:: Chapter Fourteen ::

A soft, blue light lit up the side of his face not covered in scars, or concealed by a mask, as the boy Prince turned Emperor only paid half a mind to the man addressing him via holo. His good eye narrowed on the Anomid scientist but his thoughts took him elsewhere.

Someone, soon to be dead, had dared break into his vault to free and take the Outlander, his most prized possession. The only one to know what had transpired between him and his father and Arcann could not be certain of the confessions made by the Outlander to her rescuers. Who knew what now, and who might be plotting against him?

Arcann decided to interrupt the endless droning of the scientist, "And how fares father's little pet project?"

"Oh, well, we're making decent progress though, fine tuning the correct dosage free of side effects is still a challenge—judging by the screams, it often comes paired with much pain and torment still.

"Fortunately, the test subject your father sent has proven quite resilient. The heart stopped only once and last week's third degree burns have already healed. A remarkable specimen I must say, so robust, rare, unique among his kind."

"Hmph, very well. Get on with it," Arcann snarled.

"Yes, of course, Emperor Arcann." The scientist's holo-image bowed its head and disappeared.

A low, mechanical sounding sigh escaped Arcann and once again his thoughts took him to the Outlander, or rather, her rescuers and he began replaying the surveillance footage for the hundredth time. He paused it, as he always did, on the moment where the red-haired woman in black had taken the younger ginger in her arms and a flash of purple energy had exploded between the two.

"Who are you, what did you do?" he muttered to himself.

"Staring at pictures of your girlfriend again?" Vaylin teased when she marched into the throne room, "do you miss her that much, dear brother?"

He switched the footage off. "The Outlander knew our secret, Vaylin."

"Yes, yes, I know and now there's a chance all of Zakuul will find out what you did. Oh the shame!" she made a dramatic exclaim and cackled.

"Do you bring any news?"

"Hmm no. The Knights lost their trail shortly after leaving Zakuul but don't worry, I personally saw to their punishment."

Vaylin floated the recording device into her hand and toyed with it, turning it back on. "What do you suppose that big flash of light was?"

"I'm not sure…" Arcann mused, "but, I sensed father's essence in the vault afterward."

"Father? Well, he did always love his tricks. Do you suppose he's survived somehow?"

"Perhaps…"

"And do we know yet who this mystery woman of yours is?"

"No, but I have ordered both the Republic and the Empire to run her image through their database and report back. We'll know, soon, and then the hunt begins."

"That was a beautiful service, I didn't realize Jedi upheld their own funeral traditions." Nyssa lamented when she and Theron returned to their room.

"They do." His thoughts took him back to the day they'd buried Master Zho. "It's rare they allow a Force-blind, or anyone not Jedi, to observe the ceremony but I would say this was a unique situation, in Kira's honor."

"Eliza's kept rather brave in all this…"

"Mm."

Nyssa blew out a silent sigh and watched him while he sat down behind his desk and plugged his datapad into the console to run his daily scan of Republic records for anything noteworthy.

"Theron… can we talk, please?" she asked, at last, gathering what little courage she had to address those things that had been bothering her.

The more she'd thought about it over the past days, the more she'd begun to question their marriage. Or rather, her husband's commitment to their marriage. He hadn't been himself and though she hadn't wanted to see it at first, blaming the accident instead, in truth he hadn't been himself since the day they'd arrived on Rishi.

She recalled the moment he'd woken up and asked for Eliza. Nyssa had told herself it was merely because Eliza had saved him, Eliza's face had been the last he'd seen but now she doubted, strongly. She became more convinced something else was at play and reminded herself of the many occasions where she'd caught him staring at Eliza, smiling for Eliza while ignoring her and a part of her felt foolish for ever having thought he was merely happy to have his friend back.

'The one who got away,' Jonas' words had begun plaguing her once again and she saw the truth of it now, each time Eliza and Theron were in the same room.

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

"Are you still in love with Eliza?" Nyssa took the direct approach, seeing no point in beating around the bush.

Theron froze. His jaw stiffened and he swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks and suddenly looking like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Instinct urged him to say no, to deny the mere possibility while telling himself he was sparing her feelings but he knew Nyssa deserved better than that. He knew she was no fool and the fact she asked him this now, meant she already knew the answer.

"Yes," he admitted though he did not turn to look at her.

Nyssa closed her eyes, her arms wrapping around herself and she clutched her elbows, nodding. "Will you ever get over her?"

"I thought I was…" It sounded like a lame excuse but for him, it was the truth.

"Until you saw her again," Nyssa finished the sentence for him. "What about me, do you love me?"

Now, he finally spun around and looked at her, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "I do, of course I do."

"But it's not enough?"

"It's… again, I thought it was. I married you because I do love you, I have loved you all this time."

A wry chuckle escaped Nyssa and she sat down on her side of their bed. "I had to ask you, Theron. Not once, not twice but three times over did I propose before you finally said yes. That alone should have clued me in.

"I fooled myself into thinking you were just one of those loner guys terrified of commitment or making it official. That you had cold feet throughout our entire relationship and just needed a little push but now I know—you never got over her."

She sunk her face into the palms of her hands and fought hard to keep her tears and anger at bay.

"I never wanted this to happen, Nyssa. When you and I met I honestly fell for you. Perhaps not right away but over time, with each date, each moment spent together, my feelings for you became more intense," he tried to explain. "And Eliza…

"I thought I'd gotten over her. As time went by, I thought of her less and less and I was happy with our relationship, with what you and I had built."

"You're not anymore though, are you?" Nyssa asked, "The past weeks you've been distant, cold. Absent minded. Half the time you don't even seem to notice me and these fits of jealousy… I've never seen you like that before."

"I'm sorry." Theron walked over and went to sit down beside her.

Nyssa, however, jumped away fast as if the bed itself had caught fire and she needed to save herself. Protect herself, now, from him and his touch, from the look in his eyes.

He sighed. "I've been agonizing over this for weeks trying to figure out what I feel, how I feel. Trying to figure out what to say and do. I don't want to hurt you, ever."

"You already have."

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"Don't," Nyssa said and waved him off, "don't apologize to me now Theron. Just tell me one thing, I have to know—has anything happened between you two, since seeing her again on Rishi?"

"No. We haven't, no. The only thing… I almost kissed her a few weeks ago but she pulled away and left, and that's it. I haven't cheated on you."

"Oh, but you have." Misery and sorrow now rang clear in Nyssa's voice. "Emotionally, and in your heart, you have.

"You know, I almost would have preferred it if you'd just slept with her without actually harboring any feelings for her? Almost."

Nyssa paced in a circle, rolling her shoulders every so often and blowing out deep breaths while Theron sat in silence. He wanted to apologize but she'd told him not to. He wanted to explain but every word sounded like a pathetic excuse in his own mind, a way of shirking the responsibility for his own part in all this.

"My sister just moved to Corellia," Nyssa said at last, "their Medical Center is in dire need of nurses. They're even offering advancement courses for free, on top of a regular pay."

"That sounds worthwhile." Theron already sensed where she was going with this and she confirmed it seconds later.

"I think I'm going to go stay with her for a while." She turned around and looked at him. "There's no hope for us, is there? You'll always love her more, no matter what we do?"

He closed his eyes and nodded. "I will, and you deserve better."

"Does she know?"

"No, I don't think so."

"And if she doesn't feel the same way?"

"I don't know if she does, or doesn't, but it doesn't matter Nyssa, not where you and I are concerned."

"No," Nyssa confirmed, her heart heavy, "No, it doesn't. You're right, I do deserve better than this, than to be stuck in a marriage, alone. I'll file for a divorce when I get to Corellia."

'Stuck in a marriage alone,' the comment stung Theron but he knew it was deserved. "I will slice into your records and alter your status so you're no longer listed as a traitor. Get you a clean slate."

"Stars…" Nyssa had forgotten all about the reason they'd fled Coruscant in the first place. "Yes, that'd be helpful."

"I uh," she said next and pulled a bag out from under the bed to start packing, "I'll see if I can bunk with Jenna for the next few nights until I leave."

"Right, of course. Or I can leave if you'd prefer." He stood uncomfortably, unsure of what to do next.

A part of him wanted to hold her and comfort her while another part of him still ached to apologize further. He didn't know whether to stay or go and in case of the latter, he had no idea how to say goodbye.

Nyssa packed at record speed, though, and by the time Theron had wrestled through the duality of his thoughts, she already stood at the door.

"Stay, you've got your workstation here and… I'd rather be with a friend right now." She gave him a melancholic smile and disappeared.

She clutched her bag as though her life depended on it and hurried along the corridors, resenting the fact the majority of living quarters were built at the other end of the complex. Nyssa fought to keep a brave face and stormed through the cantina, desperate to reach Jenna's room.

"Alright, Koth, what is it?" Eliza had granted his request for an audience in the war room and only hoped he'd not again start singing Valkorion's praises.

"During our escape from Zakuul, my scanners picked up on something and since then, I've done a little diggin'," he started explaining and pulled up a projection model of a massive looking starship, "this, is the Gravestone!"

"It's ugly."

Lana smiled. "Let him finish."

"Sorry. Okay, the Gravestone, and?" Eliza forced herself to show interest.

"The Gravestone is a massive, and ancient, warship. The only ship to ever go up against the Eternal Fleet and win," Koth said excitedly, "I mean, people have been searching for this thing for years and most believed it to be a myth! But there she is, sitting idle in the Endless Swamp!"

"The only ship to ever win? You've got my attention, what do you want to do?"

"I want to head out to the Endless Swamp and see this baby with my own eyes, check on her condition, see if she can be fixed. The Gravestone would be a huge asset to the Alliance, I'm sure of it."

Eliza grinned at Lana and teased, "Looks like your boyfriend found himself a mistress."

"Can you be serious?" Lana didn't appear all that amused.

"Sorry, again," she apologized, "Have your pick of a team, Koth. At the very least we should find out if this ship still has any use, I suppose."

"I don't need a team, Commander, just your permission. Havoc Squad is still out in the Swamps dealing with refugees, I'd ask their assistance."

"That works. You have my approval but keep in touch and let me know the state of this Gravestone." Eliza nodded. "Are you going with him, Lana?"

"Yes, I will be, if you can spare me for a few days?"

"Yeah, sure. We should be fine here unless Valkorion manages to take over my physical being after all and decides to use my powers to burn the whole base down," she deadpanned and once more met Lana's scowl.

"Okay, fine, not funny, I know."

"Perhaps I shouldn't leave…" Lana began but Eliza waved her off.

"No, go, we'll be fine honestly."

In truth, she'd prefer having fewer people around right now, fewer people fussing over her. Between the unwelcome guest in her mind, Kira's death and all her personal struggles, she felt suffocated. The only thing their constant concern did was make it harder on her to stay brave, laugh, joke and wear a smile for armor.

Eliza made a few notes on her datapad before turning to the elevator and heading back upstairs. She stopped by the cantina and picked up a tray for dinner but Ravage snuck up behind her and snatched it away.

"Hey!"

"Not tonight, I've got something far better for you."

She quirked a brow in amusement, letting her eyes travel down his body and he smirked when he noticed. "No, not that. Come."

"Pity," Eliza teased and followed him to her room and out onto the balcony, finding the last thing she'd ever expected.

Before her stood a small, circular dining table and two chairs, both done up with fancy cloth and drapery. A vase with a single malreaux rose sat in the center of the table and small string lights ran along the balcony railings. To the side was a dining cart, keeping their meal warm and while the sight awoke some flutters in her heart, she frowned too.

"You… did all this, for me?"

"No, I thought the Sleens down below might appreciate a three-course dinner." He rolled his eyes and pulled out a chair for her. "Yes for you."

"Ravage… I thought we'd agreed, no romance."

"Will you shut up and just let me spoil you? Sit."

Her lips pursed and she clearly hesitated.

"Please."

Eliza swallowed a sigh and grimaced, pushing her doubt aside to accept his offer while Ravage poured out two glasses of wine and sat down opposite Eliza. She observed him, curiously, taking the smallest of sips of her wine while letting her mind wander.

"So, did you cook for me as well?"

"Mm no, but I oversaw every detail as the cook prepared your favorite, does that count?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, it counts."

"Are you hungry?"

"Just a bit."

Ravage got back up and brought the dining cart closer, serving up dinner. "What did Vortena want?"

"Oh, his scanners picked up on some old warship said to have been the only ship to ever win against the Eternal Fleet. He wants to go check it out so I'm letting him."

"That easy huh?"

"Well, it gets him out of our hair for a few days and that alone makes it worthwhile." Eliza grinned and looked down at her plate. "This is, amazing, thank you."

"Try it," he encouraged, "I still need to let the cook know whether he gets to keep his head or not."

"You'd kill a man simply because he overcooked my steak?" She cut into the meat and sampled it. "It's good, very good," she added and took another sip of her wine.

Ravage sat back, paying little mind to his dinner and focusing more on her enjoyment. A tiny droplet of Alderaanian red lingered on her bottom lip and it took all his restraint not to lean over the table and kiss it away. He longed for her, felt it ache in every fiber of his being.

"You're staring," Eliza pointed out when she caught him.

"Can you blame me?"

The question hung between them but she didn't answer. Instead, she dabbed her mouth with her napkin and got up, her fingers gliding over the balcony railings as she took to admiring the view.

Far in the distance, she could see one of Odessen's waterfalls sparkle as it reflected the moon's light. A gentle breeze carried the faintest sounds of rushing water and nightlife creatures all the way to where she stood and Ravage's arms wrapped around her middle when he came up behind her.

"You're making this very hard on me," she confessed, resting her head back on his shoulder.

A devious smirk curled his lips and he pressed into her, making her aware of the arousal she'd stirred. "Likewise."

"Wining and dining me, taking care of me and my daughter," she carried on, trying to ignore what she felt both from him and within herself.

His lips found the nape of her neck and his hand traveled down her stomach, dipping down the front of her leatheris pants until he found her sweet spot.

"... Saving my, mmm… life…" She gasped and closed her eyes, quickly growing wanting under his touch.

It wasn't just his touch though that got her weak in the knees right now—it was everything. She felt he'd changed, ever since their argument after leaving Tython. He'd grown kinder, to her, and more supportive than he'd ever been. He'd opened up in a way she would never have expected and while none of it was enough to steal her heart, her affections towards him had grown.

"Making you scream," he countered in a whisper, his teeth nipping at her earlobe while he ran his other hand up inside her shirt to cup one of her breasts.

"T-take… me… inside…" A moan escaped her lips and she struggled to utter anything coherent now.

Ravage spun her around and while they exchanged feverish kisses, he began urging her toward the bed leaving a trail of clothing articles in their wake. Desperate sighs and cries of pleasure escaped into the quiet night, and silken sheets crinkled underneath their lustful exchange. Her fingernails clawed at his back while he devoured her lips and dominated her desires, laying claim to every inch of her body until they were both sated and spent.

Following the standard she'd set, Ravage withdrew after several minutes of lingering in her embrace, recovering his strength. To his surprise, however, Eliza took his hand before he got up and smiled, a fluster of delight still warm on her cheeks.

"Markus…" she spoke his true name for the first time in all the years they'd known each other, "stay."