Bonus Scene
The Bashing – Author's Cut
15 BBY – Fortress Inquisitorious
"Do you not drink?"
Xur was pulled from his train of thought as Trilla's question sounded off in his skull, her voice having an eerie effect on him, as always. He could be in the deepest of dream states only to be immediately alert once she began speaking, and he couldn't determine if that were a good thing or not.
"What?" he asked, turning towards the Inquisitor, who sat back in her chair with one leg propped up on the table they shared.
"Am I boring you?" she asked…which was a disguised threat, and he knew it.
"If you were boring me, I'd tell you," he promised, finally removing his helmet and setting it aside, just as she had for her own.
She chuckled at that. "Yes, I imagine you would."
Since what had happened in the Tion Cluster, Trilla had been oddly more tolerant of him than before, especially with their less-than-ideal introduction only a few months ago. It was strange…and somewhat unsettling, as he imagined he may just be her next target for termination, drawing him in only to drive her blade through his abdomen once he got too close.
By the Force…was it hard to resist. Any prospect at being Trilla's friend got him excited and hopeful, two things he should not be letting himself feel under any circumstances as of now. The Second Sister was, by all means, a manipulative harpy who would sell him out at the first chance she spotted, and it quite literally put his heart atop a cutting board and sliced it to a million tiny pieces.
The zabrak was beginning to hate the fact that he still loved her.
"What's the matter?" she asked, setting her glass down and pulling her leg from the table. "Is there something bothering you?"
"Since when do you give a shit?" he spat, keeping his body aimed towards the other Inquisitors conversing with each other at various tables.
Her deep giggle was spine shivering as she leaned in, propping her head up with her gloved hand under her chin. "You're a very intriguing man…I will admit."
Xur looked over to her glass, and noticed it was empty…and that she'd filled it with Rancor's Gut, a liquor that was meant for aliens much larger than her to consume.
"Ah, I see…you're tipsy, Sister," he noticed.
"Perhaps a little," she admitted, still eyeing him closely. "But I rarely allow it to get out of control, and I assure you, I am being sincere."
"So, you're a truth drunk?" he figured, deciding to bite and turn her way. "You start showing your true colors when you drink."
Trilla winked at that. "Right again, Brother."
With her this close, he wanted to stoop in and kiss her with a fervor he could not control, but he knew that was exactly what she wanted. She was baiting him…and she was damn good at it too.
"Do you trust me now?" she asked.
Xur snorted. "I don't think I'll ever trust you. Work with you maybe, but I'm not so sure about that strong T word."
She smacked her lips together in condescension. "Awww, and here I thought we were getting somewhere."
"We?" he narrowed his eyes.
Her smirk slowly manifested on one side of her lips. "I'm not blind…Brother."
Xur decided to tease her a bit, leaning in for a moment, only to tap her nose with one finger. "Neither am I, Sister."
Trilla looked as if she was going to grab him by the neck, but two massive hands slamming on their table drew their eyes away.
"Look at this…" a large, masked alien of an Inquisitor bore down on the two of them, the Ninth Sister just behind him. "Are you this harpy's new squeeze?"
Xur wasn't sure how to react, and Trilla only seemed to look away with disinterest, leaving him to only scratch the back of his head. "Who's this asshole?"
"I don't even remember," Trilla shrugged. "Ninth Brother? Not sure…don't much care."
He pointed his large finger towards Xur's head. "Listen here, you little twat, and you might learn something. If you believe for a second that his bitch cares, that's right when you'll be sold out and left for dead under the rotting sun."
"He's speaking from experience," Trilla giggled.
"Damn right I am," he growled, marching towards her as she refused to look his way. "I've been waiting months to get another crack at this little skug, and when I'm done with her, you won't even know whose body it once belonged to."
Xur felt an internal rage begin to build at the imagination of that sight.
"You're not even worth a moment of my time," Trilla sighed. "Much less the breath I would have to exert disposing of you properly this time."
The Ninth Brother bore upon her, and she still did not look his way. "You're going to die slowly, honey-tits…and I'm going to make your next victim here watch. I'm sure down the road he'll thank me afterwards."
Involuntarily, Xur's fist clenched.
"Run along, little man," Trilla rolled her eyes. "I have more important matters to attend to."
"You bitch," he spat, and laid his hands on her shoulders.
Xur's chair was flung aside as he was up on his feet and lunged forward, grasping ahold of the larger man's neck and then proceeded to bash his head atop the durasteel table repeatedly. His anger spiked to a fever pitch, and with it his strength only multiplied with each hit. Soon, blue blood began to splatter as he continued his savage attack, cracking his mask open until he finally fell limp. With a huff, he pushed the body aside and let the leaking corpse display his shattered skull to the rest of them.
His eyes yellow, and Trilla's attention finally gained, he let out a quick exhale. "Anyone else?"
The Ninth Sister, who had stood from behind, made no movement, her smile only growing. With a gesture, Xur requested the drink in her hand, and when she handed it to him, he downed its contents and let the glass shatter atop the man's body. Sniffing his nose clear of any build up, he sat back down in his seat, never minding the blue splatter that now sullied their table.
Once the other Inquisitors turned their attention away, Trilla smiled. "You are in love with me."
Xur gave her an admonishing look. "Don't go there."
She chuckled, reclaiming her glass and sharing a ghost toast. "No promises."
