Mater Familias - 9.082

[Taataani Meorrrei]

(OOC: This takes place two days after An Offer You Don't Refuse (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=22346))


Carshoulis Prime


If you fell ill within ten sectors of the Carshoulis Cluster, the Aiyashaa Huurreei'yan Memorial Hospital was the place you hoped you could get to. The flagship hospital of the cluster, it represented the fine cutting edge of Cizerack medicine, itself highly regarded across the galaxy, and even begrudgingly respected in the Empire itself. A white and pastel blue spire rising above the Su'rai District, even its design made it distinct from the warmer hues and angular features of the city that bustled around it on every side. While the hospital admitted all comers to some degree, the clientele that dominated it were either the most critically ill, or the most affluent.

In a room on the 620th level, Taataani Meorrrei rested. Since her prompt arrival on an Imperial hospital ship, her care had been seen to and transferred from Imperial medics to a Cizerack team, both understanding the nature of what happened due to ample communication. Concussion, shock, dehydration, hypothermia, frostbite, fever. These were just the symptoms that were observable. The hospital ship also transported a body to the morgue.

The Rrou'fai of House Meorrrei's grief held a holding pattern, its volume muted by antidepressants and sedatives that took hold of her system. Alone in her room, she watched the holos on the viewer that stood in the corner of her room. She changed the channel again, and again. Just going through the motions.

He was gone.

Thinking about it made her tired. She couldn't even properly grieve yet. She closed her eyes to see his face, and sleep usually overtook her if she stayed too long. How long had she slept? How long would she sleep again?

She woke up. This time it was nightfall. The massive cityscape of Carshoulis glowed to the horizon out of her window.

"Taurrifar."

She looked around her room. He'd normally come to check on her. Her eyes focused on a vase of flowers she could have sworn weren't on the table before she fell asleep. Fumbling for her glasses, she read condolances from some Imperial Moff who had done the respectable thing and sent out a standard well wish. Weary crying started all again.

A Rrou'fai was never alone. To command power and respect of a house with a reputation, you fielded a family to reflect that importance. She had other husbands. Many children. Many more extended family and friends, and a network that would make a protocol droid short circuit.

But despite that, she would find moments of loneliness from now on. An absence that was amiss at times that could be trivial, and times that could cut her to the quick. Quick with the right thing to say. Knowing that special way to announce his presence with a tail that slid down her side, that neither surprised nor demanded. That was gone forever. The sum of everything that made him special? Could she count these things?

She watched the holos again. Changing channels. Automatic.

[Ben Merasska]

Carshoulis Prime was a strange place. Ben wasn't very good with women, and a planet full of dominant and entitled women just compounded his nerves. He was actually grateful for it, as worrying about the looks he was getting from Doctor Cat-Lady and Nurse Cat-Lady and the curious looks from the male servant staff was preferable to dwelling on the ordeal he'd just gone through.

The room was warmly painted, but quite bare otherwise. The bed was comfortable, and the water shower had been positively heavenly. The food was good, but Ben was restless.

He stood, and settled his feet on the flooring. He let his feet sit there for a moment, just letting his thoughts drift away, before standing and walking. The staff left him alone for the most part.

"jI thjink jI know wherre jyou arre gojing," one of the nurses said with a smile of understanding. Ben blinked, startled out of his thoughtlessness. The nurse led him further down the hall and knocked slightly on a door.

"Excusse uss," the nurse murmured softly. "But jyou have a vjisjitorr."

Ben waved awkwardly.

"Howdy," he said.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

She took care to sit up properly, drawing the comforter around her middle. For what shabby state she was in, she managed to draw upon poise that was her birthright.

"Captajin Merrassska."

With the nurse within earshot, she would be every bit the woman of authority her station demanded.

"Pleasse come jin."

She looked back to the nurse with a look that showed polite appreciation, but an expectation of privacy that the nurse certainly would understand. She nodded, and closed the door behind her.

She gestured to a chair next to her bedside.

"Come, Captajin. Ssjit wjith me."

She maintained that regality. It was the only defense mechanism she had left.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben shuffled into the room, and pulled up the seat, wondering what to say to the woman now. She looked like she was staving off a crying jag with only a one breath.

"I'm glad to see you're not hurt too bad," he said, finally. "You had a pretty bad case of hypothermia going there."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

She waved off his concern politely with a slight smile and a nod.

"jI'm fjine. Thank jyou."

She looked the human over, and her ears raised somewhat.

"And jyou? Rreleassed frrom carre sso soon? How do jyou feel?"

She felt a bit of shame for feeling relief at his healthy state of being for the wrong reasons. Not so much of concern for him, but over a selfish fear that she couldn't endure another ounce of suffering due to her own actions.

She gestured to the table near him. Well wishes from everywhere. Flowers, holo-cards. Candies. Sajoi. A few other assorted live or fresh delicacies.

"Take ssomethjing wjill jyou? Everrjyone jiss rrelentlesss wjith thejirr well wjishess and jI'm jin dangerr of bejing overrwhelmed."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben grimaced.

"I'm lucky enough to be alive," he said. "The best gift would be a warmer coat in case something like that happens again. But no one sent me anything. I don't have any family left to worry about me, and my friends and I don't really keep in touch that well anymore. Other than that, I suppose I'm no worse off than I was before."

Ben was lying, and attempted to hide the lie under his normal tone of pauses and second thoughts. He had received something; he'd received a notice of termination from his employer. Now he was jobless and without a ship.

It wasn't Meorrrei's fault, though offering a pilot a thousand credits was asking for trouble. Ben knew how things went; he couldn't have collected that money. It wasn't in his stars to get a windfall like that without having to spend more to get it.

"Apparently I will be released soon. I had some low level hypothermia and my fingers were nearly beyond saving from frostbite. But," he wiggled the digits, "they're all here, and not one short."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

She smiled, a bit of fatigue showing on her face.

"A rreljief to hearr. We have the besst hosspjitalss jin the galaxjy, sso jI hearr."

Small talk. Little fluff to occupy them. She pressed home by reaching for a candy box, and pressed it carefully towards his hands.

"Mjy famjiljy'ss comjing. Nearrljy all of them."

She sighed.

"Ssame too forr a grreat manjy of mjy bussjinesss asssocjiatess. jI have the feeljing jI'll be overrsstajyjing mjy welcome qujite qujickljy wjith a crrowd ljike that.

Thejy'll no doubt want to meet the man who ssaved mjy ljife."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben looked down at the floor, wondering when this would end.

"I guess I did," he said, fully prepared to deny any sort of heroism whatsoever, but realizing that the crash should have killed them all. Instead it only got one, and waited to collect.

"I don't need a reward," he said finally, warring with himself as to whether he should accept any gifts or not. Without a job, money was going to be necessary to finding himself some way of sustenance. But as he looked at Meorrrei, he realized this was her first time losing someone, at least in that manner. He felt pity for her. It was long road, and he didn't know if it had an end.

"You did as much rescuing as I did," he continued, remembering vaguely having a concussion and desperately wanting to sleep. Those first hours were ones he was happy never getting back.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

She gave him a pointed look at his deference of a reward.

"Captajin, therre'ss nothjing jimpljicjitljy rrewarrdjing about meetjing mjy famjiljy. Perrhapss a medal forr jyou afterrwarrd."

The Rrou'fai nearly threatened to laugh, her lips parting in a smile as she let her guard down enough to lean back against her pillow. She deferred addressing Ben's own thanks, still not willing to confront it.

"Oh."

She gestured to the table opposite Ben.

"Therre, on the table. Ssomethjing forr jyou. jI've had a ssudden glut of frree tjime, and jI hate wrrjitjing thank-jyou carrdss. That'ss what a prrotocol drrojid jiss forr."

There was a datapad waiting for Ben, with a letter of recommendation for his services. The lauding contained within was extensive, and a letter like that from a woman like her was the kind of thing that opened a lot of doors.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben shrugged, idly thinking that if someone had saved a member of his family, even the most hated one, he'd never be able to do enough to thank them. Being alone got old quickly, and while he probably would kill his grandmother if he spent too much time with her, simply knowing there was someone else out there would have been worth more than anything.

People were caricatures until you met their family. Then you got the biggest part of the picture that makes up a person.

"Thanks," he said, picking up the datapad. Maybe he could use it to get his job back. He doubted it.

"Do you know when you're getting out?" he asked finally, avoiding the rancor in the room with the elegance of a person who'd made it a point to do so for the better part of a decade.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

She shrugged.

"jI could opt forr home carre to take carre of whateverr elsse rremajinss."

Taataani's smile wavered.

"Honesstljy? jI've been sstajyjing herre asss long asss jI can. Avojidjing everrjyone. Rressponssjible, no?"

She wanted to cry. The antidepressants just made her compartmentalize that feeling. Strange to be that distantly aware of a thing and yet outside of it.

"Guesss jI can't keep dojing that forreverr, can jI?"

The Rrou'fai's half smile appeared. She drew her covers up a little closer around her, and reached for the bedside to retrieve a glass of water. Taking a few eager gulps, she set it aside.

"How about brreakjing me out, then? Let'ss be done wjith jit."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben didn't have much of a chance to object, as futile as he knew it was. Meorrrei was quite as indomitable as a weather system, and as capricious too, come to think of it.

She was already getting her things and Ben snuck a candy from one of her baskets while she had her back turned. He'd turn down an entire basket, but one single candy was more than welcome, especially since he'd been eating ration bars and freeze-dried and vacuum-packed food-stuffs that were more expensive but also had some taste and substance to them for the months preceding his fateful job with Meorrrei.

"Okay," Ben said around his candy, before realizing that he was supposed to have tried to keep his taking of the confection a secret. "But I need some clothes first."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Oh, details. They would need trifling things like clothes, even on a civilized planet like Carshoulis Prime. What belongings they had were fouled or destroyed by their ordeal in the crash. So their escape was deferred, then.

She paused, frowning, and then remembered an ace up her sleeve. Of course, the chance that he was in a position to help was questionable, but Kallum Romanoch had proven himself a useful arbiter of requests-by-other-means.

She keyed in his frequency and tapped the voxcomm on the bedside.

"Kallum."

[Kallum Romanoch]

The ping of his commband was lost to the unholy din of the Sarra'shee Market. It was an expansive narrow strip that stretched like a scar of blossoming crimson beneath one of the many mighty cityscapes of Carshoulis Prime. Kallum wove casually amongst the bustling tourists, flanked by a marathon of elaborate market stalls, overburdened with violently exotic decor. Richly embroidered drapes streamed overhead to fend off the baking heat and chains of unlit lanterns drooped low in anticipation of the evening's trade. Here, it never ended, an unbroken cycle of backstreet commerce that spanned the course of decades. The traders, mostly half-breeds, worked the shops in shifts. Behind the impenetrable ranks of market stalls, husbands busied themselves with the endless snaking convoy of deliveries to feed fat the unsleeping business beast. And it showed, the air was thick with the funk of bare-chested manservants, which mingled with an overwhelming palette of smells. Sweet clouds circled a harem of haggard females who sat on rugs sucking yards of aromatic stims, a string of pungent fish heads hung gaping at the shuffling crowd, and from the live stock pens came the eye-watering stench of dung piles simmering in the afternoon heat. A visit to the Sarra'shee Market was an experience which took the senses and brutalised them to a bloody pulp.

It was also the perfect place to accomodate all manners of unsavoury dealings, which was exactly why Kallum and his contact had arranged to meet there. The exchange went down without incident, a datachit in a handshake, a bulky duffel of money, and they went their seperate ways. Business done, Kallum was now reduced to an ignoble fate, that which was despised by every man in the galaxy: gift shopping. Gift shopping for the woman who has everything. Had everything. He saw the half-breeds watching him, scrutinising his every move as he rifled through boxes of gaudy trinkets, inspected handwoven baskets, and winced at the cascades of shimmering jewellery. Still, he thought, better to be considered a thief down here than game up there. Then, as he held aloft a cage of frantic scurrying sajoi, he noticed the commband on his wrist flashing. It was the call he'd been dreading. There was a tent nearby, belonging to one of the few full-blooded Cizeracks in the market, a mystic nutjob that had been long since cast out from her prestigious family. He barelled inside, and discovered the strange mystic occupied with a client, straddling her client, a puffy-faced Zabrack with scuffed knees. Mouths dropped, but their objections became impotent whimpers when greeted with a blaster.

Kallum thumbed the commband, and swallowed hard, "Mam?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

His voice, as offensive as the accent was to her ears, was soothing familiarity to her, and Taataani exhaled in relief to hear it.

"Wherre arre jyou?"

It wasn't accusatory. There was the barest hint of a plea in her voice. He wasn't by any means a majordomo, but he knew how to get things done when she wanted discretion, and that was right now.

[Kallum Romanoch]

"Sarashy Market," he answered, immediately.

The sounds of the raucous marketplace were muted on the other side of the tent flap, had he been outside he probably wouldn't have needed to answer that question. He remained frozen in the gloom, hovering intently over the suspended commband, waiting. The note of need in the matron's voice did not go unnoticed.

"Are you-," he hesitated, glancing at the naked couple huddled amongst a mountain of pillows, "Wha' can I do fer yeh?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"jI need clothess, Kallum. Afterr the crrassh, well, we've got nothjing fjit forr publjic."

She kept her tone matter-of-fact. She didn't want to dwell on the unpleasant over a comm line.

"Ssomethjng forr me, and ssomethjing forr a man, err, perrhapss a ljittle larrgerr than jyou."

Taataani looked at Ben, doing the mental calculus to break down his measurements in a way that a man like Kallum would understand.

"jI ssent jyou the coorrdjinatess, no?"

Unspoken was can you pick me up, please? She didn't want to bring herself to ask.

[Kallum Romanoch]

"I'll be dere soon," he said, simply.

The commlink was terminated with a click and he departed the amorous aliens without a second glance, holstering his blaster. Outside the tent, he was greeted by the thick putrid heat of the market and took solace in the fact that he was at least in the right place to carry out the matron's request. It was something of a tragedy that his daunting quest to secure the right gift had devolved into a soul-crushing clothes-shopping spree. He knew what Taataani liked, and was acquainted well enough with her measurements, but her mystery companion would just have to settle with whatever rags first came to hand. So he set off and faced the endless stretch of decadent stalls, armed only with a MeorrreiCorp credichit and the grim determination of a man holding fast to the belief that there was indeed light at the end of the tunnel.

Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes to find the right dress; elegant enough for a discerning socialite, and understated enough to fall within the boundaries of hospital decorum, in the end, he looked for the one with the most straps and clasps and incomprehensible folds as humanly possible. It was blue, midnight blue he was informed. Not too bright, she didn't want to appear unmoved by her ordeal, and not black, because she didn't want to appear overcome by it. It took another ten minutes to haggle a chunk off the price. That part was important. Sifting through a pile of silken shirts, Kallum retrieved the one that was the least queer of a bad bunch, it was black and embroidered with swirls of gold, and located a pair of cream-coloured three quarter-lengths and some sandles to go with them. Whoever this guy was, he thought grimly, he was about to look like the most obvious tourist in the cluster.

After a quick stop on the way to the hospital, Kallum changed out of his own street urchin duds and into a snappy business suit. He begrudged it in the heat, but figured the old bird could do with some stability right now, even if it was purely cosmetic. When he arrived, he was ushered promptly to the matron's room at the mere mention of her name, and appeared armed with loaded shopping bags and a cage of sajoi.

"Sorry teh keep yeh waitin', mam," he said, ambling in cautiously, "Yeh- y'alright?"

[Ben Merasska]

Ben promptly ignored most of what Meorrrei and her contact, a younger human guy, by the looks and sounds of him, said, and turned on the holoterminal, switching over to what seemed like a soap opera; at least, there was a lot of fake crying and awkward silences.

Maybe his life was a soap opera?

He idly changed the station, and saw a smashball player trip up and faceplant into the wall of the arena.

He changed the station.

An Imperial official was making a statement.

He changed the station.

He lost track of what he was watching, the motions became repetitive, a routine, whiling away the time until at last the young man appeared at the door, with a polite question for his former passenger.

Ben leaned back in his seat, unsure of whether he should speak or not.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"Yeh- y'alright?"

The Matriarch considered her majordomo's question, a brief distant expression crossing her features before she remembered to smile, showing the right amount of appreciation for his timeliness and hard work.

"Thank jyou Kallum, jI..."

She caught words before they were spoken, her mind still running in the mud the antidepressants kept her slogged in. Something in the way he carried himself, maybe the smartness of his outfit, well...

...Taurrifar had put that ensemble together, and despite every bit of his Nar Shaddaan upbringing attempting to keep him from looking the part, Kallum wore it with handsome precision.

Taataani wrapped her arms around him, holding Kallum close to her in a hug that wasn't forceful, it was just a closeness. She took in a slow breath, catching the exotic spice in his soap, and the fragrance he wore that had the slightest bit of pithy sharpness of Prai'yaa limes. So familiar.

She rested her head against his chest for a few moments, knowing that she had to end it for decorum's sake. She pulled away, blinking away her foggy wistfulness as she gestured to Ben.

"Thjiss Captajin Ben Merrasska. He ssaved mjy ljife."

[Kallum Romanoch]

It was a strange embrace, as far as the old bird was concerned, it was soft, and tender, and spoke of unutterable need. In his arms she seemed so suddenly small. Clinging to her flimsy gown was the bland whiff of hospital sterilty, it was uncharacteristic of the proud matriarch but not unexpected, unlike the stoic resolve with which she carried herself. Under the circumstances, however, it was too much. The silence was unnerving. Kallum felt a hot swell of anger stir within him, and for the briefest moment, he held her tight. When she broke away, he became acutely aware of the discomfort in meeting her glossy gaze. Instead his eyes sought out the stranger across the room, and mercifully, introductions were made. He closed the gap between them and outstretched a hand.

"Pleasure teh meet yeh, Cap'n. Kallum Romanoch," he said, and tossed Taataani a glance, inwardly wrestling the delicacy of the matter, then, a wry grin, "Milady's personal lackey an' whipp'n' boy. I 'ave deh welts teh prove i', too."

[Ben Merasska]

"Pilot," Ben answered out of habit. "Even when I flew the ship, it wasn't mine. And now I don't even have that... that is, until I get a new assignment, I don't even have someone else's ship to fly."

Ben had nearly given away his joblessness, but he'd felt he'd covered it up pretty well in his own natural nervousness and anxiety. At least, he hoped so. He smiled awkwardly at the 'whipping boy' comment, and said nothing. Well, he did say something:

"Uh, yeah." Awkward chuckle/laugh. "Um, do you have some clothes for me to wear? I might send the wrong message walking through this place with just this (gesture to his hospital gown) on, ya know?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Amused at Ben's commentary, she looked at Kallum and made a face.

"Kallum, jI can't abjide the thought of Ben not bejing a captajin. Orrderr hjim a sshjip."

She shrugged, not really in her element, despite being baroness executor to one of the largest producers of starship components in the galaxy.

"Ssomethjing fasst. Nothjing Correlljian."

She looked to Ben, again with a clueless look on her face. What flavor suits your fancy was implied.

[Kallum Romanoch]

Distracted from Ben's request, Kallum fished from his pockets a datapad and a holo-projector the size of a credit chit. The projector was positioned on a table next to Ben, it sprang to life when the datapad was given a tap, and started to cycle through the extensive catalogue of Koensayr-Meorrrei starships. Kallum sighed.

"Really is a shame, y'know, some o' does Corellian ships... ne'mind."

Silenced by the matron's weathering glance, he handed a somewhat stunned Ben the datapad to browse at his own leisure and retrieved shopping bags from the doorway. He shuffled to a stop next to Taataani, who appeared to be taking some pleasure in the effects of her own generosity. He remembered that look.

"See any'n' yeh like, Cap'n?"

[Ben Merasska]

"What?" he asked blankly, staring at the datapad without any real recognition. He was still replaying Meorrrei's words in his head. He was right. That woman was bat-shit crazy.

He flicked through the ships, and looked at both Meorrrei and Romanoch before perusing the almost dizzying array of freighters the rich woman laying in the bed owned. Ben's blank shock lasted for a moment, until he took a hold of himself and capitalized on her generosity.

Finally, he'd narrowed the choices down to two ships: a Kazellis class, and a Crescent-class.

"One of these, I think," he said, still feeling like he was in a dream. There'd been no Nubian ships, but then Nubian ships were impossibly rare, especially now. "I'd have to take a look at them before I decide."

With that done, and still feeling like reality had taken a turn for the surreal, he pulled out the clothing chosen for him from the bag Romanoch had brought in. He glanced up at the younger man and back at the tunic.

"Uh," he said. "Thanks."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Kallum presented the Rrou'fai her own clothes, which Taataani preceded to inspect after untying her hospital gown and letting it fall to the floor.

"Captajin Merrassska, therre'ss a condjitjion on that sshjip. jI want jyou to fljy jit forr me."

She held up Kallum's chosen outfit for her against her naked form, then looked across the room at the mirror on the refresher door. Kallum had her size exact, the way she figured it. Slipping easily into the undergarments, she, slid the beginnings of the outfit on, and looked to Kallum expectantly. Taurrifar's absence here was palpable. He'd always tended to her wardrobe so skillfully. As long as the human got her out in public without looking like a fright, she'd be okay.

[Ben Merasska]

"Uh," Ben said, before idly noticing he'd been saying that a lot more often lately. "What?"

He'd been saying that quite a bit too.

"Are you... offering me a job?"

This was too good to be true, but he held back out suspicion. Nothing good ever happened to him without balancing out with something equally horrible.

But Ben could never stop hoping that he'd come upon that one in a million chance of finding his place, somewhere he could fly and live without fear of dying.

Stupid, yes, but Ben was never the sharpest knife in the kitchen drawer.

[Kallum Romanoch]

"Okaaay, 'ow do I do dis?"

After circling Taataani, and the mad tangle of fabric in which she was wrapped, Kallum frowned and dived in. Opting to start from behind, where he was safely hidden from the gaze of the discerning fashionista, he started to tie things together. There were no yelps of pain, which was always a good sign, and with each new dainty knot, the dress began to pull itself together into something resembling... a dress. Enthused by his progress, he whirled around the matron with a shimmering length of material in his hand, and then dashed the other way with another piece of fanciful fabric, transforming his employer into a veritable maypole. There were mistakes, of course, which he went about dutifully correcting, and while pulling strings and fastening clasps he noticed Taataani, reflected in the window, and the look upon her face when she thought no-one was watching. Still, she kept her composure, and the interplay with Ben made him smirk.

"Mam, if yeh'da told me dis was gonna be a business meetin', I'da brought deh man a suit," he tossed a glance over his shoulder, and winced painfully at the sight of Ben's tunic, "Ne'mind, eh? Deh man maketh deh suit, right?"

He didn't sound too convinced.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani occasionally oomphed as Kallum cinched her up, her generous figure forcibly conforming to the dress, whose lines were cut in such a way to impart illusory slimming contours where they were needed. She watched over his handiwork, occasionally offering an extra hand to help her majordomo place a pleat where it should go, or to tie a bow in just such a way. This ritual always made her feel like a caterpillar spinning a cocoon. She'd be a butterfly soon...more or less.

"jYess Captajin, a job, a...oomph sshjip, an aparrtment on Carshoulis, a trravel...oomph...Kallum!"

She huffed, slapping the Nar Shaddaan's hand slightly as he erred against her discomfort. The Matriarch continued.

"Trravel expensse account."

She looked at Ben, who'd predictably blanched at the enormity of the offer, and a look of mild irritation crossed her face.

"Ssajy jyess."

[Ben Merasska]

"...An expense account?" Ben asked, grimacing at the sight of the clothing article he was supposed to be wearing. "What... I mean, why would I need an expense account? Or an apartment? What would I be doing?"

He pulled on the bottoms first, a pair of off-white yellowy pants that were cut off just below the knee. Breeches? He sighed and wished for his jumpsuit. Not stylish, but worrying about style when piloting was a sure way to get himself killed.

No boots either, but open sandals that Ben couldn't figure for the life of him; he ended up just tying the straps of the sandal into knots around his ankle, and triple knotting to keep from stepping on them while he walked.

Finally he took off the hospital gown and pulled on the tunic, which was only slightly too large for his frame. He was fine with it being too big. Things got ridiculous when they were too small.

[Kallum Romanoch]

"When yer on a payroll wi' MeorrreiCorp, Cap'n', ye'll find da' deh big boss woman doesn' do things by 'alf. By deh looks of i', yeh've earned mam's trust here... oh, ye'll be payin' da' one off fer a long time."

Kallum peeled his gaze away from Ben to cast a wickedly knowing glance up at the matron. It was nice being on the other side of the fence, and to see all that wealth and power do some good outside of a boardroom. Busy hands fastened the last clasp with a flurry, and he stepped back to inspect his handiwork.

"No' too shabby, if I do say so meself! Yeh brush up alrigh', yeh do, mam!" he said, with a satisfied grin, then Ben's thrice-knotted sandle straps caught his eye, "Woah der, grass'opper! Gorra learn teh walk before yeh run... gonna 'ave yer work cu' ou' fer yeh wi' dis one, mam."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani gave the outfit a try, moving about to get a feel for Kallum's handiwork. He had her trussed up a bit tightly, but it was a serviceable job, and her ears showed her approval.

"Loveljy, Kallum. jYou've pjicked up an ejye forr fasshjion jI neverr thought posssjible."

She gave her bust a bit of un-subtle adjusting, and made a face at the poor state of Ben's shoes.

"Captajin Ben, no. Kallum, jyess help, good."

Okay, so Ben was going to need...work. But all diamonds start off in the rough, no?

"Captajin..."

The Rrou'fai took stock of the nervous pilot, crossing her arms as she did so.

"jI'm the barronesss-executorr of Koenssajyrr-Meorrrei. jI have extrremeljy jimporrtant bussjinesss and jI need a grroup of well-trrajined pjilotss to occassjionalljy, well, fljy. Long terrm."

Was she going to have to draw a picture for him? If he fainted, that would just be embarassing.

[Ben Merasska]

"Well, uh, yeah, I figured that much," Ben answered quickly. "But what sort of job would I have? Freight? Courier?"

He winced at saying courier, remembering how well his last courier job went; it ended up with him here in a hospital and this woman's husband dead.

"Only so many times will I say yes to a job only to find out the consequences are a bit out of my league to handle later," he half-explained, before looking at his sandals. He deflated a bit, having thought himself pretty slick for working around the difficulty they'd presented earlier.

He looked back up at the two and shrugged.

"They're sandals. How often do I need to wear sandals? Boots have done me just as well - no, better! - without needing all this strap."

[Kallum Romanoch]

"Dey are a bi' naff," said Kallum, regarding Ben's leather-bound feet with pity, "An' I feel bad abarr i', really. Bu' den I remind meself da' a' least I don' 'ave teh wear 'em, an' den deh pain goes away. 'Ere, twinkletoes!"

Swooping down, he attacked the first cluster of knots with vigorous determination, unravelling the damage the fashion-deficient pilot had inflicted upon his rather humble footwear.

"Rule number one, Cap'n'," he grunted, yanking the straps loose, "Always look deh part. In dis case, da' means lookin' like a tourist, bu' fer deh time bein', I reckon we can jus' chalk i' down t'yeh bein' one o' deh boss's eccentric rich mates. Keep still, will yeh?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Normally, the rrou'fai would have gone for the throat, but Taataani understood some aspect of Ben's waffling. It was rooted in their shared trauma. She placed a hand on his shoulder to console his fears.

"Nothjing ljike that. Not jif jI can help jit."

She swallowed back her own hesitation, and the root of it. If she sent Ben to his death, then some part of Taurrifar's final moments died with him.

"jI've alrreadjy got one funerral to attend to. jI don't have the sstomach forr two. That'ss asss much a prromjisse asss jI can afforrd to jyou, Captajin."

[Ben Merasska]

He wanted to tell her that there was no way to guard against anything like that. The courier mission to take them to their Imperial meeting was one of the easiest kinds of missions in the galaxy. Pilots fought over a mission like that, especially pilots who'd faced their share of the dangers of the job.

Instead, he just nodded, absently watching Kallum deftly tie up his sandals.

"Yeah," Ben said finally. It wasn't like he had much of a choice. "Yeah, I'll work for you."

He looked at the finished product on his feet and sighed, resigning himself to looking like one of the easiest marks thugs, thieves, and all 'round ragamuffins could hope for.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror.

"I look like an extra in Coruscant," Ben said incredulously. "One of those guys who has the bad luck of getting run over by a repulsor-chariot or something ridiculous like that."

[Kallum Romanoch]

"S'pose da' makes me deh costume depar'ment, eh?" he said, and then, as the colour drained from his face, he fired Taataani a warning glance, "I'm no' deh costume depar'ment."

It was an issue with which he could not afford to be delicate. In Taurrifar's death, Taataani had lost more than just a husband, amongst other things he'd been her personal shopper, and dressed his mistress in the most resplendent garments. He'd had an eye for fashion, a talent which, according to the matron, Kallum was beginning to develop. And now her words rung in his ears. Maybe it was cold, insensitive perhaps, but it was absolutely imperative for him to draw a line in the sand when it came to the matter of clothes shopping. This was a one-off. And what a hit-and-miss ordeal it'd been, he considered, returning his attention to Ben.

"Worry yerself not, Cap'n'. Mam will 'ave yeh lookin' snappy sharpish. Now," he retreated to the door and picked up the cage of scurrying sajoi, "Are we ready teh ge' ou' o' dodge?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani dismissed Ben's grousing with a shrug.

"Don't worrrjy, Captajin. jI'll make ssurre jyourr warrdrrobe jiss morre befjittjing the possjitjion once we make arrrangementss."

Kallum's words she didn't react to much outwardly, but she knew exactly what he meant. Once again, the Nar Shaddaan had moments of wisdom at just the right time. Was she projecting her needs onto him in Taurrifar's absence? Goddess I hope not she thought.

Mercifully, Kallum kept her on task, and she was glad to keep her mind occupied with mundane tasks. She dreaded the time when her thoughts could wander. The antidepressants didn't really seem to resolve anything, and she felt like everything was in a holding pattern. Saanjarra bless him, Kallum was doing his utmost to be helpful though. Her appetite wasn't there at all, but she humored him by eating one of the live rodent snacks. Even here he'd picked the right ones - not too old, and pleasantly fattened.

Poking the remnants of the sajoi's tail through her lips with a finger, she belched softly, and instinctively began to search for her stim case, realizing a few moments too late that she couldn't smoke in the hospital. Sighing, Taataani took a moment to check herself one more time in the mirror, using that moment to squelch any feelings of despair that lay beneath the surface.

"jI want to go home now."

Home, and to her family. What was left of it. Her words were timid out of her mouth, not sure how she was going to even manage her house without her arr'fai.

She looked to her two companions.

"jI'm rreadjy."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben turned away from the mirror and nodded, looking at both Kallum and Taataani before nodding.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm ready to go."

His eyes dropped and his mind drifted to the two ships he was going to have to choose between. He was half-afraid that the entire day was just a dream and he'd wake back up on the shuttle, cold and wet and trying to get the heat working.

He shivered, despite the warmth of the climate.

"Where are we, again?" he asked, his mind shying away from those memories and thoughts to safer topics.

[Kallum Romanoch]

"Erm, well, if I were teh try pronouncin' i', dere'd be a very real chance da' I'd end up swallowin' me own tongue," Kallum said, as he led both matron and pilot out of the room and into the corridor, "Purri' dis way, yer're in deh swankiest 'ospital in one o' deh swankiest districts on deh plane'. Jus' on deh fringes o' deh corporate 'eart o' deh Cluster. Where all deh money is!"

He jerked a thumb at Taataani for emphasis, who was first into the lift the moment the doors opened. Kallum piled in after Ben, the lift descended through twenty levels and opened up onto a chilly open space occupied by hundreds of parked speeders. On an outcropping platform sat a large Ubrikkian airspeeder, it was black with smart silver trimmings, and luxurious enough to usher royalty. It was, of course, a company vehicle. Eyeing it lovingly, Kallum fished in his pocket for the keycard.

"Y'know, i' migh' no' be deh most glamorous job in deh verse, bu', by Skywalker's skiddies, i' does 'ave its perks!"

[Ben Merasska]

"Corporate Sector, eh?" Ben repeated to himself lowly. He'd never worked for the Corporate Sector before, but it wasn't unusual for independent freighter captains to be hired for short runs out of the sector. Usually it was bulk freight, so the captains of the larger boats were favored.

He blinked and raised his hand to block out the sun, and admired the speeder.

"Hoo," he whistled. "That's gotta cost the better part of my life."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani stopped short of entering the gull-winged sedan and spun about to look at Ben.

"Don't jyou everr ssajy a thjing ljike that, everr agajin."

Still keeping a calm veneer and a soft tone to her voice, she was too tired to give any bite to her scold. But it was plain to see that she was hurt at his cavalier comment. The Matron knew at this point Ben's flair for self-deprecation, but she had to believe in the sanctity life, and that it wasn't just another piece of trivium.

Taataani climbed into the sedan's back seat, sliding so that Ben could sit beside her. She looked out the other window, at nothing.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben stopped, taken off guard by Taataani's reaction to his off the cuff statement. He grimaced, both warmed and a bit uncomfortable with how she held him in such high esteem. He was just a pilot. Not even an amazing pilot; he knew he was good, but he'd been flying for most of his life. It was practically obligatory that he develop some sort of finesse in his chosen profession. There were more than a few pilots he knew that could out-fly him any day.

He climbed in after her, and scooted in quickly, sitting next to the woman and placing his hands in his lap. He wanted to apologize, but the words got stuck in his chest and wouldn't rise. Instead, he kept his mouth shut, so at least he wouldn't make things worse. But he couldn't even do that.

"Ah," he said after a few moments. "Do... do you really own all those ships?"

The thought of owning a ship in and of itself made him giddy, much less owning more than one, or having the wealth to buy any ship that caught his fancy.

[Kallum Romanoch]

Slipping into character, Kallum played chauffeur and closed the door after Ben. He rounded the speeder and stopped by the matron's door, noting the languid expression and the far-away look in her eyes. He gave the glass a gentle tap, which snapped her out of the stupor, and she obliged him by rolling down the window. In his hands there was a ornate silver case from which a lengthy stim poked, then, rethinking his strategy, Kallum's hand opened, offering his employer the stim case itself. It was a multi-stim problem.

"Ye're talkin' teh deh Baroness Executeh o' Koensayr-Meorrrei, Cap'n'. Der's little she doesn' own. Yeh'll see! Jus' wai' 'til Life Day!"

Kallum settled into his seat with a faint squeak of leather. He glanced in the mirror to see if his light-hearted waffle was having the desired effect upon the matron. She was already sucking the life out of her first stim. When the keycard was swiped, the engines barely gave a murmur, and the speeder took to the night sky without so much as an opening lurch.

"Yeh 'ungry?" he asked, his fingers hovering expectantly over the onboard comm, "Reckon yeh mus' be sick o' da' 'ospital junk. Deh crew back 'ome can whip yeh up some tip-top scran in no time a' all. Wha' d'yeh reckon, mam?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani had to fidget in her seat to mask her contented smile from Kallum's view in the rear mirror, but there was some manner of vulgar delight that she derived from his enthusiastic puffery over her empire. Like a court barker for a Hutt in all those kadjic holos. Well...maybe that part wasn't so self-flattering.

It was also probably for the best that the fast-talking rogue sold her starship credentials to Ben. She simply nodded to the Captain's question as she reclined, watching the cityscape fly past her window.

"Captajin, jif therre'ss one jI don't own, jI can prrobabljy arrange next-dajy deljiverrjy. Thejy go frrom pojint A to pojint B. jIn that wajy thejy'rre ljike sshoess."

Her face twisted a bit as she thought it over, turning to Ben in a candid admission.

"Not the besst analogjy? Orr the besst one? jI'd prrobabljy take comforrtable sshoess overr a fasst sshjip."

Kallum chimed in with a food query. She held her middle, still unable to muster any serious desire to eat, but deferred to Ben.

"jIf the Captajin'ss hungrrjy. Wjith all the famjiljy comjing home and everrjyone elsse, jI'm ssurre we'll all be fat and mjisserrable beforre long."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben shook his head.

"I stuffed myself in the hospital," he replied. "If that place had bad food, I want to see what the good food is like when I'm hungry."

He paused, thinking a moment.

"I'm not hungry though," he resumed. "Only thing on my mind is getting into some real clothing."

He blanched.

"No offense or anything," he added. "I'm not saying nothing bad about you, or anything like that. I'm sure appreciative of all of this. That said, this is the worst thing I have ever laid eyes on, much less worn, in my life."

[Kallum Romanoch]

"An' 'ere I thought deh 'yuppie abroad' look was beginnin' teh grow on yeh," he replied, through a thin smile.

The matron's new friend was a strange one, he thought, to have survived what he'd been informed had been a traumatic experience only to be so heavily concerned with his own appearance. A quick glance in the mirror served only to multiply his confusion: Ben had a face that looked like it was made of rubber and a chin that could surely double up as a lethal weapon. No, it couldn't be vanity. He spoke with the ironic defeatism of a man who knew his place in the verse, which was a trait Kallum himself was reluctant, nay, refused, to acquire. It was humour then. Taataani did have good taste in people, real people that is, as opposed to the blustering marionettes she collected in boardrooms.

Gradually, the golden skyscrapers receded, and the swarm of city traffic became a trickle, shimmering like fireflies over a swell of crepuscular forest. Departing the stragglers, the airspeeder start to drift downwards towards the tree canopies, which in turn parted, revealing a large bald patch on the hillside. Although, to call it bald was an injustice. It was a veritable oasis of lushest greenery and considerable acreage, bejewelled with an expansive villa at its heart. Already there were manservants assembling outside to recieve their matron.

"Figured yeh can stay over a' my place tonight. Make yerselves a' 'ome."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

The Meorrrei matriarch could see the familiar expanse of her Kuurr'alli district villa. It was the closest thing to a slice of honest privacy that one could afford on Carshoulis Prime, and relied upon when that illusion of privacy was most cherished, such as times like this. She didn't dwell on the fact that she hadn't instructed Kallum of the destination. He'd had the resourcefulness to make the arrangements with the family to take care of all that. That kind of attentiveness was certainly job security. Even his current braggadocio she humored.

"That jiss kjind of jyou, Kallum."

The speeder descended like a feather on the breeze, touching down without protest on the cobblestone tarmac in front of the villa. Rows of conical Tuura trees flanked colorful flower beds, with a commanding view of a fountain nearby. Towards the villa, she could already see Ruulathaai, her most-senior husband, standing attentively with Kieran, one of her human consorts. Beyond her two mates, she saw Aleeha and Rai'faani, two of her daughters, standing in the shade of the villa's immense porch.

The matron closed her eyes, and said nothing for nearly a minute. She needed to draw on her reserves.

When she was ready, she didn't wait for Kallum to open the door. She took care of the drudgery herself, expecting her human companions to follow. Ruulathaai was the first to embrace her, as was his right, and she held fast to her mate as if he was keeping her from washing away in a maelstrom. Words in Cizeri were whispered between the two as they held fast, and she was passed on to Kieran.

Other husbands too emerged from the villa, as did other daughters and other sons, and other relatives of note. What was once a trickle became a flood, as the true tidal wave of the Meorrrei family fell upon them. Waiting in line to pay condolances were Rai'faani and Aleeha, who settled for passing their time with Taataani's human handler.

"Kallum-arr, jit'ss been too long."

Rai'faani nodded to the Nar Shaddaan in greeting while her older sister only offered the same cryptic smile he'd been afforded on Corellia. Her eyes settled on the man to his side, and her left ear flicked.

"And anotherr frrjiend? Motherr sseemss to collect jyou, no? Come have tea wjith uss. That'ss now prroperr, jI thjink. Gjive motherr tjime to collect herr ssjympathjiess."

Already, a throng of manservants and other relatives had descended on the tarmac, determined to deliver in the order of importance their heart-felt respects. Even the act of laying a loved one to rest carried with it a demanding level of pomp for a Rrou'fai.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben stayed quiet for a moment, somewhat shocked at all the people thronging his new boss, before turning to the girls standing before him and nodding distractedly.

"I'd figure friends are a good thing to collect," he murmured. Being a man of few close friends and thousands of acquaintances - almost like a politician, he thought with a little wince of distaste - such a large group put him off.

"So, uh, how many children does the mater familias have, anyway?" he asked quietly as even more piled out of the house and formed a messy, almost liquid procession to Meorrrei.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"Therre arre fjifteen of uss."

Aleeha spoke to Ben as the four detatched themselves from the rest of the group and headed to the villa's west entrance along a manicured walkway lined by topiaries and goldfish ponds. The elder of the two Meorrrei sisters carried a bit of noticeable girth at her middle, signs of a pregnancy a few months in progress.

"Motherr rrajissed a trradjitjional famjiljy becausse sshe could afforrd to."

She could see Ben's expression and understood the human's mind must be boggling.

"jI'm havjing mjy fjirrsst, and jI can't tell jif sshe'ss amazjing orr jinssane. Sshe ssurrroundss herrsself wjith people to love and to be loved bjy. Sstjill..."

Aleeha looked back at the throng, the skew of her ears betraying mixed feelings.

"...sshe'ss neverr had to face losss. Not ljike thjiss."

They were losing ground to Rai'faani and Kallum, and Aleeha took Ben's hand and picked up the pace a bit.

"Forrgjive me, jI'll jusst talk all dajy. We haven't even been jintrroduced, and mjy ljittle ssjissterr'ss neverr been long on mannerrss."

Rai'faani's tail snapped at that comment, but she otherwise didn't look back, instead keeping close with Kallum.

"jI'm Aleeha, and mjy jyoungerr ssjissterr, Rai'faani. Arre jyou the Captajin?"

[Kallum Romanoch]

"She's no' all dere when she looks a' yeh, y'know? S'pose da' could be deh drugs, dough. An' we sorta snuck ourra deh 'ospital wirrou' consul'n' any doctors or any'n' so I dunno if she should be surrounded by people or if we should jus' leave 'er alone... 'e always knew wha' teh do, didn' 'e? Maybe we shouldn' be leavin' 'er righ' now, maybe..."

Kallum's waffle trailed off into silence. He considered his shoes, his impeccable shoes on the impeccable floor, while he regathered his thoughts. Remembering himself, and his company and surroundings, he unpocketed his hands and offered Rai'faani a smile to which he couldn't quite commit.

"I' 'as been too long, Rai'faani," he said, recalling their first encounter with an absent stroking of the throat, "Yeh arright? Wha' wi'... dis an' all?"

[Ben Merasska]

"Ain't a captain," Ben answered before thinking, allowing himself to be dragged along by the pregnant Cizerack.

"At least, not yet," he amended when they'd caught up. "My name's Ben."

He lapsed back into silence, letting the others talk, soaking in the feeling of family that pervaded the place. He felt odd, like he was looking at everything from long ago and far away. Even though many of the things in the compound were hideously expensive and looked it at a glance, the place had a vibrant, earthy feeling of life; not the stale, museum like quality that many very wealthy homes sported.

Ben felt like he was intruding, a stranger in a place he didn't belong. He blinked, and brought himself down from that familiar meandering line of thought and focused instead on the conversation that had carried on without him.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

The younger Meorrrei daughter's gaze was locked in the direction they had come from, Kallum's words wedged firmly in her brain as she considered the warning signs; the hairline cracks in the unmoveable edifice that was Taataani Meorrrei's will and strength of resolve. Usually quick with a barb or a smart remark, Rai'faani said nothing.

Aleeha looked at her, also without a reply, but mainly to make sure her younger sister didn't let the silence overwhelm them. They both knew Taurrifar was Rai'faani's father, and exactly how far into the quick this loss cut her. She hadn't eaten in two days, and spent that time pushing herself to put everything just right in preparation for mourning.

Rai'faani pushed her glasses up a bit on her nose, turning to face Kallum at last. She nodded, steeling herself in some manner of stoic tunnel vision.

"Mjy motherr doessn't rrajisse weak daughterrss. jI'm fjine."

Unnerved at being put on the defensive by mother's unofficial handler, the younger Meorrrei once again led them on towards the tea room. Kallum had once been this offensive little thing to her, but now he was dangerous. Not overtly, but because he was close and familiar, and at the same time not at all. What he might see, on the outside looking in, might tear down her menagerie.

The two Cizerack women and their two human male guests made their way to the lounging couches of the tea room. The appropriate number of couches had been laid out in advance, and arrangements for tea were already prepared. Rai'faani tirelessly made sure the men found their proper places to recline, after they had removed their shoes of course. Once that was done, she helped her pregnant sister to her own seat, and then saw to herself last.

"jYou've come a long wajy ssjince that Correlljian orrphanage, Kallum. Motherr long-ssjince djisscarrded that ssjilljy aljiass of jyourrss afterr sshe fjigurred sshe wouldn't have to flajy jyourr hjide."

A conciliatory smile. She was trying to be friendly, or at least together enough to play the right social games.

"Sshe jiss sstjill cojy about exactljy what jyou do forr herr, parrtljy becausse jI thjink sshe deljightss jin makjing uss thjink sshe jiss jinssane."

Her eyes moved onto Ben.

"And jiss the Captajin anotherr ssuch mjyssterrjy?"

Aleeha corrected for Rai'faani.

"Not-a-Captajin, Rai'fa."

The younger sister flippantly dismissed Ben's modesty.

"Motherr wjill make hjim an Admjirral jif he fljiess jin a sstrrajight ljine and batss hjiss ejyess jusst sso."

A laugh, and a flip of her tail as Kuur'allo, Aleeha's first manservant, attended to everyone's tea, pouring a piping hot, fragrant, and exotic concoction into dainty porcelain for each person. A smell of flower nectar and spice lifted with a subtle kiss to the air around them.

[Kallum Romanoch]

"Don' take i' teh 'eart, Cap'n'. Cizeri women jus' like teh play wi' dere food."

Kallum did not recline in his couch. There was something inherently not right about a man of his particular calibre lounging about on antique furniture sipping aromatic tea. It was like the old brandy in the smoking room cliché, a high-society tradition which was about everything but brandy and smoking, and, similarly, tea was never just tea. Even in the face of such personal loss, the lioness prowled, and the wheedling began. The flattery fell on deaf ears, however, because, it was as Rai'faani confessed, when it came to his work she knew next to nothing. Such a rare crumb of power was to be relished.

"So, 'ow does dis work?" he said, before humouring tradition with a gulp of Kuur'allo's tea, which he discovered to be quite rejuvenating, "Deh funeral, I mean."

[Ben Merasska]

"Don' take i' teh 'eart, Cap'n'. Cizeri women jus' like teh play wi' dere food."

Ben laughed awkwardly before downing some tea quickly, and scalding his tongue in the process. He winced, swallowed, and wondered when he'd be able to taste something again.

Kallum asked about the funeral, which Ben had not thought about; not purposefully, but it had been years since he'd attended a service that was more than just a firming of his face and continuing to fly. Uncle Den was still floating around that asteroid that used to be a part of Alderaan; or at least his body was still floating around that little room.

All his fellow pilots when he'd been a Rebel had services, but it was a rare occurrence to have a body to bury.

Given that these people were adamant on making him the 'Man of the Hour' (or the 'Living Man of the Hour'), he figured there wasn't any way he'd be able to get out of showing up.

He set his tea cup down gently and tried to keep from sticking his tongue out to relieve the burning somewhat.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Aleeha shifted with some discomfort, easing her teacup and saucer back to the table before them.

"The sserrvjice jitsself jiss rratherr brrjief. Lasst blesssjingss frrom a prjiesstesss, crrematjion at mjidnjight, and sscatterrjing of asshess. Beforre that, we all gatherr forr a lasst vjiewjing, tell sstorrjiess, eat, dance, and..."

The pregnant Cizerack flicked her left ear lightly.

"...whateverr the mood brrjingss jyou to. jIt'ss asss much celebrratjion asss jit jiss mourrnjing."

Rai'faani remained silent, looking at the table as she sipped her tea. Aleeha paused a moment to see if her younger sister had anything further to add.

"jI'll ssjing ssomethjing. fatherr would want that."

Seeking anything to break out of somber introspection, Raifaani smiled a bit at Kallum.

"jYou sshould tell that sstorrjy. He told me, when motherr wanted jyou to be prressentable. Gojing to the boutjique, to the ssalon. He wass sso amussed bjy jit all. When thejy brrought out the hot wax, he ssajid jyou fajinted."

[Ben Merasska]

"You sing? He sang too." Ben asked, before grimacing and sitting back. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

For a few moments, there was quiet, the sounds of the wind in the draperies and voices of adults and children carrying through. It was very domestic, despite all the wealth.

Ben frowned as he realized that he liked it here, and felt a bit lonely. Passing it off as a reaction to the circumstances, he ignored it and looked at his empty tea-cup, feeling like he needed to get up and walk around.

[Kallum Romanoch]

"I didn' faint!" Kallum squeaked, and, in an effort to quash the slanderous assault upon his manhood, he turned to Ben, "Deh salon was 'ot an stuffy, an' stunk o' perfume, so i' was dead 'ard teh breath. I stood up after 'avin' me 'ead swilled in a sink an' jus' go' a bi' light on me feet!"

His audience looked unconvinced. It was an unfair fight. Raifanni appeared to be getting some enjoyment from his suffering (a family trait it would seem), although she was less skilled at disguising it than her old man; less skilled, or less inclined. Kallum was no stranger to self-deprecation, for a man in a matriarchal society it was a survival skill. In that regard he was something of a performing monkey, walking a highwire of bravado from which his female overlords nudged him at their whim and for their pleasure. Given the circumstances, it was the least he could do.

"I'll tell deh story," he conceded at last, "Jus' don' expect me teh sing i' - no' even deh afterlife would stop yer father from comin' back teh punish me fer da'!"