Fourteen
Imperial Base, Telos
13 ATC
The door opened, and Quinn stepped into the room. The calming effects of A'tro's meditative breathing were immediately dashed as her heart rate spiked at the sight of him.
He bowed formally. "You wished to see me, my lord?" His tone was cordial, attentively obedient without seeming obsequious. He was good at that.
A'tro kept her face impassive despite the sensation that some sort of cyclone was forming inside her stomach. She used the Force to lock the door; this was not the sort of conversation she wanted interrupted.
"Yes, I did," she replied. "However, I have more important matters to discuss than your thoughts on the battle."
Quinn was frustratingly hard to read, even in the Force, but as his posture stiffened in response to her words, she caught a distinct note of fear.
"Relax," A'tro told him. "This isn't an interrogation." Or an execution. I can't believe I even considered that.
He frowned slightly. "I must admit to some confusion."
"That's understandable. I probably could have handled this better," she admitted. There was no turning back, however. "I would like to revisit our conversation on Voss."
It was clear that Quinn immediately knew what she was referring to, as his face abruptly lost all traces of expression.
A'tro weighed her options for a moment, then decided to plunge forward. "I made a critical error in my handling of the situation, and for that I—"
The next two words were ones that she had uttered only a handful of times in her thirty years of life, and they nearly stuck in her throat. After a moment of struggle, she managed, in a voice barely above a whisper: "I apologize."
Quinn's frown returned with a vengeance. "My lord, please, this is entirely unnecessary. I overstepped, and you responded appropriately."
"I disagree."
There was a long moment of silence.
"I—" Quinn started, then stopped, his eyes going to the floor. "My lord, I have duties to attend to," he said quietly.
"You may leave once I've said my piece," A'tro said. She was surprised by how calm she was. "When we talked on Voss, I was distracted by my recent experience in the Nightmare Lands. I wasn't thinking clearly, and that led me to respond poorly to your inquiry. Were we to have that conversation again, however, I believe that I would respond in the affirmative."
Quinn's eyes went very wide. "I'm not certain I understand."
"Ending our relationship was a mistake," A'tro said bluntly. "Reassigning you was also a mistake. I cannot continue to deny that I have feelings for you, Quinn. What you choose to do with this information is up to you, but I felt it best to be honest."
Was that a blush creeping across his pale cheeks? "My lord," he said—always the title, it was starting to annoy her— "You are putting me in a very uncomfortable position."
"I realize that."
"With all due respect, I'm not sure you do." He stopped, mouth tightening. "Permission to speak freely?"
A'tro wished he would loosen up a bit; it would make the whole affair less awkward. "Of course."
Quinn put his hands behind his back, falling into parade rest. "There are several factors that need to be addressed." He became the image of clinical analysis. "First, and I believe foremost, I attempted to assassinate you. I believed that to be the reason for my reassignment, but it seems I was mistaken."
A'tro raised a brow-ridge. "A reasonable conclusion to draw. I don't see the issue."
Quinn looked at the wall. "My lord, I tried to kill you. That constitutes a rather severe breach of trust."
A'tro shrugged. "Given that you were acting on Baras' orders, I have always held him responsible, not you. When I killed him, my desire for revenge was sated and I put the entire affair out of my mind. Besides, you more than made up for it with your excellent performance on Corellia."
"I'm flattered." He returned his gaze to her. "There is…something else."
A'tro nodded. "You may speak your mind, Quinn. Whatever you might say, I give you my word that I will not retaliate with violence. Or by any other means; your career has suffered enough at the hands of pettiness."
"That was not my concern, my lord," he said, though a thread of relief spiraled through his Force presence. "I was not expecting to have this conversation. I'm uncertain of how best to say what I wish to express."
"Take your time. This is important."
"I'm well aware of that," he murmured. "Which leads me to my next point: that you are important. You are a symbol, an example to the entire Empire, and I cannot think of a better one. I am not entirely ignorant of the workings of Sith politics, however, and I know that your status makes you a target. A romantic partner would be powerful ammunition for your enemies to use against you."
"I've considered that. Particularly since it's the argument you made against becoming involved with me in the first place."
"It is a valid argument, my lord."
"Should I be reading into the fact that you're making it rather than rejecting me outright?" A'tro inquired, hope fluttering just out of reach of cynicism's dark clutches.
Quinn was definitely blushing, now. "My feelings for you have not changed. In the greater scheme of things, however, they also don't matter."
A'tro swallowed hard. "Quinn, if you want me, there is no power in the universe that should keep us apart."
He scowled at the floor. "I am trying to be rational."
"So am I," she retorted. "Think about it. I'm one of the strongest Sith the Empire has seen in decades, if not centuries. You are a brilliant, gifted military commander. Together, we'd be invincible."
"Invincible on the battlefield, perhaps. Not to an assassin in the dead of night."
"What are you trying to say?" she demanded. "Should we deny ourselves out of fear of what might happen? Is that what you want?"
"No," Quinn said softly. "No, that is not what I want."
A'tro put her hands on her hips. "Then it seems to me that we should give this another try."
"It's not that simple," Quinn snapped, speaking with more emotion than A'tro had ever heard him use before. "You are a Sith Lord. As an Imperial citizen, I am obligated by law to obey you. I do so willingly, as I believe in the principles of the Empire, but those principles are not a solid foundation for a healthy romantic relationship."
A'tro stood silently, stunned.
"I care for you a great deal," Quinn said, his voice going brittle at the last few words. "But your obligations as a Sith led you to terminate our involvement once. It could happen again. I do not wish to live in a state of perpetual uncertainty where my emotional investment could be compromised on a whim."
He stopped speaking quite abruptly, as though suddenly regretting his words.
So that's what's been bothering him, A'tro realized.
It made sense. It made an abundant amount of sense.
And she had no idea how to convince him that he didn't have to worry about it.
"I wish I had more than my word to give you that I will not repeat my previous mistake," she said quietly. "Were we to resume our relationship, I would treat you with respect, as an equal. I don't intend to take any of this lightly."
Quinn said nothing.
"I believe in honor," A'tro said. "In loyalty. You've seen my loyalty to the Empire. I would extend the same level of dedication to you. The events of the past year have taught me a valuable lesson about thinking before acting, and I promise that I will never again act without consideration where you are concerned."
I love you, she almost said, but she didn't want to drop that mass driver of a phrase just then. It would surely be too much. The feeble words she'd already offered would have to be enough.
Quinn hesitated. Then he hesitated some more. The silence stretched out like a wire, tenser and tenser. Her heart plummeted so fast she thought she could feel it burning.
He cleared his throat. "I can't say no to you."
A'tro's heart reversed its trajectory. "Does that mean…you're willing to try?"
"Yes, though I am not certain how to proceed from here," he admitted. "We are, after all, in the middle of a war."
"Well," A'tro said breathlessly, "You could start by kissing me, and we'll see how it goes from there."
He was standing across the room, which was small, but even so it seemed that A'tro only blinked and he was right there in front of her, so close she could feel his warmth. And then his hands were on either side of her face, tentatively tracing the ridges on her cheeks with gloved fingertips, and she stood on her toes to bring herself closer because she was so frustratingly short. He bent down and brushed his lips across hers, slow and hesitant, letting them reacquaint themselves, then joined them together, intent and yearning but still gentle.
When they drew apart several long moments later, A'tro was smiling uncontrollably, and she didn't particularly care.
Quinn, by contrast, looked almost somber, but his face was flushed and his eyes were burning with something that was definitely not sadness. "That was— My lord—"
"No," A'tro interrupted. "No titles. We're going to do this properly. I want you to use my name. Only privately, of course, but still."
"That will take some getting used to, but I'll do my best."
"Good," A'tro said firmly. "I meant what I said about treating you as an equal."
"In the interests of fairness, then, I believe perhaps you ought to call me Malavai," Quinn murmured.
A'tro grinned broadly. "Very well, Malavai."
Quinn's blush deepened. "This is not how I expected this day to turn out."
"Me neither," A'tro said wryly. Her smile faded slightly. "I have a feeling that making this work will require many more serious conversations, however."
"Given our present circumstances, I believe that will have to wait."
A'tro nodded. "Let's go focus on conquering this planet, then."
Quinn smiled. It was a small smile, and a bit solemn, but A'tro could see its truth in his eyes and feel it in the Force. "That seems a prudent course of action. To start, I believe you may be interested in my analysis of the recent battle…"
