The Short Fic Weekly Challenge Thread!
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12.07.2012 , 11:08 AM |
Quick little piece of fluff before the new prompts roll in.
Maneera Sindri, no spoilers
Senate Plaza spaceport, Coruscant. 0 ATC.
The four of them stood in the spaceport — Jerec and Irialle, Maneera and Conor — half-listening to boarding calls for outbound shuttles, waiting for the moment that inched slowly closer.
“You’re really sure about this?” Maneera asked.
“I still have a job to do,” Jerec replied, smiling. “And besides, this will have me in a position to keep a discreet watch over a pair of promising young Jedi.”
“You’ll remember to call, won’t you?” Irialle added. It was not a question.
“I promise, Mom.”
“Now boarding flight 786, service to Tython.”
Irialle laid a hand gently on Jerec’s arm; he nodded in acknowledgment, then fixed Conor in a glare that was somehow no less fierce for being eyeless. “Captain Breslin.”
“Should the notion ever occur to you to mistreat my daughter, I would like you to bear something in mind. I am an archivist for the Jedi Order. This gives me virtually unquestioned access to the broadest and deepest collection of knowledge in the galaxy. What I do not know, I can learn in short order.” Jerec leaned in, his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You do not want to test me in this.”
“Sir,” Conor replied, “if anything happens to Mans on my watch, I’d concede to whatever recompense you considered appropriate.”
After a long, thoughtful moment, Jerec gave a solemn nod, then shouldered his and his wife’s bags and started for the departure gate.
“They’d never find the body, you know,” said Irialle brightly as she patted Conor on the shoulder.
Maneera watched her parents go, grinning fondly. “I think they like you.”
"I may be on the side of the angels,
but don't think for one second that I am one of them."