CHAPTER 21

Passive Aggression

"Speak softly and carry a big stick."

Fury, 14 BBY

Adrift

"And together."

Trilla concentrated, and it was almost surreal to watch her new mechno-arm move with her simple neural commands. Her entire forearm was now a black and silver mesh of servos and gears, all working to animate the prosthetic in a near life-like fashion. The hand was even more mesmerizing, watching the pins shift which each movement from her wrist.

She pulled her fingers together per Rava's command, all five digits touching in the middle. The sensation was odd, but to have a second hand that could feel again was incredible.

"Look at that," Xur remarked, watching from the side while Trilla got a feel for her new limb. Rava was held up by a crane mechanism, and had done all the work herself, once again proving her incredible utility.

"It's amazing," Trilla almost gasped, a smile on her face.

"Open again," Rava directed, and Trilla followed. Now the VI revealed a sharp prod, and then poked in various places. She felt every poke, but without synth-flesh, there wasn't much pain to be stimulated unless the pin broke the outer layer of metal. "Good, your interface looks to be active."

Rava applied a few finishing touches, mostly just the casing to hide and protect the extensive tech, and then released her new arm from the bench.

"You're all set, Trilla," she confirmed. "If you wish to make upgrades or add synth-flesh, we will need to commandeer the necessary materials."

Trilla grinned, feeling it with her flesh and blood hand. "Thank you, Rava."

"Of course," the VI tipped her head as she set herself back on the floor and retracted the crane. "I will be in the cockpit if you require anything further."

As Rava rolled away, Trilla slid from her chair while Xur stood. "How does it feel?" he asked. "It looks badass."

She giggled, twisting it around. "It almost feels normal, just when I…" she clasped the metal fist with her left hand. "…do that, it feels like metal."

Xur reached out, and she allowed him to take it into both of his hands, getting a feel for it. "You think you can duel with this thing?"

She scoffed. "I think I'll be better with this enhancement," she reckoned, and then let it feel up his chest, stopping at his heart. Her eyes shut in bliss as its strong beating registered in her senses, letting it glide up to his neck, where she could feel skin. "How's that?" she asked.

His eyes panned downwards in visible disappointment, which wasn't what she expected. "A little cold…honestly. I'm sorry it had to come to this."

Trilla felt her heartstrings pull at his sadness, and with grace, she pulled his dangling black hair back atop his head and inched forward, pressing her warm hand against his face. Gripping his shoulder with the prosthetic, she kissed him gently, and once he caught on, it deepened, becoming the entwining of their tongues. He pressed forward, wrapping his arms around her lithe frame and pulling her closer, feeling her exposed skin as he ripped off his gloves, her bra the only thing covering her upper body. She undressed him to reveal his own as their kiss continued, unleashing the pent-up feelings that had manifested on the Mantis, showing each other how deep their love truly was.

When she pulled away, breathing heavily from the exchange, her emerald eyes instilled themselves within him. "If I had to give it all up again to keep you, I would."

He inhaled, breathing in her scent as their foreheads fell together. "I love you."

Trilla smiled. "I know," she said, and they kissed again, letting the motions work themselves out.


Destral, 14 BBY

Imperial Gunship

"Aurora Actual, we're approaching requested drop zone."

Vorchenko pulled over her protective goggles and slid her helmet over her head, letting the padding settle in over her tied-back hair. It had been a few years since she had seen some personal action, and with her upbringing as a Republic Marine, to say her trigger finger was itching would be an understatement.

"Take us in, fast and quiet," she relayed to the pilot through her commlink, priming her E-11D blaster carbine, flicking off the safety. Once she was prepared, she turned to her two death trooper guards…the only soldiers she trusted for this mission. Understood as merely highly trained units, the two of them were truly a duet of female echani warriors, trained in not only their people's advanced hand-to-hand combat, but also extensively in firefight specialization.

Hence why she spoke Echani to them, a language hardly understood by most of the Imperial brass, which meant neither of them ever used their vocal scramblers. Their pro-human stance served as a crippling weakness in that regard.

"This is stealth and recon. We only go hot if I say so," Vorchenko reminded them. "We only make enemies if we have to. Use of Basic is permitted."

"Understood," the replied in unison, their vocal emulators projecting their voices in a deep, male-like tone.

The gunship shifted as it pulled in, its doors opening to reveal the tropical planet at the break of dawn, and with a commanding wave, the three of them leapt below, into the fray.


Brutis hated nature…with a passion.

Tropical planets were never pleasurable, especially for one who spent most of his time in heavy armor, as the heat would build up underneath the protective fabric and remain trapped as his sweat soaked his garments. Brutis was used to sweat and feeling uncomfortable, as it had never been in his job description to lounge around in the bliss of dry clothes and a glass of whiskey in his hand. The Inquisitorious had never been kind enough to at least grant him a day of that.

The planet he and Petro had ended up on was the first that was off all Imperial star charts, and that was immediately apparent with how little it had been ruined. Insects were vibrant, not exterminated, and there was no smell of industrial smog to wake him up in the morning. What it was called, he had no idea, and could care less.

This would be where their journey would end…for now. He knew better than to expect the Empire to keep its child-molesting hands to itself, but wishful thinking was pleasant…while also dangerously stupid.

Light funneled through the trees above as Brutis used his combat knife to cut a swath through the tall plants and greenery, feeling satisfaction in chopping each of them down, while Petro followed behind, this kid's stolen E-11 blaster across his chest. Not to mention the vibroblade over his shoulder, which was courtesy of an unfortunate market dealer who wished to expose them to the Empire. There was a lot of blood splattered around that shop when that debacle came to an end.

"I hope you had something better in mind than camping out in a rainforest," Petro remarked while Brutis grunted, swinging away. "Who knows what's waiting out there to eat us alive."

"I don't give two shits about wild animals," Brutis grumbled. "You should be more concerned about what you eat. One time one of my mates ate a fruit that turned his skin black."

Petro gulped in disgust. "Did he survive?"

"Of course, then he was bisected by the Jedi we were after two days later. Fucking idiot," he finished the brief tale. "He was one of those the Empire is unstoppable kind of cunts."

"I thought you said he was your mate?"

"That's short for squadmate, kid," he clarified. "I don't feel remorse for stupidity."

"I know."

Brutis smirked. "Ah, you are listening to me."

For the soft little Jedi he once was, Petro had grown into a hard ass assassin to be, now able to properly protect himself without being held down by Jedi morals. He still had his adolescent mouth, but that could serve him well, despite how annoying it could be for the former purge trooper to deal with.

Yet he didn't react to Brutis' rare compliment. When he turned back to make sure he hadn't been dragged off, he noticed the young man with his eyes turned skyward and a grim look on his face.

"Fucking hell, what is it?" he asked, coming up beside him and looking through the tree cover. Petro pointed, and Brutis only grumbled at the sight of an Imperial Star Destroyer in orbit. It was such a predictable sight; he couldn't even muster the strength to look upset.

"Fucked in the ass," he remarked.


Fury, 14 BBY

Hyperspace

Trilla gasped as the euphoria ran its course through her body, quite literally feeling as if she was being melted into. The sounds she emitted from her mouth were that of intense pleasure, followed by sweet relief as those feelings passed, leaving a blissful grin across her face as she fell forward, her exposed body lying out over her partner. He was breathing heavily, and she could feel his heartbeat at a rate that was perhaps not ideal for his health.

"Oh my…holy fuck," Xur gasped, nearly heaving at this point.

Trilla's breathing wasn't any easier, but the look on her face was prepared for more, not to accept death as it is. "Can't handle it?" she sneered, her mouth beside his ear with the way they were entangled.

Xur chuckled. "Trilla…you're like snorting raw zro," he said in simile. Zro was a compound that could be used to enhance focus in Force users but was only used in small doses. However, some unfortunate Jedi in the past had discovered that if they doubled their dose, and were able to fight off the overwhelming wave of senses that came, people earned an impressive high from it afterwards, leading to abuses that still went on to this day. Trilla had noticed various inquisitors addicted to the craze of it, to which she never joined in…as her guilty pleasure was certainly that of alcohol.

And now, it was wreaking havoc upon a man whose battlefield prowess did him no favors under her entertainment. The longest he could ever last…

Well, it was pitiful, to be honest, but she didn't care. In truth, it was all worth it, just to break him down in a form that only benefitted them both.

Xur shook his head. "Did I say three arms? Give me six."

Trilla giggled and kissed his cheek, finally rolling off his body, propping herself on one side to still display herself to him. "Such an incredible warrior…broken down by one woman and a bed."

The zabrak grinned and turned his head, his eyes locking on her chest. "Is this where Second Sister comes out? Don't tell me she's still pissed about me blowing her through a couple of tables."

Trilla laughed out loud, reminded of the first time he had begun his mission, where they both hashed it out in the Fortress dining room. "As first impressions go, I'd say she was moderately impressed, despite the slight embarrassment."

"Impressed," Xur mocked shock, rolling over to face her. "She wasn't feeling the hots already was she?"

She shook her head as if to break bad news. "More like murder instinct. I'd say she was feeling the hots for seeing your body impaled through a spike," she winked at the end.

"What about in the Tion Cluster, when I heroically saved her from certain death?" he asked, inching forward. "Oh, well, I guess she wouldn't remember that."

Trilla inched forward on her own. "Oh? And why would that be?"

Xur grinned and lifted his fist in front of her face, before mimicking an explosion with his mouth, to which she giggled almost hysterically.

"You're adorable," she remarked.

He blushed, but his confidence did not waver. "And you're literally the sexiest woman alive."

Trilla could barely contain herself when he flattered her so absolutely. It was only a short time ago she was still a broken soul, vomiting on her floor and crying profusely; a drone programmed to kill on command…without feeling, without anything. She had confidence, but it wasn't in herself. It was in her ability to take life, not who she truly was. There was no celebration of her individuality among the galactic community, or just simply among her peers, which is perhaps one of the more degrading effects of her fall to the Dark Side.

Xur made her feel whole…he made her feel wanted, infinitely desirable. He made her want to be her, not an ideal figment of her imagination, and she loved him for that. There was so much to their relationship beyond how they were attracted to each other physically. The bond that had formed between them since they were barely teenagers had survived the most devastating attempts to sever it, and now it was stronger than ever.

He reached forward in her state of bliss, letting his hand brush over her hips and down into the dip of her stomach, arousing goosebumps of pleasure wherever his hand went. Instinctually, she reached out with her mechno-arm to do the same, but pulled back, remembering his words from before. Xur seemed to notice her hesitation and took the chance to clasp her false limb in both of his own.

"How do you like it?" he asked, losing the sexual banter for now.

"I want to give it a try, in honesty," she admitted, rubbing its thumb against his fingers. "Maybe crush a man's skull with it."

Xur chuckled at her over-the-top brutality. "I'm sure you'll be able to do some damage," he remarked, and then asked a question she wasn't ready for. "And you and Cere?"

She sighed, not having an answer readily prepared, so she spoke from her heart. "Our problems…they can't be solved within one conversation," she explained, trying to find comfort in his grip. "I'll never be her student again, but…you were right about my hatred. It's time for me to let it go. All it has ever given me is pain…and without it, well, I feel better already."

Xur smiled so brightly he almost looked as if he would cry, and she felt herself melt in it with joy. He confessed, "You have no idea what that means to me, Trilla. That's…everything I ever did, all of it wasn't for nothing."

Trilla sniffled, letting her prosthetic caress his face, her emotions boiling over. "I can't thank you enough for everything you risked. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you."

He grasped her wrist with purpose. "Oh, Trilla, you already have."

"Thirty minutes to our destination," Rava chimed in over the intercom, and Trilla sighed.

"Thank you, Rava."

Xur shrugged. "At least I get a break from you."

"Trust me, I know you don't believe that to be a good thing," she smirked, and they kissed hungrily, her moans intense and meaningful as she tasted his love.

When they pulled away, he smirked. "You shouldn't be such a dick to Cal though, hun."

Trilla rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Oh, fuck off with that," she rolled off the bed and fetched her black under suit, beginning to slide it back over her body. "That presumptuous boy deserves everything I give him."

Xur scoffed as he pulled over his pants. "You're the one who chased him across the galaxy."

"For what? A few months?"

"I'm sure you filled his nightmares."

Trilla wasn't as ashamed of that as she probably should be, in fact she began to wonder why she was so unapologetic to him, aside from natural instinct. She grumbled with that realization. "Honestly, sweetheart, I think I just…I'm not sure. I can't display weakness before him."

Xur shook his head. "I think you're still pissed about BD-1 whippin' up that ray shield in your face."

She knew he was kidding, but she was aware of what he was getting at. "If it wasn't for that damn droid…"

"Ah? See!" Xur pointed.

Trilla saw no further point in fighting this losing battle. "Tell you what, and only because you asked, I'll take it under advisement."

Once the two of them had dressed themselves, Trilla needing a full replacement from her endless array of duplicate suits, and Xur settling into the old inquisitor garments he had taken back from the Mantis. The toughest part was deciding what to do about her new mechno-arm, but she elected to merely conceal it under her black gauntlet, letting the glove hide the mechanism from view. She found herself observing the sight, almost stunned by how her right arm merely looked normal with the cover.

Then there was her hilt…not the one she had used as the Second Sister…the one she had used when she was Padawan Trilla Suduri, before Inquisitorious, before Emperor's Wrath.

Before she was a monster.

The durasteel hilt…it almost mocked her from where it lay, screaming I told you so over and over in an endless cycle. There was an urge that arose within her to crush it under her fist, but it soon faded, reconciled with the shaky faith that she was now reformed…stronger.

Different.

"Hun?"

Trilla turned to Xur's voice, snapped out of her trance. "What?"

His head cocked with concern. "You're spending an awful amount of time staring at that thing."

With a huff, she shook her head back into focus, and reached out with her right hand. Using the Force with the mechno-arm felt like a waking limb, taking its time for the energies to manifest from her flesh and blood and into the extension of herself. It wasn't easy, as the Force did not recognize it as one with her yet, but with enough focus, the hilt rattled and jerked into her right hand with a clap. The design was perfect for her, its weight aligned with her own center of balance, and she could already feel its superiority.

Trilla ignited the blade with a flick of the switch, and the gold glow cascaded against her skin like the sunrise on a barren moon…breathing life into a dead world once again. With a few flicks of her wrist, she twirled it around, before falling into her ready stance and deactivating it with an exhale.

Good to have you back, old friend.

The kyber crystal within called to her, and she smiled, hooking the hilt on her left hip.

"You're making me jealous," Xur said, adjusting his glove.

Trilla giggled. "As if I haven't proven myself to you enough…"

It was good to be back…somewhat.


Destral, 14 BBY

Tropics

"Heat sigs, two klicks."

Vorchenko tapped the side of her goggles with a single finger, flipping its vision into infrared filter. Unable to confirm her guardian's callout, she twisted the small knob until her vision was amplified enough to magnify the forward area. There were at least six signatures she could pick out, and based off their stances, they were certainly armed. Ducked behind an outcropping of plants in the dense jungle, along with the distance, they had not been spotted.

"Targets spotted," the Admiral confirmed. "Advance along the side and remain safe distance. We need to know where they're camped."

"Copy that," they both seconded.

"Aurora Actual, come in," her commlink rang within her earpiece, emitting zero noise. It was the line direct from the Valkyrie, which she had ordered to stay silent unless a matter of importance.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"We have a ship inbound. They had the proper codes, so we cleared them to land," her Commodore in charge relayed, to which she nigh-seethed.

"I said no air traffic was to be permitted."

"They also had the code phrase, ma'am."

Vorchenko paused, knowing that changed the circumstance. "I see. Model?"

"Razor-Class Interceptor, Imperial model."

For the first time in a long while, she had been caught off guard. Mixed feelings arose as the reality set in, knowing the owner of that ship…but not the outcome of the skirmish on Katarr. It wasn't quite time for she and Eon's bi-monthly check in, and for safety's sake she had been in the dark since she had revealed his location to Suduri.

Which meant this could either be a blessing, or a terrible curse.

"Shall I order a pursuit and recall?"

No, that would be foolish, no matter who was piloting that ship.

"Stand down, Commodore. I shall deal with it," she ordered, shutting off the comm and shoring up her blaster rifle. "Stay vigilant. We could be receiving a powerful ally or dangerous adversary."

"Will be ready either way, ma'am."


"What are we going to do?" Petro asked while he and Brutis paced back the way they came, the former purge trooper stomping through his cut path.

"We're going to leave this fucking planet now," he grumbled.

"And do what?" the former youngling challenged, his annoyance bristling as well. "Hide someplace else until they find us again? How long will that be? Two days until we're doing this again?"

Brutis said nothing, focusing on his stomping and trying to drown out his voice.

"One day we're going to have to fight back!"

He stopped and turned, making Petro grind to a halt before him, looking up to Brutis' towering height. "The day you fight back is the day you die," he growled. "We're going back now."

"You trained me how to fight," the boy pointed. "Let me fight!"

Brutis merely chuckled to himself in mockery, turning back down the path. "You know what? Go on. Go on and fight! Maybe after a few days in the lightning rod you'll understand it."

"They won't catch me!" Petro assured, trying to catch up to his increasing pace. "I've learned so much!"

"Not enough," he denied, even if he agreed with what he was saying. Petro was getting better, but he was only really a match for a slow and sloppy inquisitor, not a dogmatic and precise one…like the one he used to serve.

It was almost fate to witness what he saw next, and he shoved Petro aside before they breached the jungle clearing, the boy grunting in annoyance from the fall.

"The hell?" he protested.

Brutis shushed him with one raised finger…and pointed through the trees.


Trilla stopped the flow of water from her sink once her glass was filled, proceeding to take a large gulp that revitalized her parched tongue. Gasping for air and moving to refill it, she pulled open her drawer as she felt the ship touch down, fumbling through it until she found a capsule pill wrapped in plastic. After another truly brilliant experience with her partner, it was almost instinct to prepare the contraceptive, swallow and forget…but as the water refilled her glass, she found herself pausing.

She hated it when she hesitated, especially with a practice so simple and borderline required in her current state of affairs. It was foolish to even consider such a thing, a burden so undeserved and frankly unwarranted.

But how could it be undeserved?

Over the course of her life, she had been dominated by her preconceptions, whether it be what happened with Tano on Tranbir IX, Xur's faked death or her own faith in herself. Now it seemed no different, just another question she had never bothered to ask herself, one she thought had already been answered for her.

She toyed with it between her fingers, and then felt her free hand rub against her stomach. It wasn't possible…not with all she had suffered…all she had lost. To gain something…felt unnatural…something so precious that only the gifted ever earned.

Who's to say I'm not gifted any longer?

Trilla had told Xur that she would always love him, that he would always have a place in her heart…and she meant that. Even in the Force, she knew they were meant to spend the rest of their lives as one, and the connection they now bore was virtually invincible.

What better way to test their bond?

With a nod to herself that denoted a leap of faith, she dropped the pill back into her drawer and shut it.

Her hand remained on her stomach as she smiled to herself, satisfied with her risky decision.

Once she finished applying sparse makeup to project herself, she stepped out of her room to Xur pacing out of the cockpit, Rava rolling beside him and protesting, "I am not your housekeeping droid. I shall accompany you if I wish."

Xur grumbled and pointed sternly at the short VI. "Last time we left you here, we were able to keep our ship from being boosted, not to mention the fact that you found us. If anything it's a compliment."

"It is an insult of my proper capabilities," Rava's red optic flashed in a state of annoyance. "Anyhow this is not our ship, it is hers."

Trilla rubbed the back of her neck and shrugged. "I'm sorry, what?"

The zabrak noticed she was there and gave her a don't-worry-about-it smile, which had the opposite effect on her interest. "Rava and I are just going over our duties to the ship."

"Like hell," Rava growled, opening her shock prod compartment. "Besides a source of erotic pleasure for this ship's captain, I don't see your extended use to this crew."

Trilla groaned with discomfort. "Rava…"

Now Xur was getting frustrated. "Ok ball, even with all your superior intelligence you don't have the sense to acquire a superior platform."

"Platform? This stealth model allows me to take advantage of a key organic flaw: underestimation, which you are falling prey to as we exchange words."

"Are you kidding me? I'll drop kick you into orbit."

"No you won't," Trilla pointed in warning.

"And I'll put you into cardiac arrest," Rava shot back.

"Enough!" Trilla growled, pushing Xur back with a stern shove and kicking Rava away. "What's the bloody problem?"

"Your mate wants to leave me on the ship," Rava explained, looking up to her, while Trilla then focused her attention to Xur, prompting him to confirm.

"She can…you know…make sure the engines are ready to go," he seconded. "It worked last time…"

Trilla huffed and stepped forward, crossing her arms. "You told me we were meeting your friend here…and then when the Valkyrie detected us, it was Rava who got us through."

"I told you we don't have to worry about the-."

"To which you have not explained to me why," Trilla continued, her head cocking. "The way I see it, the ledger is not in your favor."

He cleared his throat, unsure how to answer. "But-."

"She is coming, sweetheart," she decided, placing her hands on his chest. "My ship, my rules."

Her touch had the desired effect, and he smiled back. "You're the boss, hun."

"Indeed I am," she planted a quick kiss on his cheek and headed to the boarding ramp. "Although, you will need to lead the way."

"Oh, no need to worry about that," Xur answered, giving Rava a threatening show-up move, to which she sparked her prod before leaving it be.

As soon as Trilla's boots hit swampy dirt, she already hated this place, looking ahead to the tree line where the jungle began. Sighing as footsteps pounded behind her, she crossed her arms. "Guerra better be here."

"He will," Xur promised while Rava rolled ahead, scanning the area. "Everything is going as planned."

"What do you mean as planned?" she questioned, becoming more frustrated by her lack of information. "You still have not told me why I shouldn't expect to be shot at on sight. He hasn't seen my face, but he knows my voice…and I've uprooted his operations before."

"I'm not going to let any of them shoot you, Trilla," he assured.

"Your assurance is not good enough-,"

"Trust me, Trilla."

"I have!" she grasped his shoulder in bristling annoyance. "But despite all your words, you still do not trust me."

"I can't trust anyone with this information," he stepped forward, his expression sincere. "There are eyes everywhere…you know this. Any reveal I give to you is another chance for the Empire to uproot everything I've tried to build."

Trilla grit her teeth. "But I want to be a part of it."

"And you will," he grasped her shoulders gently. "But you're a new piece…a new player, and new assets, no matter who they are, have to prove themselves."

The words he spoke…instantly she regretted her earlier decision, one only made such a short while ago.

"Is that all I am to you? An asset?!" she growled, freeing herself from his grip.

"You're everything to me, Trilla," he promised…and she knew he was telling the truth, despite her distaste. "But I'm not the one you have to convince."

Trilla believed him, but she still was not satisfied regardless. For these people he spoke of to believe she had to earn a place at their side was intensely arrogant, not to mention presumptuous. She had never negotiated with insurgents, and even when their interests seemed to align now, they should be gracious that she would even consider to aide them. The Second Sister had killed hundreds of them by her own hand, and they were lucky she did not turn her blade against them now.

If they did not accept her, then she would not accept them.

"If they are expecting me to fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness, they will find me a most dangerous opponent," she assured.

Xur seemed to be content with that, to her surprise. "As I told you, no more apologies. If Guerra has a problem with you, I will handle it."

"If the two of you are done bickering, I suggest we move out," Rava said, her scan completed. "I'm detecting multiple heat signatures. It appears this may be the correct planet after all."

Trilla shrugged. "Ah, and we wouldn't have known that if it weren't for Rava being here, would we?"

"Kiss my ass."

"Hm," she hummed, beginning her walk with Rava rolling alongside her. "In your dreams."


Brutis growled at the sight of his old commanding officer, and he could already feel his hand twitching for his electrohammer.

"That's her…and him!" Petro shout whispered.

"For fuck sake, shut your hole," Brutis scolded. "That harpy can hear anything."

"You're the one-,"

"Shut it!"


Trilla could sense someone out there, but she did not pause, deciding to goad her observers into a foolish action…a trick she had used many times. Looking down to Rava, she spoke in Old Corellian, "Minmin senho du ecvid Ohna nin."

"Yes, I know," Rava replied, confirming.

Xur groaned. "Are you doing that because you're mad at me?"

She smirked. "Maybe."


"What the fuck did that bitch just say…" Brutis mumbled to himself, barely a whisper while he and Petro watched them from afar. "I swear if you draw her over here…"

"What the hell happened to her?" Petro asked. "She looks so…different."

"You don't even want to know, but if you open that shit-spilling mouth again, I'm going to beat your fucking ass," he warned. "Stay quiet and follow me."


Trilla blew her hair from her face in mild disappointment, stopping momentarily to turn back to Xur.

"Do you have the slightest conjecture what you're walking us into?" she asked, to which he stepped through her, looking frustrated.

"Of course I do," he spat.

The brunette mock sneezed. "Oh dear, I believe I have come down with my dreadful allergy to bullshit."

"You're fucking relentless."

Her ears perked as she detected slight movement beside them, but once again ignored. "Rava, ili Bey fermi."

"I know," Rava once again seconded.

The zabrak sighed heavily, turning back to face her. "Trilla, look, I'm sorry about all the bullshit we talked about. Now, will you please let it go?"

Her smile grew with joy at getting under his skin without even trying, or purposefully intending to, and she saved that trick for later. Although, with the current setting, she needed him in on what she was entailing as well.

"Cad olyay adate shekemir mhi, darling," she eased in Mando'a. "That's all I was telling her."

Xur grumbled, still looking upset. "Still, you're making me feel left out."

"Oh?" she narrowed her eyes. "Now you know how I feel."

Now he gasped with exhaustion, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ugh, Trilla, you're like a mental terrorist."

She giggled almost manically, reminiscent of the Second Sister. "If only I knew who you really were back in the day," she leaned in. "I would've broken you down within a week."

"I don't deny it."


Brutis kept his eyes forward, watching Trilla and Xur followed by their droid traverse the jungle, keeping his profile low to hide his large body. As a tree trunk stood in the way of his vision, however, when he regained sight of them, Trilla was no longer there.

"Shit. Kid…" he turned, and Petro was gone.

Fucked in the ass.


Petro couldn't find Trilla. She had simply disappeared after he lost sight of her for only a moment, and he was left to just staring at Xur's back as he continued to walk. Forgetting about her, he creeped forward, tired of waiting for Brutis to make up his mind about what to do.

A strong hand grabbed him by the back of his collar and pinned him against the nearby tree in a flash. It happened so quickly he barely had any time to react.

"Going somewhe-…Petro?"

His vision focused, and it was Trilla, looking upon him in shock as her right hand held him back. She was still taller than him, despite his growth spurt, but this strength seemed unnatural.

Petro chuckled to himself. "Heh…hey Trilla…nice to see you?"

The look on her face was that of intense shock, and after a few moments, a tear rolled down her face until she pulled him into a tight embrace. He felt himself slightly suffocate in her grip…but so close to her body…he blushed.

"I thought they'd get you too…" she sniffled, pulling away as she wiped her tears away. "You did as I asked?"

He was confused…Brutis had said she was an inquisitor, and she seemed to dress like one, but she had her Jedi hilt at her belt…not to mention the fact that she hugged him instead of trying to kill him.

"Y-yeah," he stammered. "I…got away. It wasn't easy…what about you?"

Trilla's face fell, before becoming somewhat hardened. "I was…not so lucky. It's a long story. How'd you get here?"

Petro cleared his throat, finding his eyes unable to look her way out of bashful embarrassment. "Ah, well…"

"With me," Brutis finished for him, emerging from the brush with his electrohammer held across his body.

Hearing his voice again, Trilla wasn't sure how to react. Her old second-in-command looked no better than he had before; a tall, now bearded human male with the hexagon pattern scar on his cheek. To say they hadn't left on the best of terms was just blatantly incorrect, and the expression he bore was certainly hostile.

And she wasn't feeling so friendly around him either.

"With you?" she echoed, dropping Petro from the tree. "You're telling me after all you had done…you adopted a youngling?" she tried not to laugh in mockery.

"Mock me all you wish, honey-tits," he growled. "I thought I told you to go fuck yourself."

"I thought you said she was an inquisitor," Petro retorted, making no movement to join him.

"Was," Trilla stated flatly, her gaze never leaving Brutis as he stepped back with distrust. "What? Scared of me?"

"You know what doesn't scare me?" he spat. "Two-faced cock suckers like you. You think you're fooling anyone with this act?

"You're a liar. A pathetic, broken whore with no other purpose other than to suck the life out of everyone around you."

Trilla's teeth grit behind her lips as her metal fist clenched, and it took everything she had not to charge forward. She had never forgotten what he had said to her on Zeffo, and she vowed to never let anyone disrespect or demean her so absolutely ever again.

"Consider your next words carefully," she shivered with rage, her gloves whining from her fists' grasp.

"Eat shit and die slow, harpy."

Enough.

She hit him with the most powerful Force push she could muster, which only made him stumble in his prepared state, but she leapt forward with her yellow blade ignited, her roar echoing through the jungle. Her blade landed at the cross section of his electrified hammer, and with a heavy grunt, Brutis shoved, his strength and force plenty to make her stumble backwards. He swung his hammer with a deep scream before bringing it down, the impact rumbling the ground as Trilla fazed out of the way. Knowing better than to kick the immovable man, she swung for the killing blow, only to see his forearm halt her own with his immense strength.

But she did not let up.

The new prosthetic power bulged his eyes in shock as she pushed up against him, her teeth threatening to crush themselves as she then began to scream from the effort. Brutis felt his beard singe as her blade approached his skin, and desperation kicked into gear. Dropping his hammer, he used his now free hand to pull her weaker left arm away and grunted beneath the strength of her right.

Knowing she had lost her advantage, she delved into the darker natures of the Force and found new strength, her eyes searing yellow as she began to push back against her Force-blind opponent.

"There it is," Brutis grimaced as her power increased. "There's that face. You haven't changed at all."

Trilla screamed in denial, freeing herself and engulfing him in force lightning that only arced from her left hand, and immediately she felt as if it had been dipped in molten carbonite. Shrieking in agony while Brutis collapsed, she fell to one knee as her mind drifted backwards, the images of everything she had suffered flashing before her in an instant.

You are mine.

"NO!" she shouted in vain, trying to retake control of her scattered brain. "No, no, no!"

You haven't changed at all.

She heaved, her crazed eyes locking on Brutis as he sat up, shaking off the paralyzing effects. "What do you know?! You could never understand! I have changed!"

When she saw the look he gave her…it wasn't smug or of mockery…it was of sadness. His eyes said it all. The demeanor he maintained was stoic and unfeeling, but beneath she sensed a deep sorrow…a terrible burden.

"Trilla!" Xur's voice snapped her out of her trance as the pain from her hand began to ebb away. She was quickly pulled into an embrace, and she accepted it fully. "What happened?" he asked, pulling away.

She saw him notice Brutis, but he said nothing, his attention fully on her answer, and she knew he needed the truth.

"I…I snapped," she admitted. "I…"

"Incoming," Rava warned, and instantly there was a massive amount of commotion, an entire platoon with the biome's camouflage emerging from all directions with blasters pointed. No one made any moves to attack, and Petro was quick to raise his hands in surrender.

"Get your fucking hands up!" the closest to them ordered, and Trilla couldn't help but notice the same insignia she had seen in the Tion Cluster…back when they had investigated the Greater Imperium. When they didn't comply immediately, Trilla probing Xur for his action, as her instinct was to get up and start hacking them all to bits.

"Relax…we're all on the same side," Xur eased, raising his hands, prompting her to do the same.

"Is that right?" another voice asked from behind, and Xur's eyes bulged with recognition. Saw Guerra held his blaster at the ready, his armored suit looking no better than it usually did as he approached. "Based off the company you keep, I'm not sure I can believe that anymore."

His stance was hostile, and Trilla was already probing the battlefield, taking note of position and possible flanking points.

"Saw, it's me," Xur urged. "The mission…remember?"

"Oh I remember," he nodded. "I also remember all the men I've lost to the Second Sister, not to mention Commander Brutis, who isn't far behind…so you better have a good reason for expecting me to trust you with her at your side."

Xur was getting frustrated, and she only prepared herself further. "She's with us now."

There were murmurs of disbelief among the men and Saw made no move to stand down. "She doesn't look like she is."

"Saw, if I wanted to, I could get up and kill every single one of you," he assured, and blasters only shifted closer. "You know I could…but I'm not. I'm telling you."

He had backed Saw into a corner, she could tell, as the battered insurgent knew he was telling the truth about his capabilities…and he hadn't even seen what the zabrak had done on Ordo Eris.

"Sir let's just shoot them and be done with it," the soldier beside him suggested, and Trilla knew better than to open her mouth.

"No one is shooting Xur Eon," Saw proclaimed, and then seemed to back down. "You're coming with us, but everyone else is getting binders."

Trilla could feel his sparking rage at having her submit to more chains, and she grabbed his shoulder in assurance. "It's alright…I'll do it…for you."

Xur still didn't seem to like it, but he sighed. "Fine…" he accepted, but raised his finger as soldiers moved in. "But if she is harmed, undignified or sullied in any way, you'll answer to me…and I promise you, you will regret it."

Saw gave the signal. "Take them away."

Before Trilla submitted to her bonds, he embraced her tightly once more, and whispered, "If they hurt you, you know how to call me."

Trilla leaned into his ear as she kept her arms wrapped around him. "I know…and they won't. I love you."

"I love you too."

Once they pulled away, a soldier presented the binders and clipped them over her wrists, while also taking her blade from her belt. She wanted to crush his skull simply for that, but she had to trust in Xur…she had to give him the time he needed.

Even if she didn't know for what.


This one was kind of all over the place, but hope it was easy to follow. We're in the great game now. Power moves are incoming…

Stay healthy and stay rational. Thanks for staying with this story through these tumultuous times in our world. I shall continue to keep you entertained while we all hide in our homes.

Thanks for reading. See y'all soon.