The Red Crown of Eshan
The return to Eshan was typical. She was welcomed and given the duties she had been assigned while she was gone. Quinn had the routine down, her Council far more capable than she could have expected, yet something lingered.
Her mind drifted back to the Casino. Quinn had been excited for the outing. Before that, however, she had locked herself away in her room, unwilling to see anyone beyond a select few. Thankfully, the Council had been able to shoulder the day-to-day responsibilities until she found enough of herself to return to her duties.
Even then, she had needed the constant reminder that she couldn't hide away forever. A broken heart deserved time to mend... but a Queen was expected to endure far worse than heartbreak.
The winds were quiet, and the sun cascaded along the spires of Eshan City. Life was ordinary for the planet, protected not only by their Queen, but also her connections. The Mandalorians and the Sith quietly stood at the ready to protect their appointed royal.
Quinn felt uneasy with that thought; she wondered if she had been the chosen one to take the throne years ago, if that power would still linger. Or would she be dead, long assassinated by the Jedi?
Rolling her eyes, Quinn decided to focus her mind elsewhere, along with a change of scenery. Standing, she moved from the throne room and, with a wave of her hand, dismissed the advisors that had gathered for a meeting. They could sense just from the woman's stature that something was bothering her. It had been some time since they had dealt with the follies of a young Queen, but the old women were used to this — they would wait.
Quinn moved along the hallways, heading towards the vast garden that at night, when the moon was high, illuminated everything. Quinn stood at the center of the spiraling flowerbeds; she inhaled the cool mountain air. She would never grow tired of this feeling, the freedom she could taste that made Eshan home.
Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander back to the Casino, feeling the inklings of familiarity at the edge of her consciousness. She exhaled softly as her memories mulled over the small details. Even now, she could still feel pieces of her companion that day.
She wondered if it was a side effect of the connection.
The slower she breathed, the more vivid the memory became. She could still feel the warmth, even if artificial.
Abregado-rae
Quinn felt it, the darkness she had entrusted to Arris. It lingered within the woman, a fragment of the Phobis Core that answered only because Quinn had willed it to.
They were still weightless, drifting where they had held their ground against the Mandalorians. Wreckage and debris spun slowly through the void of the shattered Casino. Every so often, flashes of the emergency lighting washed across areas, illuminating the chaos that had just ensued.
Quinn remembered, for a long time watching her, simply watching Arris.
"...You've had your fun," She murmured, her breath still uneven from the fight.
Slowly, she pushed herself forward with the smallest movement, gliding effortlessly towards Arris. As she reached her, Quinn's fingers found the front of the woman's suit first. Gentle hands smoothed absentmindedly over the surprisingly soft fabric, before curling gently around the lapels. It was enough to steady them as they drifted among the chaos.
Only then did Quinn raise her other hand…
Cool fingertips brushed across Arris's cheek before settling there. Her thumb traced slowly along her cheek, brushing away a streak of soot that had found its way across pale synthetic skin. Quinn lingered, quietly studying the woman as though making sure she was still there, still Arris.
The fight was over… for now.
For all the horrors Quinn carried within her, she held Arris as though she were something precious.
Without another word, Quinn's hand slipped back to the Android's collar. Her grip tight, holding Arris still. Their bodies floated close, separated by little more than a shared breath.
The Force answered first.
Fragments of darkness hidden within Arris stirred, recognizing the one who had placed it there.
Quinn leaned in. Their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss. There was nothing hurried about it; it wasn't rushed or desperate; it just was. The kiss became the bridge through which the Phobis Core reached, the darkness unwinding itself from Arris in thin ribbons only the Force could perceive.
Her kiss deepened as Quinn drew a measured breath. The power obeyed.
The strain split the edge of her lip; a single bead of crimson drifted. Quietly she cursed the droplet, letting the kiss carry it onward. It brushed against Arris's tongue; the faint taste of iron lingered only for a heartbeat, but the quiet burn of the Dathomirian Witch's Bloodtrail lingered steadily. It faded as well, with the last strands of darkness slipped free, returning to Quinn.
The hunger settled.
Satisfied.
Quinn was the first to pull away, only by inches. Her hand had found its place against Arris's cheek at some point of the kiss, while the other rested against the front of her suit. Fingertips idly smoothed a wrinkle from the fabric without thinking, their foreheads nearly touching as hazel eyes searched the Android's face.
"There…" Quinn whispered, leaning forward so that the words would caress the woman's ear once more.
A faint smile found the corner of her lips.
"That belongs to me…"
Only then did Quinn finally let go, her fingers slipping reluctantly from Arris's suit before they drifted apart once more, leaving behind only the warmth of her touch and the memory of the kiss…
Quinn covered her mouth as she stared at the blooming roses in the garden. Her face was touched with the same crimson as the flowers.
"Arris won't remember any of that…"