Oh my stars, here it finally is. I sincerely hope it lives up to expectations. Those curious about the inspiration of this chapter—Halsey's song: Control hit the nail on the head.

[Ｌｏｃａｔｉｏｎ：

Ａｒｋａｎｉｓ ｓｅｃｔｏｒ

ＤＳ－１ Ｏｒｂｉｔａｌ

Ｂａｔｔｌｅ Ｓｔａｔｉｏｎ

Ｅａｓｔｅｒｎ Ｑｕａｄｒａｎｔ
Ｔｒａｉｎｉｎｇ Ｒｏｏｍ ＺＣ]

A  Y  E  N

  THERE WAS A PALPABLE BONE-DEEP COLDNESS. If it were possible to peel back the layers of one's soul, Vader would have mastered the dark craft solely through the cold, unseen fire of his gaze. He alone composed a heavy shroud that settled upon her, setting her apart from every living entity in the room—an orchestrated effort crafted from the dark side of the Force.

Every crevice of her mind, to the complete oblivion of the others, was laid bare before him. Deep within her instinctual being, she knew he was exploiting that vulnerability as some form of punishment. If there was one thing she'd learned from the Sith by now, it was never to underestimate the lengths in which he'd go. In that moment she was the prey and he the hunter, encroaching upon her with a methodical prowess.

   The walls of her throat felt stuffed with cotton. In the blink of an eye, reality snapped back, and her surroundings shifted into focus. She found herself already standing while others remained immobile, their drawn, tense expressions fixated on the Sith.

  Not a single, visible breath was drawn.

  Zev daringly contested the tension buzzing beneath the surface of every individual. Shifting a fraction closer to her, his Adam's apple bobbed—a nervous tic betraying the gravity of the situation. Yet, with his solid step forward, Ayen realized with alarming clarity that he somehow knew.

  Zev knew there was something significant between her and Vader. He'd positioned himself like a personal buffer, as if offering a modicum of reassurance.

Ayens lips parted to refute her colleague, when Commander Stark stepped towards the Sith.

  "My Lord," he addressed curtly, a slight tremor to his steepled hands. The air seemed to thicken with apprehension and he cleared his throat, a nervous twitch in his mustache. "Session just ended. I apologize this was not addressed to you directly. I was informed you were here to survey the training regimen?"

The lights above the exit doors flickered with a low thrum, seeming ready to combust. Vader's hooded shroud turned slowly, just enough to address the Commander with a distinct edge. "I was delayed."

The Commanders eye flinched with a surge of paranoia. "O-Of course," he smiled shakily. "I understand, My Lord, forgive me if I was out of line."

The Sith nodded, albeit slowly. "Resume schedule then. Dismissed, Commander."

  Ayen's teeth sunk into the already tender flesh of her cheek. It was a wonder she hadn't drawn blood from the force behind her bite. In the oppressive silence, not a single person dared to defy the orders handed directly from the Supreme Commander himself.

The cadets filed out, their movements constrained by the weight of the looming figure bathed in shadow. Hints of reverence were exchanged in glances aside her colleagues. Valara's questioning look spoke volumes, but Mac's arm tightened around hers, his bone-knuckled grip conveying silent caution with a firm shake of his head. Sterling gave Ceru a firm shake, a wordless command to stand down.

The rest of the sub-level factions funneled out swiftly, a collective sense of unease hanging in the air. Ayen was left nearly alone in the suffocating presence pressing down upon her—until Zev shook his head in silent refusal at his twin.

Dammit Zev.

  Commander Stark had already departed with the remaining officers in obedience to Vader's orders without hesitance, none the wiser.

  "Zev, go," Ayen bit out in a clipped tone, her gaze fixed on the Sith. She knew she was meant to stay behind. "Dammit, Zev, that's an order." Her chin shifted just a fraction, teeth clenched, adding in a low voice, "Don't make this worse for me."

  Zev reluctantly obliged, hastily adding in a low tone, "Until later then." Clenching his jaw, he made it past the flashing EXIT sign, the doors slamming shut behind him with a deafening bang, barely missing him in the process.

Ayen squeezed her eyes shut, the sound resonating down to the soles of her boots. Zev had just signed his own death sentence if this wasn't rectified. Fighting to center her thoughts, a cool breath of wind pushed back her braided ponytail, threaded by invisible hands. Her lips parted with a sharp gasp when several lights burst around them—his doing. Erratic shadows danced across the floor, plunging her deeper into the dark with him.

She took a breath, steadying her voice while painfully aware of the volatile atmosphere. He was far removed from the man she glimpsed in the heat of a thunderstorm. "My Lord, my officers will be waiting for me." Her lifted her gaze imploringly. "They're already asking questions."

  His voice came through the darkness sharp as a spear. "They are aware you're under tight jurisdiction. Under my hand, which they won't dare refute."

She knew exactly who he was referring to but quickly switched tactics. "And the holo cams?"

"On a loop, security will be none the wiser."

"That's rather... convenient."

"The Force works in mysterious ways, Lieutenant." There was distinct cocky edge to his voice. Beneath the façade of smugness however, was a chilling emptiness, words forced out of cold determination through clenched teeth.

"Although..." His shadow circled her with predatory grace, gloved hands clasped behind his back like a hunter toying with its prey. His voice slithered up her spine, sending shivers through her body, nearly stalling her breath. "It appears you've gotten a little too comfortable around here. Care to refute this, Lieutenant? Speak up," he snapped.

  Ayen delved deep within herself, searching for the tenacity that had carried her through in the past. She scraped together the last remnants of her composure, keeping her gaze firmly rooted to the floor. For the first time, uncertainty crept into her, amplifying the heavy sense of foreboding that filled the air.

  She kept her jaw set despite the fear that gnawed on the edges of her resolve. "I do what is asked of me, my Lord," she replied, her voice betraying a slight quiver.

Ayen suddenly realized she had encountered this side of him before—traces of it. The inner beast blazed like a furnace within him. This was Darth Vader, the fearsome enforcer of the Empire, the figure whose very name on the holos struck fear into the hearts of all who crossed him.

  This was the Commander the 501st swore to with undying fealty.

He's just come back from a battlefield.

The sulfuric scent and singed fabric were becoming more prevalent. She was nearly swallowed by his shadow now, which reflected off the floor's resilient surface designed for shock absorption. It mirrored how she felt in that moment—steadfast but bracing for impact—as the Sith Lord continuously circled her with calculated precision.

  His eyes penetrated the very barrier of her skin, ever on the hunt, seeking to exploit any weakness that might give him an advantage. To intimidate her, to bend her into submission. She recognized those mannerisms, having seen them in many masters back on her dustbowl of a planet.

He's wants me to hand him the victory he's seeking.

She felt a slow heat start at the base of her crown and sucked in a breath upon recognizing the act. "Stop it," she said finally finding a strength in her voice once more. "I know what you're doing."

"And what is that?" came his voice, too eerily soft; a mocking croon. The ghostly whisper seeped into her flushed skin, stealing any trace of warmth left.

  A shiver crept through the thin threads of her cotton shirt. She licked her lips, the vein in her neck flexing as she steeled her stance. "I remember a similar feeling in your quarters."

He paused mid-step, pivoting to fully face her. Her eyes widened slightly when a gloved hand gripped the back of her neck. "Seems you are far more perceptive than credited, Lieutenant," he murmured, his voice laced with cold amusement.

  Bait him.

She tightened the muscles in her neck, raising her chin defiantly. Her voice was infused with the same unforgiving edge. "It's a violation of my privacy, reading my mind."

"It's also against conduct to fraternize with subordinates under you."

  Ayen would have been a fool to miss the parallels. An invisible line was being drawn in the sand between them. Even in this diabolical state of his, they were nearing a precipice; she could feel it deep in her molecular core.

  "Zev has nothing to do with this," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the tension thick in the air.

"With what?"

"You know."

"Enlighten me." His voice was hard like granite, carrying a subtle edge as if goading her to confess what simmered beneath the surface.

A volatile combination of fire and ice fused together, the core center of a blue flame. It ignited something deep within her soul just as he slammed her against the padded wall, enough to steal her breaths in that split second. It caused her heart rate to spike and the pulse in her wrist to throb, while restrained by a cold leather hand.

"Too slow," his voice dropped a degree, shadows deepening the sharp contours of what striking features he possessed. A muscle ticked in his jaw and he leaned closer, seemingly drinking in her breaths like a ravenous man. "I've lived through the bloodiest of wars, Lieutenant. I've committed acts so heinous they'd make your skin crawl. And you dare to bait me?"

Fire.

It blazed in his eyes, threatening to consume her in the very flames. Rich and vast in color, his gaze burn with an intensity she could barely comprehend.

  The adrenaline crashed into her with such brute force, it propelled her forward with her lips parting in refute. "Nothing frightens a Sith Lord. Am I wrong?"

He smacked his cybernetic hand against the wall with such ferocity the mechanisms resonated, the width of his iris blown wide.

  His lip twitched in response. 

Ayen's breaths grew shallow, staring into those eyes that held many facets of the complex man whose current face of the general slowly dissolved.

She didn't know where this sudden wellspring of courage had come from, but she refused to let it falter.  "This isn't about punishment, is it?" she asked softly, her eyes darting between his, searching for an answer. His posture had loosened a fraction, and she knew she was reaching him.

A cold smile curved the upper cupid's bow of his lip. Yet his touch was gentler, a finger lifting her chin slightly under the dim lights when his brow furrowed. "What's this?"

Ayen realized he was referring to the abrasion along her cheek. "It's nothing, just a flesh wound." She shrugged if just to evade his scrutiny.

His gaze darkened re-directing her fixed attentions back to him with a shift of her chin, "I prefer you didn't lie to me."

"I don't need another life on my conscience."

"So, a subordinate caused this."

"Why..." she retorted with an arched brow. "Why care I'm just a technician."

The muscle along the angular curve of his jaw tightened. Angling his head just right, his nose nearly grazed hers as a gloved hand deliberately traced the slope of her neck.

"What would you have me say otherwise, Lieutenant... Ayen?" His voice shifted, deepening into something guttural and raw, each syllable shaped deliberately in the shell of her ear. "You want me to confess I'm no virtuous cuck? Dare I ruin the fiery girl from Tatooine for all?" His featherlight fingers traced the rivet of her collarbone, the contrast of cool leather against her heated skin stealing her breath before she could form a retort. "Such thoughts of you reach me on my station—every, fucking day."

She gasped, a flare of heat unlike anything she'd ever felt arresting her chest upon his words that seared her blood beneath flushed skin. Shockwaves of hot and cold rippled down to the very tips of her fingers and tingled across the buds of her tongue. It left her breathless and disoriented to formulate a coherent response.

  Upon this his lips curved, seemingly feeding off her bodily reactions. "Your heart is beating so fast, Lieutenant." He leaned a sliver closer, lips like velvet as they ghosted along the curve of her ear. "But...you're walking a dangerous line. Don't tempt me."

With a low exhale he drew away, resuming the authoritative stance of her superior. Shoulders erect, arms folded behind his cloaked form, he once again embodied the figure of command."We deploy to Coruscant tomorrow. The Emperor has requested you and your team's presence for Empire Day. Be ready to depart with your sect at 0600 from your hangar."

It was as if the moment had never happened, the intensity replaced by the looming gravity of their impending deployment.

While she was sweltering.

Ayen blinked several times, feeling the weight of foolishness settle like ferroncrete in her chest. The sheer embarrassment dropped her head a sliver, weighted by the sting of what felt like rejection? Truly, she didn't know how to decipher the situation. Despite her best efforts to conceal her reaction, she couldn't deny the undeniable effect he had on her. With each heartbeat, the blush deepened across her freckled skin, betraying a dozen different emotions.

  "It will be done, my Lord," she finally responded with a clearing of her throat. She could not dwell further on the encounter. At least, not in his presence.

However inside, she remained a mess.

Silent resolve borne from her familiarity with his cold dismissals, she chose to be the first to depart.

"I need—" She abruptly cut off when the door flew open. With a silent nod, she quickened her pace. Even with the burn of his eyes searing into her back, Ayen resisted the urge to look back.

.... ....

What the Force-forsaken hells—did I just do?!

For the last half hour she'd done nothing but pace. After returning to her quarters and informing the team of the change in schedule much to their shock—Ayen had been left to stew in what had occurred just hours ago.

"I'm a kriffing idiot, is what I am."

She could finally admit it. She was attracted to the Sith Lord. All their insane moments together had culminated in a pathetic and twisted—dare she say it—infatuation with the Supreme Commander.

  She was surely going to Corellia's hell for this.

  The Darth Vader; the practical epitome of the Empire itself. A nefarious Sith Lord that had killed hundreds if not thousands of sentients galaxy wide. She was officially the laughingstock for the cosmos. Hells, he was probably laughing at her stupidity in his private quarters.

Ayen groaned, scraping a hand down her face before throwing herself onto her sleeper. She'd already taken a much colder shower in the fresher and her skin still itched. Even the loose nightshirt felt too tight, too constricting. She couldn't get the normal pattern of her breaths down.

She was just a kriffing mess.

"Force, it's not like I haven't been snogged before!" she muttered. Granted, those few times had been drunken and sloppy, with people she wasn't particularly close to—casual encounters at barracks shindigs with zero attachment involved.

Vader had subtly implied in the past that he was more than aware of those escapades.

"I'm so absolutely fired. If not I'm dead. My cell block is probably being set up as I speak. Son of a Sith!" She yelled in her native tongue a string of obscenities into her pillow. All this pent-up frustration had been weighing her down for—weeks.

  "Okay," she bolted upright, folding her legs into a pretzel, hands raised in a placating gesture. "It's fine, everything's fine, and I'll just enjoy this excursion to Coruscant. Then I'll focus back on work, do what I'm told, and just—ugh!"

She tugged at the roots of her hair, strained from anxiety, braiding and unbraiding the thick tresses of dampened strands over and over. "Damned hormones," she muttered, reaching for the piece of her afghan from home. Her thumb rubbed over the coarse texture as a headache began to form. "Blast, this tension headache. Where are you, Mom, when I need advice?"

Oh right, dead.

She'd never gotten the talk, though she'd witnessed plenty. From the dusty streets of Mos Espa to the gambling dens and cantinas packed with a variety of galactic species. Some of those sights, particularly when her mind veered to tentacles and what could ensue, were things she wished she could scrub from her memory forever.

Oh Corellians hell, stop before I lose my last ration bar.

It was official: she'd gone insane. Being on this battle station had probably made her insane. "I am stupid. Jee wermo."

"Ayen?"

Startled, Ayen jerked her head out of her caged hands, senses reeling as she reached for the C-1 commlink she'd tossed in frustration to the edge of her bed. Taking a breath to gather herself, she leaned toward the mic.

"Yes... Zev?" Her voice was sharp, skipping the formal address. He certainly didn't deserve it.

"I'm uh... outside your door. You got a minute?"

"Zev," she sighed exasperated, one hand braced against her forehead, "I'm really not in the mood."

"Ayen, please. I swear I'll be quick."

She exhaled a long, slow breath, chewing her lip in deliberation before finally conceding.

Throwing on a cotton robe to maintain some decency between them, she approached the door and pressed the blinking knob. It slid open with a distinct hiss, revealing the outer corridor bathed in artificial lighting.

There Zev stood in the same shirt and slacks from training, a small bacta patch fastened on his busted lip. "Hey."

Ayen leaned against the door, crossing her arms in answer.

  There was visible hesitation in the Dantooine native, an uncertainty in the way he stood there, uncharacteristically so. It almost made her feel sympathetic.

Almost.

His shoulders slumped slightly, and a softness in his gaze amplified the variegated tones of blue in his eyes. "I honestly... just wanted to apologize. Mac's already given me an earful but—well—my actions were wrong. I—I shouldn't have..."

From behind his back he pulled out a metallic bottle, looking suddenly shy. Slowly, he extended it out towards her.

Ayen looked at him questionably. Slowly, she took it.

"Found it at the small shop on station. It's reusable, meant to keep your water cold. I know you prefer a cup before tucking in." A crooked smile broke across his lips. "You're, uh, not too subtle about sneaking libations back, love."

Ayen was unable to help the small, hushed laugh that slipped past her lips in disbelief. It was rather sweet. Only a Wittar could make such a peace offering. Tucking it into her side, she glanced up at him with a delicate smile that spoke of her forgiveness. "Apology accepted."

Zev nodded, a muscle feathering in his jaw as if he wanted to say more. Thankfully for the sake of both of their depleted energy or a lecture would've surely followed for his conduct—he didn't. "Well I should tuck in. See you at 0600. First time into hyperspace for you."

"Don't be late, Zev."

It was halfway down the corridor that he suddenly turned on his heel, head cocked in her direction as a dimple surfaced, the relief visible in his expression. "Wouldn't dream of it, chief." He bidded her a curt nod, "Sleep well then, A."

  Ayen watched him go before heading back into her quarters.

  Then, harsh reality hit.

  Zev was going to be on Vader's shuttle tomorrow, confined to the same close-knit corridors. Under the Sith Lord, it was no secret that no one ever survived a second indiscretion with him.

"Oh, kriffing hells..."

Coruscant is up next.

Although I may do a small ship scene because who wouldn't love that. Thoughts?

Coruscants will probably be split into parts. I hope this lived up to expectations. I'm beat love you all.🤍