Fic: Conquerors
Title: Conquerors
Author: Elena
Fandom: Star Wars EU - KotOR
Summary: The Exile, playing with Revan's discarded toys. Original post here.
It was pathetically easy to break Malak. A word here, a touch there… In a week, he was telling her all he knew. In another, he was showering her with gifts: a sector command, a battle fleet, funding for R&D… Malak was utterly in love with her, and she found him utterly repellant.
That was probably why she laughed when her aide asked her if she would continue seeing him.
“You must be joking, Bao-Dur,” she said gaily, but the set of his shoulders and the anger in his eyes said he wasn’t, and it amused her. Even when she wasn’t trying, men still fell in love with her.
“He’s wholly Revan’s creature,” she said dismissively. “He can deny it until the end of time, but the big bad Mandalorian killer is nothing more than one of Revan’s devoted pawns.”
Bao-Dur grins at her. “Aren’t we all, General?”
She grins back. “I prefer to think that I’m using her as much as she’s using me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Bao-Dur is tireless in the labs, working day in and day out because his creations are needed at the front. It’s so easy to motivate him; another story about Mandalorian atrocities; alcohol; and inceasingly, her smile.
She smiles at him when she asks for a weapon to take care of the peculiarities in the Malachor system, and she isn’t at all guilty when she asks him to create it for her. Not then, and not when all the Jedi died and he was right there next to her, and not even when he lost his arm dragging her to safety. Not at all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Unlike Malak, Mandalore was far harder to woo. She spent three weeks doing damn near every menial task that needed to be done on Dxun, and even then he didn’t like to talk. Still, he was useful as far as information about Revan was concerned. He was just as loyal as the droids to their former master, but unlike them, he was human. Humans make mistakes. They…slip.
“Your pet zabrak is watching me,” Canderous said dryly one night, squeezed next to her on the bunk. She just grinned.
“Afraid?”
“Of him? Why would I? He’s no warrior, just another Republican soldier with a grudge against my kind.”
“So you think he’s no threat?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just not afraid of him.”
She just laughed, and kissed him gently before sending him to sleep. It was easier to pick his brain afterwards, when his guard was down.
~~~~~~~~~~~```
“Are you going to keep the Mandalorian around, General?” In the ten years since they met, Bao-Dur learned the art of deception well. Now his face is relaxed and he meets her eyes without guile. She knows better, though.
She smiles at him, amused, and says, “Why would I do a thing like that? I’ve told you before, I don’t like playing with someone else’s discarded toys. I have my own to play with.”
“Oh, do you...”
“I told you, Bao-Dur - sometimes, to make a better world, you have to do distasteful things. Do you disbelieve me?”
“Of course not, General.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Malachor V was bad, bad all around. They’d been scattered across the planet when they crashed, and she had to go kill Kreia by herself, and hope that Bao-Dur could hold everything together while she was gone. She missed him, if only for the fact that impossible situations were easier to deal with when you had a wise-cracking mechanic around.
It took her 36 hours to hack her way through the legions of kids Kreia had trained, and then there was Sion. That really sucked. Battling Kreia was no cake-walk, either, but Sion…
She had felt bad for him. He’d been used badly, and it surprised her that Kreia would use her pawns so badly.
Maybe it shouldn’t, though.
Afterwards, when the Hawk rescued her from the wreckage, she found it was worse than she feared. Atton and the Disciple dead in some weird fight over her, Mira probably murdered by Hanharr, Visas dying in the medbay…
Bao-Dur was the least injured, for some reason, but that wasn’t saying much. It was a miracle he’d had gotten the ship up and running, seeing as he had a leg broken in three places and his arm had been destroyed again.
He was in the medbay with Visas, concentrating on holding her internal organs together long enough to let the kolto do its’ work, and he was so deep in a trance he didn’t even flinch when she put a hand on his shoulder.
“Leave it,” she said firmly. “Just let her die. She isn’t coming back from this, and no amount of healing will change that.”
He just looked up at her, and without a word stopped the healing. Visas screamed for a while, begging for help, but soon it was over. All that was left to do was burning the body and bringing the ashes back to poor, dead Katarr.
~~~~~~~~~~``
“So what do we do now?” He sounds lonely and aimless, and she remembers a time when Bao-Dur was capable enough to survive on his own.
That was a very long time ago.
“What we always do, Lieutenant. Try to make the world a better place. Kill people.”
Author: Elena
Fandom: Star Wars EU - KotOR
Summary: The Exile, playing with Revan's discarded toys. Original post here.
It was pathetically easy to break Malak. A word here, a touch there… In a week, he was telling her all he knew. In another, he was showering her with gifts: a sector command, a battle fleet, funding for R&D… Malak was utterly in love with her, and she found him utterly repellant.
That was probably why she laughed when her aide asked her if she would continue seeing him.
“You must be joking, Bao-Dur,” she said gaily, but the set of his shoulders and the anger in his eyes said he wasn’t, and it amused her. Even when she wasn’t trying, men still fell in love with her.
“He’s wholly Revan’s creature,” she said dismissively. “He can deny it until the end of time, but the big bad Mandalorian killer is nothing more than one of Revan’s devoted pawns.”
Bao-Dur grins at her. “Aren’t we all, General?”
She grins back. “I prefer to think that I’m using her as much as she’s using me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Bao-Dur is tireless in the labs, working day in and day out because his creations are needed at the front. It’s so easy to motivate him; another story about Mandalorian atrocities; alcohol; and inceasingly, her smile.
She smiles at him when she asks for a weapon to take care of the peculiarities in the Malachor system, and she isn’t at all guilty when she asks him to create it for her. Not then, and not when all the Jedi died and he was right there next to her, and not even when he lost his arm dragging her to safety. Not at all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
Unlike Malak, Mandalore was far harder to woo. She spent three weeks doing damn near every menial task that needed to be done on Dxun, and even then he didn’t like to talk. Still, he was useful as far as information about Revan was concerned. He was just as loyal as the droids to their former master, but unlike them, he was human. Humans make mistakes. They…slip.
“Your pet zabrak is watching me,” Canderous said dryly one night, squeezed next to her on the bunk. She just grinned.
“Afraid?”
“Of him? Why would I? He’s no warrior, just another Republican soldier with a grudge against my kind.”
“So you think he’s no threat?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just not afraid of him.”
She just laughed, and kissed him gently before sending him to sleep. It was easier to pick his brain afterwards, when his guard was down.
~~~~~~~~~~~```
“Are you going to keep the Mandalorian around, General?” In the ten years since they met, Bao-Dur learned the art of deception well. Now his face is relaxed and he meets her eyes without guile. She knows better, though.
She smiles at him, amused, and says, “Why would I do a thing like that? I’ve told you before, I don’t like playing with someone else’s discarded toys. I have my own to play with.”
“Oh, do you...”
“I told you, Bao-Dur - sometimes, to make a better world, you have to do distasteful things. Do you disbelieve me?”
“Of course not, General.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Malachor V was bad, bad all around. They’d been scattered across the planet when they crashed, and she had to go kill Kreia by herself, and hope that Bao-Dur could hold everything together while she was gone. She missed him, if only for the fact that impossible situations were easier to deal with when you had a wise-cracking mechanic around.
It took her 36 hours to hack her way through the legions of kids Kreia had trained, and then there was Sion. That really sucked. Battling Kreia was no cake-walk, either, but Sion…
She had felt bad for him. He’d been used badly, and it surprised her that Kreia would use her pawns so badly.
Maybe it shouldn’t, though.
Afterwards, when the Hawk rescued her from the wreckage, she found it was worse than she feared. Atton and the Disciple dead in some weird fight over her, Mira probably murdered by Hanharr, Visas dying in the medbay…
Bao-Dur was the least injured, for some reason, but that wasn’t saying much. It was a miracle he’d had gotten the ship up and running, seeing as he had a leg broken in three places and his arm had been destroyed again.
He was in the medbay with Visas, concentrating on holding her internal organs together long enough to let the kolto do its’ work, and he was so deep in a trance he didn’t even flinch when she put a hand on his shoulder.
“Leave it,” she said firmly. “Just let her die. She isn’t coming back from this, and no amount of healing will change that.”
He just looked up at her, and without a word stopped the healing. Visas screamed for a while, begging for help, but soon it was over. All that was left to do was burning the body and bringing the ashes back to poor, dead Katarr.
~~~~~~~~~~``
“So what do we do now?” He sounds lonely and aimless, and she remembers a time when Bao-Dur was capable enough to survive on his own.
That was a very long time ago.
“What we always do, Lieutenant. Try to make the world a better place. Kill people.”