--

Tatooine, Outside of Mos Espa....

A wasted effort. How did Iseult even get into Mos Espa? She guessed that the Jedi, Iseult was shacking up with had taught her all kinds of tricks. Jedi, the word reminded her of 'Grace', Aurora sneered. It was Grace who put her in this situation. Grace who almost convinced her that the light was the only way and to turn away from her duty and obligation as the leader of the Generationals. Aurora never wanted war. But after her Father started it; it was Aurora's obligation as First Captain to follow it to its conclusion. None of them ever imagined that Mrysti would take the unprecedented step of destroying the Generational Ship they all used as their home for over a thousand years. But after being back in the known galaxy since the war and having experience in dealing with Sith since that time; it made sense. The Sith were a ruthless and action driven type. And Mrysti was the extreme of the entire lot.

Nothing was more important than family. Even if it hurt them, sometimes that duty needed to be forced for their own good. It didn't dawn on Aurora that her own family was poison, not just the distant part of the family that Grace belonged to.

Being sent on an errand by someone she absolutely had no respect for was one of the lowest things that could happen. But none of the things Aurora planned for after breaking her father out of the De’nabre dungeon came to pass. It had, In fact, gotten worse. The Organization she was originally hired by was almost completely destroyed. It’s founder and CEO in a kolto tank for the foreseeable future and the only one in any position of authority WAS her father. How could it get any worse?

'Allies', he said. They needed allies. Allies that not only supported their cause but also had similar enemies. Aurora walked down the darkened alleyway and adjusted her cloak, opening it up so her saber hilt was readily accessible. It had nothing to do with being spooky, she could sense her contact. And that level of Force sensitivity paid off. Aurora stepped back in what seemed like slow motion to the slash of a red lightsaber to her front. A similarly cloaked figure, wearing a face covering as she did stepped out after trying to slash at her, angling the red saber back toward her.

Mize sensed her coming. But not Aurora, per se. He sensed a 'De'nabre'. The essence of it reeked of his former Master, Mrysti. Whoever this was, it was not Mrysti. The size and evil were all wrong. But the essence was there. Meaning, Mrysti had obviously sent them. This one was Mirialan, related. And all after he graciously reached out to the "organization' to lend his assistance. The audacity of it all stung him.

“I asked to be met by someone of my station…not ambushed by my enemies!!” The figure slashed at Aurora again. She leaned back, hand on her hilt and ducked as the figure slashed and then swung the lightsaber where her head was moments before. The blade hit the brick wall and sparked off, the figure advancing to attack. “Well, this will send a clear message to HER. Don’t send one of your own to do the job.”

Aurora did not speak, gritting her teeth. She had enough. After having to deal with a sister which turned her back on not only her, but the family. Aurora was ready to kill whoever this was. Only the promise made stopped her. Again, she had a duty; an obligation. The blue blades of her sabers ignited from within her cloak as she reached out and blocked the figure's next attack. The blue of the plasma blades gave the attacker pause, the figure stepping back.

“A Jedi blade…then she didn’t send you. No matter, I have no love for her sister either!!”

No time to even piece together what the madman was saying and he was definitely a man. Aurora blocked again, spinning to catch the next slash of the attacker and spinning into his attack. She thrust out a hand, fingers pronated off the edge of one hilt. Pushing the assailant into the far wall. He quickly bounced off as if never thrown, coming down hard on the overhead block from Aurora. They were suddenly mask to mask with one another.

“You tell her…after I am through with you, I come for her!! YOU TELL HER!!!” Aurora scoffed and forced the much smaller man off of the blade with sheer strength. Not the typical female size, Aurora carried the traits of the De’nabre. Perhaps that was part of what confused the man. She started to advance and stopped, seeing the figure stop as well, but holding the lightsaber out in front of himself. “Speak!!! Say something before I kill you!!!”

“You’re a moron.” Aurora uttered plainly. The figure cocked his head. It was enough of a distraction that she thrust the hand out again. This time the figure took the full brunt of a Distortion in the Force; slamming back into the wall he previously bounced off of. Aurora held the sabers at her side approaching. The attackers saber deactivating and clattering off into the darkness. Once she was standing over the figure, she looked down. “Please tell me you’re not the one I am supposed to meet…”

Under the mask, the figure looked up and uttered through a pained breath. “Mize…LORD Mize….and you are?”

Scoffing under the mask, Aurora shook her head and deactivated her sabers. They disappeared under the darkness of her cloak. "NOT the one you want to kriff with...."

--

- Galactic Senate Administrative Building, Galactic City, Coruscant....

This was a lesson Karolin had no idea she would need. They always looked so different on the holo-net. Senators, always official and formal in front of the cameras. It made sense, everything was very informal and casual behind closed doors and when the cameras were off. Standing in the room with the raking members of the Galactic Senate, they were all smiles. Even the ones who were supposed to be enemies. The ones Karolin knew were enemies. It was with one of those fake smiles a very casual Senator from Alderaan approached and bowed slightly.

“Master De’nabre…” he spoke softly, with a slight hint of a politician’s façade. Karolin noticed he was much taller in person and a lot more handsome. “…or should I say, ‘Senator’ now.” The Senator extended his hand. “Reginald Panteer…I am supposed to talk you through all of this today. Consider me your designated, 'Mentor', a 'Jedi Master' in the art of navigating the Senate.” The Senator laughed at his own joke invoking the Jedi at Karolin's expense. She was not amused. Karolin looked around annoyed before graciously taking the man’s hand and shaking. “Woah…quite a grip there. Guess it’s the Force, right?” He was trying to make another joke. “Anyway, after the swearing in we are all going into a closed-door session to choose committee assignments for the ‘freshmen’ Senators. I understand you’ve expressed interest in the Armed Service Committee. I have to tell you, that’s usually reserved for—”

Jes prepared Karolin well for this part. Politics existed as much inside the Senate as it did outside of the chamber. No one wanted Karolin on that committee. For obvious reasons. She campaigned as a war hawk, one who promoted the conflict with the Sith and vowed to see them destroyed. Not everyone shared that sentiment or at least the same view as to how to go about doing it.

“—more senior members.” Karolin interrupted him. “Senator, I happen to fall into an entirely different category. I understand that provisional members of the Senate have no true votes but can speak on various committees the people they represent are interested in.” His face lost half of the smile, he knew instantly where she was going. They were never going to learn to not try and outsmart someone with an intellect like Karolin’s. And with Mirial still on a 'provisional' status as their membership was still being debated; Karolin could literally go anywhere.

“Y-Yes that’s true, Senator but—”

“—I want. Rather, MY people wish to have a voice on the Armed Services Committee. I understand I am unable to vote, but in this case it is a huge advantage. I can go where ever my people wish me to voice their concerns. Mirial is concerned with the Military Readiness of the Republic. We were just visited by the Sith, we do not wish to repeat that exercise.”

“I will—uh—forward your request Senator.”

“Thank you…now where do I stand. I am anxious to get to work.”

"Over here..." The Senator from Alderaan lost the smile, hesitating and graciously directing Karolin where she needed to go. Once she was standing in front of the magistrate he smiled at her.

"Senator De'nabre...if you will raise your right hand and repeat after me. I...state your name...."

--

Administrative Offices, ‘The End’….

The incidents increasing, Colonel Talia Rickter was fast running out of options. Though this particular incident didn’t directly involve Mrysti, Talia had been around enough Sith to know that even their mere presence sometimes incited violence in others. Out of curiosity, she was reviewing the incident reports going back a full year, before Mrysti's arrival. Until she arrived, the violent incident report sat at roughly average. That was expected in a prison with the types of individuals they housed. After her arrival, it skyrocketed a mind-blowing two-hundred percent. Darth Retuvisa was not doing Colonel Rickter any favors.

Holo-stills of the laundry facility lay scattered across her desk. Colonel Rickter had been down there after the incident. But the pictures were a fresh reminder of what a mess someone had made. By all accounts the inmate in question, one of Captain Oberisk's 'trustees' had it coming. The thug was implicated in more than a dozen rapes and those were just the ones the AI had witnessed. The Warden took no action against any of them, blatantly allowing Captain Oberisk to run things as he saw fit. They all immediately believed Mrysti was responsible for the thug's death, even with the blood covered Mandalorian tracking the thug's remains back to his own quad. Talia laughed to herself, if Mrysti had done it, it would have been a lot worse. The Warden and the Captain had no idea the power of the one they were kriffing with.

The Warden, was beside himself. Before he could do more than throw inmate M-1108 in the hole, Colonel Rickter sent the Warden a message informing him she was taking charge of the situation. Basically robbing the Warden of any opportunity to use the incident to get closer to Mrysti. But, with things happening at the rate they were in that particular cellblock, Colonel Rickter had already come to a decision. She was going to have to go see….Darth Retuvisa. If for no other reason than to calm things down. And on some level, she was curious. Moving the holo-still aside, she looked down at the datapad file which detailed Darth Retuvisa's illustrious career. A holo of Mrysti sat in the upper corner. The look, even in holo-net blue looked intimidating.

Multiple tours of duty didn't even begin to detail the service Mrysti had given to the Empire. Most of the file was redacted or gave reference to full incident reports. Reports that Colonel Rickter had no access to. But being an officer for some time and having to deal with reports of that nature gave her some insight. No doubt all of the details of the classified files would tell a story of how Mrysti did things and acted in ways which prevented any 'normal' person's understanding of what took place. Sith, didn't recieve awards or medals. The honors they were given stood in title and position. 'The Hammer of the Empire' was a title that very few obtained and struck fear into the hearts of enemies. If the 'Hammer' was being sent by the Empire; the enemy was already on notice.

Looking down at the holo-screen monitor, she noticed Captain Oberisk coming out of the Warden’s office in a bit of a hurry. Talia got up out of her seat and walked to her door. It slid open just as the Captain passed and as Colonel Rickter cleared her voice. The Captain pretended not to hear or see the Colonel, making it necessary to call him out. “Captain…a word if you please….” The man stopped reluctantly, turning with a forced smile.

“Colonel…how lovely to see you. If you don’t mind, I am in a bit of a hurry. The latest incident has necessitated a need to increase security and I’m—”

“Actually…” Colonel Rickter glared. “…I do mind.” She moved to the side, allowing the doorway to get wider. The Captain entered and stood at the foot of the desk as Colonel Rickter moved back behind it and sat down. He said nothing, looking fidgety and pressed for time even glancing at his chrono. She smiled, clasping her hands on the desk deliberately taking her own time. “Captain, I won’t belabor the point with you or bother asking what errand the Warden has you on—”

“I told you, Ma’am…I am off to beef security around the common areas and—”

“I’m not finished.” Talia let out an exasperated sigh. “You…have been away from the flag far too long, Captain. Interrupting a superior officer while they are speaking. It’s either being away from the flag that has allowed you to lapse in your decorum or…it’s that you simply don’t care.” Talia smiled wickedly, sitting back in her seat. “Do you think I’m a joke, Captain?”

The question caught him off guard. He stammered. “E-Excuse me, Ma’am?”

“Now, it’s a medical emergency.” She sat back up sharply slamming her hands down on the desk, her face twisting in anger.

“I’m s-sorry, I don’t under—”

“-that’s crystal clear. You don’t understand. I would add a hearing ailment to that previous list. Instead, I will let you in on a little secret, Captain. You are backing the wrong side on this one. And, though you and the Warden may think I am a joke and that I have no power in this place…allow me to demonstrate just how much power I do have.” Talia pressed the comm button on her desk. “Get in here.” The door slid open and one of Talia’s personal black armored troopers walked in, snapping to attention. She looked back at the Captain. “Now…Captain Oberisk, I am going to ask you the question again. And if you feign ignorance, hesitate or pretend you didn’t hear me once again, I will order my guard to shoot you where you stand.” At her words, the guard lowered his carbine with military precision. It whined loudly; powering up from safe to fire. The guard stood unmoving aiming the carbine at Captain Oberisk. “DO. YOU. THINK. I’M. A. JOKE?”

“No…no Ma’am…” Captain Oberisk answered immediately. Looking between the Colonel and the Guard, the Captain swallowed hard.

“Good, very good. I think I can take medical emergency off the list. So, that leaves….being away from garrison too long or…” Talia smiled wickedly again, “…you simply don’t care.” The Captain tightened his position of attention as Colonel Rickter got up from her seat. She circled him, going alongside the man, but not in the way of her guard who still had the weapon trained on him. “Captain, I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about me. That I was some cheap harlot, who slept her way to the top. And while some or maybe all of that ‘could’ be true; what I guarantee the rumor mongers did not tell you is…I am also a decorated combat commander. That I have successfully eliminated over a thousand enemy combatants within my various commands; destroyed countless billions of credits worth of men and material.” She sat down on an end table, staring at the Captain. “Now, knowing that…whom would you trust to lead an army to victory…me, or a bureaucrat who has never had the sands of a battle field on the soles of his shoes?”

Still afraid of getting shot, The Captain answered immediately. “You, Ma’am!!”

“Now, that’s a good chap…but…” Talia stood up again, rounding the Captain and coming up behind him. “…I think you are only telling me what I want to hear. Telling me whatever will end this in order to leave this office and go execute whatever order the Warden has seen fit to place upon you…or did he?” Talia finished by asking herself the question, the Captain tried to answer anyway.

“He ordered me to—”

“That was for me Captain, I was asking myself that question. So, save the lie you were about to tell me for later. We’ll get to that....” Talia started rounding him again, coming up on the other side. “I certainly hope he didn’t give you free reign to execute his orders however YOU see fit. I believe in discipline, Captain Oberisk. Junior officers must be led and molded to one day become the shining examples of supreme leadership the Empire expects from their Officer Corps. They must be fashioned so that they learn to eventually operate on their own. Typically, I do not allow MY junior officers that kind of independence until they have proven it and that usually comes around the time they have attained the rank of Major.” Talia stopped and glared at the Captain. “You have been operating on your own for quite some time. I don’t blame you Captain. The Warden is not a professional Military Officer, he has no knowledge on how to properly develop a junior officer. Wouldn’t you agree Captain, you need to be developed?”

The Captain looked confused as he turned his head slightly before answering. Once he did, the glare Colonel Rickter was giving him deepened and he quickly looked straight ahead again, answering quickly.

“Yes, yes ma’am…”

“Good.” Colonel Rickter said cheerfully, moving back to her desk. “You are dismissed.” The Captain seemed to sag with the weight of nearly getting executed being removed from his shoulders. He tried to quickly leave, but before he could make it to the door Colonel Rickter called out to him again. “Oh…and Captain…” The Captain halted at once, definitely a change from the way he walked into the office. Spinning around on his heels and locking up at the position of attention.

“Yes, Ma’am…”

“Do try and keep yourself out of the maximum-security wing.” Colonel Rickter got up out of her seat and walked slowly toward him with her hands clasped behind her back. When she reached him, she looked up at the junior officer. “If I see, hear or even smell the hint of you…or any of the ‘trustees’ you’ve granted liberty to…going near that wing. I will have you and every one of the prisoners under your charge executed immediately.” She smiled cheerfully. “But…I’m sure that’s NOT where you were going, were you? No need to exacerbate the situation, do we? I assure you, I have things well in hand concerning recent events…and having a junior officer mucking about in things they are neither trained for or experienced enough to deal with, well….” Talia gave a faux scoff before smiling brightly again, “….how would that look on MY record as a professional officer? That I allowed one of my junior officers to mess around and get himself killed. You…don’t want to die, do you?”

“N-No, Ma’am…”

“Good. Then we understand each other. Believe me, I have yours and everyone under my command best interest at heart. There is a very dangerous element down there in the maximum-security wing. Do be advised on conducting yourself professionally from here on out…Carry on.”

Talia was still smirking after Captain Oberisk and the Guard left. Taking her seat delicately, she reached under the surface and flipped a switch, opening a hidden channel into the Warden’s office. Almost as soon as she did, the holo-comm in his office chimed. She heard the man go back to his desk from whatever he was doing, sit down and activate the unit.

Flipping the switch off, Talia sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. The smile widening as she counted silently to herself.

“…10..9..8…7…”

The comm on her desk buzzed. Talia sat up and flipped the desk comm. “Yes…I am quite busy, please hold all appointments…”

Talia paused on purpose, continuing her silent count. Once it ran out, she smiled again.

“Please inform the Warden, that I will see him at MY earliest convenience. And allow him to look at my schedule, if he wishes….he may make an appointment. Until then, he is excused…”

Flipping the comm off, Talia felt her heart jump with glee. Outside, she could hear the Warden yell, stomp away as the door to his own office closed behind him. Sometimes, it was the little things that made all of it worthwhile.

--

--

Galactic City, Coruscant - High Rise Residential….

The flight to Coruscant was uneventful. Both sisters exchanging few words and Sam insisting on being allowed to pilot. Grace stayed in the back, busying herself reading the law involving wills and powers of attorney. Not to arm herself against her Aunt, but just to be more knowledgeable. Once they received clearance and landed, Grace moved forward to collect her sister while the landing cycle finished. The ship shuttered with the vibration of finally settling on the landing pad inside of the starport. Both sisters moving to the ramp as it lowered. Sam moving much faster than Grace, still angry and that anger building toward crescendo with the arrival on Coruscant.

Both took another silent ride to 8000 Republica. The building in which Karolin and the rest of the family had an apartment. Though Karolin was planning on relocating. Now that she was a public figure, her advisers were telling Karolin to get some place where there was more guards and more walls between herself and the rest of the Republic. It was strange, the more public one got in a job like representing people; the farther away they seemed to get from the same people they represented. Not that Karolin minded being further away, she was representing Mirial and Mirial was NOT Coruscant.

Getting out of the speeder, Sam and Grace were met by several guards; all wearing lapel pins that denoted their affiliation with the Galactic Senate. Plain clothes agents, assigned to protect Senators as required. Being newly elected, it was simply a precaution till the furor surrounding Karolin died down. One of them extended a hand for the two women to stop as they scanned Sam and Grace. One of the agents noting the lightsaber on Sam’s hip. She glared and narrowed her eyes before yet another agent waved off the first. “She’s a Jedi…Order affiliation on Mirial confirmed.” They stepped aside as Sam and Grace proceeded into the grand foyer, only to be stopped by a rather small and squirrely looking attendant.

Raising up a datapad to review what the agents documented, the attendant pursed his lips. “And you’re here for…” It was a question that the agents didn’t need to ask. The speeder information that came from the starport told the agents everything they needed to know, right down to the apartment number the two were going to. The redundancy was starting to get on Sam’s nerves.

“Karolin De’nabre.” Sam said annoyingly. “My Aunt…we’re family.” She started to step aside, not willing to wait any longer as the attendant jumped in front of them both again.

“I’m sorry….do you have an appointment? The Senator is quite busy.”

Looking down at her chrono, Sam made a show of the motion then glanced outside at the coming darkness. The sun was going down behind the speeder lanes, still busy outside as Coruscant went about its daily busy life. “It’s nineteen thirty.” Sam said obliviously. As if the attendant should key in that not everyone worked non-stop. Even Senators.

Interrupting, Grace smiled warmly. Bringing her hands up in a prayer position and bowing slightly. “Ancestors watch over you…my sister and I have a matter to discuss with our Aunt. She is expecting us…” The attendant was still giving Sam the evil eye as he turned away mashing a few buttons and speaking lowly into an ear piece buried deep under a mat of wild hair and large ears. He didn’t look quite human, one couldn’t be sure on Coruscant. After a moment, the attendant stepped aside. Smiling at Grace and deliberately not looking at Sam, he flourished an arm.

“The Senator will see you….please watch your step entering the high speed lift….”

Looking over at Grace, but not before shooting an evil eye back at the attendant, Sam scoffed. “You would think she was the damn Supreme Chancellor or somethin’….” Grace smiled as the two entered the lift.

“There are rumors…” The lift started slow, but shot up quickly as the doors closed. Depositing them on the appropriate floor. They got out, walking slowly down the quiet hallway, almost surprised there were not more guards to greet them. Stopping outside the door, Grace touched Sam gently. “Now, listen…delicately, understand. We are not enemies…we are family. Approach this as such….”

--

Moving to the bar, Karolin poured herself a drink. Waving Jes off as the Echani loomed nearby. There was no reason for Jes to be so protective in front of Sam and Grace. They were family. But the vibe Jes was getting off Sam gave the Echani pause. Sam glared, crossing her arms as she watched Jes retreat into the next room. Grace nodded toward the Echani and smiled. It was good to see Jes again, the Echani returning the nod with one of her own. “I poured myself a drink…would you like one?” Karolin turned around to look at the two girls. “You both are old enough now to—”

“Cut the shit, Aunt Karolin…” Sam started immediately after Jes left. The viciousness of the tone made Grace, standing next to her sister, frown. “You gave Dad permission to shutter the home?!?! What the actual Kriff!!!”

Karolin smiled softly and leaned against the bar, drink in hand. She looked from Sam to Grace, who simply stood, hands folded to her front looking serene. The two girls showed up abruptly. Making it necessary for Karolin to both see and deal with them immediately. Luckily, it was the first few days of her administration and work allowed for it. She didn’t want to think what would have happened had she not been able to see them and asked that both her nieces ‘make an appointment’. Taking a sip of the drink, Karolin looked past them.

“It was for the good of everyone. We have the villa in town. It’s more than adequate for all of you to live in and conduct business. I’ve already had the archives moved there and—”

“--we should have been consulted.” Sam interrupted, placing a hand on her hip next to her lightsaber. “You can’t make those kinds of decisions on your own and without Mother to—”

“- YOUR MOTHER….” Karolin rose her voice, interrupting in return. Giving as good as she got, Sam and Grace were not dealing with their father anymore and Karolin wanted them to know it. “…is not here. I am. And before you say anything; I am well within my rights as the primary holder of the family finances to do as I see fit. Your Mother left your father as her primary custodian in her will, but my sister and I share the books. She’s officially ‘dead’, as far as the Empire is concerned. That puts all of what remains of her end of the estate on me.”

“But…” Grace spoke up for the first time, smiling warmly. “…you know she’s not dead. We all do.” Grace placed a hand on Sam for calm as she stepped forward. “All we are trying to say, Aunt Karolin…is that it’s too soon. And to put the technology and artifacts contained within the compound in the hands of the Republic—”

“Can you think of a better custodian?” Karolin inclined the glass as Grace spoke. “There are things here the both of you failed to consider.” Karolin sat down at a seat near the bar and released a sigh. “Look, I love you both. But you and I know, none of us have the time to monitor the compound twenty-eight/nine. And it needs attendants. The Cult has gone back to Zakuul to fight the Empire there. Oracle is in the infirmary at the Capital. The Mandalorian she had taken in with is with her. I am here now…your father…” Karolin paused and smiled. “….your father has his own destiny. That it no longer aligns with how you two wish it to be is another matter. And I believe that’s what this is really about.” Sam started to speak again, but Karolin halted her with a slow raise of the hand. “That’s neither here nor there. Your Mother and father didn’t part on the best of terms. I get it. You two are angry; frustrated at what he’s doing. But this is much deeper than anything to do with your father or your mother’s wishes. The compound is a political disaster for us, just waiting to happen. Take the last incident…Telan’dorr’s escape….” Karolin grimaced and took a sip of the liquor, looking away. “We are all damn lucky no one found out about that. And that we had him ALIVE and in captivity?!?! Can you imagine what the Republic would have said, much less done, to not only us…but Mirial would have suffered as well. This way…” Karolin let out a sigh putting the glass down. “…the Republic is satiated. In taking charge of the Generational technology they are asking no questions about the ‘incident’. Everyone is satisfied for the moment and we can move on with our lives.” Standing back up, Karolin took on a more formal posture. “You two…” Karolin pointed the hand holding the glass of liquor at the both of them, one at a time. “…the both of you have a responsibility to Mirial, just as I do now. The Sword and the Paladin of the Unity. Representatives of our Faith…” Narrowing her eyes at Sam, Karolin grimaced. “You both….need to start acting like it.” The words were directed at Sam, but she could not single out one and not address the other.

“This is intolerable!! You will not get away with this!!” Sam pointed a finger in the air as she screamed. Karolin clenching her jaw. Placing the glass down hard on the polished surface of the bar, it was Karolin’s turn to get angry. The speech and reminding the girls of their responsibility had not done its job.

“Who do you think you are?!?! Talking to me like that…little girl, you are one step away from—”

“-what?!? You’ll do what exactly?!?” Sam took a step toward Karolin as Grace moved in between them.

“Calm. Everyone.” Placing her hands out between the two; Grace smiled in each direction. “We remember, we love one another…we are family. And at this time of the year it is more important than ever.” Looking over at her sister, Grace nodded. “Aunt Karolin is right Sam, we are still the children of the family. And as long as we are, Karolin has say in what goes on. Now more than ever, since Mother is not with us.” Not mentioning their responsibility to Mirial or the Unity on purpose; Grace knew that would only further infuriate Sam.

“It won’t be that way forever….” Sam moved toward the door. Karolin and Grace watching her as she left.

“Where are you going?!?!” Karolin asked the question more to ensure that Sam wasn’t going to do something stupid.

“To find my Mother…and put an end to all of this.”

After Sam left, Karolin sat down hard on the bar stool once again, glass in hand. Grace took a more comforting pose, moving in next to her Aunt to take a seat on the next stool.

"Father..." Grace began, "...refused to leave the Order for Mother. Now...he is doing exactly what he refused to do for Mother in taking in with Iseult." Karolin looked over at Grace with a concerned frown. "Yes..." Grace continued, "I did consult our ancestors...I even looked into both of their auras. It is genuine. My father loves her. And that...is unfortunate..."

"We should wish him the best then." Karolin spoke reluctantly. "The Order will have their way with him. He will have to find a new Temple to continue to serve the Jedi, just as I had to."

"But that doesn't address the real issue." Grace frowned, looking away. Karolin laid a hand on her nieces shoulder. "I fear...I sense something dangerous afoot. I want to believe in him, I want to trust his judgement, but--"

"You are wise, Grace...much wiser than I was at your age. Trust your instincts." Karolin got up setting the glass down. "You and I both know how dangerous love is...especially for us." In speaking about it, Karolin wasn't just addressing the fact of being Jedi. De'nabre women were dangerous with emotion. A fact that both of them knew all too well.

"You're right." Grace said, "It's not my father I fear for, it's Iseult and what she might do..."

--

Coruscant Spaceport, Docking bay 32….The Works….

A job was a job, was a job. Atal’lia walked down the ramp entering the steamy quad of the underground landing bay. Much darker and more rustic than the clean areas around the main spaceport. She still had her licensing with the Bounty Brokers Association, which gave her access to the landing bays located in the Works section of Coruscant. Anyone on file currently on the planet would know she landed and that she was on contract, to include her target if they happened to be looking and had access to the same database Atal’lia pulled the job from.

Unlike other jobs, she had actually met her target once. Worked them as they were closely aligned with one of her old acquaintances. That thought made her swallow hard. What Marstel would do to her if he found out she was back on the job. And not just any job, but one that was close to him. No doubt his ‘circle’ had her marked. They would be coming for her. But for the credits the client was offering, how could she refuse? If for no other reason than just the credits, taking out a Senator was going to give her notoriety she needed again after the debacle on Mirial. Atal’lia still hadn’t lived that one down. Missing her target and then falling in with them. She was lucky to have gotten her license back at all.

Checking the datapad, she inserted the key fob making the datapad chime with her arrival and marking her position. Anyone else on the same target would see that she was also on the mark. The datapad chimed once again spitting back out information toward her; threat level, current locations and others in her vicinity. So far, so good. She moved past the broker droid and inserted her code cylinder releasing a speeder bike into her custody. More charges on an account that was close to being in the red. Soon, hopefully she would be back in the black for credits or have enough to finally fade back into obscurity.

Setting off toward the main city, the speeder bike launched out of the bay and into open air. She looked down at the readout, blue-black hair cascading out behind her as her skin bristled with the change in environment and temperature. For a moment, she disappeared against the orange-azure tinted sky. A speeder bike traveling at high speed with no driver. The sun was just going down on Coruscant. Time enough to do a quick recon of the target and find an appropriate venue from which to take a shot.

This one was not going to be easy, but Atal’lia was in it for the long haul.

--

--

- Nar Shareef, Hutt Controlled Casino #83….

It was like many of the Hutt Casinos on countless worlds. Being similar made it easy to learn how to operate in them. Waylon smiled slightly to himself as he walked in, already lifting his arms as the Cartel Guards scanned his body. Before they could reach for it, Waylon reached down and took out both blasters in their holsters and spun them around butt first to hand them over. What they couldn’t see or possibly scan was the shielded holdout blaster in the small of his back or the vibroknife hidden under a shielded scabbard attached to his right calf and under his boot.

Like all of the other casinos, the modus operandi was the same. Lots of alien ass everywhere, flaunting it to keep the customers distracted. Attractive waiters and waitresses who served drinks by the ton; keeping those gambling and playing. And lots of eyes everywhere. Not just the customers who were watching the games and their credits, but those hired to watch those gaming. And everyone was in on it. Waitresses watched patrons to measure when to bring more drinks and keep people spending. Dealers and gamemasters watched the same customers for tells or cheating, pit bosses watched the gamemasters and the guards; and the holo-drones watched everything else. All of it controlled by a central command center, located somewhere close to the center of the Casino and above so no one was the wiser. The Hutts sometimes located their command areas closer to their thrones; but trouble in the past made it necessary to change that strategy several hundred years before. Waylon smirked once the guards moved away to allow him to pass, confident they had him disarmed. How the Hutts ever conquered more than half of the known galaxy at one time was beyond him.

Being in the Casino wasn’t his idea of a good time. But it did pass the time. And he was good. Waylon didn’t cheat, he never had to. And he was no Jedi or Zeltron, he couldn’t read the gamemasters or the others playing with him. What he did do and had always been able to do was read people. And it extended to all races and creeds. Waylon had been around enough to know when someone was bluffing or the gamemaster was about to deal a card he knew was not in the house’s best interest. It was why he preferred playing with actual beings and not machines. Machines were harder to read, though he was finding his luck carry over into the machine world as well due to his acuity in mathematics. He still won, just not quite as often.

Taking a seat, he flourished the coat out behind him to drape over the stool before sitting down. Looking up at the dealer and giving a serious head nod. An Aquelish, Waylon smiled inside. It could be interesting. Aquelish were the go-to dealers for a game called Twenty-one. They had few ‘tells’ due to a predominant overbite and large teeth which occupied the majority of their faces. No one paid attention to eyes or a complete facial expression if you were always looking at those massive teeth. Waylon discovered later it was because the tells the race had were located in the eyes and forehead. You watch the creases; you knew what was coming.

With twenty-one, both parties were playing against one another trying to reach the appropriate number, but not exceeding it. The dealer playing for the house. Played with a deck of sabbacc, it was even more interesting. One card could end it all and often did. Sabbacc was one of the few decks that had a straight single twenty-one card in it. A Perfect set. It was a dangerous game and big credits could be lost instantly, if one were so inclined. Action cards were also rated a twenty-one. So, the game always favored the house. Waylon took out his credits and stacked them in front. The dealer taking them to exchange for Casino chits. Once Waylon had the chits, he shuffled them vertically in his hand watching the table a moment. The dealer making a motion for him to join, Waylon waved his hand sideways to pass on the hand; just to get a feel for the table.

Settling in, he gave the area around himself a quick once over before looking down at the stack of chits in his palm, shuffling them again vertically before giving the dealer a head nod. Only one other being at the table beside himself and the guy looked like he been through a war, it obviously wasn’t his night.

--

With so many beautiful and exotic people coming and going out of the casinos, it was hard for anyone to get noticed or stand out. As soon as Aurore walked in, the room seemed to suck in a collective breath. Heads started turning, people were stopping mid conversation and looking. Wearing a multi-sectional synth-silk dress which shimmered with filaments of fiber-optics; even the guards didn’t bother to scan her. Something that looked that beautiful couldn’t be a threat. They would hear about that later. But the smiles and the grins, even getting the girl to look their way was well worth the ass chewing that would come later from the overseers.

Walking down the steps, Aurore took the place in and started toward the main gambling floor. Toward the back, dancers circled and gyrated. More distraction for those already on the floor. She jiggled the chits from her last visit in her hand, no need to cash in any credits. A male waiter approached. A huge grin on his face as he bowed lowly, wanting to get Aurore a drink. She politely refused. Not even gambling yet, no one was supposed to start feeding her drinks. It was an attempt to get close to her. She moved away from the waiter progressing through the holo-slots until she saw Waylon at one of the twenty-one tables, a slight smile creasing her face. Deciding to do a slight fly-by.

--

It was a night for head-turners. The holo-drones were on overdrive once Aurore walked in. Having already scanned Waylon and receiving the information on him. No wants, no warrants on any Hutt world. The man possessed no galactic Death-marks. Had he come up positive, the Cartel would have offered him a complimentary room as a guise to get him off the floor. Then quickly nabbed him for any bounties he may have had. Saving themselves some credits. The Hutts still ran the Bounty Brokers Association so the drones were always on the lookout.

Once Aurore walked in, the second noticeable woman to turn some heads that night, the Hutts began to scan more thoroughly. Aurore: her home planet was listed as Nar Shareef. They made the drones move off her and continue scanning the crowd as they were before. Glancing back over the first woman who came in BEFORE Aurore; a dark-skinned human female that came in just after Waylon. They noticed she was keeping busy, but saw her eyes watching him and his table. Waylon was either going to get lucky with her or get nabbed for something. The other female was listed as a member of the Bounty Brokers Association, in good standing.

The drones also noticed Aurore look her way approximately three times. It sent a notification to the Hutts, raising the threat level slightly. They didn't want trouble on the main floor. It was bad for business.

--

Off to the side, an altercation erupted which made Waylon reach for a blaster on his hip; that wasn’t there. Just reflex. Cartel guards grabbed a man off the slots. A large Klatoonian who apparently had either angered the Hutts in some way or was wanted for something. They drug him away before things settled down again. Waylon turning back to the table to wave a hand toward the dealer, passing on upping his bet.

Slapping a card down, the dealer was at '19'. Waylon at '18'. The house won the previous two hands, so Waylon knew he was due. Changing his mind after a smile and before the hand was locked in, Waylon asked for another card. He got a three of sabers. Perfect '21'. The dealer nodded and passed Waylon the winnings before destroying all of the cards on the table and starting again. Stacking his chits, Waylon sat back and took a sip of the complimentary drink. He could play loose, it wasn’t his credits anyway. They were Marstel’s. The big man wanted him in a holding pattern, he was going to make sure the pattern was not only full, but expensive.

Before he saw her, Waylon smelled her. That sweet smell of Alderaanian Lilacs and Honey; with an added touch of some exotic machine oil. Denoting her everyday work on something mechanical. Sitting up he looked around. Pretending not to notice as she passed, looking straight at him. Aurore smiled as she breezed by; making Waylon grimace. How many times had not only he told her, but Marstel as well? They were never supposed to be seen gathering. Not that the two of them were together. Obviously not, given the not so subtle entourage that was following her. Strangers who kept their distance, but were on guard and quick to either feed her a drink or make idle conversation. Cashing in, Waylon stuffed the credits in his belt and hopped off the stool; making his approach.

Catching up to Aurore at the slots, he was careful not to make any sudden moves. Nothing to give the Hutts an excuse to throw him out. The dress shimmered between green and blue, light of the dress catching the light of the casino interior. And her smell, it was almost as intoxicating as the drink. Light skinned for a Zeltron; Waylon knew she was exuding some serious pheromones once he got close; it wasn’t just the fragrances she had on. Leaning up on the top of the holo-slot Aurore was standing at she smiled, but didn’t look at him. His presence overwhelming as the shadow cast itself down over the top of her machine. Waylon pulled his hat down to cover his eyes and some of his mouth in shadow as he murmured out of the side.

“What…are you doing here? This place isn’t for you….”

Aurore frowned, pulling the handle on the machine hard once she placed the appropriate number of chits in the slot. “What are you…my father? I live here you know." The machine beeped a sad chime as she inserted more chits and pulled again. "Besides, this is my home. You act like I don't know what goes on in these places.” She glanced and gave a wicked grin as the machine chimed sadly again. Aurore placing more chits in the slot to pull again. "You can't be innocent and live here." Lots of comeback for such a simple question.

“Following me.” Waylon uttered again, “…that’s beneath you. If you wanted to come, you could have just said so.”

Aurore scoffed a laugh, finally looking over at him. Waylon was leaning to the side finally, looking out. Appearing to not really be interested in talking to her. A lazy arm thrown up over the top of the machine. “HA….me?!?! Following you?!?! No, you got it wrong. I just happened to come in here and it happens to be the place you chose to gamble in.”

Shaking his head, Waylon didn’t buy it. “Oh…and the fact that I have room here didn’t factor into the equation that you just happened to pick this casino…out of the nearly two-hundred in this city?” Waylon pushed off the machine, reaching in his belt to take out the winnings and place them on the machine for Aurore. “Here…play a few on me.” Walking away, Aurore did a quick turn and watched him. Making his way the direction of the holo-signs leading to another part of the casino. The underground. No gambling, but plenty of things to play with. She went back to pulling the handle. An annoyed expression on her face, but not before she looked a different direction. The mark she was on was also headed that direction. She was no professional spy, but she did ok. At least till Waylon saw her and she lost her mark. Aurore scoffed, something she would have to take up with Marstel when the time came, perhaps he could give her some tips. For such a big man, Marstel seemed to blend and she had no idea how he managed to do it.

--

It was a massive underground strip club, dark and dank. The smell changed from the processed fresher air of the upstairs to a hot spicy scent of alcohol and sex. He made his way through the crowd, finding a pleasure loveseat empty; sitting down and taking out the appropriate amount of chits to remain in the seat. They never made a big deal about someone taking a seat and not paying immediately. But no one got to stay in the seat of they didn’t pay the right amount. Decorated around the large oval shaped room. Dozens of other seats like his had patrons and dancers mingling with one another. Some bodies intertwined in positions that one could not distinguish where the dancer began and the patrons ended.

“Been here before?” A light blue skinned Twi’lek smiled and sat down a drink. The same type he had upstairs. Holo-drones transmitting the information about Waylon down to the systems in the underground for the Twi’lek to pick up as she approached his table. Actually HER table. Waylon was just renting it. Looking up at her, he saw she had no collar. Not a slave and not indentured. He despised that about the Hutts. Enslaving others to work off debt or just because they could. Waylon nodded slowly; the Twi’lek smiling again. “I’m Aoleon…Welcome to the Underground of Casino number Eighty-three."

--

Not wanting to be seen by him again, Aurore entered the underground and immediately took a sharp right. Following the rounded wall until she was on the far side of the room. A massive dance floor separated the loveseats from the bar side. Reaching up, Aurore pressed a button on the shoulder of her dress. The sleeves retracting and the hemline of the long flowing dress retracting to give it more of a shimmering mini-skirt appearance. Pushing off the wall, she entered the dance floor, with a slow move and sway, increasing her movement as the dancers on the floor got thicker. Being in full motion by the time she reached the center; well-hidden by the thralls of moving gyrating bodies and dripping sweat.

Her eyes weren’t on him, Aurore was watching the door leading back up to the main casino.

--

The Twi’lek jingled as she sat down. Long chains braided together wrapped themselves around the girl’s arms, legs; circling up her waist and torso. Aoleon had no collar, at least no slave collar. But what she did have was a continued braid of gold jewel encrusted material which continued up around her neck making its way around her Lekku and glimmering under the flashing lights which came off the dance floor. Her eyes got wide once she hit the seat, getting closer to him. Rubbing a hand over his chest, she leaned in.

“Business or pleasure…” Waylon wasn’t looking at her, eyes hidden under the brim of the hat; he was scanning the area before relaxing. Once he sagged slightly, realizing he was in a safe corner, he murmured.

“Business….”

“Oh…the convention…” There was always some convention going on. Aoleon’s hand slipped down to his crotch, she squeezed. Before Waylon could protest, the hand was back up rubbing across his chest. She was checking him, that’s what they were trained to do. Hands all over under the guise of being ‘friendly’; really looking for anything hidden. What went on in the underground were not things the Hutts wanted advertised. Weapons in the casino were one thing. The guards at the doors took care of that. But holo-cams, transmitters, fobs…all of that was forbidden.

“No…” Waylon uttered again.

Aoleon narrowed her eyes, her lips getting close to his ear. “Well…allow me to familiarize you with what we offer.” Placing one leg over his, she removed her hand from his chest stretching around under him, pointing with the other. “Main dance floor, bar arc on the far side. ‘Games’…in the corner…” Aoleon smiled wickedly as she said the last. Games, sex games. You didn’t have to pay the full price for the loveseat and get your own personal servant or servants, if you paid more. You could play the general ‘games’ and get the same amount of attention for the duration of the ‘game’ and your credits. He glanced over and saw several patrons spanking a dancer who was bound to a pole as another, a few steps away was on her knees; head bobbing up and down on some patron he could not see. “BUT….” Aoleon’s eyes got wide. “If that’s not your thing, we could always go down to the VIP.” She looked off to her side, yet another set of stairs leading even further underground. “You can’t go down there without a guide…let me know if you’re interested.” She stood and reached behind her shoulder blades unclasping the latch which held up the slight chain-linked top she wore. Discarding it on the seat next to him after exposing a set of perfectly aligned light blue breasts; she cupped one and stretched out a tongue to lick the tip before smiling. Her eyebrow going up seductively. “Let me get us started….”

--

Aurore was dancing her way toward the other set of stairs. There was no reason to watch the door anymore whomever it was had obviously passed through on Waylon's side and went downstairs. Glancing over toward Waylon she couldn’t see him with the Twi’lek dancing slowly in front, getting closer to him. Frowning and pursing her lips, Aurore started moving slower as she reached the edge of the circular room; eventually coming to a full stop once she hit the end of the bar arc. Slapping the counter, she nodded toward the droid tender. “Tat sunrise…heavy on the syrup….” Her head snapping back to watch Waylon, 'What?' She heard the little voice, her own speaking in her head as she questioned herself. 'Jealous?!?! The man is weak, terrible...look at this place. You don't need someone like that.' "Yea." She said outloud, taking the drink in hand.

"Excuse me?" The tender said as he heard Aurore speak. She smiled and waved him away.

--

“Ever seen the hot boxes…” Aoleon spoke softly as she leaned in. Waylon had his arms up across the top of his love seat extended down both sides. With the Twi’lek between his legs he could see nothing past her and that was the point. He shook his head 'no' as she continued to move. “…we used to have droids in there…fleshy ones. I even did some time in the boxes. It’s for the shy ones or the ones who want to remain anonymous. You seem like a shy one to me…but for the right price...” Aoleon placed a finger tip to her mouth, giving it a quick flick of the tongue.

“Is that so....” Waylon finally said, looking up from under his hat. As far as weaknesses went, women were definitively at the top of Waylon's list. The Twi’lek almost reached down to take the hat and use it in her little show. But having met the backside of a hand for doing that on previous occasions she thought better of it. Waylon didn’t look like the kind of traveler who was to be messed with.

Dropping a combination of casino chits and credits, Waylon got up from his seat after reserving the table. Aoleon waited until he was out of her view before she scrambled to pick all of them up taking a seat on the loveseat once Waylon walked away. Watching him, Aurore followed the gunslinger with her eyes until he disappeared down the stairs to the VIP area. After being stopped briefly, the guards looking over at Aoleon. The Twi’lek giving them the head nod that Waylon was paid in full; having reserved her and the table while he went down to the VIP alone. Though he hadn’t been to that particular casino before, he was well versed on what went on in various VIP areas. Pushing off the bar, Aurore downed the drink in one massive gulp, quickly moving to follow Waylon downstairs.

--

He was still browsing when Aurore stepped off the last stair and into the main room of the VIP area. Boxes lined the sides of the wall with openings cut into them leading into the wall beyond. Bordered by curtains only a holo-picture which hovered at the top gave a picture of who it was inside the box. And there were many 'flavors' to choose from. Male or female. Various races and creeds. Thorough the portholes, various body parts protruded out, though until the cashier at the front was paid, you couldn't see them. An ass here, a mouth there.

Aurore paid the attendant at the foot of the stairs and moved around the backside of the nearest wall, watching Waylon carefully as he moved through the center, looking around. Once he stopped, Aurore did to. His eye catching something in the low light. 'Human' Aurore thought to herself, '...figures...'

--

Looking up, the human female gave an annoyed expression toward the door. It slid open with a touch of her hand. Still laying down on her stomach; the lower half of her body hidden as it protruded out into the main room through the porthole in the box, she stared at whoever it was that knocked on the other side. It had to be administration. No one would dare knock on the door, at least not a patron. Once the door opened from the inside, Aurore smiled at the female as she flourished a code cylinder; a number flashing on the display screen. “I’m relieving you…” Aurore said. The two exchanged looks again, the human looking at the number; licking her lips. “…no questions and the cylinder is yours….”

--

Spoiler: NSFW - 'The Hot Box'

The curtain slowly rose to the sides, hiding what was about to go on from the rest of the VIP area. Lights clicked on above, pale and slightly tinted. Never a pure light, not in those places. It was all a show, from the lighting to the smells. Combined with beings predilection to party and drink. It hid facts that were obvious. Imperfections. It provided the fantasy people were paying for. Waylon looked down. The legs and ass of the one hidden on the other side of the wall stuck out, tiptoes on the floor. Placing a hand on the skin, he felt the body jerk slightly. Humanoid. He had to make sure. This was one of his few vices. Women. One of the things he used to forget about the past, indulging in excess in women of any type. And it had been a while since he indulged in something so anonymous.

--

Feeling the hand, Aurore jumped. She bit her bottom lip so she wouldn’t squeal. How long had it been since she had been with a real person? Shaking her head, she couldn’t remember. It was exciting, but slightly scary at the same time. He couldn’t see it was her, she didn’t have to look at his face and know that it was a real person. In a way, it was therapy for them both. With the added bonus that she was able to know where he was and what he was doing. After watching him all night in an attempt to keep him safe. She didn’t lie when she said she wasn’t there for him. But her reasoning for coming to the casino had to do with him, she just couldn’t say why. Not on Nar Shareef, a Hutt controlled planet. Aurore had to follow not only Waylon, but Waylon’s trail.

The hand moved slowly up and around her back side. She heard the unfastening of pants and Waylon’s chaps that he wore over them. The gun belt dropping to the floor on the other side of the wall. Biting her lip harder, she tasted the first vestiges of blood and released her jaw before she bit through. Just as she did, fingers began probing and opening her up. Aurore’s eyes got wide. He was gentle, gentler than she would have assumed being Waylon and what she knew about him and women. Not to mention the anonymous part of it all. Why be gentle when you didn’t have to?

‘Oh shit’ Aurore thought. Laying on her stomach, she realized that the lower half of her body from her navel on down could be seen and that meant, the tattoo. Her lower back tattoo. Had he ever seen it? Noticed it in something low cut she wore or a half-shirt on the days she was bending down? Waylon always watched her carefully. Noticing everything. It was part of who he was, she didn’t take offense. Her mind started racing with trouble. Not only the tattoo, but her skin. Even in the low light, would he see that she was not quite as pale as the human she replaced? What would he do if he realized it was her? How would she explain? The fingers stopped, her mind still racing with worry. Aurore looked back slightly. Immediately jerking her head back forward as her eyes got wide. ‘OH SHIT’ she thought again, a slight high-pitched squeal she cut off by cutting the air off and holding her breath. Slowly, Waylon was sliding in. And as he did her mouth got wider.

--

Tight. But not like a droid that sized up the one who was using it and adjusted accordingly to provide the adequate amount of back pressure for pleasure. This one was alive, a real humanoid. Waylon felt the inside walls throb against him. The body jerking slightly as he continued to slide in. Once he was all the way to the hilt, he laid hands on the back side again; stroking, rubbing slowly. Such smooth soft skin and a hint of something that smelled familiar.

--

Grabbing the handles which extended on both sides of the highly polished table, Aurore pushed back slightly and couldn’t help but give out a moan. The warm feeling of release already coursing out of her. Once Waylon started to kriff, Aurore pushed back holding the handles; pushing back in rhythm with his motions. All of that gentleness went away. Waylon was full bore. Moaning, grinding; Aurore wasn’t surprised that he went straight to it. He was paying for it after all and she was supposed to be anonymous. But the power of it, the excitement of Waylon not knowing it was her. She felt and hand slap down over the small of her back, fingertips trying to get hold right over the tattoo which was burned into her skin. “Ya-yes, yes, Yesyes….” She repeated in time with the thrusts in between laughs and squeals, the words getting cut off and stuttering from the force outside the box. Aurore couldn't help but smile, the excitement of it all overtaking the pure pleasure.

Waylon groaned. Already feeling the woman in the box warmth course over him again. His own shot out of him and inside her. It got hot in there, Waylon pulling all the way out with another groan. The box was better than he imagined it would be. For a moment, standing there with his shaft hanging out he almost talked to her. The ass wiggling and gyrating as she finished cumming herself. But he thought better of it. Looking up at the curtains, he pulled up his pants and put the belt back on. Pressing the button to open the shroud back up and leave. Taking one last look at the pink looking ass and legs that still poked through the porthole.

--

By the time Aurore made it back upstairs and looked around, finally looking over toward the table Waylon rented; he was long gone. The Twi’lek too. She moved fast over to the cashier and leaned in.

“The guy at table twenty-two…did he leave, with the girl who was working it?”

“Yea.” The cashier spoke in a jovial voice. “They both were all over one another. Charged it to his room here. Why?” The Cashier narrowed her eyes. “You lookin’ ta join them?” Looking Aurore up and down, the veneer of sweat and craziness of the eyes and hair made Aurore look like a working girl. Aurore couldn’t see herself, but the experience in the ‘box’ made her look a bit disheveled.

“No…it’s cool.” She said sadly. Her eyes immediately going back to the door leading to the casino, then the dance floor.

The other, was gone too. The reason she came to the casino in the first place. Aurore shook her head, the things she did for friends. No one else would do it.