We've Come Through A Lot Together OTP Challenge #7 - Yav and Ysanne AU CHARACTERS Ysanne Isard - Mid-Forties Coruscanti human female, director of Imperial Intelligence. Yavinelf Dangerrescue - Sith Inquisitor, and former Level 28 half-elf Rescue Ranger (Everquest). Mitch Nifesta - (referenced only) 2000 year old Twi'lek Force Vampire, and former agent with Republic-era security agency, the Secret Galactic Intelligence Service. Timeline: 7.5ABY AU. Genre: Angst (eg. some people aren't happy) Summary: The lovers have a crisis in their relationship. Left the fresher seat up or something. Ysanne and Yav' knelt together, in what could be called a panic room, a bare and sterile chamber aboard the Super Star Destroyer Lusankya, that was currently orbiting the planet Thyferra. Human femme and male half-elf were leaning on each other, arms around each other, Isard had the side of her tear-stained face pressed against his chest, and both were, to some degree, audibly sobbing. Part of it was relief, part of it was a reaction to their knockout, drag-down argument that they had been having; and the rest was fear, anger, a feeling of betrayal. Yav had gotten wind of a disaster upon the newly liberated Coruscant, and despite the planet now being in New Republic hands, the former Rescue Ranger had felt the old feelings come to the fore, and headed over there, anxious to aid the survivors in any way that he could. Naturally, he had commed his girlfriend to tell her that he was on the way, only to learn that it was her ripping her buried Executor-class Super Star Destroyer, up through several city blocks, that had caused the crisis and loss of life in the first place. He had been surprisingly tranquil about the matter. Ysanne had cautiously broached her concerns about his travel plans: "Err, define, on the way." She had asked into her voice pickup, on the SSD's bridge. "Enroute, or not yet picked up the tickets from Byss City Spaceport?" "Enroute. Not that far from the Core, really" "No no no no no no no no no no-" In fact, the longest "no-no-no" in recorded history had ensued as she had had the SSD perform a handbrake turn worthy of Admiral Amilyn Holdo, 25.5 standard years later, and set off on an interstellar intercept course to interdict Yav's shuttle before he could reach Coruscant. Tractoring him and his ship on board, she had revealed the reason for her panic; she had been planning to release the alien-affecting Krytos virus on the former Imperial Centre, and had not wanted her Norrathian boyfriend down there. Yavinelf had verbally lit into her, appalled that she could consider doing such a thing, batting away her attempts to argue that it would be what the late Emperor Palpatine would have wanted. Unable to dissuade her from her plan of action, but determined that she would not unleash that plague, he had played the last sabacc card in the pack, threatening to hypercomm the one being that she still feared, with both her father, and the Emperor, dead. That Twi'lek security agent that they had known from the Clone Wars, and her legally-recognised uncle, Mitch Nifesta. "How would he react if he knew what you are planning to do?!" Yav had yelled at her across the plasteel desk in her Ready Room. Standing opposite him, her breathing shallowed at the mere thought of him on board her Lusankya, stalking the corridors with one of Jorus C'Boath's old JC-embroidered evening slippers (long story) in hand; Ysanne had planted her fists into the table top to keep from wringing them in worry. She knew exactly how that patronising, overly moralistic, colorless Twi'lek would react. He would go kriffin' bananas. She would be over his knee on some trumped up charges, and then, then, she would probably lose the Lusankya, the Twi'lek again deciding that she was not old enough to be doing her job, and taking her away with him. She didn't even consider that she was on an outsized 8-mile long Star Destroyer, bristling with turbolasers, with a crew complement completely under her command, whilst Mitch probably still had his rickety 115-metre Consular-class cruiser. The being had almost single-handedly rescued her from the infamous Lucky Star space station at Avec III, on the edge of Hutt Space. Upon finding her, he had handed a furry toy to her adult self, and instructed her to look after it, and make sure that it got out safely with them. All to keep her mind off the carnage that he planned to reap if anyone thought of stopping them leaving. The Intelligence director looked pleadingly at Yav. "You....you wouldn't?" "D-dude!" He blurted, anxiety lacing his tone. With some effort, he managed to calm himself enough to regard her with a steely gaze. "You want to unleash a biological weapon upon a civilian population. Drokking try me, Ysanne. Just try me." Isard relented then, a shaking hand waving about till it anchored the chair, and she settled herself into it, her other forearm on the table, her black-and-white hair caressing the surface under her bowed head. "What do you want me to do with the virus?" "Do?! Destroy it of course! Drop all stocks and supplies of it into the nearest star. Is it all aboard the ship? And if not, where? How were you going to deploy it?" Ysanne had haltingly revealed her planning, and under the Inquisitor's watchful gaze, fired the virus stocks into the Thyferran sun. They had then, mutually agreed to retreat to the Panic Room. The End Notes: The Lucky Star is fanon created by Flyboy240. Thanks to Wikipedia's entry on 'types of slippers'.