#ain'ress

[sullustangin]

2022 SWTOR Secret Santa Fic

Happy Holidays to @thelealinhypehouse​ ! 

I was happily assigned to be your Santa.  One of the prompts you sent over was:  “My imperial agent Ain'res or my jedi master Sallaros. Ain in some snowball fight  with Theron or solo.”

I read into your blog a bit, noted your descriptions of Ain’res and his lovely braids, and picked up on his ‘hard-ass with a heart of gold’ attitude.  One thing did stand out to me in my research: the fact that Ain’res’s romantic pairing with Theron is an AU, given his issues and the dangers he voluntarily faces.  One of the major themes of Star Wars is hope.  So this gift fic straddles a space between your canon and your AU -- you can place in either universe.  I hope this makes you happy.

~~

…it was time to move on. He’d reached that decision less than a week before Life Day rolled around at Odessen.  

Well over a year ago, Ain'res'sabosen had helped the Alliance save the galaxy.  His bags had been packed the second the victory broadcast had finished.

No, it wasn’t because he had hated the Commander or had disapproved of the Alliance’s presence as a peacekeeping aid fleet.  Ain’res had needed to go home.  To the Empire.  

And so he had.  

Someone had to defend it against all foes, visible and invisible.  That included far too many Sith who’d let power go to their heads. Cipher Seven was to return to Ghost status, and after each mission, simply disappear.  Every mission.

Months, a year passed. Every success was met with a tingle of adrenaline and a flash of dopamine for a job well done… and yet his fingers always found the rings woven into his hair.  

But then Lana Beniko asked him to return, because Theron Shan – the Alliance’s black ops coordinator and operations manager of Odessen – had seemingly defected.

He was dangerous to the Empire, as well as the rest of the galaxy.  That was Ain’res’ rationale at the time.  

“Seemingly” was why Ain’res really needed to move on now: it had been a charade, everything had been set to right, and his former firing range partner was no longer another target on his list.

…but why was it so daunting to move his bag to the shuttle he’d reserved for transport off-world?

Maybe it was the snow. It reminded Ain’res of Csilla; even though he’d been born on urban Cioral, Csilla was much prettier to look at, much like Ain’res.

It was also far more dangerous -- much like Ain’res.  

Ain’res finally pushed himself to stand and took one last look at his quarters on Odessen, making sure he hadn’t left a charger or something behind.  

There was no need to check the drawers; he’d never really unpacked.  Laundry would be washed and replaced right back into his bag… he never intended on staying with the Alliance.

Why was this so hard?

As Ain’res marched down the hallway, one of his braids bounced right into his line of sight. Pesky thing.  Impulsively, he chomped down on the end to keep it from smacking him.  Fortunately, he managed to avoid the rings, this time.

~~

“Are you sure we can’t persuade you to stay with the Alliance?  Your talent would be used for the betterment of the galaxy,” Lana again asked him.  

Ain’res shook his head.

Both of the Alliance advisors had been loitering, deliberately, in the hallway en route to the shuttle launch area to try to catch him.  If Ain’res had wanted to avoid them, he could have…

But it was sort of nice to feel like he was someone they wanted to keep around.

“I still serve the people of the Empire.  Not every Sith Lord… is as pragmatic as you are,” Ain’res chose his words carefully. “They don’t seem to understand that without the people, there is no Empire…or tax base with which to run it.”  Lana smirked at that smart comment. “Their worst impulses…need to be checked.”

“And you’re the man to do it,” Theron said, looking straight at the blaster pistols at Ain’res’s hips.

Ain’res nodded again. “I have to be.”

Sudden, both advisors’ datapads screeched.  Theron’s hand was quick to reach for his implants, beating Lana’s attempt to draw out her datapad from her voluminous robes.  “Well, looks like you’ll be here with us a little longer, Cipher Seven – inclement weather.  Lana, the Commander is – ”

“Absolutely not going to try to land in this!”  Lana had already whirled around in a great billowing cloud of Sith tailoring as she marched toward the nearest holocomm to delay and deter the Commander arriving.

It wasn’t the first time a landing hadn’t quite gone to plan.

That left Ain’res and Theron Shan standing in the hallway.  After an awkward pause, Ain’res asked, “Any idea how long this will be?”

Theron shrugged. “Depends on how much snow it drops and whether it starts icing over – we should know within the next hour or two.” Theron jerked his head toward the docks. “Want to take a look?”

“Yes.”  The answer came out unbidden, and by the time Ain’res had a moment to feel self-conscious about his eagerness, he was already following Theron down the hallway.

Eventually the two men emerged on the military docks.   Aygo was directing traffic and ushering people to either get inside or get cold weather gear.  The two spies took the hint: they grabbed two standard-issue all-weather thermal jackets before darting out of the hangar bay.  

As the pair followed the trail out toward the shooting range, Ain’res couldn’t stop himself from feeling that little jolt of awe as he passed through Odessen’s now sleeping forest.

This planet in winter was beautiful.   Maybe even prettier than Csilla.  There was a promise of spring here.  The snow was temporary; the joy or inconvenience it brought was fleeting.  Change was possible.  That wasn’t the case with Csilla…(and maybe not Ain’res either).

“Should have brought blasters out here.  Ah well. Probably wouldn’t have fired well in this weather,” Theron mused distractedly as he scanned the terrain around them.  

Ain’res was a resourceful man.  He did not miss opportunities.  

A strangled yelp came out of Theron as Ain’res’s well-aimed snowball hit him right where his collar met his skin.  Despite himself, Ain’res giggled –

And promptly got a face full of snow in retribution.

It was on.

There was some divine comedy in two of the deadliest men in the galaxy engaging in something as juvenile as a snowball fight.

Then again, neither of them really had the chance to be juveniles in the first place, so perhaps the Divine had mercy on them, just this once.

The fresh cold snow hit Ain’res’s skin and lingered; Chiss ran cool by nature.  The flakes eventually evaporated away, but the edges of the tiny crystals were briefly felt.  The prickle again summoned a memory, a good one, as he heaved snow in Theron’s direction.

Eventually, the two juggernauts slowed as the snow continued to fall down, making their steps heavier. They staggered about, grabbing for snow, their accuracy gone, their lungs gasping for breath.

It was fun.

They never did come to an agreement as to who hit the ground first and didn’t get up again; it was too close to call.  

Exhausted, as they were both trying to catch their breath despite their laughter, Ain’res betrayed himself; he looked at Theron’s face.  …they’d become fast ...friends again after Theron had returned.  

That word came so hard for him.  

When Theron was cleared from medbay, after he returned from Nathema, they’d had a drink.  Theron had settled for ginger ale, given his condition. They had laughed then also, but over such a horrible thing:  the deadly cat-and-mouse game they’d almost gotten to play.  Thank the Stars for the Commander’s less bloody thinking (at least compared to Lana).

Most people would have been horrified to be a Cipher target, but Theron had understood.  He’d been SIS; he knew how these things were, regardless of personal feelings.

…And there was the problem…

Looking right back at Ain’res.

Ain’res had been caught.

He felt the flood of heat on his face as he tried to look away, redirect his own attention --

Yet, even in his panic at being found out, Ain’res observed a certain sadness, just before half of Theron’s mouth hitched up.  

“I thought Chiss were good with cold weather,” he said.

Ain’res blinked at him, confused.  

Theron pointed with a gloved finger, keeping his hands close to himself.  “You’re turning purple.”

Ain’res blushed even harder.

…And Theron finally figured it out.  “Oh. Sorry.”  A nervous hand went up to the back of his neck.  His soaked collar had to be pulled away from his skin. “Didn’t mean to … call you out or anything.”

The Chiss vigorously shook his head, his braids making quiet ‘thumps’ against his shoulders.  “I’m – fine.  So –

And suddenly, a very warm puff of air crossed his mouth as Theron impulsively kissed him.

Ain’res’s brain shut down entirely.  It wasn’t unpleasant, like the brainwashing.  It felt pretty amazing…

The kiss had to end sometime – and it did.  Sometime.

And then Ain’res’s heart dropped.  “I can’t.” He might have shut his mouth then, but Ain’res couldn’t stop the feelings from rampaging through his head.  After everything, the mind control, his team --  There was a reason he was alone, and it was because he deserved it. He’d failed.  

Theron watched him, trying to read him, trying to understand what was going on in his head…the master of spies knew his file.  He knew --

“I owe it to them to serve the Empire.”  

It was the slightest motion on Theron’s face, but it was enough.  “You really want to go back to the Sith Empire?”

Ain’res glared.  “I serve the people of the Empire.  Not the Sith.  You know that.”

“You can do that here with the Alliance, just as I serve the Republic… at least her ideals, anyway.” Theron cleared his throat.  “I’m probably not the guy who should be encouraging others to defect, given recent history.”

Ain’res had to laugh at that.  Then, the shame.  The urge to shake himself… “But I would harm the Republic to save the people of the Empire,” Ain’res cut right to the heart of this matter.  “We… friends.  All we are. All we can be.”

Because you wouldn’t forgive me.

Although his hair was darker from being wet due to the snow, Theron’s silver streaks at his temples still reflected the hazy light of the  sun as he shifted to sit up.  “Not … necessarily true.”

“Are you mad?” The words flew out of Ain’res.

Theron stifled a weak laugh. “No… it’s just… how do I put it?” Theron sighed.  “...it’s one thing to be alone in the galaxy, like I am.  It’s another thing to be lonely.”  He tilted his head toward the other agent.  “Not sure which one you are.  But now that a planet-eating emperor is gone and an unstoppable space fleet is no longer a threat to anyone… the galaxy might start to calm down.  It’s changing, almost as fast as Odessen, according to Dr. Oggurobb…”

Ain’res understood what he was getting at….

And he didn’t want to deal with those feelings right now.  

“…I need to prep my shuttle for departure.”   But before he could run off and abandon Theron entirely, Ain’res felt the urge and gave into it: “thank you for your time,” he said in a rush.

He was so bad at this.

~~

Been awhile since Dromund Kaas.

Been awhile since this bed. He was glad he had done the laundry before he left.  Fresh sheets always made sleep easier… though not always possible.

Ain’res hand tangled in his hair.  He felt the aurebesh letters on the rings slide by.  He explored them, as if he’d never touched them before.

Ain’ress knew the names; they were carved into his heart.  

Are you alone?  Or lonely?

On a not-so-good night – or a night where a mission was keeping him awake, Ain’res constantly toyed with the rings until they slid down the strands.  One of his nervous habits was to bite down on the braid, and sometimes, he’d knock a tooth against the rings.  As his jaw sprang back open, his first thought was to the rings…not to his own teeth.  

His friends…his partner…his team…  he’d lost them.  They weren’t here to proclaim him blameless for their deaths.  No, their names were engraved on the rings to remind him --

…He needed to be reminded that he was alone, and he thought he deserved it…

And with that came the loneliness.

Are you like Csilla? Pretty, dangerous, and always cold?

Ain’res watched the shadows of traffic on Dromund Kaas play across his bedroom ceiling.  Rain, as usual.  

No snow.  No magic.  No Theron. All these things melted away when just enough time had passed.  

But the memories were already lingering far longer than his normal mental discipline permitted.  

…or can you be like Odessen?  Pretty, dangerous… and ever-changing?

Ain’res let himself remember the cold and the hot contrast that had lingered on his mouth for glorious moments…

Can you change…?

Live a little longer than you want…?

Ain’res surprised himself that night.

For the first time since he could remember…maybe before the brainwashing? … he dreamed.

There was a message on his datapad from Theron the next morning.

Ain’res answered it.

~~

A/N:  To dream for a former Cipher is quite a hopeful sign.  How he answers -- that’s up to you.  Happy Holidays