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Mind Games	By : Darksaviour03 Category: Star Wars (All) > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2909 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Star Wars Belongs to Lucas Arts. No Profit has been made from this fan fiction.

Chapter List
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Chapter Four

I.

Prescost lifted her head and glanced around her. At that moment, she understood that he would come for her. Death would not separate them. With her in-depth study of him, she knew that the Sith viewed those who worked beneath him in a personal or professional relationship as his property.

Many months ago, his possessiveness would have been enough for her. She would have been happy with his limited attention and the rare amorous moments that danger had fostered between them. A hint of hidden emotion was enough to sustain herself. The woman foolishly let herself believe that she loved him enough for both of them.

Presently, she wanted more. To be his mistress, a Sith's whore, was not enough for her. Not anymore. She hungered for something more tangible. For the first time since she was a child, she looked forward to the future. Once she gave birth to their child, Prescost could not settle for a tiny bit of his heart. For her daughter, she had an epiphany. It was all or nothing.

Prescost had glimpses into the soul of her lover. He had a fuse that burnt low. She knew that being Sith allowed him to channel his anger. Yet, she could never guess how evil the man truly was. With her by his side, they murdered some of the most vile people in the galaxy. Adaki had derived some sick pleasure from it, taking intense enjoyment in debasing republic wretches.

There was another side to him. When he thought no one was looking, he could preform certain acts of kindness. Usually, it revolved around her needs and desires. He refused to let his ship droid prepare any meals for her. Despite being forced to prepare food before his life in his Order, he made her food as best as he could. His meals weren't bad, either, she thought.

“Adaki,” she purred, allowing herself to bathe in the knowledge that he was there. He had traveled half way around the galaxy to retrieve her. If that did not speak of his affections for her, she could not think what a man could do to express his intentions.

She remembered her first conversation about Sith and their emotions. Through pain, Adaki's master had reminded her that a Sith could make love, but he avoided love. Many thought passion and love were the same thing. It wasn't true. Love, itself, was a dangerous emotion, and most Sith avoided it at all cost. A lover could be turned into a weakness, forcing the man or woman to act when they weren't ready.

In trust, she could understand that rational. As an agent, she dissolved associations with most of her relatives. The only one she kept in contact with was her Uncle Oimu, a very vain man. The only reason for that was he was in intelligence.

She waited for him to make himself known. He would rush to her and take her in his arms. The many months would dissipate in a matter of seconds. Looking forward to it, she waited for him to unmask himself.

For two minutes, they both stayed there. Besides announcing his presence, he did not speak. She had no idea what he wanted.

Two could play his game, she thought to herself. Dropping her hand to her hip, she caressed the small, ebony box in the center of her dark belt. A aqua light pulsated from it, pacing in-tempo with the racing illumination.

Becoming tired of his intimidation, she thought back on their previous relationship. He would use fear to get what he wanted. At the time, she thought it was the Sith way. Now, she was realizing what a bully her lover was. A part of her was becoming disillusioned with him.

She ran her fingers over the button. An ivory translucent cylinder washed over her, enveloping her completely in its aura. Her body blinked rapidly, throbbing with the heat emitting from the device.

Prescost knew it took many years to become a master in the arts of stealth. There were many things that could disrupt the field that the small device generated. It took great concentration to be able to blend into the background to remain unseen by a person's enemies.

Fondly, she remembered her first time using the stealth field generator. Recruits of Intelligence used a very basic version of it. She took a few steps. The device deactivated, and she became quickly exposed to her trainer. If he had been a foe, she would have been quickly cut down. Prescost had never been so embarrassed in her life. She hated to fail.

For Adaki, it was easier. He had the Force that he used to guide him. All, he had to do was wave his hand before him. The world bended to his will. If it did not, he forced it to obey him. She envied his awakened talent. There were many times that she wanted to be able to move about freely and without worrying about anything disrupting her shield.

Stalking around the edges of the throne room, she listened for the tell-tale footsteps that would betray his presence. Every sound that drifted in the lush room was dissected by her mind as she listened for the different nuances that would betray his location.

The sounds of the killiks' clawed footsteps as they walked around the perimeter of the throne room echoed. In the months that passed, the nest had grown considerable in size. While Vector and she were on there, he was busy. New arrivals, both human and not, were admitted into the clan each day. She was glad for them. After all, it would mean that the Empire would take the Killiks more seriously than they have been.

She was proud of everything that Vector had done for his hive. Prescost knew the tiring work her friend had undertook. How often was he awake in the cargo hold, talking to the hive?

There were many times that she had to tell Adaki that there was nothing between the Dawn Herald and herself. She had come to see the man as part of her family. He, not Adaki, brought her clarity in the darkness that consumed her soul. It was a dangerous thought to have, and it seared her mind with its stark truth.

In the distance, she could hear the wailing of an infant. Prescost knew that Adaki would be able to hear as well. He would not think much of it. After all, he knew the killiks were taking in more joiners. The assassin probably assumed that another woman was pregnant. Adaki had no reason to think the child belonged to him.

Still, her lover was silent.

Prescost stopped before the throne. She cocked her head to the side and continued to listen. Months before, the two of them were at that same spot as they sought allies against terrorists. She thought it slightly queer that he was there at that moment and she considered him an enemy. Adaki was her greatest threat, she mused to herself. He was a danger to their child.

“Do you remember what I told you happens to those who betray me?”

How could she forget? He told her constantly what happened to those who jeopardize his wishes. Adaki killed without mercy or consideration. It would be easy for him to dispatch her, move on, and forget her.

To hell with him, her mind screamed in her anger. Heat assaulted her emotions and bubbled beneath her flesh. It exploded like tiny volcanoes, expanding with each thought. For months, she had spent time mourning his death. She had thought him dead, and she knew she would never love another.

However, Adaki was there now. What should have been a joyful reunion was marred into something else. Grief and anger pummeled her calm appearance.

“Damn you!” she hissed, allowing her anger to get the better of her. It was unlike Prescost to show emotion to anyone. She was trained to keep her emotions bottled inside of her as if her body was an impassible boulder. Adaki had always brought that side out in her. “I betrayed you?! I am here trying to get over your death! I was not unfaithful to anyone!”

He still did not make himself appear. With each passing moment, she found herself becoming enraged with him.

“I have never experienced grief like I did when I thought you were dead. Well, now I experienced it twice. How could you possibly think that I have been unfaithful to you? I am not the Sith concerned with his powerbase. I love you, you foolish zabrak.”

After her harsh diatribe, silence existed between them.

“It's you who is unfaithful to me,” she declared, harshly. “You seek to torture me for some reason that I do not understand. Why must you string me along when you are incapable of loving me?”

She should have been shocked at her outburst. The woman had never shone that side to Adaki. In fact, she usually went along with what he wished. Prescost was sure that he was just as shocked.

The woman should have anticipated his answer.

“Just keep dangling that little bit of spice before my nose, and I'll bite.”

II.

Still hidden from sight, Adaki moved towards Prescost. Though she had enabled the generator on her belt, he knew exactly where she was. He had a natural ability to find weaknesses in a generated stealth field, and he had honed that ability throughout his training. Though they would be barely discernible to the untrained eye, he could see the faint lines surrounding her silhouette.

Fury bristled inside of him, poking his insides as if she had jammed thousands of needles into his flesh. He could not understand her reasoning. How could she even come to the conclusion that she did?

Silently, he walked right up to face her and gripped her chin with his hand. The disturbance deactivated her stealth field, but it also broke his own concentration. He was now visible as well.

She gasped in pain. The sound squeaked out of her, flaming the wrath rolling inside of him. He despised the fact that he cared about her enough to go to the ends of the galaxy to retrieve her. Prescost made him weak and strong at the same time.

“When did I ever say that I was incapable of loving you?” he sneered. He bent his head forward, and his angry face was inches away from hers. The tips of his horns touched the skin of her forehead.

“Don't try to say otherwise,” Prescost sneered back. Her upper lips contorted into a visible grimace. She cast her gaze from him and stared at the dark robes covering the musculature of his chest. “I know you don't love me.”

“You damn fool,” he growled back at her. “You've tried repeatedly to claim that you know so much about me, but the truth is that you don't know a damn thing. I do love you. The fact that you are still breathing is testament to that.”

His admission lay between them, and Adaki felt powerful. There was still a twinge of an unknown emotion lurking deep within his heart. He had tried to ignore it, stowing it away as he did any other thing that bothered him. Still, it surged, rolled violently, and colored his thoughts.

Adaki's faced edged closer to her as he tightened the grip on her face. Shadowing the fury he felt inside, crimson raged in his gaze.

“You still do it, Sith,” she snarled, quietly. Through the turbulence crashing in her gaze, he could feel the grief welling up inside of her.

He studied the curves of her face in quiet reverence. Adaki wasn't suppose to feel the emotions rolling through him. A part of him feared that she would reject him.

Fear, he thought, bitterly. There was many times that he was suppose to experience that feeling. When he was captured, he did not feel terror for his future. When his master's wife proposition him and he killed her, he felt no alarm over his health. During the trials on Korriban, there was no sense of dread for what he faced.

Now, trepidation over her rejection soaked him to the bone like a heavy rain washing over him. He didn't know what to do. At that moment, he knew that he couldn't go on without loving Prescost. His heart latched onto her like a parasite. Without her, he would surely die.

Bringing his lips down, he crashed them painfully to hers. Adaki groaned his mouth against hers, and he reveled in the metallic, tangy taste in his mouth.

As she moaned against him, he felt the intense need to render pain to her. She should feel like she had made him a few moments ago.

Tiny bits of lightning shot from his fingers, making her gasp beneath his morbid embrace. Prescost wanted him to love her, and she would experience the full depth of his affection. He held pleasure and pain before her and encouraged her to grasp for it hungrily.

After Adaki moved his hand from her chin, it slid downward until it rested on her left breast. In an anticipation that had only grown during their separation, he kneaded it softly, pinching the tender flesh through her thin vestment.

She lifted her arms and looped them around his shoulders.

To his amazement, a small, dark, wet spot spread outward from her nipple. There was something that she was avoiding telling him, and he hated to be kept in the dark. His mind would run away with the things that she could have been hiding.

“What is the meaning of this?” he growled, growing impatient.

Prescost withdrew from him, backing away while refusing to make contact with him. It was clear that she was conflicted about what had happened.

Or, he thought, snidely, she was simply afraid to tell. Prescost was never one to conceal the truth from him. She knew the consequences of such an act. No one, not even her, was safe from his wrath.

“You must promise me,” she muttered, “that you will not react violently if I tell you. Remember that I thought you were dead and that I had no other choice.”

“Tell me,” he seethed.

“First swear!” Prescost barked. It was apparent that she did not fear what he would do to her for ordering him around. She was protecting someone else.

“You show courage in speaking that way to a Sith Lord,” Adaki purred. “You are bordering on foolishness, however. Very well, I will hear what you have to say, for now.”

III.

Prescost squared her chin, lifting her head to face him. She had been betrayed by those she had trusted. Her own sister sold her out to the Republic. Laelithra was the reason she was imprisoned and tortured for so long on Belsavis.

Looking into his fiery gaze, she made a realization. She was not afraid of Adaki. Through all of his maniacal murders, he was only posturing for her. A part of him wanted her to fear him; another part of him was fearful of what she made him feel. Something bonded them together, interlocking them and refusing them separation. Their relationship was like the boughs of a thick forest.

The agent knew another thing to be true. While he simply scorch her with his lightning to show her the place he thought she belonged, she would kill him to protect their offspring. She would not prostrate before him. Prescost was not Sith, and their daughter was for something greater than both of them.

“I do not see you as a Sith Lord,” she admitted, sadly.

His eyes narrowed, stretching the blackness of his tattoos around his eyes. Ire rolled off of him as if it were smoke from a burning building.

“I see you as my lover. It's not foolish to view you as that. Would you prefer that I did not? Would you want me to look at you like I do any other Sith Lord instead of my future husband?”

“You're changing the subject,” his voice lashed out like the crackle of his saber.. An annoyed expression quickly passed over Adaki's face. “Stop avoiding the question and answer it, or I will become angry.”

“I'm not avoiding anything,” Prescost replied, innocently. She thought she could subdue him with her guileness, yet she should have known better. “I'm going to tell you.”

Adaki sighed in contempt, and he gripped her shirt in a clenched fist. In a violent motion, he ripped the shirt from her, exposing her upper body.

Embarrassment heated her body. It seared inside of her as if it was a roaring inferno. She could hear the chatter of the killiks guarding the throne room. At once, she knew that Vector would hear about it. Was he coming to her aid at that moment?

The Sith Lord's lower lip turned downwards in a vicious snarl. His eyes flashed the malevolence that roiled inside him. In a deliberate show, he pinched her left nipple and pulled on it hard.

A stream of white liquid squirted out onto the floor before her. It splattered onto the ground and spread outward in a minuscule pool. As his eyes widened, she knew he knew.

“You're pregnant,” he said, calmly.

“I've been faithful to you,” she answered. Prescost was becoming disassociated with the entire event. Numbness overtook her. Thoughts blurred together in a medley of anxiety and fear. She was not frightened for herself but for their child. “Even though I thought you were dead, I've been with no one else.”

“Where is my child?” he demanded.
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Mind Games