How I Fell For a Sith (Star Wars)

Chapter 18: Liquor? I Hardly Know Her!

The gentle whir of the hyperdrive vibrates through the hull, a mechanical lullaby that's become weirdly comforting over the past few weeks. I trace lazy patterns across Vae's crimson shoulder, enjoying the lingering warmth of her skin against mine. Our new bed, if you can even call something this ridiculously oversized a bed, dominates our quarters so completely that we basically have to crawl over it to reach the door.

"Worth every credit," I murmur, sinking deeper into the absurdly plush mattress we bought on Circumtore.

Vae makes a soft humming sound of agreement, her attention fixed on her datapad. The blue glow illuminates her features in the dim light of our quarters, highlighting the beautiful angles of her face and the elegant curve of her horns. Her sweat-dampened skin still glistens slightly, evidence of our vigorous activities from a few minutes ago.

"Find anything interesting?" I ask, propping myself up on one elbow.

"Mmm," she responds noncommittally, her crimson finger scrolling through whatever she's reading.

I don't push for more. These quiet moments after sex have become a strange ritual for us, her diving into bounty listings or intelligence reports, me just... existing beside her, soaking in her presence. It should feel awkward or disconnected, but somehow it doesn't. There's an intimacy in the silence, in the way her body radiates heat like a sun-warmed stone.

The ship's environmental controls cycle with a soft click, sending a brief current of cooler air across my bare skin. I instinctively edge closer to Vae, drawn to her warmth. She shifts slightly to accommodate me without looking up from her datapad, her body molding against mine as if we've been doing this dance for years instead of weeks.

"The galaxy's most dangerous space heater," I tease, pressing my nose against her shoulder and inhaling the spicy-sweet scent that's exclusive to her.

She nuzzles absently against my hand, still scrolling through whatever has captured her attention. A strange thought suddenly strikes me. For all the intensity between us, for all the life-and-death situations we've faced together, I know almost nothing about her past.

"Vae," I say, my voice soft in the dim light of our quarters, "I just realized I don't really know you at all."

She scoffs, not even taking her eyes off her datapad. "You made me cum four times in under an hour," she says matter-of-factly. "I think you know me perfectly well."

I can't help but laugh, though there's a hollow note to it. "That's not what I meant." I gently push the datapad aside, forcing her to look at me. "I mean your past, your childhood. Where you came from. What you were like before you became... this."

Her crimson eyes narrow slightly, studying me with that predatory look that always stirs me up. "Why does it matter?" she asks, genuine confusion in her voice.

I take a deep breath, my fingers still tracing patterns on her skin. "You love me, right?"

The question hangs in the air between us, seemingly simple yet loaded with meaning. Vae's eyes snap fully to mine, her expression softening in that way only I get to see.

"Of course I do," she says, as if stating an obvious fact like

American cheese is the best one.

"And I love you," I continue, my voice catching slightly. "Correct?"

Her brow furrows, those crimson features arranging themselves into a mixture of confusion and annoyance. "Yes, Ty-Lar," she responds, her tone sharpening with impatience. "Is there a point to these obvious questions?"

I hesitate, my thoughts tumbling over each other. Do I love her? I'm definitely attracted to her. My heart races when she enters a room. I crave her touch, her approval, her fierce protection. But love? That word carries so much weight, implies a depth I'm not sure I've reached yet.

What I do know is that when she smiles at me, really smiles, something inside me lights up. When she sleeps beside me, I feel safer than I ever have, even in my last life.

"Well," I finally say, gathering my courage, "since I love you, I want to know you. The real you. Not just the deadly Sith who's amazing in bed, but the person underneath all that power and intensity."

Vae sits up slightly. Her expression is guarded, calculating, as if I've presented her with a complex tactical problem rather than a simple request for intimacy.

"My past is irrelevant," she says after a long pause. "I am who I am now. With you."

"I get that the past can be dead," I say, rolling onto my back to stare at the ceiling. "But what about now? Do you have hobbies? Things you enjoy doing when you're not killing people or fucking me?"

The question lingers. I can feel her studying my profile, those crimson eyes calculating something I can't quite read.

"Hobbies?" She repeats, as if tasting a foreign word.

"Yeah," I turn back to face her. "Things that make you happy just because they do. Not because they're useful or necessary."

Vae's brow furrows, those elegant horns catching the dim blue light from her discarded datapad. For a moment, she looks genuinely perplexed, and I realize with a sinking feeling that she might not have an answer.

Vae sighs softly. "Up until now, my free time has been virtually non-existent."

The admission surprises me. I've never considered what her life was like before me, the monotony that might have filled her days between missions and training.

"I suppose I enjoy sampling high-end liquors," she continues, her voice taking on a thoughtful quality I rarely hear. "And trying exotic foods from different systems. But usually when I was on missions, I wasn't exactly in a position to do things purely for pleasure."

"Sith training doesn't exactly encourage personal interests," she adds, her lips curving into a sardonic smile. "Power and survival tend to take precedence over hobbies."

Something in her expression shifts, softens. She turns to face me fully, cupping my cheek in her palm.

"But I'm having the time of my life since we met, Ty-Lar," she says, her eyes holding mine with startling intensity. "You've given me something I never thought I'd have."

I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. "And what's that?"

"Joy," she says simply. "Just... joy."

The word hangs between us, small but significant. I turn my head slightly to kiss her palm, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of affection for this complicated, dangerous woman.

"Oh, by the way," I say, the question popping into my head suddenly, "what race are you exactly? I mean, I know you're red, but..."

Vae pulls back, staring at me with an expression of utter disbelief. "You don't know?"

I shrug helplessly. "Should I?"

She bursts into laughter, a genuine, melodic sound that fills our quarters. Before I can defend myself, she wraps her arms around me in a fierce hug, her body shaking with continued mirth.

"That's right," she says between chuckles, "my husband is a little bit dim. That's okay. I love you anyway."

"Hey!" I protest, though there's no real offense in it. Her laughter is too contagious, and I find myself smiling despite being the butt of the joke.

"I'm half Devaronian and half human," she explains, gesturing to her horns and crimson skin.

"That explains the horns," I say, reaching up to touch one.

Vae's laughter fades, replaced by a more serious expression as she takes a deep breath.

"Look, Ty-Lar," she says softly, "my past wasn’t happy.”

Something in her tone makes me go still. I've never heard her speak this way before, like she's peeling back layers of armor she never removes.

"I grew up in a lab on Korriban," she continues.

The name triggers something in Rax's memories, stories of red sand, imposing stone structures, and whispered warnings. A cold feeling settles in my stomach as I realize that's where the Sith are trained. From what I can piece together, it sounds like absolute hell.

"I don't have parents," Vae says, her voice steady despite the weight of her words. "I was made because my master, Tarren Nohr, spliced together DNA. I wasn't born from a mother, I was grown in a vat."

"Oh, shit," I whisper, unable to hide my shock.

She continues as if she hasn't heard me, her eyes distant now. "I was an experiment. I had nineteen brothers and sisters." Her crimson lips curl into what might be a smile but holds no warmth. "I was the only one who survived past eighteen. I killed the others."

My throat tightens. "I'm so sorry, Vae," I manage, my voice barely audible.

Her eyes refocus on me, surprise evident in her expression. "No, it was easy," she says, and there's no boasting in her tone, just simple fact. "Korriban for me was easy. And once my master recognized my potential, life got better."

She traces a finger along my jawline, her touch feather-light. "But I always knew once I met you, I'd throw everything away.”

Something in her gaze shifts, grows more intense. "And I didn't hide that from Nohr."

"You told her?" I ask, trying to keep up.

Vae nods. "She knew about my visions, about you. She encouraged them, actually." A shadow crosses her face. "She thought my obsession with finding you made me stronger, more connected to the dark side."

"Wait, you're saying your master thought I made you more evil?" I ask, the words tumbling out before I can stop them.

Vae's forehead wrinkles. "Evil? Ty-lar, the dark side isn't evil. It's simply bending the Force to one's will using passion. Master Nohr understood that I was passionate about you."

I let that sink in for a moment, trying to reconcile her words with the casual violence I've witnessed from her. "But you kill people without hesitation. You cut off that Sullustan's arm and forgot about it."

"And?" She tilts her head, genuinely perplexed by my reasoning. "The strong survive, the weak perish. That's the natural order of things." Her thumb traces circles on my palm. "My passion for you gives me strength. It fuels my connection to the Force in ways my master found fascinating."

"So I make you stronger?"

Vae nods, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. "The Sith Code teaches us that through passion, we gain strength. Through strength, power." Her voice takes on a reverent quality I've never heard before. "My visions of you, my determination to find you, they were pure passion, unfiltered and absolute."

I try to wrap my head around this. All this time, I've been thinking of her as someone who embraced evil, who chose darkness. But in her mind, there was never a choice between good and evil, just between power and weakness.

"Do you miss your master?"

Vae's eyes flick to mine, “No," she says flatly. "Tarren Nohr is just a Sith Lord who treated me like a toy. A useful experiment to be studied and deployed."

There's a clear bitterness in her tone.

We lie there in the dim light, the gentle hum of the hyperdrive filling the space between us.

After a while, she breaks the silence. "What about you?" she asks, her voice softer than usual. "I've learned much about you from my visions, but they never showed me where you were from."

"I'm not Rax Orlen," I say finally, the words hanging heavy between us. "The name I grew up with was Tyler Walsh."

She nods slowly. "Yes, Ty-Lar.”

I don't correct her pronunciation. Something about the way she says it has really grown on me.

"I grew up in a city called Boston," I continue. "Earth. It was a lot of fun until I graduated college and got a shitty job I hated. Soul-crushing work."

Vae listens with that intense focus she usually reserves for planning missions or selecting targets. "And then you quit and became a bounty hunter?" she prompts.

I laugh, the sound hollow even to my own ears. "No. Not exactly." I take a deep breath. "I died. There was a car, a speeder, I guess you'd call it. A kid in the street. I pushed him out of the way and..." I make a vague gesture with my hands. "Next thing I know, I woke up in Rax's body with two sets of memories in my head."

Vae stares at me for a long moment, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly. She studies my face in a way that reeks of disbelief.

"The Force works in mysterious ways," she finally says, her voice measured. "Transference of consciousness isn't unheard of in Sith texts, though usually it requires a Holocron."

"Don't you think it's weird, though?" I press, leaning closer to her. "I'm literally not from this universe."

Vae's lips curl into another smile.

"City, system, galaxy," she says with a dismissive shrug. "It doesn't matter where you were before, Ty-Lar. You belong with me. That's all that matters."

The certainty in her voice leaves no room for argument. Part of me wants to protest, to make her understand the magnitude of what happened, but another part, a growing part, finds comfort in her simplistic view. Maybe the details don't matter as much as I thought.

"So you believe me?" I ask, searching her face.

"I believe you believe it," she responds, her hand sliding to cup the back of my neck. "And whether you came from another universe or were simply damaged in ways that altered your perception…" She holds up a hand when I start to protest, "The end result is the same. You're here now. With me. As you were always meant to be."

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it, shaking my head at her stubborn certainty.

“Fair enough.”