A/N: This fic starts in Chapter 1/2 of the Sith Inquisitor class story, and ends somewhere before Forged Alliances/Shadow of Revan.
It was in Kaas City that they'd first met – at an insufferable little soiree hosted by some equally insufferable Sith Lord. Vestra couldn't remember who it was, only that they were some toady of Darth Zash. Her master had requested that she attend, as a 'little reward' after returning from Nar Shaddaa with the second artifact in hand. Of course, it couldn't be as simple as that, but an apprentice could hardly disobey her master.
Vestra lingered on the edges for most of the event, at Zash's instruction. 'Now, we don't want to give the others a chance to lean on you tonight. So don't be too conspicuous.' Zash had said, fussing over her black-and-maroon robes, cinched at the waist by a leather belt with gold inlays. 'Oh, but it's such a shame, you look lovely tonight.'
She'd given a sickeningly sweet smile then, which Vestra mirrored perfectly, earning a pat on the cheek before she entered the manor on Zash's heels.
It was an easy task, remaining inconspicuous in a hall filled with inflated egos. She occupied herself with drink, calculating the speed of consumption she'd need to stay awake through this dreary affair, then fall nicely into bed at the end. With a glass to her lips, she kept a discrete eye on Zash – noting how her master would gesture in her direction occasionally, despite not wanting to draw attention to her. In silent defiance, Vestra had met every calculative, malicious gaze, then broken away with affected disinterest. One after another, until she found one that held her in place.
Gold – in a sea of insignificant, yellow counterparts. Vestra was drawn to it, over and over, against better sense. The slow milling of the crowd brought that gaze closer, and closer, until a certain stillness fell over the corner where she stood. Golden Eyes had a name – Lana. A Sith, here on behalf of her master. She was quiet, clinical in the way she spoke; the eye in a storm of competing powers and political plots. They'd conversed little, giving nothing away of their work or interests, but that wasn't the point anyway.
Swirling the glass in her hand, Vestra had offered a throwaway compliment on her lipstick. It earned her the faintest quirk of a smile, before Lana followed the ever-turning motion of the room, and moved away. Tearing her gaze from the woman's back, Vestra downed the rest of her wine in one go, savouring its mellow burn over a heart come to life for the first time that night.
Their eyes had found each other throughout the whole, dreary affair. Vestra preened under the attention, a subtle smirk on her own painted lips, laying bait to lure her quarry back.
She couldn't remember much of that night. Only a pair of golden eyes burning in the dark, where she turned into willing prey under hot lips and firm hands.
And when Vestra roused the next morning, to dull aches and pleasant stings, the other was long gone.
Golden Eyes became a forgotten memory, buried under betrayal, anger, and intrigue. Vestra had no cause to think about her until they met again, by chance, on the icy hellhole of a planet called Hoth.
Beniko – the last name she hadn't caught during the soiree. In fact, it was Lord Beniko now, though Lana had waved it away dismissively. Her gaze turned thoughtful when Vestra introduced herself as Lord Lenshe – forgoing 'Kallig' and its burden of legacy.
"Those eyes suit you well," Lana said then, the subtle recognition bringing a delighted glint to brown irises turned yellow. Perhaps she had picked up on Vestra's vanity, or meant it as mere observation. No matter – it made Vestra more pliant to her request for aid.
Lana was stationed here to safeguard the Empire's interests. First, it had meant peacekeeping in the wake of the Treaty, but that job fell apart as hostilities crawled ever slowly to boiling point. Her days were now spent watching for Republic encroachment on Imperial territory, but a new mission from her master had turned her focus to retrieval – of a Sith holocron thought lost, rumoured to have been found by scavengers. She was doubtful, but duty-bound to perform a search regardless.
Unfortunately, Imperial forces were stretched too thin to provide sufficient support. And, she preferred the aid of a Sith – among the rumours, was word that the Jedi knew of it as well.
Vestra cocked her head, and agreed after a promise of compensation.
Swathed in thick robes and thermal undersuits, the Sith Lords forged through the snow together, with Andronikos and Ashara following behind, similarly bundled but looking distinctly more miserable in the falling snow. Khem Val stomped steadily behind them, last of the lot, still dressed only in his loincloth; whether unbothered by the cold or simply stubborn enough not to admit weakness, Vestra didn't bother to pry.
"You never said," Lana spoke, attracting her gaze. "What you are doing here, on Hoth."
Vestra regarded her quietly through tinted goggles. "Chasing a ghost."
"Figuratively?"
"No."
A moment of thoughtful silence. "What for?"
Vestra smiled, enigmatic. "For victory."
To her credit, Lana didn't pry further than that. They fell into silence, focusing instead on putting one foot in front of the other, until they found a trail of bootprints that led to a cave mouth. Vestra could feel three other Force users within – stable signatures of Jedi who had come into their own, but they couldn't compare to herself or Lana.
She earned a passing glance from the other Sith while ordering Ashara to stand guard at the cave mouth. Ashara's lightsabers would've evened the field, but Vestra knew her heart would falter in the face of fellow Jedi. Her apprentice nodded and turned her back to them, resolute, as they shed their thicker cloaks to allow freedom of movement.
Vestra's body warmed as they ventured deeper into the cave, and her frozen veins burnt to life when they set sights upon their quarry. The Jedi had no doubt been aware of their presence since they entered the cave – two armoured Knights and a Consular stood in the middle of a chamber piled high with abandoned salvage, reinforced by a line of Republic troopers behind them.
"Leave," said one Knight, lightsaber burning blue. "Or we will have to escort you out."
Vestra chuckled, a low note in her throat. Lana stepped forth, a beam of dark orange extending from her saber hilt.
"What is here, belongs to the Empire."
"That is where we disagree."
"I'm afraid we will brook no disagreements."
"Then you leave us with no choice."
Amid the rustle of rifles being raised, Vestra shared a glance with Lana. She smirked.
"Khem!"
With a roar, the Dashade leapt high into the air, earning a panicked spray of blaster fire that missed him entirely. He landed amid the Jedi, shaking the ground they stood upon, and scattered them with a mighty swing of his blade. Vestra flung a crackling lance of lightning at the troopers, taking out half while the rest threw themselves out of range.
The battle began in earnest, and ended as quickly. Amid the hail of blaster shots and powerful gusts of Force blasts, Vestra sank her red saber through a Knight's chest, thrusting her free hand out to shock the other Knight mid-lunge. His gritted teeth parted in an airless gasp when his throat was gripped, then snapped in thin air. While Lana let his body crumple to the floor, Vestra glanced at the robed figure lying at her feet – a clean cut to the throat, no other wounds.
Hm.
Battle won, Lana initiated a search through dusty salvage remains, but all hands turned up empty.
"What a waste," Lana uttered under her breath, and Vestra noted her brief glance at the bodies.
"Of time, I agree."
Lana looked at her, face placid, and nodded. "We should have moved on more than just rumours. Regardless, you have my thanks."
"And your credits?"
"The Empire's credits," Lana said with a dry smile.
Vestra shrugged, nonchalant. "Whatever pays for my next massage."
They parted ways after, Vestra going off to find her ghost. The search took weeks – delayed by her involvement in the Imperial campaign on Hoth – but ended with Horak-mul bound willingly to her service. Flush with success, but weary from exertion and the cold, Vestra had led her crew from the graveyard of starships, to a remote outpost for recovery.
It was there, that she found those golden eyes once again.
Where there was calm, however, agitation now simmered beneath the surface. It was ever-so-subtle, undetectable from her perfect poise, but hinted by the explanation for her presence. Lana had been assigned to this outpost after their retrieval mission, to occupy a post vacated by a Sith Lord killed in action. Her new, temporary role was restrictive, and Vestra could feel the hum of the Force within her, coiled energy caged against its will.
Lana bore it well. Very well, in fact – and Vestra couldn't help but poke at her composure. Datapad in hand, she coaxed interest from her fellow Sith with word of a bounty on a mercenary gang in the Glacial Fissure, whose sights were set upon an Imperial outpost in the vicinity. Golden eyes rested upon her for the longest time, trying to decipher an intent hidden behind the curve of her smirk.
"It'll be fun," Vestra crooned, sing-song, which drew a tinge of amusement into that piercing gaze.
She received her answer in a small smile.
The mercenaries – 'Brig Stompers' – had numbers, armour, and heavy weapons on their side. Too bad it did little to level the playing field for them.
Vestra glanced back at her group – crouched low in the snow, behind an ice ridge hiding them from view.
"Khem and Ashara, take point. Andronikos and Talos, cover us from the back. Me, I shall be the star of the show as usual." She grinned, unapologetic, when Ashara coughed into her fist, and Andronikos cleared his throat. "And Lana...do whatever makes you happy."
Lana cocked a brow, but nodded.
"Alright…" Vestra poked her head around the corner of the ridge. "Now."
Khem leapt first into battle as always, accompanied by a blinding flash of twin blue blades rending through armour and weapons before they could fire. Blaster shots rung out behind her, while Vestra propelled herself into the battlefield with the Force. Lightsaber hilt still holstered, she clenched both fists, the anticipation of ozone teasing her nostrils. The squad she'd targeted raised their rifles in her direction, and she threw her weight down, sliding through the snow on her knees as lasers sliced the air above her. Before they realised their mistake, lightning arced through the air, cooking flesh inside scorched armour.
A laugh left her throat, even as her eyes fell upon more alarmed mercenaries turning their sights towards her. Reaching through the veil of the Force, Vestra tore through the space above them, losing a localised thunderstorm upon their heads. She didn't wait to see them fall this time – Vestra kept in constant motion through the snow, raining lightning over one squad, and another, and another, drawing ever more fire as the mercenaries came to a consensus that she was the biggest threat on the field.
That was, until a flurry of orange tore through an unsuspecting group, felling them before even a gasp left their mouths. As blaster fire faltered and split into different directions again, Vestra snuck a peek at her fellow Sith Lord as lightning scorched ice around her. Lana flew across the snow, graceful as a bird-of-prey diving through the air, her blade humming in a neverending dance around herself – at once a barrier that no blaster fire could penetrate, and a weapon that sliced mercilessly through any who dared stand in its path.
Captive, Vestra dared watch her amid the chaos of battle – this embodiment of deadly poetry, unstoppable in her force of will. None could touch her, even as she left indelible marks of her passing, bodies strewn in bloodied snow, all found wanting in the wake of perfection.
Glancing away to rid persistent foes from Ashara's flank with a brutal Force blast, Vestra turned back to Lana – and found her dodging a trail of blaster cannon fire. Gathering a vortex of energy around one hand, Vestra prepared to stun the hulk of a mercenary hounding Lana with his blaster – but her aid was unneeded.
Flipping through the air, Lana brought her blade through the blaster cannon, shearing it in two. Ducking to avoid having one half of the ruined weapon ram into her head, she delivered a deep slash across the mercenary's stomach, incapacitating him long enough for her to separate his head from his body.
Lana took a moment then, as the mercenary toppled to the ground. Her shoulders heaved slowly in deep breaths, her blonde hair streaming in the chill winds buffeting the field. She lifted her head, and golden eyes flared as they met Vestra's awe-stricken gaze, burning through the space between them.
Such a magnificent, lethal creature, Vestra had never seen.
Lana found her again, in the dark; frigid fingers seared their claim upon warm skin. Shivering from desire and the scrape of nails over her flesh, Vestra yielded – her own dominance overwhelmed by the press of Lana's bare, muscled body against hers, the grip on her wrists, the low chuckle in her ear when Lana found her heat.
Only when she'd moaned her pleasure into Lana's mouth, body taut and trembling, did Lana release her. Vestra rolled them over, and bit the smug, crooked grin from Lana's lips. Fingers threaded through her hair as she moved down Lana's body, teeth leaving darker marks on pale flesh each time Lana tugged hard in chastisement. Unrepentant, she smirked between Lana's thighs, drinking in her intoxicating taste, until golden eyes disappeared beneath lids slamming shut, fingers fisting in the sheets as a moan left those lovely lips.
When Vestra roused, it occurred to her that this wasn't her quarters. She turned her head to find its owner lying beside her, curled up beneath the covers in slumber. Vestra should...probably leave, like Lana had the courtesy to do before. But the chill in the air was still biting despite the outpost's heating system, and the hard cot felt like heaven under her back after the night's...activity.
She lay on her side, gazing drowsily at Lana, half-wishing she could see those eyes, one more time. Unthinking, she reached out and brushed her fingertips along Lana's bare forearm, feeling the goosebumps on her skin – and froze when her wrist was caught in an iron grip.
"Relax," Vestra uttered, voice still rough. "Before you break my wrist."
Lana's eyes cracked open, that golden hue glowing mutely in the dark. Vestra held her stare, unblinking, before Lana lowered her wrist to the bed...but didn't let go.
"How are you so warm," Lana mumbled.
"A secret," Vestra replied. "Earned from the White Maw."
"Mm. Well-earned." Lana didn't move when Vestra broke free of her grip, and laid a hand on her arm. Her eyes fell shut as Vestra glided slowly up the length of her arm, unabashedly feeling the curves of her bicep, moving onto her shoulder, down her side, past her hip.
Vestra squeezed her thigh, and she heard Lana take a breath.
"Shall I teach you the trick?"
"Tomorrow," came the sleepy murmur. "You may collect your due tonight."
With a low purr, Vestra leaned over and buried her face in Lana's neck, slipping a leg between her companion's. She pushed Lana gently onto her back, and felt a smile against her lips as she rocked their hips together.
Lana saw them off at the shuttle bay a few days later, dressed lighter in her dark green robes and cloak, having learnt well the White Maw's technique of retaining body heat. Vestra stopped to speak with her while the crew lugged their packs and supplies onto a shuttle. An innocent question brought Lana into a moment of…'hesitance', Vestra would've thought, but knew better. More likely that Lana's analytical mind was dissecting and reading too much into a simple request.
When Lana had keyed her holomail address into Vestra's datapad, she was treated to a smile.
"Don't worry," Vestra said airily, firing off a test message to the address. It went through. "I won't contact you for business. Don't want to put more strain on that pretty little face of yours."
Lana raised a brow, but said nothing.
"Well then. See you around, Lord Beniko." She turned around with a lopsided grin, hearing an exasperated huff behind her.
"You're insufferable, Lord Lenshe."
Her new contact quickly became forgotten after a disastrous display of power in Kaas, that sundered both mind and body. Fear wound tight with her fury, a potent mix underpinned by the desperate will to live. Nothing else could occupy her attention as she cut a bloody path through Belsavis, and found an ancient Rakata device to mend her ailing body. Then, with malicious whispers in her ears, she went to Voss for a ritual to heal her fractured mind, silencing the ghosts who sought to tear her sanity apart.
Whole once more, she set back on the path to crush the very Sith Lord who had started her ravenous search for power. With a fleet won to her side and a loyal crew at her back, she flew to Corellia to answer an undeniable challenge.
[From: Lana Beniko]
[Subject: Kaggath]
[Word has spread of your Kaggath with Darth Thanaton. Quite a far cry from chasing ghosts on a frozen planet.
Do be careful. A Kaggath will either make you, or ruin you completely, irreversibly. Try not to become a ghost yourself.]
[From: Lana Beniko]
[Subject: Congratulations]
[As the title says – congratulations. You have come a long way since we first met. To say that your rise is meteoric might be an understatement.
As before, be careful. You are one of the youngest – perhaps the youngest – Sith to sit among the Dark Council in recorded history. A more tempting target you couldn't be. Tread lightly.
That said, judging by your deeds on Corellia, I am sure you can handle yourself.]
[From: Vestra Lenshe]
[Subject: Re: Congratulations]
[My apologies for the silence – your message on the Kaggath arrived at a...hectic time on Corellia, to say the least. I must've overlooked it. But thank you for your concern and advice.
I am currently in Kaas City, and will most likely remain longer while I acclimatise to my new role and clean up the mess Thanaton left behind. You wouldn't believe how much he'd neglected in favour of accosting a promising young Sith Lord.
Since I'll be here a while… May I offer you an exclusive invitation to dinner in the city with the Council's newest, most devastatingly beautiful Darth? No strings attached – you have my word.]
[From: Lana Beniko]
[Subject: Re: Congratulations]
[You may, and I graciously accept.
I am expecting a summons to Dromund Kaas within the next month. I'll be in touch when I have details.]
She was lounging in her seat, two fingers curled around the stem of her wine glass, eyes shut in casual meditation when a bell's gentle chime broke the silence. Vestra turned her head as the door slid open, and rose smoothly to her feet when her eyes met that familiar golden hue.
Lana Beniko looked quite the same as she had on Hoth, with that distinct black lining her eyes, and a darker shade of red on her lips. Her high-collared, emerald silk blouse and black pants gave nothing away of her Sith identity – her eyes took care of that well enough – and Vestra couldn't help but smile at how much her civilian outfit echoed her robes.
"I am glad to see you again," Vestra said when the door slid shut, and earned a faint, appraising quirk of the brow when she took Lana's hand, placing a brief kiss on her knuckles.
"And I, you. After all those rumours about you, I'd half-expected to hear that you were…"
"Dead?"
"Dead," Lana confirmed. "But it is good to see you well."
She looked Vestra over, not bothering to hide the fact that she was taking her time. Vestra let her; after all, the elegant dress did hug her svelte form in all the right places, and she'd favoured it for the long slit up one thigh for a reason.
"You look...stunning tonight."
Vestra chuckled softly, leading Lana to the table. "You could afford to hide the hesitation a little better."
"I was merely looking for the right word." Lana gave her a wry glance, before settling in the chair pulled out for her.
While Vestra filled her wine glass, Lana's eyes roved over the room – a familiar motion from their time in Hoth, whenever they reached a new locale. Observe, analyse; Vestra had to bite down a smile.
They were in a private room reserved by Vestra, in an obscenely lavish restaurant at the tip of a tower, with paneled windows that offered a view of the lights shining within the dark expanse of Kaas City. The room's walls were made of genuine wood, the floor was covered by a plush carpet one could fall asleep on, and a crystal chandelier adorned the ceiling. If Lana was impressed with the place, it didn't show. In fact, when Vestra looked up, Lana's gaze was on her instead.
At the questioning tilt of her head, Lana asked, "Do they know they have a Dark Lord in this room?"
A quiet laugh. "I didn't reserve this room as Darth Avriss."
"I would venture to say that, at this point in time, Vestra Lenshe may be a more well-known name than Darth Avriss."
Vestra smiled. "It is. But not everyone makes the connection between those two. If you're worried about attention, don't be."
"I was thinking of security. I didn't see any guards posted outside."
"Don't worry. I'll keep you safe."
Lana's eyes twitched towards the ceiling, and Vestra let her lips part into a grin.
"I hope you don't mind, Lord Beniko," Vestra drawled, earning a slight twitch in Lana's mouth. "I had a look at your dossier, and came across your treatise – the one about the parallels between Sith and Jedi?"
"On the battlefield, yes. That piece has garnered more attention than I'd expected." Her eyes flickered to the door when it slid open again, to admit a human server with a tray of appetizers.
"I'm not surprised. What you proposed can be...contentious among our traditionalist peers."
"It is. And you wouldn't believe how petty some of them can be."
"Oh, trust me, I can believe it." Vestra smiled, then waved the server away when the dishes were set. "Now, I've had cause to re-examine both the Sith and Jedi code myself, and I have reached some conclusions that are similar to the points you have argued. May I ask a few questions about your work?"
Lana tilted her head, and leaned forward. Her gaze, careful up to this point, had come alight with a gleam. "Please, do."
And she'd found a hook. With proper prodding and the right questions, one could lure Lana into a deep, lengthy discussion of her scholarly interests. Her guard lowered slightly as genuine passion started to shine through, then even more when treated to a blatantly inaccurate criticism of her work. Her eyes seemed to blaze amid a furious rebuttal, before she caught herself, gaze turning sharp when it fell upon a barely-hidden smirk.
"That was deliberate."
Vestra shrugged, lifting her glass casually for a sip as Lana rested her head on her fingertips, eyes falling briefly shut.
"You're infuriating," she huffed.
"Oh, first I was stunning, and now I'm infuriating? Which is it, Lana?"
"Both." Lana's smile was wry. "And you're behaving...oddly."
"Hm?"
"You've not spoken one word about yourself tonight."
"Perhaps you interest me more."
"More than your recent appointment to the Dark Council?"
Swirling the glass in her hand, Vestra drank the last finger of wine, eyes still connected with Lana's over the rim. Her companion had spoken the truth, even if she didn't believe it – Vestra had arranged this appointment as an escape from Council duties. Its associated plots and ploys plagued her every waking moment now. Add to that the dozens of concurrent operations she oversaw in the Pyramid, and she could just barely tread water enough to keep afloat.
So, obviously, the Council's newest Dark Lord wanted not to think of her station. Just for a while. But she saw a hint of curiosity in Lana's gaze, almost penetrating, and shifted her armour to hide a potential weak spot.
Vestra set her glass down with an airy sigh, picking up the bottle of wine. "Oh, very well. You have my leave to fish for gossip about the Council."
"I'm not quite interested in the whole Council at the moment."
"Just the one lord, then?"
"Just the one."
"Why, Lana." Vestra laughed, low and dry, as she filled their glasses. "Are you looking to stroke my ego?"
"I do not stroke egos, my lord."
"And I tease, of course. Please, speak your mind."
"I saw the broadcast of your duel with Darth Thanaton on Corellia. Quite an impressive display."
"It was. And how exhilarating, to feel all that power coursing through my veins as I fed him his empty words, one by one. But you should've seen me in the Council chambers. Oh," she sang, the memory still sweet as honey. "The way I made him kneel before me, an old fossil making way for the new… It was glorious."
"I'm sure. Was this the 'victory' you'd spoken of on Hoth?"
"You remembered. Yes."
"It's a victory long in the making, then. Well-played."
Vestra laughed, dry. "It...was not that simple, but thank you." She cocked a brow. "And I thought you didn't stroke egos?"
"I don't. I merely nudged, and you did the rest."
"Devious little thing," Vestra crooned, tracing one painted nail on her glass. "Play my strings any better, and I'll have to silence you."
"I doubt it." Lana's smile turned crooked at the pointed arch of her brow. "But I see you're settling in well with your new role. You must be enjoying yourself."
"You would think," Vestra scoffed, leaning back in her seat. "I used to fly all over the galaxy, get into all sorts of trouble. Now I'm stuck in an office for most of my days, blinding my eyes with a hundred screens, and watching sycophants crawl up to my feet with poisoned tongues behind their smiles. It's sickening."
She brushed an invisible speck of dust from the pristine white tablecloth, with just a tad more force than intended, then caught herself. She glanced at Lana, whose expression was inscrutable. Then, it softened with a careful smile.
"So it would be safe to assume you didn't bring me here to do that?"
Vestra snorted. "No. I…" She regarded Lana in silence, then gave in with a sigh. "I thought I might better remember who I am, with you around."
Lana cocked her head. "And who are you, exactly?"
Vestra met her eyes, but quickly broke contact. Turning her gaze to the windows, she traced her fingertips over the tablecloth in random patterns.
Darth Avriss. Lord Kallig. Dark Lord of the Sith. Titles that had been pounded into her skull since ascending to her seat among the twelve. Most would see it as the epitome of power in the Empire. But when she closed her eyes, she could sometimes feel the phantom scrape of shackles on her wrists again. Gilded, yes, but…
Her fingers closed slowly into a fist, then relaxed.
"A free woman," she murmured, ignoring the feel of Lana's eyes on her.
A moment passed in silence, then Lana asked, "Is it working, then? Having me around?"
She smiled, wan. "Would you be terribly offended if I said no?"
"Of course not. It is too simple a solution for such a...personal pursuit," Lana said, drawing her gaze. "To be free – truly free, is a lofty ideal achieved by few. If at all."
A stark truth, sharp as a knife to her chest; she tensed on instinct, expecting the twist to follow. But it didn't come. Vestra stared into golden eyes and, for the briefest moment, wished she could drown in them.
Slowly, she reached out, surprised when she was allowed to clasp Lana's chin. Her companion's watchful expression didn't waver, as deft fingertips slid gently along her skin in indulgent caress, then guided her close.
"All the more we should try, no?" Vestra whispered.
Lana hummed a note of assent, as they met in a kiss. There was a certain familiarity in the way their lips moulded together.
Vestra didn't dare admit it then – not even to herself – but she found it just a little harder to breathe when they parted.
Lana slipped away again in the dark hours of the early morning. Vestra was roused by the activity – subtle though it was – and didn't try to stop her, drifting back to sleep while Lana dressed and left the den of luxury that was Darth Avriss' penthouse.
When she woke the next morning, well-rested for the first time in weeks, the room was bathed in a warm glow filtered through tinted windows. Drawing the covers up to her shoulders, Vestra turned onto her side, and paused. The space beside her was empty, but there was a small, flat metal case set by the pillow. A folded note rested on top of it – which Vestra took, and found that it was a letter written in smooth, crisp script.
'Truth is, I had a look at your dossier as well – whatever I could find that wasn't redacted, anyway.
You have great interest in ancient relics, naturally. I thought this would be of interest to you. One of our teams came across an artifact shard – Rakata, verified by a Reclamation contact. If you'd like to find the rest, tell me, and I'll send all the information we have to you.
Nearly forgot I had this in my purse. It seems I am not immune to the wiles of a devastatingly beautiful Darth.
- L '
A sleepy smile spread across her face as she set the note down, but left the box untouched. Instead, her hand slid to a spot beside the box, feeling the chill in the sheets from the cooling unit. She would find humour in it later, and tease Lana via holomail for making a transaction in every rendezvous, as if she were paid company.
But, in that moment, she felt a foreign, hollow echo in her chest. With a sigh, she grasped the covers and pulled them tighter around herself, dozing off without further thought.
It wasn't business – not exactly. More of a mutual exchange that fed their personal pursuits. Lana would send locations of uncovered ruins, rumours of 'mystical' power, and on a rare occasion, even physical pieces of artifacts to be traced to their origin. In return, Vestra would relay information to aid Lana in her academic pursuits – secrets of the Force whispered by spectres, teachings half-worn from the surface of clay tablets. Once, it was a holocron with its knowledge fully transcribed for safekeeping within the Pyramid, now 'on loan' to a Sith Lord for her unique interpretation to aid their research.
Vestra never asked for anything in return; it was an honest connection she was loath to taint and twist into another political power play. Her crew was the only handful she'd successfully kept out of that toxic mire, and it would be...enlightening to see if this would last.
But it seemed her station would work against her anyway.
[From: Lana Beniko]
[Subject: Re: Jedi writings]
[Thank you for your last message. The writings you found were indeed illuminating, and your apprentice's interpretation of them is very intriguing. I'm glad she has agreed to liaise with me – I'll be in touch with her very soon.
You have been generous with your gifts, and I am grateful. Though I do not doubt your sincerity, it doesn't escape me that your gifts are valuable. I can't help but wonder – what will be the price for them?]
[From: Vestra Lenshe]
[Subject: Re: Jedi writings]
[The price of the next meal we share, I suppose.]
Between Vestra's Council duties and Lana's assignments, it proved difficult to meet. But luck deigned to shine upon them once in a while, their paths crossing in some remote Imperial spacedock, or a predetermined location when a mutual need for respite eclipsed the responsibility upon their shoulders.
They were simple, comfortable trysts with a partner they knew well. Trust was still a tentative luxury, one they built upon each time skin met skin, peeling away inhibitions to delve, just a little more, into the person hidden beneath layers of cynicism and self-preservation.
It was easy, always so easy to be with Lana. No expectations to meet, no snares to beware. And that, perhaps, made it equally easy for Lana to leave first. Every time.
One night, in the darkness of her penthouse in Kaas, Vestra watched the silhouette of Lana sitting up in bed. She reached out, caught Lana by the arm. Felt the muscle beneath her fingers tense.
"Stay."
Lana's head turned, not quite enough to reveal her face. After a pause, she said slowly, "I shouldn't impose."
"You wouldn't be."
Lana remained quiet, but didn't move. Vestra pushed herself up with a languid sigh, and leaned against Lana's back, fingertips ghosting up her companion's arm. She lowered her head to place a kiss on Lana's shoulder, trailing up to the curve of her neck, her jaw. Vestra slowed to a stop by her ear, lips brushing against ruffled blonde hair.
"I make a mean breakfast," she crooned sweetly.
That earned her a laugh – beautiful as chimes, breaking the subdued silence in the bedroom. "You, cook?"
"Don't sound so incredulous. You'll break my heart."
"I wouldn't dare."
Her pulse quickened, but Vestra ignored it. "It'll be good. My crew praises it to the stars."
Lana's head turned, and she caught a glimpse of gold in the dark. "Really."
Vestra hummed, affirmative. "And I promise to poison it only a little."
Another laugh, and Lana shifted on the bed to face her. "You just want another tumble in bed, don't you?"
That couldn't be further from the truth, one she couldn't bear to think on then. So she smirked and, with a purr, caught Lana in a kiss. Fingers threaded through her hair, as she pushed Lana down to the bed once more.
"Maybe you're just that addictive, Beniko."
Vestra watched as Lana took a bite of fluffy omelette, expression never changing as she chewed. Then she met Vestra's eyes, and raised a brow.
"I would like to concur with your crew."
"I told you," Vestra sang, taking a sip of juice from her glass.
"This could be served in a restaurant," Lana said, a note of disbelief in her voice, as she speared a piece of roasted tomato on her fork. "Where did you learn to cook this well?"
The smile on her face never wavered, though her throat grew tight. It was in the kitchens of a mansion belonging to a mining magnate – the cook had a soft spot for the scrawny girl who often nipped in on an errand, and scurried away before earning a lash for taking too long. He would let her hide in a shadowed nook by the ovens when their owners' tempers flared high, and during lulls between meal services, he'd let her watch as he made a small snack to ease her aching stomach.
But the cook was long dead, whipped to death and left to rot under the sun as an example to his wretched brethren. And the girl, as far as Vestra was concerned, was dead as well.
Setting her glass on the table, she shrugged. "Just picked up some tricks from the holonet. A little practice doesn't hurt either."
"I see."
Vestra dug into her own meal, folding some sliced avocado into the egg. As she munched, she felt eyes on herself. When she met Lana's gaze, her companion didn't bother looking away.
"Stare any longer, and I might start charging by the minute."
Lana's head tilted to one side, as she eyed Vestra in mild amusement. "You look so much younger like this."
"It's my curse," Vestra groaned, raising a hand in a futile effort to hide her bare face. "Why do you think I put in all that effort on my face every day?"
Lana smiled, but didn't answer. Her gaze remained on Vestra, who started to feel antsy under the attention.
"My lord, please pardon the interruption."
Relief loosening the knot in her stomach, Vestra glanced at the butler droid who'd approached the dining table. "What is it?"
"An incoming transmission from Lieutenant Drellik." It raised the holocom in its hand.
"Set it here." She nodded at the table, and the droid set her holocom down, angling the camera lens towards her. It tapped a button, and the projection of Talos blinked to life over the device.
"Good morning, my lord! Having a late breakfast, I see. Did you sleep well?"
Vestra shrugged, eyes flickering to Lana. "More or less."
"Excellent! Now, I have some good news. We've been granted access to the Reclamation's restricted archives, with some help from your name, of course." Talos bowed his head conspiratorially. "Ashara and I will be there this morning to gather the information we need, then head over to your library in the afternoon."
"Good. I'll see you in the library, then."
Talos bowed, about to end the comm, when the sound of a door sliding open piped through the speaker.
"That's Vestra?" Ashara asked needlessly.
"Yes?"
"Tell her, I was in the market yesterday and found an exact copy of that 'cursed relic' she keeps in the armoury. In fact, there was a whole bunch of the same relic at the store. Oh, by the way? It's not a relic at all. Just engraved Jurgoran bones!"
"Um, my lord. Ashara says–"
"I heard. You sound angry, my dear."
"You're an asshole! I didn't dare look at that corner of the armoury for weeks!"
"Well, I believe we've all learnt a thing or two about being gullible."
"Ugh! I'm gonna swap your shampoo with hair dye."
"How terrifying."
"I know when your next Council meeting is."
An affected gasp. "You wouldn't dare."
Ashara finally poked her head into the projection. She puffed her cheeks up, and blew a mighty raspberry before disappearing again.
"Ah, well. That's that." Talos laughed. "We'll see you in the afternoon, my lord."
He bowed, and the projection disappeared, prompting the butler droid to take the holocom away.
Vestra allowed herself a chuckle, and took another sip of juice.
"They're close to you."
"I suppose so." Vestra lowered her glass with a sigh. "You won't hold that against me, will you?"
"No. It's just...different, from how our peers operate. Your team has camaraderie."
She shrugged. "I suppose it's only natural, after what we've been through together."
"I'm sure."
"What about you? Do you have a team of your own?"
"No. I work with many, and never for long."
"Hm. Well, if you ever want a dedicated team of your own, I could pull some strings." Vestra shot her a crooked smile. "Or you could join mine."
"I appreciate the offer," Lana replied smoothly. "But I much prefer my current arrangement for now."
"Of course."
Vestra saw her off at the spaceport at noon, earning a side glance from Lana when she escorted her companion all the way to the private ship chartered for her use. When they reached the alcove of the entrance, Lana turned to face her, and Vestra's farewell remained stuck on her tongue when she received a peck on the cheek.
Surprised, Vestra stared at Lana, unconsciously reaching up to touch the spot on her cheek.
"Thank you. For breakfast."
"Just breakfast?" Vestra said slowly, as her mind caught up. She lowered her hand, regaining composure. "I could've sworn we did much more than that." She smirked when Lana rolled her eyes. "If you ever want to do it again...you know how to find me."
"Of course."
Vestra smiled, then found herself lingering before Lana, uncertain. Of what, she was not exactly sure.
"May the Force be with you."
"May it serve you well."
Bowing her head, Vestra made her leave, walking smoothly down the ramp and away from the ship. She could feel eyes on her back – and she was tempted, for the first time, to look around.
Just tempted.
Lana started staying the night more often, no matter the location of their rendezvous. They still spoke little after warming the sheets together, perhaps wary of revealing too much, or just unsure how to traverse that invisible distance between them. Vestra did, however, notice Lana curling up much closer to her than before, no longer tense when Vestra's hand roamed over her in idle exploration. And Lana didn't seem to mind when she woke with Vestra's arm draped lazily over her waist, face buried in messy blonde locks.
It did make the morning's parting that much harder, but Vestra couldn't find it in herself to stop.
When news reached her that Lana Beniko had been appointed advisor to Darth Arkous – newly-ascended to the Dark Council – Vestra felt a lick of irritation. It was something she should have thought of first, done first. It felt as if she'd lost something she'd never even had, and she hated it. Darth Avriss never lost something she wanted.
After licking her wounded pride – which should never have been wounded in the first place – Vestra reasserted herself. Setting aside Avriss' ever-seeking grasp, she refocused on the distance between them, the safety it provided, and returned to equilibrium. Besides, it wasn't all bad; though Arkous, like his fellow Council members, had to travel constantly, his sphere of influence coincided with Vestra's often – especially in the wake of the war. Darth Avriss started working more closely with Darth Arkous on the battlefield, and wherever Arkous was, Lana was not far behind.
Her appointment was a blessing in disguise, it turned out.
It was in one shared campaign that Vestra had suffered a grievous injury – a heavy hunk of durasteel, torn from a crashed ship by a Jedi Master, and flung right into her chest. She'd felt a sickening crunch under the impact, and laid pinned beneath durasteel with blood flooding her mouth, light turning to mere pinpricks in her vision. While Khem Val and Xalek delivered retribution unto the Jedi, Ashara had lifted the durasteel with the Force, allowing Talos and Andronikos to drag her body to safety.
They'd carried her back to camp, Ashara keeping her agonisingly conscious through the will of the Force, until Lana had found them, and wove a potent bout of healing that mended broken bones and ruptured organs. Lana's face was the last thing Vestra saw, a tight grip on her hand the last thing she felt, before she fell unconscious.
When she woke the next day, she discovered that Lana had healed most of her wounds. Despite her chest feeling sore, she could move well enough, but the head medic had pleaded for her to remain in bed for one more day. She'd risen to her feet regardless, only to be bullied back into bed by her crew, scowling as Ashara drew the covers up to her chest.
Recognising defeat, she bided her time with rest, until night had fallen. While Talos dozed in a chair at the foot of the bed, Vestra stole his jacket and snuck out of the tent, into the night's cover. Draping the jacket over her shoulders, she followed the forest stretching beyond the camp, padding along silently with a hand on her ribs. It took only a few minutes, but Vestra's breaths had grown heavy by the time she reached the shore, where the forest ended abruptly before the inky expanse of the sea.
Heaving a sigh of relief, Vestra plopped herself down at the base of a tree. And it was there, nestled between exposed roots and gazing up at the star-dotted sky, that Lana found her later.
"Oh no," Vestra drawled, when Lana peered down at her, with a hand on her hip. "Is the alarm raised back there?"
"Yes, but I put it to rest. I told your crew you'd gone for a walk. You will return to quite the reckoning, though."
"Whatever."
Lana's mouth quirked. "May I join you?"
Vestra nodded, and Lana settled quietly beside her. She turned her head, looking her companion over.
"I haven't thanked you. If you hadn't found me, I might've died back then."
Lana waved dismissively. "I merely did what was necessary."
"Just fulfilling your duty, hm?"
"Do you have a complaint?"
Vestra held her gaze, then let a wry smile curve her lips. "I'm not in a position to have one, so...no."
"Good," Lana said, and the self-satisfaction in her voice nearly made Vestra laugh aloud.
They lapsed into companionable silence, gazing out at the sea as waves lapped at the shore.
"I hope you don't mind my saying so," Lana spoke. "You seem…worse for wear."
"Oh, Lana," Vestra sighed airily. "You're going to break my heart."
"I am merely expressing concern, that is all."
Vestra glanced at her, though her face was unreadable, half-cloaked in shadow. "The war has taken a toll on us. I am no exception. Neither are you."
"Indeed." Lana took a breath, and released it slowly through her mouth. "It has been trying. I haven't even had time to read anything you've sent to me recently."
"I can tell."
"I know I've been quiet over holomail, it's just–"
"It wasn't a criticism, Lana. Relax."
"I know. I just...wish I had more time." She stopped abruptly, as if there was more she wanted to say. Vestra looked at her curiously, and Lana met her eye. "If it makes you feel any better, I did miss you."
"It does make me feel better," Vestra said, a hint of a tease in her voice. "And I did think of you as well."
"That's...good to know."
Vestra smiled, and leaned back against the tree. She gazed upon the stars once more, feeling her heart drift into a state of calm she hadn't known for months. "I'm glad you're here."
She felt a gentle tug in her chest – a motion through the Force. She looked back at her companion, whose eyes were fixed on her.
"Yes?"
Lana cocked her head. "You look beautiful when you smile like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you have nothing to prove. It's...genuine."
"Oh?" Vestra put on a grin, leaning close. "How do you know it's genuine?"
That earned her a click of the tongue and – unfortunately – an elbow in the ribs. A muffled cry issued through her gritted teeth as she hunched over, fists clenched while she rode out the pain, with Lana's hands gripping her shoulders.
"Stars, I'm so sorry!"
"It's fine," Vestra groaned, as Lana pushed her back, setting her against the tree for support. "Been through worse."
Lana shook her head, distress written across her features. Her hands moved to Vestra's ribs, hovering. "May I?"
"Please."
Lana held her gently, and the warmth itself was nearly enough to erase the pain. Vestra kept still as Lana wove the Force over her, washing away the pain, further mending that which had been broken. When she filled her lungs to the brim, pushing further into Lana's touch, she no longer felt the ache in her chest – just hands that still held her. Gentle.
Her eyes met gold, gleaming in the dark, and she found herself drowning.
But she didn't want to surface for air.
"Do you feel better?" Lana asked softly.
"Yes." Her hand rose of its own volition, and cupped Lana's cheek. Golden eyes flickered down, but she didn't move away. "You're beautiful as well. Smile or not."
She dared brush a thumb over Lana's cheek.
"Vestra, I–"
"Hush," Vestra whispered quickly – a flinch, from what she knew would come. She could feel it from the tug in her chest, more insistent now. She wondered if Lana was aware.
She let herself slip, just a little. Yielding to the pull, Vestra let herself drift close, finding Lana in the darkness naturally. All too naturally. Their lips met – slow, and soft. Softer than she ever dared wish, and Vestra was thankful for the cover of night, knowing Lana had felt her lips tremble. She knew, because Lana kissed her again; a reassurance, which made her want to crumble in Lana's arms, safe in the darkness. But that was a luxury she could ill afford.
"Will you stay?" Vestra whispered. "Just...stay."
"I will."
Indulgently, foolishly, they stayed in that spot together for the night, falling asleep against each other.
They snuck back into camp before first light broke over the horizon, and their stolen moment was soon driven from Vestra's mind – first by the lecture her crew had the gall to deliver, then by the Imperial campaign against the Republic. They hadn't a moment alone since, only the security of each other's presence on the battlefield.
It was a week before Vestra received a summons from Darth Marr, and she was given the courtesy of being sent off by Darth Arkous himself. She returned his polite bow, and nodded briefly at his advisor, before marching up into the safe confines of her ship.
Despite the war, they managed to find each other again. Each time, a sorely-needed solace in the other's arms, a reassurance marked on naked flesh that they were alive, still alive, amid chaos and bloodshed. Each time, it was harder to let her go.
The last time, Vestra had nearly begged her not to go.
But Avriss would no longer be denied, and Vestra's fingers finally closed into a fist.
One night, Vestra walked Lana up against the wall, pinning her partner in place by the hips. Lana returned her smouldering gaze with an amused smirk of her own – and Vestra wanted dearly to kiss it off her lips. But the time for that was not now.
"If I said I wanted you all to myself...how would you feel?" Vestra murmured, a purr beneath her voice that promised all things salacious...and otherwise. It was a ploy, one that would have sent any lesser person into an uncertain mess. But not Lana.
Golden eyes regarded her calmly, trying to read her assured mask. "How typical of you," she replied, humour dry. "I wouldn't be surprised...but curious."
"Curious?"
"Would Darth Avriss give herself in exchange?"
Vestra stared at her, unable to read Lana's impenetrable gaze. She'd have to make a gamble, and bare her neck.
"She would." Vestra drifted close, their breaths mixing. She rested a hand on Lana's hip, digging her fingers in slowly. "Only to the right person."
They remained a hair apart out of sheer obstinacy, Vestra watching as Lana's eyes were eclipsed by desire. She felt herself waver when fingertips ghosted over her cheek, then sent a jolt through her chest when the caress on her nape turned into an iron grip. Vestra barely glimpsed a maddening smirk on Lana's lips, before her own were bruised by a sudden, possessive kiss. She gasped into Lana's mouth, yielding to her partner, and relinquished the reins with terrifying ease.
It was with her wrists bound above her head, and Lana's hand on her neck, that she was unmade.
"You're mine," Lana intoned.
The pressure on her throat tightened, and Vestra could only gaze up in helpless worship at golden eyes burning in the dark, devouring her whole.
"I'm yours."
Thanks to a recent victorious campaign, Lana had a few more days to rest without a weight upon her shoulders – and she chose to spend them in Kaas City. She lodged at the penthouse at Vestra's insistence, given a guest room that never saw use. Most mornings were filled with a delectable aroma from the kitchen, and Lana's days were either spent walking the grounds of Kaas City, or absorbing knowledge within the comfortable walls of Vestra's archives.
Every night, no matter how Lana chose to spend her days, Vestra would find her partner back by her side. Sometimes they would be entangled in fierce, mutual need. Sometimes, Vestra was content to lie on the pillows and listen while Lana held a datapad in hand, and verbally synthesised her findings into her next, unwritten work. It didn't long for Vestra to discover those delightful little squints when she tried to interject with dreadfully inaccurate observations, and had to convince Lana to stay with arms clinging tightly about her waist.
Their time together was surreal, remarkably disparate compared to typical days spent in the line of duty. It almost felt like a dream from which Vestra didn't want to wake. But when it came time for Lana to leave, Vestra found it easier to let go.
She flew Lana to a remote planet in the Outer Rim, on the other end of the galaxy, where she was needed to help Imperial forces break out of a prolonged stalemate. Lana was cool, confident as she strode towards the ship's exit, but her stride faltered at the touch on her arm. Vestra turned her around gently, slipping an arm around her waist to draw her close.
The kiss was sweeter than anything Vestra had ever known, and a lament rose to her throat when Lana pulled away.
Lana gazed at her in silence for a moment. "Did you mean it?"
There was no doubt what she referred to. A knot wound tight at Vestra's core; Lana was giving her a chance to break free, to avoid a connection that could turn into weakness. But she imagined Lana walking away from her now – without looking back, without ever coming back – and her knees nearly buckled in a desperate plea.
"I did," she replied, quieter than the faintest pindrop, but the most sincere she'd ever been. "And you?"
"I would like that, yes."
Vestra smiled, tracing the curve of Lana's lips with a thumb, before drawing her into another kiss. Lana leaned into her, one kiss leading to another, neither willing to part quite–
"Lana! Please wait, I haven't–!"
Ashara ran into the doorway, and froze upon seeing the two Sith locked in an embrace. She turned on her heels with military precision, raising a hand to block them from view.
"I am very sorry."
"It's alright, Ashara," Lana said, a laugh hidden in her tone. She laid a pacifying hand on Vestra's chest when a low growl reached her ears, then approached Ashara. "What is it?"
Ashara peeked over her hand, then turned back to Lana, holding up a datapad. "I promised to give you the analysis before you left…"
"You couldn't have sent that over holomail?" Vestra snapped, annoyed.
Lana shot her a warning glance, then gave a smile to Ashara. "Thank you. I nearly forgot with...everything else on my mind." She took the datapad, flicking through the screen with an approving nod. "It may be some time before I manage to publish this, but I'll see that you get proper credit when the time comes."
"No names, please."
"A shame, but you have my word." Lana bowed her head, and walked back to the door as the ramp outside was lowered with a hiss.
"Shall I see you to the camp?" Vestra asked.
"My own Councilor escort?" Lana laughed. "Let's not draw undue attention, shall we? Besides, it may invite questions from Arkous."
"If he has any complaints, he's more than welcome to raise them to me." Vestra smirked. She took Lana's hand, and placed a kiss on gloved knuckles. "Stars watch over you."
"May they guide you back to me."
Vestra's smile softened, their gazes lingering on each other, before Lana turned away. The doors slid open before her, and she marched smartly down the ramp to the small escort waiting for her. 2V-R8 followed after her at a distance, with Lana's modest pack slung over his shoulders. Vestra watched them go, then waved away the Sith Lord who'd come to bow low to her from the foot of the ramp.
Walking back into the ship, she moved past Ashara, then paused and looked back at her apprentice – who grinned at her, teasing and unapologetic.
"What?"
"I'd never expected to think of Sith as 'sweet' but...here we are."
Vestra rolled her eyes, turning away. "Don't spout nonsense, Ashara."
"You turn into a pile of goo around her, and you know it!" Ashara sang after her.
"Shut up," Vestra called back without looking. She shook her head at Ashara's giggle, rolling her eyes again as she entered her own quarters.
Ashara was being ridiculous, of course. But she thought of Lana's parting smile, and her heart grew immeasurably, unforgivably soft.
[From: Vestra Lenshe]
[Subject: Need to say]
[You (and everyone else) are right – I'm an impenitent narcissist. But that's not all; it seems I am a coward as well. That's why I chose to write this from half the galaxy away. Why I still feel like I can't breathe while I type this down, alone in my quarters. I have found the one person whom I care about, so much more than myself, more than everything else in known space, and I can't even face her to tell her how I feel.
I don't know how it happened. Didn't mean for it to happen. But I find my thoughts turning to you, always, and I ache when I remember that you are far away. Out of reach.
Our Code states that peace is a lie. But that couldn't be further from the truth when I'm with you. All the pain I've suffered, the rage I've felt, the bitterness I've buried – everything fades away when I see you. When I feel your touch. When I hear my name on your tongue. This war-torn galaxy, impossibly, feels right when your arms are around me.
I realise I am placing a burden at your feet. Though I wish it weren't so, your association with me will put you in danger. This letter isn't binding – I suppose it's just a place for me to lay everything out before these thoughts drive me insane. You are at full liberty to move on – I won't stop you. Tell me to desist, and I will.
No matter what you decide, just know that I love you.
I love you so much that it frightens me.]
"My lord?" Andronikos' voice sounded through her comlink. "There's an incoming shuttle requesting permission to dock with our ship."
"I hate uninvited visitors. Ready the blaster cannons," Vestra drawled, earning a squint from Ashara, who sat with her in the galley.
"You...may not want to do that. It's Lana Beniko."
Vestra froze. It'd been two weeks since she sent that letter to Lana, and she'd spent every waking moment since, torn between regret and anticipation and everything else that threatened to tear her apart from within. Most times, logic told her that Lana was busy as advisor to the Head of Military Offense. Other times, she believed she had been forsaken, and would wreak her premature grief upon the Republic ranks.
Distraction, that was how she'd spent those two weeks. Now, it seemed she would finally get her answer.
"Uh, boss? She sounds impatient."
"Let her dock." Vestra rose from the booth, body feeling hollow. She could barely hear Ashara calling her name as she left the galley, feet moving on auto-pilot.
She paced before the sealed doors, while thuds sounded on top of the ship, followed by audible clicks as clamps locked onto the shuttle, securing it. Then there was a loud hum as a docking tube extended from her interceptor to the shuttle, and hissing as pressure within the tube was equalised. Indicator lights on the side panel turned from red to green, and the doors slid open to...reveal nothing.
Vestra cocked her head, taking a step forward – only to stop dead in her tracks when a figure dropped neatly on their feet before the doors, disregarding the ladder that had been extended for use. Vestra stared as Lana straightened herself, then met her eyes. An angry scowl drew Lana's brows together, and Vestra's heart sank amid utter confusion when Lana stormed forward, grabbing the front of her shirt. She was pushed mercilessly backwards, nearly tripping on her heels, until her back slammed against the bulkhead. Her head bounced once against polished metal, but the sting was forgotten when Lana's mouth collided into hers, kissing her hard. Vestra had barely pulled her wits together to return the kiss, and nearly whined when Lana broke away.
"I love you too, you dense, self-absorbed, sentimental, gorgeous fool!"
She rammed a fist into Vestra's shoulder, setting off a dull ache that didn't register with Vestra – who stared, speechless. Lana's heated confession rang in her ears, and she ached to hear it again.
"Well?" Lana demanded. "Say something!"
Her heart leapt – nothing was quite as beautiful as Lana, in all her exasperated fury. A smile parted Vestra's lips, half in tease, all in adoration.
"Did you really fly a shuttle all the way out here just to catch me?"
Lana shook her head, jaw clenching. "Say it, Vestra. I want to hear you say it."
Her breath caught in her throat. She stared back at Lana, whose glare had softened, a hint of a plea in her eyes. Those exquisite golden eyes, and they were for her. Only her.
Vestra laid a hand over the fist on her shoulder, which uncurled at the touch, allowing her to close her fingers over Lana's. Slowly, she brought the hand to her lips, placing a gentle kiss on bare knuckles. Then she guided Lana's palm down to her chest, laying bare the truth hidden in the accelerated beat of her heart.
She gazed back at Lana, so soft that she could break, and smiled.
"I love you, Lana Beniko."