Scourge's ship, The Segomo, sat like a raptor in a boneyard. Gray-white tombstones and leaning statues rose in stark contrast to the sleek, ebon vehicle like ribcages already stripped of their meat.
'This must be what you get when a Phantom and an Interceptor rub bulkheads,' Ky thought as she scrutinized the exterior contour while she and Corso headed toward the dim red light emanating from the top of the ramp.
Lord Scourge exited the area of the cockpit and pushed by Corso to retract the ramp and close the door as soon as they'd stepped through the hatch.
"Welcome aboard," Scourge said. "I'll show you to your quarters while TooVee performs prechecks."
They followed the armored wall of his back, passing crew quarters, galley and cargo bay to a small room with double bed, desk, chair, and wardrobe.
"I apologize for the cramped space. I know you are accustomed to larger accommodations."
"It's fine," remarked Ky. "We'll make do and at least it has its own refresher."
"My quarters are close to the cockpit which should provide a modicum of privacy during your stay. Please stow your gear and meet me in the conference room as soon as possible. I'd like to contact my people about Nar Shaddaa and get underway."
As soon as Scourge's footsteps had receded, Corso slapped his palm against the lock panel. "Dammit, Ky, I can't stand being mad at you, but what the hell are you doing? What do you owe this Scourge?"
She sat the lockbox on the foot of the bed and turned to face him. "We don't have time for this. We can talk later."
He spread his hands in earnest plea. "Just explain this, please. I can wait for the rest."
She closed her eyes and slumped unto the edge of the bed, a sigh of resignation puffing through her cheeks. She wanted another drink to replace the warmth that the cold knot forming in her stomach had leached out of her extremities. Her mind whimpered, 'I'm tired, and scared, and making it up as I go,' but her lips uttered the words they both needed to hear.
"I refuse to have this thing dragging behind us along with everything else. Scourge is right, it'll never end. So, by stars, I'll give them a run for their money, and if push comes to shove, I'll pick my place and make a stand. No matter the outcome, I'm going to end this."
Corso had come to kneel at her feet, taking her hands in his, massaging her icy fingers. "And Scourge?"
As if hearing his name, the Sith's voice broke through the intercom. "I'm waiting, Ky. We need to do this now or not at all."
She slid her hands from Corso's and laid her palm against his cheek. "It'll have to keep."
Scourge's baritone met them at the conference room's door. "Regardless, this needs to be done, and you will hear her out. Am I clear?" He stood before the holo image of a man whose back was to them until they stepped around the oval table.
"Well, hello again, sweet cheeks," the man grinned, the scarred side of his face puckering into an abstract painting of crooked blue lines. "Seems you just can't stay away."
"Silence, Okarr," grumbled Scourge who turned to Ky. "Give him the information for your people and be quick. I have many levels of security on this channel, but nothing is guaranteed."
Ky nodded. "Your contact's name is Akaavi Spar, she travels with a Wookiee and a Mon Calamari. Use this frequency on your commlink, 127-Zesh-95-Leth-3 and record this message from me. Ready?"
"For you, babe, always," he teased.
Corso was taut as a bowcaster string, and if looks could kill, Okarr would already be on the floor. She elbowed him in the ribs and began to speak.
"Akaavi, I don't have time to explain. Right now we are safe but can't come for you. This man, Okarr, will get you off of Nar Shaddaa and take you to the ship. Stay there. I will call if I can. And just so you know it's really me, Aliit ori'shya tal'din."
"That it?" asked Okarr.
"Yeah, just bring them through this," answered Ky.
"I'll do my best, darlin'. Besides, we still have that other matter to settle. You know what I mean."
"In your dreams," she retorted, barely able to suppress a smile from lifting the corners of her mouth.
"Okarr out." The man's laughter flickered and died along with his image.
"Come with me," said Scourge. "We need to leave."
Corso expelled a low whistle between his teeth when they stepped into the cockpit. The control console formed a semi-circle around the pilot's seat with tinted glass covered panels fanned out in patterns designed for efficiency. A systems status monitor tilted upward in the center displaying a constant readout, and a retractable rearview monitor hung from the ceiling. The smaller co-pilot station sat to the left and navigator console to the right.
"Nice digs," remarked Ky.
"It serves me well," said Scourge with an off-handed wave of the wrist.
"Prechecks are complete, Master. Orinda is locked in and we are ready for departure," the Imperial 2V-R8 model droid swiveled the pilot's seat and stood up.
"We have guests, and I expect you to perform accordingly," Scourge ordered and stepped aside so the droid could pass.
"Ky, if you please," said Scourge, gesturing toward the pilot's seat.
She shook her head. "Corso departs and lands, I fly. It's just the way it is."
"Are you sure? Shouldn't you get familiar with the controls?"
"I already am." She turned to Corso. "Take us out, babe."
"So, Okarr, huh?" she said, grabbing the back of the pilot's seat during the slightly wobbly take off. "Any relation to Nico Okarr?"
"Evidently some long-lost cousin. Seph has proven to be quite useful during his tenure with me, being a man of diverse talents."
"So, how did you meet this guy?"
"Living up to the Okarr name, Seph took it upon himself to de-flower the niece of a very powerful Moff. This was perhaps eight years before my defection. I was sent to interrogate a captured SIS agent who'd infiltrated the 7th fleet and from down the hall came yelling of a rather sexual nature. As I recall it went something like, 'Oh, baby, please, just one more, I'm so close.'"
Ky chuckled at his dry, monotone delivery as much as the words themselves. "And you had to investigate, right?"
"It did pique my curiosity." Scourge's body wavered slightly when Corso made the jump. "Not much surprises me after so many years. Strapped nude to an interrogation table, body bruised and bleeding with half his face scorched, was Seph. He had the temerity to wink at me and ask if I wanted to play also.
"I feigned righteous indignation, told them I would take care of the man myself for such insult and he has been in my employ ever since. He runs his side businesses, and I don't ask as long as he's there when I call. The arrangement suits us both, and he's one of a handful of people I trust."
"I'll hold onto my reservations about that until he gets my crew off Nar Shaddaa," countered Ky.
"Ok, so now what?" asked Corso, swiveling the pilot's chair to face them.
"May I see it?" Scourge directed his question to Ky.
She led the way to her room where she placed the locked box into his hands, glad to be rid of the damnable thing and the feeling of insects crawling on her skin when it was near.
"The lock..." she started to say but was cut off.
"Is no matter," stated Scourge who handled the box as if it were detonite with a damaged blasting cap. "I will take this to my room and begin the translation."
As if in a trance, Scourge spun on his heal and exited, his eyes glued to the item held gingerly in his hands.
An awkward silence manifested, and both she and Corso stood unmoving, locked in uncertainty where neither of them wanted to exhale for fear of the words that would tumble from their lips.
Ky cleared her throat. "I suppose we should unpack."
"Yeah, guess so."
For the next few hours, they pirouetted around each other, went to the galley where the droid informed them that Scourge had stocked the ship with foods appropriate to their needs and had even purchased a bottle of real Corellian Whiskey solely for her pleasure. Neither ate, and Ky left the unopened bottle where it sat.
Scourge remained sequestered in his room with the reliquary and Corso spent extra time in the cockpit, as much to give Ky some space as to memorize the layout of the control panel so his landing wouldn't be as rough as the initial departure.
Ky sat on the bed, fighting a beastly tangle in her hair when Corso returned. He toed off his boots, took the brush from her hand and crawled behind her, tucking his shin tight against her backside and letting his other leg dangle off the edge.
"Is this a segue into getting me to answer your questions?"
"No, I just like brushing your hair." He'd worked the tangle loose and now drug the bristles across her scalp in long, steady strokes, smoothing the strands with his hand as he went. "It's grown in the past few weeks, I like it."
"About Scourge," she began, noting that the brush had hesitated mid stroke before resuming. "I was the one who flew them through the battle above Dromund Kaas and landed outside the temple so Sayonar could face the Emperor. We fought our way to the chamber where he sat, but what lay beyond those doors was not my fight, so I remained outside, guarded their backs and waited."
A shiver wracked her body, and Corso dropped the brush onto the bed, bracketed her thighs with his and pulled her back into his chest, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
"I'd never experienced terror like that before. It ate through the skin like acid and settled into my bones, drilled into my brain with a thousand searing needles and left me defenseless in the face of despair. I think had I been Force-sensitive, I might have gone mad like the pitiable denizens of that place."
A shuddering sigh heaved upward from deep within, pushing the horror aside so she could continue. "I knew when the Emperor had passed. A wall of energy hit me, knocking me to my knees. A wave of death and decay, filthy and cloying took all the air from the corridor where I knelt, and I thought I'd suffocate from the sheer absence of hope."
"I didn't know," Corso murmured. "Is this the memory where you get so lost I fear you'll never come back to me?"
"No, but you wanted to know about Scourge and our history is important."
He rubbed her arms, hoping to drive away the gooseflesh that dappled her skin. She lay her head against his shoulder, waiting for the words she knew would come.
"Were you and he...involved?" Corso cast the question carefully, letting it hang, dreading the answer, chiding himself for being petty but needing to know.
"Not in that sense, but there is an affinity between us. Mutual respect of sorts, especially after I was badly wounded by Imperial troops blocking our way back to the ship. Scourge practically carried me, and I still flew us off Dromund Kaas, passing out once I'd made the jump. Besides, if he could feel that way about any woman, it certainly wouldn't be me."
"If he could feel that way?"
"I'll explain later." She extricated herself from his arms, turned and straddled his thighs, locking her fingers at the back of his neck. "Scourge let something slip I'd hoped would never come up, but it's in the open now. I think it's time for a game of I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
Corso's stomach tightened, he wasn't ready for this, but he'd try. "Ok, I'll start. The arena, how long?"
"As a fighter, three years and change. My turn. Belsavis."
"Oh, Ky," he whispered, framing her face with his hands. "Three years, I'm so sorry."
"Being owned, being property was the worst of it." She twisted the tiny hairs at the tender place right below his hairline making him wince. "Belsavis," she repeated.
"Bad memory." He swallowed hard. "What arena, where?"
"Affavan." She cocked her head, sensing he was already shutting down. "What bad memory?"
"I'm sorry, I can't." He shook his head, stubbornly retreating back to his haven of secrets. "I've already said too much."
The moment was lost, he'd locked her out again. "You don't play fair." She tangled her fingers in his hair, forcing his head back so she could pinch the skin of his neck between her teeth.
"Neither do you." He rolled her onto her back, pulling the brush from under his ribs and tossing it against the wall before swallowing all the questions perched on the tip of her tongue.
'If only,' Ky thought, glancing down at Corso after pulling the teeshirt over her head. He lay on his back, one arm beneath the pillow, the other resting across his chest. His fingers twitched every few seconds, and his eyes rolled under the lids; a dream, and she hoped it was a good one.
The door opened silently on its tracks, and she padded toward the galley where a virgin bottle of whiskey awaited her particular attention. The snap of the wax seal breaking bounced back to her from the metal walls, sounding louder than it should have. She peeked over her shoulder wondering if someone else had heard, and lifted the open bottle to her nose. The scent of caramel and oak with just a hint of chooka nut greeted her nostrils like old friends, and it was long past time for them to get reacquainted.
She swirled her index finger around the top of the bottle after she'd filled her glass halfway, and popped it into her mouth in case a drop had escaped. This was an unexpected treat that she had no intention of wasting.
She strolled to the cockpit and sat in the pilot's chair, scanning the various controls, buttons, and knobs to make sure they were all firmly ingrained in her memory, then tucked one leg under the other and leaned back. Tiny rivers of mellow fire slid down her throat, and she let her mind go blank, cocooning herself in a fleeting sense of peace that would disappear all too soon.
"Am I interrupting?" Scourge's voice drew her abruptly out of the serenity she'd only just found.
The Sith stood by the navigator seat attired in sleep pants and tank top. She'd seen him like this before and still marveled at his physique from broad chest to tapered waist. The corded muscles created a topography worthy of exploration and she envied the knight her discoveries should he ever find a cure.
"You're quite the fetching figure under all that armor," she said, eyes openly appraising him.
"Seems the years have been good to me, or so I've been told," he slid into the open chair, propped one foot on the seat and rested his arm on his knee.
"I see you found my little gift," his eyes dropped to the glass she balanced on the armrest.
"Yes, and thank you," she raised the glass in a toast and took another sip. "How's the translation going?"
"More challenging than I expected. It's based on our periodic table of elements. To date, one hundred twenty-six are known, differentiated by numbers of protons and neutrons and many combinations, but I won't bore you with the details. I need to find a common thread. One number that repeats at specific intervals throughout that can be assigned an alphabetic value, not Aurabesh, more likely ancient Sith. If I can find that, I can break the code. It will take time."
"For what it's worth, I hope you find what you're looking for. No one should have to exist with what the Emperor did to you."
Scourge held his breath and caught her eyes with his, tilting his head as if trying to make a decision. He clicked his nails against the thumb of the hand dangling from his knee. One at a time, ticking off seconds, counting the wages of trust. "Only one other knows the true nature of my curse," he said at last. "What Vitiate did to me was more insidious than merely stripping me of all feeling."
"How so? I can't imagine anything worse."
The timbre of his voice grew almost wistful as he spoke. "Do you know that I kissed my Jedi once? Her lips were soft as twilight and sweet as Juna berries. I even felt the old desires stirring in my loins and stars, how I wanted her, how I loved her. But the sensations burned away almost as soon as they appeared. That is my hell. To catch brief glimpses of the man I once was, experience a drop of rain, the taste of wine or a lover's kiss before the Emperor's sorcery sweeps it away as if it were dust. It would have been more merciful to take it all than condemn me to this half-life of almost having. He couldn't even bestow the grace of death upon me. That is true evil."
"How do you stand it?" Ky's words were thick with sympathy. "The constant onslaught, there and gone. How has it not driven you insane?"
"It doesn't work as a switch constantly flipping on and off. Weeks, months, even years pass when I am but a hollow shell, and suddenly the sun is warm on my face, I taste the pure water of a mountain stream or catch her scent lingering in the air. It is cruelty I never imagined, providing just enough to keep the memories alive, a reminder of what I have lost, and what I may never regain."
He broke eye contact and gazed into the void of hyperspace. "The emptiness is my sanctuary, for when I am in the thrall of such powerful feelings, the torment of their fleeting nature is unendurable."
"I understand the solace of nothingness, Scourge. I'm glad the bastard's dead."
"The Emperor is not dead. He's out there, I can feel it, and I will find him."
"You seek revenge?"
"I seek purpose."
"Purpose without emotion is a dead thing, my friend."
"Perhaps, but it's all I have. And what of you and your young man. Do you love him?"
"More than I ever expected and more than he knows."