Twenty-Five

The Citadel, Dromund Kaas

14 ATC

A'tro gripped the railing of the balcony tightly, staring out over the dark jungle as if it held the answers to the questions she had been asking herself over and over. The cloud cover was unusually thin, letting the occasional ray of light slip through to paint the gnarled treetops red as the sun sank steadily towards the horizon. As she watched, a flock of avians rose up from the canopy and fluttered a ways before settling back down under the cover of the leaves.

The lights of Kaas City were a dull glow in her peripheral vision. The ordinary citizenry would be heading home, as curfew was not long after sunset. At night, the streets belonged to the military, the police, and the Sith.

This was what she fought for, wasn't it? The people of Kaas City could go home at night and feel safe and content knowing that they were a part of the galaxy's greatest civilization. To her, the Empire was an ideal: the ultimate manifestation of order, of society evolved to the perfection of an intricate machine with no part out of place. She had killed and bled for that ideal, and she had done so proudly.

Only now did she realize that it had all been a lie.

A'tro felt the Force shift as a familiar presence entered the apartment and made its way towards her. Quinn was back from the front. That was good. She needed to talk to someone rational, and there was surely no one in the galaxy more rational than her husband.

There were also few, if any, more loyal to the Empire. Surely he, of all people, would understand.

The door to the balcony slid open, then closed again, and a moment later he was standing beside her. He laid his gloved hands on the railing, close enough to hers to be intimate, but far enough to not be presumptuous. A year together wasn't nearly enough to overcome the ingrained understanding that he must be wary and respectful of a Sith at all times.

"Welcome back," A'tro said, still watching the jungle. Her voice seemed to belong to someone else.

"Thank you. I—" Quinn broke off as she turned to look at him, his brow contracting into a frown. "Forgive me, but you don't look at all well."

It had been four days since she had gone with Nox to Baras' chambers. She hadn't slept in all that time. "I suppose I'm not," she admitted.

His frown deepened. "What's happened?"

A small, hollow laugh tumbled unbidden from her lips. "You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Quinn hesitated for a moment, then moved one hand to rest on top of hers. "You know I will do whatever I can to assist you, if you wish it."

His earnestness was so endearing that A'tro almost managed to smile. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Malavai."

He blushed a little at that. "I'm sure you would be fine, my love."

Those two small words were enough to coax a smile out of her in full force, but it quickly faded as she reflected on what to do next.

Should she tell him? Quinn was a patriot, more devoted to the Empire than most people she'd ever known. If this revelation had shaken her, how would he react? Would he even believe her?

The darkest corner of her memory stirred.

If you stand with Baras, you stand against the Emperor himself.

The Emperor is an absentee landlord. Baras is doing what any real patriot would do.

She should have listened.

He was still looking at her with unveiled concern. A'tro took a deep breath, collected her thoughts, and made her decision.

"I've learned something," she said softly. "I didn't want to believe it, but the evidence turned out to be irrefutable."

She told him about the recording Baras had left for her. She told him how she had spent the past four days scouring Baras' archives, retracing his steps as he pieced together the data from history, from his spies, and came to the only possible conclusion. Throughout it all, Quinn listened silently, meeting her eyes unwaveringly, his hand still resting atop hers on the balcony rail as the sky grew dark beyond them.

"Many years ago," A'tro said, "Darth Thanaton came to the Dark Council and told them of the secret Children of the Emperor. He drew too close to the truth, and in the end, he was silenced. Baras speculated that Darth Jadus knew the Emperor's secret as well, and he has vanished from the face of the galaxy. This changes everything, but I find I have no choice but to accept it: in time, our own Emperor will seek to destroy us all."

She fell silent, watching Quinn for a reaction.

"Much of this is beyond the scope of my understanding," he said slowly, after a long pause. "I am no Sith, after all. But one thing seems clear: all those who have gained this knowledge have disappeared, or been killed outright. I find myself deeply concerned for your safety."

A'tro blinked. "I just told you that the founder of our entire civilization likely sees us only as a potential energy source, and you're worried about me?"

"My loyalty is to the Empire and its ideals," Quinn said fiercely. "Not the Emperor himself. If you believe we should oppose him, I will do so without hesitation. I can live in a galaxy without an Emperor. I do not wish to live in one without you."

"I, ah," A'tro fumbled for sufficient words in the face of that declaration. "I suppose you took it better than I did, then," she mumbled lamely.

He looked a bit embarrassed at that. "I'm sorry. This must be very difficult for you."

"Honestly? It's the most difficult thing I've ever faced."

"I can't imagine what you must be going through."

"Talking to you has made me feel better." His willingness to accept what she'd said had already made the future seem brighter.

Quinn perked up. "I'm pleased I could be of assistance."

A'tro nodded. "What you said a moment ago, about opposing the Emperor…is that what you think we should do?"

"Absolutely," Quinn said firmly. "If we have foreknowledge of the enemy's plans, it would be foolhardy not to prepare. Secretly, of course, but I do not think we should sit idly by and do nothing."

The enemy. The Sith Emperor was the enemy.

That would take some getting used to.

"I'm not sure what we can do," A'tro said. "We need more support. The rest of the Dark Council…I don't know what they know. But Darth Nox might be willing to do something."

"I cannot speak for the Sith, obviously. But the military seems to have a very favorable opinion of you, thanks to your efforts in the war. That should prove useful."

"Hmm." A'tro raised a brow-ridge. "I ought to have you promoted."

Quinn frowned. "We've discussed this. I wish to earn my rank on merit, not as a side benefit of our relationship."

"I understand that, but the fact remains that if not for your extended stay on Balmorra, you would doubtless be placed far higher than you are now. Can't I make up for that?"

"I know better than to argue with you when you have that look in your eye."

A'tro snickered. "Only you would try to convince a Sith not to reward you for your exceptional service."

"There are too many officers who are more concerned with advancing their own careers than with furthering Imperial goals," Quinn grumbled. "It's unacceptable, and I will not be one of them."

A'tro smiled cajolingly. "And if you let me, I can put you in a position to do something about that sooner rather than later."

"You'd make me a Moff if I let you."

"I absolutely would. You're far more capable than most of the ones we already have."

Quinn shook his head. "I'll leave that up to my superiors to decide."

"You're so stubborn," A'tro said fondly. She sighed. "I should go speak with Nox."

"You should rest. You told me you haven't slept in four days."

"Purebloods don't need as much sleep as humans. I'm fine."

"I must respectfully disagree," Quinn said in his most even and rational voice. "You should sleep for at least a few hours."

He could convince her of anything with that voice, and they both knew it.

"Fine," A'tro sighed. "Nox can wait. Just…thank you. For listening."

Quinn inclined his head deferentially. "Whatever happens, I will follow you."