The Sanctuary of Regret

Chapter Fifty-Two

When Scourge woke, he found himself alone. Even without looking, he could tell the morning was dreary and overcast and the shivering canvas walls suggested the wind was picking up to bring a storm.

Liatrix's side of the sleeping mat was cool to the touch—wherever she'd gone, or whatever she was doing, she'd left a while ago. He could still feel the soothing impressions her fingers had left on his body and where his flesh had been tight and knotted, it was now relaxed.

Glimpses of the night before flickered in his mind—vivid tangles of scarlet and pale flesh—two bodies so thoroughly entwined in the darkness that it was uncertain where one started and the other ended. The draft skimming his shoulder as he dressed, could have just as easily been her hair.

For the first time in years he felt whole, his body energized but also serene. He broke through the tent flaps and straightened to his full height to survey the site. Much of the camp had been packed up, only Liatrix's tent and the food cooking over a low fire remained.

He noticed her through the mirage wriggling above the flames. She sat perched on a large rock, the wind rustling her hair in time with the waves rolling across the ocean below. In her hands, she held a sprig of wild grain that bowed when the wind touched it.

Cautiously, he approached her and stood by her side to share in the view. He reached for her through the Force, but what he sensed unsettled him.

"I sense regret in you," he said impassively—sternly. "You wish to forget—don't deny it."

Idly she rolled the weeds between her fingers and considered her response. "I do—but not in the way you're thinking."

"Then, by all means, enlighten me," he grumbled, his lips clenching into a tight line.

"The first night I talked to my father, he asked me what I feared most."

"Regret," Scourge interrupted.

"That's right," she said, plucking the grain from the chaff and mindlessly tossing it over the ledge. "But I've realized something—without regrets, we'd never realize how important something or someone is."

"And last night, made you aware of this."

"Yes—but it wasn't just last night—it's all the times we've shared."

"You regret every moment we've spent together?" He growled, folding his arms across his chest to contain his anger.

Her eyes grew wide and she turned to face him fully. "No! Is that what you thought I was trying to say?"

"You are being rather cryptic and you know how I hate games."

"I'm sorry," she smiled and reached up to take his hands in hers. "Sometimes, it takes me a while to build up to what I want to say, especially when it's important."

"How long have we known one another? Spit it out."

"Fine. What I wanted to say, is that you've always been there for me when I needed you most. In spite of everything you still care. You could've walked away many times—"

"I did once."

"But you came back," she looked up at him earnestly. "You're everything to me. You understand me like no one else does. I've been too blind and stupid to see it before and I'm sorry."

Scourge cocked his head thoughtfully. "And reckless and easily tempted and stubborn, and we mustn't forget impulsive."

"If you're finished, there is one more thing I'd like to say."

"I could go on all day," Scourge mused. "But I must admit, I'm curious."

She eased herself off the boulder and stood before him. Her gaze settled first on their intertwined hands as she organized her thoughts and what she wanted to say before meeting his gaze again.

Scourge smirked and reveled in the heartfelt gleam in her eyes and the subdued turn of her mouth. "Yes, my lord Emperor?"

"I'm being serious and you're making fun of me," she said, eyeing him warily.

"Forgive me," he needled and tried for a more solemn expression. "That was not my intention. Continue."

"This place," she began, "will always mean more to me than I can say, and because of that, it feels like the right place to tell you that I love you and I want to make you happy."

"You truly mean that," he murmured. "I can sense your sincerity."

"I'd like this be a renewal for us—another chance—if you're willing."

"I can't allow you to shoulder the blame entirely—there've been times I haven't been easy to live with either." He glanced down at their connected hands and caressed hers with his thumbs. "It has never been easy for us."

"No, it hasn't. Fate hasn't exactly been cooperative."

"No," Scourge barked. "Don't blame fate—our difficulties have stemmed from misunderstandings, doubt, and secrecy. For this to work, we must allow each other in and accept that we create our own problems."

"I know it hasn't been easy, but nothing worth having ever is. I haven't always known what I wanted, but I do now."

"And what about the spy?"

"I won't lie, I care about him—but you're the one who's been with me and when things seemed impossible, you knew what I needed. I thought I was finished and you showed me I wasn't. You saved me."

"Don't mistake gratitude for love."

"I'm not!" She tugged her hands out of his. "There you go again—making assumptions about my feelings. I'm grateful yes, but more than that, I love you."

"One night of passion brought about these realizations?"

"No! I've been thinking about things for a while now."

"I want to be certain this time. I won't have you running back to him at the first sign of trouble."

"I don't know what I have to do to prove myself to you. You said you felt my sincerity—why isn't that enough? I meant everything I said."

He stood before her looking as if he'd been slapped. "Given our history, can you blame me for being cautious?"

"I suppose not—but I was being cautious too. I took a chance with you last night and an even bigger one in telling you how I feel. I'm almost wishing I hadn't."

"I'm far too old to be trifled with yet again."

"Do you love me?"

"How can you even ask me that?"

"Maybe I need to hear you say it in the light of day."

"Last night wasn't enough? I swore an eternity of oaths to you."

"People say all kinds of things in bed they don't mean the next day. Do you love me?"

His eyes blazed and every muscle grew taut at the possibility of battle, but something in her eyes drained the anger from his body and left him with the only answer he ever knew. "Yes, I love you. I've always loved you. Since the first moment I laid eyes on you in my vision, there was never another. Only you."

"Then there is hope for us?"

"Yes, there's hope."

The aroma of sizzling boar bacon, eggs, and fresh caf wafted up to meet them. "Then let's have breakfast and after we'll leave for Rishi," Liatrix said, taking his hand.

"Perhaps not immediately after," he said suggestively.

"Oh?" Liatrix arched an eyebrow.

"One of us will need to scour that pan," he said with a smirk and nodded to what might have been scrambled eggs once.


Bound at the wrists and knees in durasteel binders, Ilia watched the levels blink by as the elevator aboard the Invidia carried her and her two captors steadily upward.

Crops of bruises girded her arms just above the elbow and blood oozed from the center of her lower lip after one of them struck her. Her resistance had to be authentic. In return, four scratches marred the larger man's fleshy cheek just under his left eye and the second, with his upper thighs pressed together, cringed and rocked back and forth to sooth the blow to his most delicate anatomy.

The elevator groaned to a stop and the black durasteel doors parted with a whoosh. Beyond them the bridge crew paused their duties, their attention fixed momentarily on the new arrivals.

Lt. Illes met them with a curt nod. "Lord Jadus instructs the prisoner be escorted to his personal quarters." The lieutenant's gaze shifted to her arms. "She's injured, he won't be pleased."

"She put up a fight," the beefy hunter croaked. "Junker here," he said motioning to his partner, "may never breed again."

"With his looks, that's probably a good thing," Lt. Illes muttered. "This way."

Before Illes could announce his arrival the doors to Jadus's quarters parted. The lieutenant swallowed hard and led the hunters and their prize inside.

"My Lord," Illes said with a deep bow. "As you requested," he said gesturing to the trio.

The burly hunter laid a small pistol and a dagger before Jadus. "Her weapons, my Lord. No sniper rifle though."

Ilia scoffed. "I wasn't planning on assassinating the market vendors, not when haggling is more effective."

Junker jabbed her side. "Shaddup."

Jadus circled Ilia. "My asset is damaged. Lieutenant, compensate the hunters less twenty percent of their fee and have them shown out. That'll be all."

"Yes, my Lord." Illes bowed his head and escorted the hunters from the Sith's quarters.

"That wasn't so bad," Junker's voice carried before the doors hissed shut.

"Still using the same code I see," Ilia said, shaking her head. "Those men have no idea..."

"Their lives were forfeit the moment they disregarded my orders, Agent."

"You ordered them to bring me here, and here I am. I did put up a fight. Show mercy, my Lord."

"Space kills instantly. Is that not merciful? My preferred methods would have extended their suffering indefinitely."

"I suppose," Ilia murmured.

"I fail to understand your guilt. Their lives meant nothing. They are not worthy of your compassion."

"They were your servants. They obeyed you."

"They mismanaged the simplest of commands. They were to bring you before me, unharmed. I didn't spare them out of some misguided sense of clemency. I spared them because imposing their sentence would only serve to delay my plans."

"Why am I here?"

"I prefer a more direct and efficient form of communication."

"Surely that can't be the only reason you had me abducted. I'd only like to know why?"

"Long ago, you served me well. You dedicated yourself to me and my purpose. Selling secrets and living as a fugitive is a waste of your talents. You belong in my service."

"And that's why you extended my life expectancy? What makes you think I could be trusted to work for you again?"

"Motivation."

"Just what do you think you could offer me?"

"The life of your husband and the lives of his Kind. I know he returned to his nest. Betray me and they will be erased from existence—not only those on Alderaan but everywhere. Your disloyalty would trigger an extinction level event."

"I thought Sith hated waste. Why destroy them, if you could enlist them to help you instead?"

Before he could answer, the com interrupted. "Lord Jadus, your presence is required on the bridge," Admiral Ethos announced.

Jadus lingered at the com, still and silent. Ilia watched his mannerisms intently for any revelation.

"Hold position."

"Acknowledged, my Lord. Holding position," Ethos replied.

"I suppose you'll have to take me to the brig now."

"That won't be necessary." He maneuvered her into the interrogation chair angled in the corner and restrained her. Saying nothing further, he left her alone in his quarters.

She studied the room and considered the various doors and what was behind them. The access pad on room across from her blinked red.

Why would he lock a door in his own quarters?

Unable to wiggle free from her restraints she considered her options.

I need to warn Vector…somehow.

After her search for an advantage came up empty, she sank back into the chair. Just as she closed her eyes a small voice whispered in her mind and her attention shot to the locked room.

"Help me…"

Ilia struggled against her cuffs, growling when she failed to loosen them.


Theron watched the Invidia from a safe distance in his vessel. An incoming com flashed over the encrypted channel.

"What's going on up there?" Jonas's voice crackled over the line.

"Well, two bodies shot out of the airlock about twenty minutes ago. Looked like our hunters. Guess I owe you that bottle, huh."

"Things are shaping up. So far so good. Get back here quick, I'm thirsty."

"You're always thirsty. I thought you cut back."

"I did, but I wanna celebrate."

"Yeah, me too, buddy. Hey…something's happening. Oh, Kark! They're powering up weapons! GET OUT! GET THE HELL OUT NOW!"

"Stay on him!" Balkar shouted and cut out.

((to be continued…))