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."

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

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

​

"I don't want your help, Daxium. Just go away."

He set his glass down with an easy clink and lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Suit yourself. Your funeral." He rose, smoothing out his shirt like he actually intended to leave, and strolled toward the door with a lightness that didn't match the tension still crackling in the room. Katarine closed her eyes, exhaling slowly, like she was counting down the seconds before she snapped.

"…What do you know that I don't?"

His hand paused on the doorknob. He glanced back over his shoulder, that familiar, infuriating smirk sliding into place. "For one thing?" he said lightly. "How to keep a man."

She moved before she even registered the decision. Force speed detonated the distance between them. The apartment blurred into motion, walls, shadows, and shattered lights, as they collided again. Katarine's anger surged hot and sharp, fueling every strike, every movement. She wanted to hit him, just once, clean and solid, but Daxium had always been better at this. Stronger. More precise. Infuriatingly composed even in chaos.

But she was faster. Always had been. It had been that way since they were children, her speed against his strength, and he'd used it to his advantage more times than she could count. The table went over with a crash, the bottle of liquor shattering against the floor. Glass skidded. Liquid spread. The fight snapped from blur to stillness in a single breath.

They froze. Chest to chest. Breathing hard. Lightsabers in hand. Daxium's hilt hovered at her throat, a victorious curve pulling at his mouth, until it faltered because Katarine's own hilt was pressed firmly into his stomach.

"Looks like you've been practicing," he muttered.

Her lips twitched, humor edged in something far sharper. "You know, a few inches lower, and I could make sure the only woman in your life is a reconstructive surgeon." To make her point, she shoved the hilt downward just slightly, pressing it uncomfortably between his legs until he jerked.

He growled, low and immediate, his finger twitching toward the activation switch of his blade as his eyes locked onto hers. Katarine didn't back off. If anything, her gaze narrowed, challenging, almost daring.

"Are you going to behave?" she asked coolly.

"Don't test me, Katarine" he whispered, like a venomous hiss between them.

"Then stop talking about Connel."

He rolled his eyes, exhaling through his nose. "Fine. I won't bring it up again."

"You swear?" There was another pause, longer this time, as he stared into her eyes. She could feel the dyad in the Force as he brushed against the part of her mind that was reserved only for him. Then, with a grunt, he loosened his grip and let his hilt drop to the floor with a dull thud. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his hand between them…

…and extended his pinky. Just like when they were kids. The shift was subtle, but it hit harder than anything else. Katarine hesitated for half a second, then withdrew her saber and hooked her own pinky around his.

Their hands hovered there between them, tension still thrumming through the bond.

"I swear."

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

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

She was the first to pull away.

Katarine set her lightsaber down on the humming air conditioning unit and took a slow look around the apartment, her deep green eyes scanning the aftermath of their fight. They settled on the spreading stain of liquor soaking into the floor.

She sighed.

"So much for my security deposit."

Daxium chuckled under his breath, crouching to pick up what remained of the shattered bottle, turning the jagged neck in his hand as if it amused him. "Looks like you could use another drink."

"No." She rubbed the back of her neck, exhaustion creeping in now that the adrenaline was fading. "I've been up for thirty-six hours. I need sleep."

He straightened, expression shifting just slightly, less playful, more intent. "You asked me what I know, and I know we need to get a drink."

She stared at him. Really looked at him. This could be a trap. With Daxium, it usually was. If he wanted her dead, though… he would've done it already. Then again, he'd always preferred to play first. Stretch things out. Push. Still… a bar was information. Contacts. Whispers, and somehow, impossibly, he was ahead of her.

That alone was enough to irritate her into agreeing. "…Fine." She crossed to the closet, yanking it open and pulling down a pair of worn jeans and her black leather jacket. She'd just started getting dressed when she saw him move out of the corner of her eye.

Daxium had opened her top dresser drawer, and pulled out a pair of her underwear. He held them up like he was evaluating merchandise. "Put these in the 'yes' pile. We may need to flirt our way in."

"Ugh!" She snatched them from his hand and shoved them back into the drawer. "Could you be any more disgusting?"

His grin answered that for him. She stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. A few minutes later, she emerged in jeans, a fitted tank, and her leather jacket, hair finally dry and pulled back just enough to stay out of her face.

Daxium was already at the door. He opened it with a flourish and dipped into an exaggerated bow. "Shall we?"

She rolled her eyes but stepped past him first. Together, they moved out into the neon-lit streets. The lower levels of Coruscant buzzed with life, if you could call it that. Flickering signs cast harsh color over cracked pavement and rusted infrastructure. The air was thick, the noise constant.

"How did you even find out about this investigation?" she asked as they walked.

"I've got a guy who knows things."

She shot him a look. "If we're going to work together, you're going to have to stop dodging my questions." He made a sound of mild disgust but relented slightly.

"The markings on the bodies were on the HoloNet," he said. "I recognize them."

She slowed half a step. "You do?"

"Yep."

She waited, but he kept walking. Katarine exhaled sharply through her nose and fell back into step beside him, resisting the urge to shove him into the nearest wall. Her gaze drifted instead to their surroundings.

Thugs lingered in clusters, deals passing hands in shadowed corners. The scent of spice and cheap stimulants hung in the air. Some figures barely moved at all, curled along the edges of the street, forgotten, hollow-eyed.

This wasn't the Coruscant of Senate holos and polished skylines. This was the version no one talked about, and from what she could see… the Sith hadn't bothered to fix it.

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

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

They walked several blocks in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts while quietly scanning their surroundings. Katarine noticed the way Daxium's cold, calculating gaze remained fixed ahead, but she had no doubt he was tracking everything around them, such as the subtle shifts in movement, and the dangerous edges of the crowd. Whether it was his size, his presence, or something darker beneath the surface, people instinctively gave them space.

Eventually, they turned a corner and approached a nightclub. The bass thudded through the walls, heavy enough that Katarine felt it in her chest before they even reached the door. Her stomach tightened; her ears already protested the noise.

They slipped into the line, and when their turn came, Daxium stepped forward and locked eyes with the bouncer, unblinking, deliberate.

"We're on the list."

The man's expression went slack for a heartbeat, like a switch had been flipped.

"You're both on the list," he said, stepping aside without question.

Inside, the club was a storm of pulsing lights and chaotic rhythm.

Katarine leaned closer to Daxium, raising her voice over the music. "Did you just mind trick him?"

He glanced at her, a crooked smirk tugging at his lips. "Yep. You Jedi waste time with the hand-waving. It's unnecessary." His tone turned teasing. "I could teach you."

She narrowed her eyes and looked away. "No thanks. I'm not interested in learning anything from you, especially not the dark side."

"Really?"

There was something in his voice, too confident, too knowing, that pulled her attention back to him. Before she could respond, he grabbed her hand and spun her out onto the dance floor.

The sudden movement caught her off guard, but a laugh broke free anyway. Katarine had always loved to dance. And, annoyingly enough, it had been Daxium who taught her, back when things between them were simpler.

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

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

​

For a few moments, Katarine found herself smiling, genuinely smiling, and feeling lighter than she had in months. The music threaded through her, pulsing in time with her heartbeat as she swayed, lifting her arms, letting herself move without thought. It was exhilarating, especially with Dax. There was something intoxicating about his freedom and how he moved through the world without hesitation, without restraint, doing exactly as he pleased. It was everything she was not: disciplined, controlled, always guarded.

For a fleeting instant, she forgot why they were there. Forgot the danger. Forgot the possibility that this was all a carefully laid trap.

Then his arm slid around her waist.

Reality snapped back into place.

The music warped, stretching and distorting. A wave of dizziness rolled through her, the room tilting just slightly off balance. He leaned in, his cheek brushing hers, his scent filling her senses. She gasped softly, eyes fluttering shut as she fought to keep her footing. Everything around her blurred, but his voice cut through, sharp and clear against her ear.

"Hallway behind the bar. One guard. Think you can get back there?"

She nodded before her mind could catch up with the motion.

When he pulled away, it felt like stepping out of warmth into open air, cold and sudden. She staggered, bumping into a woman and muttering a quick apology, shaking her head as if that might steady her. By the time she refocused, Dax was already moving off the dance floor.

She followed.

"Where are you going?"

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder, then tipped his chin toward the velvet-draped lounge above, where three barely dressed dancers lingered at the entrance.

"I'm going to see if there are any leads up there."

She hissed under her breath, rolling her eyes as a sharp, unwelcome spike of jealousy cut through her. "Of course you are."

He turned fully this time, narrowing his eyes at her. "Don't judge me with those judgey little eyes." He waved his fingers in front of her face, and she swatted his hand away.

That's when she noticed.

His hands were bare.

Her expression shifted instantly. Daxium's blood and his skin, it wasn't something he could usually risk exposing. One careless touch could be lethal, and control had never exactly been his strength. That was his mutation, the way the darkside response was hers.

"Your hands…"

He smirked, holding her gaze. "Are you telling me to keep my hands to myself?"

"You know exactly what I'm telling you."

He winked, unbothered, and turned toward the stairs.

Katarine watched him go, her eyes narrowing as she shot a glare at his back. Then she exhaled, turning toward the bar. If there was a guarded hallway back there, it wasn't random, and if Dax was chasing distractions, she'd have to be the one who stayed focused.

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

"As Much as you Burn me Baby, I Should be Ashes by Now."
​

Katarine slipped through the crowd toward the bar, forcing herself to ignore the lingering warmth still crawling across her skin from Dax's touch. The bass of the music thudded behind her, muffled now beneath the pounding in her chest. Focus. She needed to focus.

The hallway behind the bar was narrow and dimly lit, hidden behind a curtain of flickering blue beads and half-obscured by drunk patrons stumbling past with drinks in hand. Just as Dax had said, there was one guard stationed at the entrance, broad-shouldered and bored, arms folded across his chest.

Katarine slowed her pace, lowering her gaze as though she were simply another intoxicated clubgoer drifting too far from the dance floor. The guard barely looked at her.

She brushed her fingers lightly against the edge of the wall beside her, reaching into the Force with careful precision. A sharp metallic clang erupted farther down the corridor, loud enough to echo through the back rooms.

The guard jerked upright immediately. "What the hell?” He pushed off the wall and disappeared toward the noise.

The second he turned the corner, Katarine slipped into the restricted hallway.

The music faded behind thick walls, replaced by the low hum of machinery and ventilation systems. Her boots moved silently across polished black floors as she scanned the doors. Storage. Accounting. Private suites. Then one door slightly ajar caught her attention.

Inside, the room was colder than the rest of the club, lined with datapads, terminals, and stacks of physical files. A faint chemical smell lingered in the air.

Katarine's stomach tightened.

She stepped further in, quickly rifling through the nearest folder. Medical reports. Experiment logs. Subject numbers instead of names.

Her expression darkened as she flipped through page after page.

Mutation stability failures. Force sensitivity amplification trials. High mortality rates.

"What are you people doing…" she whispered.

Then she found the map. Folded between two reports was a detailed schematic of several underground facilities connected by old mining tunnels beneath the city. One location had been circled repeatedly in red ink.Katarine immediately tucked the map and a handful of the experiment files into the inside pocket of her jacket.

Then she heard the footsteps. Her head snapped toward the doorway but it was too late.

The guard stood there staring at her, confusion turning to suspicion almost instantly. "Hey, who the hell are you?"

Katarine blinked once, then held the guards gaze dramatically. “I’m just a drunk girl looking for the bathroom. Tell me to leave.”

She watched as his face went blank and he nodded. “Bathroom is that way sweets. Get out of here!”

Katarine felt her stomach drop as she started to squeeze past the guard, but before she could there was another flash of Force speed. She heard a growl and Dax appeared, snapping the guards neck as easily as if it had been a pretzel stick from the bar.

Then, somewhere upstairs, shouting erupted followed by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. She let him tug her towards the side exit door, as a security siren started sounding. The second they were out on the street they both broke into a run.