Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Covalent Bonds ❯ Chapter 48
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: pronker 
Non Anime: Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Action | Type: Fanfiction Sequel | Uploaded On: 10.16.2008 | Updated On: 10.17.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.8K | Visits: 136 | Status: Completed
Non Anime: Star Wars - Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Action | Type: Fanfiction Sequel | Uploaded On: 10.16.2008 | Updated On: 10.17.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.8K | Visits: 136 | Status: Completed
Anakin knew the endless waiting on dreary, polluted, crime-ridden Nar Shaddaa had gotten him down when he began to think about his shortcomings. Is it because of my Outer Rim accent that it has taken me six weeks to get this far to His Highness' presence? Obi-Wan never mentions it, but his speech patterns and mine are different.
"And just why should His Highness see you?" snapped a protocol droid, bloated with self-importance in its position as 8t88's majordomo. The large overhead fans pushed the heated air of 8t88's penthouse foyer downwards into the antechamber, which scorned seating for inferior sentients such as humans. Anakin had been waiting in a line outside the main entrance of the tatty five-story building in the winter rain and slush for two hours since dawn today, sizing up whether or not he could mind control the Phlog guarding the door. He was in no mood to lose his advantage in the line of supplicants for this droid's favors. He was particularly not anxious to see the sludge of Nar Shaddaa once more, either the living sludge of down-on-their-luck beings or the detritus of a society whose infrastructure included few garbage pickups. The stench alone nearly made him drop his character. He swore it gathered in his beard, where he smelled it everytime he inhaled. I'll shave the beard right after this meeting. Obi-Wan, you win.
Anakin held his ground as he thought a tough smuggler might. He glowered, he swaggered, he curled his lip into a smirk. Shifting one hip forward, tapping his blaster meaningfully, he drawled, "This says so." He flung a handful of thousand credit doubloons on the countertop of the majordomo's work station. "And these," he rumbled, putting on the face that had appeared on Palo's rendition of him in the holocard run of Jousting Jedi. No frown, he thought, no sneer, just portray purpose. And he did.
The droid's optical receptors brightened. Apparently, 8t88 had programmed his own greed into his staff. The droid clawed the currency into its internal cash drawer. Anakin could see troguts, pokes of aurodium dust and some bills of small denominations, along with crystalline vertex and lowly decicreds. All currency is grist for 8t88's mill. Even Gardulla turned up her tail at decicreds
"Boy!" A human 'tween who was all gangly limbs with the threat of more gangliness in his next five years trotted up, wiping his nose on a sleeve that used to be white. He looked as if regular meals were a longheld dream. What would an info droid know of child care, thought Anakin, and pitied the boy with the scab on his chin. "Boy, show this one to the Throne Room." Anakin sauntered down the corridor after the boy, who stole a look backward and adopted the same gait. Anakin supposed the boy didn't see many fellow humans and was craving a role model. How could he bear it, living only with droids?
The boy pressed the slender hands of a musician or a mechanic against the seams of his worn black trousers and bobbed a rough bow to his employer. "Captain Alapmi!" he announced, then gave a sly wink to Anakin as he departed through the aurodium-plated door. Eh, he'll be all right somehow.
Anakin made a show of staring at the sleepy hornagaunt's solid aurodium collar and the similar expensive water dish and then turned his attention casually, disrespectfully to the droid reclining on the dais. Don't push the attitude, don't look at his head, don't mention its tiny disproportionate size, do not use the word 'head' at all. The hornagaunt began to snore, its wingstubs quivering. Anakin recalled the beast's name was Grendel. The scar on Anakin's face that makeup extended sideways to his ear and up to his hairline hadn't intimidated the formidable creature at all, nor had the cast to the eye that the scar transfixed. It had been a near thing that his eye had not a whitish cast for real.
8t88 took in the Glarsaur hide vest and the odd curve of the flaps called 'lips.' He's human. I hate him. He's a smuggler. I hate him. He might add to my database of information. I'll tolerate his presence. Speak, meat, so I may analyze you. "State your purpose, strange one."
"I hear you're the head of all infochants on Nar Shaddaa. I have someone I'd like more dirt on, you know, hurt him where he lives." Anakin paused for effect. "Someone else I know might have been here before me, snooping around, a little green troll and a gorgeous Twi'lek. I'll stick it to them, too, understand?" Another beat. "Credits are no object. Been lucky at the sabacc tables lately."
Anakin's adopted homeworld of Tatooine served him well today because his desert accent, little changed since his boyhood, made 8t88's extremely perceptive audio sensors run a full diagnostic on his voice, decide that Alapmi was suitably roughhewn and therefore the flowcharts of 8t88's heuristic processors ended at 'yes --- acceptable to do business with.' 8t88 stopped patting Grendel, who rolled onto his side with a groan and a fart. 8t88 switched off his nasal receptors. "How many credits can you generate? I can imagine quite a bit."
"Two ... and a half million." Start low. Negotiate from there. Thanks, Master. The hornagaunt's emissions did not compare to a bantha's.
8t88 considered. Two and a half million from this lowlife must represent nearly all his resources, though appearances could be deceiving. Look at me, my head is tiny in proportion to my structure, and yet it could flood this room with information and mockery for these sycophants. "Two and a half million will cover one of your requests. The troll and the blue beauty will be again as much."
Five million is nearly all I have, excluding mad money for fuel to get home with. Anakin stroked his beard in that way that Obi-Wan had. He knew why now. The habit made him thoughtfully slow to respond. "Sign a contract?"
There was a tapping noise from 8t88's interior that could have been gears grinding, could have been derisive laughter, Anakin couldn't tell. "I insist on it." The Tiss'shar talons that served for 8t88's hands sheared off the roll of flimsi that issued from a slot in the droid's thin torso. Beckoning like a courtesan? There was no other term for it. "Approach me, Alapmi."
Anakin forgot to swagger on his way up to the dais, sidestepping the twitching hornagaunt. 8t88 projected a holocopy of the agreement in the air in front of the Jedi. Receipt for five million credits in cash for information regarding three beings: Troll, Twi'lek and ________ One time use only. No return policy. Anakin added 'Count Dooku' in the blank, signed his flimsi copy of the agreement and pocketed it. The flimsi was coded to archive any information that 8t88 came up with. Dooku's name appeared on the hologram. Anakin dug in his vestpocket and handed over the credits in their clear purse, mentally waving goodbye to them. He didn't even squeak when Dooku's name appeared. He is good.
The droid flexed his silver skeleton-body in something that might have been a stretch. He sounded in need of an oil bath. Anakin kept grinning, tilting his head to his shoulder in a way that he had rehearsed with Obi-Wan as a mannerism. "Oh, yes, you're winsome," Obi-Wan had said. "Push down harder. You're activating your transponder." There was a skek noise and a tiny pain that reverberated in his arm implants as the transponder recorded the droid's words. They would appear on the flimsi to take away with him anyway, but the plan was for Obi-Wan and the Temple to begin work immediately on whatever was sent. 'Chip on my shoulder,' Ferus used to mutter that when he thought I couldn't hear him. Wonder what he's up to these days. Anakin had placed a real bantha chip on his shoulder the day that Greedo and he had their fight, the one that Qui-Gon had broken up. Cheating was something that Anakin had never done as a youngling, and when Greedo accused him of it, Anakin had remembered his mother's words and given the other the chance to think things through. Greedo's temper flared anyway and when the Rodian had knocked the chip to the ground, the scuffle began. Now I've got a real chip on my shoulder. Hope the Temple is getting all this.
"The hirsute creature known as the Troll and his partner Oola performed magic tricks for my entourage. They used the Force, they said." They were non-human. I bore their company slightly better than yours. "They had an offer from a Hologram Fun World talent scout and gave notice. Go there if you wish to derail their careers or blast them. Grendel misses them, doesn't ums, essie does, ess, ess ... " Grendel had awakened and grunted his pleasure at the droid's scratching metal digits before resuming his nap. "They never mentioned Dooku, but they did need my input for an illusion that I desired. I allowed them use use use offf of offfffffhrrrrmmmmdenied them use of my datajacks. It would have taken them three minutes to access the trick's procedures, but that would have been three minutes without my conscious control." Anakin recognized Aayla's fine hand in the erasure of her work. Three minutes were most likely all they could acquire without the majordomo's interference or more likely, the protective hornagaunt's becoming suspicious and rending both Yoda and Aayla like a terentatek. The chip that Obi-Wan and the rest labored over in the Analysis Room represented many weeks of Yoda's and Aayla's shamming through performance after performance, enough time to establish familiarity so that they could approach this paranoid droid.
"Dooku, ah yes. The political leader of the CIS has been sighted on Jabiim and then most recently on Ossus. He has never come to my world and he never shall, Captain." Anakin agreed. Nar Shaddaa's grunginess would not suit the aristocratic Dooku. He would find it too distasteful to bear. Five million credits for this? Push, Anakin.
"Ossus. Well, thank you. I'd not let it get around that you gave me something that I could have found out on my own, Your Highness, so why don't you give me a little more? Come on, if anyone can do it, you can! Any transactions you can trace? I'm sure he doesn't lack for funds, but how about any draws on his accounts from the Banking Clan? You and I both know he wouldn't carry around cash and bartering trade routes for materiel can get you only so far --- "
When Grendel awakens, he'll be hungry. Stick around a little longer, meat, and entertain me with your blood. "Alapmi, hear me. You're pushing."
Pull back, work on your charm. "Well, I think I'm offering you a chance to prove yourself to yourself. Add more words to this flimsi so I don't have to come back here. And in return" ---- think fast, Captain Alapmi --- "if I come across any information about who pulled that head-switching stunt on you, I'll comm you. That is, if you'll accept my comm, I know how busy you are heading up your little empire here --- "
Tit for tat, meat. "You have bold programming. Take care it doesn't backfire on you, strange one. One minute." The droid went motionless the way that Artoo and Threepio did when they powered down, no breath to mark them as alive, no little sleeping twitches such as Obi-Wan gave nowadays. Obi-Wan, if at all possible I'll work my way back to you when you need me most. But the mission comes first. Anakin marked the time by his pounding heartbeats and when he had reached eighty-five, 8t88's tapping noise resumed.
"A search for homes on several worlds in the Outer Rim. Funding requests to Muunilinst from an interim comm relay near Dantooine. Tatooine information request regarding the Hutts from the Separatist base on Mos Osnoe." 8t88's foot roused Grendel, who yawned, showing all his fangs. "Enough. Take your contract and leave, strange one. That's enough information to hold you." The droid prodded Grendel into a standing position. Anakin could tell that his audience was over.
"I'll be back." Always leave an opening to return, Obi-Wan said. Don't burn bridges.
"Get in line. With more credits. And if, by chance, you find the name of the prankster who did this to me --- "
You had no loyalty to Yoda and Aayla, your employees for months, why should I feel anything for you? "I'll comm you. I can be bought." On the hunt again. Nar Shaddaa, Muunilinst, Tatooine, Dantooine. Mid-Rim to Outer Rim again. I'll need to secure more funds on the credstick. Wartime has driven up fuel prices outrageously.
"Don't let the security forces shred you on your way out. They have been known to be overzealous, those Wookiees of mine." Especially that one with the bandolier. Must give his young human friend extra gruel tomorrow morning.
One week later, outside Yoon's Youngling Boutique on Coruscant ...
Ferus folded his hands inside his winter cloak's sleeves, his breath steaming in the cold night air. "It's been an eventful six months, Siri."
Siri softened her approach after an initial crustiness. Ferus is seeing you voluntarily after he has been Knighted, Cranky-Wan. Don't be ungrateful. "I went to your quarters after my mission to Orto and you had moved out, that's all." Siri folded over her shopping bag to obscure its contents from her former Padawan. Inside were two flagrant examples of Palo's My Little Gualaar fripperies, matching onesies sized 'human/near-human/humanoid, birth to three months' decorated with fuzzy stylized gualaars. Siri had heard that twins came earlier than singleton births and wanted to be ready with appropriate gifts for the occasion.
"I'm Master Yoda's ombudsman, Siri. I'm footloose and fancy free, and I can live outside the Temple, alone or, or not. I'm ready." I've got to ask. Your opinion still means a lot to me. "Do you think I'm ready?"
My boy, my boy. "It's time. I love you, Ferus." It is not soft, not weak to say this. She plucked a stray thread from his tunic and he caught her hand.
"You've never told me that."
"Oh, I did, when you were sick after Euceron and couldn't hear me. But now you can."
"I love you, too." They embraced fiercely. Ferus turned to the somber young woman waiting two steps behind him, one step to the right. "This is my friend, Ommane Retbax, the Junior Senator from Naboo. We met when I was undercover protecting Palo of Naboo. Ommane, my former Master, Siri Tachi." Master, please like her.
"Master Tachi."
"Representative Retbax." Ommane bowed first to Siri, who bowed back. They both turned questioning eyes to Ferus, who was beaming.
They like each other! "Siri, Ommane and I are heading out to celebrate the New Year at Eastport's Spacer Lounge. Join us?"
"That's fine, Ferus, and no, thank you. Obi-Wan and I have some catching up to do." Do we ever.
Siri bridled when Ommane took Ferus' arm and Ferus closed his hand over her fingers, smiling back over his shoulder at Siri as they walked away. First complaint from Jedi Master Siri Tachi, Ombudsman Olin. This person will use you and you, my baby nerfling, don't even know it. She pursed her lips to make an accipipteros' morning screech and when the two young people looked back at her, Siri looked into the distance as if she, too, wondered where the sound came from. Ferus didn't break stride walking away, but Ommane looked back over her shoulder and made a wry moue at Siri. Siri studied Ommane's aura and then her hazel eyes and saw a rose-pink of happiness peeking through the hard yellow of Ommane's efficiency. All right, maybe you are acceptable. For his sake, let's say so. Ommane slid her left hand into Ferus' right and they swung hands like Initiate Mimo and Initiate Liam did when walking behind Master Ali-Anann.
TBC
"And just why should His Highness see you?" snapped a protocol droid, bloated with self-importance in its position as 8t88's majordomo. The large overhead fans pushed the heated air of 8t88's penthouse foyer downwards into the antechamber, which scorned seating for inferior sentients such as humans. Anakin had been waiting in a line outside the main entrance of the tatty five-story building in the winter rain and slush for two hours since dawn today, sizing up whether or not he could mind control the Phlog guarding the door. He was in no mood to lose his advantage in the line of supplicants for this droid's favors. He was particularly not anxious to see the sludge of Nar Shaddaa once more, either the living sludge of down-on-their-luck beings or the detritus of a society whose infrastructure included few garbage pickups. The stench alone nearly made him drop his character. He swore it gathered in his beard, where he smelled it everytime he inhaled. I'll shave the beard right after this meeting. Obi-Wan, you win.
Anakin held his ground as he thought a tough smuggler might. He glowered, he swaggered, he curled his lip into a smirk. Shifting one hip forward, tapping his blaster meaningfully, he drawled, "This says so." He flung a handful of thousand credit doubloons on the countertop of the majordomo's work station. "And these," he rumbled, putting on the face that had appeared on Palo's rendition of him in the holocard run of Jousting Jedi. No frown, he thought, no sneer, just portray purpose. And he did.
The droid's optical receptors brightened. Apparently, 8t88 had programmed his own greed into his staff. The droid clawed the currency into its internal cash drawer. Anakin could see troguts, pokes of aurodium dust and some bills of small denominations, along with crystalline vertex and lowly decicreds. All currency is grist for 8t88's mill. Even Gardulla turned up her tail at decicreds
"Boy!" A human 'tween who was all gangly limbs with the threat of more gangliness in his next five years trotted up, wiping his nose on a sleeve that used to be white. He looked as if regular meals were a longheld dream. What would an info droid know of child care, thought Anakin, and pitied the boy with the scab on his chin. "Boy, show this one to the Throne Room." Anakin sauntered down the corridor after the boy, who stole a look backward and adopted the same gait. Anakin supposed the boy didn't see many fellow humans and was craving a role model. How could he bear it, living only with droids?
The boy pressed the slender hands of a musician or a mechanic against the seams of his worn black trousers and bobbed a rough bow to his employer. "Captain Alapmi!" he announced, then gave a sly wink to Anakin as he departed through the aurodium-plated door. Eh, he'll be all right somehow.
Anakin made a show of staring at the sleepy hornagaunt's solid aurodium collar and the similar expensive water dish and then turned his attention casually, disrespectfully to the droid reclining on the dais. Don't push the attitude, don't look at his head, don't mention its tiny disproportionate size, do not use the word 'head' at all. The hornagaunt began to snore, its wingstubs quivering. Anakin recalled the beast's name was Grendel. The scar on Anakin's face that makeup extended sideways to his ear and up to his hairline hadn't intimidated the formidable creature at all, nor had the cast to the eye that the scar transfixed. It had been a near thing that his eye had not a whitish cast for real.
8t88 took in the Glarsaur hide vest and the odd curve of the flaps called 'lips.' He's human. I hate him. He's a smuggler. I hate him. He might add to my database of information. I'll tolerate his presence. Speak, meat, so I may analyze you. "State your purpose, strange one."
"I hear you're the head of all infochants on Nar Shaddaa. I have someone I'd like more dirt on, you know, hurt him where he lives." Anakin paused for effect. "Someone else I know might have been here before me, snooping around, a little green troll and a gorgeous Twi'lek. I'll stick it to them, too, understand?" Another beat. "Credits are no object. Been lucky at the sabacc tables lately."
Anakin's adopted homeworld of Tatooine served him well today because his desert accent, little changed since his boyhood, made 8t88's extremely perceptive audio sensors run a full diagnostic on his voice, decide that Alapmi was suitably roughhewn and therefore the flowcharts of 8t88's heuristic processors ended at 'yes --- acceptable to do business with.' 8t88 stopped patting Grendel, who rolled onto his side with a groan and a fart. 8t88 switched off his nasal receptors. "How many credits can you generate? I can imagine quite a bit."
"Two ... and a half million." Start low. Negotiate from there. Thanks, Master. The hornagaunt's emissions did not compare to a bantha's.
8t88 considered. Two and a half million from this lowlife must represent nearly all his resources, though appearances could be deceiving. Look at me, my head is tiny in proportion to my structure, and yet it could flood this room with information and mockery for these sycophants. "Two and a half million will cover one of your requests. The troll and the blue beauty will be again as much."
Five million is nearly all I have, excluding mad money for fuel to get home with. Anakin stroked his beard in that way that Obi-Wan had. He knew why now. The habit made him thoughtfully slow to respond. "Sign a contract?"
There was a tapping noise from 8t88's interior that could have been gears grinding, could have been derisive laughter, Anakin couldn't tell. "I insist on it." The Tiss'shar talons that served for 8t88's hands sheared off the roll of flimsi that issued from a slot in the droid's thin torso. Beckoning like a courtesan? There was no other term for it. "Approach me, Alapmi."
Anakin forgot to swagger on his way up to the dais, sidestepping the twitching hornagaunt. 8t88 projected a holocopy of the agreement in the air in front of the Jedi. Receipt for five million credits in cash for information regarding three beings: Troll, Twi'lek and ________ One time use only. No return policy. Anakin added 'Count Dooku' in the blank, signed his flimsi copy of the agreement and pocketed it. The flimsi was coded to archive any information that 8t88 came up with. Dooku's name appeared on the hologram. Anakin dug in his vestpocket and handed over the credits in their clear purse, mentally waving goodbye to them. He didn't even squeak when Dooku's name appeared. He is good.
The droid flexed his silver skeleton-body in something that might have been a stretch. He sounded in need of an oil bath. Anakin kept grinning, tilting his head to his shoulder in a way that he had rehearsed with Obi-Wan as a mannerism. "Oh, yes, you're winsome," Obi-Wan had said. "Push down harder. You're activating your transponder." There was a skek noise and a tiny pain that reverberated in his arm implants as the transponder recorded the droid's words. They would appear on the flimsi to take away with him anyway, but the plan was for Obi-Wan and the Temple to begin work immediately on whatever was sent. 'Chip on my shoulder,' Ferus used to mutter that when he thought I couldn't hear him. Wonder what he's up to these days. Anakin had placed a real bantha chip on his shoulder the day that Greedo and he had their fight, the one that Qui-Gon had broken up. Cheating was something that Anakin had never done as a youngling, and when Greedo accused him of it, Anakin had remembered his mother's words and given the other the chance to think things through. Greedo's temper flared anyway and when the Rodian had knocked the chip to the ground, the scuffle began. Now I've got a real chip on my shoulder. Hope the Temple is getting all this.
"The hirsute creature known as the Troll and his partner Oola performed magic tricks for my entourage. They used the Force, they said." They were non-human. I bore their company slightly better than yours. "They had an offer from a Hologram Fun World talent scout and gave notice. Go there if you wish to derail their careers or blast them. Grendel misses them, doesn't ums, essie does, ess, ess ... " Grendel had awakened and grunted his pleasure at the droid's scratching metal digits before resuming his nap. "They never mentioned Dooku, but they did need my input for an illusion that I desired. I allowed them use use use offf of offfffffhrrrrmmmmdenied them use of my datajacks. It would have taken them three minutes to access the trick's procedures, but that would have been three minutes without my conscious control." Anakin recognized Aayla's fine hand in the erasure of her work. Three minutes were most likely all they could acquire without the majordomo's interference or more likely, the protective hornagaunt's becoming suspicious and rending both Yoda and Aayla like a terentatek. The chip that Obi-Wan and the rest labored over in the Analysis Room represented many weeks of Yoda's and Aayla's shamming through performance after performance, enough time to establish familiarity so that they could approach this paranoid droid.
"Dooku, ah yes. The political leader of the CIS has been sighted on Jabiim and then most recently on Ossus. He has never come to my world and he never shall, Captain." Anakin agreed. Nar Shaddaa's grunginess would not suit the aristocratic Dooku. He would find it too distasteful to bear. Five million credits for this? Push, Anakin.
"Ossus. Well, thank you. I'd not let it get around that you gave me something that I could have found out on my own, Your Highness, so why don't you give me a little more? Come on, if anyone can do it, you can! Any transactions you can trace? I'm sure he doesn't lack for funds, but how about any draws on his accounts from the Banking Clan? You and I both know he wouldn't carry around cash and bartering trade routes for materiel can get you only so far --- "
When Grendel awakens, he'll be hungry. Stick around a little longer, meat, and entertain me with your blood. "Alapmi, hear me. You're pushing."
Pull back, work on your charm. "Well, I think I'm offering you a chance to prove yourself to yourself. Add more words to this flimsi so I don't have to come back here. And in return" ---- think fast, Captain Alapmi --- "if I come across any information about who pulled that head-switching stunt on you, I'll comm you. That is, if you'll accept my comm, I know how busy you are heading up your little empire here --- "
Tit for tat, meat. "You have bold programming. Take care it doesn't backfire on you, strange one. One minute." The droid went motionless the way that Artoo and Threepio did when they powered down, no breath to mark them as alive, no little sleeping twitches such as Obi-Wan gave nowadays. Obi-Wan, if at all possible I'll work my way back to you when you need me most. But the mission comes first. Anakin marked the time by his pounding heartbeats and when he had reached eighty-five, 8t88's tapping noise resumed.
"A search for homes on several worlds in the Outer Rim. Funding requests to Muunilinst from an interim comm relay near Dantooine. Tatooine information request regarding the Hutts from the Separatist base on Mos Osnoe." 8t88's foot roused Grendel, who yawned, showing all his fangs. "Enough. Take your contract and leave, strange one. That's enough information to hold you." The droid prodded Grendel into a standing position. Anakin could tell that his audience was over.
"I'll be back." Always leave an opening to return, Obi-Wan said. Don't burn bridges.
"Get in line. With more credits. And if, by chance, you find the name of the prankster who did this to me --- "
You had no loyalty to Yoda and Aayla, your employees for months, why should I feel anything for you? "I'll comm you. I can be bought." On the hunt again. Nar Shaddaa, Muunilinst, Tatooine, Dantooine. Mid-Rim to Outer Rim again. I'll need to secure more funds on the credstick. Wartime has driven up fuel prices outrageously.
"Don't let the security forces shred you on your way out. They have been known to be overzealous, those Wookiees of mine." Especially that one with the bandolier. Must give his young human friend extra gruel tomorrow morning.
One week later, outside Yoon's Youngling Boutique on Coruscant ...
Ferus folded his hands inside his winter cloak's sleeves, his breath steaming in the cold night air. "It's been an eventful six months, Siri."
Siri softened her approach after an initial crustiness. Ferus is seeing you voluntarily after he has been Knighted, Cranky-Wan. Don't be ungrateful. "I went to your quarters after my mission to Orto and you had moved out, that's all." Siri folded over her shopping bag to obscure its contents from her former Padawan. Inside were two flagrant examples of Palo's My Little Gualaar fripperies, matching onesies sized 'human/near-human/humanoid, birth to three months' decorated with fuzzy stylized gualaars. Siri had heard that twins came earlier than singleton births and wanted to be ready with appropriate gifts for the occasion.
"I'm Master Yoda's ombudsman, Siri. I'm footloose and fancy free, and I can live outside the Temple, alone or, or not. I'm ready." I've got to ask. Your opinion still means a lot to me. "Do you think I'm ready?"
My boy, my boy. "It's time. I love you, Ferus." It is not soft, not weak to say this. She plucked a stray thread from his tunic and he caught her hand.
"You've never told me that."
"Oh, I did, when you were sick after Euceron and couldn't hear me. But now you can."
"I love you, too." They embraced fiercely. Ferus turned to the somber young woman waiting two steps behind him, one step to the right. "This is my friend, Ommane Retbax, the Junior Senator from Naboo. We met when I was undercover protecting Palo of Naboo. Ommane, my former Master, Siri Tachi." Master, please like her.
"Master Tachi."
"Representative Retbax." Ommane bowed first to Siri, who bowed back. They both turned questioning eyes to Ferus, who was beaming.
They like each other! "Siri, Ommane and I are heading out to celebrate the New Year at Eastport's Spacer Lounge. Join us?"
"That's fine, Ferus, and no, thank you. Obi-Wan and I have some catching up to do." Do we ever.
Siri bridled when Ommane took Ferus' arm and Ferus closed his hand over her fingers, smiling back over his shoulder at Siri as they walked away. First complaint from Jedi Master Siri Tachi, Ombudsman Olin. This person will use you and you, my baby nerfling, don't even know it. She pursed her lips to make an accipipteros' morning screech and when the two young people looked back at her, Siri looked into the distance as if she, too, wondered where the sound came from. Ferus didn't break stride walking away, but Ommane looked back over her shoulder and made a wry moue at Siri. Siri studied Ommane's aura and then her hazel eyes and saw a rose-pink of happiness peeking through the hard yellow of Ommane's efficiency. All right, maybe you are acceptable. For his sake, let's say so. Ommane slid her left hand into Ferus' right and they swung hands like Initiate Mimo and Initiate Liam did when walking behind Master Ali-Anann.
TBC