#one shot: swtor

[bardic-tales]

Alone in the Dark

Novel: Fall of Darth Jadus

Pairing: m!SI (Darth Jadus / Darth Notkis) x f!IA (Cipher Nine / Cynthia Prescost)

Fandom: Star Wars, The Old Republic

Word Count: 606

Warnings: implied child abuse, implied rape, au:canon divergent

Rating: Mature

Premise: Cynthia Prescost, an Imperial Agent who goes by the moniker Cipher Nine, confronts her lover, Darth Jadus. A secret is spilled out.

Source: Angst Prompt Generator

Tag List: @arrthurpendragon @perasperaadastrawriting @starryeyes2000

If you would like to to be on my tag list for notifications on my fan fiction, please let me know. If you wish to be taken off this taglist, feel free to tell me!

ALONE IN THE DARK

1.

“I was alone!” she howled at the Sith before her. “When I truly needed you, you disappeared! So, you don’t know what I have been through! You. Don’t. Know!”

“Cynthia, I know — ”

“You don’t know! How could you know what happened to me?!” She cut Darth Jadus off as she dug her fingernails into her palm. This trick worked to distract her when her parents locked her in her childhood bedroom when she was younger. Presently, it did nothing.

As he bent down, Jadus set a holopad on the table next to them. She was too irate to see that he was carefully examining holo-news or read the breaking headlines about an attack on the distant planet of Bespin. Authorities said none survived.

She trembled, the shaking barely discernible to the naked eye, but Jadus knew all her idiosyncrasies. He immediately knew something was wrong. Her heart hammered in her chest.

“I knew they would hurt me,” she cried out, sobbing as those memories took hold of her as they often did now, “but I never thought that they would do that. How could anyone predict they would do that?”

“No one could,” Jadus murmured, his voice no higher than a melodic purr. He wiped one of her tears away with his hand, the moisture leaving a spot behind on the ebony-colored clawed glove. “You have experienced one of the worst things that a person could endure. You don’t need my permission to mourn.

“And you need not fear a punishment for this outburst either, Cyn. You’re not the reason that happened, but you need to do whatever you can to heal from it. Even if that means you must leave me and be by yourself for a bit. I have no use for someone who’s broken.”

Although his words were harsh, there was a gentleness to them. Cynthia couldn’t fault his reasoning. In her current state, they were no closer to realizing his glorious empire than they were after fate reunited them.

I can’t even look at him without remembering what happened. This was not Jadus’ fault. If she were honest with herself, every man reminded her of those who captured her, those who took torture too far. He was only a stand in for the ones who took part in her abuse.

She breathed in and out. Her breaths fell rapidly on each other, and each stopped with a choked sob. As time passed, her anxiety rose until it reached its tipping point.

I can’t breathe, Cynthia panicked. Again, her air was cut off with a choked sob.

“Be at ease,” he tried to soothe her as he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. No amount of comfort would make it okay. “All who participated in such a plan will perish by my hand. I give you my word that they will not escape me.”

Although Imperial Intelligence was no more and Sith Intelligence rose to take its place, Jadus would hunt down all who were responsible for what happened over the skies of Corellia.

The Sith always reveled in the hunt. This time would be no different, and all of those she considered her friends were in danger from his never-ending rage.

I can’t allow him to figure out who was responsible. Shara was the one in most danger should he look into the plan that they all agreed to. He would murder the former Watcher Two and Keeper, but most importantly to Cynthia, one of her few friends.

[dingoat]

The Sun

Upright: joy, success, celebration, positivity

[vespertine-legacy]

turns out there is a secret tunnel beside the entrance to Alchemy of Evil, and from there, you can get into the Ilum skybox real nice

[kemendin]

The edge of the galaxy

[queen-scribbles]

Okay, I was weak, I ran the Jorgan date with Tjera, too, for different dialogue testing and regret nothing

OUR ship

OUR. SHIP.

Not her ship. OUR ship.

ahem. moving on (:D) I did the [take it easy] option with her since Keme's too competitive /cough

SIR. That is UNFAIR.

If you go for kissing him on his turn it's a little kiss on the cheek (in revenge for that Smoulder™), he does indeed miss his shot

and you get a bonus smooch out of it. :D That's properly aligned and everything (rip nose kisses, you shall be missed)

Definitely my new favorite date, 20/10, will be running again and again and agai-

[geekwithacuriousmind]

Servant Two Begins to Question

Surprise @diazuk-legacy ! I was your Secret Santa! I hope you like this one-shot and don’t think I took too many creative liberties with describing Servant Two.

Servant Two never had much of a choice regarding the course of his life. From the moment he was able to serve, he served. Freedom was a forbidden word, discouraged from all of the Emperor’s Hands. In return, the Emperor gave them power—the privilege to be His voice among all His subjects. Their words, in turn, became the Emperor’s word. And in the Empire, that meant power.

Yet the Servants were not foolish to think that power was enough to intimidate everyone in the Empire.

There were some Sith who believed they could do better than the Servants. They thought, in their naivety, that the Emperor’s inner circle worked similarly to their silly power struggles.

They all learned their lesson when the Servants were done with them.

Yet there was one exception: one person, a Sith whom the Emperor forbade to dispose of.

As Servant Two kept a close eye on the Emperor’s chosen, the Emperor’s Wrath, he failed to see what was so special about this Sith.

Why was it that his Emperor chose this Sith above everyone else?

Servant Two knew that even thinking this went against his vow. Their duty was to follow orders. The word of the Emperor was law. His wisdom was beyond the realm of understanding. As much as Servant Two wanted to understand, he knew he would never be able to grasp fully what his Emperor deemed or didn’t deem worthy.

Yet why did his heart ache every time he met with the Emperor’s Wrath? Why did he feel disheartened each time he tried to speak to the Emperor and was met with silence instead? His gaze, which fell on him so long ago— felt so out of range, as if his God was no longer in this realm.

Yet that couldn’t be, could it? He wouldn’t abandon them.

Right?

Servant Two was terrified of the answer. Because just even questioning his Emperor’s presence meant he doubted His power.

Yet it was too late for him. This existence was the only thing he had ever known. It was the only way he could think of surviving.

But could devotion, adoration, and loyalty be enough to hide the truth?

They were still following the orders of a God that was no longer there.

“We live to serve Him,” Servant One told him as if that was enough to eliminate all his fears and doubts. “We must keep his voice alive.”

What is there left to keep alive? he thought.

But rather than saying this, he kept following orders. He kept whispering in the Servants’ minds empty promises and broken vows.

He watched from the shadows as the Emperor’s Wrath stopped following the Emperor’s voice. They knew his ambition would be unstoppable. That his lust for power was unlike any other Servant Two had ever seen.

Yet they believed they could control him. Use him just like they did in the past to eliminate Darth Baras.

They had been wrong. Servant One returned with bruises and a wounded ego after almost being choked to death. With their spy robots destroyed and the Dark Council’s betrayal imminent— it was only now that they realized how weak the Emperor’s Hand had become due to His silence.

They were hunted down and destroyed by those who first sought them to further their selfish agendas. By those who were now in positions of power thanks to their influence and intervention.

Yet there wasn’t much they could do. Not with the Emperor gone. After all, their power came from Him. And without Him, they were nothing.

And would die like nothing, one by one.

It was their duty, after all.

[justiceforc3po]

Vada Z'Elion, former CO of Havoc Squad, Commander of the Eternal Alliance

„People are counting on me - people who can't fight for themselves.

If I fail, they suffer the consequences. So, I can't fail.“

[dirthara-dalen]

At long last, Malgus. He could have cared less why the former sith lord was there just that he needed to be stopped.

It felt too easy to capture the sith. For the first time something felt off about the whole situation. The man was far to confident for his taste. Claiming that his plans have already been set into motion and could not be stopped...that worried him even if he did not show it.

[voidendron]

...It would appear I have more NPC clones than I thought I did.

oops.

the Exarchs are MINE, bioware, mine I say

[eorzeashan]

Eight: stars you are extremely fucking selfish. die

Colonel Korrd: I am 32 years old

Korrd was quaking in his boots here which was incredibly satisfying given that it looked like he was seconds from shitting his pants, but to rub it in further, Eight chose to blackmail him. Not in the 'give me all your stuff' way, but the subtle veiled threat that said I will collect. I'm really mad I didn't get any screenshots of that moment because Eight's look was outright murder.

Honestly Eight was so intimidating here that I thought Korrd was about to cry when he said he understood, lol. Like his voice was so trembly and lightheaded, kudos to the VA who got across his sheer terror underneath his Imperial restraint.

It's no secret that Eight hates wastefulness, but my god does he really love putting the screws to people and making them sleep with one eye open.

^ Eight when Korrd asks if he did it out of the goodness of his heart

[nekorinnie]

"This Wasn't Supposed To Happen"

He peaked around the dark corner over the border of a ceiling rafter, as the group on the ground moved around, carrying boxes and containers of worrying things.

He carefully snuck after his target on said rafters, making sure not to make any noise or sudden movement that would harm this impromptu operation.

This is a bad idea., a Very Bad idea to follow someone planning on blowing up entire cities. He is still only a cadet... but there wasn't much time to report this, and he can't let the explosions happen.

______

He had a plan, a risky, hastily put together plan, but it should work.... and he quietly activates, and hides another detonator in another box of explosives

_______

A series of explosions shake the warehouse as he dodges turned stumbles away from the bolts shot at him. He dodges another shot, and dives for cover, hands over head as another series shake the warehouse, closer to the area they where in. Once the shakes stop, and shooting resumes, he grabs the blaster he acquired, and shoots back.

___

He runs forward, barely keeping his footing on the loose stone in the forest, a destroyed warehouse still exploding behind him.

Some kind of wire suddenly wraps around his neck, one, two, three... on and on it feels like before slapping onto his cheek hard, and suddenly he is yanked back, and falling backwards, yet before he can collide with the ground, a hand grabs onto his hair and slams his cheek into sharp stone.

He can't do anything about it, when suddenly he is free from the hand, the wire around his neck loosened. He sinks onto his knees, breathing hard, his shaking hands reaching up and trying to pry said wire off. Vision darkening as he hears an odd hum, seeing only a red blade as he looses consciousness.

______

After being treated, and debreifed, he sits on his cot looking at his shaking bandaged hands silver eyes wide as he fights back the panic, and fails. Curling into himself, as he struggles to breathe through the unwanted tears and sobs, he finally manages to calm enough to breathe right and be ready to fall asleep.

He brings a hand up as he lays down curled, gently touching the bandages on his neck and cheek.

[bardic-tales]

Searching (SI x IA)

Novel: Fall of Darth Jadus

Pairing: m!SI (Darth Jadus / Darth Noktis) x f!IA (Cipher Nine / Cynthia Prescost)

Fandom: Star Wars, The Old Republic

Word count: 881

Warning: Slavery. Implied Rape. Implied Torture. Minors DNI

Premise: Cynthia Prescost must come to terms with the tragedy in her life, but she finds it may be easier if she were to just disappear.

Tag List: @arrthurpendragon @perasperaadastrawriting @starryeyes2000

If you would like to to be on my tag list for notifications on my fan fiction, please let me know. If you wish to be taken off this taglist, feel free to tell me!

1.

“If I ran away, would anyone search for me?” Cynthia Prescost said as she looked up into her companion’s eerie gaze. As if he had just drank sour milk, the Sith Lord frowned.

It’s the truth. How many times had she just wanted to get away? She almost lost her will to live when she learned that any memories that she had of Leon were planted within her.

Her companion had once compared what happened to her as being raped, as she had her memories forcibly taken from her and replaced with a version that was not true.

He was right. What happened to Cynthia was a violation. Everyone she knew brutalized her, and then she had any remembrance erased. It wasn’t the first these people ripped happiness from her life. Whether it was her unborn child or time spent with a loved one, nothing was sacred to those who held her leash.

It doesn’t matter to me if Leon is not real, Cynthia thought,as it hurts either way. Knowing Leon’s memory was superimposed over an Iridonian Sith Lord’s couldn’t change the feelings that she had or the warmth and passionate heat that she remembered. Leon was the man she loved, not the Sith Lord whom the Dark Council and Imperial Intelligence tried to replace.

When it was revealed that her memories of Leon were false, it felt as if Imperial Intelligence and the Sith pulled a rug from beneath her feet. She couldn’t accept that every memory she had was truly about the one who oversaw Imperial Intelligence and her career, the mysterious Darth Jadus. Did he know what was going to happen? Was that why he sent her away when Harkun contacted him to discuss how Jadus’ son was advancing in the Sith Academy?

No. Cynthia could see no reason for a deception such as that, except a niggling doubt planted itself inside her mind. He took over and molded Imperial Intelligence into his vision. Was it all for his ambitions?

“It matters little in the grand scheme of things, Cyn.” He grasped a crystal wine glass by its stem, lifted it to his mouth, and drank before he spoke next. “You cannot flee from your destiny. Your fate is to be by my side.”

Is that even my fate? Certainly, she wanted to flee after the events occurring with Hunter and his men. It would have been easy to just disappear into the Galaxy, but this Darth — the one who called her his Tai’Shan, his mate, and his Hand — would not allow such a decision.

Darth Jadus, or as Darth Noktis as he went by presently, was instrumental in her healing. He never pressed her for physical affection after her time on Corellia. She would recoil from any touching her.

After she told him what had happened, he comforted her by revealing that he knew how she felt. While she shied away from any affection, he threw himself into his trauma and hoped to bury what happened between his ex-wife and him on Iridonia. His pain fueled his drive, seeing him through the trials on Korriban.

I’m not as strong as he is. It would be easier for Cynthia if she just walked away from the life she knew.

It, however, would not be as easy as up and leaving. As an agent, Imperial Intelligence would send out an official statement to other agencies, stating that she, as an asset, would be unreliable and must be disavowed.  

It had happened to her before. Once Hunter had revealed her identity, Imperial Intelligence declared her a liability. They paired her with a Sith who was not Darth Jadus.

Unbeknown to her, Imperial Intelligence and the Dark Council had ordered a hit out on her, sending a group of assassins unaffiliated with the Empire to do their dirty work. It would seem that sending their own to kill a co-worker would lower morale.

What happened to the rogue force-users? It was a question that had plagued Cynthia since. They were to strike after the Cipher Agent dealt with Hunter, erasing her from every known agency as they had done before. She was sure that those force-sensitives planned a horrific death for her.

It couldn’t have been a coincidence that Darth Jadus disappeared around the time the monastery burnt to the ground and all that dwelt within perished.

In the end, that was all it amounted to. The priests and assassins had obviously made many enemies, among Imperials and Sith, alike.

It turned out that being the Hand of Jadus amounted to nothing, as he disappeared when she needed him the most. How could she relay on such a person? She couldn’t. No one wanted her. Not even this man who professed to love her. This was her truth, the one constant in Cynthia’s life that remained the same.

“What if my destiny is to be forgotten?” Her gaze flitted around the room. She found it impossible to look at him.

“Then,” he said, “my destiny would be to find you once again. I would scour the entire galaxy if need be. I would sacrifice lives and shake the very foundations of the Empire to reveal your location.

“I have done so before. I would do it again.”

[soulcluster-moved]

I just love them your honor

[vespertine-legacy]

[kemendin]

Kinda late to be posting but I couldn't wait, I love these shots of my new boy

[scourgeblooms]

happy may 4th! it's star wars day!!!

(a bit of rambling below the cut)

I didn't know how much I'd love the rattataki when I first started playing swtor a year ago today. I started with one, and ended up with four (so far). these are the only two that've been drawn.

my smuggler captain yrixei (aka "risky") who does all his business in space sweatpants and high on spice.

and my imperial agent who just goes by "nine" and has been shot more times in the last month than years she's been alive (which is a lot).