I’m done! …until I play Rise of the Hutt Cartel! And I have two sequels set in the future planned! HALP

Difficult to have a boss fight the equal of the previous two. I tried!

 

Chapter 15: Troth

The great ornate door of the Dark Council chamber rose before her and she strode in at Vowrawn’s side, glowering, straight and proud in her red light battle armour. The Dark Council was arranged on either side of the chamber, six seats to a side, though some of those seats were empty; ahead was a great empty throne for the Emperor. More symbolic than practical now, she knew… and yet an ever-present reminder of who their true master was. She nodded to the one man on the Dark Council whom she knew personally, the young red Zabrak named Murlesson with the red hair and baleful yellow eyes, present via hologram from his ship; he nodded back gravely. The power in the room was thick as a cloud, intoxicating and heady. She felt her eyes brighten under its influence.

In the centre of the room, Darth Baras strutted, declaiming things she had no interest in. “That had better be Darth Vowrawn coming through those doors,” he said without turning to see them.

“Sorry, Baras, I thought I’d be fashionably late for this occasion. After all, we have a touching reunion to witness!”

“Don’t act like you were expecting me, Baras,” she said, syrupy sweet. It had been so long since she’d seen him in person, and now all her hatred woke from embers to lick at her heart.

“Interesting,” Darth Marr purred, leaning forward to see more.

“This isn’t the time for one of your games, Vowrawn,” Darth Ravage said.

“This is hardly Vowrawn’s game,” she said, stepping forward arrogantly as Vowrawn shrugged and went to his seat. “I am the Emperor’s Wrath, chosen by the supreme master himself. I know his will. And Baras is not the Voice.”

“This is the truth, my fellows,” Vowrawn said, taking his place. “You are the victims of a ruthless and deceitful power grab.”

Baras snorted. “Vowrawn, for whatever reason – greed, jealousy – you’ve refused to accept reality. This is a desperate attempt.” He turned to the rest of the Council, raised his voice theatrically. “Hear me, Dark Council. This child is not our Emperor’s Wrath – she is Vowrawn’s illusion. The Emperor will inform me what is to be done with Vowrawn. For now, assist me in destroying this rabble.”

Akuliina sneered. “Don’t hide behind the council, coward.”

“Fine,” said Darth Ravage, standing and reaching for his lightsaber. “Let us swat this gnat and move on.” She reached for her own lightsaber, ready to fight. She couldn’t handle all seven of the lords present at once – though Vowrawn wouldn’t fight her – but she was damned well going to make a valiant effort.

“No,” Darth Marr growled, still leaning forward in scrutiny, fingertips steepled. “Baras claims to be the Voice. Volkova claims to be the Wrath. I will not provoke the Emperor. The one who lives speaks truth.” Ravage scowled but sat down again. Murlesson smirked.

“Fine,” Baras said. “The master will grant the slave’s last wish. The Emperor calls for your death. Attack me if you dare.”

“I was never your slave, old man,” Akuliina shot back defiantly, and allowed herself a wicked, cackling grin as she lit her lightsabers one after the other, joyful adrenaline flooding into her. “You can’t handle me now!” She darted forward, charging that hated mask. When he prepared to parry her, she sidestepped, dropping into a crouch to sweep his legs. He stumbled forward, but as he regained his balance he swung his saber behind him, protecting himself from her next attack.

“A good opening, but can you keep it up?” He’d righted himself and turned to face her, holding his saber in both hands, following her as she stalked around him.

She swayed lithely as she slid forward, stopping, sliding back, varying her tempo, forcing him to constantly adjust to her. “Of course I can. The sight of you fills me with enough fury to fight for days. Let’s see you keep up, old man.” She attacked; he defended and retreated; she attacked again; he pushed her back with the Force but she was ready and only gave up a few feet.

“Your youth and enthusiasm is nothing next to power and experience. A pity you’ll never have time to learn that.” He stepped forward, going on the offensive, she skipped backwards, forcing him to overextend if he wanted to reach her. He didn’t take the bait and she smirked at him.

“Keep going like this and I’ll die of old age before you manage to kill me.”

“Are you nearly done trash-talking each other yet?” Murlesson complained from his seat.

“Hardly,” she said, laughing wickedly. Her hatred was in full violence, but her fury had still not reached its peak. “Come on, old man. Make me angry. I dare you.” She swooped forward, spinning, lightsabers flashing; he parried and parried and counterattacked low; she hopped over it and swung back with both sabers; he blocked in the nick of time.

He reached out with his other hand, under the block, and zapped her with lightning. She reeled, having forgotten how fond Baras was of Force lightning – oh, if only her strategist were with her! She flipped away before he could capitalize on it, nearly flubbing the landing with a twitch. That had hurt. And her hair must be awful now.

“Thank you, that will do nicely.” She gathered her breath and let it out in a furious howl before sprinting towards him, leaping into the air before him, over the lightning, stepping off his head and over. She’d nicked that hideous mask-helm on her way by, and heard it fall in pieces to the floor by the time she’d landed with a thud heavier than her feminine body ought to create.

Baras laughed heartily, shaking his head free of the shards, spinning to shoot more lightning at her. She tried to dodge instead of block and it caught her anyway, sending her reeling to one knee while agony riddled her body, wreathing her, sparking off her lightsabers. Having realized he couldn’t keep up with her in hand-to-hand combat, he was going to try to wear her down from a distance with the power of the Force. “Had enough, child? Can you feel your grip on life slipping? Why persist in this futile gesture of vengeance? Let go, embrace your death.”

She forced herself slowly back to her feet, twitching and writhing under the influence of the electricity, and managed to get her lightsabers in front of her, to channel the energy through them and safely away from her, though she was still afflicted by jerks beyond her control. But she was safe-ish, now. She snarled a smile. “Are you going to talk me to death then, old man? If you had shown me this power sooner, I might actually have respected you a little.” And not on helpless prisoners, either.

He looked exactly how she had expected him to without his mask – fat-faced, bald, wrinkled, with grey sun-starved skin and stigma of Dark Side around his mouth, his eyes. “You, the spoiled child of luxury, the blunt club of destruction? You are a stupid, violent specimen of a Sith. You have no respect for subtlety!” He raised his arms higher, trying to overwhelm her with power.

“No,” she growled, that death-mask grin fixed on her face. “I have no subtlety. That is who I am! But I am a blunt club of destruction for the Emperor! You serve only yourself!”

“You think you serve the Emperor, but you’re as much a pawn of them as you ever were of me.”

She shook her head, pacing around him, batting away lightning attacks. “A pathetic lie. But I don’t even care, because I hate you. I hate you more than anyone else in the galaxy. And yet I’m grateful to you, too, as a true Sith ought. I would have been your attack dog much longer if you’d bothered to retain my loyalty… but you went and gave me my own leash, my motivation, everything I ever needed to destroy you. So reap the rewards of your own folly!”

“My folly? My attempt to be merciful in granting you a swift end, more like! You have only yourself to blame for all that has happened since you set out on your misguided journey of rebellion!”

She pointed one of her lightsabers at him. “You are the one the blame for everything to do with the disappearance of the true Voice, the division in the Council, the division in the Empire! I will not abide you in power! I will kill you here and now and rid the universe of you!”

That fat grey face smiled slyly. “Even now, I sense these are not your full feelings. What else do you have to hide, child?”

She laughed. “That’s for me to know and you to go to the grave wondering about.” You ruined one of the most loyal sons of the Empire for no good reason. And for that I will kill you brutally. She charged again, lightsabers crackling with stolen lightning, forcing Baras back on the defensive. He brought his lightsaber forward at the last moment, and tried to Force-push her back, tried to blast her back with lightning, and his fingers sparked, she felt a slight shove, and no more.

Baras’s eyes popped. “No, my power!”

“Oh, thank you for informing me about it,” she said, and increased her attack, hacking, hacking, beating him down with all of her hatred. He was hard-pressed, backing away, and it didn’t look like he had any more tricks up his sleeve. She feinted; he fell for it; she slashed, shattering his lightsaber into fragments that clattered to the ground, and pointed her lightsaber at his throat. “You are finished!”

“Make him kneel!” Murlesson called, looking very entertained, and she smirked at him. Baras was not Thanaton.

Baras turned away from her, away from the lethality of her lightsabers waiting in her clenched, trembling hands. He was within her power, yet… she wanted to see him squirm in all his pathetic failure. “I call upon the Dark Council to kill this fool! Now! The Emperor commands it! Darth Marr, strike on the Emperor’s behalf! Or suffer his disfavour!”

“I believe I’ll take my chances,” Marr said calmly, and she shivered in delight at the dignity and power in his voice.

“Ravage, has your sense left you as well? Defend me! Defend the Voice!”

Ravage shook his head. “I will not stand in the way of the Emperor’s Wrath.”

Baras turned to her in rage, tried to swat her aside with a Force-push that barely ruffled her white hair. “You think you’ve won? You think you can silence the Emperor’s true Voice? Deliver the death blow, then. From beyond darkness, I shall strike at you! Someday, vengeance will be mine!” His voice was getting hoarse.

“Someday, someday, someday.” She sneered at him. “When my powers are even greater than yours, old man? You prattle on so. For now, my vengeance is sweet, and pleasing to my only master.” She lunged forward, stabbing him through the heart.

Baras gurgled and collapsed. Too quick. She had killed him too quick. And it hadn’t been a completely clean win; he’d lost his powers, been weakened, before she could finish him. Quinn’s droids had been a more satisfying fight. At least it was done with.

“At last, the end of Baras,” Vowrawn said, beaming. “The air clears, and my lungs breathe deeply again. You have proven that you are truly touched by the Emperor. The Dark Council knows that the Emperor’s Wrath has free reign.”

“You are acknowledged, Wrath,” said Darth Marr. “Your actions will not be challenged as long as they do not contradict our own.”

“You are answerable only to our ultimate master,” said Vowrawn.

“We must see that no other selfish ambitions threaten the stability of the Empire,” she declared. “I am ready to work with you to ensure our rightful dominance in the galaxy.” She saw Murlesson tilt his head and frowned slightly at him. Don’t undermine me, boy, even in your mad twisted hatred.

Vowrawn stood. “Let the enemies of the Empire tremble! The Emperor’s Wrath shall consume them all!” As one, the Council stood with him, and bowed their heads to her.

She lifted her own head proudly. “Take care, then. I’ll return when necessary.” She waved her fingers sardonically and strode for the door. Her work here was done.

 

He became aware of dim blue light through his eyelids, and decided he’d been sleeping long enough. Why had he been sleeping so long? He was probably late for his shift.

No. He’d been stabbed, nearly fatally, and dragged away by Broonmark before the assassin could finish him off. He hadn’t expected to wake up again in the first place.

But now he was awake, so he ought to get back to work before Akuliina got any angrier at him, as she no doubt was. He didn’t feel in pain at all. He must have been in kolto for quite a while.

Was Akuliina even still there? Perhaps she had left him behind once and for all. Perhaps he was still on Corellia, abandoned, fallen between the cracks of the Empire’s systems. Maybe… the assassin had killed her.

He opened his eyes, blinking against even the dim light of the empty kolto tank, and figured that if he was waking up in the Fury’s medbay, that she wasn’t dead, and she hadn’t left him behind. In fact, she was sitting on the other cot, reading something on her datapad.

“You’ll strain your eyes, my lord,” he rasped through a disused throat, and had the satisfaction of seeing her jump in surprise.

She jumped up, leaning over him, still looking surprised – and even a little worried? “Quinn!” Then thunderclouds gathered in her eyes as he’d expected. “You could have died, stupid! How dare you? And what’s with all this ‘my lord’? That’s not what you’re to call me! We established this!”

She’d forgiven him. She’d forgiven him. It was like a new day dawned in his heart, and he felt a slightly foolish smile cross his face. That was his furious angel. “It was to serve you, my lady.”

“If I wanted you dead, I’d have done it myself, don’t do it again,” she huffed grumpily, plumping herself down on the edge of his cot, her arms folded across her chest.

“You were killing me, slowly,” he said softly, tempted to reach out to her, but not daring to yet. “It was either that or kill myself and have done with it.”

She blinked and pouted at the far wall. “’msry.”

“I beg your pardon, I didn’t hear you, my lady.”

“I’m not saying it again,” she said haughtily, and he smiled.

A thought occurred to him. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“A month in kolto, another week in recovery.” She hesitated, then said coldly: “Baras is dead.”

He sighed in relief, letting his head rest back on his pillow. “Good. I hope he was not too difficult for you.”

“He was a fat old man. Of course it wasn’t too difficult.” She nodded towards the datapad. “I got the recording from Vowrawn. We can watch it later, if you wish.”

“I’d… like that.” Confirmation that he was free from a master who cared nothing for him other than as a mindless tool, and she’d said ‘we’. Both very reassuring things. “When shall I return to my duties, my lady?”

“When you feel ready,” she said. “We’ve been getting by without you, but things just don’t run the same without you. And there’s been the transition, and I need someone to help me organize my new holdings and subordinates and-” She stopped abruptly, just when he was getting excited – or worried – about the new challenges ahead of him. “But you’re not to worry about that at least until tomorrow. For now, continue to rest. I want you in peak condition as soon as possible.”

“Yes, my lady.” He smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Of course you would be. And of course I require you on my missions. I can’t leave my pilot and strategist in Dromund Kaas, what a waste. But there will be people to delegate while we’re away.”

“Missions, my lady?” Thank goodness. He wanted action, too. But she couldn’t help but drag him into it, so he was safe on that account.

She tossed her head. “I am the Emperor’s Wrath.”

“You are.” She’d unfolded her arms, and her hands were resting at her sides on the bed. He reached out and covered one with his own hand, and she jumped again, but didn’t move away. “And I love you.”

She stared at him, her face unreadable but looking strangely young and fragile in the dim blue light, then tried to affect prideful unconcern. “Do you, no-”

“Do you love me?”

She stared even longer.

“Akuliina.”

She took a deep breath, looking away from his eyes again. Under his hand, he felt a faint tremour in hers.

 

She didn’t want to say it. She was furious at herself for it, but… she was afraid to.

Look at him, the Force whispered to her. Look how open he is, completely vulnerable, for you, waiting on your word. And that openness was intoxicating, drawing her – she wanted to dive in, claim him, make him her own. But that would have meant making herself his, too.

He loves you. He’s different from the others, still. He’d do anything for you, including get himself killed again. Foolish, but loyal, and endearing… and deserving something in return. An answer, at the very least.

Besides, that’s how you feel too, isn’t it?

“Yes.”

He stroked her hand. “Why is it so hard for you to say?”

She glared at him without any real acrimony. “Because it requires me to be vulnerable. To show weakness. And I hate that.” You are my weakness, she’d said once, and meant it still. That was probably as close as she was ever getting to saying ‘I love you’ aloud. She lowered her gaze again. “Especially with everything that’s happened between us… I almost gave up on trusting anyone again.” Forget about Draahg’s taunting about the Light Side. The fact was, if she couldn’t have Quinn, she didn’t want anyone.

“Truly?” He didn’t believe her, she could tell. Because she was young? How insulting.

“You doubt me?”

“No.”

“Your heart says otherwise,” she said sternly. “Don’t lie to me again, even to placate me.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And if you break my heart again, I really will kill you.”

“Akuliina…” He struggled to a sitting position and reached out to her. She came willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder as he closed his arms around her, where she’d longed to be for weeks. He was warm, his breathing even and soothing, his voice deep and soft, and she could hear the tiny noises his mouth made when he wasn’t speaking. “You have my most sincere apologies for everything I’ve ever done to you.”

“I know,” she whispered. “The time between your betrayal and now… that is sealed for me. We will never speak of it again. If there is anything lasting between us, that is how it has to be.”

“I understand. You need never doubt me again. I have no more doubts. About anything. Especially you.”

She raised her head and looked in his deep blue eyes, her own unwontedly serious. “Don’t… leave my side again… Malavai.”

“Akuliina-” He reached up to kiss her at the same time she leaned in, and for long minutes he was lost in the sweetness of her mouth, and she felt a flutter in her heart she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Yes. He was hers… and she was his. She’d humble herself that much, only for him. And he’d never betray her again. Probably.

Right now she could drown in kisses, kisses she’d been starved for, feel his hands on her back, feel her hands in his dark hair… He needed a haircut. And a shave.

She wanted him for more than kisses, but pulled away before she could lose control. “I should let you rest.”

“But I’ve been resting,” he said, a little petulantly, resting his hands on her hips.

She smiled wickedly. “Trust me, it’s all or nothing. So take this chance while you can.” She kissed him one more time, slow and sweet and tortuously teasing, before withdrawing. “I’ll see you in the morning, Captain.”

“Sleep well, my lady.” He smiled fondly at her, and she smiled back.

 

They were headed back to Dromund Kaas, for the first time in a very long time, it seemed to him. The Dark Council had turned over Baras’s former holdings, including his spy network and what had been previously Darth Vengean’s chambers, to her – as was tradition when a Sith was defeated. It seemed she preferred to make her luxurious apartment her main base of operations, but she was frequently at the Sith Sanctum, often with Jaesa, who had become a respected Lord in her own right. And her military personnel had their own barracks, led by Pierce, and a small but growing contingent of soldiers. She had resources, and was managing them all quite capably… but there was still plenty for him to do.

He was a little surprised to see Ensign- er, Commander- no, Lieutenant Slinte around the barracks as well. “With Baras dead, there was no need for him to remain on Kuat, when he belongs to me,” she said. “I think he’s loyal. Still, his main talent is logistics, so keep him away from intelligence.”

“Yes, my lady.” And he was very pleased to find a brand new uniform, with brightly polished boots, ready for him the day after they’d arrived. His promotion to Captain Second Class had finally gone through, and with it had come a bonus, so he bought a bottle of Akuliina’s favourite Chandrilan wine after work one day and headed for her apartment.

She had said she would never speak of the time he betrayed her again, but sometimes in her glance there were shades of pain and distrust. He knew she probably couldn’t help it – it had only happened a couple months ago, and left a deep wound that was likely to scar as badly as the one on her right side. He himself often found himself assailed by guilt, even now, and had to avoid her eyes when he felt it.

So maybe a gift would be some small healing for both of them.

She was surprised and pleased by it, and they opened it to drink on the balcony. It wasn’t his preferred drink… a bit sweet for his taste… but of course he wouldn’t say no. And this particular bottle turned out to be not bad.

She seemed a little bothered by something, after she’d finished her usual interrogation about work and talking about the trials of her own day. “I have something to ask you.”

With a beginning like that, he began to get nervous himself. “Yes, my lady?” She frowned at him until he realized this was supposed to be more intimate than that. “Akuliina?”

She took a deep breath. “Are you certain you want to stay with me?”

The nervous lump in his gut grew bigger. “Of course I do. Why do you ask?”

She pouted and swirled what was left of her wine. “Normal couples don’t… do what we do.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re my lover, yes, but you’re also my subordinate, almost my servant… even my slave, if I felt like it. I have all the power between us. I can’t accept… a man who thinks he’s better than me, but – most people…” She trailed off, her usual boldness muted by the fact that she wasn’t good at talking about this sort of thing, he knew.

“We’re not most people,” he told her, and found his reassuring smile was a little bit twisted. “No, most people would not call what we have a healthy relationship. But that doesn’t matter to me. I am your subordinate, your servant… even your slave, if you wish it.” Because he got off on that, too, with her arrogance, her power, her own set of kinks that meshed with his. In all seriousness, he couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather serve under… and perhaps someday marry, if she wanted that too. “I have no doubts about you, as I said. About us. In the past, I’ve been too rigid, too inflexible.”

“But I like you rigid, and it’s my job to be flexible,” she said with a wicked grin.

He blushed. She certainly was at that. “What I meant was, I won’t hold back with my wishes and desires any longer. You said I was too much like a droid once, and you were right. But now…”

She set down her glass and turned to face him head-on. “Now?”

“Let’s go back inside, and I’ll show you what I mean,” he said, and saw her shiver, her lips parting in anticipation. Before she could jump him, though, he’d stepped forward, pulling her into his arms and dip-kissing her.

 

She felt a jolt in her stomach as he kissed her hard, dipping her low. What a romantic, she thought. The spark of adrenaline radiated through her body, so much like fear – exactly like fear, but with the excited anticipation of things to come rather than dread.

They parted and she knew her eyes were sparkling; his eyes were tender, open to her, caring. “You are mine,” she whispered, clinging to him.

“I am yours,” he acknowledged.

“And I am yours,” she said, even more softly, and he sighed helplessly and kissed her even harder. “You said something about going back inside, yes…?”