Methic clipped his diving suit on, wishing it weren't so clunky. But he knew it was for protection–he didn't want to be crushed by Manaan's depths. He'd promised Vette a honeymoon, and she'd suggested Makeb–only, as they'd discovered, it wasn't too good a vacation spot.

So, they'd compromised and chosen Manaan. Methic had heard the coral reefs were truly a sight to behold. He grunted as he finished strapping on the suit. Vette looked over at him with a frown.

"I don't like these things," she said. "They feel so stifling."

He nodded. "I know."

He picked up the big dome-helmet and clamped it on. Everything tinted blue and he winced. Vette's head kind of...blended in to the background now.

"Ready to go under?" he asked.

She nodded.

Methic leapt into the water, sinking like a rock. They stayed under for hours, enjoying the lovely view of the reefs, the fish, even other vacationers. After awhile, Methic floated up next to Vette.

"I wonder what the others are doing?" he mused.

* * *

Pierce glared at Kaliyo. Kaliyo glared at Pierce. A grin crossed the Rattattaki's face.

"Go!" she said.

They chugged their Gizer ale like no one's business.

So, yeah, happens as my previous one ends.

@ Leonara - I loved your story, both the humor of having Doc sewing and the clever tie-in to his crew profession. Doc's line "I am a sewer" reminded me (in a very good way) of Rachel Weisz proudly stating "I am a librarian" in The Mummy

@Bright - So much for writer's block Lots of great Wynston stuff though. I really liked his reflections on Jadus (not just because that's how I/my agent reacted as well, though I think my agent got a bit flippant too. Wynston/Ruth was nice and the 'fallout' with Kaliyo was both interesting and fun to read. Continuing on to the next two pieces, I like the feeling I get of Wynston having to juggle the various relationships and almost "lives" he's living, even if he's not a cheating husband or anything like that. As for the last three, I'll echo what others said - a nice look at how others view Wynston and his personal issues. Poor Vector at the end...

Women took energy. Women took you for all you were worth and then spat you out. The only women he could still stand were the ones who had long ago agreed they would be nothing to him: Temple, Keeper. The only ones left whose use for him outweighed their distaste for him.

Oh Wynston...I can taste the bitterness. Like Yoshi said, he's getting beat up pretty bad

@Yoshi - Math ...but math done by a cute little girl I liked your life and death - recognizing and respecting the past, being able to move on and forward in the present and being ready to step forward into the future. You did scare me with Prudii in your other topic though. I also liked your "fix" - I was 'lucky' enough to be spoiled about what I had to do, but otherwise I might have done the same and been very irritated. Lastly, since your post just came in, I would love to see a Kaliyo versus Pierce drinking contest. My money's on Kaliyo.

@Eversteam -

'I know, my faithful puppy, I know.' Audra pats his shoulder and walks a little faster.

@RatchetGuyClanks - I'll echo what someone else said; I liked the diversity of the BH crew even if I'd prefer it without a Houk. At least, a living Houk

@DarthSillyMonkey - Welcome to the topic! Love the perspective-changing and your Mako (especially the name-spelling line)

@Zethrodek - couldn't you have Darmas get bruised anyway? please? As for your second piece, I liked the sense of two (very different) worlds colliding.

@marissalf - Just because Kinka isn't miserable doesn't give you the right to move on to other characters being miserable! I felt really bad for Rissia, and Quinn should consider himself lucky. Very lucky.

@Alaurin - sounds like I know which universe to send my characters to if they ever need a break!

@Striges

In your case it was the “cheap cologne” line I mentioned earlier. How a person ends up not just tolerating, but cherishing those things you really don’t understand about someone else.

I was just teasing But yeah, I think that's one way to know it's real/serious, at least from my experience

Maybe because it made me think of all those tacky Franklin Mint commemorative coins and other junk advertised on late-night TV.

I've seen a joke about people selling 'authentic replicas' before that I want to credit as my inspiration, but for the life of me I can't remember where it was. One of my exes liked to collect sports memorabilia, and I saw the term used there too, always made me laugh.

@ Adwynyth

AHAHAHAHAA! He and Broonie from Thursday Morning Wrath should get together.

That link = there went a good part of my Friday in the office. You make a good point though!

@alaurin

I know some people don't like Risha much, but I always saw her and Bella as two peas in a pod! They are very good for shenanigans, especially when it involves Mallay!

I liked Risha as a friend for my smuggler (who I played as basically a nicer/funnier version of Risha)...in real life I'd probably not like her much since she's cold and a bit manipulative, but it isn't real life so no problem there. I *have* heard she's really controlling, etc. for a male smuggler but I haven't played one.

The suitcase was heavier than it should have been, but I had gone a bit overboard with the soaps. And minibar, but that didn’t count. It wasn’t every day that you got to go to Ithor and stay at the Grand Tropical Paradise Resort, and I sure as hell was going to keep as many mementos as I could. Fortunately, the lobby was nearly empty due to the early hour, so only the concierge – a middle-aged human with more hair than a Wookie – saw me.

He waved me forward, smiling. “How can I help you today, sir?”

I grinned sheepishly. “My wife and I are checking out, room 28.”

He punched some buttons at his terminal to pull up our information. His smile shrank slightly before returning in a more knowing form. “Ah, yes. Major and Captain Martell. We were slightly concerned your stay might not have been up to your expectations.”

What’s this guy’s angle?

“Not sure how you got that impression, we loved the place. Especially the day spa, great for my complexion.” I grinned at him, but it seemed to go over his head.

“Oh, I know.” His pause was so pregnant its water was about to break. “It’s just the staff only saw you leave the room a handful of times, and even then only for a very short while.”

My cheeks went slightly red. “Uh, yeah. We just really enjoyed the room.” I felt some sweat dripping down my neck. "It was great. Really great."

He nodded, unconvinced. "We also had reports of loud noises coming from your room."

The flow of sweat increased into a torrent. "You...uh...you might need to replace the bed frame." We stared awkwardly at each other for a minute. “You can charge it to Aric Jorgan. A-r-i-c.”

I saw Elara making her way towards me, frowning slightly at the lengthy stack of papers in her hand. The concierge matched my gaze and frowned slightly.

“What…what are those papers, sir?”

My flush deepened. “Apparently there’s all sorts of regulations regarding taking hotel bath soap. And damage to the walls. You know how these things are.” He stared blankly at me. “Maybe.”

“Is everything alright, darling?” Elara glanced at both of us. I noticed the concierge had that look on his face that people get when they're about to say something they shouldn't. A look you wear all too often. I considered my options carefully.

“I should go.”

”My lord, I am not entirely sure this is appropriate.” Quinn rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “We all do require a certain amount of relaxation, but Lord Baras expects us on Quesh soon.”

I waved his concerns away, hurling my lightsaber at my prey one more time. I heard a shriek, but had no further satisfaction. Frowning, I called my blade back to me with the Force.

“In addition, if we are to enjoy recreational time, perhaps it would be preferable to spend it somewhere better suited for off-duty activities. Nar Shaddaa, for example. Perhaps even Makeb.” He returned to his neck-rubbing.

“I don’t understand, Malavai. What is wrong with Hutta?” I fixed my yellow eyes on him and enjoyed seeing him quail in response. “Personally, I quite enjoy the ambience.”

“My lord…” his voice trailed off, and I sensed his fear.

I gently cupped his jaw in my hand, making sure not to break it like I had last time. “Do not fear, Malavai, I will take your considerations into account next time.”

He nodded briskly. “If I may?” I released his jaw and nodded in return. “I also am not entirely sure it is appropriate to be hunting sentient creatures at this time.”

I turned, frowning. The Evocii decided, foolishly, to make an attempt at escape. I sensed his intent in the Force before he was even moving, and as my saber flew towards him and decapitated him, I enjoyed every sensation. “I will consider that as well, Malavai.”

With all that was going on, I had not thought a trip to Dromund Kaas would be a welcome break, but I soon realized what it meant for Raina. I managed to secure a private showing at the Imperial Art Gallery and had Kaliyo track down a copy of Martin George’s A History of the Empire, in physical form and signed by the author. I hoped Raina would like it.

She certainly enjoyed the tour – never having gone but always having wanted to, the gallery was the white whale she had been chasing for so long. I could not help but sympathize; as terrible as the Empire was, I could not deny the greatness I saw. Though some of these pieces tend to be more grandiose than great, perhaps.

By the time we had finished, darkness had overtaken the city outside. A natural darkness, for once, though the oppressiveness of the Empire’s hold on the planet was never far. We made our way to the visitor center so Raina could look at the various trinkets and souveiniers the museum sold. I had done some investigating and determined the funds used to purchase the items did not, as it was claimed, go to the museum, but instead funded various Intelligence projects. A sad truth, but one I could not help.

One of the docents walked up to me. “Agent.” He nodded slightly, a gesture I returned. “You had a delivery from a rather unpleasant Rattataki.” I smiled slightly and thanked him for his time as he handed me the giftwrapped package. I handled it carefully, but I trusted Kaliyo; she knew what this meant and she would not let me down.

I crossed the room to where Raina was, carefully taking in and releasing breaths to steady my nerves. Working undercover was no problem, lying to my only friend in Imperial Intelligence was a breeze by comparison, why must this so difficult? I shook my head and placed my hand gently on her shoulder.

“I got you something, Raina. I hoped you might like it.” I handed her the package and felt my heart skip a beat as she began to open it.

As the tattered remains of the wrapping fell away and what lay inside became clear, Raina’s face lit up, her happiness a welcome respite from everything we had been going through. “Thank you! I’ll have to get something for you.” Her voice was as beautiful as she was, and it took all of my training and self-control not to tell her.

She turned slightly so she could rest the book on one of the desks in the visitor center. As she thumbed through it, I noticed her smile growing. It was good to see her set aside her caution once in awhile; the galaxy was a cold enough place to live in even without being constantly afraid of letting any warmth seep in or out.

Seeing Raina happy warmed my heart, though I was careful to guard it. I ventured forth cautiously. “Perhaps one day visit some other world. Perhaps even Csilla. It would be…nice.”

Her smile was as brilliant as a sun. “Yes, I think it would be.”

Wynston stayed in C&C as long as he could bear.

It was well past midnight when he gave up the vigil and returned to his quarters. Here on the Tenebrous he lived simply: a weapons chest, a cabinet nightstand, a shelf alongside, and a couple of drawers of clothes. On the shelf, a few print booklets, a painted Voss tile, a lightless hilt; that, and bottles. The majority of the portable objects in the room were alcoholic in nature.

He turned his attention to the hilt first. It had belonged to a walking lie, an enemy Wynston had opposed in principle and despised in person. It was a symbol of better things that someone had belted on over an insanely destructive quest for personal redemption. It had belonged to a man who couldn't separate his failures from the mission; he'd used for it, he'd killed for it, and he'd died for it.

Wynston would do better than that. He wasn't a great believer in redemption, but he would keep his problems from contaminating the mission. He could do that much.

The Voss tile was a square about the size of a dinner plate, light grey painted with abstract clouds of violet and streaks of orange. Wynston didn't know what it was supposed to mean, if anything; he had bought the piece through an Imperial dealer. The artist, he wasn't in contact with. She had stepped up one day to offer her family status, her marital bond, her future, on about half a minute's notice and not a second's doubt, all for duty. To make his mission possible. Any time he thought there wasn't anyone out there who would really give up every personal concern for duty's sake, he had the reminder there. Some people were that brave.

She wouldn't be too impressed with him now, but it wasn't the point for her to know. It was enough for her to exist.

He took the other things now and gathered them on the floor at the foot of the bed. The bottles from the shelf and cabinet, the ones from the closet, the smaller flasks and collectibles tucked into his clothes drawers. It made for more than a fatal dose when he gathered it all in one place. Much more than one fatal dose.

He sat on the bed and took a deep breath. There it was. His armor against everything. The stuff that had kept him going when everything else, when everyone else had failed him. When he was alone, wounded, betrayed, overwhelmed, this before him was what made the minutes bearable.

He would leave it there. When he left tomorrow he would have someone come…remove it. Stars. That was a lot of credits to burn. And a lot of very, very good…

…trouble. He dragged himself back to the reasons for this purge. Two agents dead from a conversation he could have brought around. Would have if he hadn't been stupid, been reckless. Been out of control. Badly enough for Keeper to rein him in. It was unprofessional. It was deadly, which was why everything was going to have to change.

He was sweating. Bloody hell, that was a decade and a half's trained calm out the airlock. He took one of the bottles from the assembly and took a long pull. Keeper would forgive him this one. He had to drink to sleep, and he had to sleep to face tomorrow.

"Vector." Wynston pulled the Joiner aside the moment he stepped out of his quarters.

"Wynston?" Vector said uncertainly. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, but there was nothing untoward to smell. That was a big part of the reason Wynston was so badly on edge.

"I'm going down to Dromund Kaas," said Wynston. "I'm not sure when I'll be back. I'll need you to watch things here."

"Dromund Kaas? But…"

"Keeper's made some arrangements," he said. "We…agreed I should step down from command on a temporary basis." I was wrong, I know. Please, just go with it. I can't talk through this again.

Vector looked at him for a long quiet moment. Then, calmly, as if all this was exactly as it should be, he nodded. "We wish you luck. While we enjoy the prospect of usurping your power here, we imagine the novelty may wear off quickly."

Wynston grinned shakily. "Not to worry. I'll be back."

Before Wynston could move on Vector reached in and clasped his forearm. "Be well, Wynston. Our thoughts will be with you."

Wynston nodded, a stupid bobbling he was too nervous to stop. "Thanks," he said, and squeezed Vector's arm, and got moving. The next few steps were his to take. Better take them.

I'm going to say that forearm rubbing is used for more than just flirting

I wrote Wynston's collected possessions in an AU story a little ways back and have been working from that known inventory ever since. It's not a lot.

He found her at the big board in HQ's central chamber, just as if she hadn't moved in the months since he'd last been here. She stood tall, polished, and cold, handing down orders in the voice he would know from half a galaxy away. For a moment while he looked at her the morning's agonizing transit time fell away and he forgot to be nervous. Then she caught sight of him and everything started up again. She gave him a curt nod by way of greeting and spun to lead him back to her office.

It was Keeper's office; this Keeper, and the one before her, and the one before him. Wynston had attended any number of mission briefings here. To a Cipher agent it was practically a regular conference room.

"It's good to see you," he said.

"Likewise," she said crisply. She proceeded to her desk. As friendly as ever.

Wynston looked around at the databoards and soundproofed walls, straining to sort through the feelings the place brought out in him. He managed to twitch a smile. "I feel like I'm nineteen years old again," he said, "thinking I'm a big deal because I've just been upgraded from a Minder to a Watcher."

That got a tiny quirk of a smile out of her. "And here I am struggling to get the hotshot alien field agent to listen to me."

"I always listened to you."

Keeper gave him a level look.

"All right, I usually listened to you."

"You got results, which is what mattered." She resumed whatever she was doing on the console. "You don't know how much it means to me that you came."

Did it really? She hadn't sounded that warm over holo. He felt a little better hearing it now. "Worried I was done taking your orders?"

"You were done taking my orders half a year ago. Don't think I didn't notice." She kept on at the console. "Anyway, I've arranged rooms and delivered meals at the old hotel for you. An office has been made available for you here; it may help to keep regular hours. I have a pair of injections here for you to take now and this evening; it'll suppress the worst of the withdrawal, enough to let you function and sleep. You'll be meeting with a specialist tomorrow if you're up for it. Until then you're certainly free to maintain correspondence and review reports here. You will however be monitored when you're out in the city."

Monitored? Before he could get angry over it he remembered the mess he'd made at the last cantina. "Keeper," he said hesitantly, "I've...always prided myself on being low-maintenance. I–"

"You'll get treatment here, Wynston. It's no hardship for us to sponsor it and none of us want to see you fight this alone."

"Vector and Temple. You'll let them manage things? They're fully qualified."

She nodded. "I took the liberty of telling Vector to prepare to command for a few weeks at least."

"Weeks? Keeper, I'm sober, not dead." That was the theory, anyway.

"Recovery may push your resilience to its limits. We'd better prepare to give it all the time it needs."

"You finally decide to show an interest in my body's limits and you choose now."

She half smiled. "I've thrown your body into worse on a number of occasions. The interest isn't new." She raised her eyebrows. "Just the application."

"And you say we were never friends."

Her smile faltered. "I had to get you to come. If I exaggerated, well, it had its intended effect. You have a history of preserving yourself as tool over yourself as anything else; I took advantage. We've done more dramatic things to recover struggling agents." She crossed her arms, almost nervously. "Addiction has happened to some of our best. It isn't pretty."

"I'm not..." In this room Wynston couldn't finish that claim. His recent failures, his broken days, all called him a liar. "I didn't think it was a problem," he said weakly.

"Have you changed your mind?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're here because I forced your hand. That has no bearing on whether you think you need to be here."

"The same could be said of everything I've ever done on your orders. But I did it. You say the word, I follow through. That's how we work, you and I."

"Wynston...just answer me. Are you really willing to go through with this?"

He could walk out the door, right then, down to the Nexus Room, and get back to the comfortably familiar. Go out to where people weren't all criticizing, watching him with unfriendly eyes; spend the rest of the day buzzed and anonymous, answerable to no one more than himself. His life as he knew it was waiting for him. The door was right there.

He looked Keeper in the eye. "Yes."

Wynston doesn't have cuddly friends right now. He does have friends, just not cuddly ones.

Methic looked at himself in the mirror and decided he needed a haircut. His hair was getting ridiculously long, and unruly at that. His beard was as cleanly kempt as always, though. He ran a finger over the tattoo on his right temple, wishing he could remove it. Finally, he sighed and exited the refresher.

Today was his and Vette's anniversary: not their wedding anniversary, though that was coming up, but the anniversary of when they'd met, on Korriban. It was almost humorous when he thought about it; how many men met their wives in slave pens?

He walked out into their hotel bedroom and stopped still, his jaw dropping. Vette was sprawled seductively on their bed, dressed in a skimpy dancer's outfit. She bit her lip, and rolled over, turning her body away from him but giving him a full view of her scantily-clad rear.

"You coming or what?" she asked.

He used the Force to hit the light switch.

Kaliyo threw back another drink. She slammed the glass down on the table, letting the waiter standing beside her pour another round. Pierce had finished his, too, and he slammed his glass down as she brought hers up to her lips. The hot Gizer ale ran down her chin and dripped onto her green body armor. She rubbed it away with her other hand, finished off her glass, and slammed it down again.

"Another!" she said, hardly slurring the word.

Pierce had caught up to her, throwing down his drinks with reckless abandon. Kaliyo grinned. He was a feisty one, and a looker, too. She was about to pull her glass up for another drink when a fist came toward her face. If she hadn't been drunk she'd have caught it before it passed her shoulder. As it was, her hand only grabbed the wrist when it was a centimeter from her nose. She stood and hurled the assailant back into the bar. She whipped out her pistol. Pierce jumped up, knocking over the table and pulling out his own sidearm, and fired at the guy, catching him in the shoulder. Two more assailants leapt into the fray. Kaliyo shot one at point-blank range, and Pierce bashed the other upside the head.

"What. The. Kriff?" Kaliyo exclaimed.

"I don't know," Pierce replied. "Let's get the ones who aren't dead to your safehouse. It's interrogation time."

"You think you can interrogate two men when you're punch drunk?"

Pierce grinned. "No. But your killer droid can."

She nodded, grinning now, too. "Right. Let's go."

Merok entered the Nuruodo war room behind Aristocra Farnan, arms crossed behind his back. Several Chiss looked up, saw them, and stood at attention. Aristocra Farnan led the way up to the holo-table that showed a map of the galaxy. Chiss territory was marked in yellow, Imperial in red, and Republic in blue. Hutt Space was green, and the Dread Masters' holdouts were purple.

"This is ever-updating," Farnan said. "By the way, this is General Mitth'aran'trano."

The general nodded briskly to Merok. Merok saluted him and then leaned forward onto the map.

"So," Farnan said, "the Republic."

Merok sighed grimly, nodding. "The Republic."

This would be difficult. Because though he did support the Republic's ideals and their military structure, he had seen their government, and the bickering senators would not get anything more accomplished than the Dark Council and the Imperial higher-ups had.

"The truth is, sir," he said, "I think it is time for the Ascendancy to withdraw."

"Withdraw?" asked General Tharant.

Merok nodded. "Yes. Withdraw. Or, rather, withdraw our support from both sides. We should observe for some time. When the time comes that the final battle of the war is to be fought, our Ascendancy's support could prove crucial to whichever side we think needs us."

Farnan frowned. "Why should we do this?"

"I can't determine the Empire's motives," Merok said, "and it scares me. I hate the Sith; they should not exist. But at this point I'm not sure the Republic has the courage to do what needs to be done to win the war, no matter how much they appear to be winning at the moment."

"I will take this before the Families," Farnan said. "Anything else?"

Here came the hard part. He nodded. "Yes, there is. Someone...someone has to observe them as we withdraw. It has to be me. So, for the foreseeable future I...must withdraw from the Ascendancy."

Farnan and Tharant jerked back. "What?"

Merok licked his lips. "I'm going to go back to what I was after I took down the Star Cabal. A free agent, an investigator and infiltrator for hire. I'll be based out of my safehouse on Nar Shaddaa. I have enough credits in dummy accounts to fund my group for months while we look for jobs. But I can't contact you. Not until the time comes for the end of the war."

He turned and left the war room. "I'm sorry. Goodbye."

All three of these take place roughly at the same time, directly after my previous two.

Sweeping meadows of swaying turquoise grass moved like waves on the ocean in the cool breeze. Sunlight glinted off the iridescent blades, giving the illusion of swimming fish just beneath the surface. Far in the distance — almost too far to see without aid — a nerf nerd grazed lazily, paying no mind to the intruders in their midst. Taken together, it was a beautiful sight, the kind that could inspire countless travel documentaries and glitzy holopostcards.

“What in the void are we doing on this stinking rock?” Rissia hopped off the speeder and glanced around at the putrid green grass tickling at her elbows before glaring back at Quinn. “This is a shimmering field full of nerf.”

Quinn furrowed his brow, utterly confused at their surroundings. “I-I don’t understand. I followed the directions from the Tom-2X precisely.” He pulled out the small device, reviewing the directions and muttering to himself. “Every turn made, every subtle shift in speed enforcement observed...”

“Well, obviously you missed something. There was supposed to be a town here. Little shops and vendors and the spa.”

Their intended destination, Tridentstone Spa, had been all Rissia talked about for months. With Plan Zero complete and Darth Vengean out of the way, she finally had the opportunity to go. And after much cajoling, she’d been able to convince Quinn that a short vacation was necessary for both of them to continue performing at peak efficiency.

“It’s supposed to be here!” He was exasperated now, just short of stomping the Tom-2X into the ground.

“I should be getting a facial and drinking cucumber water right now,” Rissia lamented.

“Karking piece of junk.”

Rissia looked up at Quinn, almost startled. “Did you just curse?”

“Of course not.”

“You did. You said 'karking.'” Rissia pretended to look affronted, but couldn’t stifle the giggle. “You always told me cursing was unbecoming of anyone who wasn’t gutter trash, and that it made a person sound cheap.”

Quinn’s face reddened. “Yes, well, it can also be reserved for worthless pieces of technology that are clearly both cheap and defective. ”

Rissia grinned. “Say it again.”

Quinn looked around, as if to make sure no one else would hear. Surely the nerf wouldn’t mind. His eyes glinted with mischievous glee. “Karking piece of flarg.”

“Ooh, Quinn, so naughty,” she teased. “What kind of unbecoming activity will you engage in next?”

The captain tossed the Tom-2X behind him and pulled Rissia to his chest, hesitating only a second before crushing his lips to hers. Half a minute later, they disappeared beneath the turquoise grass, all thoughts of the lost spa completely forgotten.

“Mmmm.”

Vector nuzzled Kinka’s neck in an effort to ease her awake. It wasn’t quite morning yet, but he found that if done gently, carefully, he could rouse the agent with little fuss. They had, in truth, had a long night. Once the ship had departed Alderaan and locked onto auto, they began their honeymoon in earnest, not bothering to wait until they reached their hotel on Nar Shaddaa.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Kinka.” His voice was soft, and the breath tickled in Kinka’s ear. Her eyes remained closed, not yet ready to surrender to the day, but she couldn’t keep herself from grinning.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that later, Vector. Just give me thirty more minutes.”

“We didn’t mean...you’re teasing us.”

Kinka giggled, slowly blinking away the last remnants of sleep. “Serves you right for waking me up,” she said, barely stifling a yawn. “What are you doing up so early? We only went to bed — let me rephrase that — we only went to sleep a few hours ago.”

He simply smiled, unwilling to share his secret just yet. “Get dressed, and you’ll find out. We must admit, we’re very excited for you to see this. We think you’ll enjoy it. At least, we hope so.”

Kinka showered and dressed quickly, eager to claim Vector’s surprise. He covered her eyes as they left the ship and boarded a shuttle bound for their destination. After a short flight, the transport doors opened to bathe them in blindingly bright sunlight. A salty breeze swirled the high, leafy trees that lined the main boulevard, and just in view was an expanse of water that stretched as far as one could see. It was a far cry from Nar Shaddaa.

“Vector, where are we? This...this is...”

“Procopia,” he finished. “The capital of the Tapani sector, and one of the most lavish resort planets in the Empire.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck. “Do you like it?”

Kinka was awestruck. She grew up under the perpetual gloom of Dromund Kaas, and even with wealthy parents, she’d never been anyplace more glamorous than Nar Shaddaa. Procopia, simply put, was paradise.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave.”

Bright: Vector is so loyal and such a good friend. I'm glad Wynston has him to help him even if Wynston doesn't want it. I'm glad he's taken a step.

Yoshi: I enjoy reading your SW and IA, especially your IA. Kaliyo and Pierce and also made me laugh.

Lesaberisa: your SW and Quinn piece was great

Alaurin: I agree with Marissalf; more vacations!

“Ooh, Quinn, so naughty,” she teased. “What kind of unbecoming activity will you engage in next?”

 

The captain tossed the Tom-2X behind him and pulled Rissia to his chest, hesitating only a second before crushing his lips to hers. Half a minute later, they disappeared beneath the turquoise grass, all thoughts of the lost spa completely forgotten

I wouldn't say that's unbecoming

Also, Kinka and Vector are so sweet.

Audra hears Corso approach and feels a little unease that hasn't left them since yesterday. The question of a future is a neon sign that hovers above Corso's head and she hopes any discussion can put off until they're light years away this war zone.

'Captain, do you have a moment?'

Audra doesn't glance at Corso as he stands in the cockpits doorway. She sticks her tongue out a little and bites it as she twists a wire and clips it into place. She smiles in satisfaction and releases her tongue. Her eyes scan the colours of wires and her mouth begins an automatic reply.

'For my favourite farm boy? Always.'

Corso walks a little closer and gently touches her lower back as she begins the process of trying to figure out where the other problem in the navcomputer is.

'I'd like it if you took a seat then, Audra.'

'Sure,' Audra reluctantly agrees. Maybe it's the green wire... her eyes stay on the open wound of her ship as she takes a seat in the pilots chair. 'What's up, Riggs my boy?'

'Look, Captain,' Corso begins.

Audra looks at him for the first time and knows that nervous, shy shuffling of his feet and the awkward hand that feels the back of his neck. She knows that stern set of his jaw as he's determined to say or do something. He didn't even frown at 'Riggs my boy'. She knows she needs to pay attention but 'the green wire!' is all her brain can think in response to knowing that this conversation may be long and serious.

'There are things I want to say to you-'

'Like I'm wonderful and have a navcomputer to fix before we can take off tomorrow morning and still pick up those supplies from out of the city in a few hours?' Audra impatiently cuts in. She glances at the small clock to her left and sees she still has fifty minutes. Only fifty minutes.

'I thought you said you have a moment, Captain,' Corso disapprovingly replies.

'Yeah, yeah, sorry,' Audra apologies casually with wave and a shrug. She feels like the holo in her pocket has become the weight of her entire ship. It makes her more on edge that Corso might realise...

'I can always go pick up the supplies if you're short on time, Captain,' Corso offers. She looks into his eyes and sees the strong desire to help her and concern.

'If you did that then I wouldn't be able to give you the surprise, Riggsie,' Audra replies with a smile. Sith spit! Now I have to go get him a bloody present! The holo suddenly feels like it has caught fire and is burning its way into her leg. Is that the best cover you could think of?

'By the way, that reminds me,' Audra begins as her hand digs around in her pocket. Her fingers collide again and again with her holo and she feels her fingers twitch as if poisoned by its touch. She takes Corso's hand in her other one. Eventually, she manages to grab a hold of what she was looking for.

'I want you to have this, Corso,' Audra insists as she presses the Senatorial Medal of Service into Corso's palm.

'But it's yours, Captain!' Corso objects as he raises it to his eyes.

'Corso, do you really believe for a moment that I would be here and breathing if it wasn't for you? I probably would actually be back on Nar Shaddaa conning or smuggling if you weren't always trying to keep me so honest. If you didn't keep bloody believing in me all the time. You deserve it. You're the one all 'rah rah Republic!', not me,' Audra ends with a shrug as if to shake off the sincerity of her words.

Audra isn't a hero. She's lucky and stupid and has nothing to lose. Corso is the best of men and she should have said so in front of all of them.

'Captain, I really can't. They gave it to you!' Corso holds it out to her but she doesn't take it.

'Corso, don't even try and give it back to me. You're the best, Corso,' Audra genuinely compliments. She feels a shiver of embarrassment and continues.

'Now, what were you going to say?' Audra urges. She closes Corso's fingers over the medal and squeezes them. She brushes her lips over his knuckles before letting it go as if to seal it and despite Corso's doubt, he gentle puts it in his pocket.

'We've been through a lot together, Audra, as you said,' Corso begins. He kneels in front of her so he can look into her green eyes on the same level. Just once, he wants them to be completely on the same level with no doubt or secrets. Just once...

'Really? I consider getting shot at every day the equivalent of reading the holonet,' Audra replies with that teasing smile.

'That's because you're one of a kind, Captain,' Corso replies with easy sincerity. His tanned hand takes hers again and his thumb idly massages the back of her hand. His eyes don't leave hers and he feels like if he breaks this contact then he won't have another chance to say what he needs to. Corso wraps her hand in his other one as well as if to keep them warm on a frosty night.

'If it wasn't for you, I would have walked away from most of it.'

'Are you telling me I've been putting my *** on the line for no reason when I could of been with you on the beaches Naboo seeing you just as happy?' Audra jokes. Corso sees the deep disbelief in her eyes even if nothing else in her expression displays it.

'I'm not sure about that, Captain,' Corso replies with a gentle smile. His amusement doesn't melt the sober tenderness in his eyes that hold hers. 'But if you gave me the choice between you and the rest of the galaxy, then I would still be here by your side.'

'You know you wouldn't, Corso,' Audra evenly replies. Her voice struggles to find the right accent as she continues with a shaky smile. 'That's not the life you'd want and if I thought it was, I wouldn't of given you the medal. Helping others and fighting the bad guys is as much as part of you as your low tolerance for alcohol.'

'That may be, Audra,' Corso agrees as he shakes his head. His eyes don't leave hers. 'But I'd still be willing to try.'

'Good,' Audra almost falters over the typical reply. She's taken aback by the earnestness in his cocoa eyes. She's taken aback by how her heart beats so faster in reply and the urge to grin almost takes her over.

'Once I get the navicomputer back up,' Audra briskly says with a flirtatious smile, rising to her feet and coming to herself with the actions, 'I'll set course for Naboo and have Bowdaar take out all our back up alcohol.'

'Woah, Captain,' Corso replies as he grabs her hand and stops her walking out the door. 'Hold on there. I'm not done yet. '

'Apologies, Mr. Riggs,' she teases as she retakes her seat. She rest her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands in the mimicry of a good student who is hanging on every word. 'Continue.'

'You don't make this easy on a man, do you?' Corso chides with a smile. He smoothly kneels in front of her again and gently takes her slender hands from under her chin.

'I love you.'

'That's... nice,' Audra replies slowly. Really? she mocks to herself. You couldn't think of anything better than 'nice'? Talk about losing your touch.

'Nice, Captain?' Corso asks with a small frown. He imagined a lot of replies she could have made. The horrible and the best: the realistic and the unrealistic. In none of them had she replied with 'nice'.

Confusion is quickly settling into a strong ache of rejection. Corso lets go of her hands and she feels like a thermal blanket was just torn of her in the middle of a night on Hoth. His hands don't know where to move now as if they can't remember how they used to be. One finds its way to the familiar spot on the back of his neck and his eyes find a grey nothing to stare at next to her knee.

'Corso,' Audra pleads as she reaches a hand out to his cheek. 'You-'

'Guys,' Guss cuts in from the doorway.

Audra's hand doesn't drop until Corso stands and turns to face their the annoying little shrimp.

'You both need to come see this,' Guss quickly stutters without an apology for interrupting. He leaves again but Audra doesn't hear it over the white noise in her head.

'Corso, I-' Audra begins.

'We should go check it out, Captain. It sounds important,' Corso replies.

He walks away towards the holo room where it can only be assumed Guss went to. The Captain follows with uncertain and uneven footsteps. Corso has never cut her off. He has never walked out on her or had the last word. You've really ****ed it up this time, Audra, she thinks with deepening despair. Why didn't you just say how you feel?

@all: Thank you for the welcome and the kind comments.

You have encouraged me to give this another try

@all: It was a big mistake, to wait this long, so I will try to make this short and do better next time.

I enjoyed reading your stories.

You made me smile, laugh, feel sad and happy and romantic, had me have goose bumps (the nice ones), made me consider inviting my best friend to sort through my shoe collection, had me reread a story in search of a missing night dress (I always suspected Corso to be able to do some kind of magic ), on the whole you made a good week even better. Thank you

I am still trying to catch up on your previous stories, to get the feel of your chars. The index is a great help, thank you kabeone

“See it as a kind of vacation. We all could use a little rest.” Mako had said. Mako, always making the best of things.

Thorns leaned back in his seat and kneaded the bridge of his nose, carefully massaging the acupressure points. His headache was getting worse. It probably would be best if he delayed his work until the effects of his hangover had worn off. On the other hand they needed a new target. The new blaster barrels were worth every last credit he had spent to get them, but there were other expenses to be covered. So he was cross checking the bounty list with astrogation maps, setting off bounties against estimated travel time and cost, which wasn’t his favorite part of the job even without a head that felt way too heavy. The throbbing intensified.

He’d have voted for an immediate landing, had they not already been sitting on a landing pad. He’d check the last entries and then call it a day.

They had hunted down their last quarry on this backwater planet two days ago. After transferring him to the local authorities, they were idling here in the middle of nowhere, and waited for the bounty to be credited to their account. The place didn’t even have a passable cantina. His headache had cost the last of their beer reserves. Taking off, before the bounty was paid, seemed to be a bad idea. You couldn’t trust the authorities to remember your name afterwards, and he didn’t want to waste fuel by flying back again.

He dimly registered voices drifting through from the upper cargo area. Some king of argument seemed to be going on. Groaning, he tried to blank them out, and to concentrate on his maps again. Despite his best efforts the voices kept getting louder.

Just as he was considering if it was worth the trouble, to go over and tell them to shut up, the real ruckus started.

“You’re gonna look good dead.” Skadge’s distinctive voice droned over the rest of the din.

He was already halfway out of his seat, when Mako called for help.

The adrenaline let him forget his headache. He rushed into the cargo area, and his instincts kicked in.

One glance showed him, that his whole crew was assembled.

Skadge held Gault by his throat against the wall, Gault’s feet dangling several inches above the deck. With his right hand he was hammering at Gault’s face. Or he tried to.

Torian, in shorts, obviously on his way to or from the refresher, was clinging to his arm, trying to hold him back.

Gault tried to kick Skadge, but was hindered by Blizz, who was clambering up his legs.

Mako was screaming at them to stop.

Thorns saw the slight movement, as Gault’s left hand reached for a knife hidden in his sleeve.

He drew his right blaster, aimed and fired.

As the new barrels weren’t designed for a low noise level, the shot had its effect in the confined space. Time seemed to stop for a heartbeat.

Then a wheezing sound set in, and steam surged from a piping above the combatants, driving them apart.

“Shut up! All of you!” Thorns roared.

Five pairs of eyes turned with a stunned look in his direction.

“Blast! You made me shoot my ship!” He looked daggers at them.

“Skadge, you leave the ship immediately. Get out there in the forest and kill something! Make it something that is not protected by local law and that’s edible, and by edible I mean still edible after you killed it!”

Grumbling something unintelligible, Skadge shook off Torian’s grip and headed through the door. He could be heard stomping down the stairs, hitting the wall every other step down the way.

Thorns lowered his blaster. “Mako, check if he’s heading for the forest. I’m not sure, he got the part about the law.”

Mako was moving, before Thorns had finished the sentence. “I’m already off. I’ll head over to the mayor while I’m at it, to remind him nicely of our bounty.” She left, mumbling something, about the mood hopefully being better on her return.

“Blizz, you will repair the damage!” Thorns continued.

“Yes, boss, Blizz will repair. Better than new, boss!” the little fellow happily replied in Jawaese, scampering off in search of his toolbox.

With a slight wave of his blaster in Torian’s general direction, Thorns proceeded “You will help Blizz with the repairs.”

“Me?” Torian asked incredulously. “I didn’t do anything! I’ rather go hunting, too.”

“You’d rather not be arguing with me.” Thorns said with another slight wave of his blaster. “Because I’m the one with the only valid argument.”

Torian raised his hands in a mocking gesture of defeat and laughed. “Think I’ll better get dressed then.”

That left only Gault to deal with. Thorns looked at him, then at the blaster in his own hand, thought about it, then shrugged and holstered his weapon.

“I didn’t…”, Gault started, but Thorns cut him off “I don’t want to know. Get down to the medbay!”

Gault raised a probing finger to the left side of his face, wincing at the touch. “Considering my current state, that might be the most preferable destination. You see, I…”

“I said, I don’t want to know!” Thorns growled.

As they made their way downstairs, Blizz was clambering back up again, with his toolbox clattering behind. Thorns grimaced at the noise. His headache had fought its way back through the subsiding adrenaline.

Gault remained silent until they entered the medbay. “Now, if you’ll let me explain…”

Thorns gave him a shove. “Sit down and keep quiet!”

Then he started rummaging in the medical supplies. “There it is - painkiller.” He filled two injectors , applied one to Gault’s arm and the other to his own.

“Now, let me have a look at this face of yours. Ouch! Looks like this might hurt somewhat.” He made a face, and began probing Gault’s skull with his fingers, checking for cracks in the bone.

“Ahhh. Could you please try to do this a bit more gently?”

“Sorry, but you’re not my type.” Thorns replied, concentrating on his work.

“Ha ha. Why aren’t you using the scanner?”

“Isn’t working properly of late. I’d rather rely on the old fashioned methods, until Blizz has it repaired.”

“Ouch. Please, stop poking me, my skull is fine. See, I got horns, at least what’s left of them. They are made for headbutting, and whoever invented this marvelous design endowed me with an appropriate skull. It needs more than a houk to crack it.”

“So, with you being the smart one around, one would think, you’d know better than to try stopping a houk’s fist with your face. But it seems you’re right, nothing’s broken. Now let me fix the rest. Wouldn’t want, to have ladies across the galaxy filing their complaints.”

He worked in silence, cleaning the wound and applying a kolto plaster.

“You know, Gault, you’re free to leave anytime you want to.” He waited for a response.

A surprised look briefly crossed Gault’s face before he could hide it. “So, you want to get rid of me?” he truly seemed a little hurt.

“If that was the case, I wouldn’t give you a choice. You see, you’re part of the team.” He sat down beside Gault. “And so is Skadge. “

They sat a while in silence before Thorns continued, “There’s no need to like him, but you need to respect him at least. You can’t do that, you’re out.”

“You’d really prefer him over me?”

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you! It’s your decision. Are you able to set your personal quarrels aside for the good of the team?

And don’t tell me, you hadn’t everything working out as planned back there. Killing Skadge in self-defense, who would have blamed you.

You’re a criminal mastermind, Gault, you’ve played your games for longer than I’m old. I don’t want to have to do without your special expertise. Your help in finding our targets is invaluable.

But once the fighting starts, it’s usually Skadge who is the first to go in. He’s saved my a** often enough by now. It took a while before I got used to his, uhm, fighting style. But he is keeping collateral damage at a minimum actually, as unlikely as that may seem. This may not matter to you, but you know it does to me.

I’m not one of those hulking mountains of men, so many people tend to underestimate me. They rather take their chances with me. With Skadge around, most of them think twice before they engage in a fight they can prevent. So even if the single fights are somewhat messier, there is less fighting to be done on the whole. Maybe you can see some benefit in that too.”

“So, if I choose to stay, what would prevent him from killing me?” Gault asked.

“I’ll have a nice little chat with him, once he is back. He will be much more open minded about my arguments after the extinction of one or two species of local wildlife. We may even get this settled without broken ribs and loose teeth.”

“I’ll give it a try then.”

Thorns shook his head. “No, you won’t give it a try, you do or you don’t!”

“Ok, ok. I am still in! And to show you, that I’m playing for keeps, I’ll add my last two bottles of Tarul wine to whatever our mutual friend brings back for dinner.”

“That’s an offer I can’t resist. And now get you’re a** over to the workbench and finish those implants you promised I’d get yesterday.”

As Gault left the medbay, Thorns could hear him muttering “…like taking candy from a baby.”

There it is, my confession.

Wasn't that hard.

Thorns is a healer and he actually likes Skadge.

Does anybody know the odds of this?

Oh, and in case anybody is wondering:

Thorns set up an impromptu medbay beneath the stairs.

Later he will even purchase a kolto tank

Merok stepped up to the safehouse door and heard the sound of grunts and fists swinging. He held up a hand and whipped out his blaster. He stepped to the side of the door. Vector and Temple stepped to the other side and Lokin stepped up next to him.

Have we been compromised?

He held up three fingers, counting down. Then he keyed in the code and swung into the room. He stopped when he found Kaliyo and a large man with cornrow hair standing behind a chair, while Scorpio bashed in a prisoner's face. Merok lowered his blaster and frowned.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

He realized that the man was Captain Pierce, Methic's black ops specialist. Merok scowled and shut the door after the rest of his crew came in. He didn't lower his blaster. Kaliyo frowned at him, slightly drunkenly, and stepped forward, staggering a bit.

"This guy and his buddy attacked us," Kaliyo said. "We're finding out who th–shh–sent them."

Merok sighed and jammed a sobriety stim into her neck. She yowled and grabbed her neck. She ran out of the room–probably to puke, he knew. Pierce looked fine–he'd probably already taken one.

"What are you doing here?" Merok asked icily.

"Like Kaliyo said," Pierce responded. "These guys attacked us; we're interrogating them."

"Where's the other prisoner?"

"Upstairs. Kaliyo said it was a bedroom."

Merok nodded. "One of four. This is our safehouse–which means we also live here for the time being. And how do I know I can trust you? How do I know the Empire didn't send you to kill me?"

Pierce raised an eyebrow, and Merok realized he'd said too much. "Why would the Empire want to kill you, Cipher Nine?"

Merok licked his lips. "Never mind. You passed the test." He holstered his blaster. "Come on, let's get the other guy."

Kaliyo came and joined them in the upstairs bedroom a few minutes later, fully sober. She glared daggers at Merok but stepped in silently.

"This is good," Merok said. "It's the first op for our new Private Investigation and Intelligence Service."

"Our what?" Kaliyo asked.

Merok grinned, already thinking about how he'd tender his resignation to SIS. Kaliyo would love this. But he couldn't talk about it in front of Pierce–no Imperial could ever know he'd worked with the Republic.

"I'll explain later," he said. "Let's drill this guy."

This is going to be fun! Merok is my first fully-neutral character at this point in the story.

"Sir, I'm *cough* ...I'm done. You have to get out *cough, cough* before it's too late. May already be too late, but you have to try."

"Dammit Jorgen, I told you already, this is HAVOC Squad, and as long as I'm CO we will NOT LEAVE A MAN BEHIND! You mention it again, and I'll bust you down to KP officer for life, are we clear soldier?!"

Aric Jorgen answered in a weak, but familiar acid tone "Cr-- *cough* crystal, sir."

I softened my demeanor. "Aric, seriously, I'm not leaving you, man. Isn't that how this whole thing started? Tavis and the old crew get left to rot, we have to clean up the fallout. I decided I would never allow that to happen again."

Then I turned and flashed a grin at Jorgen, "besides, I'll be damned if you're the ghost that's gonna haunt me the rest of my life. Not sure I could put up with all that complaining without sticking my head the T-37's exhaust."

Jorgen tried to laugh, but coughed up some blood instead. "You're an a*s, sir", he managed a wry grin, "a good commander, but an a*s." and then he passed out.

"Jorgen? JORGEN!!" I rushed over. My field medicine isn't as good Elara's, but not even she could keep Jorgen from turning much longer. That trickle of blood coming from his eye... not good.

I could hear the chittering, growling, and frantic clawing to get in from the other side of the collapsed wall. It won't be long now. Let's see, my canon was wrecked and we had to leave Jorgen's behind when he got injured. Explosive ordinance isn't acceptable in this small tunnel . All that's left is my sidearm.

My name is Capt. Bro'Kian, and as the commander of HAVOC Squad, my professional assessment of the situation is...

WE'RE F*CKING SCREWED.

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

My jaw dropped. "You can't be serious?" No way she's serious.

"I am absolutely serious" Elara answered. "I've been requested to come to Taris to assist in implementing new Search and Rescue procedures. Since I left, successful extractions are down 27%. If they would follow the regulations once in awhile..."

I slapped my face with my palm. "Elara, I know we're keeping our relationship on the quiet side for now, but I was kind of hoping that when Gen. Garza gave us some time off, well... that you and I could spend some time together. Alone. Somewhere not toxic. You know how much I hate that dar'yaim place."

"We'll get time together, I promise, but I have to do this. So, I'm going and you're coming with me. Also, I believe we discussed using Mando'a in conversations." Elara turned and gave me her patent former Imperial Officer stare.

Uh oh. I may not win this one.

"Fine. Fine! If it means that much to you we'll go, but I'm warning you ahead of time Jorgen isn't going to be happy at all." Playing the ol' "Think About Your Squad" card! Dirty sabbac, I'll admit, but to stay off Taris, I'll play it! HA! I can win this one!

"Then Sgt. Jorgen and Mr. Vic can take a shuttle to wherever they'd like to go when we get there." she said without missing a beat. "You know, I can see right through you, Bro'Kian. You're not nearly as clever as you'd like to believe you are sometimes." she added somewhat smugly.

"I... but... you can't..." Yup, there it is. Defeat snatched from the jaws of victory. I keep forgetting she was Imperial. She used to do this for a living.

Elara crossed the room with a smile, pulled my head down and kissed me. "Now, go get geared up. Oh, and bring some nice clothes too, please. The mess hall is doing a black tie, cocktails/ dancing night while we're there, and I don't want you stepping on my feet in your armor."

"Ok, so tell me again, SIR, why we're crawling through the wreckage of a 300 year old Corvette on our vacation?!"

Maaaan, I told Elara Jorgen would be griping the entire trip. I mean, that wasn't a stretch or anything, but still...

"Look, how do you think I feel? This is the first vacation time I've gotten since being accepted into HAVOC, and I'm spending it working! So cut me some slack, Sgt." Honestly, and I can't believe I'm even thinking this, I'm on Jorgen's side on this one.

Once we landed everything was pretty rushed. We were greeted by the mayor, thanked for coming, and then Elara was whisked away. Then while I'm trying to relax with a drink at the cantina, I get a call on my holo that I needed to scope out this downed ship for activity. It was routine, so I was going to go on my own, but Jorgen insisted on coming with me, kept tossing regs at me that all travel outside of base was to be done with a second, if not more. On top of that, I was so distracted by having my drink interrupted that I left my com at the cantina.

This may be the worst vacation ever....

"Hey Capt. You said this was just a routine look through, right? Probably pirates salvaging old tech?"

"Yeah, shouldn't be anything bad around. Rakghoul presence has been slim in this area since we bombed out the tunnels on our last visit... wait, why?"

"I've got major activity on the other side of this wall. It's all a jumble though, might be scrambled by the ship's hull materials. What do you want to do?"

"Let's check it out. Probably nothing that two well trained, handsome HAVOC soldiers can't handle." I struck a heroic pose.

Jorgen looked up at me with the same look I had given Elara when she first mentioned this stupid vacation. "You're kidding, right? I mean, you have to be. We should call for back up before we do anyt-- Dammit Capt.! where are you going?!"

I walked around to the connecting corridor, un-shouldered my canon, gave the sign for Jorgen to cover me and slowly moved in. Pirates are just what the doctor ordered for blowing off some steam. I can punch them instead of Aric. Hopefully they put up a little fight before we arrest them and I get back to my drink and my com.

As I rounded that corner with canon at the ready, I heard the low growls and chittering sounds that I became so familiar with on my last visit here. Elara's last comment on the ship popped into my head "You're not as clever as you think you are..."

Great, how messed up is it that THAT is the one thing I'd think of before I die.

I turned around ran, yelling at Jorgen "Go, GO, GO!!" He couldn't see it, due to the helmet, but all the blood had drained from my face.

Jorgan got a quizzical look. "What the He--"

"I SAID MOVE, SOLDIER!" We had to get out of here and we needed to go now. We weren't going to get a second chance.

Jorgan's look of panic as he turned and started running told me everything. I was hoping for a bigger head start.

I turned and leveled my canon to the oncoming horde of rakghouls. It was like a tidal wave of slathering, drooling, toothy maws bearing down on me, and for the first time in HAVOC history... the CO almost soiled his armor.

The rakghoul population didn't retreat from this area. They found a better hunting ground! All the pirates they can eat, and the ones that survive become raks themselves, adding to the population. An entire Corvette full of rakghouls... and I walked us right into it.

No time to wallow! I fired off a concussion charge to give me some room and then dropped a mortar volley to get a wide spread of damage.

That should slow them up a bit. I turned and ran... into Jorgen. He was running in from the connecting corridor.

"Sir, we got bogeys coming from the entrance area. A LOT of them! We need a new ex-- DOWN!" Jorgen swung his canon up over my back as I dropped and fired a volley into two raks who dropped out of the ceiling tiles.

"Thanks, Sgt. We have to find a tunnel. There's always a dirt tunnel where these ships have broken in half. Back that way! MOVE!"

We got up and ran. I could hear the raks recovering from my mortar and coming after us.

It was straight out of a bad horror movie. Raks everywhere we turned. Hundreds of them. We would shoot. They would die, only to be replaced by two more. Time got lost in the action of staying alive, corridor to corridor. By the time we found what we were looking for, our armor was scored with claw marks, felt like a swamp, and we were huffing like a Hutt who had to slither more than 10 feet.

"Sir, There's a tunnel up ahead, looks like you were right." Jorgen pointed to it. Hollowed out into the earth was a corridor. It was wide enough to accommodate us, but shorter than I would've liked. I could stand up in it with about 3 feet to spare, but it wasn't optimal for combat purposes.

"Jorgen, have you been able to raise Elara? Or anyone for that matter? We could use some back up, badly."

Jorgen flashed me a scowl "Oh really? You think? Perhaps you should've thought about that when I mentioned it before, SIR!", he snapped.

"Look, shut up and make a call! You can read me the riot act me later when we have time!" I could hear the raks coming. They wouldn't let little things like death and pain stop them.

"Olaris Rec Base, come in, over. HAVOC Squad to Olaris Rec Base, do you copy, over. Olaris Rec Base, this is HAV-ARRRGH!!" A rak dropped out of the ceiling and onto Jorgen.

Crap! No time to aim! I frantically swung the cannon wide and caught the rak upside the skull. It knocked him off Jorgen and back far enough for me to safely blast him on full auto.

"Sunofvaaaaah!" Jorgen screamed. I looked over at a large amount of blood coming from his side. The rak had gotten in between the plates of his chest piece. Jorgen's eyes widened at the realization of what this meant. Rakghoul wounds ended one of two ways. You die and get eaten, or you become one of the eaters.

"Capt...!" Jorgen looked up at me, blood on his hand. He was scared. I was too, but I couldn't let him see it. I turned around and saw the horde coming, then looked back at Jorgen. There was no other choice.

I leveled my cannon at the hoard. Same drill as before. Drop a concussion charge, fire a mortar volley, run like hell. The mortar volley created a wall of debris, which would give us a little more time... but not too much. Should be enough time to stabilize Jorgen though, and that's all that matters.

"Aric... Aric! JORGEN! Snap out of it!" I unlatched his chest plate and pulled a medpad out of my kit, "put this on the wound, it should close it for now. HURRY!" I threw his arm around my neck and headed into the tunnel, praying that there was a way out. That my arrogance wouldn't doom us both.

I could hear the raks pushing through the debris wall. I tried to hurry. Jorgan cringed but didn't groan. He was a pain in the ***, but Aric Jorgan was a damn fine soldier. I wasn't letting him go out like this. We were getting out of here. "Jorgan! Head up, soldier! We gotta keep moving!"

I heard the debris crash and I knew that the raks were through. We needed to hustle.

"You gotta leave me, sir. I'm finished as is. We both know that. Get out while you can, I'm slowing you down." Jorgan's breathing was becoming labored, he was getting worse quickly. He needed to stop moving, but that wasn't an option.

"Sgt., you know full well HAVOC Squad never leaves a man behind. You're getting out of this, we're getting you topside, and we'll get you back to kicking Imperial *** in no time!" Was that too over the top? I need to boost his morale, not win a HolOscar here. Dammit, keep it together Bro'Kian!

Jorgan weakly tried push himself away. "Dammit *cough* Capt., you know how this ends. For once in your life, be serious, *cough, cough* follow protocol, and just *cough* shoot me in the damn head before I turn!"

"Sgt, why don't you quit b*tching for once and listen to me. When we were here last, there was a Doctor who was researching a vaccine, do you remember? Crazy lady who wanted to inject me?" I could hear the rakghouls echoes off the tunnel walls. Hard to tell if they were close though.

"Yeah *cough*, you passed it up so we wouldn't jeopardize catching Needles. So what?" Jorgan was sweating pretty hard. I had to take a chance, grab a few minutes to work on him. I set him down against the tunnel wall. He bit back a yelp.

"So, Sgt. dumba*s, we weren't the only people she was trying that on. The possibility exists that she did come up with a vaccine, and it's up there, waiting for you." I was doing my best to stabilize Jorgan with med-probes, but combat medicine wasn't my forte, "so stow the death rattle talk, and help me carry your *** out!" That should do it for the short term, but we need to find the tunnel out of here, and fast.

I picked up Jorgan and we started moving again. We moved down the tunnel for about two hours, but didn't make much distance. I scouted out a few side tunnels, but always wound up back where we started. That's when they found us again. I saw them in a side tunnel, they smelled us. I was able to fire off a few rounds, but no explosives in the tunnel. I t would more than likely collapse. The noise was bound to bring the rest though.

Jorgan kept getting worse. I was almost full on carrying him at this point. He was fading in and out of consciousness. Ok dammit, now I'm scared. What if I can't get him out? I'll have to shoot him at some point. I just don't think I could deal with that. Can I shoot myself if it comes to that? I just don't kn-- is that light? LIGHT!

"Jorgan, you still with me, man? This is going to get painful, but I just found our way out!" I started double timing it towards the light. Jorgan yelping almost every step. Light meant an entrance! And a way in means a way ou..

You're kidding me. YOU'RE FREAKING KIDDING ME! Oh there was light all right, but it was a miner's light. Used by pirates when they're searching for something underground. The fresh skeleton told me he got caught down here and the raks devoured him. The light still shone bright though, and it illuminated everything... including the tunnel's dead end.

And then I heard it. I'd been so caught up in the hope of escape, I missed the one thing I was supposed to focus on. I turned around and there was a lone, rakghoul. Small. Easily handled. I leveled my cannon once again. The Rak tossed back his head and let out an ear shattering screech and charged. I shot it twice, easily downing it... but the damage was already done

The sounds of rakghouls reverberated through the tunnel. The pack had been alerted, and they were hungry. I set the cannon of full auto and dropped the first few that came around the corner, but those were just the small fry.

Brutal, insane, ravenous, the horde rounded the corner. I've got one choice. Better to die on your feet than as a piece of meat! OOH RAH!

I threw out my last concussion charge. It landed right in front of the hoard and flung them backwards. An expected side effect, it also collapsed the tunnel where it exploded... and since my luck seemed to be holding to form, a large rock shook loose from the ceiling where I was standing and landed on my cannon.

Of course. Of karking course. Ok, now it IS the absolute WORST vacation ever. In the history of bad vacations, mine rates higher than twi'lek kissing Darth Malgus. I'd better tend to Aric...

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

Jorgan's body was starting to contort and he was now bleeding from his ears as well as his eyes.

I... I can't do much more for him. I'm going to have to make a decision soon.

The pounding and scratching on the other side of the collapsed rubble was getting louder. I walked the 20 feet to check on the debris status when a huge claw punched through a space and caught me on the cheek. I shot it with my pistol, and the rak recoiled in pain.

I put my gloved hand to my cheek. Blood. Great. So first you forget your com, and now you remove your helmet in a crisis situation. You're a hell of a soldier, dumba*s. You deserve this.

I walked back over to Jorgan and sat down. Guess we just wait for the inevitable now. They'll break through in an hour give or take. I can shoot Jorgan when the time comes. They have to take me fighting though.

What was that? A tremor? Wait, those are close! oh crap, CAVE IN! I grabbed Jorgan just in time to see the dead end explode inward... and got hit in the head with a large piece of flying debris. Right before I crashed out I heard something...

"CLEAR! Got two for med evac, STAT! Bro'Kian! On your feet soldier! ON YOUR FEET!"

Huh, sounds like my sister, Kiera. At least I got to say goodbye... or did I? I can't see anything...

"Capt! Oh dear gods! You! Bring me the kolto pacs. NOW! Oh no, Bro..."

Now it sounds like Elara. I must be dying. Great vacation honey! Man, I'm going to miss her...

Sh*t! I have to shoot Jorg--*THUD*

Huh? Who's that? I can't focus. Where am I? My mouth tastes weird, like... bronzium. Am I in bed? I think I'm in bed.

"Hello Bro. To think I'd see you again, like this." I felt a hand stroke my hair, and then a poke/pinch in my arm. "I've missed you vod'ika ."

My eyes shot open. Only one person called me that. Can't focus well, but the person stroking my hair... Shira. Shira Vod! You came back! I try to speak, but my voice cracked. Man, I'm parched.

"V-V-Vod! Sh-Shira Vod!" I can feel myself tearing up. For some reason, it feels like I'm 10 again."C-c-come play wit-with me."

"Shhh, vod'ika" She leans over and kisses me on the forehead. "I've left the Rakghoul vaccine with the doctors and given some to you and Aric Jorgan. You'll be fine now. I'm sorry vod'ika, but you can't remember I was here. Just remember I love you, and I'll be watching over you, always." With that she waved her hand over my face. I could feel her slipping away, my mind not even registering she was there.

"No! Shira Vod! Shira.. " So tired... so, so tir..ed...

"HEY! You gonna sleep for another four days or what? *WHAM*" Someone just hit me in the gut, hard! My eyes fly open and I jerk upright in bed, looking for the next attack, but all I hear is laughter as the world comes into focus... and pain, ow, I think I pulled something...

"Kiera, please! He's just getting over the rakghoul virus!!" Elara said sternly. I'm in a hospital room, Aric Jorgan is in the adjacent bed, but still out, and some large female is laughing hyst... oh, should've known. Kiera'Kian.

"About time you woke up lazy a*s. The Commando arm of HAVOC squad is in sorry hands! HAH!" Kiera came over and hugged me with that big bear hug she always has. Was that my back that just cracked?

"Been worried about you, little brother. Elara and I led the extraction team that got you out of that cave. You two were WAY off the approved map. Not like you at all. What happened?"

After a large glass of water, I tell Kiera and Elara everything.

Elara does not look happy "You. You know better than that!" She stalks over to the bed, "you are fully aware of regulation 3467.24 stating that you are never *sniff* never, to leave base *sniff* without a com!"

Uh oh, is...is she crying? "You BASTARD!" And that's when the hitting begins. She pounds away at my chest

"You could've been *sob* killed! Or turned! *cries* and then what? What about me?*sob* What happens to your crew?!*sob* They look up to you, you selfish bastard!" Worn out, she collapses into my chest and winds up crying herself to sleep.

I sat there as Kiera'Kian got a blanket and covered Elara up.

"Y'know, Bro, she stayed up almost 3 days straight monitoring your treatments. She was frantic when she came and got me the day you and Jorgen over there dropped off the grid." Kiera sat back and crossed her arms, "she's a good catch little brother. A bit stiff and uptight, but a good catch."

"How'd you get here Kiera? I haven't heard from you in forever, and when I asked Garza about contacting you, she said that I had more important things to worry about. Where have you been?" I stroked Elara's hair. It had come undone during her tantrum.

"Garza's a b*tch. All she cares about is her agenda. Look, I'm part of HAVOC - Vanguard. No one knows about us, just like no one knows about you. I gave my secret contact info to Elara, so if you need me, she's got it."

Kiera sat up. "I'm on Taris because I'm stationed here currently. Elara found out from a contact on base, and arranged for us to spend some time together for your vacation. Jorgy-boy over there was in on it, and his job was to keep an eye on you, make sure you didn't wander into the wrong areas and spoil the surprise. With HAVOC clearance, it's hard to keep a secret from you."

Kiera stood up and came and sat on my bed's edge, "You've got a good crew Bro, and they love and respect you... well, except for that Tanno Vic guy. He's a piece of osiik, as grampa would say... but, they all got together and sacrificed their vacation because they wanted to do something that would be important to you."

Then Kiera got a fierce look and slapped me hard, "and if you EVER put one of them in danger like that again, you won't have to worry about the Empire, I'll kill you myself. Seriously, what were you thinking?! Aric was a only hours from becoming a rakghoul! You got scratched! You're damn lucky someone was able to create a vaccine a few days ago. You and Aric are the test subjects."

I rubbed my stinging cheek. Kiera never pulled her shots. "You're right, Sis. I put a lot of people in danger. I promise, I won't let my ego get in the way like that again. Trust me, I'll straighten up."

She looked at me for a little while, "You must've been scared something fierce. You really mean it." Kira reached over and hugged me again, "I missed you little brother. I'm glad you're safe"

I used the arm I wasn't stroking Elara with to hug her back, "I missed you too Kiera. Hey, who brought the vaccine? I remember someone coming into my room and injecting me in the arm, but I can't remember who. I was reaaaaly out of it."

"I dunno. They say the Doc who discovered it used a Jedi as a test subject, but she was using so many people, the Doc says she forgot who it was. Hey, you feeling up to dancing with us tonight? I saw Elara's cocktail dress. It's pretty slinky" Kiera nudged me with her elbow.

"You know, I don't see why not? I AM on vacation after all...."

@Bright

We don't see much Anybody/Temple stuff.

I noticed, I guess it makes sense because most of the agent fic will be Agent/Vector and most of the rest Agent/Kaliyo. I liked her...she reminded me a bit of Elara. I wasn't fond of all of her character - she's got a bit of a skewed moral compass vis a vis the Empire/her family, for example.

As for Malicineve...I decided to write her as a "was raised to be a monster, gains some self-awareness..." and have the stories show where she goes. I think the last few have been fairly sympathetic but she's still a Sith and proud of it

@ Marissalf

This is what happens when I have a crappy work week! Must make someone miserable.

I'm glad I'm not one of your characters!

@Striges -

The concierge was so completely clueless.

To be fair, discussing Ayrs' sex life openly would have been awkward for both of them

I appreciated the repetition of Raina Temple’s first name in Mina’s episode. We rarely call people we care about by their last names only.

It's something I try to work in when it makes sense - Ayrs does the same thing in his stories with Elara and - more noticeably - Jorgan (who's Aric in later stories). Because, like you say, unless it's a special circumstance or a nickname/pet name type thing, how you think of/refer to people changes.

@DarthSillyMonkey

@Lesaberisa: Ayers story killed me.

Thanks! Ayrs (and Ayrs/Elara romance plus Ayrs/Jorgan bromance/bickering) pieces are like my comfort food

@ Kabe

Really really enjoying that room

I enjoy coming up with clever (or "clever") joking references to their sex life. I've used a couple of Elara's emotes from in game. Lame, I know, but it amuses me

@ Bright - Yay, more Wynston stories! I really like your Watcher 2/Keeper and Wynston interactions. I've been really enjoying your more in-depth look into Wynston's psyche, especially how he responds when things aren't going well.

@Yoshi - your Agent/Warrior mixes are fun - I do like stories that show various classes interacting. Makes me wish my warrior was more sociable

@ Marissalf - yay for happier Rissia/Quinn *cough* and Kinka/Vector too

@Eversteam -

Audra isn't a hero. She's lucky and stupid and has nothing to lose

@Frauzet - I'm glad to hear you were encouraged enough to write more, it's always great to see more stories, perspectives and faces (both in our stories and authors) Although liking Skadge....eeeesh. Not sure we can be friends any more

@DarthSillyMonkey - I really like your piece - getting into the very real and human side of being a trooper. I think it's why I love the class so much (in addition to the companions, who I also really love...other than Tanno;))

Mako was stretched out on the ground next to Torian, while I made a sweep of the perimeter. "Don't think I'm ungrateful, partner, but you call this a vacation?"

I smirked. "You see Skadge around?"

She looked uncertain about how to take that. "No."

"Then it's a vacation"

Another well-built pair of off-duty soldiers with their shirts off walked by, making no attempt to hide their gawking at Kira and me. I heard her giggle.

"When I said we needed to take a vacation after saving the galaxy, I didn't think you'd take me so literally."

I grinned sneakily. "No Doc harassing us, no Scourge grumpily moping around, no Rusk calculating the odds of Doc's nose hairs being over a centimeter out of place." I winked salaciously at a Zabrak across the way. "Just some of the Republic's finest."

"And no C2-N2," Kira added helpfully.

I shuddered involuntarily. After the incident with Olympia and the chocolate eggs, the droid had been an even bigger suck-up than before. It was grating, and more than a little creepy. A night before we left for our trip to Kuat, I had woken to find his two shiny eyes staring at me, "ensuring my room was appropriately maintained."

"Say, boss?" I sensed something hidden behind Kira's light tone, but I nodded anyway. "Have you heard from your secret admirer again?"

It was surprising how good a mixed drink looked spilled all over her.

@Bright: I am so glad the writers block has passed and I am enjoying Wynston's background stuff. I really love Wynston with Ruth!!! *sigh*

@Yoshi: I loved Prudii's memories of his family and fallen soldiers...nice moment with Elara. Oh, and I love the pieces with Kaliyo and Pierce drinking together!!

@marissalf:

“By the way, I thought you should know. I’ve been sleeping with Pierce,” she said coldly, her voice devoid of feeling. It wasn’t true, not yet, but that hardly mattered. Pierce was the captain’s sore spot, and the easiest way to wound him.

@EverSteam: I like that Corso stands up to Audra. I recall seeing someone comment earlier that he can be easily seen/written as a doormat and I agree. I am glad that your Corso is made of stronger stuff. It is nice to see Audra gradually accepting the idea of loving him.

@RatchetGuyClanks: I am really liking your stories and the BH crew is really a nicely diverse group....the trooper crew is as well and I love it. I must admit, on the BH crew, Gault is my favorite!

@DarthSillyMonkey: Welcome!!!! I am enjoying your stuff as well. Drokk handled the boys with the bully well and the thought of Gault ordering takeout for the crew is a scary one indeed. Also, I enjoyed your trooper story and

"Let's check it out. Probably nothing that two well trained, handsome HAVOC soldiers can't handle." I struck a heroic pose.

@Zethrodek:

"Ew, put your mask on!" Vette shrieked warding her hands in front of her.

@Lesaberisa:

"You...uh...you might need to replace the bed frame." We stared awkwardly at each other for a minute. “You can charge it to Aric Jorgan. A-r-i-c.”

@frauzet: I'm glad to see you decided to write more! I can imagine that the BH crew wouldn't be an easy one to manage. There are a lot of interesting, clashing, personalities and I can totally picture that incident happening! There are some out there that like Skadge, I haven't warmed up to him yet, but nothing wrong with that. Gault is my favorite.

@Yoshi: re: the "Hey Corso, where's Guss" line

This made me LOL. That can't be good.

@Lesaberisa: Your characters are welcome in the Lauren girls' universe anytime!

@Bright:

@alaurin, you make Dantooine sound downright inviting.

@marissalf:

@alaurin, Bella’s and Mallay’s respective crews sound like a lot of fun. I love when you get them all together. More vacation for everybody!

@EverSteam:

Alaurin: I agree with Marissalf; more vacations!

@Stirges:

@ Alaurin: Fun in the sun with the girls. Very relaxing. Except for missing Guss--sure he’s not peeking at everyone from the bottom of the pool?

@Kabeone:

@alaurin haha, I loved the light vacation story with Bella and Mallay. (And now we actually know what Jorgan and Vik's bodies look like! )

Merok had information out of their two prisoners–it was time to move. The assassins had been based in Shadow Town, hired via an anonymous holocall from a public terminal. Merok considered this as he packed up his gear.

"Tothlazhen?" he asked.

Kaliyo shook her head. "No, too gutless, and he's probably a slave since Nem'ro died."

"We could have Fa'athra look into it; he works for us now..."

"How do you know it wasn't Fa'athra who hired these guys?" she shot back. "Hutts don't like being under anyone else's thumb."

Merok nodded. "Point. Any other ideas?"

"No, I think we've killed everyone else we've ever crossed."

"There's the Balmorran resistance..."

"Nah," she replied, "they're too busy setting up their new government."

Merok nodded. "Well, we'll find out soon enough. Get the teams to the speeders and let's go."

Merok finished packing his gear–holo-tracer, listening device, doorstrip-holocam, breach charges, and a variety of other tools. He tossed the case into the back of his speeder and locked it before jumping into the pilot's seat. Raina took her place beside him, with Vector and Lokin in the back seat. Kaliyo drove the other speeder, with Scorpio and Pierce.

They reached Shadow Town shortly and split up. Merok found the holoterminal first. He used a slicer to call back its previous information and downloaded the call from the anonymous employer. Then he traced the call. It was scrambled, very well-done, obviously by someone who knew tech. But he broke it.

"There," he said. "A penthouse in the Club Vertica casino."

"Rented by?" Raina asked.

"Anonymous," Merok said. "Again."

He sent the information to Kaliyo and hopped into his speeder. They met up at the entrance to Club Vertica. They split up, looking casual, staying in constant contact through their ear comms. Merok glanced across the room.

"Pierce," he said, "stop ogling the half-naked waitress and get back to work."

Pierce hissed. "Sorry, m'lady, perhaps another day."

Merok took the turbolift up to the penthouses. He waited outside the appropriate room for the rest of the team to arrive. He put the strip-cam under the door, scanning for trip-mines or other security fields. He shook his head. Pierce pulled a breach charge from his belt and placed it on the door.

"Three, two, one," Pierce said, "go!"

The door blew and Merok spun in, firing. He took down a bodyguard with one shot. The other guard snapped up his sidearm, only to be shot down by Raina. Merok stepped into the room. There was a girl sitting on the bed, dressed in clothes that suggested she was a member of some aristocratic family. She had purple face-paint around her eyes.

"Savara Mindak?" Merok exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"You sent assassins after me?"

She nodded. "You pretended to be interested in me and then you left me to go find my father," she pouted.

Merok rolled his eyes. "Really, Savara?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He blew out a sigh. "Well, we're not official Imperials so we can't arrest you for attacking us. But your attack did involve Captain Pierce, who is a member of the Imperial Army. So you're under arrest for the attempted murder of an officer in the Imperial Army."

She sighed. "Oh, fine. Let's go..."

Pierce had a sneer on his face. "Not much upstairs, eh?"

Merok shook his head with a grin. "Not really, no."

She was the only living person I could really think of who'd want vengeance on Cipher Nine for...anything, and she seemed to me to be the type to be very sensitive about everything.

The injection Keeper offered did take the bite off Wynston's nervousness and seemed to slow the sweating. He settled into the office, started sorting through information that would come in handy when he returned to the Tenebrous. He put in a decent day and submitted his conclusions to Vector and Temple back home. He kept his language professional, impersonal; he couldn't think of anything else to say just then. He worked through a late dinner hour, then packed up and headed out.

He spotted his tail only a few blocks out from the Citadel. A woman in street clothes, more classic than trendy in style, flattering the curves of her figure; thirtysomething from what he could see of her, black hair gathered in a clip, skin of a copper hue rare among humans, broad angular features, one eye an artificial red set in a delicate half-arc of black metal cybernetics, an air of nervousness that said she wasn't experienced in following people.

Something new to think about.

A few cuts and turns on side streets established that she knew her way around the city. She looked flustered after a couple of turns and cutbacks, though. Definitely not experienced with this. What was the angle, then? Was there a second follower, or was there something special about this one?

The fastest way to find out, in his professional opinion, was to lure her into a large store, one that he knew had openings on two streets; if she knew it too she knew she had to follow him in or risk losing him. In less than a minute she appeared inside, pushing up on her toes to scan the crowd. He swung out from behind the nearest rack and laid a hand on her upper arm. "So," he murmured, "this is my Minder?"

She jumped but held her ground. "A Fixer, actually," she said, staring at him with one eye wide and the other steady red. "Fixer Thirty-Four."

"Oh, I like Fixers. They're always so good with their hands. Now, were you ever going to come up and introduce yourself?"

"I wasn't to interfere unless you went in–"

"Someplace that serves interesting things, hmm?" When he started walking she went with him. "Well, you're here now. We may as well find someplace to sit down." He was getting hungry. "Why don't we go on to the Nexus Roo–"

She stopped short. "That's quite impossible."

He let go of her arm but leaned in to keep his voice at a conversational pitch in the crowd. "I'm allowed to eat. I specifically stipulated that when negotiating terms today."

She looked him over then met his eye, looking almost defiant. "Very well," she said. "There's just one thing. I am absolutely forbidden from letting you drink alcohol, which means I would have to drink any that ends up at our table. And…" her expression softened…"I'm almost six years sober. Please understand, it would be really embarrassing if–"

Ah. "Of course," said Wynston, "I understand completely." That was why this was a random technician; they wanted someone with the experience regardless of her other qualifications. "Let's not put that in jeopardy. That said, it's my first night back in town and I'd like to see the changes to the Nexus Room’s food menu." He offered her his arm; she eyed it with raised eyebrows and then started past him. He thought he spied a little tug of a smile, but she was all poise when he caught up to fall in step with her.

His attention was engaged at close range now as they navigated the crowded street. Fixer Thirty-Four was close enough to his height to stay comfortably in step and she did so with a reflexive discipline that suggested she had always been in the service. There was a softness about her wrists and neck that said she wasn't in the business of hard physical work. What was the Kaliyo antidote he had been daydreaming of? Long hair, a body more soft than muscular, a feminine scent?…first things first, man. But she seemed a pleasant contrast to everything that had been tormenting him lately. And, interestingly enough, she seemed to be examining him, too, out of the corner of her eye.

"I recommend something a little less…intense…than the Nexus Room," she said just before they rounded the corner to the landmark cantina. "Somewhere a little lower-key might be…"

"They serve food here, don't they? And I've missed it. Come on."

The restaurant washed over him like a second homecoming: heat, and music, and smells, a thoroughly Kaas regiment of smells. Good food and even more good drink. Good, good…

Maybe this was a mistake.

Momentum and the intense awareness of the woman at his side kept him going. "Two for dinner," he told the greeter droid. He was a little surprised when the Fixer leaned past him to say "Some quiet table, please."

He noticed something as the droid led them in. "'Quiet' happens to coincide with 'out of sight of the bar'."

She nodded, smiling. "It makes things easier for me."

"Clever."

When they reached their table Wynston took one quick step ahead to pull the Fixer's chair out for her. She stopped, eyeing him with one eye dark and disbelieving, one unblinking red. "What are you…?"

"Go on, sit down." He nodded at the chair, which she did after another moment of suspicion decide to sit in. Unexpected chivalry: it was the most enjoyable kind of discomfiture one was generally allowed to tease out of a lady while still being counted a good guy. If she wasn't expecting this dynamic, well, then he scored a point for surprise while the game was just starting

He settled opposite her and immediately found the serving droid back. "I'll have a…." The taste of a good wine hung there in his forced silence. "Water," he said weakly.

"For me as well," said the Fixer, offhandedly waving away the wine menu.

Wynston fiddled with his napkin, forced himself to spread it on his lap. He couldn't be nervous now, for stars' sake, he had someone to talk to, something to concentrate on. "So. They took you off something important to follow me around and ensure I didn't go anyplace where I might…slip up."

"A directive I didn't expect to see broken quite this quickly."

"Directives and I have a complex relationship. If it gets you in trouble we can go back to plan A, which I believe was having safe rations delivered directly to my hands as I walk the one approved safe path from my lodgings to my work."

"It shouldn't be a problem so long as you can vouch for me when we get out."

"Yes. Almost six years, you said."

Her wide thin-lipped mouth curved. "Just a couple of weeks shy."

"And that's why Keeper took you off real work? Because…I…happened to be qualified to show…you…around, this week?"

"Personnel support is real work. I don't think this assignment is any kind of waste."

He studied the tables off beyond her shoulder. "Of course," he said.

"As long as we're talking, if you have any questions about how the process goes, feel free to ask."

"If anything comes to mind, I will." He didn't really want to discuss addiction treatment with her right now. He didn't really want to discuss it with anyone. It was, however, a little comforting that she knew not only why he was here but what he was likely to be facing. Embarrassing, but comforting.

"Well," she said, "if you don't have any questions…"

"Hm?" He wasn't sure what to make of the conspicuous idleness of her expression.

She arched one thick brow. "Among Fixers Cipher Nine is nearly infamous. Were you aware of your status in the SEC-M program?"

Wynston ran that through his head a few times until it made sense. "SEC-M? The mouse droids? I'm a great fan, I didn't realize I had a status."

"You're the harshest customer we've got. You've done more to drive development in house in the last two years…"

"Madam, if you're saying you're involved in mouse droids then I should tell you now you're one of my favorite Intelligence employees in existence. If I put strain on them it's because I rely that heavily on them."

She smiled. "Program manager and head of firmware development. Glad to be of service. And I'll admit I jumped at the chance to meet the maniac who keeps putting my devices in these binds I hear about."

From there there was plenty to talk about. Fixer Thirty-Four warmed up on the topic of the job, picking up not only animation but friendliness. She'd been in Intelligence a few years longer than he had, albeit on much less lethal pursuits; they had a good deal in common and he found that he liked her style. If he had just casually met her he would be inclined to buy her a drink.

That thought kept coming up. He never said it.

She never mentioned it either. She talked, questioned, answered, laughed, and ate dinner, and drank water, and generally did a superb job of imagining that they could have a perfectly charming evening without taking a drop of alcohol. He tried hard to believe her. Lies weren't her stock in trade; she was serious. And she was pleasant enough about it.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked, quite some time later, once dinner had settled. It was the natural next thing to do.

Her smile had developed some time ago and held steady for a while; now it developed a wry edge. "I'm badly out of practice," she said.

"So am I, at this point. We can be out of practice together." He stood and offered a hand. "How bad could it possibly be?"

Her whole manner sang amusement. "That line work for you often?"

"More than you might think. Don't ruin its streak now."

She ignored his proffered hand, but did stand and make for the dance floor. He followed, unsure of exactly what he had signed up for. Well, there was only one way to find out.

And yet, as he stepped onto the dance floor, he felt a throat-blocking burst of self-consciousness. It was ridiculous, no one ever cared what anyone else did there, but he felt on edge. If he were allowed to drink he would go straight for the bar to properly prepare. But he was here, instead, dead sober, and the music was starting, and his partner was looking expectantly at him. He set a hand on her waist, clasped her hand, and moved.

And she moved with him. The inevitable uncertainty when two partners first tested each other's space resolved, it seemed, in the first step. A few more steps and she swung free, just for a second, with a textbook ballroom flourish. This could only be met by cutting a more complicated figure himself, which she followed as gracefully as if it had been her idea to begin with.

On it went from there. The woman could dance, far beyond the mere act of moving on the dance floor. She could have been in a society ballroom – hell, or a competition hall. It took all the assorted scraps of semiformal training he had to do her half justice, and he still couldn't begrudge her the time she spent out of his arms, spinning and swaying with a grace all her own before she returned to him.

The music was a long medley; he resented the slowing that signaled its end. As the last note faded the noise of applause shattered his concentration. He tore his eyes off the Fixer to see a few people at a nearby table looking his way and clapping. A couple of people standing at the edge of the floor were in on it, too. He swallowed hard, lifted his partner back to balance, and sent a courtly little bow in their direction.

The song that came up next was slower, the lights dimming down. Wynston reached for the Fixer's waist and was startled when she turned away. "I need some water," she said breathlessly.

He followed her bobbing, now-tousled clip of hair to the bar. "That was incredible. Where did you learn to dance like that?"

She took two tall glasses from the serving droid and handed him one. She touched her cold glass to her flushed cheek for a second before she sipped from it. "My ex-husband, before the 'ex'," she said at last. "In between Intelligence specialization classes…so, a while ago."

"You're amazing."

"You're pretty good yourself."

"Out of practice," he said, and grinned. "We'll have to do this again if you want to see me at my best."

She smirked and looked him over with that two-tone scan. "Be careful, you're getting my hopes up." Then she straightened up and gestured peremptorily for him to accompany her back to their table. "By the way?" she said as they went. "Dancing at a cantina is possibly the worst pastime you could choose for someone in your…condition."

"Don't think it hasn't occurred to me. Multiple times. Worth it for that run, I'd say."

"Maybe, but if you make a break for the bar I will be forced to stop you."

His glass clattered when he tried to set it down at their table. That, and the continuation of sweat even after he'd left the floor, reminded him of the last stim Keeper had given him to keep symptoms under control. He excused himself to the 'fresher and made the injection there. Then he washed his hands, dabbed some sweat from his forehead and returned to the table. "With that," he said, "I think it's time I got out of your way."

"Ah. I should see you back to wherever you're staying. No drinks on the way."

He clamped down on the little burst of disappointment. Not that he was going to try anything, he reminded himself. "You're a harsh mistress," he said.

She cocked her head. "Cipher, you don't know what kind of mistress I am."

Very interesting. "The question is noted for your file," he drawled, and matched her smirk.

It was raining when they reached the door. She rushed a bubble projector out of her sleeve and extended it over both of them. Sensible woman. He gave her his arm and for once she took it; they proceeded briskly up the road to the hotel Intelligence always kept him in while he was in town.

The Fixer stayed at his side, still talking, while he checked in. He was intensely aware that she didn't move to disengage her arm when he led her into the hallway. "Thank you for a very nice dinner," she said. "To be honest I'd expected I would be stuck eating rations out of pocket following you."

"No, I try to treat my surveillance personnel better than that. We're skulking around one of the greatest cities in the galaxy, we might as well be civilized about it." He looked around at the mostly-empty lobby; he wondered what line wouldn't sound stupid to her. "So…just how closely do you have to track me? We should do this right, before you let me go."

He watched her turn the question over. Had she been expecting this part? He wasn't going to ask; she didn't seem to be having problems and he was willing to run it as casually as she wanted. The dance seemed worth continuing.

"Checking your quarters would be strictly a formality," she said, the shy lilt of her voice playing directly at odds with the dark intensity of her eye. "Obviously–"

"By all means. I'll cooperate fully."

The lift tone sounded. Fixer Thirty-Four laced her fingers in Cipher Nine's, and the pair went on together.

Wynston coiled and sprang upright when he awoke. Inventory, he reflexively struggled: unclothed, slick with sweat, shards of dreams falling away in all directions. Where was…hotel. Kaas City. Home. His heart was racing fit to burst.

"Hm?" came a drowsy voice from beside him. "Oh. Dreams?"

"Some," he said hoarsely. Woman. His minder, the Fixer. Not a danger. Not a danger. Half his brain was still tied up in formless visions.

"That's one thing you won't get around. Rebound REM, your body's making up for all the time it spent with that phase suppressed. It's harmless, just very uncomfortable."

He took a sharp controlled breath in and out, seeking steadiness and not quite making it. "You're well-informed."

She stirred and found his hand with hers. "I heard this stuff from a medical droid while I was locked in an under-air-conditioned medcenter room. If I can make it any more pleasant than that for you…well, that's what I'm here for."

"And here I'd hoped you were in it for the fun."

She purred. "That was a factor, too." With a light tug she guided him back down to her; she kissed him softly, then tucked his head under her chin and pushed her fingers to rest in his hair. He let himself relax into the smoothness of her voice. "Don't worry about waking me up again; it might happen a couple more times. The dreams are intense but they don't mean anything, and it does ease up in a few days. You'll be all right, Cipher Nine." Her thumb slid to caress his cheek. "And I'm not just getting paid to say that."

He lay still, checking over his feelings from head to toe and back, wondering that she should have known not only what was different but how and why. She was here to help. She was kind about it, and that was more than expected. He hoped he had repaid her well enough. If not, he hoped for another chance tomorrow. Assuming he was in any shape to do anything. Stars, he didn’t like feeling this vulnerable…and yet, she was relaxed and gentle, not asking anything of him, nor shoving anything at him. It made him want to offer something freely. "You can call me Wynston," he said.

Her exhalation was soft and happy. "I'm Pacha Gann," she said. "You know, when I'm not being a Cipher-Minding Fixer."

"My Minder," he whispered, smiling crookedly into the darkness. "Pacha."

She nodded. Her heartbeat under his ear was strong and steady. "It gets better from here, Wynston."

He couldn’t resist. "From here?" he murmured, running a hand down her side and over the generous curve of her hip. "I don't believe you."

She laughed huskily. "You'll see. It gets better."

The thought offered him some security as he sank back toward sleep.

For Wynston, "cherchez la femme" isn't a mystery-solving technique, it's a lifestyle imperative. Keeper knows it. And an organization the size of Intelligence can, when it wants to, match up just about any life/career experience if it becomes necessary or desirable to do so.

And sometimes doing something a) normal while b) not being alone has benefits all by itself.

Cadet Arkan Ryder dropped into formation as his squad moved through the forest. His helmet–not a full bucket, like the commandos of Special Forces, just a sun bonnet–rattled as he hit the ground. A grenade exploded next to his left leg, and Arkan rolled to the side, wincing as shrapnel flew by and grazed his gloved hands. He ducked behind a tree, whirled, and fired.

In the years since the Sith Empire's collapse and segregation, many insurrectionists, terrorists, and extremists had popped up, determined to hurt the Republic before they settled down once and for all. The Empire was doing what it could to discourage them, but the Republic was forced to shoulder most of that burden. However, that duty had fallen to the military, because most of Special Forces had disbanded when the Empire had been defeated.

Ryder dodged a blaster bolt, turned, and fired. His bolt caught one of the insurrectionists in the chest and hurled him back. Squad leader Fastus Carr ordered them out. Ryder's firing team was sent left. Ryder moved carefully, his blaster rifle popping, taking down enemies.

An explosion sang out–blowing two members of Ryder's firing team, including Corporal Raith Jagger, away. Ryder winced as he hit the ground. His helmet rattled again, and he stayed down, hearing blaster bolts soar overhead. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"–up, get up!" Sergeant Carr ordered. "We need to move!"

"Blast it, what happened, sir?" he asked.

"Insurrectionists had support," Carr bit out. "Umbaran Shadow Killers. We didn't see them coming in the night. Blast it, we're being decimated!"

There was a strange ringing sound and a foreign explosive detonated next to them. Carr pulled Ryder back behind a fallen log. Ryder turned on his night vision HUD and peeked over. Yes, there were definitely more targets out there than they'd anticipated, ones his helmet's spot lamp hadn't lit up.

"What do we do, sir?" he asked.

"We'll form up with what's left of the squad, try to take 'em out."

"We weren't read for this, kark it!" Ryder shouted. "We'll get slaughtered!"

"Don't swear at me, Cadet!" Carr replied. "I know!"

Ryder sighed, nodded. If they were going out, at least they'd do it taking out some Umbaran freaks. Greed blaster bolts shot over, and Ryder tipped his blaster.

"On three," Carr said. "One, two, thr–ugh!"

He went down, an Umbaran bolt shattering his chest plate. He flew forward, dropping his rifle. Ryder scrambled over and felt his sergeant's neck. No pulse. Blast it all, Ryder was going to die! Two Umbarans stood over him, their rifles pointed down at him. He got ready to go down shooting–

And a blaster bolt sheared through both Umbarans. Boots hit the ground, and shining white armor gleamed in the moonlight. Ryder looked up in surprise. The figure wore a full helmet, faceless and emotionless. Ryder gaped. He was Special Forces.

"Up," the commando said. "We've got to finish this."

"The two of us?"

The commando shook his head. "No, cadet. We're not alone. I'm Major Prudii, by the way."

"With Havoc Squad?" Ryder asked.

Prudii nodded. "Yes. You ready to move?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Go!"

Ryder jumped up, firing. Prudii was out in the middle of it in an instant, blaster bolt firing, and gauntlet blade swinging. Umbarans and insurgents dropped, bleeding and scorched. It was all Ryder could do not to gape at it, and keep firing. Soon enough, the battle was over. Reports from other infantry squads suggested that the rest of Havoc Squad had spread through the forest, eliminating the Umbarans cleanly and efficiently.

"Good work, kid," Prudii said. "You've got promise."

Ryder saluted. "Thank you, sir."

Havoc Squad strikes me as the "Master Chief" type of characters, the legendary figures that everyone knows about but no one ever sees in action.

I also enjoyed the logistical details in the intro. Calculating bounty value vs fuel and travel time. It’s something we don’t see considered often, either in game or in fic. Thorns definitely should get a kolto tank--I’ve always wondered why the BH ship didn't come with one.

The ship seems to have served as prisoner transport, it has got a holding cell, perfect!

If it ain't good for the team, it ain't good. Great outlook on the BH class!

Blizz can tank just as well if you gear him right D: Not to worry Gault, soon you can hire an Ewok and Thorns will wonder why he ever let Skadge lean against that wall.

Thank you, I am well aware of Blizz’ tanking abilities, and so is Thorns, and I would strongly advise against telling them anything implying those abilities were based solely on good equipment

As for Gault, he is getting along with Skadge a little bit too well for Thorns’ linking of late, with all those connections to the underworld, them teaming up can’t be a good sign…

Not sure about the Ewok, she might be the perfect companion for a marauder considering game mechanics, tanking and healing, so I don’t know yet if she will appear in Thorns’ crew or in the crew of my marauder.

Replies

 

Although liking Skadge....eeeesh. Not sure we can be friends any more

I’d like to clarify this, I don’t like Skadge, Thorns likes Skadge

 

Gault is my favorite.

Gault is one of the most interesting companions imho. His moral compass might need a little bit of adjusting to get along with a light side BH, but adjusting the BH’s is the more likely outcome…

But the waiting would definitely be a bummer.

Exactly, especially with this crew and no beer left

I don't envy the guy who has to defend Skadge to the rest of the crew. But hey, that's what being in charge is for.

Yes, you decide, you deal with the consequences.

@YoshiRaphElan: I like both Kaliyo and Pierce, together they are a great team. Enjoying this!

It was all Ryder could do not to gape at it, and keep firing.

@DarthSillyMonkey: I think the language was fully appropriate in this situation, you should perhaps warn claustrophobians though

@ Lesaberisa:

 

I smirked. "You see Skadge around?"

 

She looked uncertain about how to take that. "No."

 

"Then it's a vacation"

@bright_ephemera: I have not caught up on previous stories, but I love Wynston and your Keeper and the way she is handling the situation. It’s good to know, there is someone in charge who seems to know what she is doing.