Erinyes

[Q. Samus Dage]

ALECTO
unceasing






Kitten,

Gonna be in your neck of the woods in a week's time. Nothing too important, just a routine stopover and a touch of maintenance. I'll have a few days to burn, figured you wouldn't mind the company.

Dage



It'd been a message sent without fanfare, and one that was painfully to-the-point. Still though, a part of him had to wonder if she would actually be there to greet him when he debarked. Burying his hands into the front pockets of his grey uniform trousers, Samus Dage let out a long breath as he waited for the airlock to equalize. Khera'Va'ss'io was pretty decently plug-and-play, and the ship was more than capable of dealing with docking procedures all by his lonesome. Dage more often than not wondered if the crotchety old droid preferred it that way.

The wall panel dinged, and with a pneumatic hiss, the thick durasteel panels of the blast doors of upper docking pylon 4 rumbled open.

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

Waiting for Commander Dage wasn't a five-foot-seven Cizerack K'ohta'rrou, but rather a six-foot-six Herglic Lieutenant. Wearing an inscrutably affable grin on her beak, Lieutenant Gradoona clasped her meaty hands in front of her as Commander Dage prepared to debark, letting an awed whistle past as she looked over the human's shoulder to the very distinct and alien lines of the ship corridor beyond. Snapping back to reality with a blink, Gradoona's smile narrowed from giddy to merely polite.

"Helloo there Commander Dage. I'm Lieutenant Gradoona, assistant engineer here at Jovan. How ya doo?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

Stepping onto Jovan proper, Dage rolled his shoulders just a little bit, and as the blast door rumbled itself shut, he turned a curious look to the massive Herglic.

"Lieutenant Gradoona," he politely replied in greeting.

'How ya doo' wasn't exactly the sort of question he was used to hearing, but he wasn't about to not answer.

"I'm fine, I suppose," There was certainly no looking around the hefty gal to see if any others had come with her, so Dage simply angled his head upward; thankfully she wasn't that much taller. His hands remained in his pockets, but he certainly had no qualms with flashing a wide grin.

"And you?"

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Ooh I'm swell now!" Gradoona near click-cackled, bobbing her head slightly as her small eyes nearly glinted lasciviously. A short puff blasted from her blowhole as she shifted weight on her trunk-like legs.

"Not too aaften I see such a handsome lean sip of water sidle into port, yaknoo."

[Q. Samus Dage]

There was a moment of confusion, but it passed quickly as a hand came up to scratch an itch at the back of his neck. His grin remained; in fact it seemed to grow wider.

"Well, I... "

And then a thought occurred to him. He'd heard stories about Lieutenant Gradoona from Kes. The grin wilted just a little bit, he blinked, then gave the tiniest of pivots to send a quick look back to where he'd come from. When he turned back, there was a crafty gleam to his eyes.

"... you talkin' about me, or the ship... "

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

The big Herglic parted her beak to speak, then nearly choked on her tongue as her blowhole whistled in embarassment. Tiny eyes squinted into awkward half moons as she tilted back her head in the cetacean sign of d'oh.

"Oh...ooh geepers, I stepped in that one but good, din't I?"

Leveling her gaze at the human again, Gradoona's eyes widened a little as she stammered.

"I mean...naat that you're naat easy on the peepers I think? Yaknoo I doon't really have a reference level for humans."

An alarm was rising rapidly in Gradoona's brain that she probably didn't even want to have this conversation with a superior officer.

"Oh penguins, can I get a mulligan here? Ya kiinda caught me gawkin at your ship's pretty lines and now I'm gabbin like a goober here."

Pausing momentarily for a breathy huff from her blowhole, the Herglic engineers wrung her hands before willing them to fall to her sides.

"Sooo...ya puttin' in for repair work? Doon't suppose you need a hand? Yaknoo a ship with non-standard hardware like that, ya might need a re-tooled machine shaap at the ready!"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Ha!"

It was reflex, and giving a casual shake of his head, Dage delivered a reassuring few pats to the Lieutenant's arm.

"No worries, Lieutenant," a last chuckle escaped his lips, "... a mulligan it is."

Stepping around her, he turned about on his heel so that he could still face her while walking backwards.

"As for the ship, you'd have to ask the Captain. Watch out though," he winked, though his voice held a somewhat undecipherable tone that could've been either caution or encouragement. It was up to her interpretation.

"... she's been in a mood lately."

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

~squeee~

Gradoona waved a hand dismissively.

"Bad moods change like stormy weather! Yaknoo I'm naat exactly a shiny midshipman anymore. I mean penguins, I'd still be swabbin deck if I couldn't handle grumpy brass. Uuusually for a spanner jockey like yours truly, thaat invaalves never lettin' 'em know exactly how long a jaab'll take, so's they think you're a little bit magic."

The Herglic blew a little raspberry and winked.

"Besides, she can't be a bigger battleaxe than K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei. If she was any more of an ice queen, she'd have a snowball on her tail."

[Q. Samus Dage]

The blonde gave another laugh at the mention of T'yeellaa, but was mindful to temper his mirth. His backwards motion halted, and he fixed the Herglic engineer with a strange look.

"How much do you know about the Captain."

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Whaddya take me for, a gossip?"

An indignant puff snorted from Gradoona's blowhole, but she stayed right where she was, almost glancing to the side conspiratorially. If there was something the assistant engineer enjoyed more than prawns, penguins, and cheap lager, it was juicy scuttlebutt.

"Well yaknoo her name's Meorrrei an all. Yeeaah. Thooose Meorrrei's. She's richer than Gunray's what I hear, though ya'd never know it to see her. Naat exactly a silver spoon type. She's suure a haard customer on the clock, but yaknoo I don't see her much carousin on the concourse after quittin' time. Not even at the ol' meat market."

Gradoona paused, suddenly curious at the question itself.

"Why ya ask? Gotcha a case of Syragor Fever?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Not that Captain," though it was certainly an interesting bit of spillage that'd just fallen from the Lieutenant's mouth. Something he'd have to look into, certainly.

A hand came up, and Dage shook a single finger casually at the now-closed airlock doorway.

"The one on the other side of that door."

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Oh ~haauuuum~."

Gradoona's mouth did something it rarely ever did. It closed.

"Yaknoo I don't even rightly knoow who your Captain is, now that you mention it."

The engineer scratched an itch on her beak as she shifted weight a little. She'd been smitten by ship porn and never even bothered to look into who the skipper was.

"I guess it's not Maan Maathma's smaarter sister."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Well, maybe not smarter, but certainly tetchier."

His grin returned with full force, and Dage let a silence hang in the air before finally going on.

"If you've got aims to have a gander about the 'old man' across the way there, talk to Captain s'Ilancy."

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Unless she's literally a rancor, we'll get aan like two penguins aan a slip and slide!"

With a wink and a shoulder clap, Gradoona trundled past to board Khera'va'ssio. She paused as an afterthought and turned back.

"Ooh befoore I forget, doon't take turbo tube three, it's on the blink."

[Q. Samus Dage]

A genial salute, and Dage turned on his heel to depart, but a second later he half-turned back around. Khera's airlock hatch had opened to allow the Herglic engineer entrance, and with a raised eyebrow, he waited until the familiar hydraulic clicks began before offering a final few wors.

"Well, there's a rumor going about the other line captains that she was raised by Rancors on Dathomir, but... well... "

A noncommittal shrug, and the Commander let his words hang in the air as the airlock door slid shut between them.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Spire Six primary cargo warehouse

There was a direct correlation between the heaps of scrap and floatsam currently littering the spacious cargo bay and K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei's ascending headache. Even her staid expression was beginning to slip beyond the confines of a sabacc face into something outright dour. At least some of the components were in some form of orderly array. However, the greater balance of space salvage lay in a heap of utter squalor - having not been picked through or cataloged an instead dumped where it lay to become T'yeellaa's albatross. Sixteen thousand eight hundred and seventy two tons of 'serviceable starship salvage', liberated from the Gordian Star Wreck by a contractor under the aegis of the Alliance Defense Ministry. But somewhere along the way a stink had been made of the salvaging operation on Carshoulis Prime, and now the fine ladies of the Baroness Oligarchy insisted that the Cizerack ought to tax every single ton of junk.

It was a protectionist ploy, but a loud one. The salvage company wasn't about to pay for their galactic dumpster dive to a municipal government, and the Cizerack insisted on accounting for every last ton of it on the off chance they changed their mind. The asinine stop gap was that now the salvage crew simply decided to dump their catch at Jovan until the politicians and lawyers figured it out. Commander Akiena was only too happy to place the drudgery in her lap as he fried bigger fish.

"Ma'am, exactly how are we supposed to inventory all this?"

Chief Corban had his dander up even more than T'yeellaa. While Cizeracks wore their emotions on their ears, Humans tended to wear it on their cheeks, their moods reflected in various degrees of flush. And right now, Corban's cheeks were nearly red as he pinched his mouth tight to keep from saying what he really wanted to say. He clenched the mostly-blank inventory datapad like he wanted to break it, and K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei simply glanced over his shoulder as her tail flicked and snapped with shared irritation.

"We'rre not dojing thesse foolss jobss forr them, jI don't carre who thejy worrk forr. Wejigh each pallet and take a photo."

"That's it?" Corban liked what he heard, but he was tentative. As a Chief, he above anyone liked his inventory done in a particular correct way. He'd have a crewman's ass for a missing stem bolt. The lack of inventory control suggested here made him itchy.

T'yeellaa could almost feel the discomfort coming off the Chief. They'd gotten complete bantha poodoo dropped in their laps, but he still felt compelled in some way to shovel it. The Cizerack officer put a firm hand on her chief's shoulder, claws extending slightly for emphasis.

"That'ss. jIt."

Each word spoken with purpose as she glanced towards the heap with barely constrained disgust.

Corban nodded along, buoyed a little, but still not quite there.

"Ma'am that is absolutely fine by me, but they're...on Carshoulis...they're blowing up my comm."

T'yeellaa's blue eyes narrowed. Now someone had truly fucked up. And she was going to punish them.

"Who?"

Corban attempted recollection in a frustrated shake of his head.

"I don't remember her name, but it's got the Royal Cana'daari Ministry of Auditors all over it. They're riding me rough over demands for itemized inventory. I..."

"Chjief, don't ljift anotherr fjingerr jin thjiss warrehousse, do jyou hearr me? jYou get me that woman'ss name, and that'ss all jyou do herre. Don't even pjick up a sscrrew!"

Now it was T'yeellaa's turn to broadcast her rage as her ears swung back. She let go of Corbin before she could dig into something that would bleed, and stood silent for a moment with flaring nostrils.

"Thesse people thjink thejy can end rrun arround me and pussh arround mjy crrew. Good. Good. jI've been lookjing forr a fjight anjywajy."

K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei's index finger jabbed at Corbin's chest.

"Herr name, and copjiess of jyourr corresspondencess on mjy dessk jin an hourr. Perrssonalljy, Chjief. jI want thjiss dessk jockejy to rrememberr both ourr facess, becausse the next tjime thjiss happenss, ssomeone wjill wearr herr own cljitorrjiss asss a hat."

T'yeellaa's voice peeled away in a low rumbled growl as she pushed off from Corbin, but not before kicking a salvaged crate over.

"Don't jyou fuckjing touch jit, Chjief, that'ss how we found jit!"

And with that, T'yeellaa left the cargo warehouse, hotter and more angry than ever. She needed to find something soon and kill it.

[Q. Samus Dage]

The main concourse that held the majority of Jovan's merchants hadn't really changed all that much since he'd been here last. Oh, there were a few shops he'd not seen before, but by and large things looked much the same. Meandering at a comfortable pace, Dage moved with ease through the crowds, passing through clusters of bodies and around stall patrons who'd stopped to look at seller's wares.

Ahead, a small kiosk caught his eye, and slowing, sidled up to the small overhanging counter.

"You want drink, yeh?"

The Gran lifted a hand, tapping a thick finger against a laminated paper that'd been taped down to the pre-formed counter.

"Make choice, yeh?"

Wordlessly the blonde gave a glance down to the menu; all the same fair, really. Bottom shelf drinks that only the most desperate would want to ingest. It'd occured to him as well, that there always seemed to be some sort of a bar that was visited whenever there was a stopover. It was like everything was the same routine, just on a different day and in a different locale. Still though, habit was habit and sometimes if something worked, you didn't go changing it.

Making a face that made him seem as though he was having a hard time deciding, the Alliance officer finally stepped away, a hand going up to give a wave.

"Too soon off ship, friend. Maybe next time."

"Whateva, 'Liance man. Come back when you is feelin' like a reals drink."

A hapless shrug accompanied a nod of the head. "I'll be sure to."

Both knew he had no intentions of returning.

Striking off once more, Dage continued on. He'd not gone far though, when a voice spoke to him from behind.

[Kes Akiena]

"Why can't you just come to my office like you know you're supposed to?"

As Dage turned around, Kes gave the taller man a frustrated look, a mild scowl pulling down the corners of his lips.

"I mean, it's not that difficult to do."

[Q. Samus Dage]

There was a moment of surprise as Dage looked down to the shorter redhead, but it was a bare moment that passed before his features lit up into an overly jubilant smile.

"Hey hey there, Squirt!"

He gave Kes a healthy clap on the upper arm despite the station Commander's dour expression and own crossed arms.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Three fat Dantooine hares at five credits a pop. Highway robbery, but sufficiently bloody with a chance of screaming. T'yeellaa paid the Bith for the takeout and took possession of the transplex animal taxi, full of dark thoughts and hunger-driven anger. Then she spotted an immediately familiar figure across the concourse. It wasn't easy to miss Samus for his height, nearly a head over most humans. What was he doing here? And without letting her know he was coming? Skulking like a thief in the night?

Suddenly diverted, T'yeellaa locked on to Dage's well-coiffed hair. She was nearly close enough to call out Gai'tou when the person he was talking to became immediately visible. K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei slammed the brakes on her tongue, and diverted to the more professional choice.

"Commanderr Dage."

Now pressed into company with her lover and her commanding officer, T'yeellaa's angst didn't retreat, it simply adapted.

"What a pleassant ssurrprrjisse."

Perhaps spoken too pointedly, but the K'ohta'rrou didn't display any outward remorse. The only thing that broke her fixation on her paramour's eyes was Kes Akiena in the periphery, and she belatedly nodded with a neutral posture.

"Commanderr."

[Kes Akiena]

Kes gave only an acknowledging nod to his K'ohta'rrou before focusing once more on Dage. The use of his old nickname had most certainly not gone without notice, and only furthered his already aggravated mood.

"I thought it was perfectly clear that you were to be meeting me in my office, Quentin."

He could play Dage's little name game, and it was more often than not a foregone conclusion that pulling out the trump card of Dage's first name was the best way to win.

[Q. Samus Dage]

The cringe on his features was readily apparent as Kes uttered that horrid name, and Samus pursed his lips as he diverted his gaze upward. He gave a shrug, his hands coming from his front pockets to lift up in a helpless gesture. T'yeellaa's presence only made the sound of his own first name that much worse, like some embarrassing secret that'd finally come to light; and in some ways it was. His eyes went to T'yeellaa for a brief moment, then back to Kes.

"Normally I would, but the Captain decided to rotate out that little duty to Mister Rahgus. Something about it being a spot of good for him to get out of that pilot's nest he's always holed up in."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

She'd strolled into the eye of some awkward hurricane, and the name Quentin landed on curious skewed ears that only skewed more as she saw the familiar human rosy flush rise on Samus' face. A story for another time, as T'yeellaa dared not get terribly familiar in the company of Commander Akiena. That probably was as much a mercy to Samus as it was to herself. Instead, the K'ohta'rrou merely let her ears drift back into even array, and addressed her superior.

"Chjief Corrban jiss handljing ourr ljittle ssalvage ssjituatjion."

No sense for colorful adjectives, and T'yeellaa remained deliciously mum on the murderous details soon to unfold.

"jI...wassn't awarre the Kherra'va'sssjio wass sscheduled to be jin porrt."

There was no need for a pointed glance back to Samus. She'd find time for that.

"jIss therre anjythjing jI need to attend to jin rregarrdss to that?"

[Kes Akiena]

He'd won, and he knew it. But, at the same time it didn't help matters that the ship manifest and listing was more than likely already waiting for him along with Khera's pilot... back at his office. More frustration was vented in the form of a hissed breath as Kes finally turned to his second, raising a hand to wave at the air in a gesture that dismissed T'yeellaa's question.

"No no, I'll handle it-" a quick dip of his eyes to take in her unfortunate victims, "- you've got your hands full enough as it is."

Backing away, the redhead cast a last look to Dage.

"Just be sure to let Lok know that, in the future, she needs to tell me when she decides to change up normal procedures."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Oh I'll let you do that your own self; she said something about coming over after her debriefings were finished."

There was a moment as Kes seemed to hesitate, as if suddenly caught thinking to himself, but it wasn't long before he finally gave a nod. Turning on his heel, Commander Akiena stalked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Milliseconds later, Dage let out a long breath. His smile returned as he turned to face T'yeellaa fully, and head angling to the side, he once again stuffed his hands into his front pockets.

"Hello, Kitten."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

It had the aroma of bad blood about it, and T'yeellaa's eyes lingered on Kes as he retreated back to his office domain.

Kitten brought her around, however, and she returned to Samus with all her ambivalence to his sudden appearance.

"jYess, hello. jIf jI wassn't at the rrjight place at the rrjight tjime jI wouldn't even know jyou werre comjing to Jovan at all, gai'tou."

Why was she even irritated? They were both two stellar bodies in motion with their own gravitational pulls. The terms of engagement should have been clear. At any rate, the snark seemed less appropriate now and more like friendly fire. She shook her head.

"jIt'ss a rrotten dajy. Don't mjind me. How arre jyou?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Well, I was going fine, but it seems I've landed myself in trouble."

That she'd not gotten his message was concerning, and he wasted no time in putting to rest this notion she had that he'd not stuck to his word when they'd parted ways a month previous. But, it was certainly not something he wished to simply stand and talk over. Lifting an arm up, Dage gestured for them to walk together in the direction that would take them to the nearest lift.

"I sent you a message a week ago saying I was going to be in town."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

No you didn't was the petulant bite-back ready to go, but Samus was smart about their surroundings, so T'yeellaa put a pin in that.

"jIt doessn't matterr." She dismissed with a shrug and a sigh. "jI mean, we both have ourr platess overrflowjing sso jI'll take what jI can get."

Waiting for the lift seemed to slow time down by some dark magic, and their professional-friendly charade felt confining around the crush of foot traffic passing them by.

"How long arre jyou sstajyjing?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Bout three days."

The lift arrived, disgorging a small cadre of Dugs who barreled their way past.

"Of course," he deferred to her, allowing her first entry onto the lift before following. The door closed, shutting them away from the rest of the station for a small amount of time. "... if I've done something wrong, and you'd rather me not be about... "

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Sshut up."

T'yeellaa's right hand was already up behind his neck and trailing blonde locks, coaxing his lips down to hers to quiet them as she met in a kiss metered equally in urgency as it was in ease. There were levels of paradox to whatever this was. Thinking about it seemed to miss the point. His smooth tongue against her rough opposite, even in something unspoken amorous there was room for translation.

Lips parted as a familiar trill rose in the Cizerack's chest. She held close, an easy smile seemingly alien and juxtaposed against all the vex and rage of less than an hour prior. Bloodletting rabbits or the spleen of some faceless bureaucrat back home seemed so small and unfulfilling all of a sudden.

"Therre. All betterr."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Instinctively, one hand had gone down to wrap around her lower back, pulling her close as her kiss silenced the words that he'd hoped she would silence. It was fortuitous, not to mention a small gamble he'd taken. As their lips parted, Dage hitched her just a little bit closer, grinning as he delivered a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I'm inclined to agree, but... "

And then he did step back, but not enough to completely pull away from her, and his eyes traveled downward in a rather pointed fashion to settle on the poor critters that he had a decent guess were the unfortunate recipients of her 'rotten day' frustrations.

"... I gotta be honest; you can't possibly be meaning to eat those bunnies."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The prospect of a bloody comfort gorge while wearing sweatpants in the comfort of one's own quarters and solitude suddenly seemed out of place. The rabbits for their part seemed ignorant of their stay of execution, huddled together in cramped quarters as they were. T'yeellaa tucked the caddy behind her back as her tail buoyed high, a disarmingly innocent look on her face.

"Wjith bad wjine and a terrjible actjion holo. jIt would've been a new low jin homebodjy tendencjiess."

[Q. Samus Dage]

The thought of an evening spent watching terrible holofilms and drinking wine, both while in the company of the woman that he had taken a rather polished shine to was enticing, and Dage gave her a playful wink.

"I love bad holos; Alliance Commando I'll admit is a guilty and very shameless pleasure... " The lift slowed to a stop, and the doors parted to admit them to the corridor beyond.

Hand sliding from the small of her back, the blonde took her free hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

"And I will never turn down a drink," foregoing the more gentlemanly habit of allowing for ladies to go first, Dage stepped over the threshold, pulling her almost playfully with him.

"So long as I've got company."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"So jyou do ssometjimess go fjirrsst, gai'tou."

T'yeellaa's purr-laced voice rolled like treacle as she watched him exit, deciding definitively that she liked to see him go. She didn't get much time to linger as he tugged her along, and she was happy to be in tow back in the direction that Samus already knew.

Tail lofted high, T'yeellaa traveled in tow towards her quarters. There was just one little thing she'd forgotten about.

Chief Corban was standing there waiting for her.

"I've, uh..."

The stocky junior officer clasped a datapad in both hands in front of him as he watched the Commander and the K'ohta'rrou arrive in tow.

"...got the name you requested, and all the logged comms."

His eyes traveled briefly from T'yeellaa to Samus, but didn't linger but for a heartbeat before returning. T'yeellaa quickly extricated her hand from Samus' grasp, and she applied a quick veneer of cool to her persona.

"Thank jyou Chjief."

Her blue eyes barely drifted to the contents before returning to Corban. He didn't need telepathy to know that the situation had changed.

"I should go, I think?"

He'd mercifully excused himself from something awkward, and T'yeellaa was suddenly grateful for human discretion.

"That wjill be all, Chjief. And Chjief, jI meant what jI ssajid. jI wjill handle thjiss."

The earnest reassurance put a little durasteel in Corban's back, and he did his best to swallow a reassured smile.

"Understood ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

As an afterthought, Corban glanced to the unfamiliar man in her company. He wasn't so blind as to miss the Commander's pips.

"Sir."

And with that, Chief Corban made himself scarce with all due haste.

[Q. Samus Dage]

A respectful nod was sent to the departing man, but it wasn't long before his attentions were once more returned to T'yeellaa and her unfortunate meals. The small creatures were huddled together, their big black eyes wide, long ears swung back to lay against their backs. In a show of graciousness, Dage relieved her of the carrier.

"Keeping yourself busy then, I take it?"

He wasn't going to pry too awful much into whatever she'd said she would handle, but he wasn't a stranger to the need for venting.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Oh, jyou know. Ssome of thjiss, and ssome of that."

With Samus unburdening her of food she'd put off eating till later, T'yeellaa tended to the access pad on the door to her quarters.

"Plottjing the crreatjive demjisse of mjy enemjiess." she muttered with an annoyed ear flick. A moment later the door slid open, and T'yeellaa turned on the lights, heading to the small kitchenette to retrieve the aforementioned bad wine sitting prominently on the counter in a vacuum-sealed carton. She let the datapad clatter next to the wine carton, then went to retrieve a pair of nondescript plastic cups.

"jI majy not have jinhejirrjited mjy motherr'ss bussjinesss acumen, but jI got plentjy of herr temperr. Therre'ss an audjitorr on Carshoulis that ought to thank jyou forr drroppjing jin on me and defussjing ssome of jit."

Samus was still toting the animal caddy, and he seemed almost a little protective of it. It was ridiculous and cute at once. T'yeellaa paused in the middle of fishing off the plastic wine cap and smiled as she rolled her eyes.

"Alrrjight, put thosse on the counterr. Thejy'rre ssafe jif jyou'rre pajyjing forr deljiverrjy jinsstead."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He obeyed, and setting the carrier on the counter, Dage gave the clear top a little tap while leaning down a bit.

"Don't worry little guys," his voice fell slightly to a badly delivered 'whisper'. "... I won't let the mean lady eat you."

Blinking, he sent his eyes up to his companion, giving her a wide smile before turning back to the rabbits.

"And I'll gladly buy her delivery so you don't end up stewing in her stomach juices."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Well that was perfectly charming, and T'yeellaa simply fixed Samus with a deadpan glance that didn't quite clean away the amusement.

"Sso..."

The K'ohta'rrou metered out oversized portions of wine into each cup, and screwed the lid back on as she closed the distance. She passed one to her guest, tipped the other to her lips, and lowered it as her ears lifted and an impish grin stuck to her face.

"...Quentjin?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

Accepting the drink with a polite nod, Dage had the cup halfway up to his lips when she let out the sound of his first name. The cup lowered, and he made a face while inwardly cursing Kes.

Cardcounting little redheaded snake in the grass...

T'yeellaa's waiting expression interrupted his inner name-calling, and he blew a sigh out from the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah."

And then he lifted the cup back up, taking a healthy level off the top. He swallowed, then finally went on.

"Not every child is blessed with parents that choose decent names for their little ones."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Come on now...jI kjinda ljike jit."

T'yeellaa took her time in sizing up and reappraising her gai'tou in the new light. Maybe there was something lost in translation. Without further insight, it was all onomatopoetic music, and she ran a hand from his high collar, to his jawline, and to the edges of his hair.

"Commanderr Quentjin."

Her tail was rolling in a playful loop as she tormented him.

[Q. Samus Dage]

He rolled his eyes at that, giving a light groan that was cut off by another sip from his drink.

"You didn't have to go through school with it," his free hand came up to rest on the counter, putting a small bit of weight on it as his head angled down.

"Mom and Dad thought it was distinguished sounding; they'd heard it on some old holo program that used to be popular ages ago. I guess they figured once I got older, it'd help my chances at a good job or something."

A memory, and he let out a chuckle.

"Poor Kori had it worse; his parents named him after a fish."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Thankfully T'yeellaa dispensed with her mouthful of wine just prior to a snort of laughter.

"A fjissh? Werre thejy mad?"

There was a story to that, no doubt, and T'yeellaa could at least commiserate with Quentin on the struggle of living under a distinguished name.

"Well, at leasst jI can underrsstand havjing to carrrjy a heavjy name on jyourr sshoulderrss. Ourr parrentss rresserrve the rrjight to hold uss hosstage bjy them, jI thjink."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Either that, or they've got a funny sense of humor."

A finger tapped the counter. Somewhat keen to move on from the woes of parental naming choices, Dage changed the subject to something that was a bit more grounded in the here and now of animal rescue.

"So, about this delivery. What am I buying you for dinner?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Whateverr doessn't gjive me jindjigesstjion orr jyou morral crrjissjiss, jI guesss."

Shrugging, T'yeellaa took a few quick strides to her desk and tapped up a holographic interface for deliverable services. She swiped her hand through the air a few times, moving some obvious non-starters off consideration. Tia'haako was obviously out. Something Ithorian with a vegetarian and vegan menu was vetoed by the K'ohta'rrou in short order.

"We could alwajyss orrderr frrom Djiktat'ss Rroosst agajin. jI djidn't hate jit."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He shook his head, moving to follow after her.

"Naw, no sense in doing that again. Should try something new that neither of us has had... "

Standing just behind her, the blonde leaned down, one arm snaking over her shoulder to rest across her chest. He stared at the list she'd brought up.

"There, what about that?" his off hand gestured to one of the many names. "A Bothan steakhouse. Sounds good, at least."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"The onljy rresstaurrant jyou mjight get jintentjionalljy pojissoned at."

Grim humor aside, T'yeellaa wasn't dismissive of it. The pictures, true to the restaurant's namesake featured generous selections of meat and a minimal amount of fuss - minus the usual tendency to drag it over a fire or whatever it was that aliens usually fancied. A cutaway shot of one steak looked almost sanguine.

The price however caused T'yeellaa's eyes to boggle.

"Kosa, jiss that forr the whole bantha?"

Samus had already offered to cover the tab, but she wasn't about to let him fall on his sword over the bill.

"We sspljit the bjill."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Well, they'll bring us nerf, bantha, fancy nuna, shaak, even dewback cuts."

That last one wasn't what he was expecting, but Dage was not one to balk at different food.

"I'd expect the price to be on the high side. It's no hardship for me, but if you're dead set on splitting, I won't say no."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Unlesss an Alljiance Commanderr makess that much morre than a Prrjide K'ohtarrou, jI know jyou'rre ljyjing. We chjip jin even."

It was stupid and chivalrous and...exactly what she would have offered if the shoe was on the other foot. T'yeellaa was still getting used to dancing where both partners wanted to lead. She kissed him on the cheek and stood up.

"Okajy, call jit jin. Mentjion mjy name on the orrderr."

Heading back to the kitchenette, T'yeellaa again drifted back to the datapad as if by gravity. She hefted it and scanned a few items, quaffing wine absently as she began to tinker.

[Q. Samus Dage]

Making the actual call was the easy part; placing the order was a bit more difficult as everything on the menu looked so much better than any fancy sort of food he'd ever had. In the end, Dage opted for the full spread; Garlic roasted bantha filets, butter and herp crusted shaak tenderloin, nerf fatcap, a smattering of spit roasted nuna legs, fire grilled dewback cutlets, and a smattering of other meats. Each he was mindful to request as rare, and after a half-hearted few choices of small salad bar items (because honestly; who gets rabbit food from a steakhouse?), he finished the order with a request for two bottles of a Rodian red that he was assured would go best with the veritable feast he'd requested. As she'd asked, he mentioned T'yeellaa's name, and a moment later he was given the total cost. It wasn't astronomical, but it wasn't cheap either, and sending a quick look to his significant other, the blonde turned back quickly, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper before a word of thanks. A moment later, the comm was silenced.

"All done, Kitten."

He grinned disarmingly as he moved to join her in the kitchenette.

"And I made sure to let them know to leave everything as rare as possible," propping himself up on the counter, he leaned forward in a show of purposeful nosiness, angling his head to catch a glimpse of whatever it was she was reading.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"That'ss njice..."

She droned, obviously distracted by the datapad as she scanned through the dozen or so messages a Mrs. Taianarroa had sent to Corban. Innocent queries becoming more detailed and insistent, trying to strong-arm him onto her timetable. The cheek of this woman! T'yeellaa's face began to set again into a scowl as she considered her options. The location stamp suggested the time was currently business hours on Cana'daari, but T'yeellaa would be damned if she was going to let her have it so conveniently. Besides, she was busy with...

"Hejy!"

She pulled away from Dage as he obnoxiously made a show of snooping, and pushed her tail tuft in his face as she got the message he was truly intending to send. She locked the screen and put the pad away. No more distractions. She wouldn't give Mrs. Taianarroa the satisfaction of knowing she'd been inconvenienced.

"Djid thejy jinclude a djisscount?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"They did."

He smiled, teasingly pulling at a few hairs from her tail tuft. Certainly not hard, but enough to be a nuisance.

"Now. To go with our dinner, what sort of delightfully bad holo did you have in mind?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Well that was an (expected) bit of good news. One pragmatic vendor started issuing discounts to military service personnel within a week of setting up shop. Almost instantly, the entire of the concourse seemed to have fallen in line, and T'yeellaa was happy to have such a perk in her favor. One of the boons of all the forrda on the station, as that sort of preferential treatment was about as foreign as anything back home.

Samus continued to tease at her tail, and T'yeellaa glanced at him testily, almost as a question of if he wanted to continue that course of action. Her hand found his thigh, and she lazily let her claws stretch out, tapping against the thin material of his slacks.

"Everr watch much Taa'riwood?"

The name was a forrda mashup to describe the home-grown Cizeri holo industry, and T'yeellaa never understood what taa'ri (fermented fish roe) had to do with it, but the term became so prevalent galaxy-wide that even Cizerack audiences picked up the name and ran with it.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Can't say as I have."

Which was the honest truth. While he did enjoy a holo whenever the chance arose to actually watch one, his time was more often than not taken up by other tasks and hobbies. And on those nights when he did find time to put something in the player, he was usually sound asleep within the first ten minutes.

Releasing her tail, the blonde squared his shoulders back as he looked down at her claws. Slowly, his eyes tracked back up to meet her own.

And quick as a whipsnake he reached out, wrapping one arm beneath her shoulders while dipping down with the other to swoop in behind her knees in a swift motion that brought her up into his arms. Not to mention it had the benefit of removing her clawtips from their previous position.

"I may not mind letting you foot half the bill," he stepped from the kitchenette and back into the more spacious living area, carrying her easily enough. The tone in his voice held a very obvious playful bit of gravel.

"... but I'll also not think twice about adding a new uniform to your half if you go putting holes in mine."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Dage's sudden swoop elicited a short mirthful laugh from the Cizerack, who was impressed with how assuredly he'd scooped her up. With a trill in her throat, T'yeella played the part, lazily running extended claws over the material of Samus' coat, just shy of enough to nit the fabric.

"Forrtunateljy forr uss, gai'tou, mjy frrugal habjitss allow me to afforrd occassjional bad behavjiorr."

She smiled, showing some teeth as her tail wandered. It was a big game. Neither of them would want Samus to make the long walk in the morning wearing a bath robe on account of his regulation gear being ribbons.

Noticing he'd let her drift a little from the counter, T'yeellaa reached for her wine glass precariously, eventually returning it to her attention.

"Computerr..."

The three note tone overhead indicative of the Imperial logic system interface sounded in punctuation.

"Load holoprrojectorr. Si'entaa Ree Forrce, Thunderr Poljice Thrree."

The computer took a second of active processing time, then chimed in reply.

Load complete. You may view when ready.

[Q. Samus Dage]

An hour later found Samus nestled comfortably on the sofa, an array of meats layed out on the caf table in various states of having been picked over. T'yeellaa seemed happy enough to burrow up against him, and he'd obliged more than happily with a protective arm around her. The sounds of Thunder Police Three punctuated the air around them with blaster fire, shrieks of pain from whatever criminal was being shot up at the time, and harsh words spoken back and forth between good guy and bad guys alike.

Of course, it was all noise. Barely registering in his brain. His comfortable position had done its' work, and Dage's head had, fifteen minutes previous, fallen back as the meal and the movie both worked to lull him into slumber.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The expensive Bothan repast had definitely hit the mark, and T'yeellaa happily upgraded her woeful wine for the one the restaurant sent along which definitely complemented things. By the time the explosions, woeful dialogue, and ridiculously choreographed song and dance sessions that peppered the action were underway, T'yeellaa was under half-lidded torpor. She purred against Samus' lanky form, warm and comfortable in his embrace.

But even now, she couldn't fully commit. Couldn't simply drop everything and enjoy it, or do as Dage did and let sleep take her. Idle space in her mind let work frustrations creep in, and T'yeellaa was back to thinking about dealing with the threat of Cizerack audits, and her sated purr came to an end. Confronting the fact that she was still thinking about it made her annoyed, and she wished she could just let go like Samus did.

Redoubling her efforts, she lay against her human paramour and wondered about the prudence of a third glass of wine.

[Q. Samus Dage]

It was as a particularly load explosion sounded from the holo that he jerked awake. A sharp intake of breath as he surged forward, very nearly dumping T'yeellaa over in the process. Blinking furiously, Dage lifted a hand up to rub at his eyes as he let out a light groan. As an afterthought, he gave a sideways look to her while carefully pulling his arm up and away so that he could wipe both hands down the length of his face in the hopes of wiping away the ghostly remnants of old memories.

"Sorry, Kitten."

A rueful chuckle despite the low rasp of his voice, and in an effort to pull himself back to the here and now, he reached out to take up his own glass of wine and finishing what was left.

"Maybe something with explosions isn't the best thing to fall asleep to."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Well now she was awake. T'yeellaa stood up as reflexes kicked in from Samus' heavy stirring. Her sudden uprightness elicited a need for a stretch, which no Cizerack ever did in halves. The motion rolled from her shoulders down to arching back, taut legs and buoyed tail in one building release.

"Well afterr that much meat and wjine we prrobabljy could ssleep thrrough a rreal explossjion."

It wasn't as if they'd planned big for the night. It was a tour de force of low key cohabitation. T'yeellaa switched off the holo.

"Do jyou want to go to bed?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

He thought about that, and slowly pushed up to his feet while in the same motion taking up his now empty glass.

"Perhaps," he sidled in close, his off hand half-cupping her jawline as he leaned in to deliver a gentle kiss to her temple, "... but I think I can stay awake for one more glass of wine."

His hand slid across her shoulder and down the length of her upper arm as he slid past her and headed for the kitchenette.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Her ears buoyed at the resumption of playfulness, and T'yeella watched him top off.

"Well that'ss all jyou. One of uss sstjill hass to worrk jin the morrnjing." she winked.

Just then, the wall comm pinged, causing the felinoid's ears to flick. She checked the chrono. It was late, but not criminally so. It wasn't an internal band, which meant it was a comm from outside Jovan. Curiosity skewed her ears, and T'yeellaa padded over to the terminal to engage the hologram, but not before a brief bit of preening to ensure she was presentable.

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

A woman's visage appeared in the air. Cizerack, and with a reasonably strong resemblance to T'yeellaa. She beamed a smile.

"Ja irra, rrou'ehi. jI hope jit'ss not too late to talk."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He paused at the sound of the voice, giving T'yeellaa a curious look before letting his eyes pass to the image of the other Cizerack woman.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa gave a quick glance in Samus' direction, as if to take stock of where the night was going. Even odds between a marathon fuck session or going straight to sleep with a detour at light petting. She smiled as if to say all's well, and turned back to her sister.

"jI haven't gone to bed jyet, Rai'fa. What'ss up?"

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

She'd definitely seen that side glance off screen correctly, and Rai'faani's smile turned smaller and somewhat lecherous.

"Brrought ssomeone home? Ssomethjing prrettjy orr exotjic?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

There was something to be said for not being seen, yet still being privy to a conversation, and Dage raised a single eyebrow at the last word spoken. Like some some glossy plumed Corellian peacock, he hitched his shoulder back while running a hand down the length of his uniform tunic and making a show of puffing out his chest. A supremely self-satisfied smirk met T'yeella as he mouthed two words, feigned pride and smugness written comically on his features.

I'm exotic.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The elder Meorrrei flicked her tail at her preening human partner and his buoying ego as she rolled her eyes with a smile.

"On the frrontjierr, ssjissterr? jI wass luckjy to fjind one wjith all hjiss ljimbss and a face that doessn't look ljike a potato."

T''yeellaa waggled her eyebrows to her left slightly. That'll take a few tail feathers out.

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"Well assk hjim jif he'ss got a prrettjy brrotherr becausse jI'll harrdljy have tjime to jinsspect everrjy sswjingjing cock when jI arrrjive but jI'd sstjill ljike to fjind ssome decent ssporrt fuck."

It was a half-joking request. But only half.

"Wjill jyou be able to get awajy frrom thjingss forr half a dajy? jI'd ljike to go sshoppjing wjith jyou, even jif the sstorress arre horrrjid."

[Q. Samus Dage]

A funny look was sent to T'yeellaa at the rather honest request from... her sister? Whether she called the other woman 'sister' in the literal sense or something else he couldn't quite suss out at the moment, so Dage settled for raised eyebrows, a sip of wine, and a useless swat at her tail.

"I'm more of a yam-faced guy, myself," he rumbled quietly, offering his official opinion with a sly wink.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

A subtle change in the skewing of T'yeellaa's ears might have gone unnoticed by the human, but it signaled unguarded surprise in his partner.

"When jyou arrrjive, Rai'faani? jYou'rre comjing herre?"

This was the second time today that T'yeellaa had felt out of the loop and left to look like an ass.

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Rai'faani's left ear flicked in exasperation as she rolled her eyes.

"Do jyou even open mjy commss to jyou, rrou'ehi? jI told jyou jI wass comjing to Jovan thrree dajyss ago. jI could have flown non-sstop to Ssullusst but jI padded mjy sschedule sso we could have fun. And rrealljy...jyou could usse fun."

The younger Meorrrei multi-tasked as she fussed, pulling out a nail file as she fined down her claw tips.

"Sso jI'll be sseejing jyou and jyourr prrovjincjial bed-warrmerr jin the morrnjing. And jyou'rre offjicjialljy on notjice now, sso clearr jyourr sshedule. Love jyou lotss."

With a wink and a kiss, Rai'faani terminated the comm.

[Q. Samus Dage]

For a moment after the holo blinked out of existence he said nothing. At least it didn't seem like there was anything to say in the wake of T'yeellaa's sister, Rai'faani, and the unexpected news of a visit. His smile did at least remain though, and with a sip from his glass, Dage let himself lean against the counter.

"So. How often do you check your messages?"

At least his wasn't the only message not received.

Another thought occurred to him, and his features fell into a somewhat stern expression.

"Also, this provincial bed-warmer wants to know if he should be concerned about this visit."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Cracks were beginning to form in the firmament, and T'yeellaa crossed her arms as she frowned. Samus' ribbing didn't help, and the K'ohta'rrou wasn't taking the matter jokingly anymore.

"jI sshould be gettjing a prrompt forr anjy jincomjing messsage, and even jif jI don't, jI sstjill check at the top of the hourr."

Signal latency on Jovan had been touchy in the opening few weeks, but surely they were past that now? The HoloNet relay was fully vectored on the network. It was deeply vexing, and T'yeellaa tugged at an ear tuft absent-mindedly, until Samus cracked wise to make light of things again.

"What? Oh, herr?" She gave a slight eye roll. "jI thjink jyou'll be fjine. Sshe ussualljy huntss djifferrent prrejy."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Prey. Cute. But still, he could sense the simmering frustration peak through a few forming cracks in her exterior, and the blonde reached out to pull her close in an embrace.

"If you say not to worry, then I'll not think twice about it."

Of course there was now the matter of her having to free herself from her duties for the next day. He himself had a few tasks to make sure were seen to, but it wasn't nearly the workload as the station staff. Nevertheless, Dage planted a kiss to the top of her head, the scent of her shampoo filling his nostrils. In a further act of attentiveness, he held his glass to her so that if she wished, she could partake.

"Just let me know if there's anything you'd like me to do."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jYou'rre on leave." she replied firmly, taking the glass from his hands with a sudden renewed thirst at the added ridiculousness of her younger sister's unanticipated arrival.

"Enjojy jyourrsself. Losse the unjiforrm forr a dajy."

To emphasize the point, T'yeellaa deftly hooked a claw at the fabric over one of Samus' buttons, unbuttoning a section of his uniform top with a charmed smile.

"jI'll ssquassh thjiss audjitorr prroblem and get tech to look jinto mjy comm trrouble fjirrsst thjing jin the morrnjing. jYou ssleep jin, and jI'll brrjing brreakfasst."

She took another drink, then passed the cup back to Dage and gave him an authoritative, punctuated kiss.

"Good njight, gai'tou. jIt'ss sstrrajight to bed forr me."

T'yeellaa passed by the human as she began to unbutton her shirt. Her tail slinked up knowingly, hugging the countours of his leg and running up slowly as she turned with a sly expression.

"Perrhapss tomorrrow njight jyou can keep me up laterr?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

He hesitated, but seconds later he was trailing after, still holding his wine. Upending the glass, the blonde deftly set it on a small wallshelf as his off hand took gentle hold of the tuft at the end of her tail before giving it a playful tug.

"Oh no, Kitten, you'll not pass me off quite that easily... "

Unencumbered by the glass, his now-free hand came out to grab hers as he slipped ahead of her into the bedroom, and with a forceful pull, sent her on a trajectory toward the bed.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Oh this is a mistake came an insistent-yet-distant thought in T'yeellaa's mind as she went along for the ride, splashing on the bed. By the time she hit the mattress, she'd committed to stupidity.

And honestly, stupidity wasn't all that bad.




* * *



04:30


BEEP
BEEP
BEEP
BEEP

...this was the STUPIDEST idea!

T'yeellaa's eyelids rolled up like curtains, revealing bleary angry blue eyes tinged with bloodshot accent. Her head hurt. Her back hurt. Her arms and legs hurt. Not from anything she'd done the night before, but rather what she hadn't done, which was sleep very much. She'd slept so little that she actually hurt from being tired. She existed in exquisite ambivalence between anger and something pathetic and sad. She couldn't even properly curse or grump or whimper, lest she wake him up and it was all his fault anyway and...

T'yeellaa's face moved from scowl to grimace to blank resignation. She yawned a few times, blinked the irritation out of her eyes, and gracelessly frankensteined out of bed onto solid deck where she went to work on a full-body stretch to put back some of what ailed her. It felt good/horrible. With that done, she gingerly padded into the living area, put on the kettle for her morning kri'achee tea, and made sure her hair wasn't a rat's nest. All the vinegar she'd built up inside to broadside into that nosy Cizerack auditor had mostly petered out into procedural doldrums, and instead of a face-to-face berating, she was going to compromise with her sad state of morning person-ness and settle for an angry letter.

A few minutes later she had her tea which didn't exactly settle her mood or feelings but did make her a little more awake, and she set to work on a sufficiently scathing communique. Respect the chain of command. If you've got anything to say to my men you say it to me. The most damning part was the end, in which she simply added her signature stamp of T'yeellaa Meorrrei. Her inescapable family name was now useful as a cudgel.

Drowsy-eyed, T'yeellaa spent a few minutes proof-reading her rant, then realized she'd added profanity. Deleted. Some things weren't as satisfying in text, and the whole need to be professional meant you put catharsis up on a shelf for later. Iron inside lace and all that.

[Q. Samus Dage]

In a groggy show of solidarity, Dage gave a light groan before himself rolling cautiously from the protective layers of covers that he and T'yeellaa had burrowing into with wild abandon. Perhaps it'd not been the best of ideas to carry on the night previous, but he had no regrets. Bare feet hitting the floor, he pushed himself up to his feet. He could hear her in the other room, and sauntering from the bedroom without a care in the world (other than perhaps it was awful early), Samus Dage gave a yawn.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Not ssleepjing jin?"

T'yeellaa glanced from behind the glow of her monitor at the much less worse for wear form of Samus stretching and strutting. Her ears cocked at the absurdity. How in Sanjaarra's name did humans operate on so little sleep? No wonder they lived fewer years than Cizerack when they could get almost twice as much done in a day.

Still rubbing sleep from her eyes, T'yeellaa sipped at her mug with a grimace.

"jI made kri'achee."

Pausing, she corrected with a shrug.

"jI thjink therre'ss caf jin the cupboarrd ssomewherre."

She had a plan about treating him when he woke...at a respectable hour. He'd foiled that, naturally.

[Q. Samus Dage]

A hand came up to try and further wipe the sleep from his eyes. It was only a partially successful endeavor, and only gave him cause to yawn once more.

"I'm fine," he half-rasped, "Could use some antibiotic cream though... "

He moved slowly, head going down to inspect a few of the crisscrossed red lines across his chest. A finger ran over one of them, and he hurfed out an unintelligible grumble.

Finally a sigh as he look back to her.

"Ever thought about using nail clippers?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Well at least he could commiserate in some grief. T'yeellaa's ears raised in time with a glib grin.

"Love hurrtss, gai'tou."

Extending the sharp claw tip from her right index finger, she pointed casually towards the refresher.

"Kolto ojintment jiss jin the medjicjine cabjinet. Don't be long, jI need to get jin the ssonjicss and get drresssed."

T'yeellaa paused just shy of gulping down the last of her tea, mindful to leave the dredgy sediment in the cup. She then tried for another round of stretching, bracing extended claw tips at the edge of her desk as her shoulders rolled slowly.

"Rai'fa'ss fljight getss jin at 0700, and jI need to let Commanderr Akjiena know jI'm...jindjisspossed."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Turning to look at where she pointed, Dage turned on his heel to amble his way to the 'fresher.

"'Fresher is big enough for two people to use, you know," he grouched good-naturedly.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jYou fed me a ssmall forrtune worrth of exotjic food lasst njight and jI jusst fjinjisshed mjy morrnjing tea."

Since he was being cute and obtuse, T'yeellaa would have to draw a picture, which she did with lopsided ears and a smirk.

"jYou ssurre jyou want to ssharre?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

The implied was readily understood, and the blonde shambled his way into the fresher, found the kolto cream, and shuffled right back out.

"Try not to peel the paint off the bulkheads, Kitten."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

That elicited a laugh and a crinkle-nosed expression as T'yeellaa pushed on ahead.

"Jusst a qujick jin and out, don't worrrjy."

And about that time, her middle gurgled audibly.

"Could be worrsse. We could have had that dessserrt, what'ss jit called? Crreamed jice? jI've hearrd sstorrjiess."

And with that, the K'ohta'rrou disappeared into the privy with a hiss of a sealed door.

[Q. Samus Dage]

Creamed ice? Dage gave a strange look to the closed fresher door as his still hazy thoughts tried to wrap themselves around that little puzzle. It didn't take lone to figure out what she was talking about.

"Oh ice cream."

He made a face that she of course couldn't see.

"Good stuff, that."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

If T'yeellaa heard the commentary from the outside, she said nothing in reply. A few minutes passed until the silence was broken by a door chime.

[Q. Samus Dage]

He'd only just stepped into the bedroom when the door chime sounded. But, Dage was resourceful, and a few steps and an outreached hand brought him some form of modesty. Or at least a bed sheet with which he wrapped around his middle. Seconds later found him padding back out into the main living area and to the door. Reaching out, the blonde depressed the button that would open the door.

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

"Goood moorning there K'ohta'rrou, I hoope I'm naat too early in....oh!"

Gradoona paused in mid-sentence, her brain finally catching up with her eyes as she blinked and fweee'ed.

"Ooh. Well. Helloo Commander."

The Herglic's little eyes squinted and glittered as she took stock of Commander Dage's state of undress. Exactly what should you say in a situation this awkward?

"Ya havin' a tooga party?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

Dage's mist of early morning fog seemed to evaporate instantly, and he brightened up considerably.

"It's a party of a sort, Lieutenant," still though, it was damn strange that the Herglic so happened to be here, now. One hand going up to gingerly rub fingers over the still as of yet un-medicated scratches, he went on.

"Captain s'Ilancy didn't send you after me, did she... ?"

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

Gradoona blinked, shifting on her broad feet.

"Ooh penguins noo sir. I'm here foor the K'ohta'rrou. She had a little favor I was tendin' to, keepin' tabs on a list of chartered Cizerack ships. Toold me to let her knoow if one aaf 'em laagged a flight plan passin' through here. Guess she wants to be the first to knoow, yaknoo?"

It was still awkward, and Dage's little love marks didn't escape the Herglic's notice.

"Anyhoo, doon't mean to be a party crasher! Looks like the kinda party with a guest list of one, huh?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"It was, yeah. We've gone back to being responsible adults this morning."

He shook his head while giving a helpless shrug and taking a step back.

"Come on in then, since she's got you on a mission."

He turned about, heading back for the bedroom, but not before giving the fresher door a soft rap as he paassed by.

"You've got a visitor, Kitten... "

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The fresher door opened, and T'yeellaa stepped out, wearing a robe and her hair down.

"Ljieutenant."

She glanced from Gradoona to Samus with a pointed expression. Couldn't he have just taken a message?

[Gradoona Pod-Floewander]

Gradoona could definitely pick up on the chilly vibe, and she hoped a disarming smile would clear the air.

"Didn't mean to interrupt anything, ma'am. Just picked up an inbound flight plan you oughtta take a gander at."

The Herglic extended a datapad to T'yeellaa, who took possession of it.

"Anyhoo, pretend I was never here. Just give a holler if you need aaanything else."

Gradoona carefully extricated herself with a wave, backpedaling feet thumping as she stepped out the way in which she came.

[Q. Samus Dage]

Disappearing into the bedroom in the hopes of reclaiming his much-sought-after kolto, Dage purposefully ignored the look that he knew T'yeellaa was trying to skewer him with. He'd been the recipient of many such looks, and had built up a rather impressive immunity. He heard the door close, signalling the Lieutenant's hasty retreat.

The tube's cap was unscrewed, and sitting on the bed, Dage was fully focused on squeezing a small bit of the cooling cream onto a finger before lifting it up to massage into the roadmap of clawmarks that went every which way over his chest.

"My name doesn't happen to mean 'scratching post' in Cizeri, does it," he idly groused as he smoothed cream over a particularly angry looking welt on his shoulder.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa merely smiled at his joke, distracted by the datapad she had been given by the over-chipper Herglic lieutenant. She scanned the flight log for a Sorosuub ZT-89 star yacht. Registered out of Kepaa Brens, registry CJ9-994-12AK5...

"Nomaani'ss cock! Can't jI jusst have one decent dajy?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

Megaera
Jealousy



Once more in uniform, Dage had done his best in half-patching up the telltale marks of a night spent most certainly not sleeping. Of course, that pretty much just meant lathering kolto lotion all over his upper body. A quick shower, another application of the cream, and felt marginally better. Good enough to attack whatever the day held, at least.

A sideways look to T'yeellaa as he fastened the top button of his tunic, and he gave her a wink.

"I doubt it'll be that bad, Kitten."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jI ussed to command a galleon. jI could go frrom pojint A to pojint B on a whjim, and djidn't have to worrrjy about an ad hoc famjiljy rreunjion forrmjing bjy ssurrprrjisse!"

With her own uniform donned, T'yeellaa glanced at Samus as if noticing him for the first time.

"Majybe jI can ssomehow avojid herr. Sshe hassn't called, sso sshe ejitherr meanss to do ssomethjing elsse orr sshe'ss jusst plottjing to rreveal herrsself jin the mosst jinconvenjient tjime posssjible."

The K'ohta'rrou pulled back her hair tightly into a ponytail, securing it with an elastic band before doubling it up into a simple loop bun. She again turned to look at Samus.

"jI thought jyou werre gojing to wearr ssomethjing cjivjiljian todajy."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Taking on a bit of an exasperated air of his own - even if feigned - Dage gave a frown as he dusted a piece of imaginary dirt from his shoulder.

"I didn't bring any."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Exasperated, T'yeellaa threw her hands up.

"Oh mjy Goddesss jI'm not gojing to go hold jyourr hand, gai'tou. Go to jyourr sshjip and change jinto ssomethjing cassual. jI'll have enough tjime - barreljy - to wheedle a dajy of frree tjime out of Commanderr Akjiena and then sswoop bjy to pjick up Rai'faani and we can meet on the concourrsse at..."

She briefly flicked her eyes down to her wrist chrono.

"0830. Then brreakfasst, then avojid mjy motherr, then sshoppjing, then avojid mjy motherr, then make ssurre Rai'fa'ss out of mjy hajirr, then avojid mjy motherr, and we mjight get a good qualjitjy half dajy!"

[Q. Samus Dage]

It was rather cute, and Dage couldn't help but let his frown melt upwards into a warm smile as he placed his hands on her shoulders. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers in order to silence any further words.

"Sshh," he pulled away, but only enough to bring both hands up to cup her jawline. "It'll be ok, Kitten."

Another kiss, this one longer. Finally he released her, drawing back up to his full height.

One hand went out to open the door, and the blonde stepped through while in the same motion half-turning on his heel and giving her a reassuring wink.

"I'll find you."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The way that he smoothed her over and put things right was so irritating. It was as if he didn't understand the therapeutic qualities of a proper tantrum. And so she kissed him, full in the throes of ambivalence between boiling anger and girlish infatuation. She wanted to lock the doors and keep him in, and tell Rai'faani, Mother, and Commander Akiena to all pound sand.

Instead, she smiled in spite of herself and gave him a wave as he left. He wasn't gone thirty seconds before she gathered her own things and beelined it from her quarters. She headed to the lift for express access to the command deck, where she'd go ahead and settle matters with Commander Akiena first.

[Kes Akiena]

* * *


"I've got all of your routes and logs; nothing out of the ordinary to be honest."

Sitting in his chair, Kes shuffled a few datapads about the top of his desk. Mindful of the mug of caf that he'd brought in with him, the Commander let his eyes fall to a flimsi before looking back up to his guest.

"It's all procedural, you know as well as I. Hell, I'm subject to it much as you are."

The redhead gave a grumped huff as he picked up his mug, sipping carefully.

"Guess that's the punishment for stealing a ship, eh?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She sat in one of the two chairs in front of Kes' desk, one leg draped over the other and arms on the armrests. It was a deceptively calm pose.

"Well," she leaned back just a little bit as if to gain some sort of comfort. "It's not exactly the worst sentence that could've been given."

"Though how you managed a promotion I'll never know."

[Kes Akiena]

Both hands went up at that.

"I've no idea, but I'm not one to look a gift bantha in the mouth."

He smiled. "Maybe it's the red hair."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A faint smirk tugged at one corner of her mouth, and Captain s'Ilancy angled her head slightly to the side.

"I can see the grey from here, you know."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The lift slowed with a feather's touch to a halt at the apex of the station, and T'yeellaa wasted little time heading straight for Akiena's office. A midshipman's call of K'ohta'rrou on deck went barely acknowledged as the Jovan executive officer climbed the small flight of stairs up to Akiena's office, tapping the door chime at once.

[Kes Akiena]

Any reply that he might've had was cut short at the sound of the chime, and Kes leaned back as his eyes moved past s'Il and to the door.

"Enter."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeella wasted little time addressing Kes as the doors gave her clearance.

"Commanderr, jI..."

She paused, noticing he wasn't alone, and it was a familiar face accompanying him. Her ears flicked, tilting forward in polite deference.

"Captajin."

While what she had to talk about was important, it probably wasn't important enough to trump this meeting.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her torso twisted in her seat, and s'Il looked at T'yeellaa with a level gaze that soon enough shifted into a softer expression. There were definite likenesses to Taataani, but enough edge as to set the K'ohta'rrou apart. As well, she exhibited none of the standard behavior that Taataani Meorrrei often enough exhibited.

In respect, the Lupine pushed herself up to her feet, her eye still on T'yeellaa.

"K'ohta'rrou, it is good to see you again."

[Kes Akiena]

For his part, Kes remained sitting, and used the moment to once more sip from his mug.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The last time she'd crossed paths with Loklorien s'Ilancy, it had been more or less through her mother's machinations on Muunilinst. Babysitting a thoroughly inebriated Sanis Prent was hardly the kind of assignment she wanted to endure again.

"Ljikewjisse."

Polite yet cool, T'yeellaa's eyes turned back to Akiena, who had not yet dismissed her intrusion outright, nor pressed her to get to the point.

"Commanderr, jI rrequesst a dajy'ss leave frrom dutjiess."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a strange glint that shone in her eye, but s'Il said nothing as she lowered herself back down to sit once more. What was between Kes and T'yeellaa was none of her business.

[Kes Akiena]

"A day's leave," he repeated while setting the mug down. His off hand reached out to grab hold of a datapad, but he kept from thumbing it on.

Instead he sat silently, looking at T'yeellaa before finally going on.

"This couldn't possibly be in regards to your mother visiting the station, could it?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Mother, who's that?

T'yeellaa could feel Captain s'Ilancy's eyes on her as the corner of the Cizerack's mouth ticked slightly.

"jIt'ss...famjiljy-rrelated. jYess."

At risk of conjuring her, the K'ohta'rrou hazarded a question.

"Hass sshe arrrjived?"

She could hazard a few more - specifically how the Commander knew and what that might mean, but the deeper one looked into the abyss, the deeper it looked back.

[Kes Akiena]

"Not yet, no."

He'd met the Meorrrei matron only once, but his memory was good enough, and he himself held a small bit of worry over the impending visit. He of course kept that thought well under guard however.

A hand lifted then, and he gave a two fingered wave to the air.

"Leave for the day, then. I think we can handle things well enough for a short time without you."

A tap of his finger turned the 'pad on, and idly he handed it across the desk to Captain s'Ilancy, who took it without word.

"Give your mother our best."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Oh hopefully I won't have the chance.

T'yeellaa's ears dropped a degree, but raised to neutral array a moment later as she pressed her lips in a thin, strained smile.

"jI wjill. Thank jyou Commanderr."

She paused, regarding s'Ilancy once more with a curt nod before exiting.

"Captajin."

And with that, she departed. So far, so good. Now back to her quarters for a change, and enough time to scoop up Rai'faani before meeting Samus on the concourse. Good, good.

[Q. Samus Dage]

0800 Hours


Now out of his uniform, Samus Dage wandered about the merchant concourse. Dressed in a light yellow button up tucked into a pair of black trousers, he'd opted for the much more comfortable track shoes that he had kept a death hold on for so many years. They were grungy and very nearly worn out, but oh so comfortable. Also, they weren't as stifling as the boots he normally wore. He'd showered, and even made an effort to shave. He certainly wasn't dressed to impress; or at least in his mind he wasn't.

Pausing at a Rodian's trinket stall, the blonde eyed a small ruby pendant necklace. It wasn't fancy, and he briefly wondered if the silver colored chain would tarnish within a week.

Turning away, Dage let his eyes continue on, seeing but not really seeing the crowds around him.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"jYess, well, put a pjin jin that, Kallum. The Exjile Councjil have wajited decadess, thejy can wait a week morre."

Senator Taataani Fai'sheeaa Igaarraai Meorrrei held power in splendorous array, with lackeys and sycophants in metaphorical orbit. However sometimes the metaphor transcended into the literal plane, as she strolled lazily on the concourse with a small hovering sphere tethered to her from which her holographic majordomo appeared in miniature. A discrete distance away, a Cizerack male in bespoke array kept his attention on the people beyond. He was her bodyguard, a feature of her office she'd reluctantly acquiesced to at the insistence of the Pride Mother. A spy, no doubt. No matter, it wasn't the first time she'd quashed matters of espionage.

Beyond the floating miniature of Kallum, Senator Meorrrei could see the Jovan concourse sprawl. Hawkers in two dozen languages selling basic sundries alongside luxury imports. The olfactory contradictions of exotic spiced cusines lingered with the earthy, barny notes of live food animals to assail the senses as assuredly as the sights and sounds did. With her senses thoroughly stimulated, Taataani glanced offhandedly to Kallum, noting that he'd said something and that she'd not really heard.

"jI'll talk to jyou laterr."

She dismissed the hologram, which dissipated to reveal a human idly browsing one of the jeweler kiosks. He was definitely easy to look at, although he was busying himself with what had to be paste set in anodized chains. Taataani approached, feigning interest in the schlock the merchant was peddling as her tail looped around the small of the man's back in casual-not-casual premeditation.

"Sshoppjing forr an occassjion?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

The voice hadn't caught him by surprise, but the tail at the small of his back certainly did. He hid it well though, and with a slow turn to look down at the speaker, the blonde gave her a thorough once-over, his eyes calm and features neutral. Of course he recognized her, and while he'd never had any personal dealing with Taataani Meorrrei, he'd heard enough stories from s'Il. Any outward recognition however was masked by a deliberate motion of his hand to gently push away her tail. A creeping, curious grin overtook his neutral expression.

"Just browsing, Ma'am."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Taataani's ears lowered somewhat at Ma'am, a somewhat age-deferetial term humans tended to use. No other signs of disapproval manifested, however, and the wealthy matron's smile took on a touch of curiosity as she ran a fingertip along the ruby-glinted bauble.

"Forr jyourrsself? That's a kaa'ri, darrljing."

The human's neckline was appealingly bare, though Taataani could not care less if he was spoken for or not. He politely pushed aside her tail, which did nothing to diminish her casual interest in the handsome creature.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Just passing the time," he continued to grin.

Towering over her, Dage weighed his options. There weren't many. By his estimation he had twenty minutes before T'yeellaa would meet him with her sister in tow. Twenty minutes to come up with some sort of acceptable answer as to why he'd managed to land himself in company with the Meorrrei matron. Although, the thought of T'yeellaa's expression at the sight was enough to elicit a quiet chuckle.

He used the moment to take a small step away, but in the same motion he half-swept an arm out in an invitation for her to join him.

"Browsing with company is always much more preferred though... "

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"jI couldn't agrree morre." she replied with a somewhat husky tone, ears raising at his agreeable nature. "Sso manjy thjingss arre made a betterr experrience wjith companjy."

Something amused him, even in his invitation, and Taataani canted her head with curiosity.

"Do jyou know who jI am?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

They started down the concourse, and ever mindful of being the gentleman, Dage held his arm for her to take.

He gave a cursory look to the retinue that invariably followed.

"Well, you've got a decent entourage. Much better than mine."

He gave a sideways glance down to her.

"So you've either got money, a little bit of power, or both."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"Oh, hjim?"

Blue eyes glanced back to her escort.

"A harrmlesss prrecautjion. Thjiss jiss the frrontierr, ne?"

Not wanting overzealousness to sour the experience, Taataani bid her bit of muscle to run on a longer leash.

"Leeka, ja ne naa'teni su sei'janee."

The taller felinoid nodded his head, and melted into the periphery, leaving Taataani to deal with her little bauble on a more personable note. He hadn't dropped her name, which meant he was either truly an ignoramus or he was the sort to not reveal his cards in sabacc.

"Then perrhapss jit iss morre prrudent that jyou take mjy arrm."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"You're still a lady, and I'm still a gentleman."

He gave her a wink.

"Let's not defy social norms just yet, ok?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"That'ss the trrouble of thjiss experrjiment herre. No sshorrtage of dance parrtnerrss and thejy all want to lead."

Taataani held out her hand, but stopped just short of accepting.

"Let'ss keep thiss uncompljicated. jI'm both rrjich and powerrful, and mjy jinterresst rrjight now jiss a handssome face and cassual phjilanderrjy. jYou want to lead me on? jI hope jyou have a good notjion of what jyou'll do when jyou get therre."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"I'm merely being polite," his smile remained, disarming and cryptic all at once.

His arm pulled back then, and Dage proceeded to stuff both hands into the front pockets of his trousers, his offer of an arm now clearly rescinded. He shrugged.

"I'll not lead you on though," there was a touch of mirth in his voice as he went on in an obvious show of needling. "... so if it's something easy you're looking for, I saw a brothel down the way."

A cheeky glint shown in his eye.

"I've already got a lady anyway."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"Ahh."

Taataani cast a somewhat cool expression, and tched.

"Thuss the kaa'ri. Then jI would thjink jyourr ladjy ought to be carreful lettjing jyou out of herr ssjight. Beautjy can be a ljiabjiljitjy, jyoung man."

Now the nature of their interaction had changed, although Taataani wasn't precisely daunted by his sudden unavailability. The greater the challenge, the greater the reward to some degree.

"But jyou've arroussed mjy currjiossjitjy. jI'm afrrajid mjy morrnjing won't be complete wjithout knowjing wherre a path wjith jyou mjight lead. Bessjidess, we'rre both taken, asss quajint a ljimjitatjion asss that majy be."

[Q. Samus Dage]

His head angled to the side as he looked down at her. Taataani in the flesh was only somewhat like what s'Il had told him. Then again the Captain's stories were spoken by one who shared the Cizerack woman's own gender; from the male perspective... or at least his perspective, it was a fair shade different. But, he was determined to play the dullard. To a degree.

"I'm not so sure you'd be ready for where that path ends up, Ma'am."

A pause as he considered his own words.

"Or, maybe you might be. Either way, the better half should be here soon. So if you really want to, you're more than welcome to wait with me."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

There were many things Taataani was open to considering at present. Meeting this attractive human's lover was not one of them.

"The offerr jiss temptjing, but of all mjy vjirrtuess, ssharrjing jiss onljy a ssmall one. Sstjill..."

The Meorrrei matron produced a dataslip from her handbag, and with a sleight of hand to rival a magician, she slipped it under the elastic of Dage's underpants just behind the buckle of his belt.

"...sshould jyourr fajithfulnesss waverr, mjy comm frrequencjy. jI have ssome bussjinesss to attend to, but jI plan on sspendjing the evenjing wjith ssomeone herre tonjight. Mjight asss well be jyou."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He jumped only slightly, not expecting the ease with which Taataani managed to slide the dataslip in between bare skin and his briefs. It was surprising, to say the least, but after the initial shock, the blonde stepped to the side, giving her a bit of space.

"We'll have to see, Ma'am. I highly, highly doubt it though."

An almost evil, downright cruel thought flashed in his mind then, and Dage bit his lip to hopefully keep from speaking. He failed.

"You know, I happen to have it on good knowledge that Commander Akiena is without attachment."

He carefully pulled the dataslip back out before sliding it into his back pocket.

"You should try your luck with him."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

A moment of distant recollection crossed Taataani's features.

"Sshorrterr man, rred hajirr, ssomewhat pjinched exprresssjion?"

Her ears raised and lowered.

"We've met. jIf men arre open bookss, jI calculate he'ss morre of a magazjine."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Dage laughed at that.

"He's not so bad, Ma'am."

A brief look was sent to his wrist chrono; not much longer, now. Brow furrowing, the blonde let out a long breath as he ran his offhand through his hair before going on.

"At any rate, at least visit Captain s'Ilancy. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to see you."

A wink as he peeled back a layer of his own knowledge of the elder Meorrrei.

"She's told me many stories about you, Senator."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

So a Sabacc player it was, then. Taataani's smile came through earnestly at fond memories of her friend.

"Now that jiss a morre appealjing counterrprropossal."

The Senator turned to depart, and realized their meeting wasn't yet complete.

"And sshould jyou choosse to call, what name sshould jI look forr? jYou can underrsstand a Ssenatorr ssometjimess sscrreenss herr callss."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Ever the gentleman, his answer came out on instinct. He couldn't even help the casual salute. It'd become so much of a habit, but then again Taataani Meorrrei had bankrolled a hefty chunk of the old Lupine ship that he now served on.

"Dage, Ma'am. Commander Samus Dage of the Khera'Va'ss'io."

The amusement was soon to return though.

"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you tonight, though."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

His protests were feeble in the face of Taataani Meorrrei's will, and the matron's smile broadcasted complete confidence.

"Sso jyou ssajy, Commanderr Dage. But jyou'll be sseejing me tonjight. Call jit jintujitjion. Ja irra korra'nai."

One last up and down appraisal, and her smile became a smirk.

"Goodbjye forr now."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He opened his mouth as if to counter back, but thought the better of it. At least this time his mouth obeyed his brain, and Dage instead only gave her departing figure a nod and a knowing smile. Turning back to his idle stall rummaging, the rangy blonde had to wonder just how the rest of the day's activities would transpire. Then again he found himself with a small bit of worry. T'yeella and her mother were both forces to be reckoned with in their own ways; if the trend was anything like what he suspected it to be, Rai'faani would be just as much of a handful.

A hand came up then, to wipe down the length of his face as he steeled himself for what would come.

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"How do jyou worrk jin ssuch a dull place? The colorr jI mean. All thjiss grrejy jiss sso ugljy."

Next to her plainly-attired sister, Rai'faani Meorrrei appeared relatively resplendent. Somewhat taller and with a more birdish build, the younger Meorrrei sibling's hair was a mane of teased ringlets framing her patrician features. She wore a blouse that was colorful but not garish, that hugged her lithe figure intently but revealed enough midriff to be casual without direct. The look completed itself with designer pants drawing the green color accent of her blouse, and a set of heels built more to be seen than walked in.

Rai'faani's ennui-laden frown dissipated somewhat upon entering the concourse, which nearly bustled with a city's hum.

"jIt'ss ssomewhat njicerr herre, at leasst. Hmm, a few touchess of home."

T'yeellaa led her on, and the crowd parted somewhat to reveal a lanky human casually loitering around an aviary. Rai'faani noted the fixated look of her older sister, and she raised her ears slightly.

"That one? He'ss jyourr bjit of fun?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa nodded, a smile on her face.

"jI ljike hjim."

The K'ohta'rrou could feel the look Ra'ifaani was giving her, and her ears skewed in time with a bit of tooth showing in her grin.

"Whjy not? He'ss tall, jin good sshape, and hass a good ssensse of humorr. We get along."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

That was a lot more than casual, and Rai'fa raised an eyebrow.

"That'ss a bjit morre than cassual cock. jIss he wearrjing jyourr kaa'rri? The moment jyou get off a sstarrsshjip and you hjitch jyourrsself?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa made an absurd face.

"Pfft...no, don't be sstupjid. Who hass tjime forr that? But jit makess ssensse. jI've got mjy carreerr, he'ss got hjiss, and jI doubt ejitherr of uss want to sslow down. But jit'ss not all exotjic ssex, jI don't know. We get each otherr, but we get to go ourr own wajy. jI've had mjy fjill of ssoldjierrss and cabjin bojyss forr a whjile. The pjillow talk jiss good."

[Q. Samus Dage]

It was difficult to miss the arrival of T'yeella and her younger sister on the concourse. Frankly, it was difficult to really miss the younger Meorrrei at all. Dressed in an outfit that would make some go almost cross-eyed at the amount of vibrant color, she was not one to blend into a crowd.

Dage turned to watch the two women approach, his hands once more in his front pockets as he faced them. He smiled a wide smile at T'yeellaa, then in turn to Rai'faani, and ambled forward to meet them halfway.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jYou'rre punctual, gai'tou."

T'yeellaa closed distance, heedless of her accompanying sister as she met Dage for a kiss. Her hands clung up at his shoulders as her tail looped around the small of his back. Lips parted with a smile, the elder Meorrrei daughter kept in Samus' orbit as she turned slightly.

"Ssamuss, thjiss mjy ssjissterr Rai'faani. Rai'faani..."

The K'ohta'rrou patted the human's chest.

"Commanderr Quentjin Ssamuss Dage."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"Ja irra korra'nai."

It occurred to Rai'faani that she had no real inkling as to how these encounters went with forrda lovers. Men with education and actual vocations and titles. An uncertain ear flicked beside a face that was no less polite than before."

"Do jI call jyou Commanderr, orr Quentjin?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

A strange look passed over his features for a moment as his eyes rolled from T'yeellaa to her sister. He considered her question, though he was inwardly dismayed at T'yeellaa's using his first name. He blinked, then finally spoke up while teasingly propping an elbow up on his companion's shoulder and using her as a partial leaning post. Her tail still wrapped around his lower back seemed to lose a touch of its' fluidity at his action, and it cause his grin to return as he put just a small bit more weight on her.

"Well, I'm not in uniform, so you can call me Samus."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

She knew she'd have to pay for using the Q word, and T'yeellaa bore her literal burden with grace and a smile.

"Ssamuss jiss the fjirrsst offjicerr of one of the Alljiance'ss newesst heavjy crrujisserrs - the Kherra'va'sssjio. Qujite a prresstjigjiouss posst."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"Njice." Rai'fa replied with a raised bob of her ears. Honestly, the intricacies of Naval command structures meant about as much to her as the rules of Hutt Ball, which was to say not one bit. What was more perplexing was how their whole interaction worked at all.

"A mutualljy upwarrd-mobjile couple. That doessn't become awkwarrd, doess jit?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Not at all."

Straightening back up, Dage gave T'yeellaa a clap on the shoulder.

"Well, not all the time."

A deep, inhaled breath, and the blonde cast his gaze around them at the plethora of bodies milling about in the relatively early morning hour.

"Now. What say you ladies treat me to breakfast?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"A grreat jidea. jI'm famjisshed."

Which was the easy part. T'yeellaa already knew well enough about Samus' aversion to food that fought back, which meant that the simple act of eating could be almost political in terms of strife and compromise. In one corner, the fussy human eater. In the other corner, her sister who usually preferred a'tiian de'isi and all the mess that came from pulling feathers off phesants.

Maybe there was a compromise to be found.

"jI thjink therre jiss a taa'u nintaai sshop on concourrsse C. Rai'fa, jiss that okajy?"

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Not at all her first choice, but the younger Meorrrei knew that T'yeellaa was trying to keep everyone at least somewhat happy. She gave an indifferent shrug. At least it wasn't cooked.

"That'ss fjine. jI'm onljy a ljittle hungrrjy."

[Q. Samus Dage]

In a show of understanding, Dage shook his head.

"Don't think you have to censor yourselves on my account."

He delivered a light kiss to the top of one of T'yeellaa's ears as he reached an arm around her shoulders to give her a quick squeeze.

"I'm a big boy," he flashed a smile to Rai'faani. "So long as they have bibs and a barf bag, I'll manage well enough."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jYou'll be fjine, gai'tou. Between the two of jyou, the pjickjy one jiss that one rrjight therre."

T'yeellaa jerked a thumb at her younger sibling.

"Therre'ss no wajy jyou'd get herr jinto Djiktat'ss Rroosst."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Rai'faani rolled her eyes.

"jIf jyou'rre gojing to brrjing up that holjidajy on Syragor, jI onljy got ssjick becausse jyou darred me to eat that and jI wass alrreadjy drrunk. Who eatss anjythjing that lookss ljike cleanjing ssuppljiess except forrda."

Just remembering the unpleasantness brought a shiver to her ears and a puff to her tail tuft.

[Q. Samus Dage]

His arm moved to partially wrap around T'yeellaa's waist, and his other lifted in a gesture that indicated they start moving.

"Well then, let's get going, shall we?"

Briefly, he wondered if he should swing through a fast food stall and get something to bring with him into whatever establishment they ended up in.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Of course it was never as simple as that. The couple and the third wheel set off toward Concourse C, but to get there, they had to traverse two full concourse sectors, which meant a good kilometer of foot traffic through a congested temple of capitalism and conspicuous consumption. Foreign and familiar smells came from more convenient food offerings, but what distracted were the clothing merchants. Not T'yeellaa, not hardly. Rai'faani couldn't go fifty paces without pausing at a shoe store or a bespoke leatherworks. At first it was for her own purposes, but she started finding items for T'yeellaa - and even more for Samus. Trrjy thjiss on or Thjiss would look loveljy on jyou orr Doessn't thjiss match Ssamuss' peculjiarr ejye colorr. T'yeellaa's resolve in resisting was beginning to wear down as Rai'faani spree browsed. Occasionally, the K'ohta'rrou resorted to pulling the younger Cizerack along with a tail tug, but as they were nearing the home stretch, T'yeellaa somehow found herself carrying two bags, and most of that was for Samus.

[Q. Samus Dage]

It was as they were stopped at one of the last clothing vendors that Samus pulled aside his companion, out of earshot of the ever-browsing Rai'faani. His hand on T'yeellaa's arm was firm, but not enough to hurt. Angling his head down slightly, the blonde fixed her with a serious gaze as his voice dropped a few levels.

"Forgetting the fact that the storage space in my quarters is extremely limited, I have something a little bit more pressing that you might want to know."

A quick look up to make sure that the younger Meorrrei was still focused on her shopping, and he returned his eyes to T'yeellaa.

"But I don't want you to get... " what was the right word, even?

"... angry. Or upset. Or whatever it is you'll probably end up being."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

This was going relatively well, and T'yeellaa's look at Samus was almost pleading - as if he could hold off the bad news until after breakfast. That look evaporated into a thin-lipped expression and the K'ohta'rrou put a bag-laden hand on her hip.

"Tjypjicalljy jyou sshould drrop bad news afterr a meal, but jI'm a grrown-up, gai'tou. jI can manage."

The weird ghost of a smile he usually wore even when he wasn't cracking a joke was gone, and T'yeellaa's tail flicked nervously.

[Q. Samus Dage]

A moment longer to gauge her features, and Dage fished the dataslip that Taataani had given him from his pocket. He held it up so that T'yeellaa could see it clearly.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

She palmed the dataslip, browsing the contents in Cizeri script.

"Well that djidn't take long."

With an inscrutable expression, T'yeellaa returned the slip to Samus.

"Whjy would jI be mad?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Well, would you care to guess where she put it?"

Another furtive look to make sure that Rai'faani was engaged with whatever bauble had caught her eye. Finally his grin returned, though this time it was a bit crooked.

"I'll give you a hint; it wasn't the in the pocket that I just pulled it from."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

He didn't have to paint the picture much more than that, T'yeellaa had a good idea of how her mother operated.

"Sshe knowss what sshe wantss and ussualljy getss jit."

She looked up at her gai'tou and smiled.

"jI'm happjy that'ss not the casse todajy."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Well. She was taking it much better than he'd thought she would, and Samus blew out a breath from the side of his mouth.

He straightened back up to his full height, and returned the slip to his pocket.

"I did tell her I had a ladyfriend, but I didn't tell her it was you."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa half-grinned at Samus' lack of full disclosure.

"Well that prrobabljy won't sstop herr. Sshe'd jusst ssee that asss confirrmatjion of herr good tasste jin conquesstss."

The K'ohta'rrou's smaller hands found Dage's larger ones and laced fingers between fingers.

"We do thjingss djifferrentljy, jI thjink. Ourr peopless. Forr Cizerack, one man and one woman togetherr arre marrked bjy a kaa'rri. Wjithout that, who makess love to who jiss rrarreljy fussed overr. But what we ssharre jiss morre. jI thjink we'll be defjinjing exactljy what that jiss morre often than prrecedent forr ejitherr of ourr experrjiencess."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Her fingers twined with his was interesting; made even more interesting by the words that she spoke. Whatever it was that they had right now was not exactly what he'd considered. At the beginning he'd been looking for a little bit of fun, and for something outside of his normal routine. But, to her credit, T'yeellaa Meorrrei had suitably taken his interest. For however long this... whatever it was, lasted, he still tended to lean toward fidelity.

He gave her hand a squeeze, and flashed a smile while leaning down to deliver a kiss to her forehead.

"I've only got time for one woman, Kitten."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

One.

The word left T'yeellaa in deep introspection. She glanced up to meet his eyes, but averted down momentarily to his chest. Dage was her one man. Not out of a decision for exclusivity, but because she'd scarcely had enough time for even one. By some miracle they'd aligned free time for several romantic meetings, but who was to say how long that would last?

"Ssamuss, jit won't hurrt mjy feeljingss one bjit jif jyou ssharre anotherr woman'ss bed. Asss long asss jit'ss not motherr'ss."

[Q. Samus Dage]

At that he frowned. She wasn't understanding.

"T'yeellaa," the transition to using her name instead of the normal 'Kitten' was joined with a slightly more serious rumble to his voice.

"I've been around the galaxy for a good amount of time. I've seen a lot and done a lot. Maybe if I was younger and still floating from planet to planet in stolen Imperial freighters, not knowing if I'd make it out of the trenches, I'd consider something like what you're talking about. But I'm not that man anymore. I grew up and got older. I'm no longer in such dire straights or expecting to meet the Maker in the next skirmish."

A quick glance up showed Rai'fa on her way back, yet another bag in hand. 'We'll talk later' was the unspoken look in his eyes as he looked back down to his companion.

And with a clap to T'yeellaa's shoulder, the seriousness of his features melted away into a smile as the younger Meorrrei approached.

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"Herre."

Rai'faani breezily passed off a small paper gift bag to the unexpecting human, giving him a cursory glance as she did so.

"jIthorrjian ssjilk. jI guesssed jyourr ssjize. Rrecejipt'ss jin the bag."

The younger Meorrrei cast a quick, tooth-barbed grin back at her sister before returning her attention to Dage. She raised a slender wrist just below his nose.

"Ssmell thjiss. What do jyou thjink?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa knew that look, and judging by the small size of the bag, she had a good mind to the contents within. She said little, offering instead a thin-lipped smile as she waited for the little maneater to get an appraisal of her chosen scent.

"Kosa, ssjissterr, jyou musst thjink jI'm ssome haplesss Gamorrrean ssow."

[Q. Samus Dage]

With little choice but to do as she asked; not to mention there really was no missing the scent that Rai'fa's wrist had swiftly placed just beneath his nose, Samus gave a sniff. It was a nice smell to be sure.

"Very nice."

Was she hoping for more? He suspected that she was, and after a moment of thought, he complied.

"It compliments you. You'll turn heads for certain."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"Hopefulljy jI'll turrn ssomethjing elsse asss well."

Rai'faani's hand retreated to fall by her side, but not before a brush against Dage's crotch in such a manner that couldn't have been an accident. She paused, considering exactly how turned the Commander truly was, and gave a shrug of disinterest when it wasn't to a sufficient degree. Maybe there was something lost in human olfactory sense.

"Let'ss eat. jI'm gettjing cold ljimp meat one wajy orr anotherr."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa rolled her eyes, tightening her clutch on Dage as the group finished passing through the bazaar.

"jYou'rre gojing to be trruljy horrrjible unlesss jI fjind jyou ssome prrettjy thjing to rrjide, arren't jyou?"

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"The pjicturre of mjisserrjy!"

Rai'faani's tail swished wide, smacking both T'yeellaa and her gai'tou on the back as she buoyed her ears with lascivious meaning.

"jI want one jin unjiforrm. jIt'ss sso queerr, the contrradjictjion."

As she walked, the younger Meorrrei removed a small case from her purse. She opened the abalone-shell container, removing a small, leathery leaf, which she placed in her mouth and began to chew. She paused, stealing a glance up at Dage as her eyes dilated slightly.

"Would jI ssalute hjim? Would jI tearr each button on hjiss unjiforrm off wjith mjy teeth? jIt feelss ljike sscandal."

[Q. Samus Dage]

The brush against his crotch was most certainly unexpected, but to Dage's credit he took it in stride as best he could. And truthfully it wasn't difficult to do. T'yeellaa's suddenly protective grip on him was met with a reassuring squeeze to her own small hand.

But, a question had been asked of him, and the rangy blonde found the younger Meorrrei's eyes on him with curious intent.

"Well, I suppose it depends. For some it's rather bad form to sully and damage a man's uniform."

He gave a shrug.

"Then again, some don't seem to care. The latter are few and far between in my experience, though."

A thought occurred to him, and he turned to look down at T'yeellaa as the three continued on toward Concourse C. It was an unspoken passing along of the duty to answer Rai'fa's question.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa savored the deferred question with a smile.

"jI neverr rrealjized how good a unjiforrm looked untjil jI ssaw a man jin one."

Not as bawdy as Rai'faani was expecting, but an earnest response without having to get into the details of their curious relationship.

"Djifferrent djissh, djifferrent flavorr. jI don't thjink jyou can jusst put a unjiforrm on anjy man and get the effect. Ssamuss knowss how to wearr one. jI don't thjink jit'ss a gatewajy to becomjing a lessbjian jif that'ss what jyou'rre askjing, Rai'fa."

T'yeellaa snorted in a graceless laugh as the trio finally arrived at their destination.

The charm of taa'u nintaai was it's lack of pretentiousness. No warm lighting sconces, no fancy scenery. It was a bar that could seat eight, a few rows of meat hanging from hooks in the ceiling, and a knifer. The knifer at this establishment was a droid, which was a bit of a frown. No shirtless male tirelessly steeling a long blade before shearing off thin morsels on demand. Instead, a spindly IL series droid coolly focused one of it's four visual receptors on the patrons as they arrived, twirling a cleaver deftly as it rotated on it's swivel to return to work.

"Ja irra rrou'ei i arr'sorr. Kaan'o ne taa'u i taas'i?"

At least with a droid, it was easier to change things up. T'yeellaa pulled out a seat for Dage to sit in, placing a hand on the icy-cool counter.

"Sspeak bassjic, drrojid."

The knifer droid paused, a click of it's subprocessors signalling the prompt's acceptance.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. May I have your meat and drink orders, please?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

Dage sat, not exactly sure what to do with the bags he was carrying (at least he didn't have as many in hand as T'yeellaa), and finally settled for placing them on the ground between his feet.

He was in new territory now, and the blonde blew out a bit of a long breath as he looked first at the droid, then to the hanging slabs of meat. It looked edible enough, and he had to restrain himself from looking further behind the counter for some sort of small Iktochi grill hidden away. They did have the option to cook the meat, right?

Leaning back on his seat only slightly, he gave a look to T'yeellaa on his right, then Rai'faani on his left. Then back to T'yeellaa.

"Ladies first," he gestured with one hand over the top of the bar at the droid.

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Rai'fa perched atop her barstool like a songbird, her tail bobbing up and down as she retrieved her ordering holoflimsy. She scrolled through the offerings, tapping a few here and there with a claw tip.

"S'inta tea."

While she worked on picking her selections, the knifer moved down the line, using two of it's appendages to prepare Rai'fa's tea, which was a cool selection of a cloudy concoction with maroon-colored spheres added to it with ice.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa made sure Dage was situated, taking one of the ordering flimsis as she considered her choice of drink.

"Kri'achee."

The droid went to the hot plate to tend to her warmer drink, leaving T'yeellaa some time to offer Dage a little help.

"jYou pjick jyourr chojicess herre and how manjy jyou want. jIf jyou want morre, jyou jusst change the numberr laterr."

The K'ohta'rrou tapped a button at the upper right to open a menu, where she once again changed the Cizeri glyphs to Aurrebesh, revealing to Dage some pretty no-nonsense choices. Kaatho, eopie, kuula, dewback, and a good thirty other selections. Creatures of land, sea, and air, from over a dozen different worlds were on display, both on the menu and beyond the knifer in some state of disassembly.

"He cutss to orrderr, drredgess jit overr a ssalt sslab, and ssome get ssauce wjith jit."

Already, Rai'fa had punched in her first wave of choices, and the knifer worked to sliver away from a skinned kooitoi - a meter-high flightless bird whose long neck and long legs had been removed to easily find space on the rack.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"I'll probably stick with the dewback," came the thoughtful answer as his eyes wandered to menu. "At least to start... "

A pause, and a hand came up, finger pointing to one of the selections as he did his best to pronounce the word.

"Paarri'antou? What's that?"

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"A gjiant ssea ssnajil."

For emphasis, Rai'fa pointed out the flat, bluish-green carcass lying on an opposite counter. She impishly selected it on her menu, then gestured to Dage.

"Mjy frrjiend wantss to trrjy."

The IL droid whurred with acknowledgment, one of his knife-wielding arms moving to the selected cut and expertly portioned off a bite-sized portion. A smaller manipulator arm pinched it up, ran it across a salt block, and laid it in front of the human.

[Q. Samus Dage]

Before he could say otherwise, Rai'faani had made sure to have the simple question magnified to the point that the small slice (arguably unappetizing looking if he were to be honest) was sitting in front of him on a small wooden slab of a plate.

"... thanks?"

Never one to shirk responsibility, the blonde gamely plucked the slice up in two fingers, lifting it up in a show of inspection.

Terrifying.

Then again, he'd once resorted to eating shakka beetles on Malastare during a particularly long bit of fighting that saw the endline of their rations. He could handle this. He hoped.

A quick breath, and the whole thing was lifted up, the dropped into his mouth before his brain could find any other protestation for not eating it. He chewed, eyes narrowing as the texture and taste mingled together. It was certainly not Myomarian homecooking.

Another few chews, and he ordered himself to swallow. A slight gasp, and he reached for the glass of water that the droid had set out before him. Drinking deeply, Dage washed the taste down as best he could. He coughed.

"I'll stick to the dewback, I think."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Sieen'tai, gai'tou. Sieen'tai."

T'yeellaa patted him on the back for his show of fortitude, and ordered up four portions of dewback instead.

"jI hate that one too. jI thjink thejy put that on the menu to sscarre people. Do jyou want ssome caf?"

Just then, T'yeellaa's comm began to beep, and her ears sank at the sound of it. She debated letting the comm go to the mailbox. After all, she had the day off.

[Q. Samus Dage]

Another cough to clear out the morsel he'd just ingested.

"Caf... yes."

Dage nodded at the droid.

T'yeellaa's confirmation to the less-than-stellar taste of the slug was heartening, and he gave her a game-faced wink. At least she was thoughtful enough to try and smooth this experience. It wasn't harrowing, but it was certainly more than he'd bargained for. From her mother to her sister, and now this?

Dage pushed the menu towards her at that point, thinking better of asking any more questions lest it result in another brutal session of tasting courtesy of Rai'fa.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The IL droid dutifully dispensed a steaming dark mug for the human, and a minute later, four servings of dewback arrived. Deep red, almost paper-thin, and artfully arranged in a row with a dark pot of something spicy alongside. T'yeellaa hooked one serving with a claw tip, allowing it to dredge over the surface of the sauce. She paused to allow for two drips, and then held it up for Dage's inspection.

"Thjiss ought to be morre to jyourr ljikjing."

Her comm stopped beeping, and T'yeellaa glanced down. There was a blinking light, indicating a message. So much the better.

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Rai'faani laughed at the visceral display of disapproval from Dage.

"Nobodjy ljikess Paarri'antou. jI don't know anjyone who doess. But jyou djid assk!"

To offer an apology of sort, Rai'fa pinched one of her own portions of fatty pheasant up, offering it to the human. By contrast of the deep red dewback, this looked pinker and more silky, with a creamy stripe of fat on the outside.

"Thjiss one jiss mjy favorrjite. Trrjy."

[Q. Samus Dage]

A sideways glance to T'yeellaa before her turned back to Rai'fa and her peace offering. Reaching out, he took the pheasant gingerly between two fingers.

"This better not kill me," he rumbled good-naturedly.

A second later though, Dage lifted his caf to his lips, sipped, and cleared his throat before sizing up this next challenge. A lingering look, and down the gullet it went. Chewing, the blonde instantly decided that it was much better than the slug, and swallowing he gave a nod of acceptance.

"Much better, yes."

Still though, the dewback looked better than the pheasant, and Samus was fairly ready to try it. Another sip from his caf, and he plucked a paper thin slice up, mimicking T'yeellaa's slight dips into the sauce dish. That too was popped into his mouth. Yes. This was much better.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

TISIPHONE
Vengeful Destroyer




Somewhere in hyperspace...

Blue milk runs were the order of the day. Patrol here. Scan this system. Ferry this official to that planet. Everyone who signed up for service said they did so to ensure a peaceful future. Captain Quez wondered why, then, it was so difficult to cope with the very same peace.

Well not quite. A sham peace. A false peace. Playing fetch on one side of a border knowing that your still-declared enemy was shadowing you on their side. Two snarling nexxu pacing each other, and both too chickenshit to actually snap, so the settled on posture and growling. That kind of peace. Something built on a rotten core, and despite all it's hypocrisy and dysfunction - the best option at hand.

The worst of it all was that this sisyphian philosophy filled the gaps in Cirr's idle thoughts. He couldn't just think of fat dewback shanks or the fastest swoop bikes or why the Goddess caused rain because D cup titties in cotton shirts were designed to make her sons happy. Not even now, when he was trying to actually get six hours of sleep.

An eye cracked open in the dark, and the chrono read 09:26. That would make five hours and fifty-six minutes of "sleep", most of it terrible. By contrast, the soft snore carrying on next to him seemed unshakeable. Lyanie might not wake up if they took a turbolaser hit. Cirr let his eyes adjust to the dark, ambivalent in his jealousy of her good sleep and watching the cute way her lips ticked up as if she were dreaming.

Cirr slid off the bed and reached for his jacket just as the comm pinged. He knew what that meant. Hyperspace terminus in three minutes. Two minutes later, and the sleep-deprived Captain of the Novgorod arrived on the bridge.

[Jaden Luka]

Several thousand years of galactic history, most of it spent under the protection of some iteration of the Republic, Imperial, or Alliance Navy. Eons of advancement, development, and research, countless trillions upon trillions of credits spent; all that expertise, all that trial and error, and yet starship engineers couldn't construct a comfortable chair to save their damn lives.

He had tried everything. He'd perched on the edge. He'd shuffled all the way to the back. He'd carefully positioned his posture. He'd even got up and paced around the bridge a few times, tried sneaking up on the seat, catching it unawares, luring it into a false sense of security. Nothing seemed to work. Nothing seemed to stop the frustrating lumps and bumps from crawling out of the padding after a few moments of sitting, and jabbing their irritating way into his butt cheeks. His only viable solution thus far had been to awkwardly recline to one side, an elbow propping him up, weight distributed to one cheek at a time, allowing the other a few moments of blessed relief to recover. Everything about it was wrong. The seat was too high. The incline of the back was too steep. The arm rests were frankly annoying: it felt far more comfortable to sit there with his hands in his lap, resting in the familiar sense-divots across his thighs where they settled when he was in the cockpit; but he'd earned a few too many odd looks at the way his arms awkwardly shielded his crotch to keep that configuration up. It was insufferable. Even the seat at the helm, behind the controls of this enormous overweight bantha of a ship, was better than this.

As the doorway hissed behind him, signalling the Captain's arrival on the bridge, it sounded to Jaden like a chorus of angels, and he couldn't evacuate the godforsaken chair fast enough. It was all he could do to mumble a quick concession of command before his legs spurred him into motion, a brief low whistle escaping from beneath his tongue to forewarn the helmsman before Jaden ousted them from the driver's seat. As he settled onto the worn and ass-rutted padded foam, he couldn't help the faintest sigh of relief and satisfaction. By comparison, it was as if he was settling down into the delicate hands of a Twi'leki masseuse, as she began to gently caress away the uncomfortable memories from his poor mistreated maximus.

"We're approaching our hyperspace egress, Captain," he announced, already aware of the ship's status, but still taking a moment to familiarise himself with the various displays, just to be sure. "Forty seconds out."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr nodded along, realizing after the fact that a nod did a helmsman not one lick of good when it was pointed at the back of their head. Still, his mouth was otherwise occupied in the rigor of a yawn that the Captain masked as best he could with taut lips and a hand that pretended to scratch an itch. Once the involuntary impulse of the insomniac was dispensed with, Captain Quez was free to gruff to his content.

"Notjify Jovan Statjion of ourr arrjival and rrequest dockjing clearrance."

Again, nothing Cirrsseeto said really needed to be said, but you said it as superfluously and redundantly as possible because that was the Navy Way. The only time you cut the procedural talk short was...

"Thank you."

...when the helmsman-now-relieved did the honorable thing and got you a caf. Acrid, watery, and devoid of any hint of character, aroma, or terroir. Cirrsseeto had been slaved to shitty caf from his days riding shotgun with Sanis, to the point that he'd had a spit-take when introduced to the Real Thing. Blessed be to bad caf.

"Rrjight."

Some of the fog lifting from his torpor, Cirr sat up in his seat a little.

"We've got a ljittle tjime beforre we have to ljight out forr Jaku, so send notjice that a day's leave jis avajilable forr any non-essentjial staff who wants jit."

[Jaden Luka]

Jaden's hands worked their way over the helm controls as Captain Quez issued his orders. The engineers insisted that a Marauder Corvette like this one was as fast as an X-Wing; Tink had been particularly smug about that in fact, and had even made the rookie mistake of badmouthing A-Wings while the Commander was in earshot, something he'd soon come to regret. What everyone always neglected to mention was that a Marauder had the turning circle of a gas giant - or at least that's how it felt when you tried to coax any kind of rapid course correction out of the lumbering beast - and all that talk being fast enough to chase down a snubfighter meant jack all of the pilot was smart enough to do something ridiculously complex and fancy like turning a corner.

Still, flying an overweight bucket of bolts like this was still better than flying a desk, he supposed.

"Aw, man," he muttered at Cirr's last instruction. While the Cizerack had grasped the nuances of navy life with ease, much of the decorum still eluded Jaden. His head and his ass might have been hear on the bridge, but his heart was in the nearest cockpit, waiting for the opportunity to utter an inappropriate quip and piss off the Squadron Leader. Of course, the last few years he'd been the one flying point for the Rogues, and that had hampered his sarcastic efforts somewhat, but still. Point was, he had get to grasp what was appropriate and not appropriate conversation among naval officers at work.

"What about us essential, indispensable staff? Do we get the day off, too?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Unless you thjink we'rre ljiable to swat TjIEs whjile tetherred to a dockjing spjirre, you'rre about as essentjial today as tjits on a bull rrancorr. The only essentjials today arre jin Engjineerrjing, because a 0.003 pulse discorrdance jis only good enough forr someone else's shjip."

Cirr's expression went nearly smug at that. He ran his engineers like whipped mules, but there was a reason Novgorod was the fastest corvette in the fleet.

"Go and rrelax. Get in trrouble. Some trrouble. Don't accept necklaces frrom strrange women. Don't make me bajil you out of a brrjig."

[Jaden Luka]

"Bet baby rancors think they're pretty essential," Jaden muttered quietly, mostly so that his brain didn't have to contemplate what the hell a pulse doodad was. Engineering lingo had a strange dampening effect on his brain, leeching power away from his listening and comprehension systems. That was probably a bad thing, considering the fact that he was the one sitting here pushing the go button on the engines... but if he was supposed to understand this crap, they'd make being a qualified engineer an essential part of pilot training, and thank all the gods in the galaxy that it wasn't so.

A separate, distracting thought about rancors crept into his mind. Were they reptiles? Did they hatch from eggs? He supposed that if that was the case, nipples and mammary glands would be pretty superfluous - that was more of a mammal thing. That said, if they did breastfeed, that'd explain a whole lot: he'd seen the kind of teeth that even tiny rancors were packing - if he had that sucking on his chest several times a day, he'd be murderously pissed off too.

"Dropping out of hyperspace," he announced to the bridge as the counter cycled down to zero, and braced himself as the Novgorod hurtled from blisteringly fast down to it's usual leisurely pace of motion. A brief moment later, and space got it's shit in order, transforming from the swirling blueness into a cascade of stretched-out pinpricks, before settling on being a fairly mundane starfield. This was another thing that made Jaden feel uncomfortable about a ship like this: from a cockpit, exiting hyperspace was spectacular, and space wrapped itself around you like a reassuring blanket; on the Novgorod, space was several feet ahead of him beyond a frustratingly two-dimensional window, and he felt so detached and removed from it that he hardly felt like he was in space at all.

A few instants passed, and a nondescript icon on the nav display resolved into a tiny graphic of Jovan Station, as the IFF software recognised the distant hunk of spinning metal. "Locked on the nav beacon," he reported, his mind continuing it's meandering trajectory through the quagmire of nipple-related thoughts. A half-remembered fragment of secondary biology back home filled his head with visions of kitten liters, swarming around their poor mother, enough nipples available for all. Was that true of Cizerack? Was the Captain packing bonus nipples under that uniform of his? Or was that only a factor if you squeezed out a bajillion babies at once? He half-remembered the Captain once mentioning an abundance of siblings - had his family arrived in bulk, or had his mother just spent a crap-ton of time in sweatpants, with swollen ankles and weird food cravings?

The urge to sigh almost slipped past his defenses; he caught it at the last second, unleashing the breath at a much slower pace through his nose. A twitch of the controls adjusted the ship's orientation to match the plane of the station. "Entering comm range now."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

The slight inertial shift registered in Cirrsseeto's belly in time with the snapping of starstreaks into single points of distant solar radiation. Novgorod purred going in and out of light speed, betraying the greased lightning capacity of her over-ample motivator. Yet despite the testament to efficiency that she represented, Cirrsseeto missed the more guttural quaking Layla made in such changes of speed. Less resources at hand, more love paid by means of a hydrospanner. The aesthetics were ugly and the ride was bumpy, but it was all done with loving intention to squeeze the best out of limited resources. Now, he flew with a comparatively giant budget and an entire staff of engineers to do all the hard work for him. More sex and less romance. Something gained and something lost.

The gap between Cirr's mind and the silence at hand was telling. No time to dwell here. His blue eyes met Lieutenant Nyehet, and the Nautolan comms minder didn't need a vocal cue to open a line.

"Jovan Statjion. Alljiance Corrvette Novgorrod rrequestjing clearrance to apprroach and dock."

[Kes Akiena]

He was on his way out the door of his office, intent in his stride as Commander Kes Akiena swiftly descended the shallow stairwell on a path that would take him to the main access lift of the command hub. He'd dismissed Lieutenant Rahgus only five minutes before, and with a quickness usually reserved for younger men, the redhead had opted to make a sort of haste for the promenade. He'd scheduled an appointment with one of Jovan's barbers, and in an effort to appear marginally punctual, he had decided that it would be best to take care of his normal monthly cut as soon as possible. There was a bit of nervousness, as the Rodian he'd usually gone to on Dac was of course not here on Jovan. It would be new territory.

So it stood to reason, that Mr. Ek'ette would flag him down.

"Novgorod in from Hyperspace, Commander... "

Kes expelled a minimal sigh as his forward momentum was arrested, and he turned about on his heel in an almost-flourish.

"Are they, now."

"Yes Sir. They're requesting clearance for approach and a docking pylon."

It was truly almost a perfect storm, if he had to wager. So far this day he'd met with Admiral Tyree, brushed knuckles with Samus, and taken Lt. Rahgus' preliminary report for Khera'Va'ss'io. He'd only just been able to fit a haircut into his already busy morning. And with Novgorod coming in, it only made his day that much busier.

Then again, what else was he expecting from his posting?

A trip to some backwater with nothing but birds and early morning sunrises would certainly be nice...

Kes cleared his throat.

"Direct them to pylon 8, Mr. Ek'ette."

"Yes Sir."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

The docking clearance was granted, and the harbormaster laid in the approach vector. It was all plug and play from here on, no-doubt frustrating Jaden, who would probably prefer the trip to involve a few barrel rolls and a segnor's loop. Now it was Captain Quez's turn to feel as useful as the proverbial tits on a bull rancor, as all he had to do was warm his seat. In a tweak of decorum, he again pulled out his personal comm, keying in the previously sent frequency.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Breakfast passed pretty agreeably for the two Cizerack and the human. Enough caf and tea was dispensed to remove the morning fog from everyone's minds, and T'yeellaa plied her gai'tou with more agreeable breakfast offerings. Rai even joined along in the fun, needling the two of them over how they'd met and just when she might expect to see T'yeellaa's kaa'rri around his neck. T'yeellaa only rolled her eyes at that. Once sated, the K'ohta'rrou covered the bill for all three, and they moved on to other adventures, shopping bags in tow.

When T'yeellaa's comm pinged again, she took the time to actually look at the sending frequency. She paused mid-stride, flagging behind Rai'faani and Samus by a few paces.

"Arr'uhai?"

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Rai'faani was laughing at one of Samus' jokes, her hand at his shoulder kneading the human a bit as she looked back at T'yeellaa's word. Her ears skewed, and she too paused.

"Whjich one?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

Rai'fa's hand on his shoulder was gently removed, and Dage gave T'yeellaa a questioning look. There was no concern in his eyes... yet.

Surely it wasn't another family member? So far this day had been nothing but Meorrrei women. And with the younger Rai'faani constantly trying to remain in his orbit, the blonde was wishing more and more that he could simply take T'yeellaa by the hand, march her back to his quarters on the Khera, and lock the door.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jIt'ss Cirrsseeto."

T'yeellaa still hung back, turning her comm over in her hand. Cirrsseeto the Hero. Some larger-than-life person who had somehow replaced her little brother. After a few seconds of consideration, she replaced the comm on her belt, and caught up to her sister and gai'tou.

"Wherre elsse, ne?" She put on a happier face. "jI hearr Madam Maillanarro putss on a sspectacularr tea."

Hopefully that little tidbit would rid them temporarily of Rai'faani.

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"Ahh, Cirrsseeto, jI haven't sseen hjim jin jyearrss!"

Rai'faa didn't even mind the displacement from Dage, and fully turned to T'yeellaa only to have her smile diminish by degrees.

"jYou'rre not gojing to ansswerr hjim?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

A single eyebrow rose at the mention of Captain Quez' name; he'd never met Captain Quez personally, but he'd come to fight alongside the man over Ossus.

Dage punctuated Rai'faani's words with a questioning look of his own.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

She didn't want to. She'd rather talk to mother. Whatever Cirrsseeto had done felt like betrayal to her. Worse, it wasn't even anything she could bring him to account over without sounding like some kind of insensitive monster. Decorated war hero. Lost a leg in the line of duty. He'd gone from a runny-nosed kid needing his big sister to someone who by seeming-happenstance had eclipsed her career ambitions and outmatched every ounce of worth she had. And he'd done it with mother's blessing. Salt in the wound.

And with all of that, she couldn't say no. She was trapped by family and niceties and too many ties. Things were so much simpler when she had her own ship.

The comm was still beeping. T'yeellaa raised it to her lips, and hit the audio input.

"Arr'uhai."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

T'yeellaa's voice came on the line like a sudden fork of lightning, and Cirr's ear's buoyed at once. He barely had the wherewithal to temporarily mute the line as he bolted for his seat to leave the bridge.

"Mjisterr Luka you have the conn..."

Cirr bolted before his second played twenty questions, pausing just outside the door of the bridge.

"Cirrsseeto?" the line queried in a tinny recreation of his older sister's voice. Captain Quez thumbed off the mute toggle.

"Rrou'ehi" there was something earnest and hopeful in his tone. Cirr leaned against the wall, staring into the vox as if she were in there somewhere.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

It was him. Older, certainly. But there was something so hopelessly boyish to his voice, at least to her. T'yeellaa tried to picture it fitting the perpetual three year old of her mind's eye. She couldn't quite put him back together.

Worse yet, what did she say now? Hello? How have you been? So how's married life - again? To a human? Do I call you Captain? T'yeellaa looked at Rai'faani's cheerful face, and she just couldn't. Not right now. She turned away from her and from Samus, taking a few paces away to herself.

"How arre you?"

Desperate to fill the awkward silence, it was the best she could do.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"E naat'sua tauaannee cho'ikaa taa so." so the saying went. She laughed. It sounded forced. So was his line.

"jI'm good. Actually betterr than good. jI'm herre at yourr statjion actually. We'rre pjickjing up Admjirral Tyrree."

Cirr shuffled on his feet, wetting his lips with a pressed tongue. He coughed out nerves politely away from the mic.

"jI have a day beforre we ljight out. Fjigurred we could..."

Captain Quez awkwardly tugged on an ear as he tried to make his words work. It never used to be this hard. She was always the one he could talk to first. His big sister. His protector.

"jI just wanna see you."

And get a hug. Cirr winced. He couldn't say what he wanted to say.

"jI mjiss you. Mjiss talkjing. We have so much..."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

...to talk about? Like commanding ships?

T'yeellaa could feel her ears pinning back. Could feel the anger boiling, tracing down her tail like a live wire. Indiscriminate, mean anger. Cruel emotion that didn't care who it wanted to hurt probably deserved it the least. Goddess-dammit!

"jI can't." She bit through in terse tone, hating herself for it. "jI'm, jit'ss compljicated. The sstatjion, we'rre sstjill plajyjing catch-up wjith rretrrofjitss and sstaffjing and the Commanderr hass me rrunnjing rragged."

Her oily, wicked lies. T'yeellaa screwed her eyes shut.

"Motherr'ss herre, jyou know."

And the cruelty. The implication. She loves you more anyway.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Oh."

He blinked as his ears fell a measure. Cirr nodded along as if he was convincing himself of the lie.

"Well jI know how that goes."

Still nodding to convince, the Captain looked for the best way to salvage vulnerability.

"Kosa, jI've barrely gotten fjive hourrs of sleep myself."

His tone was all smiles, and it didn't match his face.

"Guess jit's bad tjimjing then. That happens. Maybe laterr then?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Maybe laterr then?

The boyish upspeak was there, just barely. She knew she'd hurt him, and that he didn't really believe her. And she had no idea how to fix it.

Maybe?
Yeah, sure thing.
Definitely.

She'd lost her stomach for the lies. Even the half ones.

"jI have to go now."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"T'yeellaa, jI..."

The line clicked dead. The Captain wrapped his big hand fully over the vox, forming a fist as he softly beat the back of his head against the wall. The words just didn't come out right.

Cirrsseeto sighed the life out of him, and drew in breath anew. He didn't have time to feel this way.

[Q. Samus Dage]

He'd watched; watched her ears pin back, watched her shoulders tense. He'd seen the stance she cut, and knew it well. Maybe not in the same exact circumstances, but Samus Dage was no stranger to what he saw. He blinked, frowning as he stepped forward.

A hand fell gently upon her shoulder. He didn't try to turn her around, he simply let her know that he was there.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa felt the warm embrace on her shoulder. She didn't flinch from it. She'd grown accustomed to Samus in her orbit. It was strange how she relied on that touch now. Her hand reached up to wrap fingers around his.

Everything inside her was screaming. She'd made an awful mistake.

"jI need to go."

T'yeellaa pulled his hand off her shoulder gently. She pulled away from Samus, keeping him tethered by the hand for a step further so she could turn to face him with ambivalent expression, somewhere between I need you, but I have to go, and I don't want you coming after me.

Her fingers separated, and she pushed through the concourse scrum.

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"Rrou'ehi?"

Rai'faani was expecting T'y to pass the vox, or at least chat about her chat with their brother. The look on her face was pained, and Rai'fa quickened her pace to move past Samus.

"T'yeellaa? What'ss wrrong?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

The look on her face was one that he knew all too well also, and with a tightening of his features, Samus made a worried, but trusting face as he watched her leave. Their morning had become something else entirely, and while it was concerning, the blonde knew how it best to abide by T'yeellaa's wishes. If their roles were reversed, he knew that he would be much the same.

Rai'faani's move to step past him after her sister was arrested with a strong hand around her arm.

"No."

His grip was firm.

"Let her be."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

The younger Meorrrei flashed a petulant look up at T'yeellaa's human plaything. Her denial was out in front at this point. They may have had a connection (whatever that was) and were living la vai dai'ou but she wasn't about to let him counsel her on family matters. She shook out of his grasp with effort, but didn't bother trying to get by the human.

"And jusst what do jyou know? Huh?"

Rai'faani began to bite at a fingernail, her tail switching nervously.

"Ssomethjing jiss wrrong. Everrjythjing ussed to be ssjimple."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"I know enough," he grunted after a moment of thought.

There was no reason to lay bare any sort of background experiences with Rai'faani, but the girl certainly did make a succinct observation that was impossible to ignore.

"Simple has a way of growing into anything but."

His eyes tracked back up to stare in the direction that T'yeella had disappeared. A long sigh, and his hands stuffed themselves into the front pockets of his pants.

"Whatever is wrong with your sister, she needs to figure it out first. Helping someone who might not be ready for your help can sometimes be the worst thing to do."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Her mouth was open with a quick retort, but it evaporated into nothing in her throat. Only a pitiful sigh. Then a laugh. The sort of half-resigned sort that acknowledged she let the chips fall and wasn't about to pick them up.

"Thejy werre rrealljy closse. jI mean, we all arre, but jI rrememberr T'yeellaa sstjickjing up forr Cirrsseeto ljike sshe wass on a mjisssjion. jI thjink sshe thought the worrld would hurrt hjim jif sshe djidn't. He wass rrealljy sshjy. Thejy'rre not ssuppossed to be sshjy."

[Q. Samus Dage]

His gaze moved back do to her.

For his own part, Dage had no sibling; he'd been an only child. The only people he'd considered close enough to be brothers were now both dead.

"What happened?"

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

"Cirrsseeto happened."

Rai's ears swayed up and down with a sigh, her brow knitting a little as she tried to figure out just where on that particular ball of yarn the loose thread lay.

"Motherr arrranged hjiss weddjing to a powerrful Barronesss sshe wanted to courrt favorr wjith. jIt wass a djissassterr. Cirrsseeto ssufferred becausse of jit."

The young Meorrrei girl glanced down to her feet and up again.

"jI djidn't thjink about jit then, but jI thjink T'yeellaa rrealljy hated motherr forr that. Jusst anotherr rreasson. And then when motherr rrealjized sshe had made a mjisstake..."

Did Samus really have any inkling what abyss he was dipping his toes into? Did T'yeellaa have any intention of showing him how deep it went?

"Ourr motherr jiss powerrful. And vengeful. jYou'rre jin the mjiljitarrjy, ne? jYou've kjilled beforre?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

Now that wasn't exactly the sort of question he'd been expecting out of the younger Meorrei, and Dage blinked away the mild shock.

He shifted his stance so that a good portion of his weight rested on one leg.

"I was fighting the Empire back when we were still in trenches. So yes, I've killed."

More than I'd like to have.

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

Rai hesitated, seeing the change in Samus' demeanor. That was probably a question she should have avoided, but he'd chipped away at the cracks in the dam that both she and T'yeellaa knew all too well and no one was safe. The younger Meorrrei's mouth was dry. She reached in her purse, clutching at her little leaf box.

"jI doubt motherr hass."

She paused, as if considering her words. Her eyes narrowed in thought and she nodded as if to affirm herself.

"jI doubt jit. But sshe knowss how to desstrrojy them. Goddesss, sshe doess. jIt'ss herr bloodssporrt. Herr gjift. Sshe desstrrojyed that entjirre housse, and nearrljy Cirrsseeto wjith jit. He'ss got a betterr hearrt than we desserrve, and he forrgave herr forr jit."

Rai'faani opened her leaf box, twirling another leathery bit of jeeta between two fingers.

"And forr what? To be thrrown to the galactjic wjind. And ssomehow he doess well forr hjimsself, and motherr hass the audacjitjy to boasst of hjiss accompljisshmentss ljike thejy'rre herr own."

She placed the leaf of jeeta in her mouth, and began to chew.

"Sso jyou assk me what happened. Cirrsseeto looked up to T'yeellaa like no one elsse, and no one elsse hass ssufferred qujite ljike mjy brrotherr. And he ejitherr doessn't rrealjize jit, orr he'ss jusst carrjyjing jit along untjil one dajy jit kjillss hjim. How cheerrful."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Cheerful indeed. He'd known many men like that; always giving, never asking. Always ready to provide what they could even if it was the shirts off their backs. In the end, most of them had died. Whether in battle or simply crushed by the weight of too much charity. There was nothing wrong with it, but if a person didn't take a moment to be selfish they were destined for a premature trip to the grave. The unlucky ones had to watch the galaxy pass them by as they themselves wasted away into nothing.

Dage let out a breath from between his teeth.

"I've never met your brother face to face," he started, "... but I've heard stories about him from Captain s'Ilancy, and I did fight at his side over Ossus.

"He's a good man."

The seriousness in his voice stayed however, as he met Rai'faani's eyes.

"But I've seen good men run themselves into the arms of the Reaper just by giving too much to everyone but themselves."

[Rai'faani Meorrrei]

As accurate a summation as she could have given. And a depressing one. Rai'faani continued to chew at her jeeta, kneading away it's euphoric sap to offset her persistent cynical ennui.

"Loveljy. Well, now that jI'm concerrned about the trragjic downfall of mjy famjiljy jI'm ssurrprrjissjingljy no longerr horrnjy. A pjitjy. jI don't ssupposse mjy darrljing ssjissterr hass gjiven jyou herr rroom clearrance sso jI can leave thesse bagss jin herr quarrterrss?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

He watched with a small bit of curiosity as she chewed the leaf, but it was a careful curiosity.

A last look to the crowds around them, and the rangy blonde gave a slow nod. Which, with such a small act, seemed to earn him most of the load as Rai'faani handed over each bag. There were more than he'd originally thought, and both hands had to come out of his pockets to hold them all.

Blinking, Dage gave a sideways tilt of his head, his eyes looking in the direction they'd need to start moving.

"Come on, then."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

On the other side of the habitation section

Was it serendipity or a distraction? Maybe both in some way. Senator Meorrrei had worked out the identity of another high-profile person aboard her daughter's space station. With the notion of confronting T'yeellaa postponed due to some manufactured reason, Taataani instead sought out a challenge of a different sort. One that didn't bear the portent of delivering bad news she hadn't quite figured out how to address.

A pity there were no proper humidors on Jovan. Taataani knew well enough to never arrive empty handed to a social engagement, no matter how private it may be. Unfortunately, there simply wasn't a cigar worthy of selection on the entire space station. She wasn't even certain if he'd taken a shine to the one's she'd originally gifted to him, but Admiral Tyree had taste in whisky. It would fit the man so well to make an afficionado of him. The whisky was an artful guess. Stewjon Highland Single Malt. Some guttural gibberish name no decent tongue out to try and pronounce. The shop owner tried, and she wore the result. Suffice to say she didn't pay full price and had the good fortune to sample from another bottle ahead of time. It was smoky and coarse and almost climbed out of the glass without a spot of water to keep it in place. Her tastes tended more to the subtle and sublime of Lantillian Extra Reserve, but this wasn't about her. She knew her audience well. It was an expensive way to cajole a conversation in passing and perhaps more, but Taataani had an eye for appraisal. There were many eyes that would pass over Vansen Tyree without a pause. Not hers.

She pressed the chime to his door.

[Vansen Tyree]

Vansen let out a grunt, and then blinked, glancing around himself in mild confusion. The surroundings were unfamiliar. This wasn't his desk, wasn't his office; wasn't his quarters, even. It took a moment of memory and a glance down at the datapad that had fallen to rest against his chest to recall the events of the last forty-eight hours. He'd arrived on Jovan Station under the auspices of an inspection by the Alliance Navy's point man for Joint Operations, but in reality it had been a mix of curiosity and the frustrated desire to escape from Bothawui for a few days that had carried him here. There was very little about being an Admiral that he actually enjoyed: being a Captain for the last several decades had been bad enough, but at least he'd grown accustomed to being on a bridge instead of a cockpit; he hoped desperately that the endless meetings and bickering would never become comfortable or familiar to him. Maneuvering and strategy were second nature to him, but the political battlefield was not something he wanted to become a veteran of.

His Admiral stars did at least grant some small benefits though, and Vansen exploited the opportunity to use "inspections" as a code word to facilitate his desire to see things in person, stick his nose in, and meddle. As far as Jovan Station was concerned, he had no particular desire to interfere in Kes Akiena's command; but it was one thing to read the reports about the teething difficulties and myriad obstacles that the Station faced, and another entirely to witness it for yourself. This was an effort that Vansen believed in strongly: not just a strong border outpost, but a haven for cooperation between the races; though having a substantial staging point so close to Imperial Space was not an insignificant advantage either. It was difficult though, to stand there and fight Jovan's corner against the bureaucrats and politicians of Bothawui, when everything about it was just names on a page. He had to be here; had to witness it with his own eye, feel it's decks beneath his boots. Just being here in person, even if only for a day or two, had made the station real.

Alas, fleeing Bothawui did not allow him to evade his responsibilities entirely. From the look of things he'd fallen asleep reading deployment reports and funding reviews, again. He rubbed a hand across the empty socket where an eye had once been, his eyepatch discarded on the desk in front of him to spare his skull from having to wear it any longer than necessary. It took a moment to comprehend what it was that had roused him from his administrative slumber; a chime from the door.

"Hang on," he grunted, stiffly pushing the chair out from the desk and heaving his aching bones to standing. He glanced at the uniform jacket hanging on the back of the chair, before uttering a "Bah," and waving his hand at it dismissively. If someone wanted to come pester him, they'd just have to tolerate finding him half out of uniform. He did at least snag the eyepatch as he passed; with a stifled yawn and a scratch at the layered undershirts over his chest, he jabbed a finger to release the locking mechanism on the door, and began to settle his eyepatch back into place.

Surprise crossed his features as he instantly recognised the figure waiting for him beyond the threshold. "Sen-" He caught himself, waiting a beat before making the correction that Senator Meorrrei would insist upon. "Taataani."

Suddenly, Vansen found himself very self-conscious about the uniform jacket he'd neglected. Taataani was not like other Senators, thank the gods, and his respect for her was personal and earned, rather than merely inherited by her title. Never the less, respect it was, and Vansen was too unsure of how the Senator defined their relationship to feel entirely comfortable not having made himself presentable for her. The invitation to call her by her first name was one thing, but Taataani Meorrrei was a shrewd politician almost without equal: how much this was genuine fondness and friendship, and how much was just softening the resolve of a potentially useful political asset, Vansen wasn't entirely sure.

"I had no idea you were on the station," he apologized, stepping back from the doorway and gesturing to invite her inside rather than leave her loitering in the corridor any longer. "I would have met you at the airlock if I'd known you were arriving."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"Vanssen."

She served up Tyree's familiar name with honey. He seemed to be a man who guarded it zealously as she did with her own name. Dispensing with titles and families brought a prosaic intimacy to the nature of their rapport. Had she slipped past his armor? Taataani's blue eyes drifted to his unadorned chest for the briefest moment, returning to his unexpecting face. Without bars on his chest, he felt so vulnerable. So assuredly masculine.

True to his masculinity, Vansen turned to self-flagellation, dressing down his lack of foresight and dereliction of gentlemanly virtue. The Senator stayed him with a hand, even as he invited her into his parlor.

"jI'm cerrtajin jyou would. Parrdon mjy crrueltjy jin denjyjing uss the mutual pleassurre. Ljivjing on a worrld of sspjiess hass gjiven me a perrverrsse affjinjitjy forr the clandesstjine, and mjy jinvjisjibjiljitjy wass jintentjional."

Taataani's ears buoyed by the smallest of degrees as her eyes brightened. She eased the bottle of whisky onto the Admiral's desk, lest it form an unnecessary barrier between them.

"Untjil jI ssaw the guesst ljisst, that jiss."

[Vansen Tyree]

There were two kinds of politician, Vansen had decided: there was the bad kind, and then there was the kind that brought you whiskey.

Thus far, Taataani was the only Alliance politician who had managed to earn her way into that prestigious second category, and Vansen was under no illusions that her gifts came without ulterior motives, but there was something strangely comfortable and noble about the arrangement, like some unspoken political tradition that he had stumbled into the middle of. Most of the Alliance Senators approached him with demands. Those that didn't approached him seeking a compromise, a favour exchanged for a favour. It was an ugly business, and Vansen resented it: duty was duty, the right thing to do was the right thing to do, and any bickering over the specifics grated on his nerves. This though? The way that Taataani Meorrrei approached their interactions with sugar and a smile? Neither were under any illusions that their business was usually a political transaction; and yet they found no need to be abrupt about it, no need to make a battle out of something that could just as easily be pleasant and amicable.

Then again, from the way that Taataani presented it, this was merely a social visit: there was no agenda directly at play here. Granted, remaining in Vansen's good graces was no doubt the political equivalent of store credit; but it was nice. It was nice to be treated as a facilitator rather than an obstacle. It was nice to be addressed as a friend and not an adversary.

Or perhaps Vansen was simply a lonely, weary old man, and a pleasant conversation with an amiable woman helped him to forget that from time to time.

"Well perhaps next time, we should coordinate our schedules a little better," he found himself saying, as surprised to hear the words coming out of his mouth as anyone else might have been. There was something strange too, something about the permanent scowl that seemed to have lifted a little, something around the wrinkles of his remaining eye that took on a rare scrunch that had nothing to do with scowling. "It's a long voyage from Bothawui, and my droid makes for terrible company."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"Then next tjime, we can leave jyourr drrojid wjith the sspjy the Hjigh Motherr ssent asss mjy bodjyguarrd."

This was nice, she'd concluded as her smile showed the white of her teeth. He had charm. Not in the salon sense of the word like courtesans knew. Charm in candor. He probably didn't say all he meant, as only a fool did. But he said enough. Enough to allow Taataani license to put away the unpleasant reasons she'd come to Jovan. It was delusion, but for once, the Rrou'fai wished to be deluded. For a few hours at least.

The Senator tended to the dispensing of her gift, finding serviceable glassware in a utility hutch. A measure of water in each glass from an available carafe sealed the ritual, and she offered a glass to Vansen, opting to watch him in it's reception rather than immediately tending to her own refreshment. As her hand retreated from his glass, she couldn't help but brush against his common shirt, a trapping not intended for others to see.

"jI don't jimagjine manjy have the forrtune to ssee the man wjithout the jacket. When the Admjirral becomess Vanssen. Do jyou hang jyourr burrdenss on the rrack wjith jit?"

[Vansen Tyree]

The Cizerack were a tactile people. That was the way that Vansen rationalised it - the surprisingly common moments when the Senator accidentally brushed contact against him. It was a felinoid thing, some subconscious way of marking territory or putting others in their proper place, some inescapable subconscious aspect of her society that the Senator simply couldn't avoid. Here though, now, something felt different. Gone was the pretense of formality, the obscuring mist of objectives and goals, replaced in entirety by small talk and friendly conversation. If there was no mission statement that inspired Taataani's feline efforts to assert her dominance, then what exactly was her objective in doing so now?

Vansen was glad of the drink that she placed in his hands, but even that was something he began to question now. Was it some gift for him that she had obtained on the station after learning he was here? Was it merely the first item grabbed from an abundantly stocked bar on her private yacht? Or was it a gift intended for him all along, that she had been carrying with her far in advance of a likely opportunity to see him? It certainly fit his tastes, he discovered, as he let a sip flow back across his tongue and warm it's way down his throat: a satisfying smokey roughness to it, the elegant roasted high notes you would expect from something distilled on Alderaan or Rendili, rather than the cloying sweetness of the lowest common denominator swill that Corellia churned out. It was a whiskey that tasted the way that he felt: a little rough at the edges, a little gruff and abrupt, but mellow and patient once you got past the initial taste, with a flavour that endured far longer than anyone would reasonably expect until it finally faded away into the background. What was this gift, then? What meaning should he infer?

Still wrestling with those thoughts, he let out a single note of laughter in response to Taataani's question. "My burdens are woven into my bones. At best, all hanging up the jacket does is discourage people from arriving to burden me with more." He mustered a small smile: an effort that he rarely went to for anyone, let alone a politician. "I could probably stand to learn a thing or two from you. You seem far better at remembering to enjoy the finer things in life than I am."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

A claw tip clinked against the rim of her glass, marking time. Conversation, good conversation, moved to it. A waltz. Three quarter time, each beat in microcosm stunted and succinct, naked without the words that followed to sweep them up in motion.

"jI wass borrn jinto fjinerrjy, asss wass mjy motherr and herr motherr beforre. jIf jI djidn't pausse to enjojy ssome of jit, jit would feel too much ljike mannjing the rramparrtss. Majintajinjing the Empjirre."

The metaphor may well have accompanied the whisky. Jarring. Imposing. He'd given her a measure of his vulnerability and she reciprocated, even if the ability to relate had to be as cultivated as an affinity for Stewjon spirit. Heavy may be the head that wore the crown, but who had the stomach for sympathies for the rich? Taataani's hand guided Vansen's shoulder to turn as she did, regarding the viewport that peered into unbroken deep space. No planet to frame the scenery. A cosmic abyss. Only now at the threshold of that expanse did Taataani drink.

"jI can apprrecjiate the need to put burrdenss on hold, no matterr what rrjitual that entajilss. Bessjidess, we'rre both too jyoung to rretjirre. jIt would be a sspecjiess of rretrreat. Sso jinsstead, we absscond to thjiss unljikeljy place."

The Senator traded her view of space for a stolen look at him. A chance to read his unique face like prophetic tea leaves in her cup.

"jIss therre a Mrrss. Tjyrree wajitjing forr jyou out therre?"

[Vansen Tyree]

It wasn't an unreasonable question, it wasn't uncommon, or rare, or unnecessarily prying; yet no matter how many times Vansen found himself caught off guard by such an inquiry, he never seemed to have an answer prepared. He never seemed to be braced against it. His thoughts strayed to her, and every time it was like a knife to the chest, a claw to the gut; like finding out all over again.

Vansen's glass lowered, no longer held to drink but simply just held, resting idle beside him as he began to contemplate the twin abyss that Taataani had presented him with: the infinity of space beneath his gaze; and the infinity of sorrow beneath his perpetual scowl.

"There used to be," he replied quietly. There was a time when such a thought would have made him drain his glass in a single swig; drain a whole bottle in just a few more. He'd learned that the alcohol didn't help: it didn't numb the pain, and the ache persisted regardless. "I allowed my career to come between us, and by the time I realised the gravity of that mistake, it was too late. She was already gone."

He grunted out a bitter laugh. "It's ironic really. She used to call herself a Star Destroyer widow. Thought the Empire was going to get me killed."

An aching silence fell as he stared off into the eternal night of space. "I was never supposed to find out how it would feel to live on without her."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

In her zeal, she had opened a wound. A wound that she knew from experience never really healed to begin with. Undone with a word, open and bleeding in some share of it's original anguish. Vansen's revelation demanded emotional context to deal with, and as the Senator turned inward to find it, she re-opened her own wound in self-inflicted carelessness. Taurrifar's reassurances and pleas in the cold. His absence in every unspeakable way. The pain wasn't there in seeing his body on the funeral pyre. It was in little moments. When she'd turn around in a room, expecting him to be a step away. Waking up in the middle of the night with something she wanted to tell him. The vacuum created by Taurrifar's absence in her life hadn't been filled. There was no equilibrium. The wound might close for a while, but it never healed.

"jIt wass a fooljissh thjing forr me to assk." she averted her face, feigning interest in some bland piece of art that hung in the dignitary quarters. Taataani took her measure of whisky by half, no longer interested in it's nuance. The smoke took her without ceasing. A pyre's smoke.

The very thought of I'm sorry banished from her mind. She'd heard it before.

Why had she come here? It wasn't about the power or the politics. Vansen Tyree could be enthralled to her orbit without effort if it were only that. Taataani needed something else that she'd not quite understood, and if she didn't do right in this moment, she might never get. Moving her glass into her right hand, she watched for the moment that he did the same to his left.

She reached to take his hand. To lend her presence to him in a way beyond I'm sorry. Not in the manner in which she needed, but maybe in the way he did.

[Vansen Tyree]

Vansen's hand evaded Taataani's, but not out of a desire to avoid the contact. Instead it sought out different terrain, a fleeting brush against her cheek to ensure that her gaze focused on his, before his hand settled into place against her upper arm. He was gentle, and yet the contact was resolute and determined, sure enough to prove that it wasn't some accidental thing. He could feel the painful empathy that radiated from Taataani. He knew the look of someone who could relate all too well to his sadness.

"It was not," Vansen countered gently. The small smile that tugged almost imperceptibly against his lips wasn't a reflex, nor anything to do with happiness: it was all about effort, all about going to the lengths of an expression he seldom used, for the sake of someone who deserved such effort. "You dd not know," he continued, the faintest of shrugs rolling off his shoulders. "What use do I have for a friend who does not know me?"

He let silence fall for a moment, but only for a moment. If it lasted any longer, the two of them would stand in silence with their private sorrows, and never speak to each other again. "She was never happy about me joining the Imperial Navy after the Clone Wars ended. A Star Destroyer is no place for a family, and that was something that she wanted and that I just wasn't ready to provide. I had a duty to perform. I was so proud of my Captain's bars, and I let that pride come between us. We tried to make it work, but I was away too long and too often. We separated amicably but... not willingly. Not on my part."

It was strange, how easy this was to say. For so long his pain had powered deflector shields, his scowl the Starkiller deterrent that discouraged anyone from trying to get too friendly; from trying to get to know him too well. But Taataani? By all accounts, she was the sort of person he should have been able to relate to the least, and been the least comfortable around. Yet here they were.

"When I retired, we found each other again. I thought perhaps I could undo two decades of mistakes, and finally have the happiness that I had denied the both of us. Instead, all I was able to do was care for her as she slowly deteriorated. Incurable sickness. Nothing anyone could have done. All those years of doing what I thought was right, and in the end I neglected the only duty that should have mattered."

"And this?" His eye gestured upwards, indicating not just the station, but the Alliance as a whole; his new duty; his new life. "Everyone assumes that an old dog like me must have some noble reason for fighting the Empire, but I don't. I was sad, I was angry, and I was alone. A Captain was all I knew how to be, and I wanted to hurt the Empire where I'd wasted the years that I should have spent with my wife."

His gaze fell, a shrinking hunch creeping into his shoulders, the weight of it all pressing down on his weary frame. "To be honest, this Treaty has me terrified. If we ever achieve a lasting peace, if we ever restore the Republic to the way it was before... I'm not sure I am capable of being the kind of man that belongs in a world like that."

[Taataani Meorrrei]

What use do I have for a friend who does not know me?

There was something terrifying in his earnest words. Vansen had let the cantankerous facade slip, and revealed the thoughtful and vulnerable within to her. Not just the pain of his mate's parting and passing, but the self-inflicted wounds of pride. And here she was, this brute of a creature still a slave to the sort of imperious certainty only pride could create. What could she give to him? Taataani knew well how to be warm and how to love. But it was the cold terror of letting others see you bleed that Taataani feared most. Ben Merasska had seen it, and the glimpse of vulnerability had given him casus belli to flee from all her splendor and graces. He'd glimpsed the solitary thread in the tapestry, and knew it would come loose if pulled.

She'd come to Vansen to have him close to her, and to find brief shelter from her fears. While he was now closer to her than ever, Taataani realized she hadn't escaped the dread. She was going to have to confront it.

"jI am a veterran of peace, Vanssen. jYou'rre rrjight to be worrrjied."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Cirrsseeto!"

T'yeellaa hadn't stopped to think. She'd ran all the way from the concourse to the lifts, and to the outer ring access to Spire H's junction. The umbilical had extended fully to support the smaller frame of her brother's ship, the Novgorod. She'd scarcely given it a glance out the viewport as she finally slowed to a halt. Only now did she realize she didn't exactly know where to begin with her little arr'uhai when he wasn't little anymore, and was something so lofty and unapproachable.

She watched him at the airlock tending to his baggage as he spoke to a junior officer. His eyes turned up to meet.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

The cargo manifest was forgotten the moment he heard her voice. Captain Quez looked up at his older rrou'ehi. The jacket of her uniform had gotten heavier since he'd last seen it, weighed down with rank and accolade, but she looked like she'd barely changed otherwise.

Cirrsseeto eased the datapad back to the warrant officer, excusing himself with a slight nod. He closed the distance slowly, betraying his initial desire to sweep her up in a hug. The same barriers existed that came through in the tinny vocal recrations of the voxcomm. He wasn't the same person he'd been when he left home, and try as he might, he may not be able to put all the good things back in place without the bad.


"jI've mjissed you, sjisterr."

He reached for her hand. It was less than the full embrace he wanted, but it was a place to start. T'yeellaa too reached out, and for the first time in fifteen years, he was reunited.

Just as the world around him fell apart.

Cirrsseeto's ears barely registered the explosion behind him that sheared the docking umbilical at nearly the airlock periphery. He only heard the gale-force howl as the vacuum roared to devour everything it could in a moment. Beyond, every stick of cargo and every crewman standing at the periphery were sucked into space. Cirrsseeto and T'yeellaa were thrown from their feet, and in a blind act of desperation, Captain Quez reached out to grasp a pneumatic line fixed to the wall. The sudden change in inertia nearly wrenched his shoulder out as he felt a sharp pain in his other hand. It was T'yeellaa. Her grasp in his own, each holding with everything they had including claws to prevent the eternity of space from swallowing her. In a daze, Cirrsseeto looked back to see his sister screaming words he couldn't hear even at such close distance. He could only scream back and hope she heard.

"HANG ON!!! T'YEELLAA!!!!"

TO BE CONTINUED