besides what he had witnessed. The memory of the Zabraks' groans and sighs echoed through his head, though; and he grew hard. Energy seemed to flow through his blood, yet he felt as if he were drunk.
Scourge collapsed onto the bed. Although he was frustrated, his curiosity won out in the end. He grasped his erection, flinching slightly at the contact. The sensation felt alien, it had been so long. Scourge pumped himself experimentally a few times, heart rate quickening at the contact. He remembered his first experiences doing this back at the Sith academy, when he had been about thirteen. He quickly pushed the memories aside. He had no desire to think of that time. Not at this moment, at least. The Force had given him a gift, and he intended to take it. This was where his life began again. Scourge drowned himself in the memory of what he had witnessed the night before. Sharp spikes of heat flooded him as he thought of the woman's breathy, pleasured sighs as her mate had stifled his groans against her shoulder. Thinking of their joining made Scourge's head spin, and it fell back onto the bed as his hand moved faster. He began to tremble lightly, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his body. He tried remembering his last sexual encounter, with a Twi'lek slave of Nyriss' about three weeks before he had met the Exile. She had been pretty enough, he supposed, and genuinely attracted to him, which was why he had chosen her. Her voracity in the bedroom had fueled his own passion, and her smile upon leaving had told him all he needed to know about his performance. Not that it had mattered to him at the time. He vaguely remembered staring down at her, but the memory quickly evaporated.
Instead, Daesha flashed into his mind. He imagined her squirming underneath him as he buried himself inside her. Her long hair was wrapped around his forearm, and one hand was cupping the back of her head. His other hand was supporting her bottom, drawing her as close as possible while he moved inside her. Her legs had wrapped around his midsection and her arms were clinging to his neck. She had turned her head away from him, eyes closed in embarrassment. He might have been angry at that, had she not felt so damn incredible. He had buried his face against her neck, huffing as he moved. Her breathing was rapid and needy, even if she was trying to be quiet. That seemed more like something she would do. He turned her face to his, staring down at her. Her eyes fluttered behind her lids and he kissed her, trying to force some reaction to gauge how she felt. Her eyes opened after a few seconds, the pupils dilated until they almost looked black. There was confusion in her gaze, as if she didn't understand how she was doing this. She tried to pull back to speak, but Scourge held her head in place and ravaged her mouth. His other hand trailed to where they were joined, and he slowed his speed so he could torment her. Her arms tightened painfully around his neck, her nails digging into the sides of his head. She gazed up at him as he played with her, expression pleading. Scourge nipped her lower lip insistently. She whimpered as he stroked her, finally shattering from the manipulation and crying out. The sound sent him over the edge. Scourge groaned as he came, arching off the bed as his vision flashed white.
He lay still for some time after that, relishing the lazy heat that had spread through his abdomen. His mouth formed a half-crazed grin, something akin to hope filling his chest. Little else could compare to the pinnacle of ecstasy he had just experienced. The only thing that might have enhanced it was if a certain Jedi had been underneath him, experiencing it as well. He needed to find Revan. And after that, he would return to Daesha. She was always preaching about the peace the light side brought her. He would destroy that peace and expose her passion. He would teach her how to harness and direct it. He would show her what ecstasy meant, how it was part of the Force just as much as the serenity she sought. Perhaps, by doing that - by gorging on her passion, he might even find a semblance of peace, if only for a few seconds.
