“Wait…” Roflcopter said thoughtfully.

Jaesa halted her quick steps and turned to face her new master.

“Why didn’t Karr just get a Miralukan? Sensing alignments is a racial trait, everyone knows that.”

Jaesa shrugged and said, “Because Karr is racist?”

“Alright then,” the warrior said off-handedly.

“And what the hell kind of name is Roflcopter?”

“One that is completely valid and not a HoloNet meme.”

“A what?”

“Nothing, head to the ship, please.”

Jaesa obeyed and turned back toward the path that led to the spaceport. At least this boss didn’t seem as gropey as Karr was. And that was a step up. She hoped.

I blame bright for the name suggestion, but it worked out because this game is full of horrible names that have nothing to do with anything...

EDIT: ... Ves came up with the "Karr is a racist" thing...

STOP YELLING AT ME VES

Rixik wandered into the opulent lobby. The floors were Alderaanian granite, polished to a blinding sheen. Slender stone columns supported a pale pink ceiling. The walls, in contrast, were a dark burgundy, coordinating with the hand-knotted rungs and the cushy furniture. In one corner, opposite the floor-to-ceiling windows in the front of the lobby, was a tasteful mountain diorama, complete with trees, taxidermy animals, and a real pond with real fish and a small recirculating stream. There were a handful of other visitors, all scrupulously avoiding eye contact as he took in the scenery.

He sauntered up to the polished burl-maple counter. A bored young clerk in an elaborate uniform gave him the visual once-over as he approached. His gaze shifted briefly to something over Rixik’s shoulder before returning to his face, “Welcome to the Shining Lakes Resort, sir,” he recited, “are you enjoying your visit to Alderaan?”

Rixik rested on one elbow on the counter, “Kark yeah. This is a great planet,” he said.

“I’m glad you—“

Rixik leaned in closer. The clerk took a small step back. “I’m barely off my ship, and this Imperial stooge hands me a shock collar and has me slap it on one of Thul’s cronies. Then I zap the slob a few times while strong-arming his boss,” he began, ticking the events off on his fingers. “Couple hours later, I punch the self-entitled smirk off another blue-blooded idiot. Get back to town, chuck porko vice-baron in a fancy suit out the door.” He grinned, showing sharp teeth, “And I’m getting paid for all of it. Hell, I’d do this poodoo for free. I love this planet.”

The blood drained from the clerk’s face, his pallor visible even with his dark complexion, “I—I’m so pleased to hear you’re enjoying yourself, sir,” he stammered.

“Speaking of which, where are the girls around here? Alderaan’s got nice-looking women, but the cantina’s full of snobby boys,” Rixik inquired. “You rent by the hour?”

The clerk coughed, “Ah, our minimum rental term is one Aderaanian day, with checkout at local noon, sir,” he said, “and our least expensive lodging is 2,500 credits a night.”

“I didn’t ask the price,” Rixik purred.

“Oh, ah, of course, sir, I just—“

“Tell your security creep to back off unless he wants to be eating teeth.”

The clerk’s eyes widened. His glance again went over Rixik’s shoulder, and he gave a slight nod, “Will there be anything else, sir?” he squeaked. Footsteps retreated to a discrete distance.

Rixik didn’t bother to turn and look. He gave the clerk another toothy smile, “Yeah. I want a deluxe room, big bed, with a view of the lake and the mountains. Room service, in-room bar, the works. Three days, maybe a bit beyond.”

The clerk shivered, “That will be—“

“I didn’t ask the price.”

“Of course not, sir,” the clerk pulled at his collar, “I was, um, I was going to say that it will be my pleasure to arrange it for you.”

“You do that. Here’s my business account,” Rixik handed the clerk a datacard, “So, where are the girls?” he asked again.

The clerk tugged at his collar again, “You, ah, you might try the pool or our natural hot spring spa…”

“Fantastic. Here, have a tip,” he said, levering off the polished wood and tossing a pair of hundred-credit chips on the counter, “Mako was all worried for nothing. This is a great planet. I’ll have to come back here on vacation or something.”

The clerk’s face had frozen in an expression of near terror, “I, uh, I hope, sir, that you will remember Shining Lakes Resort when you return,” he said with a gulp, returning to his script.

“I will,” Rixik said with a wink. He turned and headed for the lifts, the frantic tapping of the clerk’s data entry fading in the background. Several other guests turned away at his approach. One pulled a pair of small children behind her, as though afraid he might eat them.

He gave the nervous woman a sly grin. She shuddered and scurried off, dragging the children along like chubby little nerf calves . He snorted a laugh. Indulging himself at a luxury resort on Alderaan was expensive. Going out of his way to make everyone else uncomfortable in the process more than made up for it.

This was a great planet.

Post-Hoth

I was cleaning some of the gear in my kit when Dorne stopped by.

"Sir," she said. "Do you have a moment?"

"Sure," I said, and beckoned her in. "What's on your mind?"

"After what happened yesterday…there's something I have to say."

I set my kit aside and stood up to face her, because it looked serious.

"Serving with you has been a great honor. And you've helped me more than anyone I've ever met." She shifted from foot to foot. "I have to admit that I've grown...fond of you," she said. And, as she was in the habit of doing, she turned those green eyes on me to unload everything, because she's one of the only people I ever knew who never figured out that you're allowed to hold back when you're scared.

I wasn't expecting this, but I had an answer for her right away. "Dorne, what the hell are you thinking?" That was sort of the opposite of what I meant. It was a good question, one that would need answering, but it didn't seem like the way to start, so I followed it up by leaning in as fast as I dared and kissing her.

She kissed me back. Instantly, warmly. Just like she knew this would happen and knew it was supposed to. I wondered whether there was some kind of form she had already filed for it, and dumb though the idea was, it's what had me smiling even as I broke away.

"I've gotten a little fond of you, too," I admitted.

She smiled sweetly, but that was chased away by a faint shadow. "It's more complicated than this, I know. Personnel Code Section Two discourages romantic relationships between personnel, particularly commanding officers."

"I know. And there's reasons for that. It..." I forced myself to step back. "Well, I'm your CO. Biggest red flag imaginable."

"Sir, if you were going to abuse your authority over me in any kind of personal matter, you would have done it by now."

"...fair point. But it's still fifty kinds of bad idea to start."

I really wanted to kiss her right then.

Her brow twitched and tensed. "I understand. If you think…that may be for the best, sir."

The look on her face cut at me. "It's never a good idea," I explained. "It's a world of trouble. Any ethics committee in the service would string you up for it and I can't let that happen. I'm not putting you at risk…every kind of risk…not for anything."

"It's my risk to take, sir. But…I understand the concern for you as well."

"That part's nothing," I blurted. "I've been around enough to know that life's too short to spend it pushing away what good you can find." Which sort of undercut my entire point. Idiot. "Uh. Unless it's right. For us and our people. Because life's too short to spend it diving straight for trouble, too." Idiot.

"Trouble, sir? So far as the professional aspect goes," she said tentatively, "our records suggest we are both experienced at navigating complex situations." She was still staring at my face, just somewhere south of my eyes now. "Personnel Code Section One does encourage personnel to spend time together socially. Correlations between interpersonal compatibility and unit performance are strongly positive, sir."

We were quiet for a minute.

I swallowed. "Just call me Vierce already."

I wasn't expecting her to respond to that by pushing up and kissing me again, but she did. She leaned into me and so I slid my arms around her, because there was nothing else to do.

And that's when I knew. It didn't matter what was right, or what I had planned, nor even what made sense. I was hers.

She bit her lip. Then she bit mine. Every second of it was more than I meant to do. Every second from now until forever wouldn't be enough.

When she let me go I didn't go far. Just forehead to forehead, body to body, close, perfect.

She smiled some more. Her eyes smiled with her. "You're so very serious," she said.

"I take you very seriously," I said stupidly.

"Aren't you even a little bit happy?"

"Yes. Absolutely." I think some tiny stray spark from the fireworks in my head managed to show up as a smile.

She nodded without losing contact. "I think this is the right choice, sir. Vierce."

I'm sure I smiled then. "I do trust your judgment, Elara." Then, gently, before I could do anything stupid(er), I took her shoulders and pushed her away. "We should...we should get back to work."

The call came in on the holo just then, sparing us any further thought. General Garza came up.

"Captain. We have a location fix on the Gauntlet weapon. You're going in."

The ship's clocks chirped midnight.

I have zero idea what I'm doing. I don't even know "what happened yesterday." Consider it a challenge, Bright, connecting the dots…

“I do not understand the human version of mating.” That statement made Miriah glance at the huge wookie sitting across from her in the cantina. Not enough tequila on the planet to make me explain THAT, she thought. She remained silent, hoping the question would fade into the darkness of the Tatooine night. Bow looked around at all the inhabitants of the cantina, which were largely human, and sighed. “On my homeworld, it was a great honor to bear young and grow the clan. The humans I have encountered in my travels have exhibited strange behavior in regards to this. Some wish it, some actively avoid it. Then there is you, Captain.”

OH, stars, no! She raised her glass at a passing service droid and it was promptly refilled. She downed it as a shot and received another before looking at her companion. “I’ll probably regret this, but what about me?”

“You have very strong feelings for our Mantellian friend, almost as strong as those he has for you, yet you do not act upon them. Why do you reject a genetically acceptable male who would grow your clan?” He took another swig of his ale, and looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“Bow, humans have all these things that they learn and see as they mature, that mold their behavior patterns in regard to pretty much everything, including love. Humans mate as they choose, and it often has nothing to do with procreation.” And that’s as far as I’m going with that. Bow, however, just sat, waiting for her to continue. She sighed, finished her drink and requested another. “I don’t know,” she told him. “I…have had things happen to me in the past, that make me wary of attachments to others.” Why, oh why, didn’t I ask Risha to come along for this mission? Why did Corso make sure he wasn’t available?

“When he does not have nightmares, he dreams of you, you know.” The wookie shifted to view the entire cantina, and noticed the men who would have liked to approach the tiny female but were reluctant to cross his huge form to do so. “I have heard you cry at night as well. Why do you not accept that he could be a good mate? He is strong and loyal, a good fighter, and is of the correct age.” Miriah laughed, mostly at herself, and mostly to keep from crumbling in a heap in front of one of her crew.

“It’s not him, at all, Bow. It’s me. I.. can’t have the same feelings he has, can’t be what he wants. I’d only hurt him eventually, and I value having him in our crew too much to do that.”

“So, you would sacrifice a mate to have a crew that works well together? I do not understand.” She shook her head, I don’t know how to make this different. It wouldn’t work, I would break his heart, then I’d never see him or hear that voice again, and that would destroy me. She raised her glass at the service droid again, but the large harry paw Bow extended covered her hand and drew it down.

“Let us go, Captain. The crew will be expecting us soon.” His captain had consumed great quantities of her beverage of choice, and he wanted to get her safely to the spaceport. He growled at an approaching male, who turned quickly and walked away. They made their way to the ship, Miriah weaving only slightly, and he sighed in relief when the airlock door shut firmly and the lock engaged. She is a good person, he thought, but I still do not understand her reasoning. They each went to their quarters, Miriah stopping for water on the way to hers. She saw the subject of their discussion, stretched out on the long sofa in the lounge, sleeping soundly.

“When he does not have nightmares, he dreams of you, you know.” She carried that thought with her to her own bed, where she tossed and turned on the sharp point of it.

Aldrdinar or, as his friends called him, Ald, stared at Malavai Quinn with greater calm than the man deserved. One didn’t go to his Lord every day and proclaim “I was sent here to spy on your activities and report them to your Master” without dying a horrible death at the hands of said Lord. But here he was, prostrating himself in front of his Lord arguing his case. Baras had gone insane, he said. He was truly convinced he was the Voice though there was mounting evidence to the contrary.

“I suppose I always knew Baras would eventually force me to turn on you, but he’s become increasingly unstable. It’s reminiscent of Broysc. Even I’m not so loyal as to betray the Wrath for an increasingly unhinged man, not to mention the sheer amount of proof I have seen that indicates otherwise in the case of Baras,” Quinn reasoned in the placatingly annoying voice of his.

Ald simply continued staring as Quinn babbled and babbled until he had had enough of the man’s voice. His right arm shot out, his hand poised to tear Quinn’s throat out. He grasped Quinn’s pale neck with precision and squeezed. The Captain’s blue eyes widened slightly before his officer’s instinct kicked in. Before Ald had time to process the motion, the Captain had freed his neck, twisted the Sith around, and twisted his arm around his back. As soon as he realized what he was doing, Quinn let go and immediately tried to apologize. Ald was faster with his Force choke. He lifted the increasingly distressed man into the air and delighted at the way his overly shiny boots kicked at the consoles behind him.

“Consider this the end of our relationship, Malavai,” Ald hissed quietly. Then he twisted his fist and snapped Quinn’s neck.

Quinn forced himself awake and sat up bolt straight in the bed.

“Did you have the dream again?” Ald murmured sleepily next to him.

“Yes, my Lord,” he replied quietly.

Ald sat up slowly and stared at Malavai’s profile. The man was pale and sweating slightly, his chest rose and fell in short bursts.

“What happened this time?” Ald asked gently.

“I confessed my true purpose and you…” Malavai paused and swallowed. “You said to consider this the end of our relationship and you snapped my neck.”

“You’re still feeling guilty over your actions on the Transponder Station, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am!” Malavai snapped angrily. Then he sighed and covered his face with his hands. “It was the darkest moment of my career.”

“Nothing compared to your ten years in exile, I’d wager,” Ald said lightly.

Malavai dropped his hands to his lap and fixed his lover with a glare. “I would have preferred being exiled for the rest of my life to that hellhole Balmorra than be forced to do anything like that again. I knew. I knew he wasn’t the Voice. I knew he had no ties to the Emperor, but Baras…”

“I know, Malavai, we’ve been over this before. It’s fine,” Ald said gently.

“It is not fine, my Lord!” Malavai said stiffly. “Can’t you at least pretend to be angry with me over that whole debacle?”

Ald simply chuckled and pulled Malavai’s face to his. He held him there and kissed him until the stiff officer relaxed enough to kiss him back. Ald pulled back and grinned toothily at his Captain. Naturally, his Captain fixed him with a firm frown.

“You still can’t relax after that dream, can you?” Ald asked quietly.

“I have a hard time relaxing, period, my Lord,” Malavai said stiffly.

Ald chuckled softly as he turned and reached into the nightstand. He pulled out a small black box and handed it to his Captain.

“Jewelry, my Lord?” Malavai scoffed. “I highly doubt a trinket will ease my shattered soul.”

“Stop being dramatic and open it,” Ald laughed.

Malavai opened the box and found two rings inside.

“My Lord?” Malavai asked quietly.

Ald plucked a ring from the box and snatched Malavai’s left hand before he could protest. He slipped the ring on his ring finger then motioned for him to do the same. Ald had never seen his Captain shake like this before, but he did eventually get the ring on Ald’s ring finger.

“I think even this trinket can sooth your shattered soul,” Ald said blithely.

Malavai stared at his Lord with a blank face. He was a smart man, he knew what an exchange of rings meant. He wasn’t sure if his Lord was kidding or not. The man joked often, but this was a serious matter, even for him.

“You – you honor me, my Lord,” Malavai said quietly.

“That’s a yes, I take it?” Ald asked lightly.

Malavai tossed the box to the floor and pushed his Lord down to the bed. He balanced on the palms of his hands and grinned down at his Lord.

“I love it when you’re forceful,” Ald purred quietly.

The grin on his Captain’s face turned downright demonic.

Ald is my fifty Marauder. I played through the entire Sith Warrior line with him while drooling over Quinn and wishing there was a same gender romance option. So... I made one! Booya!

Colran was bruised, cramped, tired, agonizingly hungry, fifteen years old without a credit to his name, locked in jail on a strange moon, and elated.

He had enough command of Force techniques to hide well, and that had gotten him as far as Nar Shaddaa. Unfortunately he had always been trained to obtain the necessities of life through money (of which he now had none) or violence (which he didn't want to use). His first effort at stealing a meal had landed him straight in a snug little holding cell. At least nobody had broken anything of his on the way. The cell was great, because there wasn't a Sith in sight, and if he could serve whatever labor or punishment they handed out for theft he could get out after and go on to find the Jedi.

A pair of guards had been shuffling back and forth doing assorted errands; just now one was seated at a table between the rows of holding cells. A second guard came in carrying a dish with a small assortment of somewhat palatable-looking foods. "Here," he said, pushing it through the grate at Colran.

Colran's eyes widened. "Really?" He didn't wait for confirmation before he snatched it well back and started eating.

The guards exchanged looks. "Imperial?" said one.

"No kidding." The other guard examined Colran more closely. "No, better'n that. Look at him. The kid's Sith."

Colran swallowed hard. If they turned him in now... "My business is my own," he said, as steadily as he could. "I have a message to bring to the Jedi. I cannot return to Korriban until I have the reply."

"And I don't get paid enough to stop you," said the first guard. "Turning in a stray is as like to earn me a choking death as a reward anyway."

"Should we get word to the Jedi?" said the second guard.

"Yeah." The first guard eyed Colran's cleared plate. "We can't feed this kid for long."

*

A couple of hours later the guard shift had changed, but it was one of the original guards who escorted in a weird-looking alien, a female in plain green robes sporting fleshy-looking horns on either side of her head and a trio of thick headtails trailing behind and to either side. If Colran's nerve and will weren't already stretched so thin he would have made an effort to avoid staring.

"Hello, my friend," she said in a high flutelike voice. "I'm told you were looking for me. I am Master Zauvien of the Jedi Order."

Colran had only ever seen Jedi as ragged prisoners, at a distance, on the few occasions when one was getting dragged around Korriban for one purpose or another. Up close he couldn't tell much of anything except that she was a strange, strange alien with a quiet calm assurance to her.

"What's your name?" she prompted.

He lifted his chin proudly. "Colran Niral."

"Colran." Zauvien smiled, then turned to the guard. "Can Colran and I talk alone someplace?" The guard nodded and escorted them to a room with a couple of chairs and a couple of bright cold lights. Habit prompted Colran to mentally harden himself; nothing good happened in these rooms. Ever.

"Please, sit," Zauvien said. She was still smiling. Bad start. Colran was pretty sure Jedi weren't supposed to smile. Some of the especially sick Sith did, though. He knew that part for sure.

He sat.

"You look tired. Have they been treating you well?"

Indirect. And smiling. Colran pushed his words through a thick layer of dread. "Yes, master. They've been very kind. Considering I got here for stealing things."

She went on. "You were seeking the Jedi."

"Yes. I...I just came from Korriban. I wanted, if you have a school or something, I can earn my way." To be turned back at this point would kill him. "I want to help. I can work. I can learn. I don't know what you people want, but I–"

"Peace, friend," she said. "You came all the way from Korriban to study with us?"

He would rather be staring at the floor or the wall or anything but her, but every detail of her expression and reactions could be critical. "Yes, master," he told her. He had gotten as far as working out that the world of the Sith wasn't one he wanted to operate in. The possibilities outside that were...well, there was only so long he could daydream before he had to go find out what the rest of the galaxy had come up with.

"That was very brave of you," she said.

"Running away isn't so special. What do I have to do to work for your people?"

"Well," she said, and her smile took on an almost impish quality, "first you ask. And then I take you to the local temple and see about getting approval to teach you myself."

"Would you do that?"

"Someone who has risked so much to learn is welcome with us. Always."

Of course. No smart master would turn down a resource. Well, maybe they could work together until he got his bearings. Maybe he could even manage whatever payment she expected out of it. Only one way to find out. "I'd like that, Master Zauvien."

*

She reached some understanding with the constable and escorted Colran back out to the dingy enclosed alleys of the neighborhood behind the freight spaceport Colran had come in through. "Have you been to Nar Shaddaa before?" Zauvien asked him as they walked.

"No." Truth be told, his life experience was limited to Dromund Kaas and Korriban.

"It's a very complex place. The Jedi can do a lot of good here. Of course, someday if it's appropriate you may go to train in Republic space instead. Tranquillity isn't an easy thing to find out here."

Colran kept his mouth shut. He watched. He listened.

She kept up running commentary about the Jedi and about their surroundings. Her voice was gentle and musical. She kept throwing questions at him and he kept answering in monosyllables. Enough so she couldn't get angry at him for failure to cooperate, not enough to give her anything she could hurt him with.

She stopped outside a building done out in a huge geometric mural. "Here's where the local Jedi live. Before we go in, do you have any questions for me?"

Usually a trap, that prompt. But she had been kind so far, and he was desperately curious by now. "I'm sorry to ask, master, but what are...what is your species?"

She smiled and touched one headtail. "I am Togruta. My people do not live in the Empire."

"I see. I, I didn't mean to be rude."

"No. Do not be afraid to ask questions. If you were trained on Korriban, I think there is a very, very great deal you can stand to learn."

He nodded. To have ready access to answers would be new. New and wonderful. He was starving for something more than the tired repetitive lines of the Sith.

Zauvien gave him a long thoughtful look, then reached out to cup his cheek. It took a profound effort of will for him to keep from flinching. "Don't be afraid," she said, her voice gentle and motherly. Motherly was another word for not having found the catch yet. "You made it. I know you don't trust me now, and you may not trust me for a long time." Mercifully, she let her hand drop. "But you're not among the Sith anymore. You're safe now. And it will be my honor to teach you what you've come so far to learn."

Maybe she meant it.

She led him inside into a warren of hallways, still talking as she went. "I'll see to it there's a bedroom prepped for you. For now I think I'll leave you to get acquainted with the pantry. Eat all you like, I'm going out to resupply tomorrow anyway." She brought him around the corner into a brightly lit kitchen with a huge refrigerator in one corner and a tall well-stocked snack shelf in another.

Master Zauvien presented it all with a sweeping gesture. "Welcome home, Colran."

Niselle smiled widely when she saw her sister on the holo. Nalenne's image came up gleaming in black armor. She hadn't bothered to hide the reason for her call: she didn't wear a helmet. She didn't wear hair, either.

"Lenny, darling!" simpered Niselle.

"Niselle, b*tch!" said Nalenne. "What do you know about the substance that replaced my shampoo and burned all my hair away this morning?"

Niselle leaned over to grab a hairbrush. She came back on camera to start brushing out her long, luxurious burgundy hair, the waves spilling in a dark sunset cascade to her hips. Nalenne had, until recently, had hair just like it. "I know it permanently damages the follicles, sister. That's never growing back."

"How did you get it onto my ship?"

"Your housekeeping droid. It was easy to alter his routines to trustingly introduce a new shampoo brand."

"Nis, you can't even get your own droid to stop painting your quarters. How did you talk mine into this?"

Niselle shrugged. "I got Khem Val to slice it."

Khem Val, off to one side, grinned toothily.

"He's a much better slicer than you might expect," said Niselle.

"Rok'hai sevasshtaia rish nachtoth Yn und Chabosh. Foon rashtan om nom nom," said Khem Val. (ed. note: 'The principles of systems administration do not change. The gaping user authentication flaws of Yn and Chabosh are replicated to this day.')

"So!" Niselle said cheerfully. "Want to know what else I have that you don't?"

"You're going to tell me no matter what I say," sulked Nalenne.

"You are looking at the third student ever to score over one thousand on one of Overseer Yuuk's Force studies tests."

"One thousand? Out of what, a billion?"

"Out of a hundred, idiot. Standing rule: Between when the test gets turned in and when grades get posted, any student you can kill such that a) people know it was you but b) they can't prove anything, has the test score they would have gotten added to yours. I managed a lightning storm so brilliant that the witnesses can only say I walked in, they were blinded, and by the time they recovered a dozen students were dead."

Niselle, still watching Nalenne, started plaiting a thick braid in her long shining hair while she basked in her own superiority.

Nalenne scowled. "I'm so glad that the remedial class Lord Zash sent you in for is going well. Maybe if you kill enough incompetent teenage students you'll pass it this time around."

"Thanks for your support, darling. – Oh, look at the time. I'm due for supper with that pretty boy you were making eyes at the other week – "

"Dating. Actually dating."

"Yes, well. He's mine tonight. I do hear he loves this hair color. Ta-ta, Lenny!"

Nalenne picked up the holo and was overjoyed to find her sister wearing a turban and a ferocious scowl.

"Lenny. How."

"I thought that was a little obvious? You tripped a wire, bucket of viciously caustic permanent hair removal glop comes down and ruins your life like you ruined mine."

"HOW DID YOU GET ON MY SHIP."

"That's my secret, Nis. Oh, also, through a very unfortunate error in the records, your multi-murder on Overseer Yuuk's test netted you a test score of minus nine hundred thirty. Scores are locked in, you would have to kill several dozen students for the final to have even a prayer of passing the class."

"How!?"

"I got Khem to slice it."

Niselle started and glared up at Khem Val.

Khem Val spread his hands. "Yek nesh finahai, rok'hon," he said defensively. (ed. note: 'Your sister was persuasive, little Sith.')

"I praised Tulak Hord for an hour straight last night while you were out shagging my almost-boyfriend. Khem was ready to do anything I asked."

"Yek om nom Tulak Hord," Khem said. ('Your sister understands Tulak Hord.')

"I will kill you," Niselle told Nalenne.

"Nyet," said Khem.

"You're my Dashade! Shut up!"

"Much though I'd love to listen to your complete inability to maintain a single friend, Nis, I'm gonna go now. Work to do, revenge to plan, you know how it is. – Thanks again, Khem. Sith Blade Pride, am I right?"

"Om nom," Khem said toothily.

Nalenne gave a last cheerful wave and hung up.

She stood up, stretched, ran a hand over her smooth skull. Well, there were worse things than baldness. Like being both bald and Niselle. She chortled. Then she activated her lightsaber, admiring the new color crystal she had installed only hours ago. It was a subtle shade of red, officially licensed under Scarlet Nexu merchandise, perfectly true to the comic-book hue, hilariously overpriced, therefore purchased entirely by funds from Niselle's sliced accounts, and on top of all that Nalenne still had enough time before supper to go admire it in action.

Miserable Niselle: check. Prospect of bloody victory: check. A small planet's worth of triple loco cocoa ice cream in the freezer for afterward, also courtesy of the credits sliced from Nis's accounts: check. What more could a girl ask for?