The Darkest Hearts of Men

[Dorian Argenus]

Nar Shaddaa
Red Light Sector

The Leaky Tankard was one of his usual haunts and it wasn't only because the Twi'lek that worked there happened to be a frequent lay of his. If he was being honest, and he usually wasn't, Dorian Argenus hung around the place because it had decent food, better information cycling through the patrons than most dives, and the bartender happened to like him. He entered the small establishment from the transit hub corridor, raking a seemingly disinterested stare across the front most occupants before heading right for the counter. The bartender, a male Zeltron by the name of Orik, whistled when he saw Dorian heading his way, his red hued hands busily buffing the rinse water from a glass with a mostly clean towel. The whistle was on account of his bruised eye, opposite from his scarred side, the split lip he sported, and the blood crusted along the creases of his swollen knuckles.

"You've looked worse." The Zeltron said with a faint grin, setting down the glass behind the counter and then leaning over it as Dorian stepped up behind his customary stool. It was pretty slow for the time of night but it was Primeday, all of the usuals having scurried off to their shitty jobs scattered about this equally shitty sector. "I suppose you'll be wanting the usual?" Orik said, seeing as how Dorian hadn't responded to his gibe.

"Yes, Orik. The usual." He finally mustered, having been temporarily distracted with checking his surroundings. Damn if it didn't feel like someone was watching him. Rather than placing the expected bottle of liquor on the table for him, the bartender brought up a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a clean cloth, and a shot of whiskey. He flashed him a grin and then made a grab for the bottle of rubbing alcohol, pouring some onto the rag.

"You ain't crazy, by the way. You do have a visitor. Said she knew you back when. Good looking, if you aren't interested I wouldn't mind you sending her my way." Orik told him, nodding over Dorian's right shoulder toward a row of secluded booths. Dorian looked over in that direction, espying a red head. He arched a brow, threw back the shot, and then brought the rubbing alcohol and rag along for the rendezvous. He didn't look his best, hell he never did, but it would have to do; far be it from him to keep a lady waiting. He wore a tight black t-shirt, which was obviously layered with another white one beneath it, black pants, and a scuffed up pair of combat boots.

He came around the booth where the woman sat, setting down the bottle of rubbing alcohol, the rag, and then reaching back to fish a pack of smokes out of his pocket. "Well, well, look who has graced us with her presence. Long time no see, Red."

[Satkia Beltrak]

Being back on Nar Shaddaa felt damn good. Even after all those years, it still was home to Satkia. The Jedi Master, a path most people ignored everything about, was glad to have found the enclave on Ossus, but after years of living from one planet to the other, being in a place with a bunch of other Jedi baffled her to a degree. After her latest mission with her friend and student Cordelia, she had needed the break. Cordi had understood even when Nar Shaddaa was a place most people tried to avoid, unless they were criminals. The redhead knew full well that the planet was a hive for such people but there was more to her home world than that.

Dressed in black pants, a blue top hugging her curves and her usual black leather, she had arrived at the Leaky Tankard for a bit now. She had heard that a longtime acquaintance - friend? hot specimen who loved antagonizing her? Whatever - was around. So she had made sure that the bartender would tell Dorian he was expected.

Sipping on a Reactor Core at her booth, she sensed Dorian even before he entered. There were some people like that she had known for way too long and could pick on even without looking and not just because she was a Jedi Master. All bruised and beaten up, he looked even more attractive than in his cleanest state. She took a bloody long gulp from her glass and stared at him as he joined her.

"Good to see you. You're not bleeding as much as the last time we crossed paths." She observed in a quirky tone, her gaze lingering on him long enough.

"Your friend-making skills are still stellar then."

[Dorian Argenus]

Slate grey eyes smoothed over her familiar features as she took that long gulp from her glass, tracing the fall of her tresses in a curious sort of way. Her words prompted a genuine grin from the jack-of-all-trades, one that was promptly hidden behind the end of a cigarra and the expected flash of his lighter. A cloud of spicy scented, charcoal hued smoke billowed from between his split lips and drifted toward the building's metal rafters and a low chuckle escaped Dorian at her next words.

"You know me... with friends like mine, who needs enemies?" He replied in amusement, sliding into the booth but not opposite of her. No, he sidled in right along side her, bumping his hip into her's to get her to scoot. Regardless of whether he was left with his ass hanging off the side or she afford him some room, he flicked the ashes of his partially spent narco-cigarra into the designated tray and then draped his arm along the back of the booth right behind her.

"So, Red, what brings you to Nar Shaddaa? I'd like to think it was because you missed me but you always were a woman with big ideas. Come to save the poor souls of the sector? You have your work cut out for you, considering most of us aren't looking to be saved."

[Satkia Beltrak]

She had missed this. The dive, the smells and smokes, the hard liquor and the hint of never-ending danger. It wasn't just for a cheap thrill, but the place made her feel alive. She didn't think many Jedi would advocate being on Nar Shaddaa to be in greater harmony with the Force but it did that to her.

"You make friends, I make enemies. But I'm the one with the loudest mouth, right?" She teased him with a grin before he slid to her side. She made room for him, patting him on the thigh with her free hand, the other still firmly holding her glass. That was one thing that had worried her about the whole Jedi enclave. She had wondered whether the norm was to go back to the whole celibacy fashion. She wasn't a maneater, but she was no kriffin nun if she got the right partner.

She smirked to what he said about her. "Well I'm better at saving people' asses than souls." She chuckled, rolling her eyes at her self-jab.

She was glad to be a Jedi. It was a significant part of who she was, but she didn't know if she had it in her to stay somewhere in a semi-permanent fashion. She had lived under the radar for so long.

"I needed a vacation," she finally admitted, her shoulders dropping so slightly before she grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass, before leaning against the back of the booth, her fire-like mane lingering over his arm.

[Dorian Argenus]

But I'm the one with the loudest mouth, right?

"Hmm.. maybe. We could test that theory out at my place later, if you'd like..." He replied smoothly, aiming a half smirk at her before releasing another plume of smoke upward; his slate grey eyes lifting to watch the tenuous smog mingle with the dim, dome-shaped lighting suspended above the booth. He bowed his head afterward and continued grinning after her next comment, his eyes dipping across her frame in a not-so-subtle perusal as she rolled her eyes at herself.

Her admission evoked an understanding series of nods from him, his gaze changing direction a few different times; taking in the sag of her shoulders, the adroit set of gestures that brought the bottle of liquor closer and poured her another round, and finally the lean that sent her fiery hair spilling across his bared but tattoo covered forearm. His index finger snagged a strand of her hair, ever so gently, and began to twirl it around and around. His other hand slid forward, dashing his cigarra, snagging her glass, and then stealing a sip from it.

"Well, I can think of better places for a vacation, not that I've ever been to any of them. Regardless, I'm glad you're back. Been damn dull without you."

[Satkia Beltrak]

"Promises, promises..." Satkia teased back with a grin. The place was no upper-scale vacation spot. There was no beach, the music wasn't even as good as it could be in other dives on Nar Shaddaa. Crime was lurking in the dark, and yet, she called this place her home. She knew too well how bad things and bad people happened, so she wasn't naive, but she also saw the good in others and hated judging a whole based on a couple bad pieces. She had been like that since a kid, even before her late Master had taken her under her wing and made a Jedi out of her.

"Hey!" She chuckled as he stole a sip from her glass. She gave him a look, still grinning. She also liked that he wasn't the kind to pressure her with tons of questions. They both had their lives, that sometimes intertwined, and that was it. The weird relation they had had since they were much younger had more to do with their personalities and chemistry than with precised updates about their day-to-day activities.

"Glad you were around when I visited. And dull? Really?" She quirked a brow, having a hard time imagining him finding life so dull, especially with how often he got himself into trouble.

[Dorian Argenus]

Dorian relinquished her glass directly back to the ring of condensation on the table before her, noting that combining his narco-cigarras with the similar effect of the Reactor Core drink would probably make for an unproductive night. While that normally might have appealed to him, he had business to attend to this evening and given the serious nature of it, he needed to be on his A-game. The weight of the DC-17 blaster pistol, tucked from view beneath his double-layer of shirts, had a grounding effect on him. He ducked his head, passing a furtive glance over the cracked but still functional chrono attached to his wrist. Shit, he was going to be late if he didn't get a move on it.

"Well, Red, I hate to bail out early but I've got an appointment. If you need some place to stay, you know where I hid the spare." He offered her, sliding out of the booth and rising. "If not, you know I'll be around."

A few minutes later, after settling up with Orik, Dorian was on his way out. The meeting he had arranged wasn't going to be a pleasant one but stars willing, he would be the one smashing faces rather than being the recipient of such treatment. He moved along the transit hub corridor and hid the shaking of his hands by shoving them in his pockets. When his fingertips brushed the packet of cigarras, the seductive voice of addiction increased its volume in the back of his head. A moment later, he had a cigarra lit and jammed between his scarred, split lips.

It took two lifts to reach his destination; an unlit residential slum by the name of Shadow Town. Once a holding zone for Imperial rejects, the place was now brimming with the lowest of the low. Law enforcement types rarely came down here because of the overwhelming crime rate, there were no security cameras to speak of, and there were plenty of dark alleys to conduct illegal exchanges; making it the perfect place for Dorian to meet with a money grubbing medical examiner.

The corpulent man stuck out like a sore thumb; his clothes a bit too fine for his surroundings, his well-fed form quivering with fear as his eyes and mind tried to process the entirety of this hellhole. Dorian fought back a smirk and approached him, flicking some ashes off to the side as he came to stand before the man.

"It's about time you showed up. Keeping me waiting in a place like this, this better be worth my time." The man growled at him, flecks of spittle flying from his meaty lips.

"What? You don't like the amenities that Shadow Town has to offer? Nah, you're too upscale for that, doc. Thing is, I've been hearing some pretty interesting stuff about your side business. Here I thought you were just supposed to state the facts on medical records. As it turns out, you're getting paid to enter in whatever the highest bidder wants you to." Dorian said, his lean-muscular frame coming to block off the medical examiner's escape route.

"Yeah, what of it? They're people from your neck of woods, dead ones, so who gives a frak?"

Dorian's hand shot out, grabbing the man by his collar and thrusting him back against the wall of the alley. "Well, normally I wouldn't. But, you see, it seems someone is tracking down my foster parents, killing them, and you're covering it up. So, here is the deal. I want the unaltered medical records and you get to keep doing what you're doing."

"And if I tell you to frak off?" The man dared.

Dorian smiled down at him, releasing his collar and watching as the medical examiner straightened his shirt. The man had the nerve to look smug, as if catching the one flaw in his plan. That was when he reached under his shirt and produced the DC-17, whistling softly before replying. "I don't think that'd be a good idea on your part, doc."

[Satkia Beltrak]

"Will do," Satkia replied with a grin when Dorian bailed out. She was definitely going to crash at his place, but not right away. She watched him leave, not just enjoying the view, but also keeping a grip on his aura. It could be challenging with non Force users but when she was familiar enough with them, it was still second nature. And she had a bad feeling about his meeting.

It wouldn't hurt to follow him and it exactly was what she was going to do. It was one of the good things about Nar Shaddaa: the whole place was so cosmopolitan that most, including herself, could blend into the colorful population.

She waited five minutes before leaving the bar. She knew the area and it was easy for her to follow at a distance, so he wouldn't think somebody was after him. Dorian knew what he was doing and she didn't want him to feel double crossed or baby sat. They both were too independent for this kind of things, even when people meant well.

She followed down to Shadow Town, turning to the shadows akin to the slum name, so she would disappear even more into the surroundings. She went to some short building roofs and continued her progress from above. She crouched and observed the exchange between Dorian and the fat man. She didn't know how he had survived that long down there.

When she saw Dorian grabbed him, her attention was caught by silhouettes coming closer, though still far away from the exchange. She dropped to the ground like a wild cat the split second they headed to Dorian from behind. She coaxed their weapons out of their hands with her will and then sped up to grab them both by the collars. They tried to wiggled their way out but the Jedi Master would have none of it.

"Next time you want to double cross someone, hire professionals," she said as she joined Dorian and the other man, still not letting go of the two idiots.

[Dorian Argenus]

An icy stare slithered its way from its fixed position on the medical examiner to Satkia, all of the casual humor usually found in his gaze drained away and replaced with uncompromising purpose. Briefly, he assessed the two thugs that the medical examiner had probably hired to step in if things went south. So, he wasn't a complete fool...

Dorian's hand, the one not currently holding a blaster, darted out and seized the man by the double stitched shoulder of his shirt. He dragged him forward and with a prompt kick to the back of man's knees, dropped him to the pavement and pressed the cold muzzle of his weapon to the back of his head. "I want names, doc. See Red here? I've seen her make grown men cry hysterically, I've seen her make them beg. Me? I prefer quiet. Silence." The blaster whirred as he dialed up the power to full with a flick of his thumb, assuring that one blast would bring an end to him.

"H-he'll kill me!" The medical examiner croaked, his head bowing away from the persistent push of his weapon.

"Why do they always say that?" He asked to no one in particular but decidedly fastened his gaze on Red. "Like I'm not holding a FRAKKING BLASTER to your head!" He punctuated this with a rough smack to the back of his head with the butt of his weapon, drawing a short yelp from the man. Not so smug now, was he? "Running out of time, doc. You got till the count of three... one-"

"You don't know him like I do-"

"Two..."

"Please, please! I can't!"

"Your funeral. Thr-"

"Landis Orthro! He's the one who gave me the credits!"

There was a moment of silence as Dorian processed the name, finding that it didn't ring familiar.

"He's an Imperial Lieutenant, he's working for someone else. That is all I know, I swear!"

More silence. He had outlived his usefulness and now, all Dorian could think was that he didn't want this snake to continue raking in blood money. Ever so slowly, his finger curled around the trigger and he began to apply just the slightest bit of pressure.

[Satkia Beltrak]

One thing they had shared from so many years ago was their fierceness. They might have only seen each other on and off sometimes for a few years, but there was still something binding them regardless. Satkia had never really thought about the exact nature of this uncanny tie but she knew it ran deep and she knew Dorian damn well, and it wasn't even because of the edge she might have into people' hearts because of her Force-filled observations.

She made sure that the two idiots she had grabbed wouldn't make a move. The Force vibrated through her body, rippling over her skin, enveloping her and giving her insight into all actors in the unfolding situation. She didn't bat an eyelash when Dorian worked on roughly obtaining information from the man who had tried to double cross him. She knew he needed them and she also assessed the level of threat.

When the man finally spilled the beans, she knew that Dorian had what to work with. It was when she knew he was about to kill that she chose to intervene. There was a line she refused to cross right there and then, even if Dorian would be angry at her. She reached out through the Force in a split second, causing the shot that came out to harm the man into the shoulder instead of ending his life.

The moment it happened, she tossed the two scumbags to the ground.

"Get the hell away. All of you," she snapped. While she had chosen to protect criminal lives, she hoped for them they wouldn't be stupid enough to try their luck against Dorian and her as she wouldn't go down.

[Dorian Argenus]

He had even realized he had been holding his breath until it came spilling out of him in a ragged gasp. At the last moment, some unseen force had either pulled at the blaster or the man the bolt was meant for, displacing his shot into the medical examiner's shoulder. His mark toppled forward, howling in pain and clutching the seared exit wound. The loud grinding of his teeth was inaudible over the fierce thump of his heart, his hellish stare turning upon the woman who had clearly caused the offset of his aim.

"What the frak, Red?" He asked, this softly but firmly spoken question having all the intensity of something screamed. Were it anyone else, they would have found themselves pinned under the barrel of his blaster themselves. But not Satkia, no. All she had to do was pull his strings and he'd fall all over himself to accommodate her wishes. His fist clenched at his side and he took a step forward, crushing the heel of his boot into the hand of one of the thugs slowly inching his fingers within grasp of his own blaster.

"These people are exactly what is wrong with the galaxy. You think that this little scare will be enough to stop them from committing the same crimes again? They have to be stopped. Let me do this." He asked this time, settling the weapon in an uncompromising stage that would put a bolt right through one of the thug's skull. "If I don't, they will just take what has happened here tonight to whoever they're working for. More lives could be lost. They don't play by the same blasted honor code as you, don't you get it?"

[Satkia Beltrak]

Satkia stared at Dorian, her expression unchanging. Her voice was calm but stern as she waited for Dorian to be done before speaking up. "Do you remember Boran?" Boran had been one of his infochants for a good while. He had come with her recommendation, at least that was how she had decided to have the former scumbag play the story if he wanted to stay out of further trouble.

"If I had shot him dead as I wanted to do for a long time, he wouldn't have frelling died saving two of your guys."

She groaned, not having expected to walk down that memory lane. After all, she had put that assault and trauma behind, and she had never told Dorian about these ugly times from so long ago. She remembered everything so vividly, including being ready to shoot her attacker a few times, especially the feeling of her blade pressed against his throat. Then, she had decided to do something else. And regardless of what had happened to her, Boran had proved helpful in the last years of his life.

"I don't know the future. Neither do you."

[Dorian Argenus]

Dorian stared at her, his silver gaze awash with tumultuous emotions akin to rage, ardor, and suffering all rolled into one. She always dared. Words that would be careless and fatal on the tongue of any other bastard in this whole galaxy, aimed with such adept precision at imprisoned memories, a past even he refused to provoke. His teeth bared in a snarl at the sheer acrimonious truths she delivered and the blaster trembled in his hand as doubt echoed across his resolve.

A booted foot lashed out and sent the grounded firearm belonging to one of the thugs skittering past Satkia and well away from anyone's grasp. His other foot let up from the thug's hand, who immediately shrank back in an attempt to put some distance between them. Dorian approached her slowly, the angle of his weapon dropping to his side quite harmlessly. He stopped mere inches away, his brows knit forward in thought.

"You always were bad for business, Red." He said quietly, his free hand darting forward to capture her waist. Behind, the thugs and medical examiner were cautiously climbing to their feet but the minuscule sounds they made were crushed beneath the gravity of the situation. He pulled her in and bent his torso forward, slashing his mouth fiercely down upon her own. She tasted like heaven even though he was mired in the depths of hell, he kissed her like each stroke imbued him with the light and righteousness she was probably praying he could find within himself. The man he could have been... but definitely was not.

An almost militant pivot turned their bodies at once, his mouth dislodging from her's and his head tilting to look over her shoulder. He raised his weapon and popped off three shots rapidly. Three bodies fell; each bolt loosed with the same precision as her damning words, each life snuffed assuredly. He released her and his stare returned, the roaring emotions leeching away into steady acceptance.

"I know they don't deserve one."

[Satkia Beltrak]

Dorian had known her for years, way before she became a Jedi, and ironically he was one of the few she had never hid it from, despite how different their trajectories were. They respected their differences, sometimes they temporarily resolved it against a wall, but even when it seemed two opposites couldn't be more further away, they still stood side by side, often too close for comfort. It wasn't comfort she had ever sought in Dorian, nor why she kept coming back, even when years could pass in between. It was acceptance and loyalty, maybe in a weird and warped way, but she trusted him not to bullshit her, not to ask questions.

She meant it and she knew he agreed when she said she had the loudest mouth. His was felt excruciating when it met hers after the horrendous confession she had just made, one she had hoped wouldn't have to happen. She had no love or even appreciation for the thugs he may still kill; but she had pointed another option out. After all, she'd lie if she said she had felt bad when her rapist had died a few years later, doing good or not. Hell, she probably even downed a bottle in celebration.

As a Jedi, she swore to be a guardian of peace, but above all, she had sworn to protect the innocents. These assholes weren't innocent. She had grown up on Nar Shaddaa. She knew the planet better than many.

She didn't move an inch as she saw Dorian close the distance between them, her intuition telling her the split second before he pulled her to him, their mouth colliding with the same desperation that had been their trademark for a long time. Her hands snaked to his face, holding it firmly so he wouldn't put any distance between them.

When she suddenly felt him move, she knew. She didn't try to bring any sort of last minute feat to save these scumbags. Nar Shaddaa, the galaxy, it was littered with them.

Her hands went to his shoulders, gripping firmly, and she stayed close to him, unwilling to move away. She had no reason to. She had said her piece, he had made his choice.

"I've never asked you to be like me," she said sternly, her heart still dancing at the edge of the abyss they had tread together for years.

She may be a Jedi standing among trash and corpses on her home world; but nothing prevented her from pulling Dorian by the collar to eagerly claim his mouth.

[Dorian Argenus]

The blaster pistol dangled from his index finger lifelessly before he holstered it as an afterthought.

He stood there, stare transfixed upon her own. His silver gaze seemed to taunt her in that instance; Go ahead, judge me. Tell me you've given up. Tell me I'm no better. Leave me, just like everyone else does. It was the only way anyone would ever experience that kind of vulnerability from him; he had been beaten down by misfortune so many times in the past that now he merely stood at the brink of it, ready to take whatever sentence she passed.

I've never asked you to be like me...

And then she pulled him in. For maybe a second, he merely stood there in shock. Every possibility, every awful thing had been imagined and was discarded like the refuse littering the ground around him. A low growl rumbled behind his lips, all desperation and possession, and his arms closed in around her form like iron bars threatening to never let go. He crushed her to his chest and kissed her with fury and passion; the fine line those two forces walked blurring with whatever sorcery she cast on him. His hands moved, pressing as they went; walking up her spine and urging her even closer. The fingers from one hand closed around the back of her neck, partially tangling within her hair, and his teeth taunted her bottom lip in a bite that both asked permission and tempted her to let him in.

[Satkia Beltrak]

She had never realized how used she was used to drift and live under the radar until she had set foot on Ossus. She was glad for the Order she stood for, they could live in the open again, but it wasn't for her. She couldn't give up on her past, whether as a Nar Shaddaa spitfire or a wandering Jedi. She believed that there was risk about putting most survivors into a single place as well. Her home world had taught her that you didn't put all your goods in the same vault. It wasn't simple fear; it was survival. She had felt relieved when she had realized, along with her unorthodox bunch that their place was still across the galaxy.

It wasn't vacation that had brought Satkia back to Nar Shaddaa, and she had no shame in admitting she had sought Dorian out again. She had always come back, even when training with her Master, who thankfully had never tried to tame her. It was probably why she had been able to grow as a Jedi, regardless of how enigmatic she could be to some. As for Dorian, they had fallen back into the pattern of coming and going for more years than she could count. Losing the woman who had been like a true mother to her in the past years, as well as coming to terms that no matter the political situation, she was a drifter, had led her all the way back to where it started: Nar Shaddaa and Dorian Argenus.

She felt his shock, not so much at her kiss, but at what she had just told him. If she had wanted him to be like her, she would have stopped returning to him like a bloody - and sometimes bloodied - magnet. Their paths were different; but they spoke the same language, they resonated with each other in all that hurt and all that made them feel alive.

She groaned into his fierce kiss, as his steel grip entrapped her. It took her naturally tapping into the Force to extricate her arms from how crushed they were against his chest, so she could lace them around his neck, every inch of her body colliding with his in. The eye of the storm was where she belonged, and the man crushing her to him was its perfect embodiment.

Feeling the taunt of his teeth, she parted her lips further, as she pressed her hips harder against his, wanting him to carry on with what he had started. She vaguely registered how the various weapons they had on their person got in the way; but she didn't care.

[Dorian Argenus]

As soon as her lips parted, his tongue delved in and stroked her own with sensual slowness. The tang of blood from his split lip melded with her sweet as sin taste, he just couldn't help but groan again. With her arms wended around his neck, he had little worry of their bodies parting. His hands began to wander once more; one squeezing her shoulder as he took the deepness of their kiss even further, the other lightly trailing down the center of her spine. Finally, they agreed on their positioning once more with both cupping along the generous curves of her ass. His nails bit in slightly as he hauled her up onto his hips, never once breaking the seal of their lips; then, he was turning and striding them both toward the lift access that had taken him down into Shadow Town, evidence be damned.

He slammed her back up against the lift doors, supporting her bottom against the brace of his forearm while he impatiently slapped the call button. By the incessant beeping that resulted, they had a few moments. At this angle, though, he had a great many more things at his mercy. He ended their kiss with another nip and flexed his arms to grind her higher on the door. Slowly, he tilted his head back and he fastened his stormy gaze upon her's, holding her stare as he leaned forward. His tongue lapped her jugular notch and his incisors dragged along her exposed collar bone, his breath fanning against the mild trail of wetness left behind by his mouth. Kisses trailed lower and lower, his teeth fastening on one of the buttons to her double buttoned top....

The lift chimed its arrival and he pulled her down, sweeping them inside. Pleasantly, their activities continued to remain private. He walked backward and leaned against the rearward wall of the lift, letting gravity drag her curvature along every eager, aching place he possessed. His breath hissed between his teeth and he bit the corner of his mouth at the sensation, tilting his head back to look up at her once more.

[Satkia Beltrak]

Shadow Town wasn't where a proper woman was supposed to get intimate with her partner of choice. Engaging in such debauchery wasn't taught by the Jedi Order for sure. But nobody could stop Satkia. There was a force of habit that kept pulling Dorian and her back together; but it was the most enticing sort. There was a rawness about the man kissing her that resonated more deeper than the redhead would admit to most people, although her behavior and opinions often betrayed it to a degree. Right then and there though, all she could think of was their bodies pressing against each other, adjusting in between the odd weaponry and their more or less adroit stepping across the streets. And frankly, thinking was secondary when he kept her entranced.

She growled in their kiss as he pulled her up, her legs naturally wrapping tightly around him. She had missed his hands holding her. They felt so right as he had her pinned against the lift door. She may be able to zone in completely on him; but the way she felt everything too much, the Force enhancing everything, was intoxicating more than any hard liquor could ever achieve. Impatient fire coursed through her vein, her skin aching to feel more of his. As she felt his mouth leave hers, she kept her grip on his shoulders, slightly shifting to give him greater access. Her fingers curled against the fabric of his shirts, having little self control not to rip them off on the spot.

He coaxed a long and expectant moan out of her when his teeth reached one of her clothing's buttons, and then the flesh just underneath.

Satkia briefly thought that the moment it would require for them to get inside the elevator might bring her some clarity of mind. As Dorian slammed her into him against the back wall, the only certainty she had acquired was that she needed her appetites sated right then.

As their eyes met, she kissed the side of his face before nipping at his earlobe.

"Take me," she whispered in a commanding tone.

Her hand snaked between their bodies. Satkia's hips reluctantly parted long enough for her fingers to deftly reach for his belt, unfazed by the studs biting at her skin, as she unbuckled it.

[Dorian Argenus]

It was quite some time later, many sessions later, in the ramshackle depths of his single-bedroom apartment that Dorian finally emerged from the haze of lust that had overtaken him. Somehow, he still had just one sock on and he stared down bemusedly at it between the cracks of his fingers. Reaching down, he removed the mismatched article of clothing and took up his boxers instead, sliding them over the angular jut of his hips before rising from his disheveled mattress. He snagged a pack of smokes from the nightstand, which had been knocked sideways, and tapped it against his palm to pop one of the stems forth.

Slowly, he sauntered to the opened window and lit the cigarette with a deft flick and flash from his lighter. The small cartridge was discarded upon the table and then a mostly empty bottle of whiskey supplied him a meager serving into his tumbler from earlier. Smoke between his lips, whiskey clutched in his bruised fingers, he turned the scarred length of his back away from Satkia and took in her supine form. Worry furrowed his brow, concern over the changes this might have wrought or hadn't. Certainly, things would be different now.... She didn't have regrets, did she?

Dorian concealed his trepidation behind a smug smirk that he aimed her way when her eyes found his; the expression somehow missing its normal forthright edge. He didn't know what to say or if saying anything was necessary. Somehow, his arrogant quips did not seem appropriate in the moment. Instead, he chose to admire her from his vantage across the room, fingers flexing to swirl the untouched liquor in his glass.

[Satkia Beltrak]

The following hours were a blur of raw sensations and blinding pleasures, rooted into all the hurt and pent up hunger Dorian and Satkia always worked up for each other. And the point of no return they had yielded too back in the trenches of trashiest Nar Shaddaa had only heightened the needs.

They were people of their word; but they were above all anchored in their actions, and nothing could speak deeper than the immediacy and naked truth of surrendering in each other's fiercest embrace.

Sated and at peace, Satkia rolled over, stealing Dorian's pillow out of habit as he left the bed. Through half-open eyelids, she took his silhouette in as he put his boxers back on and went to smoke at the window. Her home world might be a shit hole; but it had him. And she'd trade any paradise for his company.

She didn't regret the step they had finally taken. It had been years in the making; but they were both stubborn beyond measure.

She felt his eyes upon him. She would never pry into his mind; but sometimes his emotions were so fierce she felt their ripples.

She sat up, offering him an eyeful, but really modesty was misplaced between them. She got to her feet and fetched his shirt, putting it on, its collar hanging over her bare shoulder as she walked towards him.

She could tell him she had no regret and that she loved him; because it was the truth, but instead she wrapped her arms around him, her ginger hair cascading over his chest as she nipped at his shoulder in a possessive way, before trailing up to his neck.

He was hers just as she was his.

Nothing would ever change that.

[Dorian Argenus]

Dorian continued to watch her; he was entranced by her motions as she slowly sat up, disengaged from the bed, grabbed his shirt, and made her way to his side. Each step that brought her closer enhanced a cadence of peacefulness in his tormented soul. Finally, when she was at his side and setting her playful teeth to his skin, his smile was genuine and the grasp he asserted upon her waist expressed comfort at her nearness. His eyes, however, impressed upon her possessiveness. You're mine now, Red. They seemed to say, his teeth gleaming in the dim lighting that washed warmly over them.


He turned his head briefly to exhale the smoke he'd taken in, his eyes leaving her form only briefly to take in the dour cityscape that spread out before the meager balcony attached to his apartment. This place was purgatory and she was quite possibly the angel come to rest him from his never ending, melancholy repose. He couldn't be sure but he was beginning to feel as though the shackles holding him here had dissolved.

"This time when you leave, I'd like to go with you." He said resolutely, returning his silvery gaze to her.

[Satkia Beltrak]

Life had made sure that they would get beaten with repeated cruelty; but they had always made it through. They had extensive resilience on their own; but together they had something more, something that only the bond weaved over the years and despite their foolishness, could provide. It was both comfort and strength, a freedom rarely permitted for those who had grown up on Nar Shaddaa, and witnessed the horrors that could happen in the galaxy.

He would likely believe he was the darkness to her light; but she also knew he was the light to her own darkness. While her allegiance to the Light Side had never weathered, she was far from perfect, and she knew that the world was way more complex than a simple black and white landscape. It wasn't neatly organized. There were layers and contradictions in most people, including herself.

She smiled as he grasped her waist and found solace in his genuine smile, a rare occurrence she had got to see a few times. It was a sight she could get used to, now that she was honest with herself.

What her partner said next caught her by surprise. Her expression was a testimony to it; but she took his words seriously, as she left a brief kiss over his bare shoulder, still holding his gaze.

"I'd like that."

She paused, thinking about possibilities.

"Is there somewhere specific you'd like to go to?"

She knew Dorian well enough to know he could either wing it or have some sort of plan forming already.