((Fair warning: This gets a bit graphic. Suggestive, but graphic. And heads out of the gutters, people. The other sort of graphic.))
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"Qu-Quar, wait up!" the young man exclaimed, gasping for breath, stumbling over the rocky hillside.
Quarasha stopped and smirked back at him. "Oh dear, is the almighty Sith asking for the poor slave to slow down? Come now, Timoc, surely you can do better than that!"
Timoc groaned, and tried to pick up the pace. It was still early in the day on Korriban, and the sun had yet to beat down upon the barren world. Still, it was much too early for hiking a few miles over rocky hills. Only the Force knew how his lover managed to keep her strength up like that. He grinned. Probably all that dancing.
Quarasha jogged on and positively ran up another hill, her long skirt seemingly doing nothing to hinder her movement, or hide her- Focus, Timoc! Almost there! He knew his Twi'lek loved hiking, probably that endless freedom or some such nonsense.
He caught her smirking down at him, and groaned again. Or maybe she just like showing up the Sith...
It took him a while, but he finally got up that last hill, and promptly collapses on the ground, staring up at her smirk. "...didn't anyone tell you that if you keep making faces, it will stick?"
Quarasha chuckle and leaned down, kissing the boy. "No, they forgot to mention that in between the beatings. Do you enjoy the sights?"
Timoc smiled up at her, and then pushed himself up, resting on his hand, staring out at the early morning sun rising over Korriban, dimly aware of his love moving behind him. "Nearly as gorgeous as you, I would say. No wonder you had us wake so e-AAAAAAARGH!" he screamed, falling to the ground, clutching the stump of his right arm, his eyes wide with shock.
He sought his lover out, and there she was, standing above him, a Lightsaber in her hand and a cold glare on her face. "Q-Quar, w-wh-NONONO-AAAAAAAH!"
The agony doubled, his foot down sailing down the cliff to join his arm, and his lover lowered her Lightsaber to his throat. He only trembled as she jabbed a stim into his neck, and his thoughts cleared, his breath slowing as the shock wore down.
"No early finish for you today, Timoc. I want you awake for this." She reached into the pocket in her skirt and pulled out a holorecorder.
The image was that of his prospective Lord, the one who said would show him favor if- ...oh no.... "Timoc, I must congratulate you on your progress! I hear that slave is eating out of your hand now, and not a moment too soon. The symposium is only a month away, and when that whelp's carcass is tossed in front of Lord Zedney, it will be all I need to remove that idiot from power! Keep it up, boy, and you'll be my prized apprentice in no time!"
The holo clicked off, followed by silence. "...h-how?"
The lightsaber swung, and another bit of Timoc when hurtling into the abyss, accompanied by another scream. "I knew you were hiding something. So I looked."
Swing, chop, and another scream. "I should have known," she muttered, momentarily looking away from the stricken Sith.
Timoc's sobs started to clear. "...I-I w-would ne-" he began, before getting cut off by another swing.
"Never what? Arrange an attack on me so you could come to my rescue, seduce me, get me 'eating out of your hand' so you could murder me? We both know better than that, Timoc."
"Bu-"
After the scream, Quarasha frowned at what was left. She would need to slow down, only half of that leg to go. "You almost had me, too. The recording was well hidden."
Timoc shook his head. "...w-was going to, b-"
Quarasha's eyes followed the slice down into the ravine, as Timoc writhed in agony. The fool, she thought, not even trying to defend himself.
"...l-love you, Quar, w-was going to b-betray him..."
Quarasha froze, thankful that he could not see her reaction. Could he- no. "A likely story." She swung again, and Timoc's scream had... something else there, something more.
"Please, Quar, I be- AAAAAAH!" he screamed, breaking down into sobs as she finished with the leg.
Quarasha leaned down and added another adrenal to the mix, only glancing at the tears flowing down Timoc's face. "Such a pitiful Sith. Begging for mercy from a slave?"
"P-p-promise, I-I will hel-" his screams followed his other foot down the cliff.
"First-" she begins, punctuating it with another slice. "I cannot trust a thing you say. It would be far too easy for you to mislead. Second-" another slice, the scream echoing off the canyon walls. "I do not need your help. Your Lord will die tonight as his shuttle departs Korriban."
"And third." His leg goes this time, his scream fading into mewling whimpers. "No one uses me and lives. Never again."
Quarasha stared down at what remained of Timoc, his whimpers and sobs slowly shifting into an unsteady chuckle. "...w-well done," he croaked, a soft, weak smile on his face. "S-s-saw right... through it."
His remaining hand reached out to her, as though to cup her cheek, only to be stopped by her Lightsaber, met only by a strained groan as it sailed into the pit. "...y-you... will make an... excellent Sith..."
Quarasha hesitated for only a moment, then cut open his throat. Timoc's eyes were still on her until she kicked him onto his face, letting him choke on the rubble, so she could depart in peace, staring on the miles long trail back to the academy, completely ignorant that his eyes were still on her, his arm still reaching out to her, and that strange smile still on his face.
