The large corridor was silent and somewhat threatening. Dark grey walls were sparsely decorated with red and white banners. The carpet was the color of Nuála's blood-red skin. The elevator shaft in front of them reminded of a black mouth that seemed to wait for their last few steps it would take to fall down and get swallowed by it alive. The tenuous light and the pressing heat of Korriban helped adjusting the gloomy atmosphere.

All in all, said atmosphere felt more than appropriate for her mood, Nuála decided.

Her husband stood just a few steps behind her. She knew he would be standing perfectly straight, his broad shoulders square and his hands neatly clad behind his back, all soldier as always. He had endured her whole battle against the traitorous Darth standing like that. Right now, she could softly hear his breathing, feel the steady beating of his heart, and she could sense all the feelings that tormented him right now, since the Force-bond between them was stronger than ever.

Malavai radiated concern, love, pride of her, but most of all despair. His inner tumult had grown during those last long weeks, and it was almost unbearable for her now to channel it into power. She knew she must end his torture soon; otherwise she would lose control over her darkest side and might end up insane.

There had been moments when she had reveled in the Force she drew from him, taking all his misery, making it her own and transforming it into raw, rampant strength, the power running through her like a wild river. She had savored her potency, and it had been hard to resist the cruel desire to make him suffer even more. He had been all she needed to raise her use of the Force to a level she had never dared to dream of reaching.

There had already been times she felt drained, alone and close to madness, though. She knew she had to make him go through this. She would not stand against Darth Baras if she allowed herself weaknesses. If she wanted to crush her former master she must do whatever it took to prevail. Even if it meant that she let Malavai be in anguish. In a time of such peril, he could be nothing more to her than a power source to rely upon. After all, this was the way of the sith.

She knew he believed she treated him like this because of his betrayal. It was the only logic explanation he could come to, and Malavai was a rational and logical thinker. How should he know that this had nothing to do with his plotting against her?

After all, she knew the true nature of that incident.

Her husband had been nothing but a puppet, and she was sure that Baras had been well aware that the captain had never had a chance to kill her. He could have ordered Quinn to just blow her ship up at any time, which would have been a sure kill. Instead he had instructed him to fight her face to face. Malavai had just been the pawn her enemy wanted to sacrifice. Baras had wanted her to live through the betrayal and suffer from it. He had wanted her weakened. He had wanted to draw power from her agony. He had not thought the relationship between his annoying apprentice run wild and her little boy toy deep enough to create such a bond between the two of them.

For all the Darth knew she had lured her captain into her bed just to enjoy a little carnal distraction now and then during her missions. Which was pretty much how it had started between Quinn and her.

She had met her captain back at Balmorra and found him quite attractive. Then, the way this brilliant brain and perfect soldier blushed crimson and lost his trail of thought every time she flirted with him had been just too much fun to stop it all after he joined her crew. He had proven himself to be a real challenge, quite unlike Pierce, who would go down on her right on a battlefield if she only allowed him to do so. When Jaessa had asked her permission to start her little "extra sparring" with the lieutenant, Nuála had granted it without second thoughts. Pierce was a good looking man, but he simply was too easy prey for her tastes. Quinn, on the other hand… It had been quite a hunt.

When her captain finally took all his courage and asked her to be reassigned, because he felt compromised by his longing for her, she pushed him so far he declared himself an idiot in the end and asked her permission to kiss her right there. He had been so adorable, pulling her into his embrace and kissing her passionately; she had not even tried to get him out of his pants then. Instead she had decided to wait for his next move.

Weeks after that day he had bluntly declared he would not suppress his desires any longer and had asked her if she would join him in his quarters. She had pulled him with her into hers instead. With the door locked behind them he had turned into a completely different man. "Captain Protocol" had been a hot blooded, passionate and competent lover. Nuála had been an experienced woman herself, and the two of them had pushed each other to their physical limits for the first time.

What had started as casual sex soon became regular. Eventually it turned into making love. By the time she allowed him to move his personal belongings to her quarters they had both been deeply, hopelessly in love with each other.

Which Baras had never expected. He had never considered that they had truly bonded that much. After all, it was not common for sith to allow themselves a weakness like this. He had considered Quinn important enough to her to cause her pain by his set-up. But he had underestimated the quality of their relationship. Baras had not even dreamed that Nuála would be able to sense Malavai's true feelings during his attack.

She had felt everything. The Force had screamed it out to her during their confrontation. She had felt his inner torture turn into her own wrath, fuelling her powers like nothing she ever felt before. And she had decided to use this, to play along, destroy his battle droids, deal her lover enough painful blows to make him surrender and even Force-choke him almost to death afterwards.

It had taken all her willpower to recover fast enough from what she did to him. But she had performed well and had sent him ahead to board the "Nightmare" without her. He had been two airlocks away before she had broken down and burst into tears.

Yes, he had betrayed her. Yes, he had tried to kill her. But she had felt how much he hated himself for doing so. And she had felt how much he hoped that she would just kill him before the droids took her down, so he would not have to live to see the Empire prosper without her by his side.

She knew she still loved him dearly, and hurting him like she did that day took its toll of her. But it was the price she would have to pay if she wanted all of them to get out of this feud alive.

Thinking of all this, she had lain curled up in a ball back there at the cursed A-class and had permitted herself this one moment of weakness, crying in heavy sobs like a child. Then she had scrambled up to her feet, leaning heavily on the cold dura steel wall of the corridor. When she finally stood straight again she had been completely calm and determined.

She would not allow Baras to succeed. She would not allow him to kill her husband or any other member of her crew, and, stars, she would not allow him to erase herself. She was the Wrath of the Emperor, and she would not allow that son of a bitch to achieve victory.

SHE WOULD NOT ALLOW IT.

If defeating him meant she would have to break Malavai's heart over and over again, she would do that.

And so she had done.

He had been the perfect soldier again when she entered her ship and told him she didn't want to sleep in the same bed with him anymore. He had stood to attention before her, his jaw clenched, his hands folded behind his back and his eyes fixed at a point at the wall behind her when he silently nodded his agreement. Only the Force had betrayed his misery.

She had turned from him, yelled for Jaessa to come join her in sparring and had beaten the hell out of her apprentice. Afterwards she had done the same with Broonmark and Pierce. None of them complained. They knew something had happened between their lord and their captain, but none of them dared to ask what. She did not intend to ever tell them.

She had taken Pierce planet-side when they arrived at Corellia. She knew it would drive Malavai mad to be left behind while she roamed the streets with the other man. She also knew that Malavai suspected Pierce to have a crush on his lord. She made sure he heard her saucy remark about Pierce's fitness when she led the lieutenant towards the airlock.

For the next few weeks she had teased him in every possible way.

When the two of them finally arrived at Korriban his heartache was beyond endurance. And still he clung to her side, eager to go with her, even if she didn't allow him to help her in any way.

She had never loathed herself more than this day.

She had never drawn more power from him than this day, either. Her fight against the traitor had been a triumph. She had gloried in the arts of war, dancing her deadly dance with her lightsabers like it was nothing to her. She had relished the feeling of absolute power, and when she had thought that nothing could make this revenge sweeter she had performed her last nasty trick on her husband. She willfully had caught a blow. Malavai had gasped. She had sensed the pure terror of his fear for her. She had allowed herself to take a quick glance at him. She had sucked in the impression of his tortured face. Then she had brought down her prey.

The whole Dark Council had accepted her superiority over Baras. None of them had come to his aid when he begged them. None of them intervened when she finished him off.

She had won.

It was over. Baras was dead. The Empire was safe from his venomous schemes. The Wrath of the Emperor had proven herself. The whole Dark Council had hailed her, and they had declared her a Darth herself.

So here she stood, victorious and at the prime of her career, and felt disastrous.

With Malavai so close to her she suddenly felt the full impact of what she had done to him.

She knew she should release him from his torture right now. She could not. She felt so much power, and it was so easy to keep this up. The craving for more was almost unbearable. She fought hard not to turn to him and shoot him an evil remark, just to feel another wave of his agony bleed into her, nourishing her with purest power.

Standing in that gloomy hallway, Nuála realized that she was about to pass the point of no return. If she went on like this any longer, there would never be a chance for her former life again. She would gain power beyond her imagination, but she would pay for it with all she held dear.

She wanted this.

She loathed this.

She suddenly knew she must not act like this. If she did not stop right now she would become another Baras.

She tried to turn to her husband, to fix this mess she had driven them into. 'Tell him', she screamed silently at herself, 'say you love him, say you want him, say you will not do this to him anymore.' It was impossible.

The elevator ascended.

She stepped inside.

She turned around.

There he was; handsome, brilliant, devoted, and right in front of her. She took in his sight. Then she took in the sight of his Force-aura. He ached for her, more than ever before. How could this be so hard? She knew what she had to do, and yet…

She took a deep painful breath. Then she forced herself to speak.

"Malavai…"

His aura exploded. Love, happiness, gratitude, relief, it all washed over her in an instant.

When he stepped close to her, she already felt his feelings soothe her battered soul. When she let him kiss her for the first time in weeks, she knew two things for sure.

Everything would turn out all right for them.

And she would never tell him what she'd really done to him.