@bright_ephemera: Poor Wynston and poor Hazard. This seems to be a confusing situation for both of them. Did Wynston mourn for Vector? If he hasn't done so yet, talking to Hazard might actually help, provided he wants help. So maybe it won't help.

@alaurin:

Stars, Tia……you just described Jorgan, she realized with a start.

Mako watched narrowly while Thorns grimaced. Somehow this was fascinating. The tattooist was working silently, only the faint hum of his tattoo machine could be heard. Between tiny drops of blood a new thorn began to grow on one of the vines on Thorns’ head. She still couldn’t grasp why Thorns was doing this. It obviously hurt—not that he would admit it if she asked him. The tattoo didn’t look incomplete without additional thorns. They wouldn’t add to its intimidating general view.

“So this is supposed to bring luck?” she asked. He hadn’t been very clear about this earlier.

“Not exactly.” Thorns answered evasively.

Was he embarrassed? She sighed.

Thorns had been watching her, apparently pondering what to tell her, for he continued “It’s kind of a tradition derived from an very old ritual, supposedly from some ancient assassins cult. From what I’ve been told, they used to tattoo a thorn for each noteworthy victim. The thorn will keep the victim’s ghost at bay.”

“And you think this works?” she asked incredulously.

“I can’t be sure.” Thorns admitted.

“So you are not haunted by any ghosts.” Mako stated, for this was the logical corollary for her.

Thorns seemed uneasy now. “That’s not—I mean—it’s complicated—I wouldn’t really call them ghosts. But sometimes I feel like being haunted, you know, in my dreams.”

“But that means the thorns are not working.” He was confusing her.

“What if they are working?” he inquired, his voice no more than a whisper. “What if it would be much worse without the thorns? I just don’t want to take the risk.”

http://media.tumblr.com/fbd58486bab84b32bf72e06e1b787ca2/tumblr_inline_mrqyhb0D3c1qz4rgp.png

http://media.tumblr.com/85893ca3cc36f8bfcc245a34a2656ea3/tumblr_inline_mrqylyCsa41qz4rgp.png

March, 25 ATC – 13.5 years after the confirmation of the Wrath

3 years after the death of Vector Hyllus

“Aegis clan chief, we received word of a potential situation on Nar Shaddaa. In Hazard’s old neighborhood.”

“Yes, I saw that on the morning reports. The Exchange is about to snap up certain documents that will change the entire balance of power in their sector…and threaten Godoba the Hutt, whom we still need supporting the Empire.”

“Hazard seems ideal for the extraction,” said Crenzo in his synthesized voice. “She is skilled at stealth operations and furthermore knows the area. She is even acquainted with some of the Exchange clan.”

“But she’s still green. Figuratively speaking. She shouldn’t go alone.”

“We thought clan chief would want to go.”

Wynston hesitated.

“Hazard is a very apt agent,” said the Talz. “Top marks in all evaluations, except for average target shooting. Quick, thorough – a credit to the clan. Her field assignments so far have all been executed neatly. We recommend working with her to see how she has taken to the job.”

Wynston had to smile. “You think all your students are exceptional.”

“We’re right,” replied Crenzo.

“I suppose it’s past time I saw her in action.”

Crenzo didn’t exactly look smug. He just made a small self-satisfied click from the base of his proboscis.

*

“Meet me at my ship,” he ordered, and Hazard reported carrying a small duffel of gear and an unreasonably peppy air. Her eyes sparkled when she smiled at him. “Reporting for duty, sir,” she said in her melodic voice.

“Let’s get to work then.”

She followed close on his heels to the bridge. When he took the pilot’s seat she perched in the navigator’s, surveying the controls with a critical eye.

“I’ll handle it,” he said. The ship could be fully controlled by one user. He was accustomed to it.

“Yes, sir.” She leaned back. “Is there anything we should be doing?”

“Sit tight. We’ll be in hyperspace soon enough.”

She stayed silent after that, watching while he guided the vessel clear of the Aegis and out into hyperspace. Once autopilot was engaged he stood, stretched, and headed to one of the couches in the holo room next to a console. Hazard sat opposite him. This was going to get very awkward if he didn’t do something. And might be doubly awkward if he waited for her to do something. “How are you liking the business?” he asked.

“It is exciting. Dangerous, but exciting. We like to think we are making a difference.”

“I never hand down orders without reason. I depend on field agents to make that difference.”

“You do plenty yourself,” she said, smiling.

“I try. I never got to ask earlier, have you settled into the Aegis well enough?”

“We already knew our way around when we arrived. The only difference was our clearance level.”

He forcibly suppressed the twinge at the reminder of Vector. “Tell me about what’s new for you.” That he could stand to talk about, if only she could be made to stick with it.

Thankfully, she could. For a while he was just talking to a newcomer, impressed by all she saw, eager to please. It wasn’t so bad.

An hour before landing he got back to business. “The Exchange office is off a warehouse deep in the Nikto center.”

“We know the neighborhood by reputation,” said Hazard. “Our gang didn’t go there.”

He suddenly wondered what “gang” she had run with before she’d left for Alderaan and her fate. It hadn’t occurred to him to ask. Well, it would have to wait for now. “I expect heavy guard, which means we’re not taking the front door. The ventilation ducts in between push cycles should do.” He activated the ship’s holo to show the model of the office building and ventilation system. “Stealth all the way to minimize the chance of tripping sensors while we go. We believe the files haven’t been copied anywhere outside this room yet. It’s our job to destroy any removable media as well as the main computer. Slice what you can out of it in five minutes or less, but the end result must be its destruction. Also recall that quiet is paramount if we want to survive.”

“Understood.”

He returned to the bridge to pilot the ship in. They landed on one of the innumerable open pads on the planet. Wynston paused in the doorway. “Ready?”

“Always.”

He led her out.

Hazard kept up easily with his steps. “All our brethren who have been to Nar Shaddaa remember the pollution,” she said, and wrinkled her nose. “As a vacation destination it offers an exotic variety of lung diseases.”

“Only if you can’t afford the best recirculators. Every Hutt here has the credits for it; be a good customer and they’ll share.”

“We aren’t going to Hutt territory.”

“Well…that’s really the question, isn’t it?” The Exchange would own it for good if they failed here.

Once they reached the target area, Wynston gave Hazard a hand up – she was impossibly light on his laced fingers – onto a wall. That in turn led them to a wall-mounted exhaust corridor, the waste of the indoor recirculators on this level.

They split the task of loosening the grate, setting the screws aside one by one until they could pull the metal latticework away. Wynston set it aside and met Hazard’s eye. “Lead on,” he whispered, and activated his stealth generator.

She melted from sight and, with a light finger tap to indicate her movement, started in.

He had memorized the map, and she seemed equally confident before him. In addition she was silent; apart from the occasional brush of leather against durasteel he might have thought he was alone in these ducts. How they kept a matched pace he wasn’t sure, but he knew she was never too far ahead.

She passed over the grate above their target room and immediately turned around to start removing screws. Wynston did the same in silence. He held the grate in place with one hand and waited for Hazard to give the tap that told him her blaster was ready.

He pulled the grate aside.

Only one man, a Rodian, was seated in the computer room below. He looked up when he heard the grate going. It was the last thing he ever did. Hazard immediately ducked her head into the room, a black sticky package in her off hand. She threw it hard at the camera in the room, where it stuck and flattened into cover. Then she flicked at her stealth generator to reactivate it and dropped to the table below.

Wynston followed, moving to drag the Rodian out of sight of the door. Hazard made for the computer console. She was the slicer. Here, he was lookout.

He wasn’t sure of the patrol pattern in this building. He didn’t think they would be lucky enough for lax security. This was the Exchange. They ruled through fear and they backed it with hard practicality. He crept to the doorway and stuck his stealthed head out. No one yet. He counted off time, two minutes and ongoing. Hazard hadn’t stirred from the computer.

Sometimes waiting and hoping that nothing would happen was what was required. Wynston watched the seconds pass in the long hallway.

Then a broad-shouldered Nikto rounded the corner, walking slowly, looking thoughtful. Thoughtful might mean oblivious to his surroundings. Wynston could hope. He took out his blaster in case he was wrong. He backed off, retreating into the room as the Nikto got close. He tapped the floor twice in quick succession; it was old code for “hold.” It occurred to him to wonder whether she’d learned that.

The Nikto didn’t seem to notice the sound. When he reached the room he poked his head in. For a second Wynston feared he had spotted the dead Rodian. The big alien’s eyes wandered on, though, as he finished his sweep of the room. He held still a moment longer, eyeing nothing in particular.

Hazard’s dataspike dropped.

The Nikto’s blaster was out in a fraction of a second. He never got the chance to fire it. Wynston cursed the noise of his shot but at least he removed the immediate threat. While he waited for the stealth field to restore itself after the blaster’s interference, he gestured at Hazard to retrieve the spike and keep going. Then he dragged the Nikto in to push behind another table. There were still hiding spaces left, should anything happen.

Finally, three taps from the direction of the mainframe. Wynston gave up the watch to speed up the next step. He moved to the nearest set of cabinets and started quietly, expertly forcing them. They swept the storage containers of the room, sweeping up datacards to analyze and use later, snapping each card they couldn’t carry. Whatever dirt the Exchange had had on the Hutts, it was inaccessible now.

They dropped stealth together; they needed to see each other for the gymnastic part. He stood on the table and gave Hazard a hand up to the vent square. She neatly curled and swung to get her legs over the opposite side. She uncoiled a rope and harness and secured one end up top, then dropped the rope and backed off to let Wynston climb in.

They headed back out and dropped from the rooftop to an alley. The power on the stealth generators was running slow, but by now they could walk out as civilians. Civilians in the wrong neighborhood, but he could talk his way out of any problems.

And problem there was almost instantly. A pair of Nikto heavies appeared out of nowhere, trailing them. Wynston picked up the pace; Hazard stayed close at his side. Up ahead two more burly Nikto materialized. They didn’t say anything. These weren’t Exchange men on duty. They were muggers who happened to belong to the Exchange.

They had gotten this far without a hitch, and now the problems came.

He knew what he and Hazard must look like: a short thin man with an even shorter alien girl, as far from a physical threat as they could get. Tourists. Neither his true Chiss face nor his holographic Human one could help them.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “Where does a man get a taxi out of here?”

“You’re not getting out of here any time soon,” said one of the Nikto.

“We don’t want any trouble,” said Wynston. “We’re a little turned around, that’s all. If you want a toll paid I’ll be happy to oblige.”

“We can take the toll and anything else off you. No point defending your lady.”

It was then that Wynston realized he had moved to put himself between the two front men and Hazard. Well, that was proper positioning for back to back operations if necessary. But there was cover available, some transformer boxes or something on the sidewalk. He folded one arm behind his back and pointed, telling her which way to go. Then he sharpened his voice’s edge and announced “We’re armed.”

The man laughed. “So are we.” Then in an instant blasters were out all around.

Wynston fired and rolled. Hazard sprinted along behind him to the designated cover spot on the sidewalk. Something hot nipped his leg on the way, but he formed up to kneeling next to her without slowing. The men who had come up behind them were his first priority; a gas canister rolled out toward them put them off balance for the time being.

Beside him Hazard was slouched out of line of sight of the distant Nikto. She fired grimly at the two closer ones. One was already on his knees, clutching his arm. All good and well, but Wynston didn’t want a full-scale engagement. He laid a hand on Hazard’s blaster barrel and raised a flash grenade from his belt pocket. They could both hear the steps of the further pair running up to engage. Hazard nodded. He threw. They both surged forward with eyes covered. By the time the flash grenade popped red against their eyelids they were already almost past their opponents.

The three men standing yelped. One of them still shot a hand out at Hazard, seizing her arm. She went down hard, but she dragged him with her. Wynston shot at the man’s center of mass and strode in to help Hazard up; Hazard, swift as a cat, rolled, twisted, brought her weight down on the man’s arm, and used her free foot for a snap kick to his face. He curled up, roaring. Hazard accepted Wynston’s hand up and they ran. His leg burned from the grazing wound. Not enough to slow him down.

Hazard kept up with him, clean and efficient in her movement, instant in responding to his directions when he called a turn. If anything he was the one slowing them down. He forced progress. Hazard stayed beside.

Their speeder was untouched at the big lot. With luck the neighborhood security hadn’t been notified to lock down yet. Wynston nodded sideways to the driver’s side to indicate Hazard’s place, then vaulted into the passenger’s seat. From there he started digging in the front compartment. He found some antiseptic and a bandage and got to work on his leg.

Hazard looked over. “What are – oh! Wynston, are you hurt?”

Their first complete sentence since they’d entered the Exchange building, he realized. “Nothing bad,” he said. “Just get us back.”

She got the car moving but kept eyeing him. “We didn’t realize–”

“I’m in good enough shape to run; that’s all that matters. Don’t worry.”

She took in a breath through her teeth as he pushed aside his cut pants to get to the blaster burn. “You ran on that?” she said.

“It’s what needed doing.”

“We’ll get you back soon,” she said in a quiet strange tone.

They left the car at the drop point and proceeded to the spaceport. Hazard stayed at Wynston’s side, keeping pace and paying probably a little more attention than she had to. He made a point of keeping a normal gait as they boarded the ship. Once there he opened one of the equipment lockers along the corridor and started stowing his equipment, along with the pilfered datacards. “Success,” he said.

“You’ll be all right?” she said behind him.

“Absolutely.” He finally faced her. “Well done, Hazard.”

She was hugging herself, looking at his leg. “It looks bad. You’re sure?”

“Wounds like this happen all the time.” It really wasn’t that bad. “I’ll tend it here, it’s no problem.”

If he didn’t know better he would say her lip quivered. “It is one thing to know it’s dangerous,” she said. “It is another…We don’t like to see you hurt.”

“I don’t enjoy it much myself. But we got through this. Thanks in no small part to you.”

She took a deep breath and managed a little smile. “We work well together, don’t we?”

Ordinarily he would call such a long period without verbal communication a failure. But here they’d worked as if…as if they’d known each other for ages. He couldn’t be angry at it, or begrudge the source. In a way it felt better than any mission he’d been on in years. “We do,” he said.

*

As simply as that, it was understood that Hazard was allowed to accompany Wynston on team missions. He couldn’t argue with her coordination. And, as she started building experiences with him – not Vector-with-him, but Hazard-with-him – conversation got easier.

She didn’t try to flirt much, which was a relief. She wasn’t bad-looking, and in truth he was coming to know her as someone distinct from Vector in a hundred small ways…but it was hard to argue consent for someone who had been taken to live in a hive mind. So he could leave this one woman alone. He would prefer to, really.

Meanwhile he could work with her. He couldn’t promote her, not yet, not for a long time. What she didn’t know, what even Vector hadn’t known the full extent of, was Wynston’s history with partners. Egrin, whom he had killed, Kaliyo, whom he should have, Vector, the best of them all and the one he hadn’t been able to save. He hadn’t taken a regular partner since then. Sometimes he was tempted to warn her mid-conversation. Other times, talking with her and especially working with her, he forgot to worry about it. What mattered was the future. The mission and the future. That’s how he built common ground with this person who knew so much of his past.

The Imperial model: If it gets the job done it’s acceptable. This can be applied to awful things, but also to good things, such as a new partner. If she gets the job done, on some level she must be okay.

@Bright,

I never know what to do with her character but I bet she's capable of warmth. And camaraderie with anyone assigned to her and hers

Aw, I like that Temple was a welcoming presence for Hazard. I can see how it would be easy for her to relate to somebody else who doesn’t get the kind of attention from Wynston she’d like.

What mattered was the future. The mission and the future. That’s how he built common ground with this person who knew so much of his past.

Really glad to see them in a better place and able to find a more comfortable working balance.

@frauzet,

“What if they are working?” he inquired, his voice no more than a whisper. “What if it would be much worse without the thorns? I just don’t want to take the risk.”

Oh, I like hearing Thorns’ reasoning for the tattoos. The real fear that lies beneath it. Very good.

@alaurin,

“He’s got these gorgeous green eyes, a wicked smile, tawny fur, and his voice is what a woman’s dreams are made of.” Stars, Tia……you just described Jorgan, she realized with a start.

Uh huh, sounds like somebody’s in for some interesting dreams of their own. It’s only fair, of course.

“Do you honestly think I’d jeopardize everything I’ve worked for to have one night of so-so sex with a Jedi?” Alarric rolled his eyes and stifled a chuckle. “Pass.”

“But you don’t deny sleeping with the woman, Lorilai Snowe?” The graying man looked up from the datapad to gauge the agent’s expression.

“That’s what I’m telling you, Keeper. Of course I slept with her. But I didn’t know what she was. Aren’t the Jedi supposed to be known for their purity?” He spat the word as if it were poison on the tongue. He never did trust any kind of order that demanded something from its members as ludicrous as chastity. “I mean, pretty woman comes on to you, you don’t ask her to levitate something first. My mind was elsewhere.”

Keeper studied his agent. Cipher 17 was the picture of arrogant professionalism. His clean shaven face barely suppressed a self-satisfied smirk. His one natural eye — blue, sparkling —watched the wall with disinterest. The other, a glowing red cybernetic, no doubt focused its gaze on the elder man, penetrating, analyzing. Wondering just how much trouble he was in and whether Keeper had bought any of it.

The agent’s story was believable, or at least offered a version Keeper could sell to the minister and anyone else who might inquire. But he was well aware of Cipher 17’s reputation as an operative with a lover in every port. It wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine the agent happily crossing “Jedi” off his list of conquests the moment he laid eyes on the woman.

“At least tell me you got something useful from the encounter.” Cipher 17 grinned like a teenage boy who’d just seen his first dirty holovid, and Keeper shook his head. “Something of benefit to the Empire, Cipher.”

“Give me some credit, Keeper” The agent’s smiled broadened. “I never walk away empty-handed.”

Two Weeks Earlier, Corellia

The woman at the bar was unlike any other Alarric had ever seen. She oozed a confidence that verged on sly arrogance. The waif sat swirling an amber colored drink, occasionally running her fingers through her short, hot pink hair. His eyes wandered elsewhere from time to time — a voluptuous Chiss here, a leggy Twi’lek there — until the woman did something that captured his full attention.

She had been trying to draw the bartender’s notice. Soundly ignored, the woman huffed in resignation before looking around and slowly raising her hand. With a flick of her wrist, a bottle of whatever she’d been drinking was in her hand. She poured herself another glass without hesitation and went back to sipping the drink as if nothing had happened.

Jedi. Had to be. The agent smiled to himself. This was not the standard issue, self-righteous variety. Not with hair like that. Not with the way she was downing — and stealing — drinks. He was contemplating the best way to approach when she turned in her seat and looked directly at him.

She narrowed her eyes at him, then smiled — his cue for an advance. He finished his drink and sauntered over to the bar. The woman whirled in her seat to look up at him with dark, serious eyes and completely cut off his introduction.

“Didn’t your mother tell you it’s impolite to stare?” Her voice was clear and light, honey on the tongue.

“Well, my mother’s dead,” he lied. He cleared his throat, unhappy with the way ‘mother’ sounded in the bland Republic accent he’d assumed. Six months undercover on Corellia and now the accent falters, he groused. But if she noticed at all, she didn’t show it.

Her face softened momentarily, but then her lips quirked up in a smirk. “Liar.”

He smiled to mask the blip of panic that temporarily rendered him speechless. It was an odd feeling for the agent. He was the one who caught people off guard, then pushed them until they bent to his will. The view from the other side of the table wasn’t so amusing.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she purred.

“Just cute?” He found his footing, deciding to push ahead with charm and seduction. He couldn’t beat her at mind games, but he could do what he did best. “I usually get better reviews than that.”

“I bet you do.” She stuck out her hand. “Lorilai Snowe.”

He licked his lips and smiled. “Ric Quizan.”

“Tell me, Ric. What brings you to Corellia? Business or pleasure?”

“Depends on the time of day,” he quipped. He’d hoped that would put an end to the query, but she continued to stare at him, waiting for him to continue. Beautiful and tenacious. He fought to steady himself. “It’s sort of hush-hush. Can’t really talk about it.”

She raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “SIS then. Must be interesting hopping around the galaxy playing spy.”

He took the drink from her hand and helped himself to a gulp. “It’s dirtier work than you’d think. A bit soulless sometimes. Lonely.”

“I’m sure you get by,” she said wryly. She poured another glass of Corellian whiskey and handed it to Ric. She kept the bottle for herself. “So Ric, I assume you know what I am?”

“Kind of obvious there, don’t you think?”

“Most people don’t notice.”

“I’m not most people. I don’t stay observant, I don’t stay alive. If you’re looking to hide it, you should be more careful.”

“Who said I was?” She continued with the haughty tone, but for the first time, she looked almost rattled. Her face flushed, and she didn’t meet his gaze. So he’d been correct. He really liked being right.

“Jedi aren’t known for their vices, Miss Snowe. You looked like a kid about to sneak a cookie before dinner. Imagine if someone saw,” he chided. “Wouldn’t you be in trouble.”

She continued to silently glare at her drink.

“Or maybe that’s exactly what you want.”

Finally, she faced him, the corners of her mouth pulling up just slightly. “And you know what I want now? After all of five minutes?”

Ric leaned in, one hand on the bar, the other on the edge of her seat, close enough to brush against her thigh. She drew a in a quiet breath at that, and he knew he had her. “I know exactly what you need.” He moved the pink hair behind her ear and dropped his voice to an achingly seductive whisper. “What’s more, I can give you exactly what you want.”

It took every bit of resolve to walk away from the gorgeous woman at the bar. To trust that he’d piqued her interest enough to follow him to his room upstairs. Ric slid past her, through the doors and toward the lifts in the lobby. He reached out to press the button, saw her diminuitive figure beside him out of the corner of his eye. Right on cue.

“Look at you, breaking all the rules.”

She smirked as they entered the lift and the doors slid closed. Alone in the closed space, the petite woman summoned the Force and pushed him against the wall. She slid her hands over his chest and stood on her toes to whisper in his ear. “I think you’ll find I’m full of surprises.”

Kira poked her head into the dormitory, “Come on! Master Kiwiicks really hates it when you’re late. Really. I’m not kidding.”

“A moment,” Vashutarl said.

“Tempting fate, Master,” Kira said, “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Vashutarl deleted the message she had been about to send and started over. It seemed communications with Ian were destined to cross in strange ways. Here she was, preparing to tell him she would have difficulty staying in contact, and he sends her a message saying the same thing in reverse. Even if she could tell him, he’d never believe what General Var Suthra said.

He’d worry. It was his nature. He had enough to deal with without being concerned for her. Besides, she was far from helpless.

She concentrated on breathing for a moment. Calm. The Jedi meditation techniques didn't work for her as well as kata forms, but they would have to do for now. She opened the file and reread it.

Dear Vashutarl,

I apologize for not sending this via holo, but they're shipping my unit out and a quick note is all I have time for. No one's said where. Probably someplace remote. The medic's giving us inoculations for every disease imaginable and a few they haven't discovered yet. For once I'm glad I've got a universal medi-port. A couple guys look like they kicked over a buzzret nest.

Enough avoiding it. I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye in person. I'm sorry I couldn't say it on holo. I wish I could tell you where my unit was going, but I can’t. I don't know when we'll be able to meet again. I promise I'll get you more information when I can. I promise to write or holo as soon and as often as possible. You can reply back to my frequency. I might not be able to retrieve messages right away in the field, but I will get them. I want to get them.

I’m holding you to your promise. Next time we see each other, teach me to dance.

Love, Ian

Dear Ian,

Apology accepted, even if it's not needed. You are a soldier of the Republic. I understand what duty requires. I would expect nothing less from you. Were fate a little different, you might receive a similar message from me. A Jedi's life is unpredictable.

I will message, of course, or holo when practical. I treasure our time together. I still have some tea left from our first meeting. I will brew some and think of you.

There is a proverb on my homeworld. "Only men laugh, only men weep, only men dance." I would be honored to teach you to dance.

Go with the Force.

Love always, Vashutarl

"Come on, they ain't payin' us by the hour," the lieutenant barked.

Kughel snapped the communicator shut, hiding Vashutarl's letter. He didn't need to read it. He memorized it by the end of the first day in hyperspace. He liked seeing her words, though, knowing she chose each one for him.

Efrel peeked over his shoulder, "Whatcha got?" she asked, "p*rn? Thought we were on blackout."

"Shut up," Kughel grumbled, "none of your business," he said, sliding the comm unit into his pocket.

"Girlfriend?" Efrel insisted, "Kughel's got a girlfriend, Kughel's got a girlfriend," she taunted.

"Like that's news," Kughel said.

"Shut it, people." Their lieutenant stood by the exit hatch on the troop transport. She banged a fist on the control panel's release. It opened, revealing a cityscape full of neon and machinery. "Welcome to Industrial Planet, boys and girls."

Efrel raised one hand, “‘Industrial Planet, sir? It looks like Nar Shaddaa, sir.”

“Hey! No speculation. I say it’s Industrial Planet then it’s Industrial Planet,” the Lieutenant ordered, “We’re still on blackout. Get your gear and move out.”

Kughel marched out with the rest of his squad. It could be any built-up planet. Even a gritty part of Coruscant. But somehow he knew Efrel was right. It was Nar Shaddaa. He wondered how he was going to explain that to Vashutarl.

Voslic stood from the table and grabbed his drink just as the waiter placed a large pie dish on the table. “Yall make sure and save me some of that meat pie ok?”

Tanno reached for the serving spoon. “Yessir Skipper sir. I’ll just spoon you up a portion right now. You can trust ole Tanno to…OWW!” A loud meaty smack preceded Tanno’s yelp of pain. He drew his hand back in time to see Elara brandishing the serving spoon.

Elara smiled sweetly to her husband. “I’LL save you a portion Major.”

Tanno sat back rubbing his wrist. “I’m wounded Skipper that the squad thinks so little of my intentions.”

“Yunn has seen you eat. The Major would starve if left up to you.” Yunn s*****red.

“Why you little…OK.” Tanno finally canceded.

Voslic shook his head and made his way across the cantina. He stepped up to the bar next to the army officer just as the bar tender was delivering his drink. Voslic threw a few credits on the bar. “I’ll cover that and can I get another one these?” He indicated his ale and watched the bartender nod and turn to get his drink.

“Major Halyard. Thank you for the drink.” The man turned to face Voslic and extended his hand. “I’m Major Sary, head dog robber (Aid-de-Camp) for the commandant and quickly coming to the conclusion that I need to request a transfer the hell of this rock.” He ended bitterly.

“Seems like a lot of the headquarters staff is leaving.” Voslic replied. “I learned this afternoon that Captain Norvel transferred this morning.”

Major Sary looked at Voslic guardedly. “So I heard. Last time I saw him he was returning to the headquarters building late last night. Then I’m told this morning he was transferred. I never saw a request and he never mentioned being unhappy here. Awful strange if you ask me. Highly irregular.”

“Good bit around here is highly irregular if you ask me. Doesn’t appear to be a lot of training going on for a training post.” Voslic added.

Sary took a long drink from his glass. “You don’t know the half of it. As units rotate through here, one rotates out after a training cycle, another unit rotates in to start it’s cycle. All but two of the units that are here now seem to just have sprung up from the ground one day. It’s usually a pretty big spectacle when a unit comes planet side. Usually a two or three day evolution. Not the last five battalions. One day they are not there, the next there they are.”

Voslic considered this as Sary indicated to the bartender he wanted another drink. Voslic absently dropped a few more credits on the bar. “Could they have come down somewhere else?”

Sary nodded. “Sure they could have. But where are the unit orders? The billeting requests? Training requests? Unit rosters?” He took another drink and shook his head. “And it’s the damnedest thing. Those five units keep to themselves and don’t talk to any one save their officers. Damned unusual.”

Voslic nodded in agreement. He had himself wondered about training requests. He had been led to believe that once Havoc was on the ground that he and his troops would be in high demand training groups according to their specialties. So far, he had received not one request.

The bartender placed another round on the bar for the two officers. Sary grabbed his and downed it quickly. He stood, none to steadily and put his hand on Voslic’s shoulder. “If I were you lad, I’d figure a way off this rock quick. Get you and yours clear, something wicked this way comes. Don’t know what, but I feel it.”

With that the major turned and staggered toward the door. Voslic watched him leave concluding that the major had been at the bottle already this afternoon. Had he, and Jorgen for that matter, not had the same feelings as the major, he could have shrugged off the man’s ranting as those of a drunk. Unfortunately, too many things did not add up.

He grabbed his drink and returned to the squad table and sat heavily. All eyes were upon him as he pulled his plate in front of him and began to methodically eat. He knew they wanted answers but they would have to wait until they returned to the barracks. By the time they returned, M1 should have everything set so they could speak freely.

As he ate he thought about what Major Sary had said and his own observations. He finished his plate and took a drink of his ale. He was sure that they were being watched. Hell someone had gone through the trouble of planting fourteen listening devices in the barracks so being spied on was a given. He suddenly became very conscious that the mood at the table was entirely too somber. A group of Marines drinking in a cantina should not look as though they just buried somebody.

Voslic leaned back and belched contentedly. At first, the members of Havoc looked at him curiously. Then the mood lightened and they all laughed. All except Elara. Voslic felt the icy gaze from his right and looked at his wife.

“What?”

“Really? You do that and you have to ask what?” Elara replied.

Tanno leaned over the table. “Better to burp and taste it than…Owww.”

“Shut-up Vik.” Jorgen laughed as he pulled his elbow clear of the Wequay’s ribs.

“Hey yall are the officers, not me.” He complained.

“Yunn believes it is Tanno’s turn to buy a round.” Yunn s*****red.

Tanno was about to protest, but thought better when he noted all eyes were upon him. “OK ok, I’m going.”

It wasn’t as festive as the unit had ever been, but Voslic was satisfied as they left the cantina. The warm air outside did nothing to clear his head, but he wasn’t that drunk either. As the unit started down the street toward their barracks Voslic held back a step or two until Tanno moved up alongside him.

“Don’t get caught.” Was all he said.

Tanno nodded. “Anything in particular I should be looking for Skipper?”

Voslic thought about that. He couldn’t tell him to look for anything out of the norm; nothing on Ord Mantel was normal right now as far he saw it. “Just poke around, see what you can dig up. Find a card game or something.”

Tanno nodded again and went through the door of the barracks. Voslic was about to follow him in but he stopped suddenly. He turned slowly and began to scan his surroundings. He looked hard into the deep shadows knowing that somewhere close, something was staring back.

His senses were hyper alert and he felt Elara move up next to him. Her hand on his shoulder felt reassuring. “Voslic, what is it Darling?”

“Something’s out there. Right now. Watching, waiting.”

He felt Elara shiver. “I know, I can feel it. It’s like a sudden dread just washed over the area.”

Voslic took a deep breath and turned. He slipped his arm around Elara’s waist. “Come on, let’s rack out. We’ll feel better in the morning

Outside the west gate of Fort Garnik in the deep shadows of a rock formation, yellowish red eyes watch as the couple entered the barracks. Hatred seethed through the taught body. Hatred not for the man, no never him. Not even for the woman or, the body and features relaxed, the baby the woman carried. The body went rigid again as hatred yet again seethed through. The hatred was for circumstances, events and situations that had brought this on.

Methic walked into his bedroom and stripped off his combat uniform. He had a formal meeting with the Republic Senate in three hours and he didn't want to be in sweaty, grimy combat gear when he met them. After helping kill the Sith Emperor there wasn't much of a chance that the Empire would take him back; his only choice was to be accepted by the Republic, and he needed to make a good impression.

Dressed only in a black bodysuit, Methic went through his closet, scowling. He could find nothing appropriate to wear for a meeting with the Republic.

"Vette," he called. "Vette!"

She walked in the room, dressed in a formal dark green dress. She placed her hands on her hips and gave him a look.

"What?"

"Look at my closet," he grumbled. "I have nothing to wear!"

Vette strode over to him and reached into the closet, pulling out several different outfits. Each of them was worse than the last; Methic winced at his younger self's fashion sense. He placed a hand on Vette's shoulder.

"You're the fashion genius," he said, "tell me; why did I always wear shoulder pads so big they'd prevent me getting in a door?"

Vette grinned. "You were silly."

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

Finally deciding on a gray-and-black armored uniform with a black cape, and no mask, Methic and Vette left the ship together. It was the first time Methic or any of his crew, save Jaesa, had been on Coruscant; Pierce and Quinn were shuffling their feet uncomfortably. A squad of Republic soldiers entered the hangar, rifles at guard position.

"Emperor's Wrath and crew," the lead soldier said, "you are to come with us. You will be taken to the Senate tower effective immediately."

Methic nodded, keeping his hands safely away from his lightsabers. "As you say."

Nalenne had been in the blanket fort for three days.

The fort had developed pillow tunnels out in the directions of the refresher and pantry, giving it amenities comparable to those of the rest of the ship; the fact remained, Nalenne had been in the blanket fort for three days.

"Are you sure you don't want to watch a holovid?" Jaesa asked.

"What's the point?" came Nalenne's voice.

"Action, adventure, and eye candy?" suggested Vette.

"Go away."

Vette and Jaesa exchanged glances.

Pierce slowed in passing to step over the fort's corridor-blocking tentacle. "She going to get back in action anytime soon?" he said.

"Her husband died," said Jaesa. "Give her some space."

"Her husband had it coming, and it's boring 'round here when all she's doing is campaigning for a minor in civil engineering. I say getting back to generalized revenge like we did right after can only be a good thing."

"It's no fun without him," yelled Nalenne. "Also I'm out of ice cream."

"There's my cue," said Pierce, and strode off.

"Nalenne?" said Vette. "You still in there?"

A black-with-silver-sparkles plush blanket folded away from a Scarlet Nexu print quilt. Nalenne peeked out. "What?"

"Not to rain on the missing-Quinn pity party, but can I just make the reminder here?"

Nalenne scrubbed at her eyes. "What's that?"

"Don't stab the messenger or anything, but you did kill him."

Nalenne's lip quivered. "I didn't think that meant I was going to lose him."

"He lost himself," Vette said patiently. "His call, his amateurish death trap, his fault."

Nalenne retreated a little. "Would you believe, for the first time ever he was pushing for more violence than me? I would've killed for him to do that once in a while! ...I guess I did. He screwed it up!"

"We could watch some Duranium Man," offered Jaesa. "Or, you know, Ultraguy, if you want to root for him dying the whole time."

"Do we have any Captain Kaas?" said Nalenne.

"Well, we could download some–"

"Get the one where Pegge Caart razes Corellia by herself because stupid Captain Kaas was too busy embedded in the ocean floor to do anything useful." Nalenne sniffled. "She never got to see him again. Because he's stupid. And what's taking Pierce so long? We'd better have ice cream."

Sorry, but when I hear the old story about how they removed killing-Quinn from the beta because players kept surprising and dismaying themselves with their ability to kill him, all I can think of is Nalenne’s “I hadn’t thought that far” face.

As for Nalenne herself, her grieving process is uneven to say the least. I've never really written it because it can be safely assumed to be a lopsided combination of murder and ice cream overeating.

5 BTC

“Hey, bot’uhn. I was starting to think you wouldn’t wake up.”

“I’m moving, hsin’bo,” grumbled seven-year-old Calline from the refresher doorway. Her big brother flashed her his thousand-watt grin and trotted back to the boys’ bedroom. Calline trudged out to the kitchen where her big sister Caevarl, neat in her maid’s uniform, was busy preparing lunch.

Caevarl smiled. She smiled any time there wasn’t a disaster actively in progress. “Morning, sleepyhead. You get enough rest?”

“Yeah. Doing great!” Calline yawned. She had stayed up reading under the blankets, which Caevarl almost certainly knew, but they knew better than to make a big deal of it with Pippa or Mimma around. “Ready and raring to go.” She’d picked up that Basic phrase from a holovid she had watched just a few days ago.

Mimma was still sleeping; Pippa was scanning the morning’s headlines on a console popup from the counter. He nodded silent greeting and went on reading. Big brother reemerged from his room carrying a heavy canvas messenger bag covered in stickers of exotic things and places. He put a hand in to raise one freshly patched-up corner for Calline’s examination. “One good-as-new-bag, on the condition that you don’t let wild animals chew on it this time.”

“There weren’t any wild animals, hsin’bo.”

“No, but that’s what you say to make it look good.” He winked and turned away.

Pippa was just collapsing the holoscreen back into the counter. He stood and fixed hsin’bo with a heavy stare. “You’ll make it to work on time this afternoon?” he said in Cheunh.

The adolescent looked straight across to address his father’s chin. “Yes, Father.” Also in Cheunh. It might have been a neutral check-in once, but it hadn’t been for a long time. Lately at least Calline knew it had something to do with one of the women at her brother’s after-school job. The details were too weird to think about.

But Pippa had turned away and her hsin’bo recovered his smile. “Thank you for lunch,” he told Caevarl, palming one of the neatly wrapped packages from the counter and tucking it into his already well-stuffed bag. Then suddenly he went up on his toes and hugged her, whispering something in her ear.

Whatever it was, she pulled away glowing. “Well, thank you,” she said.

He beamed back at her. Then he turned to Calline. “Ready to go?”

“Ready when you are, slowpoke.” She stuck out her tongue.

The road to school was narrow but peaceful. She chattered as she usually did while they walked, telling him about the Basic novel she’d been reading; he followed along, throwing in the occasional encouraging remark. Mostly he liked to listen, which worked out nicely for her.

He stopped at an intersection. “Oh. It occurs to me I forgot to pick up the magnet dust I’ll need at work tonight. I’ll run down to Jaco’s and get that now. You go on ahead.”

“Don’t be late,” she said.

“Hey, I already promised once.” And with that he hugged her, tighter than he ever did, and in her ear he whispered “Love you. Don’t ever forget how great you are.”

“Hey,” she said, bouncing back from the contact, a little confused, a little flattered. “Thanks.”

He grinned. “Rock that astrography test today.”

“Planning on it.”

She didn’t see him at school, which wasn’t too surprising; his year studied one building over. She didn’t see him on the way home, which was expected; he had work down at the factory. She didn’t see him over supper, which was all right, but she also didn’t see him when he was due home after his shift.

Caevarl noticed, too. Mimma and Pippa were still out when she emerged from the girls’ room some time after supper, looking worried. “Have you seen–”

“No,” said Calline from her armchair, “has he called?”

“No. Is he in his room?”

“Just Cerruel and Cruosol there.”

Caevarl went anyway to check. Calline closed behind her shoulder as they stepped in, picking their way over Cruosol’s block fortress, and stepped up on the frame to peer at the highest bunk.

It had five little stacks on it, neatly arranged. At a glance it seemed to be everything hsin’bo could call his own. The pile at the end was small, just a couple of action figures and a glassed-in holodisplay of a Chiss ice cat tamer. The next one was mostly just folded clothes and a couple of other toys, better suited to Cerruel than Cruosol. The one after that had a couple of datacards that Calline recognized as favorite holovids, along with his datapad, the one he should have carried to school, the one three times better than the household runner-up that Calline used. The one after that was a little sewing kit and a colorful scarf. At the end was an assortment of household things, nothing a child would want, though their parents might get some use out of it.

“He should have taken this to school,” Calline said, still staring at the datapad. Her mouth seemed to move very slowly.

“Callie,” Caevarl said, biting her lip. “Step away.”

Calline remembered something. “What did he say to you this morning?”

“He said ‘love you.’” Caevarl wasn’t smiling.

Calline met her sister’s eyes. The meaning piling up with those neat stacks on the bed was something she couldn’t look at straight on, not until she did something first. “We have to find him.”

Wynston drafted two dozen goodbye notes and ended up deleting all of them, opting instead for total disappearance. Unfortunately for the Hannacs, Wynston is faster than Caevarl, a better planner than Calline, more cunning than their parents, and most importantly, determined to disappear. They don’t find him. That hug was all the goodbye the sisters got.

Calline grows up to be a lot less talkative than this.

Oh, and Wynston is very nearly eleven here. Chiss mature early.

Cheunh:

Bot’uhn: “little lump”

Hsin’bo: an affectionate shortening of “big brother”

I use this translator for baseline vocabulary but stir in my own syntax as it pleases me (I claim a lot of leeway in diminutives).

I realized while writing this that Chiss naming can get practically Russian, especially if you introduce nicknames – most of Wynston’s family has a more than single syllable core name, lending itself to shortening. Thus we get Hannac’alline’luor, Calline, Callie, bot’uhn, and that's just one of the seven family members.

@frauzet:

“What if they are working?” he inquired, his voice no more than a whisper. “What if it would be much worse without the thorns? I just don’t want to take the risk.”

As for Tia, realizing she's thinking of Jorgan that way was a shock.......after all, she's the one who's suppose to be getting to him, not the other way around!

@Bright: I liked seeing Wynston and Hazard in the field together. I think it was good for them both. Also, I can definitely picture that kind of reaction with Nalenne and thought it was very entertaining to read, having had similar thoughts regarding you know who after you know what. Then, awww, *sniff* poor Calline......sad to find her brother gone.

@alaurin, I really liked the fake holocall to loudly establish her status. Here's to hiding in plain sight.

@marissalf: Oh, new character!!! I liked it......very intriguing! I read the part on Tumblr and was hoping you would write more.

@alaurin,

Uh huh, sounds like somebody’s in for some interesting dreams of their own. It’s only fair, of course.

@Striges: Awwww, squeeee!!! I got the warm fuzzies with Ian and Vashutarl! That last part got me a little worried though......suspense is a killer!

Outside the west gate of Fort Garnik in the deep shadows of a rock formation, yellowish red eyes watch as the couple entered the barracks. Hatred seethed through the taught body. Hatred not for the man, no never him. Not even for the woman or, the body and features relaxed, the baby the woman carried. The body went rigid again as hatred yet again seethed through. The hatred was for circumstances, events and situations that had brought this on.

"You're the fashion genius," he said, "tell me; why did I always wear shoulder pads so big they'd prevent me getting in a door?"

 

Vette grinned. "You were silly."

Aric and Elara entered Val’s hanger dressed in civilian clothing. As soon as they’d landed on Nar Shaddaa, Elara went to their ship and filled Aric in on the call from Tia’s sister, Kat. They contacted General Garza and were set to meet an SIS agent, Jonas Balkar, in the Slippery Slopes cantina on the Promenade. Aric was hoping Tia’s sister would show up before he and Elara had to leave for their meeting.

“Hey, guys,” Val called out when they boarded, “Glad you made it. Kat just called and she’s on her way.”

“Good,” Aric nodded, “We have to meet with an SIS agent on the Promenade in about an hour.”

“Yeah, we have a delivery to make,” Val sighed, “and I’ll be glad to see that thing go! I’m worried about Kat though, she looked pretty shaken.”

“Elara mentioned something about that,” Aric replied, “and that she wanted to get in touch with Sergeant Vleska.”

“I think it’s ok to call her Tia, Aric…….no need to be formal here. As for getting in touch with her, I’m not sure how we’re going to arrange that,” Val shrugged as they heard someone coming up the ramp, “That must be Kat.”

Kat and Mako boarded Val’s ship and as soon as Kat spotted Aric, she immediately charged a blaster and pinned him to the wall by the neck before most of them could react, her speed and the element of surprise more than making up for her size disadvantage. Aric managed to get his sidearm out and had it pressed to Kat’s side. However, when Aric felt sharp claws at his throat and a blaster to his head, he knew they were locked in a deadly stalemate. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Elara and Corso with weapons out, then he turned his attention back to Tia’s sister. He looked down into Kat’s amber eyes and saw cold determination in them, but had no idea what he could’ve done to earn that. For a long, frighteningly intense moment, the only sound that could be heard was the whine of Kat and Aric’s blasters.

“Kat,” Mako spoke up softly, unable to stand the tension and worried things would get ugly fast.....the large tawny Cathar didn't look like the type to back down, “Think about it…..he’s on your friend’s ship. I really don’t think he’s an enemy.”

“Dammit Kat,” Val cried, finally recovering from her initial shock, “What the hell are you doing?! That is Captain Aric Jorgan of Republic Spec Forces…….he’s Tia’s CO! Aric, please…..don’t hurt her.”

“She’s the one who attacked me!” Aric snapped, his attention never wavering from the cream colored Cathar in front of him.

“Who is Prince Shange to you?” Kat demanded, ignoring Mako and Val.

“Nothing,” Aric growled, “What the hell does that crackpot radical got to do with anything? He’s been dead for twenty years!”

“Sorry,” Kat muttered, letting Jorgan go as she holstered her blaster, “After yesterday, I’m having some trust issues with members of our species.”

“Stars Aric,” Risha snickered, “First Tia breaks your nose, now her sister’s holding a blaster to your head…..you really have a way with the ladies, don’t you?!”

“What’s up with you, Kat?” Val asked, still shocked her friend would just attack someone for no apparent reason, “It’s not like you to go for someone’s throat like that. I mean Aric’s not exactly Mister Congeniality, but you just met him….most people can usually last at least five minutes before wanting to shoot him.”

“Thanks, Val,” Aric snorted, holstering his sidearm, but not taking his eyes off Kat, “You’re too kind…..really.”

“Come on, let’s go into the rec room,” Val nodded, seeing how tense both Kat and Aric still were.

Val, Corso, Risha, Mako, and Elara all sat, Aric stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, carefully watching the young woman, who looked so similar to her sister, as she anxiously ran her fingers through her reddish brown hair while she paced in the middle of the room.

“Okay, what gives, Kat?” Val eyed her friend, “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Trouble,” Kat finally replied, “and lots of it. Where’s Tia?”

Val and Aric exchanged a look, but Val trusted her friend and she was Tia’s sister, “Tia’s deep undercover. It was a risky decision she made when her original squad defected…….she followed them and has been working to bring them down from the inside.”

“Are you frakking kidding me?!” Kat swore, “What the void was she thinking?! Never mind…..how do you get in touch with her?”

“I’m afraid I’m not joking, Kat,” Val sighed, “and we have no way to contact her……she’s the one who makes contact by sending me heavily encrypted messages.”

“Well, we’re on neutral ground now,” Kat nodded, understanding the dangerous situation her littermate had gotten herself into, “and this is our turf……we need find a way to meet with her and the sooner, the better!”

“What the hell is going on?” Aric demanded, “You said there was trouble, attacked me on sight, and mentioned Shange.”

Now it was Kat who exchanged a look with Mako. She took a deep breath and resumed pacing as she began, “Well, as you know, Val, I’m in the Great Hunt…….oh yes, Jorgan, your disapproval is duly noted,” she glared at Aric when he growled.

“How can you work for the Mandalorians after what they did to our people?!” he retorted, his voice heavy with disgust.

“I’m not working for them, jacka**,” Kat shot back, “I’m using their ties with the Empire……it’s another story, but in short, another friend of ours was kidnapped by Imperial slavers. I’m trying to find her.”

“He doesn’t know the situation, Kat,” Val told her friend, “I’ll explain it to him later…..just please, go on.”

“It’s simple, one target, two hunters,” Kat explained, “My task is to eliminate the target and my competition and no, Captain Crank, I won’t kill any Republic targets……I may not have any official ties with them anymore, but I still consider them allies. Anyways, I took out my first target, an Imperial Moff in fact, and was facing my opponent, Murghir, who was an older Cathar female with a heavy old world accent.”

Kat stopped pacing and looked Val in the eye, “She knew who I was, Val, and she used my name…..my real name!”

“Oh Kat!” Val gasped, “How is that possible?”

“She was there that day,” Kat growled, “she was in on it and her littermate, Ekaterina, was the nanny!”

Corso, Risha, Aric, and Elara looked on in confusion, then once again, Aric spoke up, “What’s your real name?”

“You trust them, Val?” Kat ignored Aric, concentrating on her friend, “with my life and possibly Tia’s?”

“Yes, Kat,” Val assured her.

Kat sighed, and looked at Aric, knowing he would likely recognize her family name, “My name is Katrynka…….Katrynka Valeskanovaya.”

Aric’s face mirrored his shock, “How’s that possible? I was at the academy when that happened, but it was all over every news source. Your whole family was taken out in the matter of hours and they weren’t the only ones. A week later, another prominent bloodline was eliminated. People had their suspicions it was another clan behind the attacks, but there was no evidence.”

“Tia and I weren’t with my parents that day, only our third littermate, Jakob,” Kat explained, “Tia had gotten sick the night before and I’d gotten caught sneaking out with a guy, so my parents hired a nanny to keep an eye on us while they took Jakob with them on the tour. The nanny wasn’t watching us that well and I was watching the HoloVid when the story broke about the explosion. I went to tell Tia when I caught the nanny trying to kill her, she was sedating Tia…..an overdose. I distracted her enough for Tia to pull the injector out of her leg and stick the nanny with it. I slit her throat, we grabbed a few things and ran……I was half dragging my drugged sister out of the building when it exploded. We managed to lose ourselves on the streets of Nar Shaddaa and the next day, Tia and I were declared dead.”

“Then how did this Murghir know who you were?” Elara asked.

“Apparently, she found a story that mentioned our bodies were never found and that there was a blurred image of two girls running out of the building as it blew,” Kat sighed, “There were pictures of my family all over the place with those stories and I happen to look exactly like my mother. The suspicions were correct, Aric. Murghir is of Shange’s bloodline and she contacted her clan after figuring out who I was. She also told them that Tia might be alive as well, which is really bad…….Tia will be easy for them to find.”

“Why is that?” Corso wondered, “What would make her so easy to find?”

“Her coloring,” Aric answered, worry for her settling cold in his stomach, “Most Cathar are some shade of yellow, brown, or orange. Kat’s cream coloring isn’t as common, but not nearly as rare as Tia’s silvery fur.”

“Exactly,” Kat confirmed, “Now, I dealt with Murghir, but she’d already gotten word out.”

“Clan justice?” Aric wondered.

“Yes,” Kat whispered, her voice cracking a little.

“It’s alright Kat,” Mako assured her friend, “You ended it fast in the end.”

“What is Clan Justice?” Corso asked.

Aric and Kat caught each other’s eye, the former seeing the sad look in the latter’s eyes and knew the toll it took on her to carry out that task, “It’s been a while since my family has had ties with the old world, but one of the strictest laws was that you never betray your own kind. Murghir murdered Kat’s family and it was up to her to dispense Clan Justice and leave the body as a message to the rest…..it’s a very slow, painful death.”

“I couldn’t drag it out,” Kat admitted, looking down, “I know you see me as a dirty bounty hunter, but I don’t kill people unless I have to and I never torture anyone. I tried to honor my family, but in the end, it wasn’t worth my soul and I made it quick.”

“Were you able to get anything out of her before she died?” Aric asked.

“I managed to find out what I’d suspected as a child, my father and his brother weren’t really diplomats like my mother…….they were SIS. That’s probably why Tia has done so well in the military and has been able to go undercover behind enemy lines……it’s in her blood. Also, apparently Shange wasn’t executed. He’s in some prison on Belsavis and that's why his clan took out my family and that other bloodline. They wanted to rise up the Elder ranks so they get the decision overturned and free Shange. I’m afraid that’s all I know……I had to torture Murghir for what little information I’ve given you,” Kat replied, “and I snapped when she mentioned the danger to Tia and that she was the one who killed my parents and Jakob. I was done playing at that point and wanted her dead……I know that was careless, but like I said, I’m not one to torture people.”

“It’s alright, Kat,” Val hugged her friend, “You did what you had to do for your sister and we have a start. Now we just need to get information about Shange’s clan and be on the lookout.”

“Should we contact General Garza, sir?” Elara asked.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Aric sighed, “We might need to extract her if she’s in that much danger.”

“No,” Kat insisted, “For one thing, I don’t know where Shange’s clan has ties. Also, her cover as a defector to the Empire might actually be in her favor……think about it…..the whole reason behind this was that Shange wanted to ally with the Imperials and our clan was one of the opposition. The last place they’d think to look for Tia would be in the service of the Empire.”

“But what if they figure it out and try to ambush her?” Aric growled, starting to pace himself, “I won’t risk her life like that…..she’s already risking it enough!”

“Not if we can get word to her to be on the lookout,” Kat retorted, then she actually smiled as realization dawned, it looks like the good Captain has a thing for my sister, “Trust me, Tia can take care of herself. After Zyra was taken when we were sixteen, Tia vowed never to let anyone get the best of her in a fight again. She studied and practiced melee combat…..extensively. You really should consider yourself lucky that she merely broke your nose, Aric…….she could have easily done much worse.”

“Kat’s right, Aric,” Val nodded, “Tia always felt like it was her fault Zyra was taken. We tried to reassure her that no sixteen year old girl could’ve defeated two thugs, whose job it was to physically intimidate people. Tia still felt responsible and her sole focus for months was to hone herself into a weapon……and that was before she had military training. As long as we can get word to her, she’ll be ready.”

“And trust me,” Kat insisted, “Tia’s more vengeful than I am……she won’t have any trouble dealing with our family’s enemies.”

“Wait, Val,” Risha spoke up, remembering something, “Didn’t you tell us that the day your parents were killed, you went to the SIS and ended up being helped by a dark grey male Cathar?”

“Agent Mikhail,” Val nodded and turned to Kat, immediately seeing the recognition on her friend’s face.

“That was my uncle,” Kat nodded, “I know he was also killed that same day as my parents and Jakob, but I never found the details of it and I didn’t think to ask Murghir.”

“General Garza set up a meeting with an SIS agent,” Aric told them, “Our ‘official’ mission here is to assist this agent with an SIS operation. Maybe we can get some personal information out of this agent when the official mission is over. Val, Corso mentioned that you needed some information relating to your family from them and I’d planned to see what we could about that, but maybe we can have Kat talk with him as well.”

“That’s actually a good idea, Aric,” Val agreed, “But first, let’s focus on finding a way to meet with Tia so we can let her know about this new threat.”

“Sir,” Elara interrupted, “We have to get going.”

Aric glanced at the time, “Dammit, we do. We’ll have to continue this discussion later.”

“Yeah, Mako and I have to head out to the Promenade to meet our contact soon,” Kat agreed, “Let me know if you figure out a way to meet with Tia.”

“We’ll do that,” Aric nodded, “Let us know if you spot any of Shange’s clan.”

“I will,” Kat assured him, “and I’m sorry about attacking you earlier…….I just saw an armed Cathar and reacted.”

“Well, after what you just told us, you had good reason,” Aric told her, “I might’ve done the same in your position.”

Aric and Kat exchanged contact information and he left with Elara to meet with Balkar. As soon as they were gone, Kat turned to her old friend, “So, you going to fill me in on why my sister is doing something so stupid? Also, why did she break Aric’s nose when it’s obvious he cares about her?”

“It’s a long story, Kat,” Val smiled, “and I don’t think he even realizes he has feelings for her yet. Come on, Corso and I are headed to the Promenade and I’ll fill you in on the way there.”

Methic, Pierce, Quinn, Jaesa, Vette, Broonmark, and Kaliyo entered the Senate plaza in style. There was silence as the politicians, hangers-on, and civilians gathered for the event watched the Republic's former Enemy Number One and his crew walk down the lane, armed and unfettered. At the other end of the plaza, standing at the grand entryway to the Senate tower proper, was Jasin. His crew stood a short distance away. Methic extended his hand to Jasin

"Welcome to Coruscant, brother," Jasin said, accepting Methic's hand in a firm shake. "Welcome to all of you. If you'll follow me, the Supreme Chancellor is waiting."

Methic followed Jasin nervously into the Senate chamber. They reached the Rotunda, the giant room where the Senators met for their sessions. Jasin led Methic and his crew into one of the levitating pods that carried them into the center of the plaza, a short distance from the Supreme Chancellor's podium. Methic looked around, surprised at all the faces he recognized. Merok and his crew sat in another pod a short distance away, along with Talos Drellik and Andronikos Revel. Merok traded glances with Kaliyo briefly and then looked back to the Chancellor.

Dha and his crew stood at one of the observation platforms, watching the proceedings in silence along with Dankin, the smuggler who had caused the Empire so much trouble. Prudii and Havoc Squad stood at attention across the room at the plaza's main observation blister, carefully guarding from any terrorists seeking to impose upon the meeting. Jasin, Gareb, and their crews stood with Grand Master Satele Shan and the other Jedi in a podium near the Chancellor's dais. Even several Imperial Moffs–Phennir and Regus, most surprisingly–were in attendance.

"Welcome, all," Chancellor Saresh said. "This is a momentous day in the history of the galaxy. Today, our two governments–Empire and Republic–become one Galactic Republic. There has been much strife in working towards this day, but always there have been those on both sides who desired peace. That we are finally able to accomplish it speaks much of our heroes–" she waved her hands across the rotunda, "–the heroes of both sides! It is because of you all that we stand in this room together.

"With this merging comes a prospect that many would consider dangerous; the merging of our militaries. There are those of you who would say, it cannot be done. That it would be impossible for those who had fought so bitterly to now work together for peace! But I say to you now, it is not. Already Moff Regus and Supreme Commander Malcom have promised to work together as co-commanders of the new Republic Army. Our units have worked together well in the past; on Sebaddon, when we fought the Hex droids, and on Hoth, when we fought the White Maw pirates. Together, we can make a difference. Commander Malcom?"

The dark-skinned wall of a man stood. "To all my fellow soldiers of the Republic," he began, "I know many of you hold personal grudges toward the Imperial soldiers you fought. I know I did." He leaned forward on his podium. "But this is a necessary change, and you must remember–the Imperial soldiers were just doing what they signed on to do, the same way you did. They served their government loyally, as you did. I do not want any derogatory comments to be pointed at the Imperial soldiers from hereon out. They're with us, now."

Moff Regus stood. "That goes for my Imperial soldiers, as well. The Republic forces served with honor against us, and they showed no wrongdoing in their fight against us; they were just the enemy at the time. Now they are not. You will serve without complaint alongside your new allies. You will treat them as you would a fellow Imperial. If you cannot do so, you may leave the military, willingly or dishonorably."

Malcom and Regus sat, and Saresh resumed speaking. "In accordance for our need of a new law enforcement to go along with this peacetime, Agent Merok, formerly of both Imperial Intelligence and the Republic Strategic Investigation Service, has proposed a solution."

Merok stood. "I propose a two-pronged force for galactic law enforcement. First, the SIS and the remnants of Imperial Intelligence would be merged together and kept as an intelligence agency for matters of military emergency. Secondly, for more mundane matters, I will personally be forming a Galactic Investigation Agency here on Coruscant. I already have volunteers to head divisions on other planets." He gestured to Malavai Quinn, standing behind Methic. "Admiral Quinn has offered to run the Outer Rim division." He turned to Saresh. "That is all for now, ma'am."

Saresh continued, "And the Mandalorians have their own statement to make."

Dha stepped forward and switched on his helmet's audio amplifier, so his voice resounded through the rotunda.

"The Mandalorians are, by command of the Mandalore, no longer at war with the Republic. Our allegiance to the Sith Empire has been reneged, and no more will we serve under a Sith. We've learned our lesson on that account. We will not be joining in the Republic, however; we choose to remain neutral in our own systems. Know, however, that we are here to help. Like Canderous Ordo was, we will be here to help should the Sith ever return."

Saresh nodded. "And pertaining to the heroes of the hour–the Jedi and the Emperor's Wrath. Grand Master Shan has already made it clear to me that there is a place for the former Wrath in the Jedi Order should he so desire one. And this goes for any Sith willing to put aside their ways of following the dark side. Those who do not will be put in protective custody to ensure that they do not seek to reform the Empire against us." Saresh took in a deep breath. "This is it. The moment we've worked toward for half a century has finally arrived; peace has come. Go forth and take advantage of that peace. May the Force be with you all."

In the following hours, during which countless Republic officers and representatives approached Methic to offer him their thanks and congratulations, there was an almost surreal feeling about the Senate tower. It was hard to believe; with peace finally on the rise, and war over, everything had come together all at once. Methic finally found his way out of the tower and stood alone in the plaza, looking up at the stars. Stepping over to the railing, he removed his black cape and let it fall over the side.

At last, his job was done.

I'll explain Kaliyo being in Methic's crew in a later entry...

@marissalf, I like Alarric already.

He never did trust any kind of order that demanded something from its members as ludicrous as chastity. "I mean, pretty woman comes on to you, you don’t ask her to levitate something first. My mind was elsewhere."

@Striges, I love that letters get read and reread and saved and treasured. Vashutarl is so formal, so traditional in the shape of her thoughts, and Kughel is so aware of being hemmed in by circumstance - and anxious to assure her that she's still valued. <3

@sthrift, the levity Voslic forces to keep up appearances is kind of creepy. Just like everything about that base right now.

@YoshiRaphElan, I sympathize with Methic's pain over limited costuming options. Thank the stars for the cartel market. As for Regus, his forceful laydown of orders is just what I would expect from an Imp military leader. And then back to Methic - what a great ending for a LS Wrath.

@Xakthul, thanks for the compliment! Nalenne swings back to enthusiastic mayhem within the week, but yeah, some days are harder than others.

@alaurin, I like the way you build a sort of galactic community of Cathar...they all seem to know the major events among their people and can sometimes identify by reputation.

In the years after Wynston runs away, Calline steps into her hsin'bo's shoes, taking over as constructive meddler, a role appreciated by her mother and, much later, her father. Wynston goes on to plenty of opportunities for practicing goodbyes and abandonments. Calline has assorted experiences that leave her less inclined to talk. Wynston has assorted experiences that temper his smile, from the "thousand-watt grin" to the "crooked smile" he springs for the rest of his life. Calline aces her astrography (like geography, but galactic) studies in preparation to go seeking in the galaxy she's viewed and read so much about. Wynston works to prove that he can be a good enough son - not to his father, who found him wanting ever since his big brother died and left him the eldest son, but to the Empire, where cunning problem-solving is recognized as merit, not as flippant showmanship. Calline names her ship for the lost literary boy who never grew up. Wynston denies he was ever a child.

Caevarl, the last of the three eldest Hannac children, continues being the nurturing homebody she's always been. She has the patience to survive any hardship with quiet grace, and she does so, supporting her parents even when they won't say they need support. She was and always will be the family's warm heart.

Cerruel and Cruosol, the babies of the family, grow up knowing no brothers but each other. Cerruel is raucous and Cruosol sly, Cerruel driven and Cruosol lazy and prone to cheating. Pippa and Mimma come down hard on them both, trying desperately to form sons they can be proud of. They will never be wholly satisfied with the result.

Well, I appear to be stuck in depressing mode.

Anyway, Calline grows up and, upon discovering a knack for combat, becomes a mercenary and bounty hunter. She remains on affectionate terms with her family back home. Wynston grows up and saves the galaxy a few times. He doesn't write home about it. But, you know, "galaxy" includes his family, so in a roundabout way he's still helping.

@Bright: The Hazard Files: Loving this. I hate to say it, but watching Wynston squirm is somewhat interesting, and the exchange in the elevator was fantastic! Of course, the final lines in her convo with Crenzo had me laughing. I loved how he and Hazard worked so well together, and how that sort of breaks the ice. I've come to see Wynston as being comfortable with efficiency, thus it makes sense he'd become comfortable with her in my eyes. Well done, as always!

Nalenne's pity party was cracking me up. I remember when you could kill Quinn. I miss those days.

I loved the interaction between younger Wynston and a now quiet Calline. And the way he said good by eto his siblings but not his parents was a great way to show how much he cared for them

@Alaurin: Shopping! Tia deserved a little relaxation time. And it looks like she let Jorgan get into her head when she was teasing him. HA!

@Frauzet: YES! Thorns action! Ok, it was short, but I LOVED it! That whole idea when someone points out how stupid a superstition seems, but especially in Thorns line of work "But what if it could be worse..." is always an important argument! Nicely done!

@Marissalf: Ok, Alarric seems like a self important sleeze... is it wrong that I like him? Loved how you set up his final pick up line. And Keeper always makes me happy!

@Striges: I loved the way you flip-flopped the pov between letters there! That was awesome!

@Sthrift: Man, I am really enjoying this storyline you got going. The breaking of the mood, the interaction between the unit, it's all great stuff. And the set up for what's waiting in the shadows, perfect. Love it!

@Yoshi:

"tell me; why did I always wear shoulder pads so big they'd prevent me getting in a door?"

HAHAHAH! Nice, I always wondered that myself. I put my Warrior in a lvl 20 robe for his entire life.

Crap! out of time! More to come!

'My Lord, permission to enter?'

'Permission granted,' the Sith allows with a shadow of a smile. Calling for him to enter after his distinctive knock would be enough permission for most.

She glances at Quinn as he walks in, the door closing behind him softly. She takes him in quickly: standard posture, usual disapproving expression, neat shirt, clothes in the standard Imperial style though very well made, his hands behind his back and his heart curiously racing. She returns her gaze to the mirror and presses the Sith robes she was holding closer to her body. She turns one way and the other, considering all angles literally and politically. The Dark Council summoned her an hour ago. It was received little past midnight but she refuses to go to them until the morning. It's still not nearly enough time to have new robe or armour made or for anything to be washed.

She frowns at her reflection and returns the revealing two piece to her bed. Quinn watches her with no expression, quietly indulging in seeing her in a civilian dress. Its style is modest and modern but fitting, the navy cashmere sculpting to her form. Quinn had rarely seen her out of her robes but in the past week they've all spent in this apartment, she has worn little else. When they had walked through the streets, she received looks of appreciation instead of fear. She looked like nothing more than a noble and for every step and moment, he was conscious of how precious these days were.

Her civility towards him hardly wavered but he felt she was avoiding him. She never seemed to be alone with him; either diplomats, politicians, Generals, Moffs, distant relatives or musicians visiting. Or there was Pierce who was also living in the apartment they were leasing. When they weren't receiving anyone for fulsome lunches, quaint afternoon tea, lavish dinners or evening drinks, they were out meeting others to receive the same hospitality. She always extended the invitation to include him which he politely accepted only for the chance of spending more time with her. She introduced him to everyone as her 'old acquaintance, Admiral Quinn' and nothing more.He expected little else but he was surprised by her first class manners, knowledge of the latest fashions, her taste in music and her wide spread contacts. She seemed to be a favourite of many and Quinn begrudgingly noticed that most of them were men of varying looks and ages. She seemed to encourage them and he could only sit and watch. He lost any right at feeling angry, if he had ever had any. She was more of a politician or diplomat on Dromund Kaas then a Sith. Despite his blistering jealousy, he fell in love with her all over again and realised how well she had been playing a role in the field and on their ship.

She picks up a more conservative robe and walks back to the mirror. Her long, hardened fingers hold it to her lean body. The corseted bodice inlaid with metal is tight and sculpting. The lower half is in two parts, separated by slim, high slits up the outside of each thigh. The shimmer silk lightly brushes the ground. A robe similar to a cape is attached by sturdy metal clasps to the shoulders of her bodice. The hood is indiscreet yet practical and the cape's sleeves are long but not long enough to get caught on her lightsaber.

She isn't sure what to wear. There isn't a handbook for what the Emperor's Wrath is meant to do or wear. She's making it up as she goes and eventually someone will notice unless she plays every card right. Sith are not actors though none others need to be. Being a Warrior is a means to an end. Once Emperor, she has no intention to hide at the end of the galaxy. She will rule them with confidence and from this city. That's what the Empire needs. It could be mighty and it could be strong. The Empire under her rule could defeat the Republic once and for all and then become prosperous and its people happy. All she needs is a chance to kill the Emperor and allies to minimize the threat of assassination to herself, not only for the present but also for the future.

'My Lord, may I make a suggestion?'

She glances at Quinn who still stands four paces in from the door and three paces from her. She hadn't forgotten him but hadn't been eager to force conversation. Normally Quinn is to the point and as abrupt and formal at leaving as he is at entering.

'Of course, Admiral Quinn,' she allows with a genteel smile. 'You are no longer my subordinate.'

'I will always be your subordinate,' Quinn corrects, his lips entering a more severe frown. She has called him nothing but "Admiral" and "Admiral Quinn" in the past week. He hasn't needed the reminder. 'You are a Darth, my Lord, and the Emperor's Wrath. I will never be your equal.'

She isn't sure if his lack of remorse or bitterness does him credit. She frowns, however, and regards herself more critically in the mirror as she speaks.

'Well spoken, Admiral Quinn. But you are in my quarters. I think that means you are not far away from being equal.'

'Location has little to do with rank, my Lord. A Moff located in a bantha's rear will always be higher than an Admiral in a palace on Alderaan.'

'You were almost close to speaking smut then, Quinn. I think that was one of the most pleasant things I've ever heard you say.'

'You have strange taste, my Lord,' Quinn chuckles and shakes his head. She drops her hands down from her shoulders and stares at him with wide, dark eyes. The bottom of her dress crumples on the ground. His chuckle fades at the sight of her shock and develops into a warm smile. She smiles in return but the bitter emptiness in her eyes doesn't leave. She has been smiling a lot in the past week and in the civilian clothes she has donned with natural grace, she seems the furthest from a Sith he has ever seen.

'If I had known you liked analogies on the social and military structure of the Empire, I might have indulged you more often.'

Her smile dissipates and she returns her fruitless gaze to her reflection, wrinkles of bitter hatred around the corners of her mouth. Quinn has noticed that through it all, her eyes have stayed murky and departed.

'No one can change the past. What suggestion did you have, Admiral?'

"Admiral" again, he notes with a slight pang. His smile fades but his sharp expression of stoic disapproval is a little softer than usual.

'I have always preferred the one you are holding to the others. I think it would have the right effect on the Dark Council.'

'This one?' She pulls the dresses bodice tighter across her chest and turns her body to face him more, critically admiring her reflection from the side.

Quinn gives a sharp nod in confirmation. 'I believe you wore it when we first met, my Lord. It left a powerful impression. I imagine you would want the Dark Council to view you with deference and respect. You are meant to hold a position of superior power to them. You must dress accordingly. Those' - Quinn points to two formal, more classical dark robes that are on her wardrobes door handles- 'are too classical and dark. They will give the impression you are trying to compensate or are traditional. They will assume you are under the influence of your noble though ancient bloodline.'

Quinn frowns as he illiterates his perception and predictions. She only stares into her own eyes. She wonders what is underneath them: what's in the Pandora's box they keep so deeply hidden? Her eyes breeze down to her clear skin but in her mind, she can only see the decaying stain of the dark side. She doesn't stop hiding it but she would rather see herself then look at Quinn. She was so close to never being alone with him again.

'Those three are too battle hardened. Though it would give an impression of strength it is also one of a brute. You want them to know you are intelligent - more intelligent than them - but never let them see just how so, of course. And that one,' Quinn pauses to adjust his gaze onto the two piece she had just put down, 'though more modern and in style, suggests frivolousness and careless youth. You expose too much skin and could be seen as something other than a capable warrior and ruler.'

Quinn's eyes return to the dress she holds against her body still as he pauses for a breath. 'That one, however, is a combination of the modern and traditional. It is practical with sophisticated armour plates but is well made. It mixes your wisdom with your more physical talents and also highlights your muscles and general physique.'

She turns her head to face Quinn, her eyes staring at his well pressed collar. She smiles with a cunning he has not seen since he attempted to kill her.

'You have an amazing talent, Quinn.'

'My Lord?' Quinn asks in confusion.

'You begin with something sweet and then you continue to list the reasons why every item I've ever worn in your company is inadequate. A very poor tactical manoeuvre, Admiral.'

Quinn grimaces, shifting into defensive parade rest. There are too many points in one speech for him to address them all adequately.

'For the record, my Lord, I did not comment on all your clothes and my assessment is based purely on tactics not personal feelings. '

'I wasn't aware they were separate to you. I also thought there was no record, Admiral Quinn.'

'I thought you knew, my Lord, "that there is always a record" with me.'

'Admiral, you might want to quickly come to the reason of your visit,' she warns. She doesn't bother with lightning or red eyes. He doesn't need to see them to know how serious she is.

'I am sorry to cause you offence, my Lord. That was not my intention at all. I- really meant the opposite. You have my highest esteem and there is much more that I wish to communicate with you for quite a while but I have hardly found us with a private moment.'

'You have your wish now.' She turns her back on him and walks to her double bed, laying the dress out on it carefully. She smoothes out the long skirt and adjusts the hood.

'We shall see, my Lord,' Quinn comments with a faint smile. He waits until she is facing him to continue, his mind turning over how the feelings he has can be turned into constricting words. She sits on the edge of her bed and regards him with cold civility as he takes three paces closer, standing little more than a meter away from her.

'I wish to remain with you, as your second in command or more. I made a choice, my Lord, and I cannot ever do anything to rectify it. But if you were to have me, I would still spend every moment trying to prove my unwavering loyalty, on duty and off duty,' Quinn informs her in a low voice, kneeling down before her, their eyes level.

'Because I think I fell in love with you, Darcia, and I haven't stopped loving you since. And what's more, I think you fell in love with me too. Am I wrong?'

She rises to stand on her long, bare feet. She looks down on him and her eyes burn black. 'Admiral Malavai Quinn, you are overstepping your station. This audience is over. Leave.'

'My Lord-'

'It's late, Admiral Quinn, and I am leaving in the morning. I will not return for three days.'

'I leave in three days, my Lord,' Quinn replies with a frown, smoothly moving to his feet and entering a parade rest. He stands too close to her now but she refuses to give any ground. She only gazes up into his eyes.

'I am to receive my new station.' Quinn's voice becomes a whisper. His eyes watch her uncompromising, pursed lips and her eyes flicker to his: a moment of weakness that can't be allowed to cause her to crumble. A moment of weakness that his piercing navy eyes catch.

'We may never have another chance,' he murmurs.

'We never had a chance since we met, Admiral Quinn.' The words delivered in her unrelentingly sultry, crisp voice take her further out of his reach then a step away ever could. 'That wasn't my choice but this is.' She opens the door with a flick of her wrist. 'Goodbye, Admiral.'

Quinn opens his mouth to object but doesn't. Instead, he takes a step back and bows with deference. He was forced to leave her company once with the Force. He won't make the same mistake again.

'Please consider my words, my Lord. Goodnight.'

@Alaurin: Apparently, Aric DOES have a way with the ladies... a way to make them try and break parts of him. I guess for him love IS a battelfield!... What?! I was at a LoG concert all night! It was all I could come up with! I like how you're bringing all the major players together here. I was wondering how you were going to do that, but you're making the Shange angle work well in your favor.

@Yoshi: The merging of two military armies who were once enemies is a daunting task. I like how Com. Malcom addressed the troops, drawing the parallels between the two using soldier's duties, and not try to compare ideals. The birth of the GIA! Nicely done.

@Bright: Caevarl intrests me for some reason. Form a household that spawns the likes of Wynston and Calline, I wonder what she could do if pressed into service somehow.

@Eversteam: Darcia's mood was so awesomely done, I can't properly awesome the awesomeness of the awesome. Quinn's regret seems to affect her, but she never forgets what he's done. It's telling though, that Quinn would come out and admit those feelings, something he's unaccustomed to. Nicely done!

“Sir, this is an out and out trap! You can’t go in there alone!”

“Jorgen’s right, Bro. That Imperial is playing us, and that’s not going to end well. We need to come up with a plan.” Kiera’Kian was leaning against the briefing room wall of the Thunderclap. She had come over from her own ship shortly after Bro’Kian had received the holocall.

“You’re both right, but think about this. It’s not just a trap. It’s an obvious trap. That makes all the difference. It means she knows I won’t come alone. So here’s what we’re going to do. Kiera, you’re going to take Jorgan, 4X, Vik, and Yuun to your ship, where I'm sure you’ll plan a brilliant assault—OW!”

Kiera had slugged him in the arm, “Be serious, you a*s! What are you going to be doing?”

“I’m going to try and figure out her angle. I’m guessing it’s capturing either me or you. We’d have the most intimate knowledge on Republic strategies, tactics, and secrets. This whole thing may have been a set up from the start.”

“Seems farfetched, Boss.” Vik said from his reclined position in the back. “I mean, they had Capt. 2K here dead to rights. Why not take her then?”

“Dunno, maybe they’re looking for info HAVOC-CMDO would have? Kiera, call your boyfriend and feed him what we know, but ask him to keep it quiet.”

“Who, Jonas? I don’t know if I’d call him a boyfriend. We just discuss military stuff over drinks… sometimes naked.”

“Hey, hey, HEEEY!” Bro’Kian made a warding gesture with his hands and shut his eyes tight. “I am NOT ‘need to know’ for that info! I’m just looking for a different perspective on our situation, not your after-hours life!”

“Don’t even know why we need that spook.” Jorgan grumbled.

“Look, just ask, ok? But tell him he can not get involved further than advice. I’m not going to risk Balkar’s career over this. Elara is HAVOC, and that makes her our responsibility. Ok, you guys, move--OWW!”

Kiera slugged him again, harder. “We’re the same rank, jacka*s. Quit giving me orders. Ok, you four with me. Move out!”

************************************

Bro’Kian walked down the landing plank, slinging his canon over his shoulder. He tapped his helmet and the display pulled up a layout for this style freighter. He followed the path that led to a large entry way. As he walked up, he could see the inside was empty, except for one desk and a chair. A person leaned on the desk.

Ok, Captain. Balkar couldn’t give you anything we didn’t already know, except that he thought the person running this might be dangerous, even among Intelligence circles. Time to think on your feet.

He removed his helmet as he approached the room, took two steps inside the door and stopped.

“I’m here, as agreed. Where’s Lt. Dorne?”

“Bro’Kian! I thought we might chat a bit first. Get to know one another.” The woman was well built. Pretty, despite burn scars covering the left side of her face, with brown eyes,. Her sandy blonde hair was up in a bun, like Elara wore, and her Imperial Naval uniform was neatly pressed.

“You have a name, or do I just call you ‘coward’?”

“Oooh, scathing heroic taunt. I can see this will go well! You can call me 'Agent', Bro’Kian.”

“Fine. I didn’t come here to chat, Agent. I want my XO. NOW.” He took a step forward.

“And so commanding! I can see why Dorne is smitten with you. A woman does like a man who knows when to take charge, after all.”

“You don’t know anything about Lt. Dorne.” His brow furrowed.

“On the contrary, Bro'Kian. Elara tells me everything.” The Agent smiled slyly.

“NERFSH*T! She’d never betray the Republic! Never betray HAVOC!” He roared, fist raised.

“Never betray you, you mean. I’m sorry. I'm sure you’re correct. Elara would never betray something she swore to protect and honor; something she believed in with all her hea—Oh, wait. She already did that once, didn’t she?”

“Shut up. The circumstances were differe—“

“It was quite easy for her, wasn't it? To leave her family, people she cared about. Yes, I can’t imagine that having done that once, she'd be able to ever do it again. After all, it’s not like running away is the easiest option in life.”

“I SAID, SHUT UP!” Bro was having a hard time controlling his anger. This woman seemed to know what buttons to push. The entitled, nonchalant tone she used only added to his frustration.

“Captain, did you know that nearly every other defector with her level of Imperial knowledge, has been assassinated?"

"Your point?" He said crossly.

"Did you not ever wonder how someone with her impeccable record, never rose above the rank of Sgt.? Did you not find it odd, that she was stationed on a backwater planet? With an assignment whose casualty rate rivals some battlefields? Search and Rescue on Tattooine is one thing. On Taris? It takes on an entirely different meaning. And yet, she survived countless operations, while others -- some VIP's -- did not.”

“SHUT. UP! Her work on Taris is classified. Her file is classified. How do you know what her M.O. was?” He swung his cannon over his shoulder and charged it.

“I told you, Bro’Kian, son of Thall’Kian, brother of Shira’Kian. She tells me everything.” The Agent said with a calculated smile.

That this lady would know about his father wasn't a stretch. The old man was well known in both Imperial and Republic circles. That she knew about Shira'Kian meant she'd done some real digging... or Elara had.

No! She's getting inside your head! "I don't believe you! You're baiting me. Waiting for me to make a mistake somewhere. You don't know anything that isn't public record."

"But your missing sister isn't a matter of record. Nor are the details of Elara's defection. I know more about the Republic than you would like to think I do."

"You're just trying to psych me o--"

"Bro'Kian, who exactly do you think it was that convinced Commander Harron Tavus to switch sides? That after the debacle on Ando Prime, the Empire would not only take them in, but allow HAVOC-U1 to utilize their talents to the fullest extent?" She spread her arms and smiled wickedly.

The comment stunned him into silence for a second, then his face contorted in rage, "You B*ITCH!" He hefted his canon and squeezed the trigger, letting a volley of bolts fly forth.

She nimbly dove to the side and engaged a shield of some kind. It dispersed the few bolts that found their mark. She stood quickly, producing a device from her coat.

"I admit, that was rather rude of me. I imagine it had to hurt, having to hunt them down, one by one like that. Please, let me make it up to you." She pressed a button on the device with her thumb, and a panel at the far end of the room slid open.

"Allow me to introduce, #1 on the Republic's Most Wanted list, the Grand Champion of the Great Hunt himself... DROKK'IT!" A large, fully armored man emerged from the doorway. He carried his helmet. The scar and facial tattoo were a match for what Bro had seen in the databanks.

Osiik! This, I didn’t expect. He started to move to a better position, putting the Agent and the Hunter in front of him.

The Agent smiled, "Bro'Kian, you seem a little uptight... I know! Why don't we play a game? Lighten the mood a bit."

"I didn't come here to play games. I came here to retrieve a member of my crew, and I'll walk over the corpses of you and the demagolka here to do it!"

The hunter flinched as his eyes narrowed, "What'd you just call me, boy?"

"You heard me! A true Mandolorian would never commit such atrocities for personal gain!" He spit on the ground. "There was no honor in killing women and children on the Aurora! Countless more on Vo, a planet who's ecosystem can never be restored! You're a monster!"

"Yeah, you can thank the Republic for that. Never been to Vo." Drokk'it unholstered his blaster.

"Now, now boys. Wait for it! The rules of the game are simple. The hunter has the key to Lt. Dorne's shackles. You will require it to unlock them, as the shackles will emit a lethal charge if they're removed any other way."

The hunter's face showed shock and anger, "That wasn't part of our deal, Agent!"

She grinned, "Gentlemen, I would love to stay and watch, but I have matters to attend to. I bid you both, adieu!"

The Agent bowed, and quickly walked out the door. She drew her gun, and shot the access panel outside. The doors slid shut with a resounding *THOOM!* They were trapped in here now.

Bro put his helmet on with his free hand, his other on the trigger of his canon, pointing at the armored man before him, who set his helm on the table.

Elara's somewhere in this heap, and the keys are held by the second toughest man in this room... TIME TO HAVOC UP, SOLDIER!

"Before you go gettin' all OO-RAH on me, we need to talk."

"You're right. This is my canon, LeeLoo..." Bro pressed a button on the side of the trigger guard. Two explosive rounds discharged towards the hunter as he jumped backwards, attempting to avoid them.

"... she does all the talking."

***********************************

“Captain, I can’t raise your brother. It seems communications are being interfered with.”

Under her helmet, Kiera’Kian grimaced. “It’s ok Yuun. Bro’s a big boy. He can more than handle himself. Right now, I need a tactical assessment of what I’m looking at.”

They had breached the freighter on the opposite side of the hanger Bro’Kian landed in. The layout of the ship showed this side was mostly crew quarters, the most likely place they’d stow Elara. The hallway they were traveling down was clear until it cut right. Now there were defensible barriers nearly as far as the hall ran. Each one positioned in front of a room's entry door.

“Looks like the Captain was right. They were expecting us.” Jorgan moved up beside Kiera.

“You want I should take ‘em out with grenades, Cap?” She turned and saw Vik smiling a toothy grin, and a gleam in his eye.

“Yeah Vik, then we can explain to Bro why his XO wound up with shrapnel through her body”, her tone sarcastic. “She’s possibly in one of these rooms, numbnuts!”

“Yeah, yeah. We have kolto tanks, don’t we?”

“I..”, she was dumbfounded, “...I can't even reply to that comment, it's so stupid.” She turned around and kept walking, rifle up.

“I thought it was a damn fine idea myself!” The voice came from down the hall. She saw the Ratattaki woman standing, hand on hip, behind the last defensive barricade. She was tossing and catching something in her left hand. A silver droid stepped out of the room behind her.

“YOU!” Kiera’Kian’s voice raged, “Oh, I'm gonna ENJOY this!!”

The Ratattaki grinned manically, “Aww, still upset about the a*s kicking I gave you?!” Then she tossed the item in her hand at them.

“GERNADE!” Jorgan yelled. Everyone dove into the nearest room for cover. Without waiting for the explosion, the Ratattaki and the silver droid opened fire on them.

Blaster bolts flew, as the barricade they’d been standing next to exploded.

Kiera turned to her men, “All right, here’s how this goes down. Form up behind me. I’m going to draw fire and close position as soon as I have an opening. Yuun and Vik, you’re responsible for cover fire -- NO ORDINANCE, CHAAVLA!" She pointed at the Weequay. "Jorgan, try to whittle down those barricades they’re behind. Ok, what's that thing Bro always says?"

"Please don't...", she saw Jorgen shaking his head and Vik's disgusted look, "not the 'HAVOC UP' thing. It's just too cornball."

She grinned, "Well then, let's kick some a*s!"

She engaged her personal barrier and stepped out into the hall, returning fire in their general direction. This gave Yuun and Vik time to set up in cover, and they began to lay down suppressive fire.

Jorgan leaned out with his canon, and began to pelt the barrier the droid and Ratattaki were hiding behind with bolts.

The sudden, intense barrage surprised the enemy and Kiera took the opening, storming the distance of the hall in a single run. She brought the butt of her rifle down on the Ratattaki, but it was deflected by a force field.

The silver droid jumped in the air, and dropped right in front of her, discharging her staff into the floor. The concussive force drove Kiera almost back to her original position.

That's how you want to play it? Fine! She launched a short range grapple to snag the Ratattaki and pull her in close. Another grapple, launched by the white alien female, smashed into hers and knocked it down.

"HAH! SUCK ON THAT, YOU KINTAN B*ITCH!!" the Ratattaki screamed, an insane grin on her face as she swept her blaster fire across the hall.

"Captain! We're going to have to go non-standard if we plan to advance!" Jorgan's voice was urgent as it came through her comm.

"If you got ideas, don't just talk about it! Let's hear 'em!" She came up on a knee and fired over the barricade.

"I can't believe I'm saying this... let Vik cut loose."

"Jorgan, you have lost your gol damned furry mind?!!"

"Captain, we don't have a lot of options! They're keeping distance, which neutralizes your effectiveness, and those barricades are tougher than Mandolorian iron! I'm not making a dent!"

Kiera'Kian frowned. Sunuva... he's right. We're going to have to switch things up.

"Ok, here's how this goes down," she opened channel to the team, "Vik, power down some of your ordinance. I'm going to let you play with our 'friends' a bit. If you have one, lob a concussive over there and let 'em think on it for a few."

"About d*mn time! On it, Cap!"

"Everyone else, lay down defensive fire! We can't get over there, but I don't want them over here either! Give our demolitionist time to show off his skills!"

They laid down defensive cover fire for several minutes, while Vik made adjustments to his grenades.

"THAT ALL YOU GOT?! COME GET SOME, B*TCHES!!" She heard the Ratattaki scream, and laugh insanely. A third person came out of the room behind them. He was dressed in robes and carried an electro staff. He moved up to the enemies position and took up a blaster.

"Vik? Could use some of your patented customer service right about now!"

"This'll make yer day then, Cap!" Vik stood up and lobbed a metal ball at the far end of the room. The explosion was almost ear shattering from her position. She shook it off and fired over the barricade again.

The enemy units were obviously shaken by this new tactic, except for the droid. She was the only one returning fire.

"HAVOC! MOVE UP!" Kiera vaulted the barricade in front of her, "Vik, send our 'friends' another gift!"

Vik stood up and lobbed another grenade, as the other members of the unit moved up to the next barricade. The explosion was violent this time, but contained to a small area. The enemy units were moving back.

They continued this tactic and eventually, the enemy turned and retreated down the adjacent corridor, the silver droid practically dragging the Ratattaki away with them.

"All right Yuun, Jorgan, clear each room. The way they were defending the hall, she has to be in here!" Kiera'Kian said as she moved to the end of the hall and peeked down the corridor the enemy fled to. "I'll take watch on this end. Vik, you cover the way we came in."

"Roger, Captain", they said in unison.

"And hurry it up! I'm starting to worry about that knuckleheaded brother of mine."

**************************

The walls were littered in charred bolt marks. Bro'Kian's cannon was sparking and useless, ten feet from him. He lay in the remains of the only desk in the room, it having broken in half after he had been smashed down into it. His helmet had been removed, and he had taken a beating at the hands of the Grand Champion, who's foot now rested up his chest plate.

Haar'chak, this sucks! I failed HAVOC. I failed Elara. HAAR'CHAK!!

"You ready to listen now, you hard headed sunuvab*tch?" The hunter leaned on his knee, putting more pressure on Bro's chest.

"Go *cough* screw." The blade gash in his side was making it hard to breathe.

The hunter rolled his eyes, "Save the tough guy act for yer girlfriend, dumba*s. I really didn't want to fight, y'know. Elara warned me you can be a bit hot headed though."

Bro began to try and move, a fire lit in him by the hunter talking as though he knew Elara.

"Whoa, whoa. Settle down, tough guy. You'll bleed out if you're not careful. Look, She told me to say something about her being an 'Ambassador from Zeltron'? Said it'd make you listen to me."

Now Bro'Kian couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed and angry, or calm down and listen. He'd jokingly brought that up in an early conversation he and Elara had. It didn't end well for him. Only she would know about it though.

Well, you can't beat him in this condition. Might as well hear him out. He stopped struggling.

The hunter grinned. "Good. Look, she needs you to rescue her. I had no idea the Agent screwed with the cuffs. Here", the hunter took a key from one of his pouches, "this is the key. She's in the crew quarters."

The hunter stepped off his chest plate and extended a hand. Bro hesitated, then took it and grimaced as he was yanked to his feet.

He held his side, and looked at his cannon. I loved that weapon, dammit.

"Yeah, sorry about that, "the hunter said as he scratched the back of his head. "You kinda didn't leave me a lot of choice there."

"Why..." Bro turned to the hunter, "why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm not the monster the Republic wants people to believe I am." The hunter's gaze was stern, but softened as he said, "... and because I know what it feels like when you can't protect what's precious to you. When you fail that one person, it walks with you. Haunts you."

The hunter raised his arm and fired three missiles from his gauntlet launcher. They struck the door across the room, and blew it apart.

"Elara's your person, Captain. DON'T. FAIL." The hunter walked back through the sliding panel he first appeared from.

************************************

"Yuun, how much longer until that door's open?"

"We are trying, Captain, but it does not speak to me yet", he replied in modulated Gand.

"Then try talking sexy to it. I want that door open, sooner than later. Understood?"

"The signs will guide me, Captain."

"Right. Ask them to guide faster, please."

They had just completed their search of the hall when alarms started blaring. A modulated voice told them to evacuate due to reactor overload.

The last door in the hall was locked tight. They decided that having Vik blow the door wasn't a good idea without knowing exactly where Elara was in the room, leaving Yuun to hack the lock.

"Cap, I got movement! Single body, coming up the hall!"

"Hostile or friendly, Vik?" Kiera'Kian asked.

"Hard to say. He's walking funny. Almost like he's been in a fi--Boss!" Vik disappeared from her view.

"Dammit Vik!" Kiera shouted as she hurdled barricades to get to Vik's position. As she vaulted the last one, he rounded the corner supporting a large soldier in HAVOC-CMDO armor.

"BRO!" He looked to be in bad shape. His face was bruised and bloody, and there was a large streak of red running down his leg, from the space between his chest piece and hip. "The Emperor's wrinkled a*s! What happened? How bad is it?"

He caught her with a serious look and asked, "Is Elara ok? You guys find her?"

"Yuun's cracking the door right now."

He seemed relieved, "Great, I made it in time." He produced a key from his belt pouch, "Have Yuun check her bonds, they might trigger an electrical charge. If it's safe, use the key."

They brought him down to the door and sat him against the wall. The Gand cracked the lock seconds later, and they found Elara inside, shackled to a chair.

Kiera removed her helmet, "ELARA!" She rushed into the room, "Hey! Hey, you all right?" She hugged her while Yuun checked the shackles.

"Yes, I'm fine, Captain. Is everyone safe? Where's Capt. Bro'Kian?"

"Hold still for a minute, Yuun has to check the stun cuffs. They may be booby trapped."

Yuun looked them over, quickly inspecting every detail. He then put the key into the lock, and the cuffs popped open without any fanfare.

Elara stood up, flexed and stretched. "Capt. Kiera'Kian, I don't see your brother."

Kiera grabbed her hand and pulled her outside, "He looks like something a vine cat played with and left on the porch. We have to hurry, this place is going to blow."

Bro'Kian lazily rolled his head up, "Hey there, Lt. Could use a little med assist, if you don't mind."

Elara knelt beside Bro'Kian, and quickly inspected his wounds. "I need a medpac. We need to get him back to the Med Bay, stat!"

She rapidly applied the medpac she was handed to Bro'Kian's gut wound, then Kiera and Vik hoisted him up and they double-timed it back to his ship, with Kiera peeling off to get her own ship and bring it around.

*******************************

Bro'Kian opened his eyes to bright lights and sterile walls. He heard the low hum of engines, and as he rose to consciousness, he realized he was in the Med Bay of the Thunderclap.

His sister was sitting in a chair by the bed, and Elara was busy looking over results from the bio-scanners.

"Hey.." he said weakly, "what'd I miss?"

"HA! I knew you'd be all right. Too damn stubborn to die. What do you remember?" Kiera stood up and walked over to him, smiling.

"I'm sorry Capt. Kiera, you'll have to excuse us. It's time for his medicine." Elara pushed between them and boxed his sister out. Then she leaned over and kissed him gently several times.

"Uh-oh, Doc. I feel a relapse coming on," he grinned, "I might need some more powerful medicine, if you catch my drift?"

Elara stood up and smiled at him, "Ahh, patient shows marked increase in lack of situational awareness. Recovery is imminent."

"Glad to see you too, dear. What are you doing?"

"Going over the results of your tes... Lords of Alderaan!" Her face blanched. "Kiera, get the others and get them in here now!"

"What? What's going on?!" Kiera and Bro both said at the same time.

"I'll explain later, we may not have much time. MOVE!"

"You all have your assignments. Stay on encrypted comm channel Yaga-Yaga-Zed. I will contact you for updates from there. Dismissed."

Her crew filed out, as Drokk'it walked in. It was just the two of them in the briefing room.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked.

Fenn'rys smiled, "Yes, Drokk'it. I have the details on Dorne's transfer, as per our agreement. This was your idea, so I'm going to need your help."

"A little work never scared me, Fenn. Hit me."

"Amusing that you should put it like that," she grinned, "because that's exactly what you're going to be doing."

"Of course... what the hell are you talking about?"

"In order for my plan to work, you'll need to stall the Commander of HAVOC-CMDO for a bit. Since he probably won't accept an invitation for Miralian tea and biscuits, you'll most likely have to hold him there by force."

Drokk'it's face twisted in confusion, "Ok, you lost me. I thought we were releasing Dorne to her crew? Why does that involve combat?"

"It's simple, really. I need time to install a subversive program onto the Thunderclap's targeting system."

His eyes narrowed. "And what exactly does this 'subversive program' do?"

"Really Drokk'it, your short term memory is atrocious. One too many blows to the head, maybe? The arrangement was that you follow my orders without question when it came time for the operation. That time is now."

"Whatever you say", he said through clamped teeth.

She sighed and rubbed her temples, "It causes their targeting to calculate incorrectly by 42.10 degrees on the Y axis, anytime it fires on an Imperial ship, or installation, using a recognized Imperial encrypted data stream. Since they all do on some level, it theoretically negates the Thunderclap's ability to fire on hostile targets."

"Clever", he sounded impressed.

"Now, can we move on, or would the Grand Champion like to pout some more? You're going to also be in charge of prisoner transfer. She'll be kept well away from your fight. SCORPIO and Kaliyo will provide security, Vector will make sure those two behave. This way, you know that your requirements in this deal are being met."

"I'm sorry, Fenn," he half-smiled, "I know you're breaking the rules to do this, and I appreciate it. I do. I'm just used to a lot of latitude in my plans. This 'tight as a chrono' thing is new to me."

She walked around the table, reached up, and gently grabbed his chin with one hand, "Sometimes, you just have to let go, Drokk'it. Trust me, it will all work out in the end."

"Yeah, all right. I can do that."

She smiled happily at him, "Excellent. Now, there are two caveats to this. As I will be introducing you to HAVOC's Captain, you will refer to me only as 'Agent'. If you use my name, everything changes and this becomes a wetwork operation. Clear?"

"Crystal. You want your privacy."

"Second, you may not divulge anything we've discussed to Lt. Dorne. An explanation will have to be provided to my superiors, and this targeting algorithm is what I will use to cover myself and my crew from Sith reprisal. I'm sure you can respect that."

"Yeah. I'd do the same."

"Very well. You should go get ready. We'll be docking in two hours."

*************************************

She grinned, "Gentlemen, I would love to stay and watch, but I have matters to attend to. I bid you both, adieu!" Fenn'rys bowed, and quickly walked out the door. She drew her gun, and shot the access panel outside. The doors slid shut with a resounding *THOOM!*

She killed her hard light disguise and removed her full facial mask, as she walked quickly down the hall.

"Cipher Nine to all units. Status report."

Blaster fire erupted through her comm, "This is SCORPIO. Kaliyo and I are taking heavier fire than anticipated, but it will not interfere with mission parameters. Chances of victory increase by 65% if we terminate the hostage, however."

In the background, Fenn'rys could hear Kaliyo, taunting. "COME GET SOME, B*TCHES!!", followed by maniacal laughter

Fenn'rys scowled. "SCORPIO, keep Kaliyo from going berserk, and negative on the termination. The objective is to stall for time while making it appear we're fighting to win. We want them to take the hostage back."

"Temple, reporting in. The DNA samples, fingerprints, and voice recognition got us aboard the Thunderclap. I've uploaded the virus to the targeting systems, as planned. They shouldn't notice until after they leave. The C2 protocol droid has been implanted with the recording/transmittal program, and its memory of the last, and next, 10 minutes was replaced. It will believe it has spent that time reprogramming the ship's food processor to reduce the crew's caloric intake."

"Make it call the crew 'fat' while you're at it!" Kaliyo cut in, talking loudly over the blaster fire.

There was momentary silence on the comm, until Kaliyo cut in again.

"What? That would be hilarious!"

"Kaliyo, do shut up. Temple, excellent work. Do a quick re-check on the droid. I want the video transmittal program buried so deep, they'll have to melt the C2 unit down to find it. Lokin, status?"

"Yes Agent. I have adjusted the ship's medical equipment. It will detect the nanobots the HAVOC Commander inhaled during your conversation, as well as the ones Vector injected into Dorne. However, I've programmed it to be blind to the nanobots you secretly coated Drokk'it's blade with. I hope your hunter can do his part."

Fenn'rys quickly turned a corner. Her destination, the freighter's control center, was up ahead.

"Have faith, Doctor. He's not the Grand Champion because he looks menacing. Past combat data shows he uses his gauntlet blade at least once every fight. Wipe the place clean, and head back to the Phantom to prep for launch. Do not leave even a trace that you were there. Lokin, you're in charge of the final sweep. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Agent", they replied in unison.

"Vector, status?"

"Yes, Agent. We injected the subject with the nanobots, as per the plan. She is ready to be 'delivered'. We can hear the marked increase in blaster fire outside... shall we go and assist?"

"Vector, that is an excellent idea. Please awaken our guest, then rendezvous with SCORPIO and Kaliyo. Do not, I repeat, do not engage HAVOC squad in melee combat! Maintain the pre-designated range and use one of Kaliyo's blasters. The Gand and the Weequay are formidable opponents, and the HAVOC-VG Captain's weakness lies in her need to be up close."

Fenn'rys entered the control room and began hacking into the engine reactor safety protocols.

"Begin final stage. SCORPIO's team, give ground and allow them to move you back, but make it believable. Ensign Temple, have the Phantom ready to leave the minute our feet touch the entry ramp. I'm going to retrieve Drokk'it, and will rendezvous in ten minutes. We'll debrief once in hyperspace. Cipher Nine, out."

She finished setting the reactors to overload a few minutes later. She rapidly walked out of the control room as a calm voice sang in monotone about evacuating due to engine overload, with screaming alarms as the musical accompaniment.

She picked up her pace, following the route she memorized as the quickest to the Hunter's position. She rounded the final turn and saw him leaning against the wall, looking less than pleased. He turned that look on her when he heard her approach.

“You told me the cuffs were regular stun-cuffs. You never mentioned they came with the military termination contingency!"

He fell in beside her as she passed him. Both walked hastily. "They weren't. The threat needed to be there though. A sense of urgency alters your perception of time. It gives the illusion as though you're always late, which causes you to rush and make mistakes. You did well, Hunter. We had exactly the amount of time we required."

"Like I had a choice?" Drokk'it growled. "You pis*ed him off so bad he wouldn't listen to reason. I had to beat the rage out of him first -- thanks so much for that, by the way."

"You had to engage him seriously to make it believable and keep him occupied. I calculated that you'd go soft and just hand him the key, so I made sure the operation was adhered to. You should be thanking me, you know. You just beat HAVOC squad. Your reputation is set."

"I'm not into beating up people I outclass. You know that, Fenn." He said as they entered the hangar bay.

Fenn'rys looked up at him, annoyed, "And I'm not used to allowing high value assets to fall through my fingers at the whim of a man, handsome though he may be. By my estimation, that makes us even."

They walked up the Phantom's entry ramp, "Now get on, strap in, and prepare for emergency launch. We're going straight to hyper space as soon as we leave this hanger."

***************************************

Fenn'rys entered the cockpit with a bottle of Dalicron-4 XO cognac and two glasses. Debriefings had taken place, post-mission wind down had occurred, and it was late. She was aware that she would find Drokk'it here, sitting in the co-pilot's chair, comfortably clothed and looking at the stars, hands behind his head. He didn't notice her come in.

"Care for a drink?" She waved the bottle in the air. She had let her hair down, and it covered part of her face as it fell across her shoulders. Her jacket was unbuttoned, exposing her black work undershirt. "A toast to the completion of a successful mission?"

He turned his head, "Appreciate it, but I quit awhile back."

"Oh?" She came in and sat down in the chair next to him. "Why is that? You seem to have enough control not to make it a bad habit."

He stared out at the stars again, "You've seen what happens when I cut loose. Lose that control. I'd just prefer not to chance it."

"Well, just in case", she produced a small bottle of creamy blue liquid and poured it into one of the snifters, "I came prepared. Blue milk. I noticed you ordered this at the restaurant on Fedalle."

He took the glass she offered and grinned, "Nothing gets by you, Agent. Thanks."

She kicked off her boots and pulled one leg up to her chest, and left the other hanging off the edge of the chair. She stared at him for a few minutes, as she sipped her brandy.

"You know Drokk'it, you've done exceptional work these past few weeks. So much so, that I'm going to count today's operation as your final service. Temple's busy 'scrubbing' the final files as we speak."

His head jerked sideways, "Really? Everyone's clear now?"

She smiled at him, "Yes. A contract is a contract after all. Your crew is clean. Only good credit ratings and mundane histories remain in the Republic and Imperial databases. Any criminal records entered from here forward, should be purged two weeks later by a secret protocol attached to their names. I had Temple add that as a bonus."

She watched as he tried to unsuccessfully suppress an ear to ear grin. "I don't know what to say, Fenn. That's great, really great. They shouldn't have to shoulder burdens I gave them. Thank you."

She studied him for a moment, then asked, "Drokk'it... I could have Temple erase your history as well, if you wanted? You only specified your crew when we set the contract."

His smile turned thoughtful as he looked back out at the stars again, "Nah. People have to earn their right to be free and clear. One day, maybe... but, not now. I have a debt to work off first."

Fenn'rys set her drink down, slid off the seat and walked behind him. She ran her hands down the sides of his neck and began to rub his shoulders.

"You shouldn't dwell on that, Drokk'it. That was a long time ago. A different age."

His shoulders tensed, "Doesn't make it right, Fenn. Doesn't matter the time, the place... nothing makes it right."

"I know. More than you understand, I know", she moved around and sat on the sliver of chair edge beside him, "but you're a good man who was put in a bad situation. The guilt will kill you if you let it. I don't want to see that."

"Yeah," the look in his eyes was pained, "I know. I don't know any other way though, Fenn. It's just part of the price I have to pay. The balancing of the scales."

She stroked his face, "You could come work for me... take specific assignments that would allow you to feel like you're atoning, making a difference, rather than taking random bounties."

"Nah", he smiled kindly at her, "but thank you, Fenn,for trying to make things better. I mean it. Thanks."

"Pity," she breathed as she moved in, "we would've made a fine team." Her lips met his, kissing him passionately, as he returned her fire.

For those few minutes, their breathing increased as the heat rose between them... then as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

In mid-kiss, Drokk'it gently pushed her away, her shoulders straining against his large hands, not wanting to stop. He rolled out of the seat, away from her and to his feet, grabbing the chair next to him for balance. It looked like he was having trouble standing straight.

"I... I can't, Fenn. I'm sorry, but I can't do this." He rubbed his face as he held the wall for support, stumbling towards the exit.

"Drokk'it, no one would have to know!" She looked at him pleadingly, "Please, stay with me tonight. Let me be the one to hold back your nightmares. Let me be the one you turn to, just for tonight!"

He looked back at her, a myriad of emotions coursing through his eyes. Love, lust, guilt, fear. He shook as he began to catch his breath. "I would, Fenn. Force knows that if I could... how badly I want... I can't betray her, Fenn'rys. It would be only the second most heinous thing I've done in my life. She's waiting for me... I know she is. No matter what I've done, she's waiting for me... because I promised I'd go back. I won't fail her. I won't fail again."

The Chiss stood up, reaching for him, eyes moist, "Drokk'it..."

For the second time tonight, he looked at her, pain in his eyes, "I'm sorry Fenn'rys. In another life... we could be... I'm sorry. I've got to go." He managed to stand up and walk out.

It took a few minutes, but she gathered herself together, wiped her eyes and partially buttoned her jacket. She then grabbed her drink and sat where Drokk'it had been sitting, as she looked out at the stars. The silence was broken by Kaliyo's entrance.

"Agent, what the karking hell is wrong with Drokky-poo?" she stumbled in carrying part of a six pack of cheap Rodian beer, purplish marks forming around her throat. "I was about to jump him and tear this cockpit up!"

"Yes, Kaliyo," Fenn'rys rolled her eyes as she pulled a clip out of her pocket, and adeptly put her hair up in one quick motion, "I'm sure that's exactly what is on his mind when he thinks of you."

"Ooooh, snarky Agent tonig -- wait. No freakin' way! You made a move on him! What? Were you thinking whirlwind romance, retire to a distant planet, and populate it?" The Rattataki said snidely.

She looked out the window at the stars. "In another time, perhaps... different choices made..." she said wistfully.

"Y'know Agent," Kaliyo smirked, "You're not as cold blooded as you want people to think you are. I may have just learned something new about you tonight."

"Oh Kaliyo." The Chiss smiled darkly as her eyes bore into the Rattataki, "Has it ever even occurred to you, that I dictate what you know about me?" She held up the hunter's empty glass and poured cognac into it. "Care for a drink? It's the good stuff."

Kaliyo reached out for the glass but her hand flinched back before she touched it. "You put something in it, didn't you?", she asked dubiously.

"Not in it, on it. One simply does not ruin a vintage cognac by adding poison to it. I coated the glass in Ithorian truth narcotic. The same thing I rubbed on Drokk'it's skin anytime I touched him within the last four weeks."

"How--"

She produced a tiny atomizer, attached to a bracelet in her sleeve. "This. When the chance would arise to touch his bare skin, I was ready."

"Nifty little toy, Agent. Still wondering why though."

"A side effect from the truth narcotic is that in tiny doses over time, it makes human subjects pliable to suggestions, both subliminal and overt. It also loosens his inhibitions a bit."

"So, were you affected too? The way you were kissing him, it looked like that wasn't all you were trying to loosen." Kaliyo cracked a lewd grin.

"Kaliyo," Fenn'rys laughed, "you've seen me kiss a hundred men during deep cover operations. What makes what you saw any different?"

The Ratattaki thought about it for a minute. "Dunno... just felt different I gue... waaaait a minute. What's in your lipstick?"

"Cutaneous tracking nanobots. They'll stay attached to his beard follicles, thus avoiding blood tests and internal scans that Drokk'it is likely to have done when he gets back on his ship."

Kaliyo let out a loud laugh, "HAH! D*MN, you're good, Agent! You even had me going there for a minute!"

She turned and left the cockpit, giggling. "Another place, different choices... ha! Man, I can't believe I fell for that drek! THIS is why I stick around this dump! Never a dull moment with you, Agent."

Fenn'rys touched her lips as she poured more cognac into the glass. She stared at the passing stars as she lifted the glass to her mouth, "Yes, I can't believe you fell for it either..." she whispered softly.

He walked into the Engine room. Elara sat in the laser containment cage, writing something on her notepad. It had been two days since their conversation in the cargo bay. She didn’t show it well, but Drokk could tell she was slowly losing the fire she had when he first met her.

She looked up when she heard his footsteps. “Drokk’it, thank goodness. It gets a tad boring in here playing word games with myself.” She smiled, but it was somewhat forced.

“Elara, listen… I managed to secure your release—“

“What?!” She said, shocked. “Something like that does not come without a price! What did you lose? Tell me!” Her tone switched from shock to annoyed concern.

Drokk smiled and put his hands up in surrender, “Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing I can’t handle, but Elara… I have to go up against your Captain.”

Her jaw dropped, mouth agape in horror. “No… No, Drokk’it you can’t. You… you can’t do that. He’s well trained and an excellent fighter, but he’s…”

"He's what?"

She turned her head and swallowed, “He’s not your equal.”

“I thought so.” He massaged his forehead with one hand.

“You… you’re not planning on killing him?!” She almost came up against the laser grid, emotion overtaking her.

“Look, I got no love for the Republic, but I only kill when I have to. So no, I’m not going to kill him. I’d like to avoid a fight if I can.”

Relief washed across the HAVOC medic’s face as she plopped down into the chair. “Th-Thank you Drokk’it. Thank you.” She drew in a deep breath, calmed herself and began to think. “I might have an idea.”

“That’d be helpful.” He grinned.

“Quiet, you." She said, in a relieved tone. "You need to tell Capt. Bro’Kian something that only he and I would know. This should verify that you’ve been in contact with me, and that we were on friendly terms. Tell him”, Elara blushed, then sighed, “… it can’t be helped. Tell him that I’m his 'Ambassador from Zeltron'.”

“Great. So do I open the conversation with that or…”

She smiled at him, “You’ll have to figure that out on your own. Be mindful of your words though. He’s a fine Captain, but he’s a bit thick when he gets riled up.”

******************************************************

"Before you go gettin' all OO-RAH on me, we need to talk."

"You're right. This is my canon, LeeLoo..." The Captain of HAVOC squad fired two explosive rounds at him. Drokk jumped backwards narrowly avoiding the blast.

"... she does all the talking."

Drokk stood up, "Hey! I'm not looking for a fight--"

"Good," the Trooper said as he leveled his cannon, "that makes this easy then. Drokk'it, for crimes against the citizens of the Galactic Republic, I hereby place you under arrest--"

"I'm not looking to lose my freedom, either! Would you just listen--"

"To the Reaper of Vo? I don't think so." He fired consecutive blasts from his cannon. Drokk managed to dodge one volley, and his shield mitigated the second.

He came to his feet and looked the armor clad HAVOC Captain menacingly, "You're gonna want to think reaaaal carefully about what you choose to call me, boy."

More volleys fired. Drokk moved around the room, avoiding some, his armor and shield mitigating the rest.

"Really?" The Trooper said between firing, "I think the name fits a killer of women and children perfectly!"

"Fine! You want to be a tough guy, boy?" Drokk's words dripped with anger, "THEN LET'S SEE YOU PLAY THE PART!"

The Trooper had taken time to overcharge his cannon and now released that energy in his direction. It caught him partially in the chest, as his shield generator overloaded and shut off.

Drokk flew backwards and hit the ground rolling. He managed to roll away from a hail of bolts that sprayed out in his direction, and got to his feet. As the Trooper auto-loaded a new type of ammo into the cannon, he fired his short range grapple. It hit the HAVOC Captain square in the chest, and he flew through the air, as he was pulled towards the Hunter.

Before he landed, Drokk fired his rockets, and connected with a massive uppercut in the air. The two opposing forces coming together was powerful enough to dislodge the Trooper's helmet. He landed and fired two missiles, point blank into the Trooper's chest. The explosions launched the soldier into the air, before he could land and recover.

The Trooper landed hard and rolled away, coming up to a knee under fire, while ripping his helmet off. He produced a detonator and threw it. Drokk tried to swat it to the side, but it was coated in an adhesive substance, causing it to stick to his blaster. While he was desperately trying to remove it, the Trooper ran back to his cannon and fired off a volley.

Drokk tried to throw the blaster away, but he was still too close when the detonator exploded. The concussive force tossed him into the wall.

Using the opportunity, the HAVOC soldier flipped his cannon to full auto, and unloaded on him. He managed to get to his feet, taking only a few rounds as his shield generator kicked in again. He ran in a random pattern towards the Trooper, popping his gauntlet blade.

This needs to end. NOW.

When he got within melee range, the HAVOC Captain dropped a concussion charge. Once again he was forced away from the Trooper, but as he came down by the desk, Drokk again fired his short range grapple, pulling the soldier to him. This time however, as he came down, Drokk moved to the side and sliced at the uncovered area between the chest plate and the hip guard.

The Trooper had held on to his cannon this time, bringing it with him, swinging it at the Hunter's head as he landed. Drokk blocked it by punching his blade into the housing of the weapon, making it useless.

He then fired a missile at the Trooper's feet, launching him into the air. As the soldier came down, Drokk cracked his abdomen plating by driving another rocket assisted uppercut to his midsection. He then grabbed the Trooper by the throat and hoisted him in the air, and drove him down into the table. The resulting force caused the table to break. The HAVOC Captain lay there, beaten and bleeding.

Drokk put his foot on his chest piece and leaned on it. He could see the frustration in the soldier's eyes, as he weakly struggled under the hunter's weight.

"You ready to listen now, you hard headed sunuvab*tch?"

Kid would've made a d*mn fine Grand Champion.

"Go *cough* screw." His breathing was labored, but he still fought from a weak position.

Drokk rolled his eyes, "Save the tough guy act for yer girlfriend, dumba*s. I really didn't want to fight, y'know. Elara warned me you can be a bit hot headed though."

With a new burst of strength, the soldier started trying to fight again.

"Whoa, whoa! Settle down, tough guy. You'll bleed out if you're not careful. Look, She told me to say something about her being your 'Ambassador from Zeltron'? Said it'd make you listen to me."

What the... is he blushing? Ok, that's not creepy or anything...

The Trooper stopped struggling, but kept his fierce gaze.

Well, that's a start at least. "Good. Look, she needs you to rescue her. I had no idea the Agent screwed with the cuffs. Here", Drokk took the key from his belt pouch, "this is the key. She's in the crew quarters."

He reached out to help the Trooper up. It took a second, but the soldier grabbed his hand and Drokk pulled him to his feet. He looked over the damaged cannon with disappointment.

"Yeah, sorry about that, "the hunter said as he scratched the back of his head. "You kinda didn't leave me a lot of choice there."

"Why..." the HAVOC Captain turned to him, "why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm not the monster the Republic wants people to believe I am." Drokk met the Trooper's fierce gaze. He relaxed a little, "... and because I know what it feels like when you can't protect what's precious to you. When you fail that one person," he said sadly, "it walks with you. Haunts you."

Drokk auto loaded three missiles from his gauntlet launcher and fired them at the large door, blowing it apart. Then he looked at the wounded Captain of HAVOC.

"Elara's your person, Captain. DON'T. FAIL." He turned and walked off towards the door he entered from.

Don't be like me, Captain. Keep her safe.

**********************************

After a brisk, and terse, walk back to the Phantom with Fenn, Drokk cleaned up and met everyone in the briefing room. The debriefing went rather quick, and afterwards, he spent time cleaning up Elara's holding cell in the engine room under SCORPIO's watchful eye. It was late when he finished removing the laser containment cell, completing the task. He wasn't tired, his mind on other things, so he went to the cockpit to watch the stars.

Huh. No one's here. That's a first. Must be resting up from the Op. He settled into the co-pilot's chair and stared out the stars as they cruised through space.

"Care for a drink?" Fenn'rys' voice broke the silence. He turned and saw her waving a bottle of amber liquor. She looked like she was calling it a day, with her hair down, and jacket unbuttoned. "A toast to the completion of a successful mission?"

Drokk smiled at the offer. He could really use a stiff drink right now, buuuut... "Appreciate it, but I quit awhile back."

"Oh?" She queried, as she came in and sat down in the chair next to him. "Why is that? You seem to have enough control not to make it a bad habit."

He felt the door in the back of his mind, all chained up, and locked. He wanted it kept that way. "You've seen what happens when I cut loose. Lose control. I'd just prefer not to chance it."

"Well, just in case", she produced a small bottle of creamy blue liquid and poured it into one of the snifters, "I came prepared. Blue milk. I noticed you ordered this at the restaurant on Fedalle."

Drokk reached out and took the glass from her. It was already slippery with the condensation forming. He was impressed she remembered the blue milk, and grinned, "Nothing gets by you, Agent. Thanks."

He watched her kick off her boots from the corner of his eye. She pulled one leg up to her chest, and left the other hanging off the edge of the chair, staring at him as she sipped her brandy.

D*mn, she reminds me so much, of Miri. She used to sit just like that, smiling at me, as we watched the stars.

"You know Drokk'it, you've done exceptional work these past few weeks. So much so, that I'm going to count today's operation as your final service. Temple's busy 'scrubbing' the final files as we speak."

He almost pulled something, his head whipped around so fast. "Really? Everyone's clear now?"

She smiled at him with a contented look, "Yes. A contract is a contract after all. Your crew is clean. Only good credit ratings and mundane histories remain in the Republic and Imperial databases. Any criminal records entered from here forward, should be purged two weeks later by a secret protocol attached to their names. I had Temple add that as a bonus."

He was stunned. Makes was free now. If this thing with the Republic didn't get worked out, she wouldn't be dragged down by his ghosts. None of them would be. He tried to fight the stupid grin he felt coming on, but he lost.

"I don't know what to say, Fenn. That's great, really great. They shouldn't have to shoulder burdens I gave them. Thank you"

"Drokk'it..." she asked after a moment of silence, "I could have Temple erase your history as well, if you wanted? You only specified your crew when we set the contract."

Nope. No rest for the wicked. "Nah. People have to earn their right to be free and clear. One day, maybe... but, not now. I have a debt to work off first."

He gazed out into space. He had accepted his lot, long ago. Clearing that debt would never be as easy as just erasing some records.

He was lost in thought, so he hadn't noticed her slip out of the chair and come behind him until he felt her hands on his neck, sliding down his shoulders. She began to work at the constant knots he thought were permanent parts of his body at this point. It felt great.

"You shouldn't dwell on that, Drokk'it. That was a long time ago. A different age."

When she said that, a thousand different memories came flooding back to him, some good, most bad.

"Doesn't make it right, Fenn. Doesn't matter the time, the place... nothing makes it right." Not ever.

"I know. More than you understand, I know," Drokk looked into her red eyes as she came around and sat on the sliver of chair edge beside him. For some reason, just like the restaurant on Fedalle, he felt like she did understand, did share his pain, and it was comforting. "but you're a good man who was put in a bad situation. The guilt will kill you if you let it. I don't want to see that."

"Yeah," the memories were playing back in his mind. Time never seemed to dull them. Fifteen years, and the faces were as clear as ever, "I know. I don't know any other way though, Fenn. It's just part of the price I have to pay. The balancing of the scales."

Her hand reached up and slowly stroked his face. The physical contact dulled the pain some.

"You could come work for me... take specific assignments that would allow you to feel like you're atoning, making a difference, rather than taking random bounties."

The Empire and the Republic were the cause of all of this! I won't be tied down again. "Nah", Drokk smiled at her, grateful for her compassion, "but thank you, Fenn, for trying to make things better. I mean it. Thanks."

"Pity," he could taste her breath as she moved closer. It was familiar, tantalizing, "we would've made a fine team." At some point, he had lost track of how close she was. When her lips engulfed his, it was a shock... but something stopped him from pulling back.

It was as though those things fifteen years ago had never occurred. Mirielle was in his arms, their lips pressing against each other, their tongues entwined. For a moment, he forgot everything, only thinking of her. Her taste, her smell, how she made him feel.

In the back of his mind, he thought he heard a voice, off in the distance. He couldn't make out what it was saying, but he knew it was important. He turned towards the voice and saw the petite young woman with blond hair, sitting on her rock. She screamed but he could barely hear her.

He watched as the rock slowly moved further away, he could see her crying, and it broke his heart. It was her pain he felt, her broken heart... because she was his wife...

WA-- -P!

... she was his rock...

-AK-U-!

... she was the key that kept the demons locked up...

WAKE UP!

Her name was Mako, and he needed her... but he was kissing someone else.

Drokk opened his eyes and gently pushed Fenn'rys away from him. His mind felt foggy, confused. He had to get out, away from here.

He rolled out of the seat, dizzy from the waves of different emotions that were rushing through him. He almost lost his balance, but he grabbed the chair next to him. Thoughts of Mako flooded his mind. They were chased by thoughts of Mirielle. Thoughts of Fenn'rys. The three swirling in his head, fighting for control.

"I... I can't, Fenn. I'm sorry, but I can't do this." He reached out to the wall for support. He rubbed his face, his eyes, trying to calm down.

"Drokk'it, no one would have to know!" He heard her voice and turned to see her pleading, "Please, stay with me tonight. Let me be the one to hold back your nightmares. Let me be the one you turn to, just for tonight!"

He felt longing for the beautiful Chiss woman in front of him. It mixed with love, she was so much like Miri, and he had carried that love for so long, locked away behind the guilt he had felt for driving her away, for what he had done. And he felt fear... because if acted on those instincts, he would lose the one thing in this life that kept him whole. He would lose his rock.

"I would, Fenn. Force knows that if I could... how badly I want... I can't betray her, Fenn'rys. It would be the second most heinous thing I've done in my life. She's waiting for me... I know she is. No matter what I've done, she's waiting for me... because I promised I'd go back. I won't fail her. I won't fail again."

She stood up, reaching out to him, eyes moist, "Drokk'it..."

It hurt him to not be able to go to the beautiful blue woman in front of him... but it hurt him more to know what would happen if he did. "I'm sorry Fenn'rys. In another life... we could be... I'm sorry. I've got to go."

He walked out of the cockpit, his head clearing, walking without support. As he traveled down the hall, he was still sorting through things, and missed the Ratattaki coming up on him.

"Drokk, you look like a hot mess! Let Kaliyo fix that for you, handsome", she purred as she roughly grabbed his crotch.

Without thinking, he grabbed her hand, and her neck. He hoisted her in the air and slammed her against the bulkhead, squeezing until she couldn't breathe. She flailed with her free hand, trying to loosen his grip, but he tightened it every time she hit him.

He looked into her white eyes with a piercing stare and roared, "WE'RE THROUGH WITH THIS GAME, KALIYO!! You touch me without my permission, you even undress me with those psycho eyes of yours again, and I'll snap your neck like a twig."

Drokk dropped her and stalked off to find a place he could be alone. He had things to think about, sort through. He regretted what had just occurred, both with Fenn'rys, and now Kaliyo. However, the Ratattaki had been right about one thing. He was a hot mess.

He needed to go home. He needed Makes.

**************************************

EPILOGUE

They had landed at Rhu Caenus spaceport early this morning. She had said her goodbyes to Drokk'it in private. He had apologized for the incident a few nights past, and asked her to apologize to Kaliyo for him for some reason. It had been awkward, and she played it that way. Now, she and Vector stood on the landing pad, watching him walk to the spaceport, where he would resume his old life.

"You seem pleased with yourself, Agent."

Fenn'rys turned to him and smiled, "And why shouldn't I be, Vector? Everything has gone according to plan."

"Everything?"

"Everything. The first transmission from the Thunderclap's C2 droid came in last night. As predicted, they went into 24 hour quarantine after the discovery of the first set of nanobots. Lokin assures me that the second set of nanobots will only show up as the biometric radiations all life forms give out, and will remain undetectable by Republic military medical scanners."

"And since they found the first set, "Vector mused, "they will think the threat is eliminated."

"Precisely. The first set was deadly, make no mistake. A mutation of womprat fever in its incubation stage. Discovery of a suitable threat to lull them into a sense of security, which prevented them from finding the second set of nanobots in the Captain. Nanobots whose only purpose is to identify a location when pinged."

"That, coupled with the targeting virus plant--"

"Oh, no." She interrupted him, "They found the targeting virus. I intended them to."

Vector looked confused momentarily, then smiled. "I see, another 'suitable threat' to avoid the discovery of the C2 unit's new programming."

"Military quarantine procedures for introduced viral attacks are not just contained to living beings. The entire ship gets searched for invasive threats. I had Temple install the virus deep into the programming files, but not so far as to be invisible, like the C2's programming. The Gand most likely found it."

"And what of the IX serum you administered to Lt. Dorne?"

A chilling grin crossed her face, "Yes, that will turn out nicely. I worked with the finest biochemists in the galaxy after I gained the formula."

The Joiner looked puzzled, "It's effects on you were nearly absolute, Agent. Why tinker with it?"

"When I was affected, I knew something was wrong. It was a flaw in an otherwise perfect weapon. I had the biochemists remove that flaw. When Lt. Dorne is given the keyword, she'll believe her actions are of her own choosing. It now also allows one additional command to be imprinted, providing the subject's will is strong enough to withstand the mental strain."

"Interesting. What commands did you give her?"

"She'll look to take over maintenance on the C2 unit, so it can assist with medical duties. This will allow us to keep the surveillance program hidden for as long as possible. The second command can only be activated when the keyword is intoned using the droid's vocal modulator... and that command is for my eyes only. So, now we have internal eyes on HAVOC squad's life, the ability to track their deployment patterns, and control the deepest mole available; the lover of the CO. Yes, I think I'm entitled to be pleased with myself. Don't you?"

They turned and began walking up the ramp, the Hunter long having disappeared into the terminal.

"Agent?"

"Yes, Vector?"

"What about the hunter? What was Drokk'it's part in all of this?"

"He played the part I required of him from the start. I had sketched out the details differently, but it all came together in the end, and he helped us achieve an objective which would have been all the more difficult without him. In the process, we left on good terms with the current Grand Champion of the Great Hunt. The door is now open for us to use him as needed in the future."

"Is that all that you wanted?", the Joiner asked gently.

Fenn'rys stopped walking, hesitated, and then looked back. Vector had seen this face before. The deadly eyes, the caring smile, a contradiction of features that was off-putting at best. He knew the smile was not a smile, it was a threat, one backed up by the look in her eye.

"Vector, I have a harder time concealing things from you for obvious reasons, and as such, you've become something of a confidant. I know I can trust you with what I tell you and I do not question your loyalty to me, understanding that I am second only to the Oroboros Nest. However, there are things about me that you will never know, and things I will never tell you. My desires, my true desires, fall into that category."

"We apologize, Agent. It was not our intention to offend."

"I understand. Now, let's move on, shall we? The Empire won't save itself."

@bright_ephemera:

She took a deep breath and managed a little smile. “We work well together, don’t we?”

 

Ordinarily he would call such a long period without verbal communication a failure. But here they’d worked as if…as if they’d known each other for ages. He couldn’t be angry at it, or begrudge the source. In a way it felt better than any mission he’d been on in years. “We do,” he said.

@marissalf:

It wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine the agent happily crossing “Jedi” off his list of conquests the moment he laid eyes on the woman.

@Striges:

I still have some tea left from our first meeting. I will brew some and think of you.

@sthrift: Waiting for the next part!

@YoshiRaphElan: The part about the shoulder pads made me laugh. Some armor seems so impractical.

Stepping over to the railing, he removed his black cape and let it fall over the side.

 

At last, his job was done.

@bright_ephemera:

The fort had developed pillow tunnels out in the directions of the refresher and pantry,

Great story about Wynston and his sisters. The way they slowly get the meaning of his words, when they see the stacks of his possessions.

@alaurin: I like the way how Kat acts like she is paranoid, when she attacks Jorgan. Which she probably has every reason to be.

@EverSteam:

'That wasn't my choice but this is.' She opens the door with a flick of her wrist. 'Goodbye, Admiral.'

@DarthSillyMonkey: I think your preamble is longer than most of my stories Great story, especially with the different POVs. I like the way Drokk'it reacts to Fenn'rys advances, how he is torn between her and Mako, and of course that he knows whom he belongs to. Curious to see what Fenn'rys is concocting to save the Empire.

Zal had taken up position on the slope above the path that led down to the shallows between Avilatan and Mannett Point. Through the scope of the sniper rifle she had been keeping Mannett Point’s shore under surveillance. As she’d feared the beach was guarded. Depending on the equipment of the seps, crossing without being seen wouldn’t be easy even after sunset. She’d be able to take out a few of the guards from this side, but the rest would simply take cover until she tried to cross. She’d be an easy target then. It would be safer to try to get to the other side without being spotted, she decided. She’d wait till the armored transport that came walking up the path had passed.

Scanning the rest of the path she could see a single soldier approaching. A glance through the scope quickly confirmed that it was Nikeo. From his behavior she guessed that he was heading for Mannett Point, too. She sighed. Seemed Ord Mantell wasn’t big enough for them to avoid each other. She could wait till he had crossed, provided that he managed to do that. He’d clear the way for her. But he’d face the same problems as she did. So if he botched things up and drew reinforcements to the shore, she wouldn’t be able to cross either. The most logical solution would be to team up.

Nikeo tore his eyes away from the sunset and focused on the path ahead. To his left he could see the remains of the bridge that once had provided a means to cross over to Mannett Point. The seps had made a good job of it. He was glad his combat suit was waterproof. The water in the shallows would be high enough to get more than his feet wet otherwise. He stepped to the edge of the path to make room for the armored transport that was walking in his direction. He greeted the soldiers in the cockpit and was greeted in return. They signaled that the way ahead of him was clear. Whatever mission they had been on seemed to have been accomplished and they were on their way back to Fort Garnik. As the AT came abreast Nik suddenly heard a noise that wasn’t emanating from the transport. He turned towards Mannett Point and only had time to dive for cover behind some of the scattered boulders as he recognized an incoming rocket.

Zal watched the incoming rocket through the scope of her rifle. Definitely no model the Empire used. Didn’t look like Blas Tech, probably Merr-Sonn. Looked like the reps were being targeted with their own weapons. The rocket hit the transport square. She could see Nikeo diving for cover but being hit by the explosion’s blast nonetheless. She exhaled when she saw that he moved afterwards, she hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath. Through the scope she could see the seps readying a rocket launcher for another shot. Kark. Why did they have to start this skirmish now. The separatists would be guarding the shallows even closer now, because they’d fear a counterattack. She’d have to hurry to get to Mannett Point.

With a practiced grip and twist of her hand she pulled her hair into a ponytail. She got into position for a shot. Not much light left, with her own sniper rifle the range wouldn’t have been a problem, this one’s range was shorter and she wasn’t used to it though. Thankfully there was no noteworthy wind. The man holding the rocket launcher offered a better target than the rocket launcher itself. Putting the weapon out of commission would be difficult. She opted for the safer shot. The separatist pulled the trigger while dropping dead, but the rocket flew without proper aim and plunged into the ocean. Her follow-up shot hit a second man in the arm. Sloppy shot, she clearly needed some practice. Too much flying around in starships of late. Voluntary targets for a third shot had suddenly vanished. Time to move.

Nikeo shook his head as he struggled to his feet. Kark, that had been close! Slowly his vision cleared, static on the com from Jorgan. “Lieutenant, do you read me?” Nothing. There was the noise again. Still slightly dazed he turned and cowered down. Then he saw the rocket heading out over the ocean. He got up as he heard the ramp of the transport being lowered.

The exiting soldier greeted him with a nod and received one in return.

“I’m with Havoc Squad, sir. You and your men alright?”

“Nobody seriously wounded, our transport won’t be going anywhere though. We’ll be heading back to Fort Garnik on foot. If you’re on your way to Mannett Point, take out those rocket launchers.”

“I think they won’t be sticking out their heads in the next few minutes!” a familiar female voice said and Zal strode around the corner of the transport. “Took one out.” She was grinning smugly.

Nikeo whistled. “Wasn’t aware you’re that good with a sniper rifle.”

“I suppose there are a lot of things you’re not aware of, Sergeant.” She retorted.

“I think you’re doing a good job of teaching me that lesson, Captain.” Nikeo said with a wink.

The transport’s Commander cleared his throat. “If I’m not mistaken, those were Merr-Sonn MX-2s, stolen from the Republic, no doubt. If you stumble across any weapon caches over there, take those out, too!”

“I will! Please inform Lieutenant Jorgan, that my com device was damaged, and that I’m about to cross over to Mannett Point.” Nikeo headed back for the path. How could the seps steal Republic rockets? It seemed like somebody were not doing their job right. He’d have to talk to Tavus about this, or maybe better to Jorgan, as weird as that sounded. But Jorgan seemed to be the only one supporting the investigation of possible treachery and/or Imperial involvement on Ord Mantell.

“Hey, Sergeant, you coming? Or do you want to wait for the seps’ reinforcements?” Zal called, already heading down the slope to the beach.

He hurried after her. “What are you doing?”

“Me?” she asked with a glance at him over her shoulder. “I am going to help you. As I sat there upon the slope, enjoying the sunset, I got the impression you could use some help.”

When Nik caught up with her he grabbed her arm and pulled her around. “Wait!” He let go of her arm when he saw the look she gave first his hand then him. “Please, Zal!” he added. “I really appreciate your help, and not just because of the fact your skill with that rifle probably will make crossing to Mannett Point much easier.” He hoped, that if he couldn’t hear Jorgan, Jorgan also couldn’t hear him. But for her cooperation Zal earned something in return. Zal was looking at him expectantly, her blue eyes shimmering in what little light was left.

“We’re trying to retrieve a bomb, that was stolen by the separatists—a big bomb. Maybe they’ll try to get it off-world with your ship. We don’t know where your ship is, but I can tell you, that it definitely hasn’t left Ord Mantell yet.”

“Why tell me now? Why not tell me yesterday?” she asked.

“Information about the bomb is classified. But if there really is a connection between your ship and the bomb, the faster you find your ship, the faster we may find the bomb. I trust you, Zal. You’re not one of the seps. I was foolish not to tell you yesterday!”

She briefly looked towards the horizon before her gaze returned to his eyes full of resolve. “It hurts, to know that last night happened because you wanted intel.” She started to turn towards the beach. “But I think I can live with that. Let’s find my ship!”

With three long strides he was in front of her, his hands on her shoulders preventing her from walking on. “If I left that impression, I obviously did more than one thing wrong!” He took a step closer to her, still holding her shoulders. He could feel his heartbeat quicken. “I never met a woman before who had such an impact on me, Zal. It doesn’t feel like I met you only yesterday. I…—I can’t say that I earned a second chance. I…” He was at a loss for words. He felt like he was going to drown, looking into her eyes, waiting for her to rescue him. Her expression was unreadable.

Zal heard him echo her feelings. It doesn’t feel like I met you only yesterday. She wondered why the Force was doing this to her, why now? Why hadn’t there been someone like him among all those suitors at home? She had to run away, alienate her father, get involved in this mad mission, working for somebody she loathed, to find him on this Force-forsaken planet. To hell with rationality. If she was going to have regrets for the rest of her life, she wanted an adequate counter-value for the price she paid.

She closed the remaining gap between them and kissed him tenderly. When he turned the kiss into a more passionate one, she broke away from him. “I’m afraid, distracting you from your mission is a bad idea. I doubt they’ll allow lady visitors in a detention cell.”

“You’re right.” He said with a regretful smile as he stepped back and let go of her.

“Bad habit of mine!” she declared with a grin. “So, you’ll go first while I provide covering fire if necessary?”

“Sounds like a plan, meet you on the other side.”

She got into position and watched him wade into the water. He made good progress without making much noise. He had nearly reached the shore before he was spotted. Together they managed to take out the guards without an alarm being raised and making too much of a ruckus.

Zal quickly undressed save for her underwear, bundled everything up, and followed Nik to the shore on the other side.

“What was that about distracting me, you said earlier?” He asked when she reached him.

“Sorry.” She apologized, while stripping off the water from her skin. “Being soaking wet doesn’t contribute to being inconspicuous at large.”

“Why do I get the feeling you have a plan of your own?” He asked while she dressed.

“Maybe that’s because you’re foolish but not that foolish?”

He chuckled. “Care to enlighten the fool?”

“I’m going to gain access to the seps computer system, while you’re doing whatever you planned to do, to find the bomb. I’ll find my ship!” She raised her hand to stop his protest. “Believe me, I am good at being inconspicuous. I don’t plan to meet opposition.” She was relieved when she saw him nodding to consent.

Together they sneaked into Mannett Point. He kissed her when it was time to part. “Please be careful.”

“Hey, you’re avowedly the fool here. So I should be telling you to be careful.” She squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry, meet me back at Viidu’s as soon as they let you off the leash.” She blew him a kiss before she vanished into the darkness.

***

Nikeo headed towards the meeting point with Wraith. No time to be concerned about Zal. She seemed to be capable to fend for herself. Regarding opposition he hoped she’d have more luck than he did. Once inside the seps’ supply outpost he ran into several guards. They couldn’t stop him from reaching Wraith, but he hoped he had hidden the bodies well enough to not be discovered too soon.

Together they managed to breach the security measures and get into the secure area Wraith had located earlier. Mission objectives changed when they discovered, that the security wasn’t so tight because of the bomb but because of a meeting of three of the seps most respected leaders. Nikeo offered them the chance to surrender, but they preferred to fight. Wraith probably wouldn’t have approved of him taking them prisoner anyway, given how cold-blooded she had shot the man who had provided their new information. He wasn’t overly sorry to neutralize the separatist officers. By beheading the separatist organization he’d increased the chance for the civil war to come to an end considerably. The data on separatist cell location and manpower he got from their computer would also be contributing to ending the war.

Needles debriefed him, congratulating him on the elimination of the three separatist officers. When it came to killing enemies he seemed to be as cold-blooded as Wraith. How many kills did it take for someone to no longer regard people as people but only as mission objectives? Nikeo wondered how many steps in that direction he himself had taken today.

***

Zal had no problems with infiltrating the lower levels of the separatist hideout, once she had managed to open the door in Reki’s house that led to a pathway to the maintenance passage to the hideout. Not falling asleep while decrypting the code to unlock the door was the hardest part of the operation. Exposing a considerable amount of cleavage, adding a distinct sway to her gait, a suggestive smile, and an overall behavior like she belonged, and she had no problems with getting past any guards of the compound she wasn’t able to avoid. She nearly got caught when she was accessing the computer, but was able to distract the separatist simpleton with his droid who also wanted to access the computer. She left the hideout without having fired a single shot. Somehow this was more fun than leaving a bloodbath behind. Every moron was able to pull a trigger. Using your brain was much more satisfactory than using your gun.

There were situations this rule couldn’t be applied to though. One such situation awaited her upon her return to Rendia Fright. Two of Viidu’s ‘employees’ suffered a severe case of insubordination. They were cornering Syreena—showing the kind of behavior towards women Zal was rather allergic to—and decided to ignore Zal’s warning. They didn’t get to regret their mistake. Viidu wasn’t too happy about the incident, but the data she had collected would probably make up for any inconvenience she had caused. While they waited for the data’s decryption Viidu wanted her to collect a canister of some highly explosive chemicals from a nearby village. Corso seemed to be really concerned, he called it the ‘Big Boom Run’. She agreed to get the chemicals anyway, but decided to get some rest first.

***

When Nikeo entered Zal’s room, she was sitting on the bed, inspecting a heavy blaster. She got up to kiss him, but didn’t let go of the weapon.

“Acquired a new toy?” he asked.

She handed him the weapon. “A gift from Corso.”

He eyed the weapon critically. He frowned. As far as he remembered she had called Riggs always ‘Riggs’ instead of ‘Corso’.

She noticed his frown. “Anything wrong with the weapon? I think it’s in a rather good condition. He calls it ‘Flashy’. Cute, isn’t he?” She smiled innocently.

“Cute? What kind of cute?” he inquired handing back the weapon.

“How do you mean?”

“’Absolutely-no-competition-cute’ or ‘better-shoot-him-immediately-cute’?” he specified his question while he encompassed her waist and pulled her close.

She laughed. “No need to be jealous of the kid.” She asserted, dropping the weapon to the bed.

He nibbled her ear. “You sure? The ‘kid’ is probably older than I am. And he is certainly jealous. At least that explains the look he gave me when he saw me on my way to your room.”

“Contrary to him, you got absolutely no reason to be jealous. Although I admit to feeling flattered that you are.” She turned her head and kissed him. “But now that you mention it, how old are you?”

“I’ll tell you after my twenty-fifth birthday.” He grinned when she pulled away a little to look him in the eye.

She smirked. “And here I thought I was the woman. How many years till that birthday?”

“Classified information!” She probably wouldn’t mind that he was only twenty, but she would most certainly tease him about it. He guessed that she was at least two years older. Time to distract her.

Zal left Rendia Freight together with Nikeo, they were holding hands. He pulled her close to kiss her goodbye. She knew that he was concerned. Maybe she shouldn’t have told him about the ‘Big Boom Run’, but she hadn’t wanted to risk that he found out from somebody else. She froze when she heard the voice from behind his back.

“Hello honey.”

I took the liberty of taking Jorgan out of Nik's and Zal's conversation, he would have made it way too awkward.

@DSM, magnificent! The overlapping format was kept clear enough to make sense. And I sincerely hope this mindworm has left you better off than anyone who has made acquaintance with the eels of Ceti Alpha 5.

“Who, Jonas? I don’t know if I’d call him a boyfriend. We just discuss military stuff over drinks… sometimes naked.”

 

“Hey, hey, HEEEY!” Bro’Kian made a warding gesture with his hands and shut his eyes tight. “I am NOT ‘need to know’ for that info!

"I can't believe I'm saying this... let Vik cut loose."

 

"Jorgan, you have lost your gol damned furry mind?!!"

"Oh Kaliyo." The Chiss smiled darkly as her eyes bore into the Rattataki, "Has it ever even occurred to you, that I dictate what you know about me?"

Furthermore I loved Mako's WAKE UP, all the more so because it blocks Fenn'rys's play. And even if she had genuine desire I'd still call it a play coming from her.

@EverSteam, Admiral, do the words “too little too late” mean anything to you? I bet they do now.

She glances at Quinn who still stands four paces in from the door and three paces from her.

@frauzet,

She exhaled when she saw that he moved afterwards, she hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath.

An afterlife, rather than bliss,

May invite less “hurrah,” more “boo hiss.”

The old social contract

May fail at first contact

With something as novel as this.

For the first week and a half of his appearance Nalenne’s crew had dealt with Quinn’s ghost mostly by ignoring him. There wasn’t much in the social handbook about how to interact with a dead man, and Nalenne’s personal handbook had already exhausted itself with the stabbing him to death in the first place.

For the most part he stayed on the bridge, a location that was safe enough since he couldn’t interact with matter anyway. This was where Vette found him.

“I like how you’re dead and you’re still spending all your time here,” she said. “Why did we ever bother giving you quarters?”

“I won’t dignify that with an answer,” said Quinn.

“So what were you doing on the bridge all that time?”

“Working. I don't expect you to be familiar with it.”

“And now? Staring into space?”

“Thinking. I reiterate my previous sentiment.”

“Huh. Too bad all that thinking couldn't make you smarter.”

“Too bad all this talking cannot make you relevant.”

“Hmm, relevant like able to affect stuff?” Vette leaned over and spun the pilot’s chair in a circle. “Already there. So! How are things in dead-land?”

“I find myself categorically incapable of performing any useful function, and in fact it seems the only skill I retain is that of talking at my fellow crew, which I can now do without tiring twenty-four hours a day should I so desire.” He tightened his jaw. “This must be what it feels like to be you.”

“Bet you love that. A-mazing. All I have to do is bring up Moff Broysc and this conversation will be complete.”

Quinn turned his glare to her slave collar. “Don’t you have a refresher to clean or something?”

“Yeah, right. I talked Jaesa into my chores for the day.”

“…She fell for that again? Yet I’m the one you characterize as too dumb to live.”

“Exhibit A: You’re not alive. Plus, Jaesa never put herself up against Nalenne. – Except with the pillow fights.”

An immaterial muscle twitched near Quinn’s immaterial eye. “There are pillow fights?”

Vette grinned. “Early and often. – Oh, hey, I’d better get going. Getting hungry, you know. Probably going to unwrap that red velvet cake in the fridge, drizzle it with warm chocolate syrup…”

“You mentioned going,” Quinn said loudly, and returned his attention to outer space. One short yet lovingly detailed recitation later, Vette went on her merry way.

Technically this slots in between chapters ten and eleven of the original run.

I think Quinn/Vette is my favorite NDOW pair to write.

Corso looked out of the very clean window at the small shuttle, seeing the fuel lines attached and full. He'd never been on Carrick Station before, and had enjoyed seeing all the sights. What am I doing here, he wondered. Why did I leave Ord? Again? He shuffled his feet and glanced over at the small woman he'd decided to protect, even if she didn't want it. He'd sworn to himself that he'd hold his heart apart, that he'd never care about anyone the way he'd cared about his parents, so that when they left or died his heart would be spared. He knew now that resolve was already gone.

He'd known her for two days. Two days, and his entire future was scrambled. He'd left his world, his life, and he knew he'd never look back. He watched as she shifted in sleep, curled up against the gear bag he'd brought along. She'd lost everything-- her ship, her belongings. She was still wearing the clothes she'd been stranded in. Unlike the other girls he'd known,( all two of them he thought with a snort) she didn't whine. She simply accepted what was and made the best of it. Maybe that's why, he thought, she was so easy to love. Wait, did I just think that? He spun back to the window, and ran his hands down his face.

Goodbye, Ord Mantell, he thought. Hello, future.

A secret Republic facility on Quesh:

"Agent? Agent? Hey, blue girl, wake up already."

Cipher Nine's hand flashed out and caught the slap coming her way. "Kaliyo? How long was I out?"

"Long enough that I got bored. First you do your 'I see dead people' routine, then you pass out. You're usually a little more fun than this."

"So sorry to disappoint." She got to her feet. She felt--clean, finally. Free. But she had to test it, to make sure it was real. Watcher X, whether he was real or a hallucination, was not to be trusted. "Do me a favor, Kaliyo, say, 'onomatophobia.'" She could say it herself, an excellent sign.

"On a what? Are you sure you're all right?"

She sighed. "I'll explain later, just, please, say it."

"And yet I always get called the crazy one. Okay, what was it again? On a mountain of boys? I thought you swung the other way."

"Onomatophobia," she gritted out through clenched teeth.

Kaliyo laughed. "You're too easy sometimes. Onomatophobia."

Nothing. No reaction. She would have hugged the Rattataki if it wouldn't have given her the wrong impression. She settled for closing her eyes and saying a brief prayer of thanks to the Force. Her mind was her own, and no one would ever be able to control her again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A hidden space station somewhere near Dromund Kaas:

Wake up, Zelly.

Elly?

Wake up. We're free now. They can't hurt us anymore, but you have to wake up, Zelly.

"Don't let him win. Free yourself. You're stronger than his influence. Fight!"

"Master Orgus... what happened?" Elly? Silence. A dream?

"The Emperor clouded your mind in darkness. Made you do terrible things. You've been the Emperor's pawn a long time, but you're finally free."

She extended her awareness through the Force to where she could feel her sister. Her presence was different, stronger than it had been in months. The malaise she'd been fighting was gone, and the Force told her that something her sister had done had freed them both from the chains of others.

Sorry my endings are always so abrupt. I can never think of ways to end things gracefully. I have the same problem in real life conversations, too.

@Yoshi: I have to agree with Bright, that was a very nice ending for a LS Wrath.

@Bright: I really enjoyed the insight into Wynston's family after he left them......good background for Calliene. Also, Vette's interaction with ghost Quinn was really fun to read!!

@alaurin, I like the way you build a sort of galactic community of Cathar...they all seem to know the major events among their people and can sometimes identify by reputation.

@DarthSillyMonkey: WooHoo!!!! What an ending!!! Oh, I so want to know what's going to happen with Dorne and the programming!!!

@Alaurin: Shopping! Tia deserved a little relaxation time. And it looks like she let Jorgan get into her head when she was teasing him. HA!

@Alaurin: Apparently, Aric DOES have a way with the ladies... a way to make them try and break parts of him. I guess for him love IS a battelfield!... What?! I was at a LoG concert all night! It was all I could come up with! I like how you're bringing all the major players together here. I was wondering how you were going to do that, but you're making the Shange angle work well in your favor.

@EverSteam: Dammit!!! You got me feeling sorry for Quinn!!! That was a very touching piece and I really enjoyed it, even if it made me feel bad for Quinn.

@frauzet: Oh, that last bit gave me the warm fuzzies something fierce......until

She froze when she heard the voice from behind his back.

 

“Hello honey.”

@alaurin: I like the way how Kat acts like she is paranoid, when she attacks Jorgan. Which she probably has every reason to be.

@Magdalane: Yay for more Miriah and Corso!!!! He just really had it bad from the get go, didn't he?!

@theStirge: I really liked how you tied the sisters freeing themselves to the same moment!

Aric and Elara, both dressed in civilian clothing, entered the Slippery Slopes Cantina to meet with their SIS contact, Jonas Balkar. They found the man dressed in formal wear waiting in one of the more private side rooms and both Aric and Elara were surprised to see that Balkar wasn’t waiting alone. A woman was with him, dressed in a black beaded silk, backless evening dress that hugged her slender, voluptuous body. Her back was to them, but Aric could see her exposed legs through the slit in the side of her dress that went up to her thigh. Between those shapely legs and her bare back, he saw enough to identify her. That silvery little minx works fast, Aric thought, feeling his body heat up as flashes from his recent dreams entered his memory, focus Jorgan……don’t forget what she did to you last time you met.

Aric caught Dorne’s eye and saw her nod in understanding. He would try to get Tia to come with them long enough to fill her in on what they just learned from her sister, hopefully she’ll take the hint and go along with it. Tia must have sensed them because Aric saw one of her hands drift to her lap, possibly to a weapon.

“Well, well, Jonas,” he heard her sultry voice, that very same one that’d invaded his dreams since Taris, tell her companion as she turned towards them, “I think your company has arrived.”

“So they have,” Balkar replied, having a difficult time taking his eyes off the exotic beauty in front of him, “I shouldn’t be too long……how about I meet you in the ballroom?”

“I suppose I can do that,” Tia winked, taking the pass Balkar handed her as she slowly got up, “Hopefully your meeting will go quickly, and you can spend the rest of the evening showing me a very good time.”

“There’s nothing that would please me more,” Jonas assured her, looking forward to a slow dance or two.

Aric watched as she sauntered towards him, those alluring lavender eyes locking with his. He felt his body heat up when he saw the plunging neckline of that stunning dress and that it actually had a slit on both sides. Those stiletto heels she wore nearly brought her to his height and he was willing to bet she was armed despite how well the dress clung to her body. At that moment, part of him wished he could take her somewhere private and frisk her as she’d mentioned back on Taris, great Jorgan, something else to add to those illicit dreams you keep having……focus, man……you need to warn her, not fantasize about peeling that dress off of her…..

“Not so fast,” he growled, stepping in her path as she went to move past him, irritated at the affect she was already having on him, “I think you should come with us.”

“Easy there, Captain,” Tia told him, a teasing smile quirking her lips as she stepped close enough to bring their faces within inches of each other, “We’re on neutral ground and you wouldn’t want to attract the bouncer now, would you?” She ran a finger down his nose, “After all, I’d really hate to see that nose get broken…..again.”

“I still owe you for that,” he retorted, grabbing her wrist, pissed that despite the fact she broke his nose, the seductive vixen was still getting to him, “and trust me, I mean to collect.”

“Good,” she purred, completely unfazed by his threat, knowing exactly what she was doing to him and enjoying every moment, “I like a man who pays his dues.”

So that’s how she got the better of him last time, Elara mused, having noticed both her CO and the agent eying the lovely young woman, she’s definitely good. “How’s that leg?” she smirked, deciding to intervene.

“Oh, that’s right,” Aric snickered, having forgotten that Elara shot her back at Needles’ lab, “You didn’t exactly come out of that encounter unscathed, did you?”

“Oh, a minor thing, really,” Tia taunted, a mock pout on her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Balkar was moving in behind her. She smiled coyly up at Jorgan, licking her full lips, “Actually, it still aches though…..want to kiss it and make it better for me, Captain? It’s kinda high up though, so it would probably be considered indecent if we do it here…….even for Nar Shaddaa. Maybe we can go somewhere private and play doctor.”

Aric growled as he got a better grip on her arm, annoyed at his body’s quick response to her very blatant suggestion, “How about I take you into custody and we can arrange that?”

“Hmmmm…….,” Tia pondered for a second, “tempting, but no, I don’t think so,” then before any of them could react, she brought one of those narrow stiletto heels down on Jorgan’s foot, causing him to let go of her with a painful growl. Then she darted behind Dorne and had a hand around her throat with a razor sharp claw out, “Now, I suggest both of you boys back off before Blondie here gets a scratch.”

Tia pressed her claw to Elara’s skin and both Aric and Jonas could see a drop of blood. They complied with Tia’s demands and stepped back, not wanting to draw attention or have anyone get hurt. Tia spotted a bouncer at the door and gestured for him to come over, then bent her head to Blondie’s ear.

“I left my purse on my chair,” she whispered, “Take it, there’s something inside for you.”

“Is there a problem here?” the large bouncer asked.

“Just a little disagreement,” Tia purred as she let go of Dorne, “Do you feel like escorting me out, handsome? A girl like me can sometimes attract unwanted attention and you look like you could keep me safe from those unsavory types.”

“Absolutely, ma’am,” he replied and Tia hooked her bare arm in his. She turned with a wicked smirk on her face, blew a kiss to Jorgan, gave a little wave to Blondie and Balkar, then left the room, blatently fawning over her new escort.

“Dammit,” Aric cursed, seeing his opportunity to warn her slip away, that little.….conniving…..teasing..... beautiful….sexy…...temptress…...

“Well, that was interesting,” Balkar interrupted Aric’s thoughts, “I take it you know her and she isn’t a friend. It’s a shame though, because I was really looking forward to getting to know her a lot better.”

“I think you know her well enough,” Aric snapped at the agent, earning a questioning look from both him and Elara.

Elara merely shook her head and hurried over to the table where Tia had been sitting. She picked up a napkin and pressed it to her neck with one hand while grabbing the purse from Tia’s vacated seat and pocketing it with the other.

“No need to be jealous, Captain,” Jonas chuckled, “I’ll back off.”

“Don't be ridiculous.......I’m not jealous,” Aric shot back, sounding a little too defensive for the very observant agent to believe, “I just don’t think you need to treat her like one of your conquests.”

“If you say so,” Jonas grinned, “So anyways, who is she? An enemy or one of ours?”

“In a way…..both,” Aric sighed, deciding to come clean with the agent despite General Garza’s desire to keep things under wraps. This new threat to Tia changed things in his opinion and Balkar might be able to help them with a few things.

The three of them sat back down at the table Jonas had been sitting at with Tia and Aric filled him in on who Tia really was and what she was doing. He warned the agent that General Garza wasn’t going to be happy about him knowing the real situation but a new threat had come up. Aric explained what they found out about Tia’s family and that he needed to find out a way to warn her without blowing her cover.

“I’ll see what I can find out about that explosion ten years ago, what happened to her uncle, and if there was any information that was left out about those responsible,” Jonas told them, “It was before my time with SIS, but I should have enough clearance to look into it……if not, I have a couple of people that owe me a favor. As for warning her, I might be able to help you. I was supposed to meet back up with Tia at the big charity ball after this meeting. I don’t know if she’ll still go given what just happened, but I’ll head there and find out. If I see her there, I’ll fill her in and make arrangements to stay in contact.”

“What about the official reason we’re here?” Elara asked, seeing Aric tense up at Balkar’s suggestion to continue seeing Tia.

“That’s easy enough,” Jonas answered, checking his chrono, “Our friends have been raiding storage vaults……weapons mostly. I’ve managed to find a pattern to their attacks and have some field agents casing their next potential target in the Nikto Sector. I’m actually expecting to hear from her any……..”

Balkar was interrupted by his Holo going off and a young woman who appeared to be a freelancer appeared, “Jonas, I just wanted to let you know that I arrived safely.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” Jonas nodded, “Enjoy your trip.” As soon as he signed off, Balkar turned to Aric and Elara, “That’s our signal, the vault is about to be hit. If you two hurry, you should be able to catch them in the act and detain our metal friend.”

“We’re on our way,” Aric nodded, “Just get to that ballroom and warn Tia if she’s there.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to seeing her again,” Jonas replied, chuckling at the hostile glare Aric shot him, “Good luck, Captain.”

“I thought I saw her whisper something to you,” Aric told Elara as they left the cantina.

“She did,” Elara replied, pulling the small beaded purse out of her pocket, “she told me to grab the purse she left on her chair.”

Aric opened the purse Elara handed him and found a key card with a note attached. Aric held it in front of him and they both read it.

Deucalon Spaceport storage locker D-975, there's a present for Garza inside. Tell Val I need to go underwear shopping tomorrow at noon and, no, Captain Crankypants can’t watch…..unless he can guess what I was wearing under that dress. Oh, and don’t lose the purse…….I kinda like it!

“She’s a cheeky one, isn’t she,” Elara grinned, starting to like the young Sergeant that was risking her life.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Aric muttered, his mind now on what that little minx could’ve had on under her dress, “We’ll check that locker after we get back from the Nikto Sector.”

“Should we contact her sister?” Elara asked.

“I’ll call her and Val in the taxi,” Aric nodded, “I’m assuming they’ll know where she’s talking about.”

I decided to have Aric come clean with Balkar about the Havoc defectors and who Tia really was. Balkar had access to records they needed to look into in regarding Tia and Kat's family as well as Val's.

@Yoshi,

Methic finally found his way out of the tower and stood alone in the plaza, looking up at the stars. Stepping over to the railing, he removed his black cape and let it fall over the side.

 

At last, his job was done.

I love the imagery of this. You can feel the relief at it all being over.

@EverSteam

'You were almost close to speaking smut then, Quinn. I think that was one of the most pleasant things I've ever heard you say.'

I like this. And of course he’d think it odd that she’d feel that way. Also, Quinn giving serious fashion advice somehow seems really natural.

@DSM,

“Who, Jonas? I don’t know if I’d call him a boyfriend. We just discuss military stuff over drinks… sometimes naked.”

 

“Hey, hey, HEEEY!” Bro’Kian made a warding gesture with his hands and shut his eyes tight. “I am NOT ‘need to know’ for that info! I’m just looking for a different perspective on our situation, not your after-hours life!”

Oh I laughed hard at that.

I loved the reveal of Fenn’rys’ grand plans for Havoc. So well planned and meticulous. I do hope we continue to see more of her; she’s so much fun.

@frauzet, Aww, Zal watching over Nik to make sure he’s OK. And love that’s they’ve made up. Although

“Hello honey.”

this concerns me.

@Bright, Quinn and Vette verbally poking each other with pointy sticks will always be entertaining. I love that his insults don’t ruffle her at all.

@Magdalane, Aw, I’ve always loved the way you write Corso. He’s so very sweet here.

@theStirge, I thought the end was nice, wrapped things up well. Agent stories where that spoiler thing gets resolved always make me happy. You can see just how relieved she is.

@alaurin,

focus Jorgan……don’t forget what she did to you last time you met.

Hehe, indeed. Tia is very good at this game isn’t she.