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04.16.2013 , 05:47 PM |
for Wynston in Lodestone, a couple of years after the class line ends. ~600 words. No game spoilers.
Ruth wasn’t in town at the moment, but Vette had called Wynston from Nar Shaddaa, offering lunch if he happened to be in the area.
Wynston didn’t usually allow calls from personal acquaintances like that, but a couple of months back he had given Vette his real frequency. Just in case of emergency. Or to coordinate things with Ruth. For that matter, Pierce had it in case emergency backup was required in the field. And Jaesa had had it for a while because she was Ruth’s closest neighbor – again, the emergency contact was critical, that was all. Anyway, he and Vette were in the same neighborhood, so he went to meet with her for lunch.
Vette was looking well – a new headband, a truly pretty jacket-and-skirt combo. She waved him to her table. “Hey there,” she said. “Been a while.”
“It has been.” He settled opposite her. “I trust things have been well with you?”
“So far, so good. Ruth tells me you’re the guy who fixed things up with the port authority in Hutta a few weeks back.”
Ruth had called with genuine fear in her voice when that little difficulty had snared Vette. “Yes, the fellow in charge owed me a favor or three. It was nothing.”
“Thanks anyway. I know I’m a big deal when I manage to get a share on Secret Agent Man’s time.”
He exaggerated his grin. “Anything you need for as long as I’m in town, sweetheart.”
Vette pulled something small and hard out from her pocket; that was all the description Wynston could process before he had to dodge its whizzing flight. “You are awful,” Vette informed him.
“You really are my very favorite Twi’lek. Honestly, I’d be happy to–”
He laughed. “So apart from the annoyances of customs and me, I hope your day has been going well.”
“It has. I owe you one for the port authority thing.”
“Forget about it. If anything high-stakes comes up again, you can call me directly; I’m not always available but it’s worth a try.”
“I’ll try not to have to.” She kicked back to lean against the pillar behind her chair. “Anyway, I’ve got some connections of my own these days. If you ever need anything that certain captains of free enterprise could help with, give me a call.”
“Thank you,” he said. It was the fastest way to get the awkward offer out of the way. “I’ll try not to overuse it.”
She studied his face. “You really can’t, you know. Don’t know if you noticed that part about your girlfriend yet” – Vette’s sarcasm was screaming – “but you’re with us. So if anything ever comes up that somehow manages to be big enough to force-feed you your own pride…we’ll be there.”
He had heard similar sentiments from other people hundreds of times. Four or five times it might’ve been really sincere. Here, from one of Ruth’s best friends, treating him as if things couldn’t be any other way…
Vette was still watching him. She gave him a lopsided grin. “Wynston...anybody ever tell you you’re kind of a mess?”
That set him back in the familiar channel. “I thought telling me was your job.”
“Oh, it definitely is. I was just wondering if I’m stuck doing it alone.”
“And here I thought you would want me to save myself for you.”
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