#ziost

My Agent's companion achievement progress:

The smuggler is so funny.

I love the idea that the Sith Emperor hadn't really thought anything of her, like she's just an annoying mosquito not even worthy to squash, but she's been really screwing with his plans and being obnoxious about it so now he's giving his Full Attention.

“Theron—“ She took a sudden step towards him because what she was going to ask, he wouldn’t like. Kira wouldn’t like it much either, but she would understand. She knew this part of her destiny. Knew what it would take. Understood the cost. Her fingers curled around his arm, just at the elbow. “Hey, we got this,” he said, trying to be reassuring. “I know. The weapon will work, but it won’t kill him. It will free the thralls, but he’ll still be here. Theron, I need you to promise me something.” “Of course. Whatever you need.” The corner of her lip curled slightly because he would not have made that promise if he knew what she was about to ask.

because now I'm like.. what if Jas never tells him. What if he just FINDS OUT. THAT SHE NEVER TOLD HIM. I mean it probably just slips her mind cuz kovach does not fucking matter, but then Theron's all "hey, my guy kovach, what ever happened to him?" and then she homer simpson's into a hedge because he definitely fucking knows before he even asks her the question

This is a segment of a future chapter for my long form fic on Ao3. Read the beginning of it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73954831/chapters/192915106

3 days before Operation Silence - Ziost - New Adasta 

The handy thing about Imperials was that you could always trust them to be bigoted. Well… some of them at least. Theron scratched at his collar as he pulled out a lit smokestick from between his lips and blew smoke out the corner of his mouth. He took a long look at the cards in front of him and sighed deeply. He threw them face up onto the table, “I fold.”

The Imperial officer at the other end of their dinky, little table laughed. It was a deep throated ugly sound, like a goat getting murdered.

“I knew you’d fold. You had that look in your eyes.”

Theron only shrugged as he took another drag of his smokestick.

The officer eyed him, his flabby round cheeks red from his excessive good humour, in stark contrast to his pale, blue eyes that held nothing but contempt for everything and everyone. He was a hateful little man that only took joy in smoking, drinking and gambling away all his credits and who filled whatever was left of his sad, little life with a burning hatred for the Republic and its tolerance of so-called ‘lesser beings’. In other words he was the very thing Theron despised most. Luckily they didn’t need to be friends for this to work.

The officer, a Lieutenant Brauker as he was called, started shuffling Theron’s credit stacks towards his half of the table. He mumbled his words out through the edge of his mouth that wasn’t filled with cigarettes, “Why do you even want this gig anyways?”

Theron rolled his shoulders back lazily and pretended to think about it, “I’m bored I guess. Heard Nox was testing something out. I wanted to see it for myself.”

“Heh. I wouldn’t get my hopes up. That’s just a rumour. Couldn’t care less about that sort of junk anyway, not when she’s got all those aliens infecting the ship.”

Theron didn’t bother replying to that.

“Well, if you want my post I ain’t gonna stop ya. There’s better things to do with my life than canoodle with Nox’s little freaks. Especially now that I’ve got these new shinies.”

He started rubbing his hands together and counting up his stacks. Theron watched him carefully, waiting to see if there was any hesitation or doubt in the middle aged, blonde man. Brauker only grinned as he pocketed the credits. Smoke from their cigarettes was starting to blanket them in a heavy smog, as dulled music from the cantina beyond the back room started to play. It was a bass heavy song that made the table rattle to its rhythm. Brauker pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and slid it over the desk.

“Here. The official form stating that you, Lieutenant Pyke, will be taking over my post. It’s a little messy but it’s the real deal. Got my signature and everything.”

Theron was careful not to get any stray ash on the form as he picked it up and assessed it. It had caf stains at the bottom left corners and it smelt strongly of grease and smoke, but it seemed legitimate. It also had a plastoid seal at the top corner, an Imperial artifact that was much harder to forge than it looked. There was no way someone like Brauker would bother going through all that effort; it had to be real. He nodded and slipped the sheet into his breast pocket. He needed to get this to an Imperial personnel and resources office as soon as possible if he wanted to board the Doombringer before it took off for Dantooine. Luckily, here on Ziost, there were quite a few of these offices around. 

And from a roleplaying perspective, there's so much room for imagining why your character chooses to do this, and how it affects them.

"I am going to hunt that man to the end of this galaxy and beyond."