#cip'rys | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ainyan · 2 years ago

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Flirting

“You know, before we head off of Coruscant, maybe you should go see a doctor.” Ciprys ignored Risha for a moment, flicking switches and toggling buttons as she ran through the pre-flight check. The smuggler girl crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently while she waited for the Captain to finish.

Finally, Ciprys sighed and leaned back in the captain’s chair. “Alright. I’ll bite. Why do I need to see a doctor?”

The smuggler stared at her boss. “Because that spacer was absolutely delicious, and you didn’t even bother to laugh him off. Make plans for later. Tell me you’d meet me back here. I’ve never seen you turn down a willing man before - not like that, not without even so much as a flirt.”

The Chiss looked annoyed as she gazed at the galaxy map, studying the systems as if trying to decide where they were headed next. “So I wasn’t down for a tumble, so what? I don’t sleep with every man I see, you know.”

“Damn near,” Risha muttered, and held up her hand as Ciprys swung around in her chair, scarlet eyes hot. “I’m not insulting you, I’m worried. You haven’t been yourself since everything went down on Yavin. I know there’s some big bad shit out there…”

Snarling softly, Ciprys sprang from her chair, fingers caressing her blaster as she paced across the cockpit. “Do you? Do you even understand what happened? The Sith Emperor is out there somewhere, trying to come back. And while I’m not inclined to take anything a Sith says at face value, Darth Marr’s running scared of his old boss, and that’s got me scared. The head of the Dark Council isn’t exactly a coward.”

Risha took a deep breath as her captain stalked in ragged circles. “I get that, but things weren’t exactly cloud nine before, and that didn’t stop you from taking your fun as you found it. I’m just saying, Cip,” she added cajolingly, “I’m worried for you. About you. You’re damn near the only family I got in this galaxy; I don’t wanna see anything happen to you.”

The fight drained from the Chiss, her eyes closing as she drew her hand from her blaster, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Damn it, Risha. I’m fine,” she sighed, lowering her hand and opening her eyes to gaze at the other smuggler. “I just - between this whole Revan and Emperor thing, and everything else on our plate, I’ve had little interest in bedsports.”

Risha shook her head. “And of course, it has nothing to do with what else happened on Yavin, right?”

Immediately, the shutters dropped, Ciprys’s expression closing to wooden blankness. “Nothing else of import happened on Yavin,” she replied blandly. “Still no word from Command on that next shipment we’re supposed to be taking for them; I’m going to my quarters. Message me when we get our manifest.”

Risha watched Ciprys go, sighing, and studied the galaxy map, wondering where their next adventure would lead them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The door slid shut behind Ciprys and she engaged the locks, rubbing her forehead as she sighed. “Damn it, Risha,” she muttered as she shrugged out of her jacket, tossing the leather coat carelessly on her bed. She began to unbuckle her holster, then paused, eyes narrowing. “Oh for the love of - how the hell did you get onto my ship?”

“Will you really insult me by asking that?” Stretched out in her desk chair, Theron Shan raised one eyebrow at the Chiss. “I mean, you’ve got great security, but we’re talking me here. C’mon Ciprys,” he added in a wheedling tone, “don’t tell me you’re not happy to see me.”

She didn’t want to be. The spy who sat before her with that charming smile and those sly hazel eyes was a complication she neither needed nor wanted in her life. Risha might make light of her habits, but her lightskirt reputation had been quite calculated. “Yeah, sure, Shan, I’m always happy to see a handsome face.” Her smile was coy as she swept past him, ruffling a hand over his hair. “Just stop by for a reprise of our farewells on Yavin? I might have time to oblige.”

He reached up to snag her wrist, holding her fast, and felt her tension immediately ratchet up. “I didn’t say that,” he replied mildly, watching her as she stared at the far wall. “I saw you were on planet and thought we could talk.”

“I already told you once,” she replied shortly, “I’m not interested in being an SIS mole. I have a lot of good, valuable clients that might be put off by the idea. If you want to tangle up my sheets, Shan, let’s go. Otherwise, I’ve got stuff to do before the manifest comes in.”

He didn’t release her wrist, even though she tugged experimentally, testing his grip. “Almost perfect. I’d have bought it on Rishi - I did buy it on Rishi,” he corrected, feeling her stiffen. “But you slipped up on Yavin. You almost had me completely fooled.”

When she yanked her wrist again, he let her go and she jerked backwards, rubbing at her hand. “What you see is what you get, Shan. I’m about as deep as Corso.”

The spy steepled his fingers before him as he met her bland scarlet gaze. “Having looked into your white knight, I’m pretty sure that’s far more insulting to you than to him,” he replied, and she bit back a bark of laughter. “You are definitely more than you appear,” he added, more soberly, and her mirth fled. “I get why you pretend otherwise - but you can’t fool me again, Ciprys. No backwater bumpkin is going to manipulate the head of the Dark Council with such precision.”

She turned away from him, still rubbing her wrist. “Everyone has moments, Shan,” she muttered. “Mine are few and far between. I’m exactly as I appear. A hotshot smuggler from beyond the Outer Rim whose big goal is to get rich and retire young, preferably with a bevy of pretty young men. And if you’re looking to be one of those,” she shot over her shoulder, “alienating me ain’t gonna get you there.”

“Bullshit,” he countered pleasantly, and her eyes went hot. “I’ve seen your accounts - all of them,” he added before she could retort. “I know your contacts. You could retire today and never lift another finger for the rest of your life and never want for anything - even with the funds you sink into some schools out in the Outer Rim.” She could hear the puzzlement in his voice.

Ciprys grunted. “Kids gotta learn, and they don’t always have options out in the back of beyond. What does the SIS care what I do with my money?” He noticed, curiously, that she didn’t seem particularly upset by the intrusion into her privacy - or even surprised.

Theron closed his eyes, sighing. “For the SIS, they care because you’re Chiss,” he replied flatly. “Any Chiss in Republic space is suspect - don’t tell me you didn’t know that. For me, I just want to know you better.”

She made a disgruntled noise. “Look, Shan,” she snapped, whirling around and stabbing a finger towards his chest, “you and me, we’re from different galaxies, but we got a few things in common. One of those things is that we’re both players, not stayers. We had fun - and it was some great fun - but that’s all it was.”

His hazel eyes held a glint that she found disconcerting. “Then it shouldn’t be any problem for you to join me for a caf while you wait on your manifest,” he replied with a slow smile. “Just between friends. Nothing to worry about.”

“Theron Shan, I am absolutely certain that that phrase and you shouldn’t be within shouting distance of each other,” came the captain’s exasperated retort. His grin only increased her irritation - and her wariness. “Seriously? You want to have a cup of caf? You don’t have to seduce me, spyboy. You already did that,” she added dryly.

Theron watched her with infuriating patience. “Caf and conversation. That’s all I want.”

Ciprys was at a loss. She was no stranger to clingy males; the cost of playing around meant that occasionally one ran across a man who didn’t understand the concept of a one-night stand. But she knew she hadn’t misread the spy - he was as likely as she to have ‘one in every port’ as the old saw went.

So why the hell was he so insistent on dragging this out? Some SIS operation? Concern from up top about the carte blanche they’d given her after Yavin?

No, too heavy handed.

Did he really just want caf? “Fine,” she finally replied shortly, eyes narrowing at the triumphant glint in his gaze. “Some caf, some conversation. We can just nip into the kitchen…”

“Nope. Know a nice little place in the Galactic Market sector. Quiet, out of the way, most of the clientele are people like you and me.”

She blinked. “You want to go out?” she asked flatly, then, “and there is no you and me. There is no one like you and me, because you and me are antithetical to each other.”

Theron’s lips quirked. “Do you even know what it sounds like when you say words like ‘antithetical’ in that country bumpkin’s voice? Is it just me that breaks your cover, or does it crack every time you get frustrated?” Before she could reply, he shook his head. “No, I’ve seen you stay perfect under pressure. I’m flattered.”

The heat in her eyes would have seared a lesser man to cinders. “You’re about to be flattened,” she growled, and when he grinned, she snapped her teeth at him. “By the Flame, Theron Shan, what the hell is your malfunction? I know I’m good, but I’m not that damn good.” She paused. “Well, okay, I am that damn good.” She caught sight of the laughter in his eyes. “Disagree?”

Theron spread his hands. “How about that caf?” he deflected, levering himself up from the chair and coming to his feet. “Ciprys,” he added softly as she hesitated, “I really just want to talk. No grand conspiracies here. No convoluted plans. I’m not trying to recruit you, and I know you’re loyal to us. I just want to talk to you - as friends.”

Friends. What a strange concept. Ciprys sighed, rubbing her neck. “Fine,” she muttered. “Fine, you win, Shan. Let’s go get some caf.” She snagged her jacket from the bed. “Dunno what you expect me to tell you that you don’t already know.”

“Well,” he replied as he followed her out of her cabin, past the gaping Risha and spluttering Corso, “for one thing, what’s the story behind the akk dog?”

Ciprys glanced towards where the spiky crimson creature lay beneath the table, watching her with huge dark eyes. “What, Mongo? Some idiot Houk was teasing him as a puppy. Put a stop to it and he wouldn’t stop following me. I’ll be back,” she told Risha, biting back a grin at the smuggler’s dumbfounded expression. “Patch that manifest through as soon as you get it.”

Brown eyes blinked rapidly. “I - uh - yes… yes, captain,” she sputtered. “Captain, I…”

Ciprys lifted a hand, waving at her crew as the door cycled open and she led Theron from the freighter.

As the door slid shut behind her, Risha turned to stare at Corso and Akavi, who had come out at the commotion and was peering curiously after her boss. “Who the hell was that? What the hell was that?”

The Zabraki Mandalorian rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “That was Shan,” she pointed out. “The one she worked with on Rishi and Yavin. I did not know he was on board.”

“Neither did I,” Corso and Risha replied together, exchanging a bewildered glance. The Mantellian sighed and scrubbed at his jaw. “Knew she could smuggle damn near anything,” he muttered, then turned and walked away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was not, thankfully, the cantina where Ciprys had met Darmus Pollus at. Even now, a year later, the smuggler still felt the sting of embarrassment whenever she considered the traitor and how easily he’d played her.

No, Theron had chosen an actual caf shop, small and out of the way, occupied by men and women whose professions made them more frequent visitors to Coruscant rather than actual citizens. Some of them were legitimate. Some, Ciprys recognized from past business dealings.

I’ll be damned. There is a place for people like him and me. The captain didn’t know whether to be amused or disconcerted. The spy took a table along the wall, tugging out a chair for her before sliding into the one across. She slipped into the seat, stretching her legs out and leaning back as he spoke to the server. At his glance, she nodded, and he ordered for both of them, then leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table as they were left alone. “Still think we’re antithetical?”

She gave him a cool red stare. “You’re a lawman,” she pointed out, and at his look of distaste, laughed. “Spyboy, agent, whatever you call it, you work for the government, and you find bad guys and deal with ‘em. Me? I’m one of those bad guys, Shan. Shouldn’t you be trying to lock me away?”

He spread his hands. “Wouldn’t do any good. Immune to prosecution, remember? Anywhere you could get into trouble, I’d have no jurisdiction. Anyway,” he added thoughtfully, gaze tracking up towards the ceiling, “you’re not really bad. Not like the kind of people I deal with. You’re a Republic loyalist.”

Ciprys frowned, tracing her fingertip over the table as she gazed at its smudged surface. “I’m not sure how I feel about not being bad,” she muttered. “Protestations aside,” and his grin echoed hers, light and mocking, “I’m not exactly an upstanding citizen and I like it that way.”

“Don’t worry,” Theron soothed, “you’ll always be my favorite criminal.” At her hot-eyed glare, he grinned unrepentantly, then straightened as the server returned with their orders. Closing his fingers around his mug, he canted his head to one side. “So, you rescued an akk dog from a Houk and named it Mongo. Any other pets?”

She lifted her mug, inhaling the rich scent of caf as she studied him, considering her answers. “Quite a few, actually, although Mongo’s my only big one, and the only one that’s really permanent.” She shrugged, and he was amused to see a faint flush turn her turquoise skin purple. “I, uh… rehabilitate small animals I… rescue… from abusive owners. Once they’re better, I send ‘em on to people who can get ‘em back where they belong.”

“Schools in the Outer Rim. Animal rehabilitation. Not exactly the hobbies of a master criminal,” the spy pointed out gently, and bit back his grin at her glare. “You know, I’ve heard you laugh. I’ve seen you smile. I know you have a wicked sense of humor - what is it about me that brings out so much anger?”

The question gave her pause, and she frowned, lifting her mug to sip as she bit back her instinctive retort and instead considered the question carefully. “I’m not angry,” she finally replied. “I’m… confused. I just can’t pin you down, Shan. You’re a Republic spy, son of some famous Jedi, some big shot now in the SIS. You probably had the best schools, lived the best life. Couldn’t follow in mom’s footsteps, but you made somethin’ of yourself. Why you slummin’ it with some alien from beyond the back of beyond with no past, no future, nothin’ to her but a ship and a rap sheet a kilometer long?”

His face closed up at the mention of his mother. “My childhood wasn’t what you’d expect,” he finally replied, his voice dropping low, below the general level of conversation. Leaning forward, he cupped his hands around his mug. “Let’s just say, it wasn’t typical, and it wasn’t grand. But I learned a lot, about myself and the galaxy and the people who live here, and that’s why I became a spy.” He tapped his fingers along the curving walls of the mug, then shrugged. “And I don’t see this as slumming it. I know nothing about your past - whatever you were before you appeared in Republic space eight years ago, you hid it damn well,” and he didn’t miss the flash of relief in her eyes, “but what you’ve been since then? You’re not a common criminal, Ciprys, and you’re not just ‘some alien from beyond’, either. You’ve done things other smugglers only dream of, and you barely broke a sweat.”

“Yeah, well, I am pretty great, but still.” She smirked at him, a brief flash before she sobered once more. “I dunno what game you’re playin’, Shan, but I gotta warn you - I seem the affable type, and I’m pretty easy goin’ most of the time - but you cross me,” and her eyes hardened, her expression sending a chill down Theron’s spine, “you’ll find I don’t shake easy. You wanna be friends? I ain’t gonna say no.” She sighed, shoulders slumping. “Wouldn’t say no even if you were another nobody like me,” she finally admitted. “The connections don’t hurt, but…”

“But?” he asked, when she trailed off into silence.

She sighed again. “Sometimes I’m just a bit too contrary even for myself. I have a feelin’ I’d enjoy your company, if I’d stop bein’ a bitch about it.” She looked up into his smug grin and wrinkled her nose. “Still don’t get what you’re after. But I guess someone like me shouldn’t look a gift friend in the mouth.”

Theron traced the rim of his mug. “‘Someone like you’? You mean, a highly skilled pilot with copious contacts among both the elite of the underworld and the higher echelons of the Republic - and even some Imperial connections, with carte blanche to act in Republic space.” His hazel eyes rose to meet hers and she stilled, caught by the expression on his face. “‘Someone like you’? A beautiful woman, a passionate lover, exciting in bed and out? Yeah, I can’t imagine why I’d want to spend time with you, Ciprys. Can’t imagine it at all.”

She leaned back in her chair, a deliberately distancing move, and smirked. “Well, when you put it that way, I can’t blame you for stalkin’ me. I am pretty awesome in all regards.”

The spy leaned back as well, stretching long legs before him as he tapped lightly against the handle of his mug. “You jest, but I can’t disagree. You don’t like compliments, do you?”

Ciprys pursed her lips. “I don’t trust a compliment that doesn’t come with a string attached,” she corrected finally, shrugging. “I’m used to everyone wanting something from me. Just because I can’t see your angle yet doesn’t mean I don’t know you’re after something as well.”

The irritation that flashed across his face surprised her. So did the flash of shame she felt. “Are you sure of that?” he asked, his tone measured, and she felt the weight of a crossroads upon her shoulders.

Meeting his dark eyes, she was silent for a moment, then lowered her own gaze, her shoulders rounding. “It would make it easier if I was,” she muttered, and felt the tension between them lessen. “Then I’d understand a bit more what’s going on.”

He sighed. “Does it help if I tell you I’m just as confused as you?” When she glanced up, shocked, he gave her a twisted smile. “Right now, I’m cruising on instinct. I want to know you better, so that’s what I’m doing. I can’t tell you why, though.”

She let out a puff of breath. “Same goes,” she admitted, shrugging. “I… might have been thinking about you lately. A little bit,” she added, sneering at his grin. “Now and then, when I’m especially bored.”

Theron tapped his empty mug. “Then let’s just take it as it goes, Ciprys. See where it goes. Neither of us has ever been big on planning. Why start now?”

Huffing out another breath, Ciprys finally shrugged. “Fair enough.” She smirked at him. “If nothing else, history says it should be an exciting ride.”

Hazel eyes glinted as he stood, holding out a hand to her. “Oh, I can guarantee that,” he murmured, and she grinned as she slid her fingers into his, letting him help her to her feet. “In fact,” he added, tugging her forward until her toes brushed his, “we could head back to your ship…”

Her communicator sounded, and he cut off as she reached into her pocket with the hand not held in his, pulling it out and toggling it on. “Talk to me, Risha,” the captain replied, her eyes not on the holo of her friend, but on Theron’s eyes.

“Hey Captain, manifest just came in. We’re all loaded up and ready to go when you are. Is that a problem?”

Ciprys realized she was scowling and carefully smoothed her expression. “No, of course not. I’ll be back shortly; have the engines warmed up and prep the hyperdrive. We’ll take off as soon as I’m on board.” When Risha acknowledged her orders, she toggled the com off, pocketing it. “Theron, I -”

“Have a job to do.” His thumb slid over her knuckles, then he dropped her hand, shoving his own in his pockets. “I get it, believe me. There’ll be other times, other places. I can promise that.”

Ciprys hesitated, then went up on tiptoe to press a light kiss to his lips. She felt him stiffen against her for a split second before he leaned in, returning it. “I’ll hold you to it, spyboy.”

“Fly safe, flygirl,” the spy murmured, and clenched his fists to keep himself from reaching up to trace the smile that curved her lips. “See you around, Ciprys.”

“See ya, Shan.”

He watched her walk off, hands still shoved into his pockets. He still had no idea what the hell was going on - but he had a feeling he would enjoy finding out. Exhaling, he tossed the credits for their caf on the table and strode out after her.

She wasn’t the only one with a job to do.

#swtor #swtor fanfics #cip'rys #theron shan #f!smuggler x theron shan #risha drayen #corso riggs

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ainyan · 2 years ago

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Back to Work

Three months. It had been three months. Three months, sixteen days, ten hours since Satele Shan and Risha Drayen had come to tell him that Darth Marr’s flagship had been destroyed in the first meeting with the Eternal Empire. Since that day, Arcann’s forces had rained fire and destruction upon both the Republic and the Sith Empire.

At first, Theron had been in shock - unable to do anything even as everything crumbled around them. Finally, however, he’d come out of his fugue and tried to pick up the pieces - not only of his own life, but of the shattered galaxy he found himself in. He had tried to bury himself in his work, but Saresh had pushed back, refusing to rescind his ‘administrative leave’.

Just today, he’d nearly gotten himself tossed out on his ear - and likely blacklisted - when she’d made a cutting remark that had laid blame on his shoulders for the initial debacle in Wild Space, and only Satele’s quick intervention had spared him. The Jedi Grandmaster spirited him away before he was able to gain control of his tongue long enough to tell the Supreme Chancellor exactly what he thought of her - or to pull the blaster hanging at his side.

As they passed by the Supreme Commander’s office, a hand shot out and caught Theron’s wrist, dragging him and Satele into the room. The door slid shut behind them as Theron grappled belatedly at his blaster, staring wildly at their assailant. Marcus Trant raised an eyebrow. “Gonna shoot me, Agent Shan?” In the background, Jace Malcom looked mildly surprised at his son’s disheveled appearance.

“Might make me feel better,” Theron replied, unamused, but he dropped his hand away from his blaster and tugged his wrist free of Trant’s grasp. “Should you be talking to me? The Supreme Chancellor has made her position on my position in the SIS abundantly clear.”

The SIS Director gave Theron a patient look. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, but if it makes you feel better, Saresh and I have been arguing about your displacement since Ziost, and we will continue to do so. Grounding one of my top agents at a time like this is tantamount to suicide.” He sighed. “I can’t override her - not exactly, but I can tell you that Zarek Antilles is still working for us. Maybe he’ll be able to help until I can get you back in the system.”

Theron froze, staring at his old boss. “That’s… good to know. At least the SIS is in good hands until Saresh comes to her senses.”

Jace gave Marcus a suspicious look, but the SIS director never even glanced in his direction. His dark eyes rested on his agent, a faint smile hovering about his lips. “I heard you invested in a place on Rishi after you were there chasing traitors,” he remarked. “Maybe you should go there, lay low for a little bit - long enough for Saresh to forget about you. A few more weeks of this,” and he gestured skyward, indicating the Eternal Empire ships in aggressive orbit about the planet, “and she’s sure to understand the value of reinstating you.”

Trant hadn’t meant to reopen old wounds. He certainly hadn’t meant to rip Theron’s heart from his chest, but the spy closed his eyes against the unexpected stab of pain in his belly, pressing his hand to his stomach as he bent over from the shock.

Rishi.

Theron stared down into Cip'rys’s glowing scarlet eyes, mirroring the wicked smile that danced within them. “Working with you has made all of this madness worthwhile,” he’d murmured.

Her response came not in words, but in the bright grin she flashed him, even as she reached up to lock her arms around his neck, dragging him down for a hard, hungry kiss. Her mouth was warm and firm against his and she tasted of whiskey and spice and the hard candies he knew she kept in one pocket - just to his taste. He’d never felt such a powerful urge to just take before.

It had been she who had pulled back, her breath ragged, her cheeks flushed. “The feeling’s mutual.” He barely resisted pulling her back in. He’d only wanted the kiss. Now he wanted so much more. But the fleet was waiting, and there was no time to spare. Not now. But soon… soon.

Stepping back, he dusted his hands together to keep them from snatching her against him. “Glad we’re on the same page,” he grinned, trying to hide his need behind a joke. From the glint in her eyes, he had a feeling they were more in sync than he’d thought, and he eased back another step. “Come on. Let’s go see what Yavin has in store for us.”

“Theron?” It was Jace, his eyes concerned as he reached out to steady his son. At his side, Satele watched him, her angular blue eyes filled with sympathy - she, at least, understood. She could feel it.

The Director knew too; Theron was unsurprised. No doubt both he and the smuggler had been closely watched, and they hadn’t exactly been discreet these past several months. For once, Theron saw something human in Marcus Trant - a compassion he’d never expected. “I wasn’t thinking. If Rishi won’t do, I’m sure I can lend you an unused safehouse somewhere…”

The spy shook his head, straightening up and patting his father’s arm awkwardly as the giant released him. “No. No, Rishi is fine. I’ve got the house set up with all my creature comforts; it would be a shame to let it go to waste. Better than brooding here on Coruscant.” Where the ghost of his lost lover haunted his apartment. “Give Zarek my best, Director.”

The three watched as he turned and walked out, his gait a little unsteady, his shoulders hunched. “I missed something,” Jace remarked as he watched his son leave with worried eyes.

“Probably,” Trant replied mildly, without censure. “I’m sure the Grandmaster can explain. I need to go make sure everything is in place. Thanks for letting me use your office, Jace.”

The Supreme Commander waved his friend off, his attention already centered on the tall, slim woman he’d once loved enough to conceive a child with. “What have I missed?” he asked the Jedi as he settled down in one of the office chairs, careful not to put too much weight on it.

Satele sighed, rubbing her forehead. “You missed your son sliding down that slippery slope into love, Jace,” she replied, and he gaped at her. “Do you pay any attention to things outside of the military these days? It hasn’t exactly been a secret that Theron Shan had been spending time with the infamous smuggler Cip’rys.”

Malcom blanched. “I hadn’t heard. Not exactly the kind of gossip that reaches my ears these days,” he admitted. “But things have been screwed up since Ziost - since Yavin, really,” he sighed. “She worked with him there, didn’t she?”

“And on Rishi,” Satele murmured, staring at the door through which her son had so recently exited. “I believe this all began there. He’s been a shadow of himself since word came. Arcann broadcasting about executing her hasn’t helped,” she added dourly, “and Saresh hasn’t exactly been kind. She all but accused him of being responsible for all of this.”

Jace closed his eyes. “She’s a menace, Satele,” he growled, his voice lowered to prevent anyone outside the room from hearing. “A bloodthirsty warmonger who is more interested in power than in the survival of the Republic or her people.”

The Grandmaster sighed. “I know. But she’s also the duly elected Supreme Chancellor. There’s nothing we can do until her term comes up. And even then… she’s incredibly popular, Jace. To the average citizen, she gives them exactly what they want - a fight against the tyranny and oppression of the Sith.” She chafed her hands together, turning back to the leader of the Republic’s armed forces. “I have a feeling we won’t be done with her for a while.”

Jace gazed into her face. “Is that a feeling, or a feeling?” he asked, emphasizing the repetition of the word.

Satele grimaced. “I’d love to say the latter, but right now, I think it’s just my own anxiety over this invasion and how she’s handling it - and how she’s handling Theron,” she admitted in a low voice.

Jace studied his one-time lover and shook his head. “I thought you Jedi weren’t supposed to form attachments.” At her sour look, he held up his hands. “Don’t get mad at me. I care for the boy, too. We made a good one, Satele, one that even a Jedi can be proud of.”

Her expression softened as she gazed towards the door. “Yes,” she murmured. “He is definitely a good one. Let us hope that these latest events do nothing to change that.” Turning back to her ex-lover, she frowned at him. “Keep an eye on him, Jace. Don’t let him stray too far into the dark. I have a feeling that this is only the beginning of his trials.”

The big man raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement of the impossibility of the request, but spread his hands. “I’ll do my best, Satele,” he rumbled.

“Thank you,” she sighed, before offering him a distracted bow and turning, walking swiftly from his office.

He remained standing behind his desk, frowning thoughtfully after her.

It was dusty, and empty of anything resembling food, but it was livable, and he could make it more so. He’d bought the place on a whim after the operation on Rishi, and hadn’t given it more than an occasional thought since then. He’d intended it to be a hideaway, somewhere off the grid and off the books that he and Ciprys could disappear for weeks on end. Nothing to occupy them but each other…

Recognizing the danger of the impending cloud of grief, he gritted his teeth and palmed on the lights, studying the cloth covered furniture scattered about the room. Months of accumulated grime, damage from the local rodents and insects, some mild mildew… nothing he couldn’t handle. And at least cleaning it would keep him too preoccupied to think.

Think about…

Gritting his teeth, he shoved the past aside and tugged off his jacket and gloves. A quick hunt found his stash of cleaning supplies. He grimaced at them, then at the room, then sighed, slipped on the protective gloves, and got to work.

Little more than an hour later, and the place was fit for habitation. With the dust chased away, the mildew scoured, and the damage from the tiny invaders cleaned and patched, Theron was able to stock the cooler and pantry with the food he’d brought. In the bedroom, he stowed away his gear, then grabbed the compact bag that contained his special kit.

The small office held a secret, one he doubted even Trant was aware of. Oh, the director no doubt had suspicions - but the spy doubted even his boss knew exactly how to access the old smuggling holdout buried beneath the floor. Scans of the room would turn up no anomalies; like many smuggling compartments in freighters, the walls were lined with sheets of metal designed to break up and refract scan pings, showing up as solid spaces rather than holes. Add in the best locking mechanisms he could get his hands on and added cybersecurity built by a master, and no one was getting into his hideaway he didn’t want there.

Clearing his way through the passcodes and biometrics, Theron squeezed through the narrow opening that appeared in his floor and down into the sparsely appointed cavern of computerized delights that awaited him below. He ran his hands across the consoles and monitors he’d installed months prior, checking for any sign of use or abuse of either the sentient or rodentia kind.

Nothing. As clean and as unused as when he’d last been here. Satisfied, he booted up the system and engaged the redirects and misdirects that would send any incoming and outgoing signals bouncing around between galactic buoys before finding their way to him. It would slow things down considerably - but it would also make him all but impossible to find. When the system login for the Republic SIS finally appeared on the monitor, he hesitated a moment, then tapped in his credentials.

Acknowledged. Welcome, Agent Zarek Antilles.

Satisfied, Theron settled down in his chair and cracked his knuckles. It was time to get back to work.

#swtor #theron shan #cip'rys #mid-KOTET

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ainyan · 2 years ago

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a touch when there is no time left.

for my favorite smuggler XD, please?

Ziost was ashes below them, and behind her stoic mask her heart ached. Pressing her hand against the plasteel window, she gazed down at the dull grey hulk that had once been a vibrant, thriving world. "I can't believe he did it," she mumbled.

"We should go," the woman behind her said, brow furrowed as she gazed at those around them. The entire station was pressed against the windows, staring in shock at the ruin below. "Quickly, before anyone thinks to blame us."

"We done nothin' wrong, Akavi," Cip'rys told her companion dully. "Fact is, we did everythin' we was asked to do."

The Zabraki Mandalorian shook her head. "That may be true, Captain, but I do not think many of these will see it that way once the total cost is reckoned. It's time for ba'slan shev'la."

The Chiss frowned, tearing her eyes from the dead world to glance questioningly at Akavi. "What's that?"

The Mandalorian's smile was brief and humorless. "In common, a strategic disappearance. The kind you are best at. Come, Captain. Let us board ship and make for the fleet. Your friend asked that you meet him there."

Friend. That was a funny word for an SIS agent - but Cip'rys supposed it was true - or true enough. "Yeah. Can't imagine that's gonna be a fun talk." Finally giving into Akavi's prodding, the smuggler slipped through the still-gawking crowd and together the pair made their way for the hanger where her freighter was docked, engines already on-line and warmed up.

There was no one at the com to give them permission to depart, but the blast shield was down and there was nothing to stop them from exiting the bay. They slipped through the shield and broke away from the station. Once they were clear and the hyperdrive computer had spit out the last coordinate, Cip'rys set their heading and they slipped into hyperspace, riding between the dimensions towards the Republic Fleet and their last meeting with Theron Shan.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She watched him muster his strength, and once more her heart ached - and she showed it no more now than she had at Ziost. It was a damn shame that that madwoman Saresh cared more for her bloodthirst than the people she was supposed to lead. Sidelining one of your best people just 'cause they didn't let you micromanage them was foolishness.

Bring him to heel, sure; but don't let him slip through your fingers. Still, perhaps she could make the most of it. "Forget about the SIS. I could use someone like you at my side," she coaxed, though she knew his answer before even gave her that exasperated look.

"Uh-huh," he replied dryly, and she grinned. "I'm sure." They stared at each other across the centimeters between them. "Growing up, I had an idea of who and what I would be. In a lot of ways," he mused, "that didn't happen. But in the ways that matter..."

Cip'rys closed her eyes briefly, memories of the past assailing her briefly. "Yeah," she said, just a bit hoarsely.

He eyed her curiously, but thankfully chose not to press. "What I'm saying is, I belong with the SIS. I'm not throwing in the towel."

She couldn't help but sigh, then gave him a sour look at the sly grin that briefly crossed his face. "Good, save me from my temporary insanity," she muttered. His grin only widened. "Look, it's for the best. Why don't we pay a visit t' the station cantina - for old times' sake."

His eyes lit up and his smile softened as he stepped towards her. "I'll have to take a rain check, but..." As he took her arms in his hands, she reached out and grabbed his jacket, drawing him close. It was a sweet kiss, but there was bitter too; a last kiss, the kind given when there's no more time left, and the end has drawn nigh.

It was a novel experience for Cip'rys, to taste the salt beneath the sweet and realize that she genuinely regretted this parting. As he drew away, she plucked at the lapels of his jacket, then stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself. He gazed down at her, and she could see his own internal battle. Finally, he touched her cheek, a brush of fingers on skin, then backed away. "I might be persuaded, another time."

They knew better. There would not be another time.

He strode past her, and she turned to watch him go. As he neared the doorway, he paused, then glanced over his shoulder. "I should have reached out to you sooner." When she said nothing, he offered a rueful smile. "Whatever's next, whatever insanity comes our way... I won't make that mistake again."

"Right," she said, and he closed his eyes briefly.

"Take care of yourself," he said, and then he was gone.

She lingered long after he'd left, staring at the place where he'd been. Then she shook her head, sighed, and strode out after.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Touching Tenderly Prompts

Thank you for the ask!

#asked and answered #cip'rys #swtor #theron shan #f!smuggler x theron shan

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ainyan · 2 years ago

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Have you told anyone? About what/who you are?

"Have you told anyone? About who you are?"

Cip'rys leaned against the console, gazing out at the starfield streaking past the ship. "Only you," she replied, her voice low. "And maybe I shouldn't've even done that, but you had a point. Probably for th' best."

Risha tapped her nails against her arm, frowning at the Chiss's back. "Will you tell the others?"

The captain shook her head, eyes reflecting off the plasteel viewport, glinting back scarlet. "Ain't no reason to," she replied gruffly, "and better they don't know. What they don't know can't be dragged from 'em later."

The smuggler grimaced. "Thanks, I think," she said dryly, and Cip'rys tossed her a quick grin over her shoulder.

"I wouldn't worry too much. Even if they reported my escape, it's been a long time. I doubt they remember me." The captain's words were not quite as certain as she sounded. "I ain't the only Chiss smuggler that works with th' Republic, I'm just the best."

Risha snorted. "The most humble, too."

Cip'rys chuckled, and the faint tension in the atmosphere dissipated as she turned away from the stars to study the human's face. "What's the point in false humility?" she asked with a cocky grin. "We all know I'm th' best captain, with th' best ship and best crew in th' whole damn galaxy."

The hyperdrive computer chirped and Risha turned, glancing down at it. "Coruscant inbound," she reported, reaching out to pull the lever that would drag them back into normal space within spitting distance of the Republic's capital world. "You sure about this, captain? SIS's been tryin' get their grubby paws on you for years."

The Chiss laughed. "Please. You think I can't handle a simple SIS agent? You watch. I'll have him wrapped around my pinky quicker'n you can say 'spy'."

Risha eyed her thoughtfully. "S'long as that's all he's wrapped around," she muttered. At Cip'rys's inquisitive look, the smuggler smirked. "Do you really wanna get in bed with the SIS?"

That startled a laugh from the Chiss. "Oh, stars no!" she exclaimed. "I might be horny, but I ain't stupid. I'd never let a spy near my bed." She gave a grim chuckle. "At least," she conceded, "not one I knew about."

The other smuggler grimaced, but said nothing more on that subject. "S'long as you think with what's up and not down, I guess we'll be fine."

Cip'rys reached out to briefly touch Risha's arm. "Trust me," she said, and grinned.

Original Ask Meme

Thank you for the ask!

#asked and answered #cip'rys #swtor #risha drayen

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ainyan · 2 years ago

Text

I had a lot of fun thinking of answers for these! Here are the ones that came up so far:

Kali x Leofard

Kali x Aymeric

Kali x Artoirel

Kali x Stephanivien

Kali x Hraesvelgr

Kali x Magnai

Kali x Hien

Cip x Arenvald

Cip'rys x Saganu

Cip'rys x Corso

I'm totally open to more, not only for the ones listed above, but also Szah'li, Kyszarin, and Miurani'kal'istae as well :D

Hell, even for my sassy rogue of a lady Liandyn Rutherford née Trevelyan. Or my smart-ass Savannah Shepard.

Fun ask game idea:

Have your followers send in suggestions for ships for your OC, and you describe how good/bad/amazing/disastrous/hilarious it would end up.

#ask meme #any oc #open possibilities

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ainyan · 2 years ago

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I have a character development question about your Chiss ladies! How do they feel about the Force and its users - the Jedi and the Sith? If they were Force-sensitive, would they choose to train their skills?

So I have five main Chiss ladies - the two you know, and three more I've mentioned.

We'll start with the best. Miurani'kal'istae is, like many Chiss, untrustful of the Force. She's not terribly fond of most Force users and she absolutely hates it when anyone uses the Force on her. The irony is not lost on her that her mother-in-law is the former Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, her best friend/sister is a Sith whose power is constantly growing, she was the vehicle for one of the most powerful Force users ever known for over five years...

And her beloved daughter is shaping up to be a Force user every bit as powerful as her famous Shan ancestors. It's all throwing her for all kinds of loops - but she's managing, with the help of her thankfully Force-null husband.

Cip'rys's relationship with the Force is significantly more complicated and even more confusing than Nikali's. For countless generations her family worked to help smuggle Force-sensitive Chiss children out of the Ascendancy, away from the policy of erasure by any means necessary. She was raised to believe that the Force was simply another trait, like cobalt skin or freckles, and that it was their duty as Cipari to ensure that those unfortunate enough to be born Sensitive had a chance to live their lives.

That policy spelled the downfall of her family and led to the extermination of every last Cipari but herself. So it might be understandable that Cip'rys is horribly conflicted as to whether or not it was the fault of the Force, the Ascendancy, or just sheer bad luck that left her bereft of family and home. So while she doesn't share the general Chiss revulsion against the Force - a part of her feels that the galaxy would be better off if the Force just went away.

The last three are Liandyn, my Chiss Jedi Knight, Kyn'aria, my Chiss Jedi Consular, and Kale'syn, my Chiss Sith Inquisitor. All three of them were given no choice - Liandyn and Kale'syn were taken from the Ascendancy by the Sith and forced to learn the ways of the Force, while Kyn'aria was one of the Chiss children smuggled out of the Ascendancy by Cip'rys's family and given over to a Jedi enclave in the Outer Rim to train.

In the end, it wasn't a matter of if they wanted to train or not - they were all powerful enough that it was train or die. It's fortunate that all three of them found joy in learning the ways of the Force, and revel in their own ways at being powerful Force-users - and powerful forces - in the galaxy.

Curious to know more about the development of one of my OCs? Ask!

Thank you for the ask!

#swtor #chiss #miurani'kal'istae #cip'rys #liandyn #kyn'aria #kale'syn #star wars

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ainyan · 2 years ago

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pet (cip/theron. maybe with some akk puppy goodness? :} )

His hand slid along her skin, tracing across the darker ridges of scars where they criss-crossed her rich turquoise skin. She shivered beneath the caresses, arching into his wandering fingers, and he chuckled. "For someone as slippery as you are," he remarked, "you've sure taken a lot of damage."

"A lot of it's cargo-related," Cip'rys said drowsily as she stared at the arm he had stretched beneath her head and debated the best place to bite down. "Crap bites if you're not careful."

His fingers glided along her spine and over her hip, then traced an imprint along her buttocks. "What kind of cargo bit you here?"

"Not cargo. Pet. Mongo."

His eyes drifted over her body towards the akk dog snoozing in the corner atop his cushion. "Mongo bit you?"

Her tongue flicked out, tasting along his forearm, looking for that perfect spot. "Yeah. Took him a while after I freed him t' get him to trust me. Got a few more nips here and there, but that was the first."

Theron winced. "That had to hurt."

"So'd the Houk's hand, so I cain't blame him for bein' cautious. Anyway, I just figured 'em for love-bites 'cause he didn't know better."

He knew a trap when he heard one - and walked right on in anyway. "Love bites?"

Sure enough, her teeth closed around his arm. He winced, but didn't flinch. After a moment, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head, and she released him.

It was an old game.

"Yeah. You bite 'cause you love," she replied, and rolled over to wind her arm around his neck, drawing him down. "Just like I love you, Theron Shan."

He grinned. "I love you too."

And bit her lip.

It was a very old game.

Want to see a [short short] story from the perspect of one of my main characters (for today: Kali, Cip'rys, and Mnemosyne). Prompt me!

Thank you for the prompt!

#asked and answered #cip'rys #f!smuggler x theron shan #swtor #swtor fanfiction #akk puppy!

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ainyan · 1 year ago

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💕 = What are your muse’s thoughts on parenting and being a parent even if they aren’t one?

Cip'rys stares at you, then throws her head back as her laughter peals out, loud and bright and merry. "C'n you see me as a mama?" she asks breathlessly, wheezing through her laughter. "I'd mess that damn kid up so much. Maybe Theron here'd be a good daddy," she begins to add, only to find herself cut off by an explosive snort from the man at her side.

"Like I know the first damn thing about being a father," he replies, shaking his head. "No, she and I are definitely better off in the 'aunt and uncle' category. Let others have the kids. We'll spoil them outrageously and teach them bad habits, then send them home to mom and dad at the end of the day."

And they both seem more than content with that line of thought.

Curious about my couples? Ask away!

Thank you for the ask!

#asked and answered #cip'rys #f!smuggler x theron shan

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ainyan · 2 years ago

Text

Origin Story

Obligatory Note: The Chiss lore that I use in my SWTOR Fanfics is based off of the lore introduced in SWTOR, the original Thrawn trilogy, Outbound Flight, and the original Star Wars RPG. Although no longer considered canon lore, it suits me to continue to use it even now that much of it has been contradicted. I'll be happy to talk Chiss lore with you all day long, but I'm not likely to change my story to suit the new canon. <3

“So how exactly does a Chiss - ally of the Sith Empire and all that - become a smuggler running supplies for the Republic?” At Cip'rys’s cool scarlet stare, Risha gave a sweet smile. “C’mon, Captain, you’ve got to tell me. I’ve been dying to know.”

The turquoise-skinned alien grunted as she made a minor course adjustment and sent the XS-stock freighter rocketing out of orbit. “I don’t gotta tell you anything, Risha,” she corrected, the faint purr that characterized her voice more pronounced in her irritation.

The human was unphased by her employer’s - her friend’s - ire. They’d been together over a year now, and the partnership had more than proven itself. As far as Risha was concerned, it was time to have some questions answered. “You know all about me,” she pointed out as she leaned back in her chair, kicking long legs before her and smiling winsomely. “You know every detail of my sordid past, but you - you’re a closed book, and an object of even greater mystery than I ever was. I’ve been dying to know your story.”

The smuggler captain was quiet - long enough so that Risha began to feel a slick, nervous sweat slide down her spine. She trusted in her friendship with the Chiss, but she never forgot the Captain’s vindictive side - or the viciousness of her combat skills. And although her weapons were stowed away in her arms locker in her quarters, Risha had seen Cip'rys kill more than her fair share of men with a well-placed blow of her fist.

Finally, Cip'rys rose, moving to the cockpit door. It slid shut beneath her touch, and Risha heard the locks engage. Glowing scarlet eyes flickered around the room, and with growing nervousness, the smuggler girl watched as her captain disabled the com system in the room. “Captain…” she began, then cut off when those alien eyes turned on her.

“You’re right,” Cip'rys said slowly, her voice losing the backwoods drawl Risha was familiar with, becoming more cultured, with the rich, rolling vowels of the Empire instead of the Republic’s staccato syllables. “I do know everything about you. Enough to know that you have a good head - and sense enough not to talk when you shouldn’t. So fair is fair - I’ll tell you. But you won’t tell a soul.” Chill scarlet eyes stared into Risha’s honey-hued gaze.

Wordlessly, Risha nodded, exhaling slowly as Cip'rys settled once more into the captain’s chair, gazing broodingly out into space. There was silence, long and thick and heavy with secrets, then the Captain began to speak. “It starts, I suppose, at the end. The end,” she sighed, “of everything else.”

~*~

She gazed out at the stars, and they gazed back, cold and shining and uncaring. Despite their indifference, however, Chaf’rys’nuru never felt so at home - so comfortable - as she did in the cockpit of her Chiss fighter, manning the silvery teardrop as it streaked through the Chaos, patrolling the Ascendancy’s space and watching for any sign of trouble or intrusion. In general, patrol duty was long and boring; few out there were willing to challenge the might of the Chiss Ascendancy, especially since the Sith Empire had come calling and left as allies, without a single shot fired.

But for Afrysnu, the long, quiet hours gave her time to think, to contemplate, to plan.

And yes, to listen to holonovels - but that would be telling.

It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the companionship of her fellow soldiers, or the joy of a party or a bit of carousing - but she tended towards solitary, like most members of her true Family. Although she bore the Chaf name now as a merit adoptive of the Ruling Family, she would always in her heart be a member of Cipari.

A small Family, their only worth was in their stewardship of Canidar, a small, resource-rich world on the edges of Ascendancy space. They owned the bulk of the land and resource-rights, allowing them to harvest, refine, export, and sell without needing an intermediary. Such rights were usually reserved for the Ruling Families or their offshoots, of which Cipari was neither - but only because other than Canidar, the ancient Family had shown little interest in ruling anything. An idiosyncracy that had raised eyebrows by many of their more ambitious contemporaries over the centuries - but as they provided many highly-sought after materials for Chiss trades, their foibles were accepted with good grace.

Why they chose to stay out of politics was another story, and one that would never see the light of day if the Family had anything to do with it. It was the same reason that at least one Cipari in each generation left the family homestead on Canidar and entered the Chiss Military Academy, to serve with distinction among the Expansionary Defense Force and build ties among the Ruling Families. Before Afrysnu, her uncle - a loosely appropriate term, as the true relationship was significantly more complicated - had entered the Defense Force and currently served at the behest of House Inrokini. She also had two other cousins serving - one in the Diplomatic Corps, and one with Homeworld Security.

Between them, the displaced scions of Cipari watched for two things: Chiss who showed signs of emergent Force sensitivity, and any indication that the Ascendancy had discovered that the trade that was the lifeblood of Cipari was merely a front for their smuggling operation.

In and of itself, smuggling was not particularly anathema to the Chiss, provided that it benefitted the Ascendancy. Even criminals had their place among the Chiss, and their actions were often overlooked as long as they paid their due tribute to keep the Ascendancy running. But there were certain goods which the Ascendancy would never condone trade in: Ascendancy secrets, and Chiss Force users.

Afrysnu didn’t know why the Family had begun smuggling Chiss sensitives from the Ascendancy, sending them to scattered enclaves among the sentients within the galactic Rims to train, ignorant of their heritage. They found no more than two or three every few years; few families greeted the sensitive among them with anything less than revulsion and hatred, and they were usually killed off long before Cipari got word.

But every now and then, blood-bond overcame familial bond and Cipari was able to smuggle free a child with nascent Force powers. In general, those children went to neutral Force enclaves throughout the Outer Rim, where the Chiss were little more than a myth and the Ascendancy never traveled. From there, Cipari had no idea what happened with these Chiss Force-users; better for all involved if they kept their hands clean once the child was free of the Ascendancy.

~*~

“Wait. You’re telling me the Ascendancy kills Chiss children if they’re born Force-sensitive?” Risha’s amber eyes were huge as she stared at the captain.

Cip'rys gazed out at the stars as they streamed by the freighter. “Depends. The wealthiest families have been known to drug their children until they lose their ability to sense the Force, or to undergo surgeries that turn them into nothing more than shadows of what they could have been.” Her scarlet eyes were sad as she stared into space. “You have to understand, the idea of Force users being anathema is hardwired into the very basis of our society - something to do with the Chaos, I believe. No one really knows why any more - only that Force users are unclean, genetic mutations that sully the purity of the Chiss.”

Risha sat back in her chair, gaping. “You’re serious. Wow. No offense, captain, but your people are messed up.”

The captain smiled slightly, a grim cast to the curve of her lips. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” she murmured. “If you think the genocide of force-sensitive children is bad, just wait.”

~*~

The first hint Afrysnu had that something wasn’t quite right was the shadow she tagged on her way back to base. It wasn’t unusual for more than one patrol ship to be returning around the same time, but it was unusual for them to approach so obliquely. She hesitated before pinging their com, her fingers curling into a loose fist, dropping away before she could toggle the channel open. She recognized the ship’s transponder; it was Chaf’ori’nuru’s patrol craft; her ‘cousin’ on the adoptive side. There was no bad blood between them; indeed, he was among her small circle of friends with whom she infrequently spent time and they’d been sharing a bed in those rare moments of downtime for months now. They’d even begun to talk of something more permanent...

Testing, she side-slipped before hitting orbit, spiraling towards the other side of the planet. It wasn’t a usual maneuver, but it wasn’t unheard of if one happened to ping something on the sensors. Forin’s ship kept cover on her, slipping in and out of her sensor shadow, often allowing no more than the faintest hint of its existence. If she hadn’t caught sight of him earlier, she might well have never noticed him following.

A chill flowed down her spine and she dug into her jumpsuit pocket, pulling free a holocommunicator. Unlike her official com, this one was older, practically an antique - meaning its communication protocols were unlikely to be detected. She keyed in a frequency and waited in humming silence as her ship arrowed towards the far side of the planet. Finally, it chirped its connection. “Chaf’rys’nuru-” she began, then found herself cut off.

“- gency protocol in effect. Breach of security has occurred.” Her skin chilled. “One or more operatives have been compromised. The Family is compromised. Repeat. The Family is compromised.”

Her blood congealed. “No. No, no, no,” she moaned, before keying in another frequency. When no one answered, she tried another, then another. After the fifth, she finally connected. “Uncle!”

“Rys, run,” he coughed. “They know - all of it. The Family is gone. Run!” The connection cut off with a finality.

With a vicious yank on the stick, she sent the fighter spiralling up away from the planet’s atmosphere. Immediately, her shadow flashed into the open and her ship’s com signaled. Even as she feinted left, she answered. “Forin, what is the meaning of this?”

“Rys’nuru,” came the chill voice, and she bit back a wince as he deliberately accorded her no Family name, “you are ordered to land and submit yourself to arrest.”

She dodged towards him as he came up beside her, and he side-slipped to avoid her engine wash. “I’ve done nothing for which I should be arrested,” she protested.

He spun beneath her and tried to slip in front of her, but she adroitly avoided him. “You were Cipari. Cipari is no more by edict of the Syndicure. Your Family is already gone, Rys’nuru. There is nothing left for you; submit, and it will be over quickly.” There was a pause, and that cold mask cracked just a bit. “Rysn- Rys,” he corrected, almost too softly to hear. “Don’t make me fire, please. This is hard enough.”

Her response was pithy; she could hear his indrawn breath through the comm. “How could you, Chaf’ori’nuru,” she spat as she spun away from him and began to run through her hyperspace calculations, “after everything? I thought we-” She cut herself off, biting her lip.

“Rysnu, please!” She felt his hesitation as he sighted on her and used the brief moment of indecision to dart out of his line of fire. “I can’t spare you,” he said softly. “Cipari is under extermination edict; your Family was smuggling Force-users, Rysnu.” The disgust in his voice vibrated through the air. “I know you didn’t know, but-”

The final number came up and she punched it in. “Oh no, Forin,” she replied grimly as she rolled away. “I knew.” She could feel his shock vibrate through the comm. “And I’ll tell you, the murder of innocent children is a far worse crime than anything committed by me or by my Family. Cipari will live on in me.”

Even as he fired, she punched the hyperdrive, and the stars leapt towards her as she sped away.

~*~

Risha was silent for a long, humming moment. “Your entire family?” she finally asked, her voice hushed.

Cip'rys gazed out at the darkness around them. “I am the only Cipari still living,” she finally confirmed. “That is the way of the Ascendancy. When a Family commits treason, it is eradicated. There might be a secret child somewhere - but I doubt it. Such things are rarely seen outside of the Ruling Families, and Cipari wouldn’t have risked an association with any other Family.”

The smuggler girl was quiet for a long moment. “I know my father did some pretty terrible things,” and she sniffed as Cip'rys leveled an ironic look on her, “but I can’t even imagine the systematic extermination of an entire family.”

“Down to my baby niece,” Cip'rys murmured, and Risha blanched. “She would have been a year old.” The Chiss drew in a ragged breath. “Objectively, we knew the penalty for our actions - we’d known it for generations. We were guilty of treason; we simply thought it worth the risk. It was abstract to us - surely the Syndicure wouldn’t exterminate an entire family just for a couple of Force-users.” She sighed. “We knew better. History was full of examples otherwise.”

~*~

It had taken three different used starship dealers before she found one willing to trade for her patrol craft. The first two hadn’t recognized the design and had been leery of dealing in anything they didn’t know. The third, though - there had been a knowing look in the Duros’s dark eyes as he looked over the shining silver teardrop that told her that he’d seen Chiss craft before. Given their proximity to Imperial space, she wasn’t terribly surprised.

When he lowballed his offer, testing her, she countered with a smirk and a shrug, turning to walk back to the ship. “Wait!” When she turned back, he frowned at the ship. “You know I can’t off-load it as is - all it would take is one of your people seeing it to have the whole blasted lot of you on my case. Did you even disconnect the transponder..?”

Her scarlet eyes blazed with contempt. “Both of them, and the tracker,” she replied coldly. “I don’t care if you sell it whole or strip it down for parts; it is an intact Teardrop with hyperdrive, shields, and weapons. Its parts are interchangeable with most Imperial fighters and some Republic. I’m looking for a trade - something inconspicuous, an armed freighter, perhaps.”

The Duros rubbed his chin as he studied the Chiss standing hipshot before him, then named another price. Her eyes narrowed, her foot tapped, and he bumped it up slightly. At her nod, he gestured. “Follow me. I think I have what you want.”

It was old, battered, and if it was memorable, it was only because anyone seeing it would wonder exactly what kept it together, much less let it fly. Beneath the grime and disrepair, however, Rysnu could see the additions - the smuggling compartments, the hidden weapons, the top-of-the-line communications array. “What’s the catch?”

The Duros smiled. “You’ll need to pay someone to slice her a new ID. She’s a wanted girl; I was supposed to strip her down, too, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

The Chiss paced, studying the XS Stock Light Freighter. “No, I can see why,” she murmured. “A fair trade. Do you have the name of a good ship-slicer this side of the Rim?”

Holding out his hand, the Duros nodded. “Give me your datapad.” When she handed it over, he keyed in the slicer’s information, encrypting it. “My cousin - he’ll do good work for you, and I’ve added a note to do it at cost. When you are ready to make your mark in the underworld, Captain, come back to me. There are benefits to helping a star smuggler get her start.”

“Captain.” Rysnu tasted the word. “Yes. I will do so.”

The Duros nodded. “What are you called, Captain? Who shall I keep an ear out for?”

Rysnu gazed at the cold, uncaring stars. “Cip… rys,” she decided slowly. “Cip'rys.” Cipari was no more, and Rys was no longer nuru - no longer a lieutenant in the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet. Now she was syn. Anathema.

But the Family lived on in her. From Cipari’rys’syn was born Cip'rys, Chiss Exile.

Republic smuggler.

~*~

The Chiss had fallen silent, and Risha stared at her, heedless of the tears streaking across her cheeks. “So,” the human finally murmured, her voice more throaty than usual, “that’s how you got this ship. A good trade,” she decided. The smuggler girl nibbled at her lip. “You know, I know your Family is gone, Cip, but…”

“But you’re family. I know.” Scarlet eyes tore away from the stars, turning thoughtfully on the girl as she tapped her fingers on the console. The Imperial accents faded once more, leaving the far more familiar drawl that the Chiss had long affected. “We’ve talked about this. You’re my sister now, Risha. You, and Akavi and Bowdar, and Guss, and yes - even Corso,” she added with a wry smirk. “I’ll never stop missing Cipari. I loved them so damn much. But I got you guys, and you know - that’s all I need.”

Risha couldn’t help but smirk. “All evidence to the contrary, given the way you rack them up, Captain.”

The Chiss was startled to a laugh. “What, don’t you know? Just keeping with good smuggler tradition - one in every port. I’m a healthy woman, Risha, with healthy tastes. Don’t worry, I’m not trading in this heap for a house and a legit job any time soon.”

The smuggler girl leaned back in her chair and grinned. “Hardly worried about that, Captain. Just thinking if anyone deserves a little happiness, it’s you.”

Cip'rys rose, reenabling the com and unlocking the door. “You know what makes me happy? Knowing that, despite everything, I still got a family. That’s all I need.”

Risha eyed the Chiss. “As you say, Captain. So, where are we headed, anyway?”

The captain punched in the last coordinate and triggered the hyperdrive, gazing out at the stars as they elongated into lines. “The Fleet. Got a message from some droid, tells me some hotshot in the SIS wants to have a word. Probably another recruitment drive, but hey, I’ll give ‘em a listen. Never hurts to have the SIS owe me a favor or three, you know?”

The smuggler laughed. “Maybe he’s cute,” she teased.

Scarlet eyes glinted merrily. “What, a spy? Last thing I need is some spook getting a little too close and personal in my life. Still, wouldn’t mind a chance to practice a little. Been getting a bit rusty lately.”

Innocently, “Maybe you just need a little lubrication?”

Cip'rys’s laughter filled the cockpit, and lifted Risha’s heart.

#swtor #swtor fanfiction #chiss #old chiss lore #cip'rys #cipari'rys'syn

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