A/N: in which t'sereen breaks more rules, the sith (+zaara) have dinner, and satele tries that "bonding" thing with theron

also, pining

"No payment, no cube." Captain Sala casually tossed the holocron from hand to hand, either entirely unaware of the value of the artifact or entirely unfazed by it.

T'sereen squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, resisting the urge to simply lash out and take the damn thing. "That agreement was for the relics taken from the Massassi village," she reasoned. "You stole this from the main camp — those rules don't apply."

"No payment," she repeated, "no cube." With one last challenging look, she tossed the holocron to the man beside her. "C'mon, Corso, we'll find a buyer in the outer rim."

The very suggestion made T'sereen cringe. "Wait — fine. Just give me the holocron, and Holiday can arrange payment."

Holiday's pink form flickered into view. "Oh, wow, T'ser," she crooned. "I think that's the nicest holocron we've found yet."

"Don't go overboard — you know the rules." She turned to Corso. "You, give me my holocron." T'sereen snatched the artifact away, leaving the captain with the promise of payment, and stalked back to her ship. The rest of the Republic forces were long gone, having left the Yavin moon the evening before. T'sereen had originally left with the rest of the fleet, but had returned at predetermined coordinates to meet with Captain Sala.

The artifacts they'd recovered so far were impressive, enough to keep Jedi scholars busy for months. Much of it was Massassi — and therefore irrelevant, in T'sereen's mind — but there was also a fair amount of old Sith texts and a handful of things she was certain belonged to, or at least were connected to, Revan herself.

As T'sereen entered the ship, she was immediately ambushed by Nadia. Her apprentice watched, wide-eyed, as T'sereen brought the holocron on board. "Patience," she cautioned. "You may help me study it — later."

To her surprise, it was Felix who protested. "That's the holocron I found with Darth Nox," he observed, voice cautious. "And I'm guessing she didn't just give it up."

"It was stolen," T'sereen informed him, "by a smuggler who wanted to sell it. I simply saved it."

She could tell he didn't believe her, but he didn't press. "Coruscant, then? I'm sure the Council will be interested in what you've saved." There was a tone to Felix's voice, one that suggested even if he wasn't asking questions at the moment, questions would be coming.

"We're not going to the Council," T'sereen said slowly, her words made hesitant by uncertainty about both her actions and Felix's possible reaction. He had, in the past, been supportive of her in regards to the Jedi and her fledgling political career, but what T'sereen was planning now had nothing to do with being a bit too brash or a bit too harsh; the Empire would no doubt come searching for the holocron — and if not the Sith in general, then Nox at the very least — and the Jedi would demand the artifact for study as soon as she presented it.

They would need to meet with Satele, to report in on the aftermath of Yavin 4, and perhaps to fabricate some story to explain her absence while she studied the holocron, but after that? T'sereen was coming to realize she could no longer do her duty — to herself, to the people she loved, and to the Republic as a whole — and also follow the Jedi Code to the satisfaction of the High Council.

And she wasn't going to apologize for putting herself first for once, not after the Council had spent the past few years doubting her.

Rain pattered against the windows, accompanied by the quiet chatter of the restaurant and the soft music that played. Rei ran a finger lightly along her wine glass, eyes skimming across the other guests. She was trying not to squirm in her seat; it wasn't her first time at this particular restaurant, and she knew aliens rarely came to that part of the city anyway, but it still made her uncomfortable to be surrounded solely by humans.

"I see I'm not the only one who's late." Lana, dressed in simple charcoal robes, took the seat to the right of Rei, offering another apology as she sat. "Somehow, rebuilding Intelligence has been even more time consuming than I'd imagined."

"It sounds like you're managing, though," Rei pointed out. "Darth Zhorrid has had a lot to say about you."

"Really?" Her brow furrowed in surprise. "Last time I spoke with her, she didn't seem particularly fond of me or the changes I've made."

"I never said they were good things."

"Ah." Lana gave a light laugh, beginning to look through the menu. "How in the world did you even get us a table here? Any time I've tried, it's been booked months in advance."

Rei shrugged, taking a slow sip of her wine before answering. "I know the head chef. She used to work at that Corellian restaurant — you know, the one just a few blocks over — and long story short, we had a disagreement with the owner so I told her I'd get her a job wherever else she wanted to work."

"Perks of being on the Dark Council, I assume?"

She gave a thoughtful hmm. Perks was one way to put it; she didn't feel like going into detail at the moment, but that had been the same restaurant that had once tried to refuse her service on account of her being Rattataki. Much as she liked to pretend it did, her station didn't always erase all the prejudice against aliens — hence her current unease.

Rei was searching for a new topic of small talk when Zaara and Darth Evris arrived. Zaara was in uniform, but Evris wore an elegant scarlet gown and had her hair up in an elaborate updo. They joined with similar apologies for their tardiness, despite Rei's assurances that she didn't mind.

Their conversation at first was hardly stimulating, with no one quite willing to breach the topic of Yavin or their impending search for the former Emperor. Finally, after a few moments of somewhat awkward silence, Zaara cleared her throat. "So, Lana," she began, tone overly casual. "…I got a message from Cori the other day. She got a big promotion, apparently. She's being considered for the High Council itself." She fell silent for a moment, fingers tapping lightly along her glass. "She says hi."

Lana said nothing at first, staring down at her wine. She glanced up, her voice hopeful when she spoke. "Is it possible for you to get a message back to her?"

Zaara shrugged. "Depends. There's a lot of pressure on her right now, and it would be risky for both of us. I could, but I'd rather not unless it's important."

"I understand." She paused. "Thank you, though. For telling me."

"So," Zaara changed the subject lightly, "Minister. What's on the agenda?"

Lana gave a breathy, nervous laugh. "You'll forgive me if I'm trying to forget about work for the moment. I'm headed to Ziost in a few days to oversee the new headquarters for Sith Intelligence. I don't suppose you'd like to come? You've got an office there, you know."

"It's been two years — if no one's convinced me so far to accept the position of Commander, no one will." Light laughter spread around the table; as it faded, Zaara turned to Rei. "And you, Nox? Is Council business back to normal?"

"As normal as Council business gets, yes." She glanced up first at the Wrath, then at Lana. "For now, at least. Once Intelligence is stable, the search for the Emperor will be in full swing."

"So take your time," Evris teased, the comment intended for Lana.

Lana, in turn, offered a wide-eyed expression of mock surprise. "Darth Evris, not leaping at the chance to serve the Empire?"

She quieted their comments with a sweeping wave of her hand. "I can serve the Empire and still appreciate a bit of occasional peace and quiet," she assured them. "And it's not for my sake, not really. It's for Malavai's." Clearing her throat, Evris straighted her napkin almost compulsively, not taking her eyes from the thin fabric. "The timing is dreadful, I know, but we've been discussing starting a family."

Zaara and Lana offered congratulations, and Rei chimed in with a few token comments. She wasn't particularly close enough with the Wrath to really care, and besides, Evris had a point — the timing was dreadful. But the conversation began to die down as their order arrived; Rei poked at her food, unsatisfied.

She missed Theron.

The thought came entirely unbidden — certainly not as a result of the Wrath's discussion of her relationship, absolutely not — but it left Rei feeling almost deflated. She frowned down at her plate, sipping at her wine rather than eating anything. It had barely been three weeks since they'd left Yavin 4, but it felt simultaneously like years ago and only moments ago.

As the other three settled back into an easy conversation about the future and the direction of the Empire, Rei found herself fidgeting, suddenly restless and uncomfortable. She knew she had important work to do, things to take care of and responsibilities to tend to, but all she really wanted to do at that moment was to get in her ship with Andronikos, go wherever in the galaxy they pleased, and ignore everything that currently demanded her attention.

Rei was fond of feeling important, and did love her seat on the Dark Council, but too often found herself missing the simplicity of the first few months she had spent with Andronikos, working effortlessly together and thoughtlessly following Zash's every whim as long as it led to a good fight.

She'd been so angry then, so mired in the dark side that she'd been too caught up in the blood lust to enjoy her freedom. There was a clarity to it now, a sharp focus that the Force brought to her rather than a blind frenzy, but sometimes she still relished simply giving in and forgetting all the responsibility and duty that now distracted her.

The conversation at the table — now having drifted from baby names to a more sobering discussion about how the Empire as a whole had been affected by the past months — seemed to be evolving easily enough without Rei's input; she pulled out her datapad and typed up a quick message to Andronikos.

[Remember that problem I wasn't sure how to fix?]
[I think there's a slaving ring on Nar Shaddaa that needs to be shut down.]

Rei set the datapad down, folding her hands as she waited for the response. There was too much to do, too much she needed to take care of before heading back to Yavin 4, but really, it couldn't hurt to take a few days to herself in Hutt space, could it?

[Just one?]

That was exactly the encouragement she'd been looking for; Rei found herself barely holding back a grin as she received Andronikos' message. She could send Vrynn and Talos ahead to start their work on Yavin 4. As for Rei, she'd be heading out of Imperial space by that evening.

[To start. Then maybe some drinking. It's a complicated problem, after all.]

"I have nothing else to say on the matter, Master Neiri." Satele folded her hands atop her desk, waiting patiently for T'sereen's response; she knew the twi'lek well enough by now to know that she wouldn't just leave without further argument.

Perhaps she should've seen this coming, all those years ago when the Jedi brought T'sereen in from the Sith. There had been darkness in the apprentice's heart then, and Satele feared those instincts hadn't faded.

As expected, T'sereen didn't let the subject go. "Without my condemnable actions, the Sith would know far more than we do. The artifacts I helped bring from Yavin 4 are going to be—"

"No one is disputing their value," Satele interrupted. It was a conversation they'd had time and time again, ever since T'sereen was a padawan. No one in the Order would question T'sereen's loyalty, or the quality of her results, but her any means necessary approach had always been cause for concern. "But your methods leave—"

"My methods were necessary."

Satele took a slow breath, attempting to calm her growing anger. "Even if we didn't take issue with the artifacts, the entire Council has expressed concern over your suggestions involving the commandant of the Imperial Guard. The Jedi do not condone torture, no matter how dire the circumstances." This wasn't the discussion Satele had been hoping to have today, but considering this was the first time since returning that T'sereen seemed willing to meet with her, it was worth bringing up.

Never before had Satele truly doubted T'sereen or her dedication, not until she'd made her offer to assist with the interrogation. Some of the other Masters on the Council seemed almost vindicated, smugly satisfied at what they believed to be her greatest failure. Satele herself had been… disappointed, after giving T'sereen chance after chance to prove herself to the others only to fall short.

She could feel T'sereen's pride flair. "When I first came here, I thought the Jedi were weak for giving second chances — something that would never be tolerated among the Sith. I tested you, to see how far I could go before I became more of a liability than an asset." T'sereen faltered, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice that was far easier to detect through the Force. "But in time I tried, and you gave me a third chance, and a fourth."

"You were surrounded by darkness for so long. It was only natural to assume it would take time for you to fully understand and embrace the teachings of the Jedi."

"Exactly." T'sereen stood up rigidly straight, violet eyes suddenly as defiant as they had been on her first day in the temple. "I tried, Master Satele. I tried to live up to the Code, and I failed. I refuse to give up what's best for myself, but neither will I continue to disappoint the Council." She softened again as she added, "Yuon taught me to listen as the Force guides us, and the Force has been guiding me away from the Jedi for some time."

It was to be expected, she supposed. Although, Satele had always thought T'sereen's departure would have been more… violent. The result of an outburst, or of the Council deciding she'd caused one too many casualties.

But this… T'sereen was right. She was at peace — there was no darkness or deception that Satele could sense, only an earnest, open woman trying to do what she believed was right. Satele envied her that, in a way. "If this is how it is to be…"

"It is." The determination returned, and Satele even didn't bother trying to stop T'sereen as she stormed out. The door slid open to let her pass, revealing a somewhat startled Theron, who looked as if he'd just arrived. He called after T'sereen as she swept through the hall, but she didn't even look back.

"I'm sorry, Theron," she offered as he entered. "I know the two of you were friends. She's made her choice."

He started to say a half dozen things, before simply asking, "What happened?"

"Several things," Satele answered honestly. "But it was her choice to leave — no one forced her to."

Theron looked prepared to argue, but evidently thought better of it, instead awkwardly holding out one of the caf cups he held. "Ran into Kira this morning," he explained. "She said you and Cori have been pretty busy lately."

Busy was an understatement. Between the continued war efforts, the effects of the Revanite infiltration, the Council's dwindling numbers, and Satele's attempts to help prepare Cori for her new position, she barely had time to think, much less spend an uncomfortable half hour with Theron in the senate tower's lone, busy caf shop.

They were getting better at it, this whole mother-son thing, and Satele was just glad that even after so many years she was getting the chance to mend what little relationship they had. She knew Jace had reached out to Theron, too; the two of them, she suspected, would have an easier time of things — not just because of circumstances, but also because of how eager Jace seemed about it all.

Which was good, all things considered. Satele was of the opinion that Theron could use a few more stabilizing influences in his life; it might not have necessarily been her place, but she had to wonder, with all the time he seemed to spend buried — alone — in his work, how many meaningful relationships he really had.

Bringing her to the next topic she wanted to avoid.

She hadn't brought up Darth Nox while they were on Yavin 4 — there were always too many people, too many things to do — but it wasn't a subject she could just ignore. Call it motherly concern, call it professional interest, call it being nosy, Satele wanted to know the nature of their… involvement, if only to offer a warning. While Satele could sympathize with the feeling of being forced apart from someone she cared for, this was different. Nox was Sith.

The Wrath had been polite, and Marr had at least been tolerant, but Nox had been entirely disrespectful from the moment she set foot on the moon. She was brash, and she was clever, and she had no problem twisting situations to her blatant advantage; Satele had no desire to see Theron used and manipulated to Nox's whims.

"We didn't get the chance to talk on Yavin," she began, one finger tracing the rim of her caf cup, "about Darth Nox."

Theron's expression immediately became more guarded. "She's back on Dromund Kaas, I'm back here on Coruscant, there's not really anything to talk about." His tone suggested that even if there was, he wouldn't be willing to discuss it with Satele.

"The two of you were close," she pressed. "But Nox is Sith — she won't hesitate to use your feelings for her against you. Or against the entire Republic, for that matter." She could give him a lecture on the danger of such strong attachments — the lesson was a relevant one even for those outside the Order — but she knew he wouldn't listen.

"Right," he scoffed. "Look, it's not really your business, and I know you're busy anyway, so I should probably just get back to work. Or track down T'sereen. Or — something." Theron hesitated before turning to leave, guard dropping and expression softening a bit. "Besides, I'm sure you've heard the alliance is over. It's— everything's over."

Satele didn't believe for a minute that it was as said and done as he claimed.