Private Ashes By Now

[Katarine Ryiah]

"As Much as you Burn me Baby, I should Be Ashes By Now"
​

Coruscant never really slept, but now, under Sith occupation, even its quiet moments felt staged. Manufactured. Watched. Katarine Ryiah stood beneath the thin stream of water in her apartment's refresher unit, eyes closed, letting the sound drown out the city's distant hum. The place was small, too small and too exposed for an investigator, but she hadn't chosen Coruscant. The case had chosen her. Serial killings in the underlevels, victims marked by something… ritualistic. Force-adjacent. Dangerous.

So she stayed. Alone. Hidden in plain sight.

The water shut off with a soft hiss. She stepped out, wrapped briefly in a towel, then discarded it, and moved with quiet efficiency. Toothbrush. Mirror. A glance at her own reflection showed tired eyes, and damp hair clinging to her shoulders. No armor. No robes. Just a woman trying to survive in the heart of enemy territory.

She pulled on her undergarments, then loose pajama bottoms...and froze. Something shifted in the air. Not a sound, exactly. A presence. Her senses sharpened instantly, the Force rippling outward in warning...Too late.

A blur of motion slammed into her. Force speed. Her back cracked against the wall, breath punching out of her lungs as the room smeared into streaks of shadow and light. Instinct took over, and she pushed back, matching the attacker's speed, her palm striking the stranger's chest and sending him hurtling into the opposite wall.

She took one sharp breath, and then he was on her again, faster this time. Her shoulders hit the wall hard, his grip pinning her there before she could fully recover. The air between them burned with something volatile and dark, and horribly familiar.

Then he leaned in and kissed her.

For a split second, everything fractured. The Force twisted inside her, something deep in her blood reacting, an old corruption, a mutation seeded long ago in the shadow of the cult. The dark side surged through the contact like a drug, warm, intoxicating, dangerous.

Her body softened.

Her mind blurred.

Just for a heartbeat, she considered it. Letting go. Letting the darkness in. Letting that darkness take the weight off her shoulders...

No.

Her senses snapped back into place with a violent clarity. Her knee drove upward toward his groin, but he anticipated it. His hand caught her leg mid-strike, grip iron-tight, and with a sharp twist he flung her sideways. She hit the edge of a table, pain jolting through her ribs before she crumpled to the floor, vision swimming. The room tilted. That lingering dark-side haze clung stubbornly, making everything feel just slightly out of sync.

Katarine pressed a hand to her head, shaking it once, twice, almost like she could physically dislodge the sensation. A slow, familiar smirk greeted her when her vision steadied. Leaning casually against the wall, completely at ease in the chaos he'd created, he stood. Unchanged in all the ways that mattered, and worse in all the ones that didn't.

Her glare cut through the haze as she pushed herself upright, voice low, sharp, controlled.

"What do you want, Daxium?"

​

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

"As Much as you Burn me Baby, I should Be Ashes By Now"
​

Daxium Ryiah stood there, smirking.

It wasn't just amusement, it was playful, almost boyish in the way he seemed to enjoy the chaos he'd caused… and the way her body still struggled to recover from it. He watched her like it was entertainment, like her disorientation, the lingering pull of that mutation in her blood, was something he savored.

But his face lied. His eyes, those yellowed, dark-stained eyes, were something else entirely.

Controlled. Dominant. Calculating.

Like always.

His powerful arms folded slowly across his broad chest as he leaned back against the wall, studying her as she pushed herself upright, still unsteady. He didn't move to help. Didn't speak right away. Just watched while measuring, dissecting, and enjoying.

Then, casually, he spoke through his smirk.

"I heard you and Connel Vanagor broke up," he said, voice smooth, almost conversational. "I came to offer my condolences."

That smirk deepened.

"Though… you know, if you wore something other than a sports bra to bed, he might've stayed."

The words barely finished leaving his mouth before he vanished with force speed again. Katarine had grabbed the fallen lamp from the table and hurled it across the room in a sharp arc, but he was moving.

The lamp shattered uselessly against the wall.

Then suddenly his hand closed around her throat in the same instant, slamming her back again, his grip tight, unyielding. A low, dangerous growl rumbled from his chest, the playful edge gone in a flash, replaced by something far more volatile.

Threatening.

Possessive.

Alive with the dark side.

For a heartbeat, they stayed like that, his grip tightening, her breath strained but her gaze unbroken.

She glared at him, not with fear but fury. She glared as long as she dared, but the contact was causing the dizziness to come back again, so she moved. A sharp twist, a surge of Force through her limbs, she broke his grip cleanly, knocking his arm aside as she stepped back, breath steadying despite the burn in her throat.

Anger grounded her.

Focused her.

She turned away from him just long enough to snatch her t-shirt from the floor, yanking it over her head with an irritated, almost dismissive motion before facing him again.

Her eyes locked onto his.

Hard. Searching.

"Please tell me," she said, voice edged like a blade, "I'm not looking at the serial killer I've been tracking for three weeks."

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

"As Much as you Burn me Baby, I should Be Ashes By Now"

​

Daxium snorted softly at her question, the sound edged with quiet disdain. "Like I have nothing better to do than kill pathetic civilians." Before she could respond, he moved, fluid, and effortless, vaulting onto her bed as if he owned the space. He didn't bother with his boots, stretching out across the covers, one ankle crossing over the other as his hands slipped behind his head. The smirk returned, easy and infuriating, like this was all a game he'd already won.

Katarine rolled her eyes, turning away from him before the expression could deepen into something sharper. She grabbed her towel, dragging it through her damp hair with more force than necessary, then reached for her brush. The strands snagged and resisted, a tangled mess she attacked with quiet irritation.

The mirror didn't help. Every time she caught his reflection, lounging, watching, and amused, her mood darkened further. So she ignored him.

Or tried to.

Daxium had always been impossible to ignore.

He said nothing, just watched her, the silence stretching between them like a wire pulled too tight. There was patience in it, calculated, and deliberate. He knew her well enough to wait. Knew she'd break first.

Just like she always did.

The brush hit the counter with a sharp crack.

"I wouldn't know what you've been doing," she snapped, finally turning, "because you vanished from the hospital on Naboo and haven't contacted me." The words came out sharper than she intended, but underneath them was something else. Something she couldn't quite bury. Annoyance, and something dangerously close to hurt. She hated that he could still pull that from her. Hated that, in a galaxy this large, he was the only piece of her past still breathing.

She crossed her arms, grounding herself.

"So what are you doing here now?"

Daxium didn't move from the bed. He didn't even shift.

His gaze held hers, that smirk fading, not into softness, but into something colder. More deliberate.

"I promised you a lifetime of misery, Katarine. It doesn't stop just because you found a way to cheat death."

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

"As Much as you Burn me Baby, I should Be Ashes By Now""
​

She wanted to ask him, after everything, after all these years, if they could just let it go. Let the past die. Let whatever this was between them finally burn out. But she already knew the answer. So instead, she turned off the light over the sink with a sharp flick and stalked across the room. The small apartment felt even smaller with him in it. She climbed onto the far side of the bed, putting as much distance between them as possible, and curled onto her side, back to him.

For a few moments, her shoulders stayed rigid and tight with anger, defiance, and control.

Then they sank.

Just slightly, but enough.

The weight of it hit all at once. Another failed relationship. Another person she couldn't hold onto. Another reminder that nothing in her life stayed whole for long.

Behind her, Daxium went quiet. He watched her for a moment, something unreadable passing across his face. And then, just for a split second, the sharp edges of him softened. The calculation, the cruelty… slipped. "Look," he said, quieter now, "I really am sorry about Vanagor."

"No, you're not." Her voice came muffled through the pillow.

"True," he admitted easily. "But don't be mopey. You can do way better than some freak who hides behind a mask."

That earned a soft, humorless snort from her. "Sure. Because my track record in that department is stellar."

"Come on," he said, pushing himself up slightly on his elbows. "Terran was a wuss if I've ever seen one."

"Yeah?" she shot back, not turning. "He still managed to kick your ass on Dantooine."

The shift was instant. One moment he was lounging, the next he was on her. Force speed blurred the space between them as he pinned her into the mattress, both hands wrapping around her throat. His face was inches from hers now, livid, all restraint burned away. A low, dangerous growl vibrated in his chest, and for a second....a real second... he looked like he might actually hurt her.

Katarine didn't flinch. Didn't look away, she just stared right back into those livid yellow tinted eyes.

Something in that held him, because a moment later, he exhaled sharply, jaw tightening, and shoved himself off her with visible effort. He turned away, running a hand through his hair like he needed to physically shake the impulse out of himself.

He crossed to the small fridge, yanked it open, and pulled out the bottle of liquor she'd bought three days ago. She watched him now, eyes narrowing slightly, now wondering how long he'd been watching her.

He poured a shot, the liquid catching the dim light as he lifted the glass toward her in a silent offer. Katarine pushed herself upright, crossing her legs on the bed. She shook her head.

"I'm not drinking while the wolf's in the sheep pen."

Daxium paused, lips pursing as he considered that. Then, with a small shrug, he knocked the shot back himself and poured another. He took a seat at the small round table, leaning back in the chair as he sipped, watching her over the rim of the glass.

"As much as I'd love to sit here," he drawled, "and braid your hair while you tell me how heartbroken you are that you couldn't take your lame ex's virginity..." He yelled as her datapad flew across the room before he could finish. This time it hit him.

He winced, raising his hands in mock surrender, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth. "Alright, alright...truce."

She didn't look convinced.

"I'm here to help you find this killer."

Katarine arched a brow, unimpressed. "Really? Would that be before or after tormenting me for a lifetime?"

His grin widened, slow and unapologetic. "I can multitask," he said. "I'm talented like that."