Chapter 300
I finally closed the last holodisk and leaned back in the chair with a long, exhausted sigh. The sheer volume of clauses, ancient treaties, blood feuds, and mutual contempt between the Republic and the Hutt Empire was staggering. No wonder Obi-Wan Kenobi had earned the nickname "the Negotiator." I didn't have his diplomatic finesse, nor did I have Ethan's combat protocols to fall back on for the messy political work ahead. Tomorrow's meeting with Jabba was going to be a minefield wrapped in slime and protocol.
A soft knock sounded at the cabin door.
"Master?" Zule's voice filtered through, hesitant but warm.
"Yes?"
"Can I come in?"
"Sure."
The door hissed open. I turned in my chair just as she stepped inside, still dressed in her simple Jedi robes. The fabric clung lightly to her athletic frame, the deep brown contrasting beautifully with her vibrant red-orange Falleen skin. She had left her hair loose after the shower, the dark strands framing her face in soft waves. She looked… tired. Beautiful, but tired. The kind of tired that came from nearly losing someone you loved.
*To be honest, I think I should talk with her first,* I thought. The first time on Ohma-D'un had been different — I had shielded her from a bomb blast, but we weren't nearly as close as we were now. It had only been three weeks since she officially became my padawan, and barely five weeks since her master Glaive had been killed by Selena. She at least understood the lie about the Gen'Dai… mostly. Apart from Thrawn and that damned holocron of Darth Nox (which didn't really count), no one else knew about the Yuuzhan Vong. My brain still replayed the moment I had basically said goodbye to her — flinging her and Rotta through the portal, then sending my final words through the bond to her and the girls: *goodbye… and I love you.*
She approached slowly, eyes locked on the scars that now marred the right side of my face and the fresh, ugly burns visible at the collar of my tunic.
For a long second she just stood there, taking me in.
Then she slapped me.
Hard.
The crack echoed in the small cabin. My head snapped to the side, the fresh scar tissue stinging sharply.
"You idiot!" she yelled, voice cracking with raw emotion. "You absolute, selfish, reckless *idiot*! You flung me through a portal like I was baggage and then you *died*, Dagon! I felt your heart stop! I felt you say goodbye like it was the end and you were fine with it!"
Tears welled in her eyes, bright and furious. She slapped me again, this time on the other cheek, though lighter — more frustration than rage.
"I restarted your heart with my own hands while you were bleeding out on that glassed plateau! Do you have any idea what that felt like? Watching your life force flicker and then… nothing? I thought I'd lost you! After everything — after you gave me my arm back, after the nights we shared, after you told me I was one of yours — you were just going to leave me like that?!"
Her voice broke completely on the last word. The anger dissolved into raw, heaving sobs. She pressed both hands over her face, shoulders shaking.
I reached for her, but she slapped my hand away once, then immediately grabbed it and pulled me up out of the chair. Before I could speak, she yanked me into a fierce, desperate kiss.
It wasn't gentle.
Her lips crashed against mine with all the fear, relief, and pent-up love she had been carrying since Teth. Her hands fisted in my tunic, pulling me closer as if she could fuse us together and never let go again. I tasted salt from her tears and the faint, sweet spice that was uniquely Zule — her natural Falleen pheromones already beginning to bloom with emotion.
I wrapped my remaining arm around her waist and kissed her back just as fiercely, pouring every apology and every unspoken promise into it. When we finally broke apart for air, her forehead rested against mine, breaths coming in shaky gasps.
"Don't you ever do that to me again," she whispered, voice thick. "You don't get to say goodbye like that. Not to me. Not to Ahsoka. Not to any of us. We're yours, remember? You told me that. You made me believe it. So you don't get to die and leave us behind."
"I'm sorry," I murmured, brushing a tear from her cheek with my thumb. "I thought… if I could buy you and Rotta time, it was worth it. The Vong was too dangerous. I couldn't risk all of you."
"You don't get to decide what's worth my life," she shot back, but there was no real heat left in it — only exhaustion and relief. "Not when I've only just gotten you. Not when I finally feel whole again because of you."
Her hands slid up my chest, carefully avoiding the worst of the burns, then cupped my scarred face. She kissed me again, slower this time, deeper. The kiss carried gratitude, fear, and a hunger that had been building since the medical bay. Her pheromones thickened the air, warm and heady, making my blood run hotter.
I backed her toward the bunk, never breaking the kiss. When the back of her knees hit the edge, she sat down and pulled me with her. I settled between her legs, my hand sliding under the edge of her robe to find smooth, warm skin.
Zule shivered, arching into my touch. "I was so scared," she whispered against my lips. "When your presence flickered… I thought that was it. That I'd never feel this again."
"You feel it now," I said, voice low. I kissed along her jaw, then down the elegant line of her throat. She tilted her head to give me better access, a soft moan escaping as my teeth grazed her pulse point.
Her hands worked at my tunic, pushing it open to expose the map of scars and burns across my chest. She traced them gently with her fingertips, then with her lips, kissing every mark as if she could heal them with sheer willpower.
"I hate these," she murmured. "But I love that you're still here. That I can touch you. That I can do this…"
She pushed me onto my back on the bunk and straddled my hips in one fluid motion. Her robe slipped off her shoulders, pooling around her waist and revealing the smooth, red-orange curves of her body. Her breasts were full and firm, nipples already tight with arousal. The faint natural scent of her pheromones wrapped around us like a drug.
I sat up enough to capture one nipple in my mouth, sucking gently while my hand cupped the other. Zule gasped, grinding down against the growing hardness in my pants. Her restored right hand tangled in my hair, holding me to her chest as she rocked her hips.
"Touch me," she breathed. "Please… I need to feel you. All of you. Remind me you're alive."
I slid my hand between us, finding her already slick and swollen. Two fingers parted her folds and sank inside her tight heat. She was soaking, inner walls fluttering greedily around my fingers as I curled them to stroke that sensitive spot she loved. Zule moaned loudly, riding my hand with shameless rolls of her hips.
"Yes… like that… deeper…"
I added a third finger, thumb circling her clit in firm, steady strokes. Her head fell back, lekku-like head-tails (no — the elegant Falleen ridges) trembling with pleasure. Her pheromones grew thicker, making every sensation sharper, more intense.
When she was trembling on the edge, I withdrew my fingers and freed myself from my pants. Zule didn't wait. She rose up, positioned the head of my cock at her entrance, and sank down in one smooth, desperate motion, taking me to the hilt.
We both groaned at the feeling — tight, wet heat enveloping me completely.
She didn't start slow. She rode me hard and fast, hands braced on my chest, hips slamming down to meet every upward thrust. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the cabin, mixed with her breathy moans and my low growls.
"Mine," she gasped between thrusts. "You're mine. Don't you dare leave me again."
"I'm yours," I promised, gripping her hips with my remaining hand, helping her ride me harder. "All of me. Always."
Her pace faltered as her climax built. I sat up, wrapping my arm around her back and pulling her flush against me so I could kiss her deeply while I thrust up into her. The new angle hit her perfectly. Zule cried out into my mouth as she came, her walls clenching rhythmically around my cock, juices coating us both.
The feeling pushed me over the edge. I buried myself as deep as I could and spilled inside her with a rough groan, pulsing again and again until we were both trembling and spent.
We collapsed together onto the bunk, still joined, breathing hard. Zule nuzzled into my neck, pressing soft kisses to the scars there.
"I love you," she whispered, voice hoarse but steady. "Don't make me feel that again. Please."
"I love you too," I murmured, stroking her back with gentle fingers. "I'm sorry. I won't. Not if I can help it."
She lifted her head enough to look at me, eyes still shiny with unshed tears but filled with fierce affection. "Good. Because next time I'm not letting you shove me through a portal. We face it together. All of us."
I kissed her forehead, then her lips, slow and tender this time.
"Together," I agreed.
Outside the cabin, Tatooine's twin suns had long since set. Inside, wrapped in each other's arms, the weight of tomorrow's negotiations and the scars of today felt a little lighter.
For now, there was only this — warmth, relief, and the quiet promise of more nights like this.
Zule curled closer, her breathing evening out into sleep. I held her, listening to the steady beat of her heart against mine, and let myself believe, just for a little while, that we might actually make it through whatever came next.