i am the queen of a blood soaked planet.

L O A D I N G : // …  8ABY : MONTH TWO … //

all their comms going out was a drastic happening that the spy did not have a clear back-up plan or protocol on. not in the way that it had happened. it was the first time in a long time that the mild panic that she felt in her chest was not entirely artificial, utterly unprepared. she hadn’t felt like this since she had first been brought through the emperor’s rift. “i think – i think i need to go,” they murmured. “to dathomir, i think. i know that it’s not the most helpful thing but if we’re cut off… i just, i need to know.”

         ❝oh that’s not entirely true❞ quinlan said his voice hinting the beginning of a tease, ❝trust me after you helped little ‘soka and kenobi, plenty jedi started to see you in a different light❞ he finished with a wink, and hoped she would still want to dance with him after that comment on her true nature, a good heart.

       quinlan feels the pull towards her, not just physically but —despite what the order might believe— the force that brought them together. ❝what do you want to do my love, do you want to dance?❞ quinlan asks bringing a hand up to gently brush the back of his fingers against her cheek, ❝have i told you you are the most beautiful being i’ve ever met…❞

“ oh , i  know. ”  self - fulfilling  teases  slide  from  playfully - quirked  lips  , hand  sliding  to  clasp  his  that  rests  on  their  cheek  ,  leaning  into  quinlan’s  touch. “ but  i  appreciate  the  reminder  ,  darling. ” a  playful  frown  touches  her  face  ,  a  clearly  falsified  grimace  even  as  they  move  closer  to  him. “ i  don’t  appreciate  the  reminder  of  my  good  deeds ,  however. i  get  that  enough  from  kenobi. ”

invitation  to  dance  accepted  ,  one  hand  moves  to  rest  on  the  back  of  his  neck , pulling  the  jedi  in  for  a  brief  kiss ,  taking  the  moment  of  bliss  &  peace. “ i’m  glad  you’re  back ,  vos. ” the  name  she’d  always  called  him  then  ,  quinlan  reserved  for  the  longest  time  , some  part  of  her  thinking  that  it  would  help  her  avoid  falling  for  the  jedi  even  as  she’d  slipped  head  over  heels. 

          quinlan still couldn’t believe he had agreed to come to this celebration —it was a glorified ballroom party, but it did made him feel better to call it celebration— he realized with a sigh that at the end of the day after so many years there really wasn’t anything he would deny obi-wan. he had of course disguise it as keeping an eye on him, and having his back. and as the hapan guards took away all their weapons, quinlan was relieved that ventress had accepted his invitation to the event, aside from wanting to spend this night with her, if a fight were to break out she was definitely someone he would want fighting by his side.

        of course if it was up to quinlan, he would convince her to leave everything behind and settle for a simple quiet life, they had earned it after all. but of course neither of them were those kind of people, and even if ventress would never admit it, there were those that they needed to keep an eye on, those they needed to keep safe. that didn’t mean that they could not enjoy this night, there were still so many things quinaln wanted to say to ventress, he was hoping she would give him a chance. 

       if he had been less intent on stealing some moments of happiness, quinlan might have noticed the call from deep within the castle, instead he just smirked at her words, ❝if you want to get me alone you just have to say it.❞ quinlan took a few steps closer to her, ❝a few,❞ the jedi said scanning the room, ❝what about you? any friends on the crowd?❞ quinlan teased her.

❝ no  friends , ❞ she  affirms , not  even  bothering  to  glance  out  at  the  growing  crowd.  ❝ if  there  were , i  think  there  might  be  trouble. ❞ friends  wasn’t  a  word  ventress  used  often ,  and  those  she  did  consider  under  that  label  were  considered  by  most  to  be  of  the  unsavory  type.   ❝ more  than  enough  people  who  want  my  head , though. ❞  to  be  fair  ,  that  was practically   the  whole  republic  in  their  time  -  it  wasn’t  her  choice  that  many  of  them  had  been  brought  back , too. 

It  occurred  to  Dooku  in  that  moment  that  this  nightsister  must  have  known  him.  No  one  would  have  that  kind  of  rage  without  some  kind  of  acquaintanceship.  When  the  trandoshan  is  safely  away,  he  lets  the  ceiling  fall,  the  rubble  creating  a  dust  cloud  for  a  moment.  He  uses  his  cape  to  deflect  some  of  the  debris,  The  Force  pushing  some  that  would  have  landed  on  them.  “  Thank  you.  “  he  says,  though  it  seems  like  she  wants  no  one  to  believe  that  she  would  help  anyone.  “  You  are  strong  in  The  Force.  “  The  Nightsisters  had  magic  that  he  would  never  understand  but  this  was  different.  He  had  felt  the  surge  of  energy  as  they  had  used  their  strength  to  assist  with  the  rubble.  

The  blue  of  his  saber  glowed  as  he  turned  it  on,  holding  it  in  one  hand  as  his  eyes  scanned  the  facility.  “  You  are  proficient  in  Makashi  form  as  well.  “  he  noted,  having  watched  her  strike  down  the  guard.  He  turned  on  his  heels,    “  Come,  this  will  collapse  on  us  soon.  “  he  took  off  running,  hoping  that  the  nightsister  would  follow  him.  

you  are  strong  in  the  force , you  are  proficient  in  makashi , what  the  fuck  was  he  talking  about ? of  course  she  was ,  he’d  made  sure  of  that ; they  still  had  saber - burn  scars  from  their  failings  in  learning  the  dueling  style. 

“ you’re  observant , ” snides  the  dathomirian , low  &  level , practiced  rancor  flowing  from  her  tongue.  still , she  cannot  help  the  lure  that  calls  her  to  follow  the  count , an  invitation  in  the  force  like  a  light  shining  in  the  red  caves  of  her  home  planet , bidding  her  explore. 

when quin came back from his mission, aayla had one thing in mind - get rid of the nightsister, avenge her master’s mind.

have justice for tholme, too, they knew ventress killed him as well. quin had told them everything about what happened, once he’d been ready to talk. revenge wasn’t the jedi way, though, so aayla didn’t do anything, and she wasn’t about to do anything to ventress now either. what was the point, really? “i wasn’t talking about invitation, i couldn’t care less about whether you broke in or not,” they said, shrugging. “i’ve heard downstairs is restricted though.”

“ could  care  less ? ” the  nightsister  laughs , a  scratched  sound , eyeing  aayla  with  an  air  of  amusement. “ that’s  not  very  jedi-like  of  you ,  knight  secura. ”  the  rank  is  almost  a  jab , balanced  on  the  knife’s  edge , to  be  taken  as  aayla  pleased  ( which  would  almost  certainly  be  an  insult ). 

The  deep  rage  he  felt  now,  something  radiating  through  the  Nightsister,  was  the  kind  of  emotion  that  could  be  felt  across  rooms.  Across  galaxies,  he  thought  to  himself,  though  it  was  a  fleeting  thought  as  he  narrowly  avoided  a  piece  of  ceiling  that  had  fallen.  This  one  is  strong  in  The  Force,  he  noted.  “  Young  one,  help  me  hold  this  ceiling  up  for  a  moment,  if  you  will.  “  his  hands  had  shot  out  to  hold  the  pieces  together  as  another  party  goer  attempted  to  free  a  Trandoshan  man  from  under  the  ceiling.  There’s  sweat  on  his  brow  line  now  and  he  met  their  eyes.  “  I  know  of  your  gifts,  of  course.  “  he  assumed  that  was  Ventress’  shock.  He  knew  of  the  assassin  that  his  future  self  had  trained,  but  he  did  not  recognize  her  as  that  assassin.  

“ of  course  you  do , ” dark  lips  hiss , yellow  saber  flickering  in  their  hands  as  she  turns ,  striking  down  a  hapan  guard  who  had  seemed  to  not  be  aware  of  her  reputation.  he  falls ,  and  her  pale  hands reach  out , long  fingers stretching  towards  the  rubble ,  force  flowing  through  them  with  a  surge  of  power  &  energy , the  adrenaline  &  exertion  almost  thrilling. 

it had been a long time since zarafet had seen any markings like that on another –– her own incomplete and likely to remain that way for at least as long as she was fee solvi. for a brief moment, though, she forgot who she was meant to be, as though starstruck by the other’s presence. a few seconds passed before she was able to swallow the sudden lump stuck inside of her throat and actually approach them, trying to maintain an air of composure. she can’t break the persona that she had lived under for five years, no matter how tempting it was. not even for her. no matter how badly she wanted to. “you… you’re a nightsister.”

it takes a moment for asajj ventress to realize the truth that stands before her. the only nightsister left in the galaxy was the face that stared at them in the mirror, dark circles under dark eyes, haunted by the memory of massacre & magick & dust. 

or so they’d believed.

& for the first time in her rather long life ( considering, well . . . quite everything she was and had been ), the nightsister was overcome with the urge to grasp a stranger by the hands, cup their face, pull them in - and see if it stuck. they had seen mirages before, created ghosts that haunted with faces of the familiar; years of being on the defensive screamed that this was a trick, an illusion. 

but she was asajj ventress, and had a rather dark reputation to maintain. so they did no such thing.

walking around, aayla studied every corner of her surroundings. this was a new place, new building, new planet that they’d never been to before. not at all an uncommon experience — the war had made them travel even more that they used to, as quinlan’s padawan. even with that, she never went to hapes. never thought she’d ever go to this palace. but there aayla was. she told bly she needed some air, and went off on her own for a while. checking for exits, escapes routes, not even noticing what she was doing. aayla liked to say they weren’t a soldier. yet — there was a surge in the force, and aayla tensed up. while the two hadn’t met, she’d recognize this face anywhere. holos were more than enough to know how asajj ventress looked like.

“you know you’re not allowed to go in, right?” aayla said, trying not to roll their eyes.

sight alone through sharp eyes was enough for the dathomiran to recognize the figure on approach, despite the obvious lack of lightsaber at her side - quite an irritating rule from hapan security, & an idiotic one ( as if anyone who truly desired a weapon at a gala like this wasn’t smart enough to discover the parameters to bringing one, something she had begun to reason before halting at quinlan’s request ).

black velvet swirled as the former assassin turned, glint in their dark eyes & an edge-of-amused smile gracing her thin lips. hostility was to be expected from someone like aayla secura, both a devoted jedi knight ( or so the propaganda holos shouted ) & considering who her master had been - & what ventress had caused. the force was willing her to give a lot of apologies at this event, apparently.

ventress knew her face well from holovids, however - the senator had been inescapable during the clone wars, regardless of the allegiance of whichever planet one found themselves on - and that was enough to recognize the woman. they'd be lying if they said she hadn't done some research into the nabooan, mostly at dooku's behest ( and once on her own, with some rather interesting results & revelations ). knowing her significance ( and her powerful friends ), the former sith had avoided any bounties on her head. she'd made the mistake of threatening padme's life once, and nearly paid with her life. that was not an experienced they desired to repeat any time soon, especially considering the whispers of what - or more accurately, who - anakin skywalker had become.

despite their proximity, she still had no desire nor urge to approach the rather intimidatingly well-dressed woman. what the hell would she even have to say? sorry i almost killed your lover several times. my bad! won't do it again!

still, she stole glances. curiosity killed the cat, and it would certainly kill ventress - or, at least, that was how it felt when brown eyes met her own blue.

          obi-wan had been keeping tabs on as many people as possible, the more he learned about the life he had not lived, the more he wished it had not happened the way it did. but everything is as the force wills it, and obi-wan had always let the force work through him. so when news of a familiar face at pantora reached him, he could not help but jump on a ship and travel there.

       he had no idea which ventress he would find. so far the rift had no sense to it, it took and it brought back, and it snatched, and plucked away, and gave second chances across time and space, the entire history of the galaxy in the hands of the force, as it had always been, as it should always be. 

       the jedi’s last memory of asajj ventress was that of a fierce sith assassin who had him at every turn. but he had learned about how she had left the sith influence, and how she had helped ahsoka when he had not, and for that he would always be grateful. whatever he could do to help ventress in this new reality, unless of course he found a much older ventress, then maybe she might help him fill in the blanks. 

        ❝ventress❞ obi-wan greeted the dathomirian, ❝you look well❞ he said with a sincere tone, nothing like the flirtatious quips they had exchanged in their many confrontations, ❝and as young as i remember, so i take it you were brought forward through the rift?❞ he asked tentatively taking a few steps back, hand still away from the lightsaber pinned to his hip, ❝curiosity brought me here, i wanted to know if you still wanted to kill me…❞ 

“forward in time?” lips let out a hoarse laugh, dark amusement on her features. “there wasn’t another option, i’m afraid.” dooku had seen to that. obi-wan, however . . . she’d heard of him living long past herself, far into the age of the empire. but the man before her was just as she remembered leaving him, if a year or two younger and lacking the dark circles under his eyes that skywalker’s company ( & her own antagonism ) had undoubtedly brought. even the order’s brightest jedi could be sunk by three years of war & death.

“don’t flatter yourself.” 

slender fingers signal to the bartender, sliding a drink across the stained counter towards the jedi. they’d never known him to drink, but the rift had certainly changed her - who knew? it might have made kenobi pick up more frowned upon habits. 

it would be, if not for what it meant. you could bring her far from the gritty streets of coruscant, but the instinct that had been bred in ventress there remained. take what you can to survive. and while funding had been rather easy to come by in this new time, the feeling remained. even here, where there had been such a pretense of security & secrecy & safety, a watchful feeling still lingered, a warning remaining.

of course, that was probably her fault.

quinlan's invitation had not been accepted with ulterior motives ( other than perhaps a new year kiss, as frivolous as the tradition was ), but had since gained them. a bone-knawing calling had gripped the dathomirian since they had stepped into the palace, a hand reaching out through the force, shrouded but unmistakable in energy. an edge of home, of red wastes & green mists, but reminiscent of dooku's teachings - albeit, burdened with far more power. a sith artifact, that was certain - and perhaps touched with shadow magick.

drink in hand, they watched the kiffar jedi next to them carefully, curious of any sign of similar recognition. it would be far easier to try to find it with his help ( although, stars forbid, she ever tell him that he was useful. it was far more fun to watch him hang on to the rare compliment. ).

"it's busy in here." a question & a suggestion, accompanied by a languid sip of a honeyed drink. "recognize any faces?"

the streets of coruscant quinlan & ventress

          if he had become one with the force why was he still in pain? why did his heart felt shattered, the force in a scream. why had the slaughter not ended yet? tapping into the force had become impossible, not without feeling the tears in life itself, so quinlan decided to wander around the temple, and what he found made him wish he never made it out of that battlefield in kashyyyk. whatever had happened to the place he once called home? everything was gone, replaced by, stars he wasn’t even sure what any of this meant, but this was no longer the jedi temple, what had he expected? didn’t he feel them die across the galaxy?

        never one to shy away from showing his emotions, quinlan let the tears fall before wiping them angrily, determined to find out what had happened, he ventured into the coruscanti streets, he was after all very intimate with every passage. what he did not expect was to feel a force signature that he had lost all hope of ever feeling again. 

          ❝maybe i died after all❞ he said taking a few tentative steps towards the woman who had saved him, ❝how is this possible?❞ a hand slowly rising hoping she wouldn’t stop it from reaching her face.

ventress had never been good at listening to what the force had to say. fuck destiny, fuck the will of the force; she made her own path in the galaxy, separate from any order or command.

so when the force had called to her that morning, they had not listened. an incessant tug in her stomach, a hum in their ear, the feeling of being watched but no one there when they turned. maybe the lack of light from living in the underlevels of coruscant was finally getting to her. ( or maybe she’d finally cracked. wouldn’t that be funny? having survived it all just to lose it now. )

seeing quinlan vos standing before her must be that. must be her brain, the force - hell, even dooku - playing tricks. she’d died. he’d died. some strange power had brought her back, but the fates & force had never been on her side, never wanted her to win. ( why else would it have ended as it had, after years of knowing nothing but suffering & survival ? ).

but there he was, speaking in that familiar soft tone he’d reserved only for them, something no mirage conjured up by dark power could replicate. or so she let themselves hope. 

it took a moment for the name to be remembered. “secura.” quinlan’s former padawan. they’d heard stories - lots of them - from the jedi in their time together, but it had not been in their fates to meet. ( then, at least ).