AN: Hello All! I apologize for taking so long with this. I will keep updating as I get ideas, but this may cause some very sporadic updating to say the least.
That being said, I have loved hearing from everyone and was so pleased to get such a positive response with the last chapter - please feel free to email me with prompts you would like me to explore as we go on this fun little adventure together. I have a general idea of what sort of little plot moments I'd like to detail but the more merrier :)
Thanks again for all your support - you have all been wonderful.
I hope you enjoy!
~ Voi
It was his eyes that intrigued her most.
Her lips curled into a smile, as she glanced at him from where she was seated. He was so very proper, her Imperial Captain, mindful of protocol and rules that the Sith had little use for. Even now he acted as if that night had never happened, as if they had not surrendered control and found the chaotic power that came with being with another person. His eyes had been so expressive then, now they remained so collected it was near unbearable.
Except that it was almost like he didn't see what she was doing at all, and that made it interesting, intriguing even.
He might now know it yet, but she was a picky woman, had very particular tastes and he was one of only a handful that had ever intrigued her enough to spend the time.
And she wanted to know him, understand him better than even interesting little Vette, with her twi'lek anger and desire for a family. It was intoxicating to know someone better than they knew themselves, and the compulsion to do just that left her near delirious with wanting.
It was this trait Baras had found of particularly pleasing, her near desperate need to understand and dissect. Power and anger were things many Sith apprentices had in some meaningful measure, but to apply just the right force to make someone do as willed was a power all its own.
Perhaps that was why she found Nar Shaddaa so ideal. A planet full of people who so willingly exposed their lives for a few hours of forgetfulness, to gorge themselves on alcohol, sex and anything else that money could buy.
Perfection incarnate.
Exhaling slowly as her mouth curled into a smile, Jurhe surveyed the room for the hundredth time. Taking a long, lazy sip of her drink, she turned her attention back to her Captain and grinned all the wider. She found his displeasure of Nar Shaddaa amusing, absolutely fascinating actually since he had seemed so very comfortable at the bar back on Balmora.
"Something on your mind, Captain?" She settled her delicate glass on the table, "You haven't stopped frowning since we arrived. How are we ever going to get information if you keep looking like you stepped in the remnants of a Hutt's dinner?"
His whole body turned as he turned to look at her, eyes focusing on her with the undivided attention he gave to those of her caste. It would have been flattering if he didn't look at Baras with that exact same dedication.
Jurhe didn't really enjoy being jealous but neither could she say she had experienced it much before. Thus the sensation was novel, at least right now.
"I apologize, my lord, it was not my intent to put you at a disadvantage. Perhaps…"He stopped himself short, "Permission to speak freely, my lord."
"You need never ask for permission, Quinn. Just say what is on your mind. Though I am curious…"
Jurhe frowned as the question dawned on her. And because she was Sith, with all the impulsive nature and brazen honesty of one, she asked, "Was it your mother or your father that instilled such a sense of duty?"
Eyeing him with frank curiosity, the young Sith watched him from her place, "It really is quite extraordinary."
"It was my father, my lord." Looking distinctly uncomfortable, Quinn answered the question as succinctly as possible.
"Rymar Quinn, of course, makes sense." saying the name aloud, the young sith smiled as her companion jumped in surprise at the name, at her knowledge. It was amusing to see his honest expression a split second before he wrested it back under his control.
"He died rather young though, didn't he?" Half talking to herself, half talking to the drink in front of her, it seemed for a moment as if Quinn wasn't there at all.
"Young but left an impression. An Imperial Colonel with the last name Quinn…I do believe I remember mother mentioning him once. I really should ask her again…" Humming to herself, Jurhe turned to look down at her robes, her pockets, as she fished about for her holocommunicator.
"Mother does know everything about everyone. Always with the files…and files…and files."
It was always fun getting in contact with mother, fun and a little disconcerting because the woman always knew the who, what and where of her latest mission. Growing up it had been impossible to get away with anything, and so Jurhe had learned to be nothing if not completely honest. It saved time on scolding and punishment.
It also meant that she punished traitors and those that dealt in betrayal with a single minded ruthlessness that elevated her cruelty to whole new levels of icy terror. The Lady Gratham and her son had learned that the hard way when they sent assassins to take care of her in the hangar bay.
She could still hear the woman's screams as she had disemboweled them both. It had been a very long time since she had done that, and part of her almost wished it happened more often.
Tapping in the proper code to link up, Jurhe barely had time to set down her drink before the comm flickered to life and her mother's image materialized between the two of them.
A regal woman who was only now beginning to show the signs of age, she bore herself with an unquestionable strength and a directness that was easily echoed in her daughter.
Dressed in the long robes of a diplomat, she had looked around for only a moment before she addressed her daughter with a briskness that bellied a lifetime of giving orders.
"First thing first, Darling. Get us somewhere secure will you?" Glancing at Quinn, the older woman nodded, "You as well, Captain, come along."
It should have been impossible to find any place remotely considered private, never mind secure, but the glowing image directed them both through the cantina and down several stairwells until they found themselves staring at a door with a multi-sensory lock system.
"Mother?"
"Step up to it, Jurhe dear. It will recognize you."
Watching mother and daughter converse was perhaps the strangest and most intriguing thing that had happened to Quinn since he had decided to join up. The sensual and dangerous Sith Lord seemed suddenly more like a young woman, like someone's daughter.
And he had slept with this particular woman's daughter.
Quinn swallowed hard, returning to the event at hand just as introductions were being made. And though he wondered whether or not to remain standing in the presence of a Sith Lords mother, he found himself unceremoniously pushed into a chair by the impatient Sith Lord herself.
"Quinn, this is my mother, Lady Jheben." Shifting on the couch, Quinn watched as Jurhe smiled and gestured to the holo, "Mother this…"
"I know who he is darling." Jheben interrupted her daughter but her tone was light, eyes knowing as she turned to look at him.
"Malavai Quinn, thirty seven years old, born in Kaas City to an Ensign Rymar Quinn and Lady Laveria Renk. Oldest of three I believe."
"Three?"
Quinn could hear Jurhe's surprise but remained focused, attention fixed, on Jheben. There was something strangely familiar about this woman, a familiarity that extended past mere resemblance to his current master.
It seemed likely he knew her from his stint in Imperial Intelligence, diplomats such as Lady Jheben were usually milling about the complex waiting for important political information before venturing to their various posts.
"Indeed." Jheben answered her daughter with an amused smile, "His younger sister is an acolyte for the prestigious Darth Occlus."
The reaction from the young Sith woman was immediate, and Quinn felt his blood stir at the growl that heated the air.
"You're talking about Florian aren't you?" Jurhe looked suddenly sullen, "You always use his 'official' name whenever you're trying to remind me to work hard."
"And have you been working hard my darling?"
Her mother asked the question but her tone suggested she already knew the answer. It was no unheard of for high ranking Sith to have command of formidable information networks, but there was something in the way she said it that made Quinn hesitate. The fact that his new Sith master was also the sibling of one of the Dark Council's newest members was however impossible to ignore.
"Pardon the interruption, but I find I must clarify a detail." He paused for a second as he gathered his thoughts, "You mentioned that Lord Occlus of the Dark Council is…"
"My twin brother." Jurhe responded with a small sigh.
"Her younger twinbrother." Lady Jheben elaborated with a small smile, "He proved to be quite strong in the force and I was able to speed his admission into the academy by some…creative diplomacy."
His Lady Sith mumbled something under her breath but allowed the comment to stand otherwise unopposed. That is, until Jurhe remembered Quinn had one more sibling to account for.
"His name is Warren, my lord." he answered the question before she ask, anticipated her curiosity with a skill he was quickly evolving to suit his survival needs.
"Younger brother?"
He sniffed, "Half-brother."
"What fun!" Jurhe looked at him curiously, "I wonder if he is as interesting as you are."
"I wouldn't know, my lord. It has been several years since I've spoken to him. We are not exactly close."
"Mother?" Jurhe looked back at the flickering image, "Anything interesting?"
The pause that follows was a terrible one. And that was when Quinn realized that somehow, someway, Lady Jheben knew more about his family than most should.
The terrible stain to his family's reputation, the black sheep, Quinn was suddenly aware that he was holding his breath, waiting for the hammer to fall. But instead the comment was deflected with the most potent of weapons, a smile.
"Of course my dear, but I believe it is best if you learn about him on your own."
The question seemed to be enough to assuage whatever curiosity Jurhe had scrapped together, and it was only a short time later that she bid her mother a good evening.
"Goodbye mother, I will contact you again in a few months."
And though she had refused to bow to Baras, had never even bothered to show even the slightest modicum of respect to any of the other Sith lords they had met, Jurhe did not leave her until after she had swept into a lovely bow .
"I know dear."
And with nary another word, Quinn watched at the Sith Lord swept out of the room, leaving her mother, and the holocom, in the room.
"She really is a creature of habit." The flickering image of Lady Jheben smiled for a moment, the elegant woman suddenly the very epitome of exasperated mother, "As predictable as the Moons of Drexel."
It was a common phrase among those of the Imperial Academy, both a running joke and a hint that students used to pass between one another. The three moons of Drexel, nearly identical in the sky, were impossible to tell apart except to those who had spent the time on Drexel watching them. The phrase was a hint, a lesson, to be observant and patient; the patterns and truths would eventually become apparent. Quinn had no idea if Lady Jheben understood the larger implication of her words, but he stored the information nonetheless.
"Captain?"
The light blue image of Lady Jheben, didn't so much as flicker as she called his attention a final time, "Don't let my daughter walk all over you. She may be sith, but she is a young one. I've seen your record, two decades with Imperial Intelligence is nothing to take lightly. Do us proud."
Quinn's expression dissolved to confusion, "My Lord?"
Jheben smiled but shook her head, "I'm no Sith, Captain. I'm…" She laughed then, a melodic laugh that brightened the air, "Show some nerve, Quinn. My daughter is not nearly as dangerous as you think."
Her image disappeared a moment later, leaving only a glowing insignia. And that was when the pieces fell neatly into place. A woman with the backing of a considerable intelligence network, the ghostly protector of the Empire; Jurhe's Lady Jheben was Cipher Nine.
He stood there for a long time afterwards, contemplating the knowledge, watching the insignia until it faded. He had never quite met a woman like that particular agent save one and as he left the room to look for that woman Quinn couldn't help the way the corner of his mouth quirked ever so slightly.
"Quinn?"
He found her standing at the balcony overlooking the casino floor.
"Yes, my lord?"
Jurhe smiled, the green and orange lights dancing across her face as she did so. And for the first time since they had met Quinn felt steady, in control of himself.
Sith though she was, he was a professional.
"I told you, Captain, I have a name. Use it."
She should never have let him meet her mother; the woman had been all too informative.
Face impassive but eyes glittering, he shook his head.
"I apologize, my lord, but I must refuse. To do anything of the sort would be highly inappropriate."
It was the first time he ever made her laugh.