I'm in complete control, and that's the way I like it.
Tyber Zann was always in control, he always knew how to get in control and how to stay there regardless of the situation. Control gave him power, control was power, and anyone who couldn't take as much power as possible and hold it simply wasn't worthy of life.
And if that's the case, he thought, what the corellian hell am I doing? Why am I not going in with backup? Why am I not just ripping the information out of her with torture droids? Why have I kept that sithspitting schutta alive?
Tyber shook his head as he passed cargo hold 02, which had been converted to the Merciless's menagerie. Well, if I really am stupid enough to do this, I should at least try and stop at stupid, not suicidal. And he entered the room.
"Sir," said a Zabrak with a nod, "What d'ya need?"
"I need a Ysalimari and a portable cage."
The hulking Zabrak raised his eyebrows, "You goin to deal with one of the rancor-fuckers?"
Tyber grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to face him.
"You listen to me; no one ever asks me a question like that. If I wanted you too know anything more I'd tell you. Do you understand me?"
"Y-yes sir, sorry sir."
"Good," Tyber said letting him go.
The Zabrak quickly disappeared into the maze of cages and feed containers and rushed back with one of the slick-furred mammals in a cage.
"Here she is sir."
"Good. Remember what I told you."
"Yes, sir."
Silri thought of herself as adaptable. And for the most part, she was right, but she still found hyperspace journeys flustering, even after over a year with the Zann Consortium. She could still work out, and train, and meditate of course, but it was everything in between that bothered her, all the things that she'd never had on Dathomir: food that she didn't have to kill, a soft bed, running water, and comfortable clothes. She didn't know how to deal with these things; she felt the threat of going soft, of being enveloped in the decadence of galactic civilization and losing herself in it.
But sometimes, she made concessions. Part of her always hated it, but she still did it. In the solitude of her stateroom aboard the Merciless, she was wrapped in a soft robe, her hair drying from a long hot shower as she sat at her desk, trying to open the holocron she had recovered from the vault of Palpatine.
Suddenly, a cold wave swept through her body, causing her to shudder violently. She'd felt that same wave before; it was a Ysalimari. A weapon, she needed a weapon! Her lightwhip was no good without the Force, she could just as easily kill herself as her enemy. Rummaging franticly through her things, she found a long hunting knife. Good enough.
She hastily hid the holocron in a trash bin and turned to face the door, just as it slid aside and Tyber Zann stepped in, placing the cage on the table.
"Silri, how are we this evening?
Silri scowled, "Don't toy with me Zann."
"Well, if you insist on skipping the pleasantries then you can just give me the artifact now."
"You let your pet Trandoshan take it back to the emperor," Silri sneered
"And you stole it from his vault."
"Check the tracking device you put on it and you'll see that's not true."
"You said it yourself: enough games. I know you have it."
"Then tell me, why is it that you're here?"
"Come again?"
"You promised that any dissent on my part would end in the destruction of my home world and my people. And I know how massive your ego is, but even you wouldn't openly confront me here, alone, before you started. So tell me worm, why are you here?"
Tyber gritted his teeth "You're certainly one to talk,"
"What?"
"You don't need me, and you haven't since we broke you out of prison on Dathomir. You've had every opportunity to escape with your precious artifact, but always, you've stayed with the Zann Consortium. And not just with the consortium, but with me! How many times have you accompanied me into battle? I've lost count!"
"Stop it!" she screeched, pointing the knife at him.
He swatted it out of her hand, distaining the gesture. "You were never obligated to do anything but sit in your lab and hope that I died in battle!"
He grabbed her by the arms and pushed her into the wall, meeting surprisingly little resistance.
"Why the hell didn't you!"
Her answer was soft, absurdly soft, he couldn't believe that it was the voice of the steel-eating Silri, "I think we both know the answer to that question…"
They stared into each other's eyes. For over a year, they had built battlements of venom and acrimony to assuage the fatal liability of caring for the other, but now, it was clear that it would be a shared liability. They would trade weakness for weakness. I'll be the hitch in your plan, if you'll be the hitch in mine. Slowly, their lips came together in in a glorious kiss, and all the intrigue faded into the background.
Tyber's hands slipped inside of Silri's robe, squeezing the sinuous flesh of her muscled arms. She moaned softly as his hands found their way up to her shoulders and she shrugged the robe off, leaving it hanging only by the sash, and her with only a bra above the waist.
Tyber Zann did not find this arrangement satisfying. He reached behind her for her bra strap, but Silri revolted, unzipping his leather jacket and trying to work his arm out of its sleeve.
"You first," he mumbled, his voice husky and his breath hot on the crook of her neck.
The bra fell, revealing her hard round breasts. Silri took her chance, she ducked out of his grasp and yanked the jacket off, leaving him in a tank top that revealed his arms; tattoos glistened with sweat as they rippled over muscle.
Silri alleviated herself of her robe, breaking the knot and letting the robe drop around her, leaving her naked except for a pair of panties. A life of greed and avarice could not prepare Tyber for the feeling of utter need he felt in that moment. The ashen-skinned woman stood perfectly erect, her black hair falling perfectly over the shoulders of her powerful frame, padded with just enough fat to accentuate her curves to true, undeniable, perfection.
Tyber rushed at her, but she braced against the wall and kicked him in the midriff with both feet. He let out a cry of surprise and anger as he stumbled back and landed on Silri's bed. She grinned, an almost maniacal light in her eye as she leapt across the room and up on the bed, straddling his waist. Before he could stop her, Tyber felt his shirt pulled over his head with amazing speed. The moment his arms were free he grabbed Silri behind the head and pulled her down to his level. He writhed beneath her as she pressed her breasts into his chest, eliciting a whimper from her even as her tongue probed the inside of his mouth.
They sparred like this for a while; then Tyber's impatience got the better of him. He shoved his hands between their groins, fumbling for his belt buckle. He felt Silri tear away from him and then found her iron hand gripping his face, her expression livid.
"When I am ready!" she snared.
Tyber pushed himself up and propped himself against the backboard, a grin playing across his scarred face.
"And when will that be…" His hands settled on her knees, and then slowly gallivanted up her thighs…
her hips…
her waist…
and settled on her breasts, caressing around the nipples.
"… my treasure?"
"Stop it…" she murmured weakly.
"Make me."
Then he pinched her hardened nipples, working them back and forth between his fingers. She melted in his hands, lost to the world in her soft, sweet ecstasy. Her shoulders slumped, and her head lulled back, mouth open with a groan of pleasure as she slowly folded back onto the bed, allowing him to settle on top of her. Her back arched as she felt him placed a wet kiss on each nipple, his breath and long hair tickling them.
"Tyber," she whispered.
"Yes?"
She surprised him when she violently switched their positions. Then she stood up on the bed, gazing down at him.
"I am ready now," she said with a grin.
And then, slowly, she pulled the panties, her last claim to decency, down her smooth, toned legs and cast them aside.
"You might be ready, but there's something I want to try first," he said, his voice thick with lust.
"What?"
"I am hungry…" he said, "I am thirsty…"
Silri kneeled down, presenting her glistening womanhood.
"Then eat me," she purred.
Then she thrust herself forward, mashing her oozing slit into his face. He grabbed hold of her thighs, pressing her into him further so that his tongue reached deeper into her. Then he moved up, and attacked her flushed clitoris, sending her into swirling wave after wave of bliss. She felt her tipping point approach, and wriggled free of his grasp, snickering at her own mischief as he cried out in disappointment.
"You've done something very nice for me Tyber; you're very generous. Won't you let me return the favor?"
Before he could answer, she relieved him of his belt, then his pants, then his underwear, releasing his mighty penis. She stroked it with the back of her hand, and then flashed him a gaze of desire. Then she enveloped him, swirling her tongue around him, smiling when she heard him grunt. Tyber felt pleasure building up where the wet tongue and lips teased him.
She stopped just as he was nearing his limit. He growled in frustration, but was silenced when Silri started to slowly ease herself over him. They had both been brought so close to their tipping points by now that one thrust was all it took for the glorious friction and compression to overwhelm them, sending them into simultaneous orgasm. They moved together, the other's ecstasy multiplying their own as the world dissolved around them, leaving only each other.
After what seemed an eternity they descended once more into reality aboard the Merciless. They lay in each other's arms, fatigued but comfortable as they kissed, slowly, softly.