Enfys remembered Qi’ra. Who could forget a woman like her? Poised, warm, hopeful, optimistic. She’d seen more than her fair share of violence, that much was obvious, but Enfys saw good in her and, more importantly, Qi’ra saw the good in others. That was a trait so few people shared and it made something ache in Enfys’s chest when she learned of Dryden Vos’s death and learned, too, that Qi’ra was responsible for it. Even without the eyes and ears she kept trained on the syndicates, she would have known what that meant and the cost it would have exacted from her.
Oh, Qi’ra. If only there was another way. Or: if only she had believed there was another way.
Enfys had long ago learned that there were some things you just had to do. They were terrible, unpleasant, abhorrent things, but necessary. It took her a lot longer to figure out that they didn’t always have to compromise your soul. She would have hoped that Qi’ra knew the same, but she suspected not. Though she’d seen that good in Qi’ra, she’d also seen vulnerability. That boded ill for a clear-headed acceptance of the truth.
She seemed the type to wallow in her worst decisions. Even if her worst decisions ended in the death of a vile, evil man.
It made—at least, this was what Enfys was banking on—Qi’ra a target, more than the enemy she was on paper.
Dryden Vos had made himself impervious to anything except the most basic of violent acts. It was the only language that he spoke or cared to understand and it made things hard on the Cloud Riders, who required extensive training in all forms of martial combat, who needed to learn viciousness and to not succumb to hopelessness as black marks stacked up against them just to keep up with Vos’s endless supply of rage-filled actions.
Each raid, every death, weighed heavily on them. It was hard, sometimes, to keep their eyes and focus on the goal. It was unfair to ask them to carry so much of the burden of this fight for freedom. And Vos had never flinched, never stopped. He was a machine, deadly and lacking in the self-consciousness that even the least sophisticated droid would have.
Enfys could not ask less of them, she would not. To do so was certain death. They had to be as bad as Vos to win.
But sometimes?
Sometimes, the galaxy’s luck worked in her favor. Sometimes, it dropped an opportunity in her lap that she could not pass up, one that required nothing more than the work she herself wished to put into it. Today, she didn’t have to ask her Cloud Riders to sacrifice themselves for the greater good.
She could sacrifice herself and her safety and maybe bring salvation back to them. That was the plan anyway. But even if she failed, they were safe. That was a comfort to her.
If nothing else, it would be nice to see Qi’ra again. She had been so beautiful on Savareen, so warm beneath that prim, sophisticated veneer. Enfys would have liked to invite her to join them right then and there. She had that spark in her, that something that almost all of the rebels shared. A sense of fairness and purpose, a need to fight and win. Enfys had seen all of that and more in Qi’ra. That she turned those qualities back on Crimson Dawn and used them to reshape the syndicate in her own image was surprising, but not overly so. The only unfortunate part was that they were still criminals, still bullies once she was done with them and therefore, they were still enemies of the Cloud Riders.
Enfys rarely conceded to her nerves, but even she could not deny the anxiety that pulsed inside of her, worry mingling with doubt dancing with fear. She wanted this to work more than she wanted just about anything, not that she could figure out why it mattered quite as much as it did. Sure, she wanted Qi’ra on her side. That would be helpful. But if she failed, she wasn’t afraid to die. Fear of that had been burned out of her enough years ago that it didn’t seem worth counting them up.
Footsteps approached her table, a squat, unassuming thing in the back of an even more unassuming cantina on a station nobody cared about in a system that was beneath even the lowest of the syndicates’ attention. The bar was quiet, calm, and no eyes lifted as yet another newcomer passed. It had been the same when Enfys arrived.
As Qi’ra sat, her eybrow arched high on her forehead. She was not used, Enfys imagined, to going out and finding herself again a faceless, uninteresting citizen of the galaxy. Enfys hoped she enjoyed the novelty of the experience if nothing else. “I must admit,” she said, a thin layer of brittle amusement coating her words, “that you’re the last person in the universe I ever expected to hear from.”
“Is that so?” Enfys asked.
Qi’ra’s head tipped and she rocked her hand back and forth. “I might have expected a bomb or two. Maybe a raid. A battlefield, certainly. It was the invitation for drinks that came as a surprise. Is this a new technique you’re working out for your Cloud Riders? Is negotiation on the table?” She placed both of her hands on the table, lacquered nails the color of blood and ash and there was hunger in her eyes. It would be quite the feather in Qi’ra’s cap if she were to get the Cloud Riders off her back. It was not so difficult to see the calculations clicking away in the back of Qi’ra’s mind. Her attention dropped to Enfys’s mouth just as Enfys’s gaze darted away. Probably it was nothing.
Yes, Enfys thought, her focus honed on Qi’ra’s manicure to keep from giving too much of herself away. And no. “The Cloud Riders are grateful to be free of Dryden Vos’s interference. That is worth our recognition and respect.”
Her jaw clenched tight enough that her teeth creaked in her skull. This had been a bad idea. Qi’ra would try to eat her alive if she said the wrong thing.
It would be a bloodbath. Arrogance, sheer arrogance, had driven Enfys here today. Arrogance and hope. She was tired. Her Cloud Riders were tired. And Crimson Dawn was the biggest, most well-connected of the syndicates. They were a behemoth and Enfys was nothing more than a shard of bone stuck in their craw. What Enfys wouldn’t give for a reprieve. What she wouldn’t do.
What Enfys wouldn’t give or for Qi’ra to turn away from her baser instincts, the ambition and fear that drove her. There was more to her than that and she, unlike her predecessors and contemporaries, was not driven by anger and ego. She, also unlike them, could be reached with something better than flattery and scraping the floor, undignified.
If, of course, she could be reached at all.
That was what Enfys hoped to do here and now. The fact that Qi’ra came at all suggested Enfys wasn’t wrong to believe in her.
“I did come hoping you would negotiate with me,” Enfys said, not nearly as compelling as she’d rehearsed. It was unfortunate that she’d forgotten just how beautiful Qi’ra was. If she’d remembered, she might have better prepared herself. As it was, she had a hard time focusing on her own words when her gaze kept darting to Qi’ra’s full, red lips now that Qi’ra had put the thought in her head by doing I first.
Qi’ra, much to Enfys’s relief, didn’t seem to notice what she was doing at least. Perhaps Enfys was still a mystery to her in this respect. In truth, few looked at Enfys as anything more or less than the leader of the Cloud Riders, occasional ally to Saw Gerrera, friend to rebels whatever their stripe. Nobody thought that she might be lonely or weak or that she might want to touch someone and be touched in return.
That she was looking at Qi’ra—her enemy, ostensibly her greatest personal enemy, though at least she wasn’t officially Empire—with thoughts like that rolling through her mind perhaps meant something she didn’t want to look too closely at.
“And what do you intend to negotiate with?” Qi’ra asked. A curious smile lifted her mouth, softened her features. “From my perspective, I have no reason to be here.”
“And yet you are. If you couldn’t imagine the utility of it, why do that?” It wasn’t the best argument that Enfys could come up with, but right now, half of her was more interested in wondering what Qi’ra tasted like. Hopefully, Qi’ra never realized her advantage and push it. Hopefully, she would remain blind to it.
“I was intrigued, I must admit. And it wouldn’t be a lie to say I was eager to hear what you have to say. If nothing else, it would be good for a laugh. You are much too honorable for your own good. I can only imagine what you were thinking in asking to meet.”
That wasn’t true at all. Nothing Enfys did was honorable though it might have been for an honorable cause. It was all dirty, bloody, necessary work. That she tried to conduct herself honestly was not the same thing as honor. She’d learned that since they first met. It made Enfys wonder what Qi’ra had learned in turn.
They had both changed and maybe not for the better, though Qi’ra didn’t seem so very changed from the woman Enfys remembered. That was what made it so hard. Or perhaps it made it too easy.
Easy for her to imagine leaning forward and grabbing hold of the sleek ponytail she wore in order to tilt her head just right. Just so.
Enfys opened her arms and shrugged. Smiles were hard to come by in her line of work, but she dredged one up from somewhere, polished it to a high shine. “Perhaps I wasn’t thinking at all.”
“In that, you and a few of my lieutenants are in agreement.” Qi’ra’s eyes narrowed and her distant politeness took on a harder sheen. So Qi’ra wasn’t interested in playing games today, though she seemed perfectly happy to waste time. That was interesting. That was good. Or maybe she just didn’t want Enfys playing stupid with her. That was good, too, and so perhaps she wouldn’t.
After a moment’s hesitation, Qi’ra’s eyes keen and true on her, she leaned forward the way she wanted to before. She did not, however, grab hold of Qi’ra or do any of the other foolish things currently flitting through her thoughts. It was more restraint than she’d had to show in quite a while and she hated it, hated that she couldn’t have this one moment without a fight, too. Everything, everything was a fight.
Just once, Enfys would like something to be easy and fun. If she was being entirely honest with herself, she would settle for easy. Of course, if she’d intended to obtain easy, she wouldn’t have contacted Qi’ra.
Qi’ra’s eyes dropped again, filling Enfys with hope, though false or otherwise she couldn’t guess. The life Qi’ra had led, who was to say she didn’t see exactly what it was Enfys wanted? Who was to say she wasn’t willing to exploit it? She’d exploited every other person who’d been able to springboard her to her current position, turned the people who held power over her into stepping stones.
Enfys admired that. She admired Qi’ra and hated her and wished that she could be better than what she was.
If only Enfys could make her see herself the way Enfys saw her. She was neither an ornament nor a blade; she was will made flesh.
The rebels needed her. At the very least, they needed her cooperation.
“I don’t want to fight you,” Enfys admitted, quiet. The words would have been as good as death to the other Cloud Riders. It would have been too much like betrayal for them to hear her say these things. But she was tired and Qi’ra was lovely and Crimson Dawn would always be the wall against which her people broke themselves. It was useless, beyond pointless to deny that simple truth.
“Why ever not? Are we not enemies?” Qi’ra’s gaze raked across her, sliced through her skin and slashed through the core of her. “You’ve done a perfectly admirable job eluding my enforcers and I’ve seen no signs that you intend to slow down your efforts across the galaxy. You’re not here out of a position of weakness. Why not fight me?”
“Because there are more important things than fighting you.” Every argument Enfys had considered reared up in her mind. Wouldn’t it be nicer for Crimson Dawn if they didn’t have to worry about Enfys showing up to ruin their profit margins? Enfys could turn her attentions elsewhere, rid Qi’ra of her competition. Sure, it was only a short-term solution to a long-term problem, but wasn’t that better than their current standoff? For a little while, everyone could benefit.
“Such as?”
It would have been ridiculous to say that Qi’ra was the only one who understood the position Enfys was in, but it felt true to Enfys all the same and that was what mattered: perception. So. Enfys did the one thing she’d been wanting to do this whole time rather than make the admission.
Just barely managing to stop herself from grabbing Qi’ra’s hair again—that seemed likely to cause Qi’ra unhappiness and might be seen as a threatening gesture—Enfys curled her fingers around the back of Qi’ra’s neck and tugged her forward. Qi’ra’s body went rigid and then relaxed, so quick that Enfys almost couldn’t follow the change from statue to responsive, living creature. She poured everything into the kiss that followed, argued her point with teeth and tongue and meaningless sounds of need and desire and sheer, stubborn want. And not just her desires, her wants, but her hopes, too. For Qi’ra. For the future. For them, even if all they ever became was not enemies.
Qi’ra was quick, Enfys could give her that. She didn’t act in the least bit surprised after that initial moment of startled motionlessness. Her hands roamed over the thin linen of Enfys’s shirt, so unusual compared to her thick, heavy, concealing armor. They teased at the skin stretched across Enfys’s clavicles and slide over the curves of Enfys’s biceps and down her arms to catch her wrists in a light hold.
It wasn’t a threat, though Enfys was well aware that Qi’ra could break the fragile bones of her hands if she truly wanted to. It wasn’t so different from the way Enfys could crush Qi’ra’s windpipe and leave her to suffocate in this dingy, dirty booth in the back of a bar that no one knew or cared about.
When Enfys pulled away, Qi’ra’s eyes remained closed, only opening after a slow delay. She blinked, sleepy, her lips parted. “Oh.” Qi’ra cleared her throat. “That wasn’t quite what I was expecting either.”
Enfys supposed she shouldn’t have been as pleased with Qi’ra’s reaction as she was. Nor I, Enfys didn’t say, because she knew this was an advantage she’d never have again. If she could press it just right…
“I don’t expect you to join the rebel cause,” Enfys said, easy or feigning it, like approaching an easily frightened creature when you were the one who was afraid. In truth, she would have wanted just that. If she’d kept her head about her, she might have picked a tack that worked, go slow, bring Qi’ra around in the long term. Now, she suspected all she would have was an ill-informed kiss and a goodbye, Qi’ra’s laugh ringing in her ears if not the sound of blaster fire.
“I would hope not, because that’s not going to happen.” Qi’ra’s mouth thinned into a thoughtful frown. “I expect you’d like some intel on the Empire though, wouldn’t you? Or access to, hmm, a few of my more secretive hyperspace lanes?”
That would be nice, Enfys thought, though she refused to give voice to it. She’d already overplayed her hand in spectacular fashion, her lips tingling from her impatience, her impertinence.
When Enfys said nothing, Qi’ra continued, eyes drawn again to Enfys’s lips, “Your argument is compelling. And the seduction was rather nice.” She smiled, though, and raised her hand when Enfys opened her mouth to complain. That wasn’t really what this was. Enfys hadn’t intended to… do that. She’d wanted to meet Qi’ra on equal terms, find some kind of equitable, mutually beneficial stalemate. “And it worked.” Her hand curled in the collar of Enfy’s shirt and all but hauled her across the table. “If you’ll keep your Cloud Riders off my back, I’ll give you what I want.”
Enfys’s head swam and her stomach swooped as she realized she’d won. Maybe. Mostly. She’d gotten a lot of what she wanted anyway. “No dealing in the slave trade. You don’t attack rebel worlds.”
“You know me better than that. I already don’t deal in the slave markets,” Qi’ra answered, low and dangerous, lips barely brushing Enfys’s. “I only hurt the people who deserve it.”
Enfys wanted to believe that, but she knew their working definitions of ‘deserved’ were probably different. Still, it was enough of a concession that Enfys didn’t feel too bad about nodding. Besides, Enfys only hurt the people she believed deserved it, too. “Yes, good. Okay, then.”
Qi’ra was close enough that Enfys could feel the curve of her smile against her own cheek. “Okay, then.”
Neither of them ever brought up the fact that their accord came on the end of a kiss Enfys hadn’t actually planned on giving to Qi’ra, but neither of them had to.
This was for them and them alone.