Kirya walked onto the lot again. The Duros she’d been talking to hustled up immediately, “You’re back,” he said, his Basic tinted with Duros inflection. He held out his hand.

Kirya took it in a firm handshake, “I’m back, Jinzo. I told you I would be.”

He released her hand and tugged at his sleeve, “Didn’t expect you so soon. That CR25 you were looking at is gone, though. I said she’d go fast; that was a nice little ship.”

“Oh darn. I liked that one.”

“So did a bunch of other people.” Jinzo waved her onto the lot.

“Figures. So what else do you have?” Kirya followed, weaving around the swoops, speeders, and small transports that were the yard’s main business.

“Still got the Dynamic-class you liked, the yellow one. Also that Ghtroc 720 you were looking at.”

Kirya craned her neck to look past the fence into the freighter yard, “Hey, that’s new,” she said, “XS?”

Jinzo stopped, “Oh, that one? Yeah, CGS XS freigher. Just got her in. She hasn’t even been through detail yet so she’s pretty scruffy.”

“Can I see her?”

Jinzo rubbed his non-chin, “I don’t know, technically she’s not on the lot yet. Boss doesn’t like us showing ships that haven’t been detailed.”

“Why? I mean, if I ask to see her before she’s all cleaned up I know she’s not going to look as nice as some of the other ones,” Kirya said.

“Yeah, well, it’s not always a good idea.”

“How bad could it be?”

Jinzo rolled his shoulders, “Boss picked one up at the impound auction, had a compartment full of life-size, inflatable Twi’lek se—er girl dolls. And I mean full. All jammed in there. The manifest listed them as ‘emergency oxygen supply’. The detailers had to pop ‘em to get ‘em all out of there.”

Kirya laughed, “You’re kidding right?”

Jinzo put his hand over his heart, “Jedi’s honor. And that’s not counting routine stuff like years of nutrition pack wrappers shoved under the seats or cockpit windows so grimy you can’t see through them. Weird stuff just kills a sale.”

“Aww, so you’re not looking out for me after all?” Kirya asked.

“Nope, I’m looking out for my commission.”

“Can I see it? Please?” Kirya wheedled, “I promise I won’t freak out if we find a baby Hutt in the ‘fresher.”

Jinzo shuddered, “How about that nice Dynamic-class? She’s all ready to go.”

“Please?”

Jinzo scratched his jaw, “I don’t know. You serious this time?”

“Aw, Jinzo, I’m always serious.”

“Ha. You’ve been a looky-loo for months.”

“I just haven’t seen the right ship.”

“All right, serious this time. Ship like that in good condition would go 12-mil easy. You even have a chance at financing?”

Kirya flashed a credstick, “Pre-approved. A real IGBC loan. Cash, as far as you’re concerned. So can I see her now?”

Jinzo put out one hand, “Lemme see.” He looked at the numbers. “I guess you are serious. All right, let’s go see her.”

Jinzo lead her to the craft. There she was, a battered XS freighter, once a lively red. Micrometeorites and atmospheric friction had taken their toll on the paint; it was oxidized dull and scratched to the primer in places. Jinzo leaned against one of the landing gear, hiding a smear of carbon-scoring, “I’m going to regret this,” he muttered. “So, still want to go look?”

Kirya took in the ship, “How old you say she was?”

“I didn’t. Five years,” he replied.

“Wow. I would have pegged her older. That her name? Fifty Percent?” Kirya pointed to a set of faded yellow aurebesh letters stenciled to the side of the cockpit.

Jinzo consulted his datapad, “Fifty Percent, yeah. You can change it for a fee when you register her with the Bureau of Ships and Services.”

“It’s not a bad name,” Kirya said, walking around the perimeter.

Jinzo shifted his position around the landing gear to keep her in sight. And continue to hide the suspicious—if superficial—damage, “Not at all. Makes people think you’re honest. You know, splitting fifty-fifty.”

Kirya stopped her inspection, “You’re smooth, Jinzo.”

“Just stating a fact, Kirya. ”

She giggled, “I’d like to see the inside.”

“After you,” he said, motioning up the gangplank. Kirya preceded him to the hatch, which was sealed with a dealer’s uni-comp. Jinzo unlocked it and the hatch slid open.

Kirya wrinkled her nose, “Is that spice?” she asked.

“Smells like Ryll, yeah,” conceded Jinzo, “Stick an ozone generator in here for a day and that’ll be gone. She’ll smell fresh as Alderaan mountain air.”

The pair of them stepped into the corridor. Kirya glanced around, ignoring the funky odor. The bulkheads had gone a nasty shade of yellow. “The recirculators check out?” she asked, venturing down the corridor toward the engine compartment.

“Mechanical checks are decent. Her maintenance record is patchy—“

“No kidding.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes that’s just because of where an owner gets the maintenance done, or who does it, if you know what I mean,” Jinzo said, “This little model is already speedy. Her hyperdrive is the standard 1.3, faster than the old Dynamic-class. Maneuvering thrusters are complete 360, so she’s nimble. The grease rats went over her already and recommended some repairs. We’ll take care of those of you want. Roll it into the price so it’s not out-of-pocket to you.”

Kirya peered into the engine compartment, “I bet new filters is on the list.”

“On top. After the ozone generator.”

Kirya stepped back into the hallway, “Sure she’s not still carrying?”

“What, spice? Naa. Looks more like the last owner was a spicehead, which would explain a lot,” Jinzo replied, “Ryll’s not exactly illegal most places, and a real smuggler would never give a nosy customs agent such an obvious invite.”

“What did you do before selling used starships, Jinzo?” asked Kirya.

“I don’t believe I ever said, Kirya,” Jinzo replied, blinking large red eyes. “I think you’re confusing genuine knowledge and concern for the needs of my clients with some sort of shady, mysterious background.”

“Knowledge and concern, huh?”

“Of course,” Jinzo said, changing the subject, “She’s got the standard XS layout. Crew or passenger bunks are right across the way here, cargo hold, the galley up ahead on the left, captain’s quarters just after. Readout doesn’t show she’s been modified, though most XS-class are.”

“Hmm. Is that unusual? To be stock?” Kirya asked, looking into the galley. Interlocking rings of some dark evaporated liquid decorated the prep counter. One of the lower cabinet doors hung partway open, alumina beverage canisters spilling out onto the floor.

“Not given how lazy this guy was,” Jinzo peered over Kirya’s shoulder. “If she’d been detailed you’d never even have known this was here. The mess is superficial. Easy fix. She’s a solid ship.”

“I want to see the inspection report. Captain’s quarters up ahead?” asked Kirya, backing out.

“On the left, yeah,” Jinzo held his breath as she activated the door.

“Oh my,” she said, giggling, “that’s, um, interesting décor.” The only light in the room came from a glittering ball on the ceiling. It rotated slowly, sending small spots of light in random patterns over the walls. The silhouette of an enormous, reclining nude humanoid female decorated the wall opposite the door, not unlike a cantina advert. In fact…Kirya stepped into the room and checked the lower corner of the cutout. Sure enough, engraved in the surface was the legacy ‘property of Silent Sun Cantina’. “How hard to remove all this, Jinzo?”

“No trouble at all. I’ll write that into the contract. In fact, you pick the interior colors and we’ll repaint the whole thing. She’ll be just what you want.”

Kirya nodded, “Let’s see the cockpit.”

They moved through the lounge. Dirt dulled the deckplates, except for the phantom outlines of missing furniture or old cargo. Undoubtedly the old owner offloaded whatever he’d wanted to keep. A well-defined trail led to the ship’s command center.

The cockpit was as indifferently maintained as everything else. Light from the overheads in the shipyard illuminated layers of dust and dirt. Only the controls on the left-hand station were clean, and that from obvious use.

Jinzo pointed out a few of the controls, “The real beauty of these XS-class is their flexibility. They’re perfect for a solo captain. You can run everything from here. Hyperdrive, atmospheric repulsorlifts, cargo lifts, armament, sensors, whatever you need. She’s already configured for single-station flight. If you have a crew, you can turn select systems over to direct operation and keep the rest. You can convert to run mostly freight, or passengers, whatever you want. Really sweet little ship, even if she looks a mess right now. So what do you think?”

Kirya ran her hands over the leatheris back of the captain’s chair. You’ve had a hard life, haven’t you, Fifty Percent. Someone didn’t take very good care of you. Bought you all bright and shiny. Then he didn’t fix you when you hurt, didn’t bother keeping you clean and got rid of you when something newer and shinier came along. He got what he wanted from you then he threw you away.

“Kirya?” Jinzo prodded.

“Her record clean?” she asked.

“B.O.S.S. search was good. She’s not hot. SINs and CINs all match to record, only real blip was the incomplete maintenance.”

“How much?”

“Boss had her pegged at 12mil, like I said.”

“Yeah, but she needs work. Eight.”

“Aw, Kirya, I can’t let her go for eight, she’s worth a lot more than that. Eleven-five and I’ll throw in the paint job and straightening out the captain’s stateroom.”

“Nine with the remodel.”

“You’re killing me. Eleven.”

“Nine-five, and you take care of all the maintenance issues.”

“Can’t do that for less than ten, Kirya, the inspection recommends at least half a mil in repairs.”

“Ten then,” Kirya said, “Come on, I’m taking her off your hands, she won’t take up space on your yard, any you won’t have to refit her for another buyer. Cash in hand, Jinzo.”

Jinzo rubbed his non-chin, “I don’t know, I’d have to talk to the sales manager.”

“Oh, don’t play that card, Jinzo. Can you cut the deal or not?”

Jinzo sighed, “Ten-five.”

“Ten, but I’ll authorize up to half a mil contingency to cover unforeseen issues the grease rats find when they get into her guts.”

“You cover the B.O.S.S. registration fees?”

“Can you roll it into the price?”

“Fifty grand. Yeah I can do that,” Jinzo fiddled with his datapad, “Ten million fifty thousand, interior refurbish, ownership transfer, all repairs on the list with an additional five-hundred thousand contingency if needed. Deal?” Jinzo asked, holding out the datapad.

Kirya authorized the contract, “Deal”

“Congratulations, Kirya Bilali, you just bought a ship.”

On abbreviations: IGBC is Intergalactic Banking Clan, which is mentioned in the EU at least. SIN and CIN are stand-ins for current automotive VIN, for Ship Identification Number and Component Identification Number. B.O.S.S., Bureau of Ships and Services, is in the Star Wars RPG books.

Rylon patted down the cowlick that the shorter hair around his face insisted on forming. Again.

Mitka. She was a Sith, a real Sith, red-skinned, strong, lovely. Had a few weaknesses in Ataru form, and appeared to be entirely new to Soresu, but then, she probably hadn't had the advantage of intense lightsaber lessons since age six. It gave him a reason to watch her, anyway, with the chance of actually being useful about it after. He wondered whether she ever watched him practicing.

The flush of victory from seeing Mitka's notebook – and if any other girl had been embellishing his name it would be the dumbest thing ever, but out of her it was cute beyond words – faded fast while he prepped for dinner. At six.

It would be on the broad open terrace where most of the teenaged students took their meals. A secluded place, tempting though it would be, screamed deathtrap. He didn't want to give the wrong impression.

He staked out a small table and waited. The place wasn't well populated today; that was just as well. In case he screwed up or something. It took most of the control he had to make the movement to his feet something less than a jump when Mitka showed her face.

She was wearing…robes, sort of, but prettier. Maybe a dress? He was no good at classifying. Something dark that accentuated her waist and managed to outline a lot without showing much. Crud. Was I supposed to dress up?

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she said. "Let's see what things are there, right? For food. To eat." She was really cute when she was nervous.

"Let's."

She recovered her balance on the way, and the first smile she gave him at the serving tables was downright knowing. She can tell I'm nervous and I didn't even say anything yet. She's better at this than I am.

He had to come up with something. "You said you had a Force theory test tomorrow? I can give you the drill if you want to multitask here."

"Favored subject of yours?"

He laughed. "Hardly. I'm terrible with the theoretical stuff, which is why I bang my head against the readings 'til they're practically memorized. I couldn't explain a thing, but if you want to pretend I'm a textbook…"

"You're pretty good-looking for a textbook," she said, with a faux-critical air. He hoped it was faux.

The terrace was even less populated by the time they got back to their table and started eating. Rylon didn't mind. Feeling more alone with Mitka was...nice. On the other hand, he was rapidly discovering that his extensive experience with ignoring people wasn't doing him any favors in the conversation department.

At least Mitka was willing to chat. "Oh, that?" She looked at the scar on her hand that he had been unintentionally staring at. "Old argument with my little brother Marek."

"Marek. I think I've seen him around. Yellow eyes, like yours, only a lot less pretty."

Mitka had an impish grin. "That would be the one. Do you have any siblings?"

"No, it's just me."

"Count yourself lucky. He's a pain in the neck."

"And the hand, apparently." He traced the scar with one finger; he thought she gasped at the touch, but he couldn't be sure. "I could give him a healthy dose of fear if you like."

Mitka wrinkled her nose. "I can handle him on my own, thanks."

"Right. Of course." Idiot.

Just then a loud slam sounded from well beyond the edge of the terrace. Rylon abruptly realized that Mitka was the only other person out here with him.

"Come on," he said, and beckoned for her to follow him to the railing to see what was going on. A huge, hunched-over horned monster was rampaging across the yard, flinging students and ancient stone columns aside as it went. It fixed onto Rylon with tiny glowing red eyes.

"What is that?" Rylon asked before it occurred to him to make the question calm and non-squeaky.

Mitka sounded perfectly collected. "It looks like a terentatek. A very small one. I've read about them. Tremendously Force-resistant. Somebody probably dragged this baby out of one of the tombs for kicks."

"The kicks are coming our way."

With a rumbling running start, the beast pounded into a sprint and leaped for the terrace. Rylon whipped out his saber, activated his shield, and turned as the monster sailed overhead to face it when it landed. "So what've you read about killing them?" he asked.

"I hear hitting it with lightsabers helps," she said. She had her own red saber out. She was, he noticed, all business, in an excellent opening stance. "Ready?"

He made a brief, intense effort to think of something witty to say. "Yeah," he said.

And it was time. Every fight started with passion. The weaponry, the forms, these were all just trappings for the feelings that drove a true Sith.

There is no way I am going to flop over and die in front of this girl.

The terentatek was too fast by half, given its size. Its claws were tough, but Rylon had the strength to put into blunting them. Mitka neatly monopolized the beast's attention; as soon as Rylon had one of its arms down he got to work trying to pierce its stony torso. Somewhere in there was something he could break if he stabbed it hard enough.

"Face," said Mitka.

Now why didn't I think of that? "Got it," grunted Rylon. He looked at the beast's little red eyes – they were still fixed on Mitka – and, reaching out to sense its feelings and movements as if they were extensions of his own, he slid into its anger, took a leap, and forced his saber hilt-deep into its face.

He would've felt more heroic about it if it hadn't responded by snapping fully upright, flinging him back to slam into the Academy wall. He forced the pain under control and pushed himself up, but Mitka was already running away from the fallen monster to meet him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, taking the chance to brush her hair away from her face when she got close.

She stared up in disbelief. "I'm not the one who just got a high-speed introduction to the wall."

"Oh, that. I've had worse." He was definitely going to the infirmary the second he left her company, but she didn't need to know that. "But I can't get you killed on a date. That's just hell to explain to the family."

She huffed a small laugh and suddenly threw herself at him, planting a kiss on his cheek. Oh. Hey. Good sign. He hugged her back and wondered whether the stab of pain in his shoulder actually indicated something was dislocated. "If you're okay," she said, bouncing backward again, "can I tell you something?"

Uh-oh. "Sure."

She handed him his lightsaber. "Your grip was a little shaky toward the end there."

"What?"

"Just like you showed me." She started arranging his hands on the saber hilt, her touch warm and thrilling. "Your left hand was down here. You said the form works better when you bring it up to support."

"Oh. Yeah. I must've forgotten."

"Maybe you should practice more, then. I'll be seeing you at the training dummies."

"Wait," he said, before she could run off. "We should do this again sometime."

Mitka gave him a wide-eyed innocent look. "Dinner? Or mortal combat?"

"I don't know. Which one did you like better?"

"I'll think about it. And I'll get back to you when I see you 'round." And with that, she walked off.

Great! That's good. Is that good? Rylon stared after her. He was out of breath. His ribs ached. His arms were trembling. It didn't matter. He felt good.

Really, no lie, I was struggling to come up with conversational topics and thought "You know what solves problems? Throwing huge monsters into the situation solves problems. This has never led me wrong before." Plus, it's the Sith Academy, where this kind of thing is probably wholly normal!

Thanks to Earthmama for letting me take her Mitka out on the town!

Easily my favorite NPC in this game is that fierce lady Darth Zash. I know she's evil and whatever but I still found her really intriguing and awesome. I even copied her when I made my bounty hunter; now I run around Dromund Kaas freaking out Inquisitors and laughing. I figured Meenah was fairly sympathetic towards her as well. I really didn't want her to go anywhere at the conclusion of the story and therefore I thought of this scenario which lets me keep around an NPC I love as well as lay down some karma on a character I hate!

I stood outside a cell on my ship, staring down at the green-skinned woman lying on the floor.

"What do you want from me?" she spat, pushing herself up on her hands. Her green eyes flashed angrily, and I could sense how powerful she was. Perfect.

"I need you," I said. "Really, this will make you very powerful. You should be more appreciative."

"Lying scum," she said, still trying to pull herself up. She was weak, and she couldn't. I couldn't help but smile. I wasn't the type to take perverse pleasure in suffering, like so many other Sith. But there was one thing I loved, and that was being the arbiter of justice. This woman had it coming.

Master Meyali Cardani slumped down onto her knees, her eyes on the floor. She refused to raise her eyes, and I had to admire her fortitude. I leaned against the doorway, watching the flickering forcefield tint her different shades of blue-green. "Honestly, I'm surprised you're still able to talk to me, now that there's another person in there. You're stronger than I realized."

That got her attention. "What did you do to me?" she whispered.

I waved a hand languidly about. "Funny story. See, I happen to have this...colleague...who likes to skip around to different bodies. She's very good at it by now. A little insane, but we get on. I thought I'd help her out, find her someone who was willing to share." I raised an eyebrow at Meyali. "Oh...were you not wanting to share your body? Sorry about that..."

"You *****!" Meyali yelled, her anger finally fueling her enough to stand up. She beat her hands against the forcefield, and I stepped back.

"That's really not going to help you," I said.

She leaned in close to me, seething. "This is funny to you, is it?"

"Not funny," I said. "It's beautiful. Almost poetic. I'm so glad I remembered you were out there."

Meyali narrowed her eyes at me, breathing heavily, her hands bunched into angry fists. She looked like she was daring me to explain how I knew her.

"See, I was born a slave," I said, examining my fingernails absently. "I was trained as a courtesan in Kaas City - very expensive training, a major investment for my owner. Then he finds out I'm Forse-sensitive, which means he's got to give me up for Sith training! Well, that would waste his investment, wouldn't it?" I glanced over at her; she hadn't moved. I continued. "So, to recoup some losses, off I go to some back-alley brothel on the Hutts' moon. And do you know who I met there? A sweet young girl who had been sold into slavery, whose own mother she couldn't contact to save her. Message after message she tried to send, and never any reply."

Meyali still didn't speak, but I saw her swallow as though she were uncomfortable. She had figured out where this was going.

"It's appalling how you treat your own daughter," I said. "My master betrayed me and I treat her better than that. Went out of my way to help her...well, and to orchestrate a little justice when it came to you." I smiled at Meyali. "See, she insisted I pick someone with a strong Force connection. And me, I just wanted it to be someone who deserved it. Based on what my friend told me, I figured you were a perfect candidate. I mean, you fit her criteria and you certainly fit mine."

"I'll fight this," Meyali said. "I'm stronger than her. I'll fight her every second."

"For awhile. And then you'll get tired, and then you'll both learn to share," I said. "Friendship is a beautiful thing, you know." I had to admit, that was what I personally felt made the plan truly genius. They'd keep one another in check. I wouldn't have to fear my old master any longer, because she and Meyali would be too busy fighting for control over their shared body. I could keep her around, (because against my better judgment I liked her), without having to worry about her. I was proud of my deviousness.

Meyali opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly her eyes shut and her head slumped onto her chest. She shook it a few times, then raised her head again. Slowly, her eyes opened, squinting in the light. She looked wildly disoriented, and wavered on her feet a few times. I watched her reach out to the wall for balance, then see me and smile.

"Apprentice!" she said brightly. She reached a hand up and felt the top of her head. "I missed having hair."

I smiled back. "Nice to see you again, Zash."

hahahahaha at last Meyali gets what is coming to her.