AN: And here's the next step in our little journey - part 1 of a 2 part look at what happens on Tattooine. As always there is very little in the way of detailing the actual SW plot, but I think it provides a good first look into the deceptively complex woman that is our leading lady.

Let me know what you think - and thanks for all the love thus far!

~Voi

He hated Tatooine with a passion he otherwise reserved for incompetents and the Republic…and Vette. Indeed, if it wasn't for the principle of the matter Quinn would have been all too happy to allow the Republic to waste away trying to manage a planet that seemed hell-bent on lawless marauding and pirating.

The sand was getting everywhere, and with intense heat beating down on them he was beginning to feel each one of his thirty seven years. It figured that their mission required they traverse to the very ends of the planet. And because Vette had been a little too unlucky at the sabacc table and their leader a little too free spending when shopping for a new set of robes there was not a cent to be had to buy the truly important things.

Not that there was a single speeder in sight either.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Quinn swallowed the annoyance he could feel creeping up with the rising temperature and continued to trudge on in silence. His throat had started burning hours ago for want of liquid, and it had only been his very particular brand of control that had left the desire pass unremarked.

Blazing the path ahead, Jurhe stood on the crest of a great dune resplendent in scarlet robes, her ornately braided hair glowing like a crown around her head. Gilded by the shine of the sun and made all the more prominent by the billowing of her skirts, she epitomized every thought Quinn had ever had of the Empire.

Perhaps he had to rethink his ire at her shopping for armor after all; nothing had suited her quite as well as these did. She was a warrior queen, armed and ready for conflict. And yet, she was more than just skillful, she was observant and that was both a blessing and a curse.

"Do you require assistance, Captain? A drink, perhaps?"

Looking up from where he had carefully been maneuvering himself up the dune, Quinn met her gaze with steadiness. She looked amused, pleased, though he couldn't tell if that was with him or with herself that she took such pleasure. Having managed to use hardheaded imperial stubbornness to win out against her request at a more casual relationship, Jurhe had taken to calling him by his title in a parody of decorum. And though his throat was indeed burning with thirst, he was a stubborn enough man to know he could survive at least a few hours more before giving in.

"I am doing quite well, my Lord. I apologize if I seem to be slowing."

At his response, his mistress' expression morphed into one of impish delight, "Oh it's not a problem, Captain. You're speed is acceptable, and in any case, I appreciate a man with stamina over one with speed."

There was no missing the innuendo, the heat in her eyes that seemed to scorch hotter than any desert sun (or two). He had been on the receiving end of that smoldering look on more than one occasion, and still it seemed she had the power to render him speechless.

And suddenly he was not thirsty for something as simple as water, for Jurhe had whetted a very different kind of thirst with her words.

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore her advances, a state of weakness which he was struggling to conceal. She was an attractive woman, accomplished and so smart he had enjoyed watching her intricate mind solve the many problems thrown at her. But what had happened on Balmora had been a onetime weakness, and Quinn did not make a habit of sleeping with his superior officers, lovely or not.

Thus he feigned ignorance and replied simply, "Thank you, my Lord."

But instead of turning back to the task at hand, to locate the famed oasis that would reveal the location of the jedi hermit Yonlach, Jurhe lingered close at hand.

Dark eyes glittering, she seemed to study him for a long moment before she extended her hand, ordering suddenly, "Water."

He complied with her wishes instantly, and the flask was in her hand a moment later, uncorked and glinting brightly in the sunlight as she took several long drinks. And though she appeared unaffected by the heat, as she tilted her head back Quinn caught himself staring at the slender column of her neck, fascinated by the glittering wetness that spilled down scarlet lips and dribbled down her throat. It couldn't have taken more than a few seconds, but the vision of her was all but burned into his mind by the time she finished.

"Your turn, Captain."

Her silky voice was all the warning he received before the flask sailed through the air, propelled by an elegant flick of her wrist.

And though he considered himself fairly swift on his toes, he found himself fumbling the catch, sloshing several precious mouthfuls as he straightened the container.

Wasted.

It had been a very long time since he had made such an oversight and it reminded him uncomfortably of his childhood as he felt the frustration well in his chest. Fighting the surge of self-loathing he swallowed tightly, forced himself to exhale slowly.

What was wrong with him?

He didn't bother glancing at his mistress but quickly closed the flask instead, unwilling to take a drink when he had just failed so spectacularly. But before he could properly store the untapped container, he found himself stopped by a sharpness of a command, the words like a whip.

"Drink, Captain."

Looking up, he could see the expression on her face was no the flirtatious smile, nor even the self-satisfied smirk. Instead, her lips were twisted into a slight frown. And though he had suspected it aimed at his mismanagement, the expression deepen only when he hesitated to open the flask once more.

"Consider it an order."

Her voice broke no argument, and whatever reservations disappeared as he did as asked, taking several long drinks from their container though he was careful to meter his intake, mindful of their journey.

Finishing his final swallow, he cleared his throat quickly before addressing the watchful woman.

"Thank you my lord."

And though he had begun to stopper the flask he found both pieces suddenly wretched from his grasp, not by hands, but by the force instead.

As a warrior who relied more heavily on her martial prowess the unexpected use of her other talents startled him. And though it was impossible to truly forget her abilities, the strength that she had left unremarked remained muted.

He had never truly considered why, but in that moment the question was born.

Why did she rely so heavily on her skills with a saber when it seemed so apparent that she had access to an untold depth of ability in the force?

"One more for the road."

The look she gave him was one of amusement as if once more she had read his mind and found them quaint. She seemed to forever be silently laughing at him. This time was no different, and instead she turned her attention to the glittering silver flask.

The sip she took was deep and lusty, over all too quickly.

And when at last she was done, she took the time to walk back down the sand dune, to approach him. It was she who stepped close enough to brush the tips of her fingers down his immaculate coat and smooth the small wrinkle at his waist. It was she who placed the flask back where it belonged, clipped to the belt around his waist.

All but purring in pleasure she pressed her lips to his cheek for just a second as she tightened the final buckle that would secure the container. Quinn swallowed hard when she remained close for a long minute afterwards, trying to focus on anything but the scent of her soft perfume, the press of her body against him.

"My lord?"

She brushed her lips against the underside of his jaw and chuckled when he swallowed again, his breath traitorously unsteady.

"For all of your dedication, Captain, I can tell when a soldier needs a drink."

Her lips found the pulse point on his neck, and this time there was no helping the way he jolted. But more than that, there was no disguising the roughness of his voice that bellied the attraction he felt.

His hands too seemed to betray him, and instead of remaining at his side he found them resting easily on the curve of her lower back.

"My lord, I really must…"

Her fingers were upon his lips before he could finish, and as she looked up at him, there was no missing how dark her eyes had become, how her pupils had dilated.

"I know, Captain."

There was a flash of something softer, sweeter, before the wildness returned and she rose on the tips of her toes to brush her lips upon his.

And then, she stepped away from him, saying only, "Duty comes first."

She was nearly halfway up the dune before she spoke to him again, from over her shoulder came a flash of teasing and something else.

"But don't think I can wait forever. I know you, Captain – you're like fine Imperial wine, Captain, you get better with time."

And then she was off, disappearing up the dune with that dancer-like gait and the imperious billowing of her cloak. A soldier, a leader, but undeniably a woman too.

Quinn watched Jurhe's moving figure and felt both his heart and stomach clench in what felt suspiciously like fear, but also something else, something more dangerous by far. Because that moment where she had offered the water had felt suspiciously like mercy…like…

He watched her for only a second more before he began to follow.

He didn't know what to make of a Sith that even momentarily seemed to embrace the light, but more than that, he didn't know what to do with a woman who seemed so very capable of keeping him unbalanced.