This chapter will be far, far more inappropriate when uploaded to ff.net : P
Chapter 7: The Scar
“You wished to speak with me, Captain?” Akuliina stood slim and straight in her grey dress in the door to the cockpit, looking at him with cool, detached interest.
It wasn’t fair. How could she mess with his head, even with his heart, and still appear so unconcerned on the turn of a credit? “My lord,” he said, and he saw her stiffen at the disused title. “Thank you for your attention. I must officially request to be reassigned.”
A look of sardonic annoyance crossed her face. “Is this assignment too harrowing, Captain?”
“No. I thrive on harrowing. But I am… compromised. My feelings affect my ability to concentrate. I cannot, in good conscience, continue to serve.” Or at least continue to serve you.
He saw a myriad of emotions pass over her face as she realized he was serious – when was he not, though? – and wondered that he could read her so well. Anger, certainly, alarm, shock – just a little. And then something that surprised him – a genuine sadness, a resigned disappointment.
She recovered quickly, too quickly, covering up that brief burst of feelings with cold haughtiness. “I could… if I wanted to… order you to stay. And you would have to. …But…” And she couldn’t help the way her expression softened again, it seemed, and her eyes were melancholy. “I won’t impede one of the best officers in the Empire. If you… truly… wish to go… I will grant your transfer.”
She stood there, almost successful at hiding how much the idea of his leaving hurt her, and he stood there and witnessed it, and the beating of his heart grew loud in his ears. He – he’d thought it was all still just a game to her. That she’d only been trying to interfere with him because it was funny to her, even when she’d kissed him.
He’d hurt her. The realization broke over him like a bucket of cold water. He hadn’t thought it possible, that someone like him could cause pain to someone like her, but now that he knew it was, it was imperative that it be mended. And… there was the dawning realization that if he left, he still wouldn’t be free of thoughts of her. There was only one thing to do.
“No… I’m a fool,” he said, and his voice seemed to come from far away. “I- Permission to kiss you, my lady?”
And her face slowly brightened, no control whatsoever over her expressions now, as she stared at him with growing hope and joy. Then she breathed a laugh, smiling widely at him. “I’m the one who does the kissing around here, Captain!” And then she lunged for him. Her hands were on his collar, yanking him down to her level, his mouth meeting soft but demanding lips. He just barely had the presence of mind to put his arms about her, to hold her slender body close to him. His touch, his kisses were gentle as hers were aggressive, not yet daring to believe this was real.
He hadn’t imagined kissing such a deadly, powerful woman could be so… sweet. That his heart would skip a beat out of excitement, not fear. That she’d truly willingly be in his arms, that she’d truly kiss him as passionately as she was doing.
She parted from him and they were both a little out of breath. She’d backed him into the bulkhead again and was leaning against his chest, wrapped up in his arms, her fingers brushing his face, his jaw affectionately. “So there will be no more of this ‘transfer’ nonsense, correct?”
“Correct, my lady.”
“Good.” She kissed him again, just as passionately.
And he could feel his life falling into place again. Yes, he’d forever be distracted by her, and she would constantly be in his mind, but the uncertainty was gone, and that meant that he could probably finally focus on what was truly important. Which was serving her to the best of his considerable ability. “I have something to fight for besides the Empire now,” he whispered the next time she let him go for air.
“Oh, there’s much more to come,” she said with a smile, releasing him and taking a step back, though one hand still lingered on his shoulder.
He took a deep breath, feeling the constriction of his uniform around his chest. He had to smile back at her. “I’m counting on it.”
She nodded warmly. “I have things to do. But I’m glad we had this talk.”
“I as well.”
After she left, he stared out into the blue swirl of hyperspace, his emotions running amok. Relief, that she wasn’t simply toying with him, happiness, that she cared for him, and hope, that this might lead somewhere very good. He basked in the memory of the kisses she’d given him, of the feeling of her slender warmth in his arms, pressed against him.
It was time to work again. He could think about that later.
And there was the increasingly unsettling realization, now that she had left him alone, that he had as much uncertainty as before… just different. How would their relationship work? For him personally, where was the balance between duty and affection? Did she actually love him or was she just attached to him for the time being? She was so young, compared to him. He didn’t mind the age difference for its own sake, not anymore, but she had hardly finished maturing yet, despite her intelligence and self-awareness and what self-control she displayed.
Did he love her?
His heart didn’t want to answer for some reason. She was beautiful, strong, confident, ambitious, everything he found attractive, and she fought for the order and honour of the Empire. She was certainly the first girlfriend he’d had who had more power than him, which was an interesting challenge. He wanted to be at her side… forever. Even if she discarded him. To serve her as she needed serving. To protect her, as she’d said, where she couldn’t protect herself. He adored her. Was that close enough?
They definitely needed another talk or several to sort things out. But he wouldn’t ask her everything at once. He didn’t want to scare her. Or annoy her, as would be more likely. Though if he was her lover, he would have a certain liberty to speak his mind, at least in private, wouldn’t he? Or would she refuse that as a Sith? Did Sith even know how to have healthy relationships?
What was she thinking about right now? Was she thinking about him?
He needed to get to work. Every time he tried to get free, he only ensnared himself more firmly. But right now he didn’t mind. This torment was slightly more bearable than the previous torment. For now, at least.
Two nights later she was lying awake, restless. Quinn hadn’t rejected her. She’d almost pushed him too far, but not quite. She’d felt sick when he asked for a transfer, as if the bottom had dropped out of her stomach – or her universe – no, that was putting it a bit strongly. But she’d been upset. She wanted to be angry with him for giving her such a roller-coaster ride of emotion, but something stopped her. What was that feeling? Was it possible it was… empathy? How bizarre.
But the look in his deep blue eyes when he asked to kiss her – she could have gladly drowned in it. That wasn’t a look she’d seen before on any of her lovers. Quinn was different. Quinn was special. Quinn was hers. Force, she was hopeless around him. She needed to stop it. What sort of Lord was she, Sith or otherwise, mooning over a man? She’d never admit it, not even to Vette.
He was handsome. He was sexy. He was competent and loyal and entirely devoted to furthering the cause of the Empire – and her. He was everything she could ask for in an officer or in a man. The way he’d held her, the way his voice had been so soft and deep when he told her he would fight for her, the way he’d begun to reciprocate her kisses…
Gradually she became aware that her restlessness was arousal, and that her arousal was an echo through the Force from Quinn’s arousal over in the otherwise-empty crew quarters. How unbearably frustrating. And unfair.
She was going to do something about it.
That was the first night she came to visit him, and though he’d been frightened of her at first, with her eyes flashing furiously and her teeth clenched in anger, it resolved itself to the… satisfaction of both parties.
This… was a good thing, right? But every time she pushed their relationship to a new level, he was left with new uncertainties. He needed to obtain verbal clarification that she cared for him, that he meant something to her as she meant something to him, that she wasn’t just using him for his body.
It was a foolish fear, in light of everything that had happened in just the last little while. And yet… she was a Sith, and they were infamous for their whims, and Akuliina was hardly free from caprice. And yet… she was still young and though her eyes had been sincere when she kissed him, what she felt now might not be what she felt in a month. And yet… fears were insidious and would poison his thoughts as deeply as she’d poisoned them before. It would only take a few words, but they were difficult words, and he hadn’t dared ask during their encounter. He would have to dare soon. It was imperative.
He walked slowly into the mess, straightening his uniform and rubbing sleep from his eyes – and stopped short. Vette was sitting on the counter, her head tentacles wrapped casually around her neck like a scarf, and looking very pleased with herself.
“So I’ve hidden all of the caf somewhere on the ship,” she said, far too perkily for the hour and for his peace of mind. Wait, what? The caf? He needed that. “I’m not telling you where it is until you tell me about Moff Broysc. I mean yeah, I could look him up on the holonet, but I want to know what your deal is.”
He hadn’t had enough caf to deal with this. And if he’d received another message from Moff Broysc, he wouldn’t be able to deal with that either. He certainly wasn’t telling Vette about him, and it was possible at this moment it was just a little bit out of spite. He dug his commlink out of his pocket. “Lieutenant Pierce. Vette has hidden the caf. If you want any, I suggest you deal with her.”
A sleepy growl was his answer.
Vette pouted. “Oh, come on. That’s not fair. He doesn’t even normally get up for another hour.”
“Vette.”
“And we don’t have any missions right now, we’re on standby, it’s not like you’re doing anything important right now.”
“Vette.”
Pierce shambled into the kitchen. “Right, can’t deal with a little girl, Captain?”
“I’m delegating responsibility in case things go catastrophically wrong.”
Pierce sighed and yawned. “You namby-pamby bastard. Right, c’mere, you little-”
Vette stuck out her tongue and ran, skidding under Pierce’s outstretched arms.
“You can’t run forever!” Pierce yelled, running after her.
Quinn sat down at the table and put his forehead in his hand. His life was ridiculous.
At least it wasn’t boring.
An hour later, Pierce and Quinn were drinking coffee silently side by side. Pierce had a fantastic bruise on his temple. In the end, Jaesa had come out of the crew quarters, bothered by all the scampering, and simply found the caf while Pierce was still vainly trying to catch Vette, who’d wriggled into the engines where he was too big to follow.
“At least I don’t drink milk-sop,” Pierce said finally.
“Milk is for tea,” Quinn retorted. Which he also drank, and enjoyed, just not as his morning kick-start. He finished his caf and headed for the cockpit. He was late. “At least I don’t drink engine tar.” They both drank it black, but Pierce’s brand of caf would take the roof off a gundark’s mouth.
“’s good tar,” was Pierce’s thrilling comeback.
It was only their second time in bed together; she hadn’t ambushed him this time, he’d come and asked politely, still trying to figure out his new status in relation to her, and she seemed only too eager to welcome him, almost drag him into her cabin. Tonight, he asked one of the questions that had fired his curiosity the first time. “What’s this?” he asked softly, running his fingers along the horrifying scar on her right side.
She shivered under his touch. “Well… My previous lover… Suhail. He was the one to call me ‘Lina’… I was eighteen. He stabbed me in bed one night. Tried to kill me because I was ‘in his way‘. His parents were also Kuati nobility, you see.” Her face darkened to a hate-filled snarl before filling with wicked satisfaction. “He almost succeeded… but I threw him through a wall and stabbed him with a chandelier. And that’s why I always have at least three plans to kill anyone I sleep with,” she said, looking contemplative. “I certainly learned that lesson.”
Quinn swallowed hard. “Including me, I presume.” For a moment he was second-guessing, wondering if he should put in for that transfer after all. But he lived for danger… didn’t he…? And he was coming to love her… …wasn’t he…? Even if she didn’t love him, even if she was only using him for her pleasure. Which he still wasn’t sure about.
“Of course. But don’t try and kill me, and I won’t have to use them. It would be a shame to deprive the Empire of such a devoted servant, after all,” she purred, stroking his shoulder. “Well, you asked about the scar, and now you know.”
“I did.” He ran his fingers along it some more; she curved away from his touch, gasping with arousal. “I do.”
“I was in kolto for three months afterwards. Hardly touched men for two years after that.”
And it had occurred two years ago. He was the first one she’d trusted since then. He’d better live up to it. “And now I know why you only let Vette call you Lina.”
“Oh yes. Anyway, shall we continue?”