Mise En Place

[Q. Samus Dage]

Two days following this thread... (https://theholo.net/forum/showthread.php?56645-Midnight-in-Nomaani-s-Garden)




The few days without Captain s'Ilancy had been spent in routine, but it was a pre-planned routine. It was how things usually went when she was called away for short periods of time, ensconced in whatever meetings she was required to attend on whatever planet was deemed the place to be for the day. It was during those times that Samus Dage more or less allowed the ship to operate on autopilot. Oh, he directed things, but there was not much to direct when it came to simple stopovers. They would mostly return to the line once the captain returned. Trips to Jovan, sojourns to the border worlds to assuage any fears, resupply, deliver sundries. It was mostly a level set of duties and tasks, and it provided a bit of strange peace. Far removed from the old days, Samus was beginning to rather enjoy himself in these newer times.

They had picked up the captain and the Jedi, Zem Vymes, from Carshoulis a few hours previous, lingering in the Cluster only long enough to send grateful comms and a few official words with the Pride galleon Kaurra'Iro'Iro that had escorted them in, then out once more. It had been a relatively easy encounter, though fraught with thin-lipped smiles in the way that Dage had come to know quite well during his time with T'yeellaa. He'd become adept enough at reading the ear cues no matter the subtlety, and while some he could suss out in timely enough fashion, there were certainly still particular ticks that he'd yet to translate and memorize.

But, everything had been smooth enough, and two hours into hyperspace found Samus happily back in his normal role. Let the Captain have that seat on her precious bridge.

What he wasn't happy with, however, was the sight of a steaming, shriveled pile of overheated rations that a serving droid had brusquely dropped on his tray. The thin black plastic of the 'plate', formed into one main entree area and two smaller side-dish sections held food that he wasn't exactly sure was edible. Today's meal? Nuna A La Emperor with Rodian tuber fries (limp and moist with steam), and some mixed vegetable slurry. He wished he was back at the Diktat's Roost in that moment, distracted only by the droid asking if he wanted a drink.

A nod, and a liquid-filled pouch was set on his tray with as much grace as his food had been. He sighed, shoulders slumping, and turned from the ordering area to begin the search for a table.

This time of the afternoon it was largely empty, save for a few of the squadron pilots tucked into a corner table.

And, surprisingly, one other person.

Samus let his tray smack down on the table inhabited by the lone occupant, swiftly following suit and flopping his lanky frame into a chair.

"The trick is to imagine it's your favorite food. Don't think about what it really is, cause that'll only guarantee you end up starving to death."

[Zem Vymes]

The creative grousing elicited a half-upturned grin from the Jedi Master, who was already well on his way to getting his bearings on the food in front of him.

"Oh it's not so bad," Zem consoled, turning over the over-cooked puree of vegetables with his spork. "In my experience, as long as you make the best of what you have, every meal can be a banquet."

The rest of that saying went unsaid. He'd had a lifetime of bad meals. Regrettable choices of poor quality and negligible portion, begged borrowed or stolen in the name of filling the tank for another day on the run. The bad made you appreciate the good, and in return, you managed to smile even when the portions were lean.

Clearly, Commander Dage longed for a lifestyle to which he was accustomed. Not a Jedi frame of mind, but one that Zem could at least understand.

"Besides, I wouldn't want to hurt the cook's feelings."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Then you're the only one on this ship that has an inkling of thoughtfulness for that bucket of rusted servos over there," a jerked thumb to the serving droid still behind the food counter.

His thumb folded down as his index finger snapped out to point at the pilots huddled together a short ways off.

"Them? I can almost promise you they're plotting that poor thing's demise."

His words were punctuated with a smile that was a bizarre mix of joke and seriousness. It wasn't lost on him though, the fact that the Jedi Master had a certain leg up on the food they'd each been given. Unwrapping the thin paper napkin from around his own spork, he speared (actually smushed) a tuber fry. Moisture escaped the punctures in lazy drips. Held aloft in front of his face, his eyes eventually looked past it to Vymes.

"How about you do a poor working guy a favor and wag your fingers to turn this sad bit of food into something with flavor?"

A smirk, followed by a knowing wink, and the blonde popped the limp fry into his mouth.

[Zem Vymes]

The Jedi Master replied with only a sympathetic smile. Of course, it would do the Commander's mood no favors to say that Zem's previous meal had been the kind of epicurean state of bliss that caused Jedi to warn about forbidden attachments.

"I think you figured out the secret with the first thing you said. Your focus shapes your reality."

Spearing a bite, Zem paused. He didn't exactly frown, but rather changed tact.

"Of course, where the imagination fails, a little sinthan and a little salt do wonders."

He hadn't known Loklorien's executive officer extensively, but Zem's feelings gave him the impression that the dour quality of lunch wasn't entirely what he wanted to talk about.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Possibly, but they can only do so much."

But, the Jedi Master still had a point, and Samus gave a helpless shrug as he scooped up a sporkful of vegetables. He stared at it for a moment before putting it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as his gaze meandered across the mostly empty mess hall; from the pilots, to his food, then finally back up to Vymes. He swallowed, then let his utensil tap idly at the thin nuna cutlet which had so thoughtfully been pre-cut.

"I heard stories about you, you know. Me an' Kori joined up in Dan's old cell a month or so after you vanished. The old girl doesn't know it, but we used to hear her from behind doors. Ain't ever heard a man cursed to so many different hells in my life."

[Zem Vymes]

It felt strange to discuss that level of intimacy in third person, but it wasn't the sort of thing that Dage could've cooked up in a vacuum.

"I did a few awful things in the name of a good I couldn't quite get my hands around."

Zem fussed with his meal, delaying another underwhelming bite.

"Suppose that makes me no worse than a lot, and also no better."

Talking dogma with those who didn't feel the force around them was always a struggle, and Zem tried to keep the conversation to a lay pedigree.

"She had every right to feel that way."

[Q. Samus Dage]

A hrmph, and the blonde broke eye contact to stare down at his food.

"You thought you were doing good. Can't really blame you for that."

Grappling a slice of nuna, Samus shoveled it into his mouth, gave a few quick chews, then sent it down his throat while setting down the spork and taking up the pouch of nutri-water. He pulled the thin straw from its' plastic covering, and poked the angled end forcefully through the small off-color hole.

"But here you are again, back in the game so to speak."

He felt almost like a kid again, sucking up Naboo-Sun through a too-small straw. Except, unlike that heavenly concoction of fruit concentrate and sugar, nutri-water had an almost gritty mouthfeel to it, as though the vitamins and minerals it supposedly held were coarsely ground and simply dumped into whatever vats were used to 'mix' the drink. It was a singular taste, if nothing else.

Even though the man now sitting across from him was a Jedi, he was still a man. And Samus had had plenty of time learning how to read people in his years. Maybe his exposure to T'yeella had helped, in that being with her had taught him to pick up on an entirely new set of ticks, slight hand motions, and a litany of other tells. And something in his new table-mate was projecting outward. Of course, it could also be the strange brotherly affection that Samus had embraced with his old friend despite her peculiarities. Or perhaps it was in spite of it. Either way there was a note of protective rumbling that laced his next words.

"She doesn't really let on how she's feeling most times, but if you know what to look for, it's there. That being said," again he picked up his spork, "... she's not unreadable if you know what you're looking for."

Another piece of nuna was wrangled up, half-speared and half-ground by the short tines. It was lifted up, then used as an impromptu pointing instrument, dead center on the Jedi Master.

"She was dreading the trip to the Cluster. Did her level best to make excuses for not going. Even tried some idiot pass-off by claiming she'd come down with Ithorian Red Fever. But now? Now that she's back, after spending two or so days out there, she steps off Varin's shuttle as though she's on cloud nine. Like she's just been told she can set foot on Ossus again."

The nuna was summarily popped in his mouth then, and between bites, he continued.

"Oh she was quiet and reserved and, well, Lok-ish, but I know what to look for. That old gal was ecstatic."

He swallowed.

"So. Makes me curious about what happened back there."

And in an instant the rangy blonde shifted from a partially joking, jovial manner to something more serious.

"If you get my drift."

[Zem Vymes]

"It wasn't simply that I thought I was doing good..."

Zem turned the empty fork over on his hand, only passingly interested in the meal.

"...the end result speaks for itself. The Force..."

He paused with a mild grimace. There was no way of talking about this by sanitizing the details.

"...often reveals the destination, but obfuscates the journey. Loklorien and I, we have a lot of shared mileage. Those days you mention, those were hard on the both of us. Harder on her by far, I don't doubt. But good was done in the end. It's not the right question to ask if a man would turn back the clock and change his choices and circumstances. To possess and control history, that's not our way. We're passengers. Just as we're passengers on this ship."

The Jedi Master prolonged the silence with a bite of bland vegetable. Sipping his water, he set it aside, and gathered his thoughts in order.

"As for the turn of mood? Well, that's the next leg of the voyage. Before she was Captain and Commodore, Loklorien was a Jedi Knight the same as I. We shared that common experience so completely, we're just now considering that we're each of us human."

Zem smirked at the not-quite-accurate turn of phrase.

"From a certain point of view, that is."

[Q. Samus Dage]

The word choice was not lost on him, and Samus couldn't help but let a out a chuckle.

"Well, that's definitely one way to put it," his knowing grin didn't quite wipe away, even as he downed another few tuber fries. They turned into mush it seemed, on contact with his tongue. But, he chewed gamely and swallowed without too much fuss. After all, it wasn't the first time he'd had to choke down the horrid things. What he wouldn't give to have thick-cut tuber wedges fried in duck fat.

"Had a hell of a basket of tricks too," the mention of Lok's tenure with the Jedi was one that brought back old memories as if they now played out in front of him. But still, there was always the underlying nature of a protective brother for his old friend that ran deep, and Samus let out a long, low sigh. Those rueful flashes shifted as his mind switched back, eyes both focusing on the Jedi sitting across from him. The old guy had a calm nature to him, as though he'd walked the long road and learned more than a few hard lessons along the way. But, they were lessons that had obviously shaped him, and the blonde could respect that.

But still...

"She's the oldest friend I have that's still alive." The note of caution was more than evident in his tone.

"And she'd no doubt deny it, but that heart of hers is still fragile."

He looked down to his food.

"All those things that Dan did, I honestly do think that the worst was bringing her to the moment in time when she ended him. Killing someone you loved as much as she'd loved him... it's the most wrenching thing someone can do to another being."

[Zem Vymes]

Dage's observation brooked no disagreement from Vymes. The Jedi Master's eyes fixed upon the table.

"I think she'd buried the man, the fiction of the man, well before that moment. As long as Darth Decepis could be Dan, he could alter Lok's reality. None of this is easy to comprehend, not even for myself. We can become enslaved to our better natures. So much of what she did in his name was done with good intention. He stole that compass from her. Hitched it to himself, and told her to follow him.

I've never wavered in seeing the good in Loklorien. The light never went out. The tragedy of it all is what darkness a good heart can be led to."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She felt a strange sense of new life injected into her consciousness. As though she had suddenly gone from aimless drudgery and self-drowning to having a renewed sense of hope and excitement, the Lupine found that her footsteps seemed to have more of a sense of purpose. Rather than simply existing to bury herself in work in the effort of forgetting unforgettable memories, she had suddenly (an honestly, quite unexpectedly), been thrown a lifeline. A chance to become the woman she'd always been meant to be. Whatever the will of the Force, it was stronger than her own will, and stronger still than the will of Darth Decepis. The notion that all of this was fate still held no water for her; fate was still an outdated and silly notion. No, it was the will of the Force. The will.

Her normal duties tended to, s'Il had allowed herself time alone in her quarters to change into a fresh uniform, suddenly finding true comfort in the fabric. Before, it had been a prison that she relegated herself to. It'd been a strange comfort in the restriction of duty and loyalty she wore each and every day. But now? Now it had become some truly comforting. She felt purpose-driven once more, as if she'd been reborn.

And stepping through the doors of the mess hall, her eye tracked through the mostly empty area. It was no real surprise that a few pilots were huddled together at a far table, fully engrossed in what looked like a game of cards.

But it was the two men who occupied a table more or less in the centre of the room that arrested her attention quite swiftly.

The beginnings of a frown as she found herself unsurprised that Dage would find his way to Zem so immediately. One foot stepped forward, then another. She was not hungry, and so bypassed the food counter. Instead, she made for the table. Stopping at the edge, she looked down at the occupants; first Zem, then Samus.

Slowly, the Lupine moved to sit. Beside Zem. Her hands moved to rest on the tabletop, hands together, fingers intertwining. Her eyes remained on Samus, but her words were very obviously for Zem.

"I certainly hope that my Executive Officer has been nothing but gracious and respectful."

[Zem Vymes]

"Oh certainly, Captain."

The Jedi Master maintained a placid little smile on his face as he reciprocated his address to Lok in the same professional manner she'd begun.

"Grousing over the autochef and the rations notwithstanding. We've just been comparing notes."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

'Comparing notes'. There was a small part of her that did not like the sound of those two words. Samus Dage was no stranger to conspiratorial happenings, and the Lupine gave her XO a suddenly narrow-eyed look. He only offered a smirk and helpless shrug while shoveling a mass of nuna and vegetables into his mouth. No doubt to avoid having to answer any questions. No matter. She had new enough to share.

"We're being diverted to Telos."

Both hands came together on the table's surface, fingers intertwining.

"It seems there is a small matter that requires our attention, and Command has asked that we see to it. They see our current position and proximity, coupled with the fact that Master Vymes is with us, as an advantage that they wish to take."

Finally she angled a sideways look to Zem.

"I am sorry that we'll not be able to return you to Ossus in as timely a fashion as previously thought."

She wasn't sorry, and she knew that he was very well aware that she was not.

[Zem Vymes]

"That I am with you?"

Matters of military were no stranger to Zem. After all, he'd spent all of the Clone Wars getting to know that particular brand of entropy. Still, the relationship between the Alliance and the Jedi Order was not the same as the relationship between the Republic and the Order. They still worked closely together, but not quite hand in hand as before.

Telos had been a vital stronghold during the clone wars, and later a major imperial staging area. Given it's proximity to the Hydian Way, that brokered no surprise.

"How might I be of service?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

The news only elicited a raised eyebrow, but Samus said nothing as he continued to empty his plate. It was one of those necessary evils, to choke down the very stuff that kept you going. He was used to it though, and had developed a decent enough tolerance to bad, pre-packaged food. At least he had the few stopovers at Jovan, and during those times he gorged himself. Thoughts on Jovan inevitably led to thoughts on T'yeellaa, and the rangy blonde found himself suddenly doing his best to quell the less-than-professional musing that always seemed to spring to life. He knew s'Il abhorred extending that second sight of hers unless necessary, but with Master Vymes thrown into the mix, Samus did his best to maintain decorum in his head. The last thing he wanted was to telegraph the happy - and very carnal - memories of the last time they'd stopped at Jovan. T'yeellaa had instigated a game of hide and seek in her quarters, and as usual had 'hid' beneath the covers of-

- bad food. Limp tuber fries. Sad vegetables. Over-processed nuna. Pretend they're crispy tuber fries, steamed veg, and perfectly fire-grilled spicy nuna from the southern regions of Myomar.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A single finger twitched slightly, moving to tap a knuckle.

"There's a small group of refugees from Imperial space who have recently turned up; about a month ago if I'm to go by the reports that Command sent me."

Refugees and those escaping the Empire were nothing exactly new, and all three of them knew it. But it was the next bit of information that held the most importance.

"Word is there are Force sensitive children among them, and the Alliance wishes for all of the group to be relocated to Ossus. They understand that the choice is ultimately the Council's, but they are hoping for an amicable solution."

[Zem Vymes]

"Really?"

Zem's interest was piqued, and he leaned forward so that his elbows met the table.

"Well...I can't speak for the council alone, but I see no reason why we would refuse such a request. Do you know who helped to organize their passage?"

This was a fortuitous turn. Force sensitives on the Imperial side of the galaxy faced tremendous uncertainty and danger. If someone was helping to spirit them away, perhaps they could partner to help even more children.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I do not."

Simple and concise, in much the way that she always was. There was no flowery conjecture, just honest truth. Whoever had shown enough 'compassion' to help these refugees had - in her mind - done so for the credits. She knew what it was like to live hand-to-mouth while scrambling for whatever safe harbor could be found. She'd done it herself, and Zem had been there, at her side, during those terrible times.

"Perhaps we will ask them once we arrive at Telos."

Of course, there was always one more 'thing' to tend to, and s'Il let her eye track from Zem to Dage.

"I've been asked to stop at Jovan first, however. It seems K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei has been plucked from her normal duties to assist us."

[Q. Samus Dage]

It was as if she was purposefully provoking him, jerking his thoughts from their studious exertions in imagining his meal as something actually appetizing. He stooped chewing, looked up to meet her mismatched gaze, and slowly followed with a deliberate swallow. The spork was let down, deposited with calm gentleness.

Samus pushed the tray away, towards the middle of the table, and as if on cue Captain s'Ilancy disengaged her own hands to reach out and complete the action, pulling it to find a new spot in front of her.

She could have it. It was horrid anyway.

A respectful nod was given to both of his tablemates, and with a light groan, the blonde rose to stand.

"I'll be in on the bridge," he rumbled.

It was easy to tell that this new news had taken him by surprise, and he was - in the face of it - unwilling to exert any more energy than necessary in pushing down his thoughts on the matter. A courteous nod, and his lanky frame stepped back. He even gave a half-hearted salute before turning on his heel and vacating the mess hall.

[Zem Vymes]

Zem wished he'd gotten more insight into the unnamed samaritans. That wasn't what the force willed, unfortunately. Loklorien was right, patience was the best virtue here. Perhaps Telos would give more insight into whether they were dealing with simple coyotes or someone they could actively partner with.

It was the next bit of news that confused the Jedi Master. He knew enough of Jovan Station, but Loklorien namedropped a Cizerack officer with a fairly blue-blooded name. For whatever reason, it was enough to cause a visible sea change in her first officer, who promptly excused himself from the table.

"Good talking to you." Zem called after, but by then, Dage was halfway to the mess hall exit. Vymes turned a quizzical expression to his partner.

"Was it something you said?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She'd already polished off one bite of nuna; not so much chewing as simply swallowing. A second sporkful was already on its' way to her mouth when Zem asked his question. She paused, mouth open, and slowly the Lupine closed it once more. She angled her head to afford him a white, sideways look. A slow blink.

And just as slowly, the spork and its' shoveled contents were lowered back down to the plastic tray-plate.

"Well... "

There was a moment of silence as she considered how to best answer.

"I suppose you could say that the two... enjoy each other's company."

[Zem Vymes]

"Oh."

Zem's face went cryptic for a moment, then a little surprise shone through.

"Oh."

More silence, until he leaned forward a bit, propping with his elbows.

"Meorrrei? The same Meorrrei as..."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"T'yeellaa would be her eldest, so yes."

She went back to her food, though at a less barbaric pace. Rather than simply eating with no other purpose than to gain sustenance, the Lupine did her best to slow her pace and intersperse her bites with talk.

"It was not what I expected, but the two seem to like each other well enough."

The spork rested atop a small pile of tubers and she leaned forward a small bit to finally give a sniff to what she'd been eating. It was about what she expected. Only maybe... worse? A frown, and s'Il tapped the table with a fingertip.

"Mother and daughter are mostly night and day however. Do not expect some younger version of Taataani."

[Zem Vymes]

The Jedi Master looked visibly relieved by that assurance.

"I suppose the galaxy couldn't be large enough for two of them."

It wasn't that his time with the esteemed Senator of Kepaa Brens had been bad - far from it. But the Rrou'fai of the house certainly seemed to suck up all the air in whatever room she inhabited. Even if this K'ohta'rrou was somehow a fraction of the brilliance, he wondered how Commander Dage could maintain course in that gravitational pull.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A rueful smile came unbidden to her lips, both corners ticking upward ever-so-slightly.

"I think that if there were two of them, our lives would be planned meticulously until the day that we die."

Not exactly a jab, it was a musing on the level of attention and perseverance that Taataani had shown so recently. A stray look to his own tray of food, and without ceremony the Lupine liberated half of the sponge-like brownie that still sat untouched in the top corner of his plate.

[Zem Vymes]

"How are you still hungry after Carshoulis?"

It was said in part surprise, and part good fun. Zem fixed Lok with an amused twinkle as he surrendered his brownie without incident.

"I could skip meals for three days and probably be sated. I don't think I've eaten like that since, well...ever."

While gluttony wasn't specifically singled out and forbidden under the Jedi code, Zem had to wonder if that level of indulgence didn't in some way function contrary to the spirit of tempering passions. At the very least, if he spent a month on Carshoulis he might be in no physical condition to duel!

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Pausing mid-chew, s'Il gave an owlish blink as she stared at him.

Slowly she swallowed, very nearly making an entire production out of such a simple action.

"Metabolism?"




* * *


Jovan hung in space like a sentinal, perched over an invisible line, a watcher. It had gained a steady increase in traffic with each successive visit that s'Il could remember, and in a way she supposed that it was a hopeful thing. She secretly enjoyed the notion of a thriving community in space, and despite what she was sure were a myriad of differences shoved together and made to work out the kinks, there was a necessity to such things.

From her seat on the bridge, the Lupine leaned back, one elbow propping her up only slightly. The drop from hyperspace had been routine, their clearance codes sent and instructions given. But, rather than the normal docking procedures, Mr. Varin would be taking a shuttle to pick up their temporarily attached guest. It wasn't anything particularly out of the ordinary, but still; it would've been nice to see the station once more. The last time that she'd visited she had found a rather enjoyable Cizerack restaurant that specialized in a multitude of marinated raw meats. It'd been delightful, and she had very nearly made herself sick.

Now however, there was no time it seemed for small breathers, and the Captain turned an almost lazy eye to KHER.

"Is Mr. Varin off, then?"

"He is, Ma'am."

"Good."

A moment passed, and she shifted her gaze to Zem, who had taken up residence beside the ship's AI.

"A shame we don't have time to dock. You would like it there, I think."

[Zem Vymes]

Master Vymes remained somewhat skeptical of that assessment as he stood at his partner's side, taking in the vista afforded of the station from the bridge.

"Taking holiday on an Imperial space station? After the pampering on Carshoulis, I think you may be slightly mad."

And that was part of the amusement - he was finding more and more that Loklorien s'Ilancy often had him figured out before he'd made up his own mind.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Slightly mad? Perhaps."

Rising to stand, s'Il took a few steps forward, gesturing for Zem to follow. Past the pilot's nest and up the shallow stairwell that opened onto the grated walkway that lined the front viewport. It afforded a mostly unobstructed view of the space before them, and the station that sat so quietly in space, surrounded by traffic of all types.

"It's actually rather remarkable despite how it appears. One would almost say it's bigger on the inside than it looks from the outside."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei maintained a good sabacc face in uniform, but she was giddy on the inside. A temporary assignment to warship duty as an expert advisor was a welcome change of scenery in that the scenery actually changed on a ship. It was a reminder of the life she'd temporarily deferred to become the executive officer of Jovan station. A life that she vowed to return to at some point.

Then there was the small bonus of serving for a couple of days with Samus. It was such a good idea on flimsi, but this was in itself completely unchartered territory. Aside from sitting on joint command conferences, they had never actually served together. Would that work out? Would they get on, or would it be a professional disaster? In a relationship of firsts, there was a lot of rocky terrain in kissing an equal, and T'yeellaa far from an expert.

It all left her with a few clawhoppers flipping in her stomach, but you wouldn't figure it by looking at her. The K'ohta'rrou's duty uniform was immaculate from her cap, high starch collar, and white gloves. She carried a small duffel with just enough basics to accomodate her for two or three days of duty. As the shuttle ahead pierced the atmospheric shield, T'yeellaa waited as an aloof species of statue.

[Jeremy Varin]

The approach to his designated berth was made smoothly, and Jeremy brought the nu-class shuttle in past the atmospheric barriers, letting the old craft hang for but a moment before beginning the slow taxi. The wings had been folded, and landing struts extended slowly from a blanket of ejected hydraulic steam. Jeremy Varin was more than aware of the practical dinosaur he so regularly flew, but sometimes you just couldn't beat the classics. They were hardy, built like hovertanks, and difficult to truly replace.

He didn't bother making the effort to extricate himself from the cockpit, as this was a simple pick-up. It helped that he could already see his passenger waiting for him, and even as the shuttle touched down softly, he reached forward to activate the boarding ramp. A hiss of more vented steam, and the nose of the old beast began to slowly extend downward.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The lack of curbside service was a feature, not a drawback. T'yeellaa eschewed the innate Meorrrei urge to insist on pampering, and a career in the military had cemented that ethic. She bounded up the plank, duffel in tow. With the pilot situated in a lofted seating platform above the entry, there was little to no incentive to get chummy. That was fine by her.

Securing her duffel in the cargo webbing, T'yeellaa strapped in the nearest seat, taking care to mind the hem of her jacket as she negotiated the buckle.

[Jeremy Varin]

From his perch above, Jeremy hadn't really paid much attention to the officer waiting, but the internal sensors told him enough that she'd boarded. Everything now was routine, and he couldn't help the smirk that etched onto his face. He remembered her well enough, though there was a healthy suspicion that she had not a clue that the very same man she'd shared angry drinks with was now her pilot. It was one of those lovely little things about fate, and even as he began the quicklist point checks for in and out pick-ups, he couldn't help himself. In one fluid motion Varin retracted the boarding ramp while activating the talkback comm.

"Pleasure to have you aboard, K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei."

In the grand scheme of things it wasn't much, but Jeremy had strangely been gifted with the luck of his voice sounding exactly the same, whether face to face or over the comm.

"I hope you've not brought any of that brown, angry firewater with you."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Her ears flicked as the vox chimed in. Even through the scrubbed electronic comm line, the voice was familiar enough to recognize.

"Jerremjy Varrjin."

Pilot Jeremy Varin, it would seem. T'yeellaa spoke to the ceiling, lacking a reference point. He'd be a much hazier memory if it wasn't for an awful lot of good advice rendered when she needed it. The K'ohta'rrou smiled as she leaned back in her seat.

"Forrtunateljy, jI thjink both the Alljiance and Cizeri navjiess have ssomethjing to ssajy agajinsst mjixjing ljiquorr and actjive dutjy."

[Jeremy Varin]

He gently pulled on the yoke, feeling as the shuttle responded smoothly. It had become his baby in a way, and he took care of his ship nowadays in just the same manner as he had cared for that old, battle-worn TIE fighter he used to fly. Some things from the academy never died; at least, the basic things. And as the nu-class shuttle lifted once again, repulsors easing it back, Jeremy began the turn that would leave them facing open space. He talked as he flew.

"I suppose when legitimate trappings get laid on, this man's 'navy' has to start behaving."

It was a tongue in cheek jab at the less than official manners that had once been part and parcel for the old Rebel Alliance. Of course, he had not thrown his towel in with the Alliance until Endor, and everything before then had been uniforms, inspections, and flying. Oh, he'd told the K'ohta'rrou the truth about not being accepted to the fleet academy, but he'd also left out the fact that he had reapplied. That time, he'd gotten in.

The shuttle cleared the atmospheric barrier, and as it did its' wings folded down, locking into place.

He purposefully chose not to ask her how the festival had gone; her previous frustrations at having to go were enough that he didn't want to pry. Instead, he spoke of things much more immediate.

"If you want, I'll send down the back seat for you so you can get a look at your new home away from home. Well, a closer look than a screen on some terminal in the station's command hub, at least."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The K'ohta'rrou smiled at the offer.

"jI'd ljike that."

A moment later, the copilot seat raced down with a hiss of hydraulics. T'yeellaa unbuckled from her passenger seat, taking the copilot seat's promised vantage. She hooked in, then slapped the recall button on the armrest, sending the chair up into the cockpit, where she sat behind and slightly above the shuttle pilot. The semi dome of transparisteel afforded a wide open view of space, allowing the K'ohta'rrou an unfettered look at the one-of-a-kind ship they were approaching. There was something to be said of the artistry of Khera'va'ssio, and someone could certainly say it a lot better than T'yeellaa could. It wasn't exactly the beauty of the ship she was admiring. It was an idea. A sense of place. Unseen by Varin, T'yeellaa's eyes appeared wistfully longing.

"Nai'enna y'ennetaiya kau suurro'arr."

[Jeremy Varin]

He smiled knowingly. Even despite his inability to understand Cizeri, the emotion in her voice was easily translated. His attentions returned to his controls however, and the normal docking chatter he'd come to expect filled the air around him.

"Nu Alpha Seven Seven Zero, you're cleared for berth."

"Copy that, Control."

His head angled slightly up and to the side; his passenger was very much out of sight, but he knew that she would know he was addressing her.

"You ever been on one of these old boats before, Ma'am?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Nothjing ljike thjiss beforre, no."

T'yeellaa had served on old ships. But old to her was measured in decades. And she'd flown aboard privately-owned vessels of tremendous beauty. Her mother certainly owned numerous star yachts, at least one was built by hand. But a ship like Khera'va'ssio? It was in a class of it's own, or at least quite nearly.

"Therre ussed to be a rrace out jin the Outerr Rrjim known asss the Drragon Vojid Rrun. Do jyou know of jit?"

[Jeremy Varin]

"I've heard of it, yeah."

He talked as he flew, his skills on display as the old shuttle smoothly slid past the atmospheric barrier and into the hangar. A row of A-Wings were nestled along one side, each in their own cubby-port that allowed just enough room for the pilot to slip in. Lining the other side of the hangar was an assortment of supply crates, surrounded by a small smattering of deck hands and a single cargo crane suspended from a heavily reinforced track above.

"Never had the desire to do anything like that though. I mostly stuck to those old TIE's and did what I was told. Course, times change, and now I'm here."

Some might find the shift from a fighter pilot to shuttle duty as a demotion or some form of insult, but for Jeremy it'd been a godsend. He had found that there was a certain detestable level reached when pushed into the cockpit of something that didn't even have shields. Some pilots ate up the fact that there was no safety net, but for him he found the nu-class to be a far superior craft, and a machine worth his time. He babied the old bird, and while he'd not named her yet, there was a healthy degree of affection he felt for each deckplate and console panel.

The short descent to the deck was made gently, and he settled them comfortably down.

A quick look toward the large, arching entrance showed him that there would be at least someone to meet the K'ohta'rrou. Not that he didn't enjoy her company, but he had his own duties, after all. And he suspected that she was the sort to get down to business at the earliest opportunity.

"Looks like you're getting the executive treatment," he grinned while beginning his shut-down sequences.

"The old gal actually left the bridge to welcome you aboard."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Back to reality.

T'yeellaa unpacked her memories of the old race she'd witnessed as a cub. Khera'va'ssio wasn't a hand-built star racer, and Loklorien s'Ilancy wasn't the near-mythical Loo Ree Anno. But the special nature of this ship couldn't be dispelled, especially as a veteran starship captain.

"Thank jyou forr the rrjide, Jerremjy."

The K'ohta'rrou tapped the debark control on her seat, triggering the lowering mechanism that would take her back down to the cabin.

"jI'll ssee jyou on the rreturrn trrjip."

Gathering her things from the cargo webbing, T'yeellaa stood at the gangplank as it lowered.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a certain level of respect that any captain would extend to another. In her mind, s'Il still saw T'yeellaa Meorrrei as just that; a fellow officer that held the reigns of a starship. Oh, the woman might not be at the helm of her own ship any longer, but... how did the saying go? Taking the captain from the ship, but never the ship from the captain? It made sense in a way, and moreso when the Lupine attributed it to other aspects of life. There were so many deep connotations to consider and weigh, though it was never a chore. It was simple courtesy and understanding. And above all else - it was pure decency.

Standing at a short distance from Jeremy's shuttle, s'Il kept her features passive and level as the edge of the nose ramp clanged upon the decking.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa was again the picture of immaculate order by the time the ramp had dropped. With the brim of her officer's cap pulled squarely parallel with the top of her eyes, she was as sharp as the best representative of the Trade Navy. It wasn't that she was simply making a good impression for Captain s'Ilancy. It had as much to do with her own sense of pride. She'd ask the same of the women and men under her command, therefore that was what she'd also do.

"Rrequest perrmjisssjion to come aboarrd, Rrou'a."

Her duffle rested by her feet, leaving T'yeellaa's white-gloved hands free to rest in rigid array at her sides.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Hands clasped behind her back, s'Il let the request travel the air between them, and a scant moment later she gave a respectful nod.

"Permission granted, K'ohta'rrou."

Taataani's eldest was a world apart from her mother. There were certainly a few similarities, but T'yeellaa Meorrrei was her own woman. She was also very military, and while she herself had not exactly spent her life in such, the Lupine could understand the comfort drawn from the order demanded in such a life. It was a realization that she'd come to ever since Ossus, and she had drawn the protective layers of duty around her like the most comforting of blankets.

Still though, a smile could not be completely held back, and she allowed one corner of her lips to tick upward ever so slightly.

"I am glad that Commander Akiena agreed to give you up for a spell."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

With permission given, T'yeellaa retrieved her luggage, falling into step with the Captain for the long walk to exit the hangar. s'Ilancy's words didn't sway T'yeella's disciplined mouth into a smile, but her eyes brightened a bit beneath the brim of her cap.

"Begrrudgjingljy, rrou'a."

No doubt because T'yeellaa had been an effective goalie to keep civilian problems away from Akiena, though she suspected he'd admit even more.

"He told me to not get too comforrtable aboarrd a sstarrsshjip."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

As the two passed beneath the large arching doorway that marked the border between the Hangar and the rest of the ship, s'Il couldn't help the rueful hrmph at the notion that there was anything comfortable aboard her ship to take a liking to.

"Well, there is not much to take comfort in here, I am afraid to say."

Her ship had fewer amenities than a ship half-way through retrofitting; or so she had been told on more than one occasion. It was an assessment that usually elicited a noncommittal shrug. It was acceptable for a ship of the line, and she was satisfied with it.

"Although, he has spent time aboard himself, and should know that we've no real additional accommodations."

Rounding a bend, she was mindful to keep a steady pace; nothing to rush, but nothing too slow, either. It was to allow her guest to familiarize as she walked; to get a basic feel for her temporary surroundings.

"I have, however, made certain that your quarters are acceptably furnished."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The Captain was telling the truth. As they passed from the hangar into the interior of the ship, T'yeellaa could plainly tell that it was considerably less-appointed than a Cizerack galleon. It wasn't as brutalist as the Imperial decor of Jovan, so it at least felt a little more intimate. s'Ilancy mentioned her quarters, which gave T'yeellaa relief. Her complicated relationship status with Samus wasn't exactly a secret, but the K'ohta'rrou certainly didn't want to deal with the assumption that she might be cohabiting. Was that hypocrisy, or did it matter more once you left a space station and boarded a ship?

"Thank jyou, rrou'a."

Keeping an easy pace with her superior, T'yeellaa mindfully kept the sway in her tail a bit restricted. The corridors weren't nearly as spacious as they were on Jovan.

"jI've rread what ljittle jI could on jyourr sship, and jI'm jimprresssed. He punchess well above hjiss wejight classs."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A small laugh as she gave a nod in thanks at the compliment.

"Unfortunately he is also very old, and thus prone to a lovely array of... quirks."

It was the nicest way she could think of to describe KHER's behavior, and s'Il simply left it at that as they passed a pair of pilots on their way to the hangar. Both men gave a quick salute that was returned in kind with a respectful nod on her part. Her pilots were a decent mix of veterans and new faces; each one dedicated to their fighters and the Cause that they flew under. Whether they actually appreciated their posting aboard her ship she did not know. Oh, she could certainly divine their feelings on the matter, but doing such a thing was distasteful to her, and so she kept her thoughts well in check.

There was pride though, when her thoughts turned to her ship. KHER had become a confidant (even friend) in as intimate a way that a ship could be with a captain. There was a connection, that the both of them came from the same stock, and s'Il often encouraged the old thing to go beyond the boundaries that he originally been placed within so long ago. Her reasoning was that both were no longer in the past - they existed now, and they had to adapt. The two often enough spent nights alone, discussing the old philosophies, rights, wrongs, the old feuds, and even some of what little past he could recall from before his first separation.

Absently, the Lupine let a hand extend, rapping two knuckles against the bulkhead.

"But a captain could not ask for a better ship."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa paused in the corridor, placing a white-gloved hand against the bulkhead that marked the divide between compartments. Her eyes half-lidded, as if she was here and someplace else at the same time. A small smile crept into her expression.

"Therre'ss neverr one ljike jyourr own."

She could feel the faint quaver in the hull - the call and response of millions of tons of durasteel against a hypermatter reactor. It had a life to it, like the pulse of a great animal. If Loklorien s'Ilancy was a good captain, and there was no reason to believe she wasn't, she'd know every shudder, pulse, and growl like a mother recognized her cub. T'yeellaa hadn't had children - had no plans for it at all - but she imagined that feeling was the closest she'd come to what it was like.

"Perrmjisssjion to sspeak candjidljy, rrou'a?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Slowing to a stop in front of a lift, s'Il sent a sideways look to T'yeellaa as she depressed the call button.

Her free hand came up in a gesture of good-will.

"By all means."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"When we fjirrsst met, jI wass the Suun'da'rrou of a galleon, and jyou werre a Jedji rrefugee. That wassn't that long ago. jYou've commanded a sshjip forr a jyearr? Two jyearrss?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was a fair question, though complicated in its' own right.

"I suppose that is an accurate enough assessment. Though, before you and I met, there were many years that I spent aboard your brother's current ship. All of that was following the Clone Wars however. After I returned to service, I served closely under... General Thrule aboard Dauntless."

The brutal truth was often the only answer that could be given.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

That wasn't exactly what she was getting at, and T'yeellaa shook her head.

"Sserrvjice jissn't command, rrou'a. Command jiss morre than jusst a prrofesssjion. jYou gjive jit morre than that. jYou gjive jit jyourr kaa'rri, knowjing that jyou'rre marrrjyjing a jealouss hussband. A hussband that doessn't tolerrate manjy morre jin jyourr ljife."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I grew up in the Temple. Our service was much more than a simple profession."

The doors to the lift opened, and with a deferential nod to her guest, s'Il followed T'yeellaa inside.

"I suppose that I treat my time with the Alliance as I did when I was with the Jedi. My command and my service are one and the same. It is not the same for others, but for me it is as such."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The K'ohta'rrou curled her tail halfway around herself, making a small profile as the lift door closed. She kept her eyes on the door, but her mind on the Captain's words.

"Motherr ssajyss jyou have a mate and cubss."

Briefly, T'yeellaa stole a glance at s'Ilancy before going eyes forward again.

"jYou arren't the fjirrst Captajin jI've met who djid. jI ssupposse jI don't underrsstand how."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I had a mate."

The words were out before she could stop them. It was instinctive to speak of Dan now, in such disdainful past-tense. A man that she had once loved with every ounce of her being; a man that held her heart so firmly. To think of Zem as such, so soon after their brief trip was - in her mind - going too far. As things stood now, she had not joined herself to anyone. That would come at a later time.

Of course the matter of her children was entirely different, and there was a momentary flash of grief covered up with stoic resolve.

"As for my children... they are on Ossus. It is best that way."

There was no resentment to her tone, rather it was simply a tired, resigned timbre that answered T'yeellaa. Bowing her head, the Lupine allowed the barest flicker of a half-grin.

"I make time for them when my duties allow."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa's ears flinched visibly as she realized she'd crossed a line she couldn't see. The Captain's words were careful almost to the point of tortured. It had been selfish of her to even invoke this line of conversation.

"jI apologjize, rrou'a."

Her ears slowly began to raise again.

"Therre jiss ssuch a thjing asss too candjid jI ssupposse."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Do not apologize. It's not exactly a secret, to be honest."

The lift slowed to a stop before the doors opened once more. With a similar gesture as before, s'Il bade her guest exit first, then followed. The crew level looked identical to the rest of the ship; simple bulkhead lines and bare deckplates.

"We're all subject to the consequences of choices made, no matter the severity. It is a truth that I live with every day."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Noted, rrou'a."

With that, the K'ohta'rrou was at something of a loss for words. How had she gotten here? There had been something she'd been curious on - the juxtaposition of command and other obligations. But she'd found herself quickly in a place where she probably didn't want to be, and had touched a sensitive nerve with the Captain, it seemed.

As they walked the hallway, T'yeellaa's eyes lingered just a moment on a very familiar nametag situated over the controls of one of the simple hatches. Here, as with the rest of the ship, accomodations were somewhat cramped and spartan. There was enough room for the two officers to walk two abreast, but only if no one else was going the other way. Life on a ship often felt like you were stuck in a small town, but the intimacy on Khera'va'ssio was almost palpable. She was surprised that, given the closeness, she couldn't just smell him.

"jI underrsstand that jyourr sshjip carrrjiess a crrew farr ssmallerr than a crrujisserr of ssjimjilarr ssjize."

It was said mainly to freshen up the dead air. T'yeellaa had read what was available to her on the one-of-a-kind craft.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She could feel the feelings of discomfort coming from the K'ohta'rrou, as though she had touched upon some angry, sore nerve. It was sore - yes - but there was no anger. And while her own reassurances had obviously not assuaged her guest's worries, s'Il did not waste any time dwelling on the issue. It was not constructive.

She instead focused on the new words that'd been sent her way.

"He does, yes. One of the advantages of having a ship overseen by an artificial intelligence matrix is that many duties become self-sufficient. Though, due to his age, that also comes with a bit of... eccentricity, I suppose you could say."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Eccentrrjicjitjy?"

T'yeellaa's ears raised as she slowed her stride. She knew about problems one dealt with in skippering an older capital ship, but she'd never pegged any of the maintenance issues on Haifa'Iro'Iro as eccentric. He was just long in the tooth. So if not that, then the AI. T'yeellaa's expression turned guarded.

"What kjind of eccentrrjicjitjy?"

She'd heard stories of the veterans of the War of Republic Aggression talk about the tactician droids that were often placed in charge of key military operations. The logic those advanced machines followed sometimes tended to defy convention.

[KHER]

The answer to K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei's single-word query came first in the form of a sound. A steady clanking on the metal deckplates that was followed by the appearance of a spindly, towering droid that dwarfed both women easily. KHER had rounded the bend in the corridor with ease, his gait steady and perfectly precise. He moved with a strange grace that seemed perfectly suited for his form, but at odds with it all the same. Inky black eyes fell upon the Captain and their new guest, and slowing his pace, the droid stopped in front of them. Like some preybird, his head angled down to afford each with a long, studious look.

It is good to have you aboard, K'ohta'rrou Meorrei, his voice held bass notes that seemed wrapped in an odd tinny thread; as though his vox held a mishmash of mechanical tones that all demanded to be released at one time. Even through all of it though, the words seemed forced.

The Captain has informed me that I am to provide you with any assistance that you may require during your stay here.

A slight tick of the head, as though the order he'd been given previously grated on him.

I will... do my best.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa's ears flinched, and she blinked at the auditory discord from the gangly droid. Nothing at all was subtle about the automaton, and the K'ohta'rrou passed a glance to the Captain before returning her attention to KHER.

"Thank jyou, drrojid."

Had the machine replied in a fussy manner? Did she imagine it?

[KHER]

I am KHER. Not 'droid'.

Spoken in a bizarrely clipped tone, even for an automaton. It left little room for any argument.

I oversee all aspects of my larger half, and am tasked with making sure that the crew aboard are safe, a small pause as he cast his black orbs to the Captain.

... insofar as I am sufficiently able.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

One hand came up then, a single finger raised in caution.

"That is enough. You've seen our guest, now I suggest you take your ruffled feathers elsewhere."

It was as if a parent was scolding a child; and truthfully, it was a tone that she was disturbingly comfortable taking. At the very least, KHER seemed to respond better to it.

"Perhaps Master Vymes would enjoy hearing about your latest little foray into analyzing the Jedi Code?"

[KHER]

Mm. Yes.

It was a recommendation that was well enough received, and he looked past the two at an invisible spot in the far distance. His head angled sharply to the side for a split second before her spoke again.

He is just now leaving the mess hall. A wise notion, Captain, he started forward once more, moving between the two as each stepped from his path.

I am sure that he will be much more patient with my questions than you are.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

KHER departed, leaving a somewhat-bewildered T'yeellaa in his wake.

"jYourr drr..." She paused, correcting, "...KHERr. He'ss eccentrrjic, all rrjight. How do jyou tolerrate that level of..."

She paused, attempting to chew out a better word for it, but Captain s'Ilancy had already hit the nail on the head.

"...eccentrrjicjitjy?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"For as much as he is, he is still very old. Perhaps that makes him easier to deal with."

It was a thought that she'd honestly never considered, and s'Il couldn't help but find herself wondering at the true complexities of the question that T'yeellaa had posed.

"I've honestly never really put a lot of thought into it. I've only just, well, dealt with him. He's actually somewhat like an unruly cub, I must admit."

A strange realization that took root, and one that seemed truer the more she pondered. But, their time was still at a premium, as there was still the mission to consider; as well as making sure that the K'ohta'rrou was satisfactorily provided with her temporary quarters. The Lupine shook her head, as if to tsk at the departing droid.

"He'll no doubt pester Master Vymes for hours, which will allow us a spot of peace."

Turning on her heel, she led the way a few more paces down the corridor before stopping at a nondescript door. It opened at the press of a small thumbprint scan to reveal admittedly spartan quarters. I single room, with a small desk and chair along one wall, a bed along the opposite wall, and a narrow, closed door that led to an equally small fresher.

"It is not much I'm afraid," she stepped back to allow T'yeellaa the chance to enter first.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jI've had mjy ssharre of drrojidss. jI thjink that jif one of them everr sspoke to me ljike that, I'd have jit ssent to majintenance forr a complete djiagnosstjic."

She was skating close to the edge of decorum, but it appeared that Captain s'Ilancy was somewhat in on the joke.

The Captain opened the door to T'yeellaa's quarters, and the K'ohta'rrou took stock. The furnishings were spartan. Even by the lowered expectations she'd acclimated herself to from her new life aboard a former Imperial space station. At least her quarters on Jovan had a common area, kitchenette, and a bed large enough to sleep two. No wonder Samus hadn't invited her aboard earlier. Still, these were the accomodations the Captain afforded her. T'yeellaa imagined that the junior officers and non-comms likely had even less. Possibly as little as a cot and a footlocker. There was no way that she was going to treat this with less than the utmost gratitude.

"Morre than ssuffjicjient, rrou'a." T'yeellaa affirmed with a crisp nod.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There were sometimes instances where she allowed herself the indulgence to test the airs around her. It was as much olfactory as it was simple feeling. And as Samus had so bravely held out before, she knew that T'yeellaa was doing the same. Though, it was more a curious lilt to the eddies she felt around them. Less striking in a way, but still as much there. Ushering her guest further in, the Captain allowed the door to close, shutting them both away from the rest of the ship.

Both hands came together then, fingers twining together as she stared unblinking into the K'ohta'rrou's blue eyes.

"I do not care where you choose to spend your evenings, T'yeellaa," there was a quiet note of understanding in her voice. Gone were the tones of a Captain. Now the two were simply women with nothing to distinguish either.

"I know you're capable, and I trust you. Kes has spoken highly of your abilities, and I know he speaks the truth. As well," not exactly a rueful chuckle, but more an acknowledgement, "Samus has vouched for you."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa knew where things were going the moment the door closed behind them. A candid discussion she knew would be addressed at some point. It didn't mean she looked forward to it.

"Captajin," She started off, course-correcting with a brief and polite smile, "jI apprrecjiate the efforrt to accomodate me, but jit'ss harrdljy necesssarrjy. jI know jit'ss not a ssecrret that Commanderr Dage and jI arre jinvolved, but we have both made the decjissjion that jit wjill not jimpact ejitherr of uss prrofesssjionalljy. That'ss a sstance jI sstood bjy on Jovan, and jI'll sstand bjy jit herre asss well."

Pausing, the K'ohta'rrou's ears perked slightly.

"Though jI am glad to hearr that Commanderr Akjiena and Commanderr Dage both vouch forr me."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"You should be."

There was a small bit of satisfaction that shone in her eye as the Lupine stared at T'yeellaa. The other woman was steadfast in her determination to remain professional, even in the face of their solitude. It was heartening, and cemented the words of both Kes and Samus in her mind.

But, there was still the same strange bit of stiffness that dotted her attempts to be cordial outside of her rank. It was a curse, she supposed; to be forever burdened by the inability to fully commit herself to anything but a stilted, approachable individual. It plagued her now despite the efforts she was taking.

"I am... no good at being personable. Never had the talent for it, really. But, I do know that for as much as people and circumstances change, each stay equally the same."

The 'I'm trying to be nice' was left unspoken.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"That would appearr to make two of uss, then." T'yeellaa admitted, her ears lowering a little.

Maybe she should take this aside as the opportunity it was presented as - the chance to live life outside the uniform. T'yeellaa usually told anyone who pressed that her standoffishness was simply a product of the Navy, but that wasn't quite true. Worse, she suspected that Captain s'Ilancy knew it. She had been a Jedi, after all.

"Old habjitss, rrou'a. The Navjy doess encourrage jyou to pack ljight when jit comess to perrssonal matterrss, but jI thjink jI've grrown to prreferr that at all tjimess. Betterr to be a K'ohta'rrou than to be a Meorrrei."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a deep understanding in the sentiment that was uttered, and s'Il found herself in much the same situation as T'yeellaa. In a way, it was surprising. But, at the same time it was not. She knew that Taataani's children each held unique gifts and attributes; some stayed close, and others struck out to find their own ways in the galaxy.

She nodded.

"I may have less of a mother's name over me, but there are... other things that loom just the same." It was a private admission that she chose to give now.

"It is better to be Alliance rather than a Jedi."

Her brow pinched then, as she pursed her lips in remembrance of her recent days at the Meorrrei Matron's villa. Everything there had been - despite her initial misgivings and few spots of uncomfortable moments - something so wonderfully unexpected. It had seemed to breath new life into her.

"But, that being said, one cannot ignore the good that those larger names do manage to bring forth amidst the chaos they inevitably or unintentionally create."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The equivocation that Captain s'Ilancy offered elicited a raised eyebrow. T'yeellaa removed her officer's cap, a small visible token that she was attempting the game of being personable. The motion revealed her platinum hair, sharply parted and drawn in a bun at the base of her neck. She tucked her cap under an arm.

"jI've neverr had rreasson to trrusst the Jedji Orrderr. jI wass verrjy jyoung durrjing the warr, but old enough to hearr the sstorrjiess. Majybe thejy arre jaundjiced bjy a vanqujisshed perrsspectjive. jYou'rre the onljy Jedji jI've met, sso forr what jit'ss worrth, jyou've challenged mjy prreconceptjionss."

The K'ohta'rrou's eyes diverted momentarily to the deck.

"jI'm told that Jedji can rread a perrsson'ss thoughtss. jIss that trrue?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her hands shifted then, coming apart momentarily before shifting to find themselves once more at the small of her back.

"Jedi are... like any other people. They have strengths and weaknesses, and are just as accountable to their failings as every person in this galaxy. Some have particular gifts for diplomacy; some for war. Others are empathic and have great abilities in understanding the thoughts of others. I am not one of those. I can feel base notions and emotions, but that is all. Acute intentions are beyond me."

She found herself somewhat curious over the question.

"My talents were more for the martial disciplines, and my Master kept me focused largely on those. About the closest I can come to divining a person's precise thoughts is in battle."

A slight, rueful laugh.

"Master Windu called it Battle Meditation. Back then though, I called it frustrating."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

What s'Ilancy said fell on disappointed ears. T'yeellaa hoped that the Jedi somehow tapped into a code within her mother that no one else had been able to break. That she'd associated with her because she knew her motivations and intentions were wholly good-spirited. The reality turned out to be rather pedestrian. The Jedi were like any other people, alright. Loklorien s'Ilancy couldn't crack acute intentions. Unfortunately, her mother kept those locked airtight in a vault.

"jI have no doubt that jyou arre a grreat warrrjiorr and leaderr. The Battle of Osssuss sspeakss forr jitsself."

Placating words, and T'yeellaa gave them with an affirming nod.

"Even jif jit djidn't, jI'd hearr no end of jit frrom Rrou'fai and Arr'uhai aljike. Mjy brrotherr thjinkss jyou can walk on waterr."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

To hear such words made her smile then, and s'Il bowed her head in a slight bit of embarrassment.

"When your brother first met me, I was very close to birthing my first child. As such, I was in a very different state of existence than the one I'm in now."

The 'now' was a life so far removed from when Sanis had landed on Cathar with the burly, barrel-chested Cizerack tagalong at his heels.

"Cirr is perhaps the most honest and loyal person I know."

Pursing her lips, she let her broken gaze lock with T'yeellaa's own eyes.

"Ossus would not have been won without him."

A moment of thought, as she considered the woman who stood before her. For all of Taataani's flowery words and grand gestures, there was something to be said for her cubs; particularly the ones that had forged into such new territory.

"But, it is not just Cirr who has... " she paused, trying to find the right wording.

"... gone beyond what was expected."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Talk about Cirrsseeto made T'yeellaa think about the first time she'd confronted him about his service - during the Jovan hostage crisis. She hadn't been prepared to deal with the notion that her brother had become almost a completely different person. The very thought that he'd signed up to dance on that razor's edge filled her at first with a sense of shame and failure. In her mind, she still saw herself as his protector, and he still needed protecting. Going from that to the feeling that he not only didn't need her - that he surpassed her - it filled her with a lot of misplaced resentment. It was an awful thought, but if the hostage crisis didn't happen, they may never have reconciled at all.

"jI have a larrge famjiljy full of ambjitjiouss, vajin, powerrful, and manjipulatjive ssjibljingss, Captajin. Cirrsseeto posssesssess few Meorrrei vjirrtuess. He'ss betterr becausse of jit."

Then s'Ilancy turned the discussion to an unexpected implication.

"What do jyou mean?" T'yeellaa asked, somewhat guardedly. Her ears cocked slightly askew as she tried to tease out the Captain's words.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was a thin smile that turned up one corner of her mouth.

"You don't give yourself enough credit."

For as long as she had known Taataani Meorrrei, s'Il knew also that the matron cast a very long shadow. For those that strove to emerge from it, it was a difficult battle. But not insurmountable. T'yeellaa Meorrrei had done just that whether she realized it or not, and even if she had thought her assignment to Jovan Station a setback, the truth of the matter was exactly the opposite.

"The position that you are in now is one that will only take you closer to being remembered for you, and not your name."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jI'm glad that jyou thjink sso."

T'yeellaa's expression turned wistful. She wasn't ungrateful for the sentiment, but was the former Jedi being naive? She'd lashed out againt her mother the instant she found out she was to be posted to Jovan, because it was certainly the Rrou'fai's doing. And in doing so, Taataani simply pointed out that her daughter certainly had ambition to match her namesake. It would never be enough for Taataani's eldest to simply take up the mantle. She expected T'yeellaa to surpass her, just as she'd done to become the matriarch herself.

Still, T'yeellaa resisted. She tried to manifest herself as a repudiation of her mother's manipulation and double-dealing. Some days it felt like victory. Other days? It felt like she was just putting off the inevitable. So where did that leave her? Her career? Samus?

"jI wonderr jif mjy motherr thought the ssame wajy when sshe wass jyoungerr. Therre'ss a ssajyjing among Cizerack, Captajin. A trrue Rrou'fai doessn't jinhejirrjit the tjitle. Thejy take jit. Mjy grrandmotherr jiss sstjill aljive. jI can tell jyou that sshe djidn't passs the mantle to mjy motherr out of the goodnesss of herr hearrt. But sshe'ss harrdljy a vjictjim. Sshe ssowed herr undojing herrsself.

Sso that'ss funnjy, ne? All jI've prroven jiss that jI can beat the oddss. All jI've done jiss prrove mjy motherr rrjight. Who'ss to ssajy that one dajy jI won't turrn that ambjitjion agajinsst herr and prrove jI'm a Meorrrei afterr all?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

For a few quiet moments, s'Il held T'yeellaa's gaze. The was curiosity in her eye, as well as a small glimmer of probing interest.

"You speak of all these things that are expected of you or one in your position; but what is it that you want?"

A simple question on the surface that held a myriad of complexity beneath.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

What did she want?

The first thing on her tongue nearly blurted out - command of Haifa'Iro'Iro again. But as much as she loved the ship, that wasn't the answer. Nor was the answer to command a larger ship. Those were points on a line she was currently walking. Mother had said that Jovan station would be a posting to attract a great deal of attention. Attention that would take her places.

Was that it? Ambition for it's own sake? She wasn't that shallow, so what was it?

"Wjith all due rresspect, rrou'a? jI want to be the one gjivjing jyou orrderrss. Thjiss jiss the path jI've taken, and jI want to go asss farr asss jI can and know jI djid jit mjysself."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was an answer that caused an honest smile to finally show itself, and the Lupine afforded her guest a respectful nod.

"Remember that, and it will one day happen."

Taking a shifting step back, she opened the door and retreated back out into the corridor.

"And when it does, I will serve as faithfully as I always have."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

There was a faint smile on T'yeellaa's face as she watched Captain s'Ilancy leave. She hadn't salved her with a saccharine platitude. She'd left the K'ohta'rrou with her own justification as her road map.

"Captajin..."

She seated her cap back squarely on her head.

"Perrmjisssjion to jinsspect the brrjidge?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A moment of thought was ended agreement.

"Of course."

[Q. Samus Dage]

* * *

The bridge was a quiet place for the time being. With both the Captain and KHER gone, it seemed almost ghostly, even. Oh, there was the normal chatter going on at muted levels, but something was missing that was - well, it was rather obvious.

Samus Dage sat in the Captain's chair, sifting through the contents of a datapad as Mr. Rahgus made his final telemetry reports with Jovan Command. Everything normal, everything standard and much as they'd been the last time they'd been through.

Scrolling past a few of the report titles, Samus idly tapped the uppermost subject line and set about skimming over its' contents.

"Clearance to begin our exit trajectory, Commander."

"Mm."

The Farguhl knew Dage well enough to understand his permission had been given to continue, and Rahgus gripped the control throttles as he pulled the slightly back. Comfortable in the pilot's nest, he went about bringing them about, setting his course and waiting for KHER to finish plotting the course for their next jump.

"Looks like we'll be a few more minutes until the jump."

"Mm."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa found her way to the bridge unaccompanied. No need for a hand-holding tour, the K'ohta'rrou had long-since made due diligence a part of her life as a naval officer. New ship? That meant knowing where everything was found, backwards and forward. Even though Khera'va'ssio was only a temporary post, T'yeellaa certainly wasn't going to embarrass herself by asking a junior officer for something as simple as directions.

All backs were to her as she entered the room, which suited T'yeellaa just fine. She strolled up to stand just behind the captain's chair.

"Ourr courrsse jiss sset forr Teloss?" She asked, more rhetorically than anything. It was the best way to announce her presence. T'yeellaa resisted the urge to look to the man in the chair, keeping her eyes fixed ahead at passing space.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"That it is," came the easy rumble as his eyes continued their inspections of the report he was currently engrossed in. It was all much the same, and with a sigh he lowered the 'pad down to perch it atop one leg. A thin-lipped expression graced his features, brow slightly pinched as his eyes moved up to take in the view before them. Despite the mundane appearance, Samus was focused on making sure that their time before the jump was as it should be. He was doing what he knew best, and felt at home. T'yeellaa's presence was a welcome addition, though both of them knew that just because they were together for this little mission did not necessarily mean they were free to act as they wished. Each had a job to perform. Though, in a strange bit of reflection, he realized that this was the first time that she had seen him, well, actually doing his job.

"Should be a few more minutes before we enter hyperspace. KHER is finishing his calculations."

"We're past the jump boundaries for Jovan, Sir," Rahgus didn't even bother to look back as he spoke, and instead kept his attentions forward.

Leaning forward, the blonde rested an elbow on the armrest while twisting his upper body around to look at the K'ohta'rrou.

"If the K'ohta'rrou wishes," his free hand moved to gesture toward the shallow stairway that led up to the viewscreen walkway, "... she is more than welcome to give herself a front row view for when we jump."

A brief wink was snuck in.

"It's a nice view."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

He wore the chair well.

It was an on-the-fly assessment, and T'yeellaa couldn't help but evaluate him on even the smallest detail. Of course, why wouldn't he? He'd commanded a frigate before this posting, with combat action notched on his jacket to boot. In comparison, the only combat T'yeellaa had was from border interdiction - battling flea-bitten pirates and slavers along the Thalassian frontier.

The very frontier they were now heading towards.

While the frontier was now a portion of the larger border between Alliance and Imperial space, it had just a few years ago been claimed by the Empire in it's entirety. Of course, there was claiming and there was enforcing, and the Empire didn't see much value in deploying their star destroyers to deal with criminals who were more interested in focusing their depredations on Cizeri ships. Piracy flourished in the gap between Imperial interest and Cizeri reach. Now, with the so-called peace in effect, the pirates of the Thalassian frontier were squeezed by one side on one day, and used as proxies by the same side the next. Neither side had spent a great deal of effort in putting the problem to rest entirely. The calculus may have made sense to someone like her mother, but to T'yeellaa and other officers of the line, it was irritating.

The K'ohta'rrou snapped out of that particular drudgery, putting her critical eyes at ease, so that instead of treacherous star systems, she could see beauty. Gai'tou was, even in a Captain's chair, a pure romantic.

"A vjiew frrom the brrjink, Commanderr?" Her ears perked.

"jIssn't that morre of an jImperrjial tendencjy to sstand sso farr ahead on the deck?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

A single eyebrow rose in answer, and he held a smirk at bay.

"Sometimes a view is just a view."

Finally he allowed a bit of a smile to peek through.

"I highly doubt anyone here would accuse you of being too Imperial if you chose to indulge. Captain s'Ilancy does it often enough as is."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Then jI wjill deferr to the Captajin'ss conventjion."

What went unsaid was T'yeellaa's belief that the best seat in the house was indeed a seat. From a distance in the Captain's chair, you tended to find perspective. Still, this was a voyage of firsts. Gloved hands clasped behind her back, T'yeellaa ascended the trio of steps to the forward catwalk.

Beneath her feet, the telltale vibrations of course correcting maneuvering jets went quiet. The ever-so-slight changes of pitch in the starfield became as still as a painting. On Samus's word, next would come a thrum of spooling power, then the brilliant starburst of hyperlight.

She couldn't pretend to be that nonchalant. It was always a beautiful sight.

[Q. Samus Dage]

Moments after they entered hyperspace, Dage rose to his feet. He moved to the pilot's nest, standing beside it with a strangely satisfied look on his face. The kaleidoscope of pinwheeling starlines was always beautiful, and he never tired of watching the spectacle.

"What's our time in the lane look like."

Rahgus peeled his own eyes away from the viewscreen to study the holographic readout resting just beyond the left control throttle.

"Looks like a few hours. Three and a some change."

"Fair enough," he pushed away from the nest, moving toward the stairs. Up and onto the walkway, the Commander approached the K'ohta'rrou, his hands clasped behind him as his lips held a smirk. He stopped beside her, and turned his eyes to display cartwheeling before them.

"He's a warship, but at least he offers a good view, yes?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

There was a lot more that she wanted to say in that moment. Riding on a feather in the winds of hyperlight was more than just a view. T'yeellaa had once been a Suun'da'rrou - a Captain of the Trade Navy. Her transition to K'ohta'rrou was the necessary one step back for the promise of three steps forward, but she couldn't give a damn what they called her when the day was done. She missed this. The life on a ship. The sense that where it moved, so did you. It was more than the literal. Moving light years was insignificant to where your heart could go. This was freedom.

Samus was looking at her. Well, he was looking at the hyperlight vortex, but she knew that he was paying just as much attention to her in the peripheral. What she wouldn't give to have a clear bridge. To share a kiss, alone save for ten billion stars moving by too quick to get a good look.

"When jI wass a cub, jI'd look jinto hjyperrljight and bljink."

T'yeellaa demonstrated, snapping her eyes open and shut in quick procession.

"jI'd trrjy to bljink sso fasst that the lasst thjing jI mjight ssee beforre the black mjight be a ssjingle pojint of ljight."

Her tail swayed close to Samus, pausing just away from the calf of his right leg, as if there was a forcefield of impropriety preventing further incursion.

"jIt'ss alwajyss sseemed to me that therre'ss morre to the maelsstrrom than jusst sstarrss. Jusst ljike Tu'aa Hyeeiaali jiss morre than jusst the pajint on the canvass."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"It's freedom."

A simple enough answer for him. Dage had been a country rube on Myomar, growing up with his best friend Marlon Kori and spending days maintaining grain sifters and herding livestock. It was idyllic in a way, but it was... sameness. There had never been the ability to go beyond. No way to break free from the normal everyday life of... exactly what had been done each day before. But then, Dan Thrule had come along. He'd had a young, sour-looking Jedi survivor with him, and both had promised hope. They'd not promised survival, but they had brought the strange, unspoken notion that there was more. More than the same. More than the ho-hum of maintaining sifters and watching over herds.

"It's a promise of more to see and more to know."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Like he'd stolen the words off her tongue. It wasn't that she and Samus were alike in every way. It just happened to be that they hit the same notes when they mattered. The rest was just harmony. She knew the context of freedom he was talking about. He never talked much about the one bantha world he was from, but T'yeellaa knew well enough that he couldn't shake it off his boots fast enough.

In the cool flicker of blue light, he looked handsome and thoughtful. The lines on his face didn't age him so much as told a story, and she never got tired of reading it. And she'd turned a page to a new chapter, finally able to see Commander Dage in his element. Confident, self-assured, mastering rapport with his crew.

"jI alwajyss hated to rreljinqujissh the conn. jI ussed to alwajyss put off mjy rreljief forr asss long asss posssjible. Everrjythjing frrom herre feelss ljike jit alwajyss ought to. Even on a bad dajy."

[KHER]

* * *



Master Jedi, I assure you that we have plenty of time to discuss the particulars of this Code of yours. We'll not be arriving at Telos for another three hours, twenty-seven minutes, and zero-four-one seconds. That is more than enough for you to explain the inconsistencies.

KHER had found the old Jedi easily, cornering the poor man with insistent curiosity. He towered over Zem easily enough as the two now found themselves sharing a lift. Well, the MMU had more or less imposed himself rather than ask to accompany; after all, Master Vymes was aboard his larger half. It was within his rights to engage in questioning the validity of a creed if he so desired. And right now, with the Captain's round about blessing, KHER had done his level best to pry an answer from the Jedi. There was no getting an answer from the Captain - he'd tried often enough and each time she simply deflected or actively ignored him.

I have studied your Creed and analyzed it to the best of my ability, but whatever wisdom is said to be held... I have yet to understand it.

[Zem Vymes]

"The inconsistencies?" Zem asked, mildly perturbed yet unsurprised. This had all the makings of a setup. He wasn't exactly fond of Loklorien's droid avatar, but it was mostly a harmless annoyance. It was probably best to humor the thing for a few minutes before making his way to the bridge.

[KHER]

It holds direct contradictions of itself. This is detrimental to its' effectiveness.

If droids could blink, KHER would've done just that as slowly as possible.

Would it not be better for the Jedi on the whole if their Code gave a singular message?

[Zem Vymes]

"I'd expect a machine to ask that kind of question." Zem replied with a pinch of genteel sass as he crossed his arms.

"The Jedi Order isn't trying to make a homogeneous product. This isn't widgets. What you see as direct contradictions is ambiguity in a living document that a lot of folks spend a lot of time thinking on. It's the journey to suss that out which helps a Jedi to grow."

[KHER]

But if the message was clear from the beginning, then there would be no need for the Jedi to think on such things. Would that not be preferable?

This need for vagaries confounded him, and his processors could make neither head nor tail of it.

It seems that the simple act of existence has enough ambiguity. Why include it in your creed?

[Zem Vymes]

Blasted contraption. Zem's expression turned slightly pinched. This was all Lok's fault, turning her infernal machine loose on him.

"The force runs through life. There's not one without the other, that's why. Even if you could put it down to something cold and analytical like you're suggesting, that implies that what it means to know the force and to live is stuck like a fly in amber. But that's not how it works. We evolve in mind and spirit just like our flesh evolves."

Zem shifted his feet, looking for a gap in the hallway which he might be able to pass the droid by. It tended to loom and take up space.

"I got a feeling that you've got a glimmer in that thing that's supposed to be one of your eyes, so I'll tell you what. Why don't you go ahead and calculate out a creed that sums up the Jedi experience without all of the...contradictions, like you say. You've got as much data as you need, no need to go spoiling the soup with all those feelings, right? If you manage to hit the nail on the head, analytically-speaking, I might just put your suggestion up for consideration as a new creed."

[KHER]

Now this was a task that the Captain had never given to him or even recommended. It was enticing and ultimately the temptation proved to great, even for him. His head tipped to the side ever so slightly as processors worked unseen. The notion of stripping away the vagaries of the Jedi Creed was a challenging one, but something that he felt able to accomplish. His age gave him sufficient tools for parsing and compartmentalizing each nuance while at the same time evaluating its' usefulness.

Yes. This would be acceptable.

I will accept this task, Master Jedi.

Sidestepping only slightly, KHER allowed just enough room for Vymes to move past him and out from the lift. The Jedi was two paces past him when he spoke once more.

The Captain is in her office, no doubt reviewing the revised mission parameters that were received ten minutes previous.

[Zem Vymes]

Zem glanced back in a heartbeat of hesitation. The droid was being uncharacteristically intuitive and helpful. There was always a fine line with KHER between intuitive and creepy, but maybe he'd given the automaton a shiny enough bauble to play with that the droid's normal odious behavioral quirks were momentarily suppressed.

"Thank you, KHER."

With that, Vymes made his escape. Then he paused. Revised parameters? It was a small word that sometimes portended big things. Not willing to let the matter go to introspection and stay there, Zem headed directly for the source. Lok's office was just a stroll down the hall. Zem pinged the chime.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The door whisked aside with a pneumatic hiss, revealing an office that was in a state of flux. Parts were tidy and bare, while others had packing crates topped with papers. Old parts manuals were stacked in one corner, and a bookshelf along a side wall held datapads and folders alike. A desk, set towards the back, was also littered with 'pads and other documents. And behind it sat a rather disgruntled looking s'Il.

She held a 'pad loosely in hand, lowering it only a fraction as her eye cast up to her guest.

A moment later she let the 'pad down fully, setting it carefully atop a small pile of flimsis while sitting up. The concerned thoughtfulness in her gaze was replaced by a curiousness at his unexpected arrival.

"I was not expecting a visit."

[Zem Vymes]

"Well hello to you as well."

Zem moved through the threshold, letting the door glide shut behind him. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

"I'm just ducking that droid of yours."

He surveyed the scene. It was organized chaos - classic Lok. He didn't dare question the method, because nobody else had to know where to find things, only her. Of course, she had that look on her face like a stormcloud that was simply drawing back, but not going away. Probably not his fault, but more to blame on the reading material.

"Bad news?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

That he was doing his best to avoid KHER was unsurprising. Most on board did just the same. Not everyone was lucky enough to evade the droid for too long, but it never stopped them from trying.

She leaned back in her seat as he approached. There was no need to bid him to sit - he knew the invitation was ever-present.

"More... frustrating than bad."

There was a certain amount of curiosity at what KHER might've done to him, but for now such questions were best left unasked. Now was not the time.

"It seems that a large group from the Children of the Pure Republic are already on Telos, demanding that the refugees be sent back. Some nonsense about how if the Alliance lets in more Kaleesh, we'll be letting in another General Grievous."

The Lupine made a face at the absurd thought.

[Zem Vymes]

"Another Grievous? They must be joking."

But Zem knew they weren't. Old fears ran deep, resurfacing down the road and in strange places. General Grievous was as much an ambassador for his race as Emperor Palpatine was for humans, but the Kaleesh weren't exactly galactic wayfarers. Most had probably not seen a second member of the species, so their opinion was jaundiced by the grotesque cybernetic warlord.

"So what does it matter what they think?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Because they've amassed enough of a following that Senator Therikai has thrown in tentative support for them."

The thought that an Alliance senator would even consider such a thing was a bizarre one, even despite the stigma that Grievous had cast upon his own people. But the fact of the matter remained, and now they had a Senator that was teetering on the edge of the very basis of the Alliance's existence.

"Apparently the good Senator has found himself agreeing with The Children of the Pure Republic on enough points that he traveled to Telos himself. He's been there since yesterday morning."

[Zem Vymes]

"Ah, politics."

A look of weary sympathy. They both remembered a time when they served at the behest of the Old Republic and it's democratic Senate. It often put the Jedi at cross purposes with the democracy they safeguarded, and weathering the storm of that disagreement took integrity. Now, Zem was a Jedi no longer beholden to the government of the Republic, and Lok was an Alliance captain who...still was.

"Has anything officially changed with the orders?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Outwardly? No."

It was the subtext though, that was the damning bit. That bit of unspoken warning to quell fears, smooth the cracks, and make sure the mission was completed without incident that went without saying. It would have been one thing if those opposed to this relocation were the only ones making noise. That they were beginning to have success in tugging on the ear of a senator was something else entirely, and called for delicate footsteps.

"It's the finer points that are changing. We have to be careful - not for any physical reasons, but the Alliance doesn't want an... incident."

She gave a scowl to the 'pad still resting atop the flimsis.

"It's bad enough that protests are already happening. If something happens to escalate the situation, then our position will be called into question."

[Zem Vymes]

"So step lightly so we don't cause an incident that gives cause to the paranoia."

Zem ran a hand through his hair, coaxing errant strands back into shape.

"Well, that doesn't seem so different to things we've done before. We both know how to toe the line. We go in, we get these kids, and we get them to a better place. And if we do it fast enough, get get in under the radar of the bigots and the pot-stirrers."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Back in the day something like that might've worked, but now... now not so much. For him the ability to do as he described was easy enough, but for her? There was a certain amount of proper behavior that was expected of an Alliance captain.

"Well, 'we' won't be able to do such, sadly. You hands may not be shackled, as I think the saying goes, but mine certainly are. The Senator would be an ignorant fool if he was not aware we were en route. No; he knows, and he will expect nothing but formalities from me."

The truth of it was sobering for the simple fact that the years had placed her in such a position that kept her from doing things the much more simple way.

"That's not to say that... others cannot accompany you, however."

[Zem Vymes]

Well that sounded familiar. Zem formed a wry smile.

"Pass the baton down the chain of command, huh? That's risky. What's your spin?"

And there would be spin, certainly. Even in the Clone Wars, you learned how to operate in the letter, if not the spirit, at times. He'd taken care of more than a few edicts from the Council that were blurring the lines to a degree.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Well."

She leaned back in her seat, arms propping up on the armrests. Staring across the divide that her desk created, the Lupine watched him with a wistful look. As though she wanted to be that person; the one who would accompany him. And it was the truth - the wish for the simplicity of those older days was strong. Those days when you jumped out in front of the gravtrain with only one thought... to do the right thing. It was a time when most consequences were damned and the Cause was what mattered most.

Well, mattered second. For her, he had always come first since their time on Pakuuni. Their home.

Though, that was then, and this was now. At the very least, he was unburdened of the weights that she still carried. But there were others aboard that had more leash, and she was ready to allow them as much line as she could.

"Being that I cannot go with you, I think it best that you are joined by those who are not so held back."

Her eyes shifted to the side then, staring at a sidewall for only a moment before returning to him.

"Commander Dage and K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei will be adequate, I think."

There was a slight moment of hesitation before her last choice left her lips.

"And KHER."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem visibly tensed at the last inclusion, letting out a sigh.

"Sometimes I think you make me interact with it on purpose."

He knew that the droid was effectively joined with the ship at the hip, and that it's usefulness was a major asset at Lok's disposal. Still, he didn't have to like it. Shifting his stance the Jedi Master decided to leave that sore point of contention to the side.

"So I go with your second and your liaison to handle this. You realize there will be hell to pay when word gets out, right?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a knowing glint in her eye as she stared at him, and with a henh, the Lupine gave a slight shake of her head.

"Not necessarily."

It was true that what she hoped they would accomplish would be the safe evacuation of the Kaleesh refugees, but there were gentle ways of doing these sorts of things; she'd spent enough time with Dan to know that there were always... interpretations to be had.

"You and the others are going in the capacity of observers. You represent the Jedi at this point in time, and despite what some may say, you all still have a healthy amount of pull. Your concerns on the matter will carry weight enough I think, to give the Senator a bit of pause."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem shoved his fingers beneath the belt of his tunic, resting them there in contemplation as he fixed upon a spot on the floor.

"Seems to me that the Senator would be eager to pass the hot tuber to the Jedi, given that Ossus is a sanctuary world and not a member of the Alliance. Of course, it's not exactly that simple."

To put it mildly. The Jedi's relocation on the relic sanctuary world was met by tension from the Ysanna tribes. The arrival of the Gossam diaspora as refugees sparked that tension into brief violence. Even if this Senator passed each refugee into the Jedis' waiting arms, it was far short of a sure thing on Ossus.

"But I suppose I still remember how to be an observer. You can count on me."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I know that I can," she smiled gently.

She stared at him for a moment longer before lifting a hand to run fingers through her hair. It had been let down, as she hadno official meetings to attend for now, and cascaded over her shoulders.

"We still have a few hours before the drop," a look was sent to one of the side tables at her left. It held a stack of flimsis topped with a half-full decanter and three glasses.

"You're free to rest or meditate... "

She looked back to him.

"... or you can stay and share a drink with me?"

[Zem Vymes]

He grinned.

"Hopefully without alcohol today. I had a fantastic time on Carshoulis, but I think any more debauchery this week and I might become a wreck."

Zem sat, perfectly at ease to have Lok's company alone be his beverage of choice.

"It still feels like we're caught in the whirlwind. I don't want to blink."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She had already poured the first glass; a finger's full. It was nothing ostentatious or as grand as what had been had at Taataani Meorrrei's villa; rather, it was the simple pure flavors of a liquor that matched the needs of spacefarers.

"This isn't debauchery," a gentle smile as she replaced the stopper. She would still respect his wishes.

"This is simply enjoying something... simple before the eve of something much more complicated."

[Zem Vymes]

The old Jedi Master's smile was contented. He made a small wave of deferment with a hand.

"I'm taking my enjoyment, make no mistake. More than my fair share."

Even in something as simple as time shared with Lok s'Ilancy was fulfilling and sustaining beyond compare. If ever he'd taken such moments for granted in the past, Zem was making up for being remiss.

"So as for my accompaniment planetside..." He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat a little, "anything I should know? I'm not playing chaperone, am I?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Returning to her own seat, the Lupine let herself lean back, her glass held a hair's breadth from the top of her desk in a halfway loose grip.

She let out a sigh, and allowed a rueful gaze meet his eyes.

"I certainly hope you aren't."

The humor was apparent, but she couldn't help the gentle smile that followed all the same.

"I trust Samus, and I'm fairly confident that K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei can maintain her professionalism. She was a Captain in the Pride Navy before being reassigned, and I've full faith in her."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem gave a measured nod.

"Good enough for me, then."

He couldn't help but imagine the curious parallels between the Commander and K'ohta'rrou and him and Lok. He smiled.

"When do we head out?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"We've still some time before we drop to realspace," spoken with a curt tone as she lifted her glass to her lips, taking a sip.

"So, I would imagine once the formalities included in introductions and shuttle trips are seen to, then we may consider ourselves 'headed out'."

The glass was set down, then gently turned about in a circle by an idle thumb and forefinger.

"I remember a story that you once told me," her eye stared at her drink, memories taking her back to older times. Nothing so ancient as when they were both so soon after their escape from the Temple during tthe Purge, but a time that was considerably more recent. And yet at the same time, it held the same connotations of unfortunate happenings.

"It was about a bird that built nests, hoping to have a home for its' eggs. but each time that it built a nest it did not lay a single egg. At least, I think that is how it went. Either way, there came a year when the bird did not build a nest because it gave up on having an egg to place inside."

She still remembered the state of him during the telling, at least. Shut away in a detention cell aboard Dauntless with little hope of freedom. And it had been because of her.

Finally, her eye shifted upward to meet his own gaze.

"But you... you never gave up the hope of having that egg."

Her voice became soft, then.

"You have built a home, on Ossus."

A ghostly smile.

"What is it like?"

[Zem Vymes]

Zem concealed the smile as best he could, but he was happy to turn the topic literally home. Loklorien's memory was long and unerring. She'd curated an old parable over decades, finding wisdom in it that even he couldn't fully imagine at the time. Or maybe he'd seen, but not fully comprehended?

The Jedi Master leaned back in his seat, breaking eye contact as he turned slightly wistful.

"It's a home for a Jedi."

He met Lok's eyes with a kind softness, upturning the corners of his mouth.

"Modest. Humble. Nothing more than a man needs. Nothing more than a family needs. I didn't ask for a bit more, and I doubt the Pride Marines would be inclined to build more than that anyway."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a small bit of surprised amusement that caused a lifting of a single eyebrow.

"The Marines... built it."

Another sip, as she let that bit of information sink in. It was not entirely out of the ordinary, but it wasn't exactly what she'd expected, either.

"Seems rather nice of them. Unless they were just tired of looking at that old tent."

[Zem Vymes]

"Your daughter was tired of looking at that old tent," Zem quipped, leaning forward with a grin. "All it took was her convincing me, and me convincing Major Verratoa. At first, she more or less told me to go pound sand, but then..."

He winked.

"...well, lets just say I convinced her that the civil corps had already given me a quote on a completion timeframe. That lit a fire under her."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was a strange look that she now gave him, and s'Il couldn't help the eventual good-natured half-grimace that fell over her features.

"You've a way of getting people to do things, I will give you that."

Which was nothing to say for Teagan's apparent knack for doing the same, as was evidenced by the revelation of a home, and how it had been upon her insistence, according to him.

"It was not something that I expected to hear, when you first spoke of it," words spoken quietly as she let her eye fall to the glass. Thumb and forefinger drew still of their turning, and she turned a wistful gaze up to meet his own eyes.

"I hope that I will one day be able to see it."

[Zem Vymes]

"You will." Zem nodded with assuredness. "Sooner, rather than later."

The Jedi Master rose from his seat, leaning over the table to kiss Lok on the cheek.

"And I'll be there with you when you do."

[Q. Samus Dage]

* * *

2 Hours Until Drop



"It's all fairly routine. We generally stick to our side of the sandbox unless something unfortunate crops up; like Manaan."

The two made their way through the spartan corridor's of the old Lupine ship. Turning a bend here, rounding a corner there. It wasn't exactly a maze, but the two didn't seem to have a real destination in mind, either. Out of habit, Samus was leading them in a somewhat winding path towards his own quarters without fully realizing it. Everything seemed rote and ingrained, with the act of thinking about where his next steps would take them. With both hands folded at the small of his back, the rangy blonde cut a familiar figure in those bare corridors.

"Which, truthfully Manaan was more an anomaly. Course, when you're dealing with the Empire, those sorts of things do tend to happen with a fair bit of annoyance."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jIt'ss a sstalemate," T'yeellaa added, not contradicting Dage's view on the situation as they meandered in close passageways. "Thejy want to brreak jit. We want to brreak jit. Nejitherr of uss want to brreak jit all the wajy to wjide open warr."

They'd been given leave to rest and prepare for shore duty. The K'ohta'rrou had expected a briefing, but when one didn't immediately materialize, she did the next best thing on her priority list - she followed gai'tou. She still hadn't quite lost the grin off her face from watching him at a position of command. Okay, some of that was jealousy, but it was good and benign jealousy for the most part. The remainder of that feeling was a lot more complicated than she was willing to unpack while in uniform.

"Sstjill, jit all feelss verrjy rreactjionarrjy. Rreactjionarrjy jiss wassteful and jit overrcompenssates. Bjy the tjime jyou'rre on tarrget, jyourr tarrget'ss moved on."

She tugged at an ear-tip, catching up a little closer to Samus and angling for an attempt to walk with him two abreast down the walkway.

"jIf jyou assk me, thjiss feelss a bjit ljike the pjirrate and sslaverr campajignss. No enemjy to ssquarre and fjight djirrectljy, and jyou'rre forrced to rredefjine the engagement."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"It's certainly not like it used to be."

Far from some sort of wistful tone, Samus' voice held a measure of relief.

"Which is good in a way. You lose less friends with the frequency that we used to. Unfortunately though, a singular goal tends to gather tangents once you reach a certain point of... respectability."

It was no real secret that there was an underlying sense of disgruntled exacerbation with the way things were now. But, he was not one to overtly complain, and if he sat down and really evaluated where he stood within the Alliance, then - all things considered - it was a good place. Better than if he was still back on Myomar, that was for sure. He would do it all over again if given the chance.

A sideways look down to T'yeellaa.

"Patrolling the border is a nice change from the direct alternative. Might be a few slips here and there, but the funny thing about those Starkillers; they keep both sides from dancin' clean across that line in the sandbox."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"jYeah, untjil ssomeone makess the motherr of all mjisscalculatjionss."

The K'ohta'rrou wore an exaggerated long face, but she wasn't entirely joking. She'd been invited by her mother to witness a test firing of the missile system a few months back. To some extent, she was still unpacking her feelings over it, and that was simply an academic demonstration of the weapon's capability in a confirmed lifeless star system. Even though not even a microbe was in danger, watching a star boil itself out an die before your eyes absolutely had an effect - especially for a Cizerack.

T'yeellaa shook her head slightly, as if to dislodge a moment of existential melancholy. She warmed up the moment with a smile.

"Well, patrrols arre prroactjive and prreventatjive. That'ss good. Contrrol the ssjituatjion accorrdjing to what can be controlled. jI djid plentjy of that comjing up jin the trrade navjy. jIt'ss wholessome, a ljittle borrjing, but jI can thjink of otherr thjingss jI'd rratherr do forr excjitement'ss ssake."

She was going to say something else, but then a crewer rounded the corner, headed towards them in an opposite direction. It caused T'yeellaa to drop back, hugging the wall next to Dage as the junior enlisted passed by. It was an awkward few seconds of shuffle, and K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei spent it with a sabacc face, all the while beating a playful tattoo along Samus's leg.

[Q. Samus Dage]

A nod and half-salute to the crewer that passed by, and it wasn't long before the two were mostly alone once more. They rounded a corner, and the corridor yielded a lift at its' far end.

"Well, at least this little outing will be a break from that 'boring' norm," he couldn't help the crooked smile that turned up one corner of his lips. Her tail hadn't gone entirely unnoticed, but for now he chose to say nothing of it.

"I don't recall us having to play ferry duty in a long while; unless you count the occasional Jedi that we shuttle here and there."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Well, on a galleon, almosst everrjythjing we djid jinvolved ferrrjyjing ssomeone orr ssomethjing."

T'yeellaa wrung her white-gloved hands, and allowed her smile to grow a little.

"But even that...jI mjisss jit."

Not dwelling long in introspection, the K'ohta'rrou stole a glance up at the Commander. She briefly checked over his shoulder, noting no further incoming traffic. Safe for the moment.

"jYou know...jI ljiked sseejing jyou jin that chajirr."

[Q. Samus Dage]

His crooked smile leveled out into a full grin, and Samus reached out to depress the call button for the lift as they drew close enough.

"Really now?"

The lift gave a muted chirp as the doors opened to reveal an empty pod. In gentlemanly deference, the blonde bade she enter first.

"I suppose then, that the way to a woman's heart is through a command chair?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa entered, wise enough not to avoid a deference loop with the manners-minded human. She did, however, pause in the threshold for a moment, blocking his entry as she turned back to face him.

"Orr at leasst asss ssome otherr woman'ss fjirrsst offjicerr."

She made a show of inspecting her claws, pointedly ignoring Samus for a moment as she extended them from her fingerpads. Eventually, she dropped the charade, giving her gai'tou a pointed glance and an ear waggle.

[Q. Samus Dage]

It was a display that he'd not been expecting, but at the ear waggle, Samus couldn't help but stand up a little straighter, a deep breath filling out his chest just a bit more as his shoulders hitched back as if presenting himself at a sort of half attention. One hand lifted though, and he gave her a backwards shove the rest of the way into the lift so that he could gain entrance as well.

"Crew level."

He maintained his stance, with both hands moving to grasp each other at the small of his back as the lift began to move.

"Easy now, K'ohta'rrou," he was more than happy to indulge her with a show of plumage.

"You're in my territories now. Might not be as spacious as Jovan, but it's no less official."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The K'ohta'rrou smirked with enough cool to keep it professional under the collar. A half step forward, however, and she was well within his personal space.

"jYou could be mjy numberr one."

T'yeellaa returned her white cloth glove to her hand. Once done, she hovered a finger just shy of Samus's chest, diverting it to his pips to lightly buff the gold.

"Orr...jI guesss jI could be jyourrss."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He gave a smirk as his eyes followed the path her fingers had taken.

"An interesting thought exercise, I'll give you that."

And it was, but nothing more. He sidestepped just enough so that he could stand beside her, unable to help himself to a gentle half-tug at the tip of her ear.

"I'm fairly certain that you're a royal terror to serve under, Kitten."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

She didn't take the bait of the tugged ear. T'yeellaa kept her officer's cool, shoulders squared to the door of the lift, standing side by side Samus as if he was any other occupant. At his comment, she kept a sabacc face save for a raised brow.

"And jyou, gai'tou, would follow mjy orrderrss about asss well asss a wjild dewback."

So it would be a disaster then. Still it was a delight to imagine. Serving on the same ship as Samus. Sharing the same working space, day in, day out. Everything except the actual chain of command, because just like everything, they were so competitive.

[Q. Samus Dage]

The lift slowed, feathering to a stop a fraction of a second before the doors whisked open, and again Samus gestured for her to take the first step off. Like so many things that'd been drilled into his brain growing up, manners was at the top. Both of his parents had made sure that the Dage children were polite, and there were many times that they'd had to sit through lectures on treating others with respect.

"Perhaps I might," he chuckled.

"My early record of following orders was only so-so. Never was a sterling example back then."

Following a bend in the corridor, Samus gave her a good-natured clap on her shoulder.

"But then again, no one ever heard of a responsible and obedient Rebel."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Forrtunateljy, jyou rrebelled agajinsst a bloated and jinept trranss-galactjic rregjime, and not a leanerr and morre dedjicated one."

T'yeellaa's expression was mock smug, even as she leaned into Samus's affectionate pat.

"Werre jI tassked wjith dealjing wjith a rrebel ljike jyou, jI would have caught jyou."

The section in which T'yeellaa's quarters were located came up around the bend, but the K'ohta'rrou feigned ignorance, opting to walk with Samus wherever he'd lead.

[Q. Samus Dage]

And right on past the door to her temporary quarters he went. Not for intentional purposes, but more because he'd comfortably lost himself in the walk and talk. It was therapeutic in a special sort of way, and the blonde found himself taking advantage of that. How often did he get to stroll through the ship without being pestered by KHER? Or any other of the crew that wanted him for something or other? But now was different, and Samus was determined to use the two hours available for simple relaxation. Nothing strenuous, nothing frustrating, just plain old rest.

"You never saw me back in the day, Kitten."

A sideways half-smile was sent her way as his hand moved from her shoulder, down the length of her arm to take hold of her own. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I wasn't always the nice guy you see now."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Her claws unsheathed as she held his hand, neither applying pressure nor breaking skin, but serving as a gentle and protective cage. T'yeellaa paused, gave her lover a little side-eye, and a mild scoff.

"That sstorrjy mjight worrk on the cadetss, Quentjin, but jyou won't sscarre me sso eassjiljy."

The K'ohta'rrou leaned in close, so that she was side-by-side and touching. He felt warm; inviting.

"Bessjidess, jyourr kjitten once commanded a galleon. Sshe hass sstorrjiess of herr own about sso-called bad bojyss."

The bravado only remained on her face for a moment before T'yeellaa fell into introspection. What was she doing here? Flirting? So openly? It wasn't a secret of course, and while they weren't currently on duty they were in uniform. Where was the line? In front of them, or behind?

[Q. Samus Dage]

"I believe you," Samus extricated his hand from hers then so that he could throw an arm over her shoulders in a bizarre display of almost brotherly affection tinged with something more close-knit.

"Perhaps it's a good thing that we never met from opposite sides."

A small set of two shallow stairs brought them up, and another corner was rounded to reveal another row of doors, these belonging to the more senior command staff. Further along they went, passing each door, it was easy to see that it was a pitiful few; five in all. The second to last door on the left belonged to him, with the last, solitary door at the end of the corridor belonging to the Captain. Slowing to a stop, the blonde gave T'yeellaa a glance.

"It's not as big as yours on Jovan; fair warning."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Mjy quarrterrss on Jovan ussed to belong to an jImperrjial vjice admjirral. jI can learrn to currb mjy enthussjiassm."

She smiled again, but there was that feeling once more. That hesitation, pulling at her. Goddess, why was this so damned complicated. T'yeellaa shifted her feet.

"jYou know, majybe jI sshould prreparre a ssjysstemss rreadjiness rreporrt. jIn casse the Captajin asskss forr one."

It was a feeble attempt at a cop-out, but one that T'yeellaa felt she needed to lodge. This was still a mission, after all.

[Q. Samus Dage]

A single eyebrow arched then, at the strange defense she'd all of a sudden decided to run. It was a small bit unexpected, given her previous behavior just moments before, but it wasn't enough to really confound him. He stayed his hand, moving it from the door release palm scanner to rest on the doorframe.

"Well, if you really think you need to do that, I'll not stop you, I suppose."

He gave a slight shrug.

"Though, usually that sort of thing is taken care of by KHER."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

What was he doing?? He wasn't supposed to agree with her, was he??

Locked into her present course, T'yeellaa didn't pick up her feet. She still waffled at the periphery.

"The drrojid'ss not the experrt, jI am. That'ss whjy jI'm herre, forr mjy experrtjisse jin thesse ssjysstemss."

She looked at him pointedly, wondering if he was still content to let her go, or if he had a better excuse.

[Q. Samus Dage]

There were times when she simply boggled his mind. One moment she was seemingly climbing up his side, and the next she was edging away as if she'd scared herself. It was almost enough to bring a scowl to his face, but Samus maintained his expression with the beginnings of a conciliatory glint in his eyes.

"Or... " he drew the word out as his upper body leaned forward a small bit, invading her space ever so much.

"... you could let me treat you to a game of Deadliest Sith. I had to watch that bizarre ninja cop movie you had, so I'd say it's only fair that I get to return the favor."

His free hand moved then, reaching out to grasp her own as a conniving, lopsided smile grew.

"We've got a few hours, and I'd not mind beating that tuft off your tail for a bit."

His eyes rolled slightly up then.

"And if you really feel like you need to put together your report, you can use the terminal in my quarters."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa's ears bobbed up in agreement to the terms. Samus wore a sly expression on his face as he pressed home, keeping her hand-in-hand at the door. The K'ohta'rrou's own smile crept up bit by bit, and she gave one last glance left and right.

"Okajy."

Did it even matter the excuse? Not really? As long as it was remotely plausible. One thing was clear though. T'yeellaa was way past pretending that she was above the attraction. They'd have plenty of time for the task at hand later on. For now, all this was new and yet so familiar.

"Worrk beforre plajy, Commanderr. Lead the wajy."

[Q. Samus Dage]

There was a shift in his expression to something a shade more self-satisfying, and Samus slid his hand back to the palm reader. It chirped an affirmative, and the door opened to allow entry into a small living area. Along the far wall was a curving window that allowed a view of the hyperlane and its' tunnel of starlines. A utilitarian sofa on the immediate right, and a large holoscreen on the left. Just past the sofa was a desk and comm station. A door on the left led to a small room where his bed and a few dressers were tucked away. It was modest, but lived in. One half of the sofa held a small scattering of game cases and a hand controller, and the desk held a small stack of datapads and flimsis. There was no carpet; rather, it was seamless metal, beveled to make it appear as planks. It was certainly nothing particularly fanciful, but his quarters were at least as comfortable as he felt like making them.

And, ever the gentleman, he stepped slightly back, gesturing to allow her first entry.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

He wasn't kidding.

T'yeellaa took the silent cue, stepping through into the Commander's quarters. They were small and utilitarian, livened up only by Samus's things arrayed here and there. It reminded T'yeellaa of her short stint as the skipper of a picket. Even that little ship had quarters nearly this large. At least here, she could spread her arms in the living area and not touch the walls on each side.

But she wasn't here to admire the furnishings. She wasn't here to work on systems readiness reports or play holo games. As the door slid closed behind Samus, T'yeellaa settled on her gai'tou with a thirsty expression, pressing him forcefully against the wall adjacent to the door as she smothered his mouth with her own.

[Q. Samus Dage]

It was expected, but there was still a small part of him that had been serious about besting her in a battle of quick reflexes and sub-par graphics. Even as she pushed him against the wall, pressing her lips to his, Samus felt a small twinge of silly disappointment. Times like this, she was relentless and always hungry for more, and it never failed to excite his own senses.

Coming up for air, the lanky blonde kept a hold of her slender waist with both hands, fingers fanning down to make sure that his hold on her was solid and firm.

"Work before play, she says," came the rueful tone from between crooked-smiling lips.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Well...jyeah..."

T'yeellaa huffed between kisses as she took pains to loosen her lace cravat at her neck without rumpling the material. It was one thing to indulge in a fiery quick makeout session on Jovan, but here - she didn't exactly have a change of uniform to fall back on.

"...that'ss trrue..."

She paused her attempt at careful undress, running both hands through Samus's hair as he leveraged her upwards.

"...rrjight now we've got...ow!"

T'yeellaa shimmied up a bit too eagerly, wrapping her legs at his middle, but also finding the low ceiling with her head in the process. She winced, immediately attempting to play it off cool.

"...offjicerr orrjientatjion."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He let his body lean back against the wall as he held her, and with a curious look descending on his features, Samus inclined his head forward until his nose barely touched the tip of her own.

"And is this how such things are handled on a Cizerack ship?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The cravat finally came undone, and T'yeellaa tugged it free from under her high starched collar. She spared a quick glance to the side to fling the article somewhere safe before returning her attention to Samus and his teasing little question.

"On a Cizeri sshjip? jYou'd be mjy cabjin bojy, love."

She flashed a salaciously-fanged grin as her hands worked at the gilded buttons down her double-breasted jacket.

"No need forr prretensse. jI'd have jyou dajiljy...njightljy...everr-sso-rrjightljy."

T'yeellaa's jacket shrugged off her shoulders with a shimmy, and she gave her gai'tou an expecting look.

"jYou'd have to actualljy know how to do laundrrjy though."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Too bad for you then, Kitten. You'd be going to work with your fancy whites being not-so-white."

His crooked grin grew wide then, and his body lurched forward to send him on an awkward, stomping path to the doorway that led to his small room. Thankfully it wasn't a long trek, and despite a minor misstep, he sent the both of them through the doorway moments before practically dumping her on his bed.

"My bed isn't so big as yours, but I suppose it'll do well enough."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Bwuh..."

T'yeellaa landed with a springy squeak on a mattress that probably had its best supporting days behind it. It was narrow even for a twin, and her booted feet encroached close enough to the edge that she had trouble imagining Samus fitting on it in the best of circumstances.

Who cared! They were doing this! She shrugged her jacket the rest of the way down her arms, carefully pulling it free from under her while making sure to keep Samus teased and eager with a tail flip. She quickly rolled to one side and draped her coat over the back of the nearby chair before peeling her under shirt over her head.

"jI don't want a cabjin bojy anjywajy. jI want a man who knowss how to sset a good courrsse."

Her purring and smile paused, and T'yeellaa canted her head.

"Hejy, thesse arre mjy besst ljines. jYou gonna get out of thosse clothess orr not?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"You know the courses I tend to set," his smile only seemed to grow larger, and Samus half-leaned on the edge of the bed while taking his time in loosening the buttons of his duty jacket.

"Haven't sent us into an asteroid field yet," the jacket was shrugged from his shoulders to fall unceremoniously on the floor. His undershirt soon followed, and his fingers began to work on the buttons of his trousers.

"In fact, I'd say that the courses I set are about the best you'll find in the galaxy... "

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

She listened to Samus's good lines, watching as he slowly got out of that attractive uniform of his. Her bra was deftly unclasped, and flung across the room in a far more cavalier fashion than her articles that required a fold and a crease.

"And how arre jyou wjith courrsse corrrectjion?"

T'yeellaa pushed Samus against the wall-side edge of the bed, shimmying so that she jockeyed to be on top. Pinning him at the shoulders, the Cizerack grinned lasciviously, gliding down so that she could finish the last button and pull his pants free to his ankles. She briefly slid off the bed, working her boots out of her jodhpurs.

And that's when the door chime sounded.

"Sshjit!"

[Q. Samus Dage]

He had matched her expression with his own, always more than eager to indulge her more carnal side (which was - he had to admit - a very large side). Either way it never confronted him any, as he himself was a willing participant.

So of course it figured that as soon as meal time was about to begin, the comm chimed. Or at least, that's what happened more than a few times growing up when his family sat down for the evening meal. It'd happened enough that his father had begun to joke that 'it must be dinner time' every time the comm rang.

Except, this wasn't just a comm unit chirping for his attention.

It was the door. And most likely the finger that'd pushed the chime button belonged to a body that was now waiting to be answered.

A groan, and Samus let his head fall back onto his single pillow. A moment later though he swung himself over so that his legs went over the edge of the bed, and slowly rising, the blonde re-situated his trousers, buttoning them back up as he started from the bedroom. Looking to T'yeellaa with an almost helpless shrug, he stopped long enough to deposit a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Probably just someone looking for a signature," he reassured.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Now barefoot and topless, T'yeellaa could only grump silently as Dage padded back towards the door. Accomplishing the bare minimum of decorum, the K'ohta'rrou shrugged her jacket on, clasping one of the buttons closed. She tossed back onto the squeaky mattress, waiting for this inconvenience to go away.

[Zem Vymes]

The door slid open, and Zem glanced at Loklorien's first officer with a raised eyebrow.

"Commander Dage. Did I come at a bad time?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

Shirtless, barefoot, and suddenly face to face with a Jedi who looked like he'd been around enough blocks to know what was going on. It had to be some sort of nightmare, like those old bad dreams of being naked while giving a book report in front of the class.

To his credit, Samus kept an even keel, head tilting slightly to the side as he stuffed one hand into the front pocket of his trousers. His lips pursed, and he gave a good-natured grimace.

"Would it matter if I said yes?"

[Zem Vymes]

"Probably not." He deadpanned with a shrug.

"Figured we'd be able to go over the finer points of our mission specs. It's been a few years since I've done this sort of thing, so I figured a formal briefing was probably not the way to go."

[Q. Samus Dage]

His free hand moved up to grasp the doorframe, and Samus leaned his weight into the hold.

"Yyyeahh," he sucked his teeth, trying to think of another tactic. It was impossible, and suddenly he wished that the 'formal briefing' was an option.

Another moment passed, and with a long exhaled breath, he pushed himself away from the doorframe, allowing the momentum to lead his body into a sideways invite.

"Well. Come on in, then."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Noo!!

She very nearly screamed, cupping a hand over her mouth as she listened to the exchange between Samus and Master Vymes. Ohh that idiot! Tell him whatever he needs to hear and then make him leave!

T'yeellaa remained still as a statue, save for her perked and straining ears, pivoting to extract as much conversation from the other room as possible.

[Zem Vymes]

It wasn't a Jedi's business to pry unless necessary, but Zem could feel a distinct sense that Commander Dage was trying to hide something. That in itself didn't mean anything. A lot of people seemed to get that feeling at the sight of Jedi robes. There was always a fear of having something intimate and close unearthed, and it was a fear that was almost always harmless. Still, it seemed particularly pointed here and now.

Zem took a seat on Dage's sofa, but not before moving a pair of controllers to the minature end table that met the wall. Everything here seemed acutely cramped, but the officer's quarters afforded the best means to have the sort of one-on-one conversation he was intending.

"It seems like the situation on Telos is a bit more sensitive than we first thought."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Really, now."

He stayed on his feet, despite the Jedi Master making quick work of sitting his own self down on the sofa. It wasn't ideal, but it was the situation he now found himself in, and with a deep breath Samus moved to the desk, pulling the chair out that had been none-too-neatly shoved up to its' edge. Sitting down, he leaned back while one arm lay across the desk's surface.

"Alright then, are we talking 'Don't make fun of Lok's occasional accent' sensitive, or the much less fun 'things are gonna be a bit more tetchy' sensitive."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem humored the joke with a smile, but they both knew where this was headed.

"It's apparently getting political. Too political for our liking. There's a nativist movement picking up steam, and one of the Alliance's senators has decided to make an issue out of the crisis. Since Lok is the senior officer involved, he's probably going to draw her into a standoff, so unless that cools down, it's on me to actually help these kids."

[Q. Samus Dage]

The mention of a senator poking his or her head into this particular little mix was enough to make him scowl, and Samus sent his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Let me guess, something about the refugees being Kaleesh."

It was the beginnings of a headache that now seemed to take hold, and he sent a silent curse up to any invisible god or goddess that he could think of. Not five minutes previous his pants had been nearly around his ankles and a sumptuous, hungry smile had been staring at him from below two bright blue eyes that looked as ravenous as they were beautiful.

[Zem Vymes]

Vymes nodded.

"People have long memories. Long enough to take them back to the clone wars. A breakaway state on the outer rim. Familiar faces behind it."

The Jedi shook his head.

"Worries placed wrongly, but the fear is real. And with someone in power to give voice to those fears, it could be trouble."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa continued to eavesdrop. Her previous frustrations began to melt into a different sort of concern as she listened to gai'tou and the Jedi Master speak. Unconsciously, she leaned forward from her perch on the bed. Unfortunately, a squeaky bedspring decided to make itself known under her shifting weight. It was a small sound, but it sounded large in her ears.

[Q. Samus Dage]

He was still staring upwards when the bedspring's protesting squeak stabbed through the bedroom doorway and into the living area with the vengeance of a four-year-old tattle-tale. Just like a toddler rushing to a parent in order to rat out a sibling.

His eyes closed in that moment.

[Zem Vymes]

Dage's demeanor, coupled with his previous behavior, and the rogue bedspring all formed a narrative in Zem's mind. A dawning awareness crossed his features as he leaned back slightly on the couch.

"K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei, I presume?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

No sense crying about it now. She was an adult. T'yeellaa straightened, then spent a moment to button all of her jacket buttons to afford the Jedi the most decency she could muster at a moment's notice. She stood, allowing the noisy springs beneath her to fully betray her presence, before padding into the other room in bare feet. Hands clasped in front of her, she gave Samus a pointed glance before bowing in Vymes' presence.

"Massterr Jedji."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He'd caught the look from his peripheral vision, knowing that there was a decent possibility of her voicing her displeasure once this whole thing was over with.

It didn't need to be repeated verbatim, as he knew she'd overheard the new wrinkle in their mission, but it never hurt to summarize a few things.

"Seems we're going to be having a more sensitive go at things on Telos than originally anticipated."

He neglected to end the sentence with his usual pet name, instead letting his eyes shift down so that he was looking at her for a few moments before returning to the Jedi Master.

"What sort of rhetoric is being thrown about, then?"

[Zem Vymes]

If Zem felt embarassed about stepping into this mess, the two participants seemed hell-bent on breezing past the awkwardness and putting on professional faces. There was a distinct sense of tension, maybe even frustration, but neither wanted to put off the intent of his visit.

"I'm sure you can imagine. The Kaleesh are a warrior society. They don't bring any meaningful trade to the Alliance. We're fostering a brood of future warlords. It'll only be a matter of time before the Clone Wars begin anew."

He seemed weary in reciting the lines, and shook his head.

"And that's before the discussion of force sensitivity comes into play. That only increases the hysterics. There are still plenty of people who want to see the divorce between the Alliance and the Jedi Order finalized."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

It was obvious where Master Vymes stood on the matter, and T'yeellaa had a good idea where her gai'tou stood on it too. That made the subject matter more than a little awkward. T'yeellaa said nothing, fixing her gaze on a smudgy spot of floor decking.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Mm."

Not really surprising to hear, if he was being honest with himself. And with Ossus still fresh on many minds, there was no real shock at Master Vymes' last statement. It was expected in its' own way. T'yeellaa's silence on the matter didn't go unnoticed, but he wasn't so foolish as to force her into saying anything. She would speak up in her own time.

"And the senator there now seems to think there's merit to all of that nonsense?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Who'ss to ssajy jit'ss all nonssensse?"

It blurted out before she could stop it, but then it was there in front of everyone. T'yeellaa's ears drooped, but quickly righted themselves.

"Okajy, therre'ss a lot of hjyssterrjia therre, but we'rre sstjill lookjing at acceptjing a bunch of people we know nothjing about. Doessn't that concerrn jyou?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"From what I read of the initial reports, the Jedi are the ones who're mostly shouldering this," Samus looked to Vymes as he spoke.

"They're refugees after all, not an angry mob. They deserve as much of a helping hand as everyone else here in the Alliance," his eyes tracked to T'yeellaa then. "What concerns me is that they get a fair shake and a chance to have a decent go of things."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem nodded along with Dage, making note of the pointed disagreement between the two.

"Ossus is prepared to receive the refugees. We have enough surplus tents and supplies to help these people find their feet."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Well that'ss well and good, but Osssuss jiss sstjill well wjithjin Alljiance sspace. Thosse Kaleessh, thejy won't be rrefugeess therre forreverr. And when thejy arren't, we'll have a djiassporra on ourr handss."

T'yeellaa shook her head.

"And even jif we arren't lettjing a vjiolent factjion acrrosss the borrderr, wherre do we drraw the ljine? Do we accept everrjyone? Half the planetss herre arre sstjill half-desstrrojyed frrom the warr, and the otherr half jin debt overr coverrjing the expensse of cleanjing them up."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He blinked at that, this side of T'yeellaa that was now making itself known somewhat surprising. Of course, they had never really had discussions of this nature before, so he supposed that it did stand to reason that there were things the two might've disagreed on. Letting a short silence hang in the air as he considered his next words, Samus opted for diplomacy.

"Well, in this case what's done is done. We're only here to make sure the refugees get to where they need to be," a respectful nod to the Jedi Master, "... and where they need to be is Ossus."

[Zem Vymes]

Hands up in polite supplication, Zem offered a conciliatory smile that bordered a grimace.

"My apologies. I did not mean for the discussion to fall into politics. I hope we can work together for the refugees' sake. Whatever we might think of the larger picture, they're blameless in this."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa's ears burned in self-flagellation, sinking low as a dour expression crossed her features.

"No apologjiess necesssarrjy, Massterr Jedji. We..."

She stole a glance at Samus, quickly looking away and back to the Jedi.

"...arre herre to do ourr dutjy. Whateverr we mjight perrssonalljy thjink..."

Her lower lip tucked slightly as she gently chewed it to find her words.

"...sshouldn't have even enterred jinto djisscusssjion. We'll be rreadjy to ssupporrt jyou on the planet, of courrsse."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Oh, he wasn't so naive as to think this would be over when the Jedi Master left; he knew well enough the simmering frustrations burbling beneath the surface of a woman he had a lot more to say in privacy. But now was not necessarily the time or place for those words to make an exit into the air, and Samus pressed on. He supposed that his attempts at what he figured had been diplomacy were simply not up to par, to say the least.

Rather, he gave a nod to T'yeellaa's last words, his eyes shifting to Master Vymes.

"Speaking of, what sort of mucking about are we looking at?"

[Zem Vymes]

"We'll know better once we get down there."

Zem wished he had more to go on, but for now, this was it.

"I want to assess the refugees situation. Bring whatever aid we can to them on the way down. From there, we either move the refugees by official sanction, or..."

The Jedi offered a wry grin.

"Something more covert."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Those last words were enough to cause a somewhat surprised look from him, and a moment later Samus couldn't help the "Ha!" that barked out from between his lips.

"Well then! I suppose some of those old stories the old girl told me about you were true then, you sly anooba."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa wasn't nearly as jovial. With lips pressed in an impassive thin line, she crossed her arms.

"Sso we majy verrjy well end up ssmuggljing thesse people out?"

Her tail switched. She was done with objections.

"jI'll make cerrtajin we have asss ljittle trrouble on planet asss posssjible."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem's eyes twinkled with only a grin to confirm Dage's prodding. Clearly he'd been in Lok's orbit long enough to feel charmed by history.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up. The Captain is something of a raconteur."

It was, if anything, said to the K'ohta'rrou's benefit. Modesty never hurt, but Zem could tell the Cizerack was the more straight-laced of the two.

"With the force guiding us, I think we'll be able to help people without attracting any tall-tale exploits. After all, we used to be negotiators and peacemakers. Still bears reminding now and again."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"See that?"

He wasn't about to be stymied by over-careful modesty, and with a rather triumphant look to T'yeellaa, Samus let both hands splay open, fingers going out as if to signal praise for some higher being above them.

"The man is a fountain of humble grace in the face of historical fact."

Once more his hands returned to the previous position; one draped on the armrest and the other resting on the desk.

"I think," his tone turned a touch more serious then, "... that it will be about as predictable a mission as any I've been on. When angry mobs are involved, it's usually much the same as ever."

Which was to say, it was never the same. If there was one constant that Samus Dage knew, it was that groups of yelling and irate individuals tended to be as unpredictable as anything in this galaxy.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa's eyes met Samus's with unsaid intent. She was aware of the spin he was trying to put on things. She wasn't buying it, but she also wasn't going to call him on it in front of the Jedi.

"Well, jif jit'ss that prredjictable, jI trrusst therre'ss nothjing furrtherr forr the brrjiefjing?"

The K'ohta'rrou cut her eyes back to Vymes.

[Zem Vymes]

One didn't exactly need the force to get a feel for the latent energy between these two. Zem chuckled at the question, and shook his head.

"Nope, that's about the long and short of it. If you'll excuse me, I'll leave the two of you to the, er, rest of your preparations."

[Q. Samus Dage]

It was in that moment that a realization hit him, and with a suddenly concerned look that flitted immediately from T'yeellaa to the Jedi Master.

"Well, don't think you have to vacate so quickly, Master Vymes... "

It wasn't really fear that fueled him now; it was more the inevitable onset an awareness of what their free time might've been compared to what it would be now. Rather than a time of carefree joy before a storm, he had a suspicion that the storm had chosen to begin early.

The blonde gave a hopeful gesture to the controllers of his Holostation.

"I mean, I've never fought an actual Jedi in Deadliest Sith."

His voice lowered, eyes rolling to the side as his eyebrows lifted.

"Lok certainly refuses to accept my challenges... "

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

When the inevitable look of cluelessness settled on Master Vymes face, T'yeellaa sighed.

"Pleasse excusse Commanderr Dage. He'ss a bojy trrapped jin a man'ss bodjy. The besst phjyssjicjianss jin the galaxjy arre lookjing jinto jit."

[Q. Samus Dage]

With an opened mouth containing no verbal argument, Samus looked to T'yeellaa with mock indignation. It was a look that he'd picked up from her, and had in his own way mastered.

Eventually words caught up with his expression.

"I'll have you know it's a serious affliction, Ma'am."

His eyes returned to Vymes, and he held up a finger in an effort to stay the Jedi Master's upward movement from the sofa.

"Great game, no real Sith, I promise."

[Zem Vymes]

"I think...I probably have a little preparing of my own to do."

With an apologetic smile, Zem rose from his seat.

"How about a rain check until after the mission? I like games, even if it sounds like you may have to explain it to me."

The Jedi Master glanced to T'yeellaa, giving her a knowing nod.

"K'ohta'rrou, a pleasure. I hope I haven't disturbed you too much."

[Q. Samus Dage]

And just like that, the possible distraction from whatever might be coming his way was removed. Brushed aside as effortlessly as anything, and a small part of him marveled at the ease with which Vymes plucked himself up from the mire.

He wished he could learn such an art, and as the door whisked shut, secluding himself and T'yeella once more into the confines of his quarters, the blonde couldn't help the myriad of expressions that passed over his features. The last one was of the sort of helpless nature that a person would attribute to a cornered Macalope, and when he spoke next, there was the telltale tone of a man doomed to his inevitable fate.

"Sooo... wanna get some pizza?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The non-sequitur bounced off of T'yeellaa's armor plating, and didn't diminish the stormy pout on her face.

"jYou werre sso much morre attrractjive beforre we sstarrted talkjing poljitjicss."

She brushed past him, heading to the bedroom to begin collecting her disassembled wardrobe.

[Q. Samus Dage]

Shoulders slumping in the knowledge that his silly little quip would of course do nothing, Samus only followed her trajectory with his eyes, at least noticing the sway of her backside as she breezed by.

"You know," his voice was a rumble of low notes and bass tones, "... for what it's worth, I didn't really think you'd be marching out of here after that full-court press you were pushing on me before we walked in here."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa immediately whirled one hundred eighty degrees.

"And now jyou'rre teassjing me? Dammjit Ssamuss, jyou thjink jI djidn't want thjiss? What the hell am jI ssuppossed to ssajy? Sshrrug jit off and prretend mjy gai'tou jissn't jin favorr of galactjic amnesstjy?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

There was the barest of hard edges that crept into his eyes as he stared at her.

"Yeah well, when you've been one of the folks that amnesty means a hell of a lot to, maybe you'll understand, Kitten."

What had once been a relaxed and hopeful look became one of tensed muscles as his arms crossed together, and he leveled her with an unflinching stare. Gone was the boyish, lackadaisical expression. Instead he sent a hardened and steely look her way.

"That stuff means having a life for folks that aren't so privileged."

His brow furrowed even more, and for the first time ever, T'yeellaa Meorrrei saw a man who had crawled his way doggedly from a life of hardship.

"Folks like me."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa bristled at how neatly Samus had made a hypocrite of her. Her gai'tou, the outsider, the refugee, the migrant.

The Terrorist.

That was the Empire's determination, after all. She'd never once considered him as such. Not that it made the argument any more tidy.

"jYou'rre djifferrent! Nothjing ljike that warr mongerr Grrjievouss. He pusshed uss jinto a warr farr larrgerr than we had anjy jincljinatjion forr."

She wanted to slap him. Or kiss him and shut him up. All the emotions were piqued and close to the skin, keeping her feeling red hot.

[Q. Samus Dage]

A deep inhalation was the only sign that he was listening to her. Eventually the shade of his eyes followed. and when that shade shifted, there was something understanding yet steel-hard in them.

"Your people were on the side that demanded more, Kitten."

Both of his hands went down then, fingers gripping at the armrests of his chair.

"You're as much a product of an ideology as I am. I'd wager we're on the same side even."

He was trying to show her that their bridge ran parallel.

"You want your way of life to be understood, don't you?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Of courrsse jI do!" T'yeellaa's brows knit defensively. She squared her feet to not surrender an inch, as if an argument could be won or lost in distance.

"But that doessn't come forr frree, no matterr the hjigh-mjinded jidealss that ssuggessted otherrwjisse jin jyourr rrebelljion."

Her features softened as her ears lowered.

"Don't jyou thjink jI want to beljieve that'ss all trrue? Don't jyou thjink jI can't jimagjine what jit would be ljike jif jit werre? But jit'ss not trrue, Ssamuss. We can't jusst forrgjive everrjy passt wrrong wholessale, and we can't ssjimpljy thrrow open the gate wjithout takjing a sserrjiouss look at what we mjight let jin, and what we mjight become jif we do."

[Q. Samus Dage]

His gaze never wavered, and he made no move to rise. His posture was still mostly relaxed as he had no desire to root himself to the deckplates in the same manner that she had.

"We become better stewards by giving a chance to those who otherwise don't have one, and we show everyone that we're not the Empire."

A single eyebrow lifted then, and his head ticked to the side. It was time to cut away the fluff and get to the real issue.

"Unless you seriously think that every Kaleesh is Grievous... ?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"No, thejy arren't, but how much do jyou know about them, Ssamuss? Djid jyou know thejirr culturre jiss obssesssed wjith warr?"

T'yeellaa paced, her tail switching in snits as she turned.

"Not ljike jyou orr ljike me. We fjight when we have to - when we'rre pusshed. Thejy fjight becausse jitss centrral to thejirr culturre. Sso we let a few hundrred of them make a home forr themsselvess jin Alljiance sspace. What happenss next?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

A sigh, and Samus lurched upward to stand, his height sending him well above T'yeellaa as he reached out to grab her arm. If they kept on like this, she'd soon enough be stomping herself out of his quarters and back to wherever she came from, and the blonde wasn't about to let her throw her hands up after the fight she made just to get through his door to begin with.

Pulling her close, he gave her a fleeting, crooked grin before silencing her words with his lips pushing against hers.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

She was angry, and moved to pull her arm free from his grasp. She faltered more than he held on. She wanted to bite his lip hard, it turned into a nibble. She was still angry, but it was starting to matter less and less, and she was starting to remember exactly why she was here to begin with. That fire hadn't been snuffed out, and the coals were still underneath, red hot. Didn't take long to become a conflagration again.

Redoubled and reinforced with a little angry energy, T'yeellaa returned to the matter at hand with vigor, dragging Samus back to the bed where she shoved him against the mattress.

"And don't jyou ssajy one morre worrd about poljitjics!"



Ninety minutes later


Hot, piqued, sweaty, spent. Bruised too. She smarted in no less than four places where they'd smacked against a bulkhead or a low ceiling. Angry sex was wild energy, but in an awkward venue, there was a lot of friendly fire. For now, T'yeellaa simply lay back in the afterglow, smashed against Dage's side with her feet dangling off the small bed.

"jYou're lajyjing on mjy tajil."

It was perhaps the least profound thing she could say in the moment, but T'yeellaa feared invoking the beast of their two competing passions. It wasn't just that they were competitive, they were equally stubborn.

[Q. Samus Dage]

He gave a grunted non-answer, but shifted his body so that her tail could escape from its' prison beneath him. Busy inspecting his most recent crop of scratches along his chest, Samus couldn't help but release a sighing grumble.

"You know, each time I think it'll be different. I say to myself 'It'll be ok, Samus. It won't be like it was the last time'. And guess what... I'm always wrong. It's never different."

A last exhale, and he slowly sat up.

"Which is to say nothing of how many times I hit the wall."

A sly look her way, and his hand reached out, one finger extended to push into a bit of bluish discoloration beginning to forming on her shoulder.

"Least I'm not the only one with war wounds this time."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

She watched his annoying finger on a deliberately provocative course mash into her fresh bruise. He withdrew his finger, and she deadpanned "Ow." with a bothered ear-twitch.

"jI'm not ssurre jif that'ss the besst jI've had jin a whjile, orr the worrsst."

T'y rolled off the edge of the bed, letting her feet slap the deck as she groaned.

"Do jyou have kolto?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

He gestured towards the small, compact fresher.

"In the mirror cabinet," his voice held more of a drawl as he spoke, and leaning back into bed once more, he swept his arms back to prop his head up.

"You know, you only have yourself to blame this time around." A smirk. "I'm but a pawn in your little pleasure game."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Leaning at the door frame leading to the refresher, T'y crossed her arms with a wry expression on her face.

"Forr a pawn, jyou ssurre do need a lot of ssjignalss. jI honesstljy thought jyou werre about to let me walk back to mjy quarrterrss."

She shook her head, turning to climb into the sonic shower.

"jI thought fljirrtjing wass a human thjing!"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Hey now," the feigned hurt reared its' head in that moment, and he had fun with it.

"In my defense your versions of flirting are either super-duper obvious or so subtle that even a Bothan spymaster wouldn't be able to decode it."

He sat back up, slowly and ponderously letting his legs swing over the side of the bed to set bare feet on cold durasteel plates. Reaching over, his hand grasped at the undergarments she'd practically torn off. He even made sure to inspect each stitch for damage.

"Besides. Even if you did go back to your quarters, I'm pretty well certain you'd find some reason to come back."

He gave her a good-natured wink in punctuation.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Activating the sonics, T'yeella began to scrub off her exertions with workmanlike efficiency.

"Don't doubt jit forr a ssecond. jI have an actjive jimagjinatjion!" she called out over the hum, spreading sonoactivated lather over her striped skin.

"Majybe next tjime Massterr Vjymess jinterruptss uss, we can jinvjite hjim to jojin jin."

T'yeellaa grinned furtively and unseen as she set a teasing hook on the line.

[Q. Samus Dage]

There was a brief, morbid look that passed swiftly over his features at those last words, and Samus couldn't help the incredulous stare he gave to the empty doorway of the 'fresher.

The next moment found him rising to stand, and in a bizarre dance of stepping toward the 'fresher while attempting to pull on his underwear, the lanky blonde halfway tumbled through the doorway.

"Kitten, you do realize he's already taken, don't you?"

He grasped the plain toothbrush sitting in its' wall holder, his free hand moving to take up the half-used stick of toothpaste. Pausing for a moment in thought, he twisted his torso so that he could point the tube at her. There was a glowpanel that had ticked on in his brain, telling him that he'd left her an opening that needed to be firmly shut off before she got any other ideas.

"Which, it wouldn't even matter if he wasn't. The answer is a hard no, Ma'am."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

The lather on her skin firmed up a moment before atomizing into vapor, and T'yeellaa side-eyed Samus and the level of his disengagement in her proposed ménage à trois, and merely shrugged it off with a grin, wagging her tail left and right as she turned her back to Samus and hummed a tune to herself.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

* * *


The sleek, winged hull of Khera'Va'ss'io cracked into realspace with a silent peel of thunder, his rakish exterior angling to the side as his hulk slid into an easy orbit over Telos. The age-old form of Citadel Station was still impressive, set above the planet like some ancient sentinel.

On the bridge, s'Il had chosen to forego the normal perch of her chair in favor for a standing view of the planet before them. T'yeellaa stood to her right, and the shorter blonde allowed her hands to fold together at the small of her back.

"It has been a very long time since I was last here," she mused.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa turned her head slightly, the starch of her high collar creaking slightly with the motion. Curiosity signaled in a raised brow. It shouldn't come as any surprise that s'Ilancy had traveled to this place before. She had a long and storied career.

"Frrom the Rrepubljic Warr, rrou'a?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"No, not exactly."

Even so far removed, everything looked much the same.

"It was after that, and after the Purge."

Her voice took on a strange tone then, as she remembered a time that was far more tenuous and desperate than how things were now. A time when they all were simply hanging by the thinnest of threads, clinging to survival while still trying to resist. They had never given in back then; never given up.

"It was during the Kwymar Suppressions. Our old cell had joined up with others, and we all made a stand against the Empire, trying to keep it from taking Telos IV, Doniphon, Kestus Minor... "

Her voice trailed off at the last mention, as her thoughts were jerked away from an already terrible bit of history and dropped to another point of shame. Kestus Minor would always be a name that held sorrow and loss. It was where she had miscarried her second child (http://theholo.net/forum/showthread.php?19505-Our-Lost-Innocence), and in the brief silence, she unconsciously shifted one hand, bringing it around to pass over her midsection in some act of ghostly apology.

A moment later she pushed the regret away, and her features took a much more introspective turn.

"The Restoration Zone wasn't as big the last time I was here, so there is some bit of good news, I suppose."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Sstjill not bjig enough enough." T'y replied, terse-lipped as she pulled the slack out of her white gloves.

"The Empjirre wass happjy to let thjiss rregjion go to lawlessnesss when jit ssujited them. Thesse worrldss became the fjief of sslaverrss and worrsse. We engaged them when jit ssujited ourr jinterresst, but therre'ss neverr rrealljy been anjythjing rressembljing law ssjince jI wass a cub."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her mood darkened only slightly, her eye never leaving the sight of Citadel Station or the expanse of green on the planet below it.

"It is a shame that we were never able to return for a counteroffensive. After the Empire drove us out, we were simply too depleted to mount any sort of comeback; all we could do was run."

There was a moment as those memories filled her thoughts.

"It was like the worst madhouse; so much death, so many innocent lives lost... "

The sound of the far door whisking upward caused her to half-turn on her heel, watching as Samus and Zem both stepped through onto the bridge. With a last look to T'yeellaa, the Lupine moved to make her way from the viewing deck while finishing.

"... I have my hopes that in some small form I can now make up for our inabilities all those years ago."

[Zem Vymes]

Entering at the trailing end of the conversation, Master Vymes offered the two ladies a polite smile.

"Are we ready for the trip planetside?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

Behind Master Vymes, Samus busied himself with making sure that his uniform tunic was straight. It wasn't his dress blues, but there was still the need to ensure he looked the part of a Naval officer. It had helped that the Jedi Master had said little to nothing when they'd met in the lift, both on their way to the bridge. And the blessed silence that continued down the corridor was really only broken by mumbled pleasantries on his part. Oh, he had a healthy enough suspicion that Vymes was like the Captain, in that he'd not pry, and for that he was eternally grateful. T'yeellaa's words from less than an hour ago still rattled embarrassingly through his thoughts despite his best attempts to dispel them. Oh, she'd known what she was doing when she said that, and it flustered him more so than he'd wanted to admit.

Now, standing on the bridge, and with one last tug at the edges of his cuffs, Samus tipped his head back up. Coming around to stand beside Master Vymes, the blonde looked from T'yeellaa to the Captain.

"Mr. Varin is prepping the shuttle. He'll be ready to light out whenever we are."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Good."

T'yeellaa parted from Captain s'Ilancy's side, crossing over to where Zem and Samus stood. She stood next to Dage - close, but not too close, pausing only for a brief glance and a smile before returning her attention to the Captain.

"We'rre rreadjy."

[Jeremy Varin]

* * *



The nice thing about entering into a planet's atmosphere was not exactly anything. At least, not when Captain s'Ilancy was aboard. That poor creature was like some cosmic joke. At least she had her doramine to help with the motion sickness, and coupled with the fact that down below there were no windows... it made for an easier go of things. Still however, he was always careful. It had only taken one time of having her upended lunch in his lap to convince him of the fact that his piloting was of the utmost importance when she was aboard.

Perhaps coming here was a blessing, in that he didn't need to make his normal calculations for planetfall - no, he only had to dock with Citadel Station. As the old nu-class shuttle passed through the atmospheric barrier, Varin at least made sure to check on his passengers.

His voice filtered through the internal comm system like a smooth river.

"Everything ok down there?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She was like some immovable statue, sitting beside Zem with just the right amount of space between them. There was no denying the occasional sway of a body that hoped to make contact with another more solid rock of support. But, she maintained,

"We are all well down here, Mr. Varin. Thank you."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Seated across, T'yeellaa watched Captain s'Ilancy reply to the pilot with a slight amount of wariness in her expression. The Cizerack made a point of inspecting her cravat, using the diversion as an excuse to whisper to Commander Dage, seated next to her.

"What'ss wrrong wjith the Captajin?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

He was so used to s'Il's little problem that for a few moments T'yeellaa's question caused a blank stare. A moment later he blinked, and voice low to match hers, answered as matter-of-factly as he could.

"Old girl gets spacesick."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Rrealljy??"

The Meorrrei appetite for gossip ran deep, and T'yeellaa took pains not to gawk, even as she shifted in her seat to lean foward.

"jI neverr would have taken Captajin ss'jIlancjy forr a haarrai'erri."

She almost whispered the word, glancing back to Samus with a bashful lowering of ears.

"jI guesss we rrealljy do thjingss djifferrentljy."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was no way that she couldn't smile at the exchange. Despite the whispered words, she'd heard well enough.

"Luckily I have medicine to take care of most of the issue," she spoke softly, and pulling in a long breath, the Lupine ventured a side-eye to Zem before turning her gaze back to T'yeellaa. Her expression was one of concern as her next words were delivered with a flat, deadpan tone of no-nonsense.

"We are all fortunate that Mr. Varin is at the controls, and not Master Vymes."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

It was too late to feel embarassed for having been found out. The K'ohta'rrou arched an eyebrow, shifting her attention from the Captain to the Jedi.

"What doess sshe mean?"

[Zem Vymes]

Zem replied with a humble little shrug.

"I used to be a star pilot, back in the Clone Wars. I suppose if you asked her, she'd call my piloting reckless, or something less pleasant."

He glanced to s'Ilancy.

"It's not for everyone, I suppose."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"It most certainly is not."

Varin's voice cut through once more.

"Passing through the atmosphere field... now... "

There was always the slightest of tinges that she could feel in the pit of her stomach, despite the already present gravity provided by the shuttle's own internal generators. It was small, but it was most certainly there, and s'Il couldn't help the knitting of her brow as the feeling came, then went just as quickly.

The trembling of firing maneuvering thrusters reverberated gently throughout, and it wasn't long before the old nu-class shuttle had settled upon the landing platform with feathered precision.

The Lupine let out a long breath that she'd been holding, and her fingers splayed out to rest flat upon her legs for a moment before slowly sliding up, taking hold of the clasps holding her crashstraps in place.

"I am sure that my time will be almost immediately taken up by the delegation. The three of you will most likely be able to tour the refugee camp as soon as you wish."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa nodded, glancing to Vymes and Dage in turn.

"jI took the ljiberrtjy of gettjing the latesst rreporrtss frrom the Admjirraltjy on Canadarri. Therre have been no ssjighted rrajidss frrom Thalasssjia rrecentljy. Hopefulljy wjith an Alljiance warrsshjip jin orrbjit, we won't hearr of anjy trrouble frrom thejirr lot."

All it meant was that trouble was simply concentrated to the planet.

"jI have been assked to fjile an jindependent rreporrt asss well. Mjy people arre underrsstandabljy concerrned about a mjigrrant jinflux herre."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was a standard concern, and s'Il only gave a nod.

"Of course."

Rising to her feet, the Lupine reached up to brush any unseen specs of dust from the front of her uniform. Dage did the same, though he refrained from fussing over his own uniform. Instead he simply gave her a nod before looking to where the shuttle's nose would soon begin to lower itself.

s'Il turned her eyes to Zem, her voice becoming level and severe.

"If anyone from the Children of the Pure Republic mob so much as throws a pebble, I want to know. We're not here for conflict, but I will not tolerate uncivil behavior."

[Zem Vymes]

Master Vymes got to his feet as well, trailing the group. He nodded, shrouding his face with the hood of his Jedi cloak.

"I will keep you apprised of the situation, Captain. With the force guiding us, I hope the encounter remains peaceful."

[Q. Samus Dage]

* * *



The trip to the the hastily constructed refugee camp was taken mostly in silence, and as he stared out the window of the speeder as it passed through the checkpoint gate, Samus couldn't help but frown ever so slightly.

"Stuff like this... it's never comfortable," he couldn't help but murmur.

"Looking for a better life, but stuck in a walled-off 'camp'."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Hmm."

It was noncommittal fluff to Gai'tou's commentary. T'yeellaa saw the crush of sentient life they passed in a different light. Dirty faces in tenements passed slowly - slow enough to consider where caches of contraband might be stored if any n'er-do-wells wished to do it. And her internalized suspicions made her ashamed, and that shame made her angry all over again. Was he being naive, or was she being callous here? It was too simple to triangulate in the middle without a reason to do so, but this wasn't a zero sum game either.

She tried to find a face in the mob that might speak to her - one that might hint at commonality that she could relate to.

"jIt rremjindss me of Syragor."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Oh?"

For the moment, he welcomed the distraction, and as their speeder continued slowly along the main thoroughfare, Samus pounced on the introspection.

"How so?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Jusst that feeljing that everrjyone jiss watchjing jyou and wajitjing forr jyou to lowerr jyourr guarrd. Thejy mjight be frrjiendljy on the ssurrface, but jyou can alwajyss feel ejyess ljingerrjing on jyou jin a wajy that jyou expect prroblemss. jI took sseverral ssolsstjice holjidajys therre. Syragor can be njice, sso long asss jyou keep the cjitjy centerrss. When jyou go nearr the outsskjirrtss and the sslumss, well, jyou know..."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He blinked, then slowly turned to look at her.

When he spoke next, his voice was low and level.

"You think if you go out there you're going to get a shiv in between your ribs if you don't hand over a credit chit keyed to a thousand credits?

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

It sounded hyperbolic when he said it, and T'yeellaa didn't take the bait. She held her position with a serious expression on her face.

"jI thjink thejy'rre dessperrate, and when people get dessperrate, thejy become dangerrouss."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He made a face, but chose to not go further down that path. His head angled back to look out the window. A few hastily-erected tents with a small group or family huddled inside, one face or two poking out to watch the passing speeder. The mud of the thoroughfare was like a constant, that spread outward to coat everything. The refugees were not a large group, but apparently they were enough to cause a maniacal sect of radicals to protest them. In those piercing eyes though, Samus saw himself. He saw desperation, hunger, and the need to push on. He knew that look. It haunted him to this day.

What sort of a monster would turn away a being for trying to do better, and to live a life outside of what most people thought of when your race was mentioned?

In the end, he couldn't entirely help himself.

"They look tired and hungry, to me."

It was up to Master Vymes now, to save the two from themselves.

[Zem Vymes]

The conversation in the speeder was starting to suck up all the oxygen. When an opening presented itself, Zem interjected.

"I think you'll find a common thread in that everyone has a desire to be a good person. Circumstances can distort what this view of good may be."

He smiled at the couple.

"Fortunately for us, some of those may be in our control."

Zem glanced to the driver.

"Pull over in that clearing."

[Idiri Su'ul Ahan'war]

Her small, hastily erected tent was home now. Or at least, it was home until the Alliance told her to move. It didn't matter too much to her; she was safe now, as was her small family.

Once a great matriarch, Idiri Su'ul Ahan'war had watched her old life chip away until it was nothing, and her sons and daughters stand as long as they could before being laid into the ground by blaster and pike. The civil wars had taken their toll, and she had bore the brunt of so much heartache and loss. But she was still alive. She was still breathing and able to provide. Not many of her generation could say the same, and she was determined to continue on in her capacity as decision-maker. What sons she had left, what grandsons were still living... they would listen to her and do as they were told.

Here now, on Telos, they had scratched a meager existence from what had been given to them. The daily foodlines were atrocious, and some had taken to sneaking beyond the border to hunt for fresh game. Most of the time those hunts ended in bitter disappointment, as the authorities confiscated their kills. But, every so often, there was success. Her youngest boy, Jai'aru, had managed to net himself two sand rabbits and a plump sagequail. He had also been able to return with all of his bounty, and Idiri soon enough set to preparing them. They would last at least two days. Two days of meat, with the provided starches and meager portions of vegetables that were already provided by those watching over them all.

The old Kaleesh woman sat in silence beside her cooking fire, watching the comings and goings of a sea of bodies out before her; crying younglings, sullen adults, all were like a never-ending mass of life.




This day however, dawned with the signs of change. Every morning upon waking, she had dropped her Telling-Bones into the small, upended jar lid set beside her pillow. Most days they said the same thing - sameness, crushing closeness, always the same. But on this morning, the knuckle joints had fallen just so, telling her that change was coming. Whether good or bad she could not say; only that there was a breeze in the air that brought with it something different.

Mid-morning found the aging Kaleesh sitting by her cooking fire once more, the metal pot steaming with a concoction of rice, seasoned with whatever spices that she'd managed to scrounge from the other families.

In the clearing ahead of her, a speeder slowed to a stop, and she watched as it sat silently idling for a few moments before fully powering down.

Idly, she reached over to turn a rabbit carcass over on her small spit. It was browning nicely, and she made sure to be mindful that it would not burn into cinders.

But, her curiosity at this new arrival was still present, and she let her thoughts drift back to the nebulous message that her Telling-Bones had given to her.

Were these strangers here to send her, her family, and all of the others onto a new path?

[Zem Vymes]

"Come."

Zem gestured with a welcoming hand to Dage and T'yeellaa as he exited the speeder, buffeting slightly on the repulsor cushion. He strode toward one of the shanties, catching the notes of something cooking in the heat of the air. As he approached, dozens of golden eyes followed his every move.

"Hello there. My name is Zem Vymes. I am a Jedi."

He pivoted, gesturing to the pair following him.

"This is Commander Samus Dage and K'ohta'rrou T'yeellaa Meorrrei of the Alliance of Free Planets."