Prudii strode into the Thunderclap's crew quarters, trailed by his brother, Dha. Captain Aric Jorgan looked up from cleaning his rifle. Prudii tossed his helmet down on a bed and put his hands on his hips. Jorgan frowned, wondering what his CO wanted...and why a Mandalorian was here.

"Major," Jorgan said. "What's up?"

"Dha and I were talking and we just realized that I never gave him back that Mandalorian helmet that he lent us for that op a few months ago," Prudii said.

Jorgan frowned. "Yeah. Yeah, I remember that."

"You know where the helmet is?" Dha asked.

Jorgan frowned, trying to remember. Where had he seen that thing last? After they'd returned from the op, Prudii had stripped off his Mandalorian armor and Jorgan had taken it to the armory. The armor, with the exception of the helmet, had already belonged to Prudii...

"It's probably in the armory," Jorgan said.

He hopped up from where he was sitting and led them into the armory. Sure enough, there was the suit of armor, but no helmet. Jorgan frowned and began going through the rest of the squad's helmets. Maybe it had gotten mixed in. But after several minutes of searching, he found nothing.

"I have no idea where this could be," Jorgan said.

"Wait...you lost my helmet?" Dha exclaimed.

"No, no!" Jorgan replied. "It's here somewhere. It's gotta be!"

Prudii scratched at one of his cranial horns. "Well, if Jorgan put it in here, then one of the other squadmates must've taken it. Which means..."

"Vik," Jorgan growled.

They stormed into the cargo hold. Vik was sitting there, typing something on a datapad. Prudii cleared his throat. Vik looked up.

"Hey, boss," he said. "Wassup?"

"Have you seen a Mandalorian helmet?" Prudii asked.

"The one we used on that op a while back?"

Prudii nodded. "That's the one."

"I sold it," Vik said. "Used the creds to buy new chambers for the blasters."

"You sold it?" Dha exclaimed.

"To whom?" Prudii demanded, rage barely contained in his voice.

Jorgan winced, waiting for Prudii to blow his top. He probably owed his brother big for the helmet–and he'd be peeved at Vik for selling family property.

"Some Devaronian," Vik said. "Guy called Gault, or something like that?"

There was dead silence in the room for a moment. Then, in unison, Prudii and Dha burst into laughter.

"Oh, man!" Dha exclaimed. "Gault just bought something we already owned. He'll never live this one down."

Jorgan breathed a sigh of relief, turned, and walked back to the crew quarters. Crisis averted.

ha! That was funny, but it made me wonder how Gault could wear a helmet? That might make an extra pun

@Yoshi- RE: Chatting in a Cave- Zenith speaks! I kid, of course, but I'm glad you did him. I love his character.

RE: I Want It Back- A chuckle from me. At least it's not lost forever. I imagine Gault will have trouble living this down

@Frauzet- Gah, so close to being far enough along on my other toons to start up with my warrior! I swear I'll get all caught up when I do. About the Thorns story, though, I was a little confused as to who the perspective character was, but I found the piece over all to be quite fun. I think it's the first time I've ever seen Skadge painted in a positive light. Ever.

@DomiStotto- I like Iresso's attitude towards this whole thing: "It hasn't caused problems for years, why should it start now just because I know about it?" Nice bit. I also really liked Quinly's evaluation of what "Important" means for each of the companions. I love anything that contrasts all the personalities that reside on a typical character's ship.

@Alaurin- Don't worry about not commenting, I know it takes a ton of time, especially if you haven't posted in a while. Glad to see you back! About your piece- I snorted. But it was a happy/amused snort. We've all had that thing that we're not sure how to wash. Lingerie, wool sweaters, silk blouses, or, my current conundrum, FORMAL DRESSES (What would the droid do with those? ). I'd space C2 in a heartbeat if he ruined my stuff. Actually for a lot of reasons.

From: Lt. Mallena Dayne, Havoc Squad, Republic Army, Coruscant

To: Karinda Dayne, Mirial

Subject: Update- Sorry It Took So Long

Hi Mom!

How are you doing? How are the boys? Have you heard from Nalin lately?

Sorry it took so long to reply, but things have been crazy since I left Ord Mantell. Sgt. Jorgan and I tracked down Havoc Squad’s old CO and brought him back to our side, at least partially. I still don’t trust him, but he’s cooperating for now.

I met General Garza, and yes, all the rumors you’ve heard about her are true. I’m still trying to decide whether she’s the most loyal or the most terrifying officer I’ve ever served under. Maybe a bit of both. She’s heading up the operation to bring in my former squadmates. And would you believe it? Your little girl got to testify in front of the Senate. It was terrible.

I can’t give you many more details than that, since everything is pretty much need-to know. If the younger boys want to know, tell them I’m still on my secret mission, but that I’m OK and send my love.

But I have to tell you some good news. First, Procurement finally sorted out the equipment situation, so I have my plates back. They apparently are trying to rebrand Havoc Squad or something, since the new stuff is leafy green and white. I like it better than the orange, though. They even sent us new weapons. You should see my new rifle. Nice long barrel, trigger perfectly smooth, stalk fits right in my shoulder. And they’ve started adding something new to their blaster gas that makes them fire slightly faster.

I thought the Sgt. was going to kiss his new assault cannon. Whatever I think about him, he has at least one redeeming quality: he loves his tech as much as I do. Maybe we won’t kill each other on our trip across the galaxy after all ; ) Seriously, though, he’s not as bad to have around as I thought he would be. I guess sitting in a bunker all day dealing with stupid recruits and idiotic Procurement would put a stick up anyone’s butt. I’m still not sure how we’re going to spend a day or two along together, though. At least I’ve got him to start calling me Lieutenant, which is better than Sir. That just makes me feel like Dad.

Yes, I really did say a day or two alone, and it’s not as weird as what you’re probably thinking. And that’s the best news of all! Since chasing the old squad around is going to take a while, the general has assigned me my own ship! Who knows for how long, but I’m hoping that if I do well on this assignment, that they’ll let me keep it. It’s a brand new BT-7 Thunderclap, big guy, with room for transporting at least a dozen and housing half that. It’s not the prettiest ship, though. For some reason, all I can think of when I look at it is that it looks like a hammer, even though it doesn’t, really. So I named it Hammershot, which doesn’t sound quite as stupid as The Hammer.

If I can catch you on the holo sometime, I’ll give you and Dad and the boys a tour of the ship. I’m surprised at how nice it is. My cabin is bigger than my bedroom in any of the houses we’ve lived in. I’m not sure what I’ll do with all the space.

Would you mind sending along some of the stuff I left at home? I probably don’t have room for all of the boxes, but it would be nice to have some of my civvie clothes and some holodisks or something. I’d particularly like the one marked “Music supplies”

Send my love to everyone,

Lena

Sgt. Jorgan was finishing reassembling his assault cannon when he heard music from somewhere on the ship. No surprise there, the Lt. was still on board as far as he knew, but something sounded odd about it. He tightened the last piece in place and went to investigate.

The music grew louder as he approached her cabin. The door was ajar, and as he raised his hand to knock, he caught site of the Lt. She stood facing slightly away from the door with a look of dreamy concentration on her face. An open box marked “Music supplies” sat at her feet and she held a viol. The melody ended as she lifted the bow from the strings. After a brief pause, she began again, this time with a faster beat and a little foot tap.

Jorgan let his hand fall and returned to his quarters, smiling a little as the ship echoed with music.

I'm not sure what the equivalent to a violin in Star Wars is, so I made one up. Mallena was loosely inspired by (and shares a first name with) a very good friend of mine, and I knew I just couldn't have any version of her that wasn't a violinist, so, here we go.

I love epistolary narrative. I use it in my main fic, and I think it is a great way of highlighting the best of the game and giving it emotional depth. A nice take on the Trooper, and you made me smile about Jorgan. Heh, there seem to be a lot of Jorgan here lately! Interesting... Thank you for keeping the thread alive with a lovely story!

A Face Borrowed

“A pirate? Called Red Blade?!” Agent Dusk Fell exclaimed incredulously. “You can’t be serious, Handler! I don’t look an inch like a Red Blade!”

Jheeg responded with a long suffering pinch to his wide mouth. “But… Miss. Nobody knows the gender, species or appearance of the subject. It’s perfect.”

“Perfect?” Dusk Fell repeated, “perfect?!”

The Handler’s eyes took on a sorrowful glint, as he strained to grasp the problem. Dusk Fell sighed: “Do all of us look the same to you, is that it?”

“Well…” Jheeg shrugged.

The Agent jabbed her finger into Jheeg’s chest: “You listen to me then! A Red Blade brings to mind someone looking like a huge brute, a loud, obnoxious, bragging, half-drunk oaf! Whose one prized possession is a honking large vibrosword!”

Jheeg blinked.

“I am five foot tall on sensible heels!”

Jheeg sighed.

"...armed with a riffle!”

Jheeg licked his lips.

“I am a Chiss, Jheeg, a Chiss! Can’t we go with a Blue, erm… blue… anything?”

Jheeg blinked again. “No, Miss, your papers are drafted for Red---“

Agent Dusk Fell slapped her fist on his desk, making him jump.

“Red… red can refer to your eyes, Miss,” Jheeg suggested pulling his collar away from his scrawny neck.

“And the blade is my vibroknife, I suppose?” Dusk Fell asked quietly.

“Yes, yes…” Jheeg nodded enthusiastically, missing the acid in her tone.

She snaked across the table, grabbed his shirt, twisted and pulled him nose to nose with her. “Jheeg… Do. You. Have. Anything. Else.”

“There is… there is this prostitute—“ Jheeg stammered.

“I can work with this,” Dusk Fell nodded, releasing him.

“..turned a pit-fighter…” Jheeg continued slumping back into his chair.

Dusk Fell frowned: “Perhaps…”

“a Twi’lek…” he said, leafing through a file on his desk.

Dusk Fell’s exasperated breath almost blew him out of the doors. “You have a magic lekku growing paste?”

Jheeg wisely kept his mouth shut as Dusk Fell paced his tiny office.

She pulled her dark shades off. She drew her service knife from its secret sheath in her boot. Jheeg whimpered, but Dusk Fell simply attached it to the chain around her neck to display it prominently.

“Yo, mate, me cover gets blown, ye goin’ t’dance out of me airlock,” the Agent Dusk Fell… no, Red Blade said stomping towards the orange swamps of Hutta. There was a new swagger to her step, and Jheeg would have sworn that she loomed over things despite the diminutive height and insignificant bulk.

//

“My Lord?” Captain Quinn appealed for her attention. Lord Becchino turned from her contemplation of the Galaxy Map.

“Report,” she commanded brusquely.

“Your agent is planted,” Captain reported. There was a small something in her subordinate’s tone that made her… curious.

“More abnormalities, Captain?” Becchino loathed having to ask.

Captain Quinn hesitated: “No, my Lord. However, the cover story is not the most successful. The Agent might have difficulties adhering to it.”

Ah. “Captain, I suggest you research the meaning of the word dispensable, and then type it a hundred times,” Lord Becchino quietly suggested and turned back to the map.

Captain Quinn bowed to her back. “Of course, my Lord. I will bring my work for your review once I am finished.”

Lord Becchino barked through her gritted teeth: “Unnecessary, Captain.”

A wishful thinking, that.

They are strange, those who always called themselves I. They are afraid of death, pain, nakedness, the list goes on. Now, Rat is also an I. They gave Rat… me… they gave me clothes, vibrosword and this datapad. They told me that I must know how to read before I land on Korriban. I talk to the datapad. It types. I try to make symbols into words. It is hard to know what to say.

I will talk about becoming I.

First, they took the collars off. No. First they brought us topside from the mine. There were many soldiers. They lined us up and took off our collars. We prostrated ourselves. The Voice said the soldiers will shoot us, but we can fight back. At first I stayed on my hands and knees; there was shooting and crying. The Voice kept saying we must fight. I got up and looked at the soldiers. I sensed fear. They did not fear a naked slave. They feared my people. How would they know that I was born a slave, and know less of my species than they do? Yet I have one trick I used to help me loosen the rocks in the mine. I’ve shocked the closest soldier who aiming at me. Everything came to a sudden halt. A Voice said from a platform high above: “Well, well. I don’t know if I should be relieved that it worked for once, or disgusted. Bring him over.”

They dragged me up the platform and threw me before a figure dressed in bright clothes. A Sith Lord. “Your name. NOW!” he spat.

I said it’s Ruvvoy. It means nothing but sounds like words my people use between themselves. They never speak to me, of course. And they got killed fast. I think they seek to be killed. So, everyone calls me Ruvvoy now. That’s good. I’ve never liked being called Rat. Rats are for eating.

The Sith Lord told me that I won my freedom, and I am going to Korriban. He kicked me so I pay attention and told me the rules. Then he turned away and ordered a bath to be drawn for him. That’s when they gave me clothes, vibrosword and this datapad. They put me on a ship to Korriban.

I keep hearing the Voice in my head.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

Through passion, I gain strength.

Through strength, I gain power.

Through power, I gain victory.

Through victory, all chains are broken.

I am not afraid of death, pain, nakedness and all other things they are afraid of. The Voice commands me. I cannot break all collars, of course. I will break as many as I can before they kill me. The Force freed me, and it will free all. Through me. Through others. Through all.

Through victory, all chains are broken.

Through victory, all chains are broken.

Through victory, all chains are broken.

…

Thanks for the comments on my last story. Skadge is a challenge to both Thorns and me, one that we both accepted. Otherwise I would have dumped him on some backwater planet story wise and would have let Blizz do the tanking ingame. And yes, if you give him a chance, he can be a valuable part of the crew.

@Striges: I am always glad when somebody mentions a contrast in personalities of my chars as I am not always certain they come out as being that different. As a Mirialan Rufuro's believe in and acceptance of destiny is more or less part of his cultural background at least till his captivity. Ciner is the one who is intent on forging his own destiny. His relationship with Rufuro already changed that attitude a bit and the encounter with Ragate plays a major role for Ciner on Korriban.

@DomiSotto:

"Honey, I Can Deal": I always like it when companions are shown to have a life of their own besides being a crewmember.

"A Face Borrowed": I laughed a lot, especially liked the 'blue ... anything'.

"An Apprentice": These Sith do not sound very superior... Hope to see more of Ruvvoy.

@alaurin: Best part is the rest of the crew discussing whose job it is to stop their CO from spacing the droid. Never stand in the way of a woman who is in a righteous fury because her favorite bra has been ruined.

(I actually never experienced this. My husband only ruined two of my wool pullovers once. I think they still exist as doll's clothes somewhere.)

@YoshiRaphElan: That was a nice plot twist.

@Mirdthestrill: The letter shows a very personal Mallena. I like the way she describes Jorgan to her mom. I smiled at the prospect of giving the family a tour of the ship. I took some tours through my sisters' houses myself via skype.

“See you later!”

Thorns arrived just when Mako disconnected the holo terminal. “Hey!”

“Hey, big guy!” she exclaimed cheerfully. A smile lit up her face and her eyes sparkled.

He loved to see her smile like this. His only regret was that he wasn’t the one who caused it.

“Anything new since last we talked?” Thorns asked her. They had been in constant contact the whole day. He had been scouting the Duros Sector for their rivals and Mako had been browsing the holonet for information.

“Nope. Don’t worry, we’ll find them!”

“Of course we will!” Thorns sat down on the couch they had newly acquired and took off his boots. He wriggled his toes and sighed. The new boots provided much better protection but the weight required some getting used to. A shower, a beer, and something edible and he’d go to sleep peacefully.

“Apropos finding; where is Ungry?” Thorns asked as he pulled off his socks—despite Mako’s disapproving look. He made a mental note to put the socks into the laundry basket on his way to the shower.

“Yes, that’s something to worry about. I haven’t seen him all afternoon.”

Thorns whistled once. Cackling laughter echoed through the ship seemingly coming from every direction at once, the source hidden somewhere behind the plating and impossible to locate. Ungry had heard him. They didn’t have to wait long before the monkey lizard’s little head appeared in one of the ventilation shafts. Imitating Thorns’ whistling he climbed down to the floor and sauntered over to the couch.

“So, what have you been hatching this afternoon?”

“Noon? Ungry treat?” Ungry held out both his little hands.

“Later. First a shower, then we find something to eat.”

Ungry frowned. “Ungry treat!”

When Thorns tried to pick him up, Ungry jumped backward, snatched one of Thorns socks, raced up the wall, and vanished back into the ventilation shaft.

Thorns’ “Hey, bring my sock back!” was answered with more cackling laughter.

“Guess that one’s lost.”

“Kark!” Mako swore, arms akimbo. “Now I know what has happened to all my missing laundry. He must be building some kind of nest somewhere. I owe the droid an apology.”

“I hadn’t missed anything yet. Seems like he’s preferring your clothes, good for me,” Thorns assessed with a wink.

“It’s all right for you to laugh! He didn’t steal your best shirt.” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Mako, you little genius, that’s it! Young man, I am going to borrow your red shirt!”

“Sure, guess I won’t need it in the foreseeable future. Although I doubt it will fit you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit!”

“Now I am worried for my shirt!”

Mako placed a hand over her heart “I promise to return it unscathed.” She looked at her chrono. “Sheesh! I am late. Can I have the refresher first?” She was already on the way to his room, returned shortly afterward, and raised a hand with his shirt. “Found it, thank you!”

“What do you plan on doing tonight?”

“I’ll be meeting an old friend.” Omitting further elaboration Mako disappeared in the refresher.

“I’d appreciate it if you left some hot water for me!” Thorns called after her. He got rid of his chest protector and his greaves. Without those the jumpsuit was rather comfortable—as was the couch. He zapped through the available holonet channels until he found some local Nar Shaddaa news.

Mako’s light knock on the door frame woke him up. His weariness was blown off as soon as he got a first glimpse of her. He got to a sitting position to admire her more thoroughly. “Wow!”

She wore his red shirt; but it looked nothing like when he wore it. She had donned her tight black leatheris jeans and a tight black top he didn’t recognize. The shirt substituted a jacket. Mako had rolled the sleeves up to her elbows. The buttons remained opened, a knot above her belt buckle kept the shirt from slipping. The outfit emphasized all the right features. She looked gorgeous. Thorns was speechless.

“From the look on your face I take it I passed the inspection. You may close your mouth now!” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

“You look great!”

“Thank you!” She headed toward the stairs. “Don’t wait for me. I’ll be back late!”

“Have fun!” Thorns managed before she was gone.

Meeting an old friend, huh? In a twinge of jealousy he was tempted to check the holo terminal to find out whom she had been talking to. She hadn’t told him, so it was none of his business. Better to check how much hot water was left.

Nice touches of domesticity! Yep, introduction of Ungry adds a lovely touch to the story! I'll miss him on my bear of a Bounty Hunter. But I now have an astromech droid and whatever that new crittier is His Mako though can't wear a red shirt with your Mako's panache - it will clash with her hair Thanks for sharing this delightful scene!

turn out like Annuli...

Jess stared vacantly out over the crowd in the auditorium. This was soooo boring. First, the speeches. Then the holoimages of each student. Then the handing over of the diplomas, their holocubes flashing school colors. And now more speeches. Couldn’t she just graduate and be done with it? She’d much rather be trying out her new starship today.

Andonina finished talking and sat down. Kortal stood up and stepped to the podium. The teachers had picked them to tell everyone how wonderful the school was because Andonia was the class president and Kortal had the highest grades of anyone who had graduated in recent memory, though that didn’t keep him from being an insufferable windbag. And then there was Jess. Who had to figure out how to tell her parents what she’d done with her life savings.

She glanced down at the datapad in her hand. Her words had been edited by her parents, her friends, the teacher, and the principle, so she wasn’t even sure they qualified as her words anymore. If she had known that everyone would practically write the speech for her, she wouldn’t have wasted so much time on it. It kept the gist of it, but who talked like that in real life?

Kortal droned on. What was he even talking about? It sounded suspiciously like the speech she was about to give, except delivered in his arrogant monotone that made her want to run screaming for the nearest surgeon to have her ear cones removed. Stars, she hated that boy!

She looked down again. Greetings, gentlebeings. I’m very glad you could all be here today as we celebrate our passage into adulthood. That was probably her mother’s work. I was chosen by popular vote of the graduating class to deliver the final part of our message to you today. And that was definitely the principal’s.

Finally, Kortal finished with a smarmy “Have a nice day” and stepped down. Her turn.

Jess stepped to the podium, finding her parent’s faces in the audience. Did they know what she had done yet? They were still smiling, so obviously not. She laid the datapad on the smooth durasteel surface. Tapped its screen back on. Took a deep breath. “Greetings, gentlebeings. I’m very glad you could all be here today as we celebrate our passage into adulthood.” Stars, she sounded just like Kortal!

She continued. “…and I will forever be grateful for the wonderful friends I have made, the deep bonds I have formed with my teachers, and the stirring new things I have learned in my years here…”

This was so stupid.

“This is stupid.” There. She said it. Now, for the proton torpedo that would blow everything else out of space. “I’m supposed to get up here and tell you all what wonderful things I plan to do with my life and how I’m going to change the galaxy and all that crap.”

The audience shifted. She grinned. “But I’m not gonna. Instead, I’ll tell you what I did yesterday. I bought my own ship. Yes, Mom and Dad, I really did. She’s gorgeous, an XS freighter with enlarged cargo hold, advanced engines…” She saw a teacher starting to come her way. Better talk fast.

“And I’m gonna run my own shipping company, and see the entire galaxy before I kick the bucket. And hopefully make a trillion credits while I’m at it. I, uh, I guess that’s all I have to say.”

The teacher, one of the phys-ed ones who stood a head and a half taller than she did, politely shoved Jess out of the way and said. “Thank you, Jessasi. You may sit down.”

She did, feeling everyone stare. She couldn't believe it herself. Did she seriously just blow the announcement like that?

It's brave of Jesse to make an announcement like that publically, very rebellious and in character for a Smuggler. And, oi, it must have been a very protracted ceremony with everyone saying their piece Cheers! And good to see another story!

@Yoshi: Oh, I can totally see Vik pulling that stunt and I was laughing at the thought of Gault buying something Dha already owned!

@Mirdthestrill: I loved the Hammershot piece and how it started off as a letter to her mother. Those personal touches make it feel so real. Also, her playing her instrument at the end was a nice touch......again, making her a real person that the reader could relate to.

Then the Graduation Day piece was great! I love Jess and could just picture her sitting there, bored out of her mind as the speeches droned on. I can totally empathize and agree......why can't you just get your diploma?! I love that she decided not to use the approved speech, choosing to just let it all out instead, and I'll just bet her parents weren't smiling anymore!

@Alaurin- Don't worry about not commenting, I know it takes a ton of time, especially if you haven't posted in a while. Glad to see you back! About your piece- I snorted. But it was a happy/amused snort. We've all had that thing that we're not sure how to wash. Lingerie, wool sweaters, silk blouses, or, my current conundrum, FORMAL DRESSES (What would the droid do with those? ). I'd space C2 in a heartbeat if he ruined my stuff. Actually for a lot of reasons.

@DomiSotto: I loved the Face Borrowed piece, but this exchange:

She snaked across the table, grabbed his shirt, twisted and pulled him nose to nose with her. “Jheeg… Do. You. Have. Anything. Else.”

 

“There is… there is this prostitute—“ Jheeg stammered.

 

“I can work with this,” Dusk Fell nodded, releasing him.

 

“..turned a pit-fighter…” Jheeg continued slumping back into his chair.

 

Dusk Fell frowned: “Perhaps…”

 

“a Twi’lek…” he said, leafing through a file on his desk.

 

Dusk Fell’s exasperated breath almost blew him out of the doors. “You have a magic lekku growing paste?”

 

Jheeg wisely kept his mouth shut as Dusk Fell paced his tiny office.

Then the Apprentice piece was moving. You captured the brutally harsh life of a slave well and how one begins to exit that life and enter a wholly different one.....having to learn to read, write, and even speak.

@frauzet: Uh-oh.....laundry stealing pets! I loved it! It seems women everywhere can always make use of men's clothing in a pinch......and Thorns is getting a little tongue tied over his slicer/medic.

Jasin's lightsaber flashed as he cut down the last of the Czerka forces in his path. He heard panting behind him, and Kira straightened, her last opponent cut down, as well. Sweat matted Jasin's hair to his forehead and he wiped tiredly at his brow.

He glanced around the warehouse. Czerka forces were loading supplies onto trams that would take them away from CZ-198 to some unknown location. Jasin's jaw clenched. Clearly, Czerka was planning on becoming a third party in the war between the Republic and the Empire. Well, he couldn't let that happen.

Jasin and Kira leapt into another group of Czerka mercenaries and battle droids, cutting them down before they had a chance to react. Jasin sensed danger behind him....

He whirled, his lightsaber raised. It clashed against a copper-colored lightsaber blade. Moving swiftly, Jasin slashed at his unknown opponent, a duel that went back and forth for several moments. Finally, they stopped for a moment, their lightsabers at each other's throats. Jasin frowned.

"Methic?"

Methic's head tilted. "Jasin?"

The two of them laughed and they lowered their lightsabers.

"I guess the Empire wants to stop Czerka too, huh?" Jasin said.

"Yeah," Methic confirmed.

Jasin grinned. "Well, that's lucky. What do you say? Together, for old times' sake?"

Methic removed his second lightsaber from his belt and ignited it. The two of them leapt into battle together, cutting down Czerka forces.

@DomiSotto: One of the reasons I like the BH best is probably the fact that I am very often reminded of my time in a shared apartment. Glad you liked my story.

@Mirdthestrill: Mako grew up on Nar Shaddaa and she has learned quite a few tricks from Braden since. Thorns is sure she can manage for an evening without him. He would have preferred to play bodyguard but he knows better than to even suggest it. Anyway he promised not to treat her like a child.

Guess nobody will call Jess' speech boring. She'll be remembered in awe for decades among pupils to come. Nice and fitting start for a smuggler, to speak her mind instead of delivering the speech other's wrote for her.

@alaurin: pets, droids,... danger for laundry everywhere

@Striges: Thank you, glad you liked it.

@YoshiRaphElan: I imagine them counting their foes like a certain elf and dwarf...

His final trial; retrieving a lightsaber from the Forbidden Chamber in the tomb of Naga Sadow, afterwards he would be Baras’ apprentice. ‘Apprentice Ciner’, it sounded strange. He assumed it would take some time to swap it for ‘Lord Ciner Ignis’. But he should not get too far ahead of himself. His father was still young and healthy. If nothing untoward happened there was no need to worry about replacing him yet. He’d have enough time to acquire an appropriate rank.

‘Your house can’t afford to lose you!’ What was it that Ragate had seen?

Passing through Baras’ antechamber, he did not fail to notice, that Vemrin, his sole remaining rival, was not waiting as their master had instructed. It did not require genius to conclude where Vemrin would be headed. He would be waiting for him inside Naga Sadow’s tomb. As far as Ciner was concerned he could wait. Vemrin was not going to get anywhere without the slave.

The slave; he had a dim recollection of her. A blue Twi’lek; she had been present when he had interrogated the prisoners on one of his earlier trials. Good, she, too, would remember. Pondering his options on how to best compel her to cooperate, he made his way down the stairs.

As he entered the jail he found Knash the jailer and the slave engrossed in the game they seemingly had been playing since his last visit to the premises. She riled him and he obliged her by extensive use of the remote to her shock collar.

Female Twi’lek in general were said to make excellent slaves. Apparently this one had not been informed of the fact. The welts and bruises that had covered her blue skin the first time he had seen her, had faded to mere shadows. Her neck on the other hand showed that the stupid little thing had been provoking the jailer more than was healthy for her. Despite the pain she must be experiencing she held her head high, and he could sense the contempt she was feeling for her tormentor. She had not broken yet. Impressive.

But that was as far as impressive went. She was small and petite, lacking any noteworthy curves. Her lekku weren’t exceptionally long and the color of her skin was nearing a shade of unhealthy gray. Her scent would do a bantha proud. He adjusted the settings of the olfactory receptors of his implants.

‘The key to your succeed is a small and sorry creature.’ Yes, Ciner had to admit that Ragate’s soothsaying was quite accurate. So the girl was the key to the tomb. If she was able to open it, the mechanism operated without Force for she was definitely Force-blind. Given how many scientists and scholars had examined the tomb in the last years without being able to open the Forbidden Chamber, Ciner knew with all certainty he wouldn’t open it on his own.

Watching Knash and the Twi’lek from the door he decided it was not his best option to torture her further. He didn’t doubt he could break her. But it would take time. Vemrin would wait, but Baras would not be overly patient with his apprentice to be. Ciner could not afford to incapacitate her. She had to be able to operate the locking mechanism after all. And the tomb would be dangerous enough without having to drag a disabled slave along.

What was it Ragate had said furthermore? ‘A small and sorry creature—but you can shape it in your image.’ If she were not a slave what would get her to cooperate?

As he stepped into the room jailer and slave deigned to notice him at last. After a short exchange with an undue amicable Knash, the jailer handed over the Twi’lek along with the remote control to her shock collar. Through the Force Ciner had felt the tremors of well hidden fear when she had recognized him. She had recalled his first visit to the jail as surely as he had. Back then he had sent one prisoner to Imperial Intelligence, killed one, and had sentenced the last one to further torture. Knash had spoiled the suspense when he had told the Twi’lek that Ciner needed her in the tomb. The jailer remedied his faux pas by setting the shock collar to a higher level.

All the way out of the Academy building she walked a few steps behind him to his right. Neither of them spoke. He made a show of caressing the button on the remote with his thumb. He was sure her eyes never left the remote for long.

When they were outside of the building he turned slightly towards her and beckoned her forward without slowing his stride. “What is your name?”

“Vette.”

“You see Vette, I know what this higher setting of the shock collar does. Do you?”

She shook her head, eyes wide, lekku twitching. “No, but if you already know what it does, I could be convinced to pass on a demonstration.”

“Now, that’s very altruistic of you.”

“That’s just who I am.”

“You know what, Vette? In case you regret your sacrifice later, I’ll give the remote to you.” He held it out to her. “Go on, take it!”

She took the device carefully.

“In case you get curious, just press the button.”

“Press the button. Easy. Got it!”

“There is one other thing you should know lest you should consider to do something stupid. I won’t need the shock collar to punish you, and if you make me punish you, you’ll wish I’d used the collar instead. So do us both a favor and press the button yourself should you feel in need of a reminder.”

“I am sure your presence will be reminder enough.”

“We’ll get along just fine then.”

They walked on in silence. Vette struggled to keep up with him, puffing slightly. Weeks in a holding cell had a habit of taking a toll on a prisoner’s physical condition.

“This isn’t the way to the tomb,” Vette noted after a while. Her sense of direction was good.

“Are you in a hurry?” Ciner grinned. “Maybe you don’t want to keep Knash waiting too long.”

Vette rolled her eyes. “Yes, I am sure he misses me already. We were inseparable before you ripped us apart.”

“Guess I will have to bring you back then after you opened the tomb.”

“Wow, that’s more than any girl could hope for!”

“I’ll add a bonus to doing my best to bring you back alive.”

“What could be even better than returning to my cell and a more than caring Knash?”

“Well, I thought I would be able to spare some time to let you examine the chamber, but if you are not interested…” Ciner shrugged.

“Wait! You’ll really let me take a look around? Seriously?”

“Seriously! No souvenirs, though!”

“The showcases in my cell are overstuffed anyway.” There was a spring in her step that had not been there earlier.

“How much time do I get?”

“Get us in and I will be generous!”

The quartermaster was dubious about handing two blasters to a slave. Ciner had decided to follow his instincts once more. Vette might be a stupid little thing but she wasn’t that stupid. Her being armed would raise both their chances to survive. Killing Ciner would do nothing to help her. And she was eager to investigate the Forbidden Chamber. At least until then they’d be working together.