Private 2300

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael's smirk had still been playing on his lips when she first looked away—still caught in the rhythm of flirtation, the game, the comfort of shared air and half-eaten food.

But the moment stretched. Her reaction wasn't the usual snap-back or teasing one-liner. She looked down. Rearranged. Then again. Then again. Something unspoken was shifting.

He felt it

And like the slow drag of silence after a hyperspace drop, the word he'd said circled back to him.

Love.

Sithspit.

His hand, still holding a chunk of charred meat, stilled mid-air. His eyes narrowed—not in confusion but in sudden self-awareness, like he'd just stepped on a landmine made of feelings.

He hadn't meant to say it. At least… not yet. Maybe not in that exact way. It was a joke. It was light. But it wasn't. Not really.

The way she looked at him now, with that soft, guarded vulnerability and subtle tremble… she'd heard it. Really heard it.

And it had landed.

Kael slowly lowered the food to the plate, his thoughts tumbling in every direction at once. He didn't backpedal—he'd never been one to run from what he felt. But there was a weight now, real and immediate, and it pressed against something inside him that had been carefully boxed and bolted.

He shifted in his seat, watching her with new eyes. The silence between them wasn't awkward. It was alive. Breathing. Full of possibilities. Terrifying ones.

Finally, he let out a slow breath, his tone low and raw.

"I say things sometimes," he began, "without meaning to say them out loud. But that one… that one came out because it was real, I think. Realer than I realized."

He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly restless, like he was trying to buy time while still being honest.

"I didn't plan on falling for someone while trying not to die in hyperspace or tinker with death cult codes. I sure as hell didn't plan on you. But here you are."

His voice softened further, rougher now.

"And maybe it's early. Maybe it's reckless. But if I said I didn't feel something, I'd be lying through my teeth."

He looked at her then, fully—his usual playfulness muted, replaced by something unflinchingly sincere.

"Didn't mean to hit you with a word like that. But it hit me back just as hard." He smirked and then….. “Or maybe I did?”

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Yup. There it was. He said things sometimes, without meaning to. That was all the confirmation Scherezade needed. All her inner turmoil had been for nothing, since he'd just been saying things, so everything was all right, and nothing was awkward. The next million hours to Endor weren't going to be weird at all. She could make a jab, maybe even start a food fight, and then they would do the horizontal dance again and things would return to the way they were until a moment ago.

Except he kept talking. Saying that it was real… He thought? What did that mean? Wait, no, there were more words, her mind was spinning, and she was close to seeing cartoon stars.

"Well I already said I like you more than I should!" she almost yelled at him out of nowhere, breaking the silence that had threatened to begin when he went back to toying with his words. There was no anger in her voice though, just the frustrating that resulted from having her to run her particular swirls of thoughts inside her head.

"And I'm not going to say it back," she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest now.

She couldn't deny that there was a huge part of her that just wanted to melt into him, to wrap the word love around them like a boa, and to go celebrate it so much that a planet exploded. But… Her posture relaxed a little. She had to explain. She needed him to understand.

"I mean, not right now," she fumbled, "I promise, I want to. It's just…"

What was it? Her thoughts went blurry again. She knew what it was. She also knew he'd understand. So why was it so hard to just say it?

"Sometimes, I don't trust my feelings," Scherezade sighed, letting her arms drop as her body leaned against Kael's, shoulder to shoulder, "I don't know how to feel a little bit. I feel a lot. All the time. And sometimes I can drown in it."

But that wasn't all of it, was it?

"I'm scared of making that mistake again," she tried to explain, "so… Before I do, before I say it back, before I welcome the drowning with you… I need a little favor."

She sat up straight again, and turned to face him fully. No running away.

"I need you to meet my sisters," she grinned, "and they're going to absolutely grill you. And if that goes well, I want to drown in you, fully, without any stops."


Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael blinked. Once. Twice. Then a slow, almost disbelieving smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.


The room hadn't changed. The stars beyond the viewport still shimmered like frozen glitter. But his world had just shifted, and all because the woman in front of him had cracked her chest open and let him see the storm inside.


He loved that storm.


And he loved that she was trying to spare him from it—even though she didn't need to. Not with him.


He leaned into her just a bit more, his shoulder pressing back into hers, like he was anchoring her. Or maybe she was anchoring him.


"Scherezade," he said softly, "you could've told me you needed me to duel Mandalorians blindfolded with a broken vibrospoon and I'd still say yes."


She snorted, but didn't interrupt.


"But meet your sisters?" He turned toward her with that familiar gleam in his eye, the one that always came just before he said something he should regret, but never did. "Absolutely. Tell them I'll bring flowers. Or wine. Or both. And maybe a list of my worst sins so they don't have to dig too hard."


His grin widened. "I'm not scared of a grill. I've been cooked before. I just hope they're half as brilliant and terrifying as you."


Then, gentler now, Kael brushed his knuckles against hers.


"I want you to feel safe. Even in the middle of your ocean. I'll tread water with you until you're ready. Until you want to drown."


He paused.


"Besides," he added, "I've got a great float."


That earned him a laugh. And stars, was that the best damn sound in the galaxy.


He reached for her hand this time, not for drama or tension or anything hot and fast. Just simple. Solid. Real.


"Let's meet them!," he said.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Dueling Mandalorians. She almost laughed, realizing that was an opening for another story that would be for another time. But that was the thing now, was it? Scherezade realized that almost everything Kael said to her, most of the time, was something that made her want to laugh in the best possible of ways. The man had only an inkling of the things she'd been through, but he made her feel so close to being a blank slate that could be scribbled on, and he did it without even trying.

And she wasn't sure if him wanting her to feel safe made her happier, or worried. Because if she was frank about it, she knew that she would usually be the one keeping him safe. At least when it came to violence and action. For feelings though… He was obviously the one in charge. And with every passing moment, she felt more certain about the fact that not only did she like that, she was looking forward to it.

So when he finally said let's meet them, that was all she needed for her muscles to release all of their tension, ands he leaned into him, her lips finding his, and the Sithling allowed herself to enjoy it, almost as if it was the first time they kissed. Almost.

"After Endor," she promised when the kiss came to its natural conclusion. They still had a Big Bad to deal with first. "Now… I want to make sure you don't actually detonate something. I may be brilliant, but I can't regrow limbs for others."

With a grin, she rose from the chair and left the kitchen area, only to return after a few seconds with a device in her hand. It looked like a black marble sphere, small enough that one could wrap their fingers around it and have it disappear in their hand. Without pomp, she handed it over to Kael.

"I can guarantee this will work on my ship," Scherezade explained, "can't promise anything outside of it, since I've never tested it. When you're a foot within radius of anything on this ship that might detonate because it's a detonator or a bomb, the marble is gonna start vibrating. It won't if the engine ends up being on fire though."

Because… Yeah, that had happened. Once.

"Keep it in your pocket," she added, then narrowed her eyes playfully. "Not your sock. I know too many men think socks count as pockets and I don't know if you're one of those men, but it really doesn't." Scherezade leaned back, arms folding as she surveyed him like she was checking a loadout, not a man. "Go on then, Chief Explosives Officer. Let's see if you survive a stroll through the cargo hold without making my kitchen into a crater."

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael turned the black marble over in his hand, holding it up to the dim galley light like it might whisper secrets if he squinted just right. It didn't. Just sat there. Smooth. Innocent. Deceptively polite for something designed to warn him he was a step away from kaboom.

He whistled low under his breath. "You know, I've been handed some pretty sketchy things in my life—some that beeped, some that hissed, one that growled—but this?" He tucked it gently into his jacket pocket. "This is the first one that might save my ass from being painted across your hull like abstract art."

He paused, then tilted his head with a roguish grin. "And for the record, I don't use my socks as pockets. I'm not a psychopath. That's what jacket linings are for."

The grin softened as his eyes stayed on hers for a beat longer. She was teasing him, sure, but it was layered now—her trust, her worry, the weight of everything unsaid. He felt it. And he didn't take it lightly.

"I'll make it back with both legs and all my fingers," he said, tapping the spot where he'd stowed the orb. "You can keep the healing mojo on standby just in case, but I promise—if something goes boom, it won't be me."

Then, like it was nothing, he leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss to her forehead—something grounding, something real.

"Endor first. Then us," he echoed quietly. "But I'll be damned if I don't get through this with stories worth scribbling down."

And with that, Kael turned on his heel, gave a casual two-finger salute, and headed for the cargo hold.

A moment later, his voice called back down the hallway:

"Hey! If this thing does start vibrating, do I have time to throw it, scream, or should I just lie down and accept my fate like a professional?"

Then, a beat.

"Wait—don't answer that! I'd rather not know!"

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade watched with giddy excitement as her new Chief Explosions Officer pocketed the marble she'd given him and promised her he'd be back. She knew he would. Her little toys always did their intended job when she gave them to other people. She was the only one who actually got hurt in the process if she didn't directly pay for someone else to get hurt instead.

She purred happily when he kissed her forehead, closing her eyes to deepen just how much she felt it. There had been no lie when she said she felt everything, all the time. And with Kaelon Virex … When she wasn't unraveling inside her own head, she wanted to bathe in the feelings he sent through her every time.

"If it vibrates, you're playing the Hot or Cold game," she yelled back as she shifted her attention to the table, her hands now working to pack things away and putting them back in the icing units, "it's one of those times where you don't want go from Hot to Hotter!"

She didn't need to go babysit him. He knew what he was doing. She hoped.

 

[Kaelon Virex]

From down the corridor, Kael's voice rang out again—half-laugh, half-sarcasm, laced with that familiar reckless charm.

"Hot or Hotter, huh? You really know how to sell a man on his odds, gal!"

A brief pause, then:

"Wait, is there a Hottest setting? Does it come with fireworks or just—ah kriff—okay, I think this box might be humming."

But before he could put her device's accuracy to the test, a blinking light on the nearest wall panel caught his eye. It pulsed twice in amber, then turned deep blue—encrypted channel, not standard. Definitely not scheduled.

Kael's brow furrowed. He crossed the hold with a few long strides and slapped the panel.

"Uh… Scher?!" he called over his shoulder. "You expecting company? Because the Giggledust just lit up like a Zeltron's birthday cake, and I've got some shady signal trying to patch through! It's encrypted—heavily!"

He hesitated a beat.

"Should I answer it, or are we pretending we're not home? 'Cause if it starts whispering 2300 in Sith, I'm yeeting this comm out the fething airlock!"

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She didn't answer him. There was indeed a hottest setting, but if he ever got to it, he'd get to it missing limbs and/or other important parts of his body. Humming a small Hutteese lullaby, she had just closed the final lid of the food that had been spread on the table when Kael called back about someone trying to reach them.

There was no time to freeze and consider. Scherezade knew her ship, and she knew the small number of people who could at present get through to her on its comms. Once again, her fun time with Kael was being interrupted by someone who thought being stupid was a smart thing to be.

Without flare, she marched to the cockpit and sat herself down at the controls.

"Stop calling me Scher," she mumbled, her attention focusing on the console. The shade of blue Kael had mentioned wasn't orphan blue, baby blue, or sky blue. Krak. Posh noble blue. Definitely someone who was not supposed to have a way to get to her. So the term big trouble could correctly be applied to the situation. The thing was though, she didn't know if big trouble meant she and Kael were about to go through something very unpleasant, or the person (or people?) on the other end were.

"Blue flare acknowledged," Scherezade spoke, mic open, "This is Feyre Darling aboard the Shardling. Quack."

With her hand, she signaled for Kael to remain quiet. If she was the target, they didn't know he was there. If he was, they would soon find out. As for the made up names... Sometimes you just had to use them. Feyre Darling was an old nom de plume. The Sharling part, she had just made up. The rest... Would be coming soon.

Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael stood just behind her now, leaning with arms crossed on the side of the cockpit entry. He didn't speak when she signaled—his instinct had already told him this wasn't a call for jokes or questions.
But when he heard Feyre Darling aboard the Shardling. Quack, one dark brow arched. He nearly chuckled. Nearly. Instead, he tapped once against the metal wall and waited, watching her body language and scanning the comm interface like a hawk.
The voice that answered chilled the air between them.

"Scherezade…"
"In the southeast mountain region of Endor… coordinates are 45 degrees by 32."
"There you will be greeted by Number 001."
"Scanner will confirm identity."
"Two days' time."
"2300."

Static followed. Then silence.

Kael's eyes narrowed. He didn't look at Scherezade right away—his gaze stayed locked on the still-lit comm panel, his mind turning. Numbered agents.

Endor. That voice… vocoder-cloaked, but it had something familiar. Not the tone—just the intent. Like someone who always knew they'd get your attention. The kind of voice that came with the weight of long shadows.
Finally, he exhaled slowly through his nose. Quietly.

"…Welp. That didn't sound like a drink invite." He stepped in closer, speaking low.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade almost vanished. Well… not in the literal sense. Her body remained exactly where it was, curled into the pilot's chair, lit only by the soft glow of instrument panels and the glow of her eyes, but the rest of her, the pieces that made her her, seemed to evaporate all at once. She didn't move. Didn't twitch. Didn't even breathe, at least not visibly. The rise and fall of her chest ceased. Her eyes stayed fixed where they'd landed, unblinking, staring past the now-dark comms unit like it had suddenly become a conduit to a deeper horror.

To anyone watching, she might've looked like a wax doll in a museum. A life-sized, glass-eyed replica of a woman who used to exist. Part of the cockpit's decor, not a living thing at all.

Because that voice had used her name. On the comm system, where her name was very clearly ID'd as Feyre Darling. They didn't even mistake it for one of her other aliases, just Scherezade, full and naked, spoken like a hand wrapping around her throat. Someone had reached into a system that, until five seconds ago, she would've sworn on her blood was airtight. Someone had gone in on purpose. Someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

That wasn't just an intrusion. That was a message. A warning shot carved in glass.

Not even Kael's voice cut through the fog right away. She heard him, his words, his tone, but they passed through her like wind through an open crypt. It wasn't until the silence stretched that her body remembered how to move. She blinked once. A breath came next, slow and halting. And then she leaned back.

Her spine touched Kael's frame, and that was enough to tether her again. He was standing. She was sitting. The shift of weight, the quiet sense of him there, solid and calm and watchful… It all helped reassemble her pieces.

Her voice, when it finally emerged, was no louder than a whisper. But the words hit with all the weight of a promise.

"The mission has changed," she said, "we're not going to play there anymore. We're going to burn it down."

Because there were few crimes in the galaxy that Scherezade deWinter couldn't forgive. But making her feel hunted, trying to make her feel small again? That was a sin that demanded fire.

She turned to look at Kael now.

"I'm going to go full Sith on their buttholes in two days," she warned, "and I'll understand if you prefer to stay here. Safe. Or go somewhere else until it's over."


Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

he let her finish, all of it, right up to full Sith on their buttholes, before he even blinked.

"Stay behind?" he said, voice quiet but even. "Babe, you're gonna need someone to hold your coat."


He stepped around the pilot's chair, slow and deliberate, and crouched just enough to meet her eye. What he saw there wasn't fear—it was fury barely held in check. The kind that could split planets if you just angled it right. His kind of fury, too.


He held her gaze, serious now.


"But we can't charge into this blind."
"Whoever cracked your comms with a handshake and a wink—" he gestured to the now-dark console, "—they've got eyes, resources, or worse, inside access. And I don't like surprises unless I'm the one handing out party favors."


Kael rose again, tapping lightly on the side of the cockpit wall with his knuckles—thinking, already strategizing.


"I'll ping Arq. Quietly. Have him look into 001. That code isn't just random. If there's a dossier, whisper, anything in the shadowfeeds, he'll find it."


He looked back at her, letting a grin play at the edge of his lips—low flame, not full spark.


"Besides… if you're going full Sith, I'm bringing fireworks."

Then he added, "Now... tell me what you didn't say out loud. The part that scared you."
He didn't press it. He just… waited. Present. Ready.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Most of the moments she had spent with Kael, he had seen her happy, sad, flirty, hungry, thrilled, basically, all the positive flavors on the emotion wheel. But it was the first time he had seen her go into the cold fury, and… And… And it didn't make him take a step back? Scherezade blinked, momentarily confused. He didn't know her family yet. He didn't know what the cold fury meant. And just like that, he had undone it, brought her out of it, with just a touch and a few words that gave her fury a respect that had taken her by surprise.

Force, she could kiss this man.

Yes, he was right. He was right about it all. The cold fury wasn't only a danger to those who triggered it, it was also potentially fatal to those who experienced it within them, for it would set them on a target and take away the ability to look anywhere else until it was done. It was how too many of the injuries the Sithling had sustained after learning she needed armor came to be.

And here Kael was. Already laying out a plan. Strategizing. Grounding. He was forcing her to think when her entire instinct screamed to act. What else could she do but nod in agreement to that, giving her consent without the need for words?

"I…" she started, fumbling. How could she explain it to this wonderful man without sounding like a complete airhead? I like to hunt but I panic when I'm the one being hunted sounded so stupid inside her head that she didn't dare phrase it that way out loud. It wasn't even really true. Well it was, it was just that…

"Someone broke into my system!" she yelled. Not at Kael. Never at Kaelon Virex . Only letting a small ember of her fury out, "This system has been protecting me for nearly fifteen years and no one has ever breached it! Ever!"

Pacing, arms twitching with nervous energy, like motion could shake the aftertaste off her skin. She probably looked half-feral. Fine. Better that than frozen.

"And this… This…" Usually, she could swear worse than any sailor. This time, she couldn't even find a word stronger than "Poodoo of a person, just waltzes in like that, and he knows. I don't know what he knows, but he knows! And I don't know! I don't know anything about him other than where he wants me to go!"

She sighed, allowing herself to come to a sudden pause, the air almost deflated out of her.

"The only time this has happened before," she whispered, looking at Kael, the pure terror of the situation all too obvious in her eyes, "the only time, it was in the Darkness. And this… It's not that, but it's close to it. Too close."

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael stood there, silent at first, taking her in. The pacing. The fire. The fear buried beneath the armor of curses and fury.

He'd seen people break before. Seen them fall apart, throw things, scream, beg the galaxy to be different. But Scherezade… she wasn't breaking. She was holding the line—fighting herself to not shatter the sky. That was something different. Something harder. Something strong.

He gave her that moment. Let the silence settle for a breath after she whispered the Darkness, like the very syllables were cracked glass she had to walk across barefoot.

Then he nodded once, slow.

"I get it," he said quietly. "Not all of it… but enough to know this isn't just some glitch in your firewall. This is personal. And dangerous. And it's not just about who's watching…" His hand moved instinctively to his jacket, fingers brushing over the inside pocket.

"…It's about what they want from you."

He didn't take the vial out yet. Just touched it. As if the memory of her blood—taken in trust, kept without agenda—was some kind of talisman.

Then something hit him. A thought, uninvited but persistent. Maybe it was her. Maybe it was the way she talked about the Force like it was real, personal, alive. Maybe it was the storm still rolling outside, or how she lit up rooms without even meaning to. Whatever it was… it cracked something open in him.

And Kael Virex did not open things easily.

He looked at her.

"Scherezade," he began, slow, careful, not with fear but with reverence, "You know I'm not like you. I've always been… outside of it. The Force, the flow, whatever it is. I never felt it. Never thought I needed it."

He paused, his expression turning a shade more vulnerable. No charm. No performance.

"But lately... I've started wondering if I've just been afraid. Of what it means to be connected. To all of it. To people. To the pain."

His hand finally came out of the jacket, holding the small vial between his fingers. Her blood, still sealed. Still his to give back—or not.

"I've got this," he said simply. "And I'm starting to think... I don't want to be on the outside anymore."

Then he looked her in the eye.

"Is it possible to learn it? Not to be like you. Just… to hear it. Even a whisper. Would it even… take...To me?"

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade blinked in confusion as the conversation took a too-sharp change of direction. A moment ago, Kael had wanted to know what she was going through, what she didn't want to say. He'd been there to ground her, to support her, he hadn't run away, and his own attempts to put it into words had come closer to the truth than anything she'd managed, even if he hadn't hit the mark completely.

And then just like that, the bottle she had given him had come out of his pocket, and now he was… He was… Asking to learn the Force?

Now, Scherezade was probably the most random person she knew, who jumped from topic to topic, whose threads of reason were an enigma to too many people who had issues following her paint by numbers logic. But even this sharp change had taken her by surprise and off her feet, in the figurative sense.

Any other person would have received, at the very least, a punch to the nose from the Sithling making her so weirded out, even if it really was just for a sliver of a moment. But Kael wasn't just any random person. She'd basically flat out given him her heart almost without pause, asking only for one thing before it could be made official. Her loyalty to him was ridiculous, even by her own standards. If he'd asked her to strip down and cover herself with Jabba poodoo to announce to anyone and everyone on the holonet that she was about to become Carnifex's new concubine, she would have laughed and done it in a heartbeat.

But this…

Was this something she was supposed to point out? Scherezade's experience usually dealt with chaos, and though she had probably racked a body count (of dead people, not partners) that would shame your average random murder goblin, when it came to… To this, she was almost as fresh as she had been the day she had come out of the pebble. Nothing in her lived experience even amounted close to this.

"You're not Force Dead," she said after a very long silence, "that means you're already connected."

And that little bottle she had given him, that wouldn't change that. It couldn't create something that wasn't there, only wildly enhance something that was, for a limited amount of time. But that wasn't really what he was asking. He wanted to go deeper into it. No, not like her, but… He wanted to feel it. To touch the Force. To become more than just connected. That was what he was asking.

"Kael…" she breathed. This was okay. This was something she could use to latch herself onto, to focus on and let the confusion fizzle out. He was connected like any other living thing was. But there was still a distance to go between being connected and being sensitive to the Force.

Her mind was doing that thing again. Not only Scherezade's emotions had a tendency to run in circles and explode randomly into new things. Her thoughts started speed running, spinning blueprints and theories and wild guesswork faster than she could control

"Not in time for Endor," she said as her calculations reached their conclusion. Even if she was completely wrong about his Force sensitivity, to begin training now would give them just under two days. That wasn't even enough time to learn how to shield one's mind, especially when you were an adult.

But still. Her brain was working with too much guessing at the foundation level. "I need your blood to make sure," she said, one of her many daggers appearing in her hand, "Just a drop, don't go all down the road and across the street for it."

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael didn't flinch. He didn't ask why.

He just nodded, like he'd already decided—like this had been simmering under his skin for longer than even he'd realized, and now that it had come to the surface, it made sense. Not in the way most things made sense, with numbers or logic or words. It made sense in that deep, slow-burn kind of way that changed the whole shape of a life without permission.

He stepped forward and offered his arm without hesitation, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt past the elbow. The skin there was a patchwork of old marks—burns from welding, a faint scar from a knife fight on Hoth, a spot near the wrist where he'd broken it during a swoop crash and never let it heal quite right. Battle-earned. Imperfect. Human.

"I trust you," he said simply, watching as the dagger caught the faint light from the cockpit, glinting silver with promise.


He didn't flinch when she approached. Not when the dagger pressed in, not when it sliced shallow and neat. His breath stayed steady. It wasn't about the pain—it was barely a pinprick compared to what he'd endured before. It was about what the act meant. About offering something of himself, something real, so she could see what might live beneath the surface of him.


Not just his blood. But his truth.


"If it's there," he murmured, eyes on hers, "I want to know. I want to feel it. Even if it's just a whisper."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She paused when he said he trusted her, needing a moment to understand what he'd meant. To be honest, Scherzade hadn't planned on being the one to prick his finger, but since that was what he was expecting now… Of course he trusted her. He'd seen her with her blades. Needing for anything from the smallest cut to the largest beheading was where the Sithling always felt like she was in her own territory.

She made the incision quickly, just a nick, and now she waited, allowing the blood to pool. Too many people thought they had to squeeze to get the blood out, but Scherezade knew better. Squeezing popped perfectly good vessels. Letting the blood pool took a few moments longer, but the healing was faster at the microscopic level. A superior method, always.

When the drop was thick enough, she leaned in and licked it. Quick. Like a feline testing the water. There was no need for emotion here. No intimacy. Just precision.

The Blood Hound straightened up again, her face scrunching slightly. For this one thing, Kael was as any other; she did enjoy the taste of his blood. Or anyone else's She was a Blood Hound, not a blood drinker. Blood was a tool. A medium. A way to gain knowledge or to kill. Never a source of nourishment or pleasure.

Still, she closed her eyes as the metallic tang overtook her tastebuds, and focused. The blood whispered to her in a language only she could understand with those special senses and could never actually physically hear or find words to explain, not even close. Memories offered themselves, all random, disjointed, and cloaked in a red haze, but she pushed them aside. She didn't want memories.

What she needed was foundations. The blueprint upon which Kael's body had been formed and shaped. Unlike with other attempts, the blood she had taken would not try to drown her, and could not even if it wanted to. It was more like trying to swim into the core of a world, slowly, every stroke taking her so much deeper and yet not deep enough.

When her eyes finally opened, reality took a moment to reassemble itself. Edges found their way back. Colors snapped into place. The taste in her mouth was fading. But she had what she needed.

"There's enough for me to try," Scherezade said softly, "but it's not going to be easy. It's probably going to hurt you. A lot. And there will be considerable recovery time. Only if you make it through all of that, and it's going to take at least a few weeks, you can start training. Like I said earlier, you are not a child, so little to nothing will come easily. Nothing will feel natural, until everything does."

But that was not the whole story. She exhaled. The part she had just explained was the manageable part. Kael had a spine. She didn't doubt his ability to suffer through hardship and come out the other end.

But the rest of it…

"You're also going to have someone to mentor you," she sighed, "The occasional assistance with crossing your t's or dotting your I's is fine, but I don't want to be your Master in any capacity. That's not a dynamic either of us should want."

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael took it all in with a steady, quiet nod—the pain, the time, the toll, all of it. It didn't scare him. He'd lived his life by instinct, by grit, by surviving rooms that should've buried him. Now there was something beyond all of that. A path that didn't just mean surviving. It meant connecting.

He flexed the fingers of his wounded arm once, watching the skin already begin to stitch itself back together. Her cut had been clean, surgical. He wouldn't even have a scar.

"I wouldn't want that from you either," he said, voice low, no trace of argument or disappointment. "If this is something I'm going to build… I want it to be mine. Not a shadow of yours."

He stepped closer, just enough to keep her in his orbit, but gave her space where she needed it.

"You've already given me more than most would dare. I don't need to be your student to keep walking beside you." A pause, then a faint smile tugging at his mouth. "And let's be honest, I'd be a nightmare as a Padawan anyway."

The flicker of humor faded gently. He was still serious. Still ready.

"So…" he asked, "what's the next step?

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade blinked. Kael wanted to be more connected and then considered… Jedi?! Not that she had a problem with Jedi, except for their… Well, almost everything, and sure, there were a few individual Jeid who were great people, even some of her friends! But she had never, not in a million billion gazillion years, had thought someone she was involved in on the romantic sphere would lean into that.

Perhaps, she thought, she was more like her grandmother than she wanted to admit. Eww. No, push that thought to the side.

"Kael," she said, eyebrows raised, her tone almost a warning as she approached him, hands coming up to rest on both sides of his face, "Sweetheart, you do realize I'm a Sith, right? Love for violence, blood rituals, granddaughter two different Dark Lords of the Sith, Princess of a super secret Sith society, and all of that?"

There were many next steps she could take. But before she could offer any of them, she had to make sure there were no miscommunication about this between them.

"Right?" she asked again before he could answer.

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael didn't flinch when her hands found his face. In fact, he leaned into them slightly, his smile tugging slow and crookedly across his lips like he was savoring the moment she tried to warn him off—like it made her all the more irresistible.

"I do realize," he said, voice soft and teasing, eyes locked on hers. "You think I forgot the whole blood magic, rage-powered, knife-happy part? Trust me, sweetheart—I'm very aware of who you are."

He paused, just long enough to let the grin grow a shade more mischievous.

"I just always thought Jedi and Sith were the same basic stew—one side uses spoons, the other stabs with the fork."

He said it lightly, but not mockingly. And after a beat, his tone grew more sincere.

"Look, I don't think every Force user is good or evil just because of a label. That's too easy. Too black-and-white. You're not evil. You're complicated, stubborn, brilliant, chaotic as hell… but not evil. And I think the Force—whatever it is—has more to do with who you choose to be than what colors you wear or what Order you kneel to."

He shrugged slightly in her hands.


"So yeah. I know what you are. And I still want to learn...Somehow."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Okay. Okay! He hadn't forgotten. That was good. Scherezade felt confident enough to lower her hands, now letting them rest almost casually but not quite so against his chest. This wasn't a fight. This was looking out for one another, so touch was supposed to be okay.

"Good or evil are just points of view," she tried to explain herself, "And you're absolutely right, it's about the choices you make and not the colors you wear. But there still are differences. Important ones. The path of the Jedi… It really sucks."

She sighed. It was hard to explain the things that went beyond what he'd mentioned, the choices and the colors. There were things the Jedi couldn't do. There were things the Sith couldn't do. At least not properly. Both paths came with their own limitations.

"Just promise me you'll try not to alter your moral compass based on the Jedi teachings," she finally said, her lips curving into a smile that radiated, now that she had found the right words. If he could at least try to do that, Scherezade would have absolutely no issue with whoever would teach him.

Did she feel that way about the Sith too? Well. No. Sith were absolutely better, even if she took certain issues with them as well.

"And it's not going to happen here either," she added, "when we get your Force sensitivity up, I mean. There are things on this ship you're not feeling right now, but if you came in here without the proper defenses, you might shatter. In soul, not in body."