Voss

Quinn was gasping by the time he reached the door of the hut, but he was too frantic to care about the stitch in his side or the ache in his throat. All he cared about was the message.

"Your master's sent for you. It's urgent."

Urgent was an understatement. Even if her survival was no longer a secret, Ishtaa was keeping her activities quiet. She wouldn't broadcast her movements or location by sending him a message through random Imperial soldiers unless her situation was dire.

There were two more soldiers waiting inside.

"You're the captain the Sith sent for?"

Quinn nodded.

"In there," one of them said, indicating a room with a closed door.

Quinn thanked them and hurried into the room.

"My lord—" He stopped dead in his tracks. He'd gone over a thousand scenarios on the way…Ishtaa wounded, Ishtaa ill, Ishtaa tortured, Ishtaa dead or dying…but he could not have foreseen the holo-projector, or the man it cast before him in the middle of the room.

Darth Baras.

"You."

"Captain Quinn. I was wondering how long it would take you to arrive. You must have been very worried to have gotten here so quickly." He paused. "How unfortunate."

Quinn became acutely aware of the blaster holstered to his belt. His fingers ached to squeeze the trigger and shoot his way out, to run and warn Ishtaa, but he knew that, even in holo form, his chances of escaping Baras were slim to none.

"The soldiers outside are under orders to keep you here. But I'm sure you've already deduced that it would be prudent to work with me."

He swallowed hard. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he could almost feel fat fingers clenching around his throat.

"You're deluded if you think you're getting any information out of me."

There was no question now. The grip on his neck was definitely tightening.

"Mind your tongue," Baras snarled. He relinquished his grip, causing Quinn to sputter and cough reflexively. "Another Sith would break your neck for such insolence." He looked down at Quinn indulgently. "But I am merciful, and I will ignore this impudence in light of your current state."

"What 'state?'"

"When I promoted you, Captain, and let you off Balmorra, I thought I was promoting a man who was unfailingly loyal to the Empire. I had no doubt that you would do whatever necessary to promote the Empire's interests, and to protect it from those who would see it corrupted or destroyed." He stopped pacing. "Obviously, even the best of us can be mistaken."

Quinn glared up at him. "You question my loyalty?"

Baras' head snapped around to face Quinn. "Questions are for the uncertain. I learned what I needed to know the moment my true apprentice set off those explosives on Quesh, when you learned that the deceiver lived and failed to inform me immediately."

"I serve my master."

"Your loyalty should be mine," Baras snapped. "Those soldiers informed you that your master had sent for you with good reason. I am your master. You serve me, not this forsaken apprentice. Or have you forgotten so easily who it was who rescued you from the slime of Balmorra?"

Quinn's reply died in his throat. It seemed like so long ago; so much had happened since then, but Ovech's words were suddenly as fresh as if they had been spoken yesterday. Have you lost your mind?

"I seek the good of the Empire."

"You have to gall to claim the ability of discerning the Empire's best interests? You are but a peon on the galactic scale of affairs, a common soldier. This Empire is run by the Sith, and it exists only to serve Sith interests. You would do well to remember that."

"Lord Ishtaa is as much a Sith as you."

"She is NOT," Baras ground out from between his teeth.

Quinn shivered as a wave of energy went through the room, rattling the furnishings. Baras appeared to realize his lack of control, and rested his hands at his side before he continued.

"Ah, but I forget. Your error is not entirely your own. I had best store up my anger for those who have earned it."

"By outliving their usefulness as loyal servants?"

"Ishtaa was no servant of mine, and I doubt she is even capable of loyalty. The execution of my spies was a necessary loss. This is different. She is a deceiver of the highest order. She fooled even me for quite some time."

"What are you talking about?" Quinn sneered.

"Let's not waste time with pretensions, Quinn," Baras said patronizingly. "My information tells me that you have grown very close to Ishtaa. Do you deny it?" Quinn remained silent. "As I thought," said Baras. "My apprentice has seduced you into blind allegiance."

"She did not seduce me," spat Quinn, "and I do not follow her blindly. I—"

"Let me guess. You 'love her.'"

Quinn's hands curled into fists, his eyes blazing and his jaw trembling with fury. If Baras had been anyone else, anything less than one of the most powerful Sith in the galaxy, he would have torn him to shreds with verbal abuse. The only thing that halted his reflex to lunge at the man was the fact that it was a holo-projection, incorporeal and incapable of being harmed.

Baras clucked his tongue. "Look at yourself, Quinn. Look what she's done to you. You are barely controlling your temper. You used to be so calm. You kept yourself in line, you had your feet on the ground, and you stood for the Empire." Quinn began to protest, but Baras cut him off. "If you had to choose between the Empire and Ishtaa, which would you choose?"

He scoffed. "What a ridiculous question. Ishtaa is a top-notch fighter and a brilliant leader. Losing her would be a strategic—"

"Which," Baras repeated, "would you choose?"

Quinn blinked rapidly. "The Empire," he said flatly.

"Really? So if you could watch her die, in order that the Empire might live, you would do it?"

He repressed a shudder. Belsavis had come back to him. It had passed mercifully quickly, but there had been one night—a night when Ishtaa was away from the ship, travelling with Jaesa to find the Dread Masters—when he had been plagued with nightmares for hours on end. They came flooding back to him, images of her sharp green eyes staring blankly ahead, glassy in death, her body twisted at an unnatural angle, and he knew, he could see by her face, that she had died in pain.

If we were involved…

"Quinn."

He came to, startled by Baras' voice. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes.

Baras began to pace again with a sigh. "Quinn, Quinn, Quinn…How could this have happened? Did you not realize that it would end this way? You are compromised."

I have been compromised.

"No." Quinn shook his head. "That's not…I—what does it matter who I would choose?" he burst out, stammering. "That would never happen. There is no possible scenario where it would benefit the Empire to lose her. To hell with where my loyalties lie…her, the Empire, wherever. There is no conflict!"

"That's where you are wrong." He stopped his pacing, and braced himself against a desk. "Have you read any of the reports filed about your missions under Lord Ishtaa?"

"The ones that weren't classified," Quinn said cautiously.

"Did you? Then surely you've noticed a pattern running through them." Baras waved a hand, and all at once the viewscreen was filled with documents and reports, official paperwork that floated across the screen. Baras tapped one of them and brought it to the center, where it blew up to a legible size. "'Lord Ishtaa is competent at her work, but she employs tactics unexpected in a Sith,'" he read aloud. "'Suggest further monitoring.'" He tapped another one. "'Lord Ishtaa deviated from the recommended course of action, which had been vetted by other Sith, and pursued her own agendas. Though it was within her power to do so, it is the humble opinion of this outpost that her defiance of Sith norms should be evaluated.' And another, 'In choosing to spare the lives of enemy combatants, Lord Ishtaa has endangered the future success of the Empire by creating the expectation of mercy.' On and on and on!" he ended with a shout, banishing all the documents with a wave of his arm. "Don't you see? She is a threat to the Empire. Do you think these Imperial soldiers would comment on her behavior otherwise? You saw for yourself after the Battle of Druckenwell how reluctant they are to risk their own necks by contradicting their superiors, even when the situation is dire. The fact that they are speaking up now…it is nothing short of damning."

"No," said Quinn. "You're trying to trick me. You've fabricated these-these reports, trying to make me turn on her. I won't do it."

"Why would I go to the trouble of turning you on false pretenses? Understand: I am going to destroy her. I must. She is a pestilence to the Empire, and for the Empire's sake I cannot let her continue to live. I have the means to kill her a thousand times over, and none of them depend on a lowly captain. I have no need of your help."

"Then why bring me here?"

"I am trying to help you, Quinn," said Baras impatiently. "I rescued your career because I saw that you had potential. The question is, will you let me save you now?"

"I don't need saving."

"Then you are a fool. I have proven to you that she is a danger to the Empire, and you have already admitted that your judgment is clouded, yet you refuse to take any action against her, because of what? Your unrequited love?"

Quinn stumbled, taken aback. He stood there mutely, trying and failing to form a protest.

Baras didn't wait for one to come out. "I suppose you mean to tell me that it is not unrequited," he said sardonically. "You think that this beautiful, young, intelligent, strong, powerful Sith would love you? A disgraced Imperial soldier who has missed his chance?"

Quinn couldn't even try to protest now. He had closed his eyes, bracing himself against the gnawing ache in his chest, and just waiting for Baras' onslaught to stop.

It went on. "I don't deny the possibility that her physical attraction to you is in earnest, but think rationally. Do you really think that such a relationship would last? Could you stake everything," Baras asked, "your career, your better judgment, your Empire, on a paltry fling?" He let out a bark that bordered on laughter. "Why, she is already planning her next escapade. Bored of the proper officer, she takes on a roguish soldier."

Quinn's eyes shot open. "Don't be ridiculous!" he retorted. "Ishtaa would never take Pierce as a lover. It's absurd!"

"More absurd than being drawn to a stuffy, bookish disgrace?"

Quinn could feel himself shaking as he struggled to breathe without letting Baras detect the lump in his throat.

"Be rational, Quinn. Don't let your misplaced affections rule your head. Do you want to fall with her? Or stand with the Empire?"

He stared at the ground without answering for a long time. Thoughts swirled in his head. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. He was compromised…a fling…misplaced…worthless…

"What must I do?" he said quietly, not raising his eyes from the ground.

He heard approval in Baras' voice, but it did nothing to change the sensation that there was a piece of cold stone in his breast, and a hollow in the pit of his stomach.

"Welcome back to life, Captain Quinn."

He flinched at the mocking familiarity of the words. He turned his head aside, his eyes still fixed on the ground.

"You will return to your ship, and behave as if nothing has happened. As for enabling my plans, you need not worry. I require nothing more than your loyalty for the time being. I have already made arrangements for the traitor's death. There are several apprentices who are eager for a subject on which to test their prowess and…creativity. With their methods, her actual death may take some time, but I intend to have her in custody in short order. I will inform you when I have further instructions." He made as if to end the call.

"Wait." Quinn looked up, no longer hiding his face. There were tears in his eyes, but he didn't care if Baras knew his agony. There was something more important that he had to do. "Let me do it." He couldn't help it; the tears began to flow. "I know she's a danger to the Empire, but I can't…" He broke off. "Please," he said raggedly. "Let me be the one to end her life."

Baras hesitated, considering.

"Very well," he said reluctantly. "You have one month. And if you should go back on your word…" He trailed off, the threat evident.

Quinn gave a stiff bow. "Yes…my lord."

He didn't move from the bow until he heard the the crackle of the holoprojector turning off, and when he did, he did not stand upright. Instead he crumpled, curling in on himself until he sunk to his knees, and let himself give in to the weeping.