#rc-1140

I wanted to make a rough drawing for May the 4th, but I just can't seem to draw armor in a simple way. So of course, I'm late this year again.

I started with a rough style for Sev and ended up with a cleaner one for Boss. In the end, I had to rework the characters several times so they would all look consistent.

I used Magic Poser Web to make the reference for the whole drawing. I initially planned a more classic back view of the characters, but while experimenting with the tool, I ended up liking the top view better.

For Mird, I used this nice walking dog 3D model to help with the anatomy (along with some Shar Pei references). I reused my previous design I made for it, but this time I fixed the legs so it has four back legs instead of four front ones. I tried several poses for the front leg and ended up choosing the one that felt the most dynamic. I'm pretty proud of the result.

Fixer’s alarm sounded. He rolled over and smacked at the bedside table, trying to find his comm. He growled when he grabbed it and saw what time it was. 

“4am, I don’t have anything to do today and I forgot to turn off my alarm, fan-fucking-tastic,” he grumbled and tossed it across the room. 

He pulled the blankets up tight and rolled over. He was determined to go back to sleep, but wasn’t working. He didn’t know how long he’d tossed and turned since he’d thrown his comm. 

With a huff, he tossed back the covers and got up to retrieve his comm. 0415am. He rolled his eyes. He pulled on his shorts and was about to head towards the kitchens. If he was lucky, no one else was up yet. Kyrimorut was often quiet in the early morning on weekends. 

He turned and smacked his pinky toe against the leg of his bed frame. 

“Fierfek! Fucking osik’la bed!” He cursed through gritted teeth. 

Fixer had clearly endured worse major and minor injuries than this, but he could swear that stubbing his pinky toe was infinitely more painful. 

Once the pain subsided, he slid on his shoes and left. Hopefully fresh caf would make this morning better. 

He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the kitchen was indeed empty. Fixer liked quiet mornings where he could sip his caf in peace and come alive for the day. That had never been the case when he was in the army. Fixer was always ready at a moment's notice. But now? Life was a little slower and he’d adapted well. 

The caf maker bubbled, gurgled, and steamed as it brewed. Fixer took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of fine caf. He’d become a caf snob the second he tasted something better than what the army served. 

His favorite mug was ready and waiting in the cabinet for him. He grabbed it and sat it on the counter, filling it with the hot caf. Fixer picked it up and closed his eyes, taking the first small sip. 

“Oh, good morning. Fixer, right?” A woman’s voice asked. 

Fixer startled and his favorite mug went crashing to the floor. It shattered on the tile sending shards and hot caf everywhere. 

“Fierfek!” He jumped back, narrowly avoiding most of the splash of hot liquid. 

“Oh maker! I-I’m so sorry. Are you burned?” She rushed to him. 

He wasn’t wearing a shirt and some had indeed spilt on his chest. A little had splashed his ankles, but it wasn’t serious. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said. 

She dampened a cloth and moved to wipe his chest. He caught her wrist before she could touch him. 

“I’ve got it, thanks…,” he didn’t know her name. He took the cloth and wiped up. 

“Sianar, my name is Sianar,” her cheeks turned pink as she looked up at him. 

She’d come to Kyrimorut a couple days earlier with Ny. She’d stolen information from the Empire and was on the run. Fixer was shocked she’d remembered his name. They’d only met briefly when she came and she gave him the datasticks she’d acquired. 

“That was my favorite mug,” he muttered as he moved to clean the mess. 

“I’m so sorry, I was trying not  to scare you, but obviously that didn’t work. I’ll help you.” 

Fixed hadn’t heard her walk in. He was going to have to pay more attention. 

“Why are you up so early?” He asked. 

“I could ask the same of you,” she snorted. “I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been awake for hours.”

“I forgot to turn off my alarm,” he shrugged. 

The mess was easily swept and mopped up. Sianar poured two mugs of caf while Fixer put away the mop and broom. 

He sat across the table from her. She stared into her caf like she could see something no one else could. 

“I’ll buy you a new mug,” she said softly. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll find another. There’s a potter in Enceri that makes them,” he leaned back in his chair. 

Sianar nodded. 

Despite the dark circles under her eyes, she was pretty. Fixer hadn’t paid attention when she’d arrived, but he was now. 

“Vor’e for the datasticks, they’ll be very helpful.” 

“You’re welcome,” she stirred her caf even though it was just black. 

What Fixer didn’t know was that she found him attractive, and trying to carry on a conversation with a shirtless commando was intimidating. 

“You ok?” He asked hesitantly. 

She pulled her sweater tighter around her. 

“Yeah, I guess. I’m just tired. There’s so many people here and I know none of them.”

“You know me,” he smiled. 

She looked up. “I suppose that’s true.” 

“Why don’t you go to the living area and I’ll stoke the fire. You look like you’re freezing,” Fixer stood and drained his caf. 

“I am. I’m not used to cold weather.”

“Where are you from?” 

“Tattoine. It’s very hot there.” 

“It is. This is mild weather for Mandalore,” he laughed lightly. “You can make yourself at home here, just so you know.” 

He filled his mug and escorted her to the living area. It probably was chilly, but it didn’t bother him. He put a couple of logs on the fire, instantly reviving it. 

“Would you like a blanket?” He asked. 

“Please!” 

Fixed reached to grab one from the community blanket basket, only to find that Mird had nested under it. The strill looked up at him and bared its teeth. Fixer shook his head and laid the blanket down. 

“Sorry about the blanket, but unless you want to smell like strill, you don’t want it,” he rolled his eyes. 

“What?” She crinkled her nose. 

“Vau’s pet strill, Mird, has decided to nest in the blankets. Strills are smelly,” he explained. 

“Oh! That’s alright, my sweater will be fine, especially with the fire,” she smiled. 

Fixer sat down in a chair, but disaster struck again. There was a loud creaking sound and Fixer landed hard on the tile floor. He laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. Maybe he should have stayed in bed. 

“Are you ok?!?” She was suddenly standing over him. 

He huffed. 

“Just hurt my pride,” he managed to get up. “Now what made this chair fall?” He mused as he walked around the front of it. 

There were large gnawing marks on the front leg. There was only one thing in the house that would leave gnawing marks. 

“Mird!” Fixer hissed. 

The strill popped its head out of the blankets and, deciding Fixer looked like a threat, ran off, likely to the safety of its master. 

Sianar giggle uncontrollably. It really wasn’t that funny, but exhaustion multiplied it. 

“That’s a strill, if you were wondering,” Fixer grumbled and sat down on the couch. 

She sat on the other side, still laughing too much to drink her caf. 

Fixer held his face in his hands, wondering what disaster would befall him next. He’d never believed in luck, but he was certain this must be bad luck. 

A hand on his shoulder made him sit up. She was looking at him with a soft smile, warm eyes, and tear stained cheeks from laughing. 

“Hey, it’s ok. Your day will get better,” she sat down next to him, careful not to touch more than his shoulder. 

“I hope so. It’s starting out strong in the wrong direction.”

“It hasn’t been all bad, has it?” She gave him her best tooka eyes. 

“No, it hasn’t. At least it’s been you here, my brothers would make fun of me forever,” he scoffed. 

“Fixer?” 

“Yes?”

“I-I hope it’s not too forward, but do you have a partner?” 

Fixer felt his cheeks burn and turned his attention to the fire. 

“It’s not. No, I don’t,” he said. 

Sianar shivered and pulled her sweater tighter again. She started to go back to her corner of the couch to get her caf, but suddenly, Fixer’s arm was wrapped around her. 

Fixer could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He didn’t know her, what was he doing? He wanted what his vode had with their partners. If he wasn’t bold, it would never happen. He could feel her tense at first, then relax. 

She laid her head on his shoulder. She wasn’t usually so forward, but this felt right. Fixed shivered. 

“Are you cold, too?” She asked. 

Fixer wasn’t cold at all. Her hair brushing over his collarbone had sent a different kind of shiver through him. 

“I’m fine now,” he said. “Would you like to go to dinner tonight? Enceri isn’t far and I just thought you'd like to get out for a bit.” 

“That sounds nice,” she murmured. “I-I’ll buy you a new mug.” 

Fixer felt excited and nervous. This wasn’t his area of expertise, but he’d manage. He idly rubbed her arm as they sat quietly. 

“What do you like to eat?” He asked after a time. 

The cockpit was quiet and peaceful when you were the only one awake. Scorch never liked the silence. He had told Sev that when he was still and alone, his thoughts grew too loud, but Sev didn’t mind being the one up late to make sure the ship stayed on course without incident. Sure, he was tired and his muscles ached from being in the heat of battle for days without end, but Boss would be up to relieve him soon. For now, he got to cherish his time alone and enjoy the view that being in hyperspace gave him.

The door behind him hissed open.

“Trouble sleeping?” Sev asked. Boss wasn’t supposed to be up for another hour.

“How can anyone sleep with Fixer snoring louder than the engines?”

Sev turned to look, not at Boss, but at Scorch. His brother crossed his arms and leaned against the control panel. Fixer’s snores were as annoying to Scorch as Boss’s gravely cough had been to Sev the last couple of missions. At least gargling bacta could keep their Sergeant’s coughs at bay for some time. Fixer’s sinuses didn’t care if he drank the entire container, his snores weren’t going away anytime soon.

“Plan H240.” Scorch shot a mischievous smile at his brother. “I’m doing it.”

“He’s going to kill you.” Sev shook his head and fought down the smile trying to creep onto his face. Plan H240 had always just been a joke, but he couldn’t say that he hadn’t thought about seriously doing it himself.

“You can keep my helmet to remember me by,” he snorted and headed for the door. “What do you think would be big enough to use?”

Sev cast one last look out the viewport to make sure everything still looked fine before following Scorch. This was something he didn’t want to miss. He could already hear the sound that elicited Scorch’s loathing before they had even made it to the bunks. The almost perfect repetition of it echoed softly around them. He almost felt bad for his older brother. It wasn’t like Fixer was doing it on purpose, and sleep was such a rare and precious thing to all of them, but his curiosity to how it would all play out kept him from stopping what was about to happen.

Scorch rummaged around as quietly as he could until he pulled out a medium sized jug that he waved in the air triumphantly then headed for the ‘fresher. Light spilled across the floor as the door opened. Boss shifted in his sleep, his breathing hitching for just a moment before resuming it’s steady, deep pace. Sev shot a quick look at the two sleeping Commandos as the sound of water flowing from the tap whispered its way toward him. Waking any Commando suddenly was dangerous. Waking them this way was unfathomable…. And they called him psycho. They all needed to take a harder look at Scorch.

Water sloshed over the edge of the jug slightly as Scorch moved silently across the room. Sev felt like he was watching a large beast stalk its prey through thick underbrush. He hesitated as he loomed over Fixer’s sleeping form. His eyebrows knitted together. His teeth dug into his bottom lip. For a moment, Sev thought that Scorch had changed his mind.

Until the water made contact with Fixer’s face.

The Commando jolted upward, his head hitting the top of the bunk. Scorch jumped back instantly. Sev inhaled sharply through his teeth.

“Kriff!” Fixer shouted, grabbing his forehead.

“What’s going on?” Boss was awake.

Fixer stood up, water dripping from his body and falling to the durasteel floor like rain. Sev knew that Fixer was just as lethal as the rest of them. He had seen his brother kill on several occasions, and he also knew that Fixer preferred hands-on combat with a melee weapon better than anything else, and right now, Sev found himself grateful that Fixer was only in his blacks.

“What the kark is wrong with you?” he shouted when spotted the empty jug in his brother’s hands. Fixer slammed his palms roughly against Scorch’s chest. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

Boss stepped between the two and nodded toward the ‘fresher. “Go dry off.”

His tone left little room for argument, but Fixer didn’t move instantly. He only stood there glaring into his younger brother’s eyes as if trying to rip out his soul through his eye sockets. Boss stood unwaveringly between them until Fixer turned away and disappeared through the door of the ‘fresher before turning to look at the smug grin on Scorch’s face.

“What the hell possessed you to do that?” Boss asked, folding his arms across his chest. His face was set in the ‘no-nonsense, serious boss’ look that he used mostly when dealing with Jedi.

Scorch shrugged. “C’mon, Boss. Don’t act like you’re not tired of his snoring too.”

Boss narrowed his eyes. “You won’t have to worry about his snoring because after you clean up the water, you get to keep watch in the cockpit for the foreseeable future.”

“Aurek, besh, cresh, dorn, forn, grek, herf, isk, jeneth - wait no, fuck - jenth…” Where was a stupid little alphabet song when you needed it, Lennox thought as she recited everything yet again. She had to get through it without mistake before Besh would start on anything else every lesson. It was slower going than she wanted, even when she had been practicing on her own the past several days. She wanted to do better. She wanted to actually speak to Boss and Scorch and Fixer and Sev, and show Besh how much she improved on the day to day.

It was easier to remember the alphabet and write than it was to talk though, which annoyed her. They used completely different mouth sounds, so she was constantly doing a run around in her head of spelling, translating, and then trying to say the words as they come. At least they had almost identical sentence structure and grammar rules; she didn’t know what she would do if she had to learn those too. Languages were never her strong suit, as her old Spanish teacher could attest. But that teacher sucked; Besh had the patience of a saint and she appreciated him for it.

‘How are you learning English faster than I am Basic? It’s not fair in the slightest,’ she wrote.

Besh gave her a winning smile, and spoke in English just to rub it in. “I’m the best. Simple.”

“You mean… you’re…” she snorted lightly, “you’re the… you’re the Besht!”

She dissolved into mostly silent laughter, hiding her face in her arm to muffle the sound. When she looked up Besh seemed amused but only by virtue of her reaction. She turned to Boss sitting vigilant in the corner, who only glanced up from his data pad at the noise despite, Lennox knew, having been listening to them the whole time.

“Oh come on, because “best” sounds like Besh?” She looked back and forth between them, and ignored the very deliberate look they shared.

She rolled her eyes and wrote, ‘Whatever, that was brilliant in English. It’s no fun when I have to explain it - I’ll teach you some more puns later.’

‘If we get the chance. We’ll have to see what the General says when we land.’ He had a look in his eyes but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

‘You guys better make me sound good in your report.’ She wrote jokingly, but was suddenly very aware that she could be sent fuck knows where if this general of theirs didn’t want her around anymore. It made her heart pound.

‘Well, you’re not so bad I suppose.’

She smiled weakly. ‘A shining recommendation.’

‘Let’s go over what you know how to say. Start with greetings.’

“My name is Lennox Cahill, nice to meet you. What’s your name?” She recited dutifully. Besh had been teaching her basic words and phrases as she learned the alphabet, but she still had to bridge the gap between reading, writing, and speaking.

“A little stiff but that was good.”

Well, she recognized the word “good,” but it sounded more like “so-so”. Even simple conversation seemed a way off from happening, much to her displeasure. Realistically she knew it wasn’t possible for her to learn a language in a week, but that didn’t stop her from wishing she could. There just wasn’t any time; they landed in a few hours and then… she didn’t know.

“I think… I’ll miss you,” Lennox sounded out each syllable carefully. She didn’t know what made her say it, and she certainly had time to back out of it, but it felt like she had to. Delta, as wary of her as they were, never did her any harm, and Besh, dare she say, had fun during their meetings. It could have been a lot worse for her. “And Delta.”

Boss was looking at her like she’d just sprouted a second head, but she only shrugged her shoulders awkwardly. He probably already thought she was weird, so there was no harm in it. Besides, she’d have said it eventually anyway.

‘Are you nervous?’ Besh asked.

“Yeah.” She admitted, cursing how small she sounded. She was more confident than this! But the language barrier and her lack of a place in this new galaxy made her wary of change more than she ever had been before.

He nodded, like he expected that to be her answer. ‘The Jedi are our generals, and keepers of the peace in the galaxy. They won’t give any orders that will hurt you.’ He always wrote his longer sentences so she would understand.

Oh, how she wanted to believe him. He regaled her with information about these Jedi, like the one she had seen in hologram her first day, who would lead them to victory against the separatists. He sounded like a recruitment commercial. But she knew it was never that simple. The needs of the many and all that. She knew it; knew what her dad and brother had told her. She would fall to the wayside if something else was more important.

“The general’s name is Camas?” Besh had already told her, but she asked just in case she was saying it wrong. And to distract herself.

“Correct.”

Their lesson continued for another hour, and she left with the instruction to try and sleep, since it would be morning when they landed planet-side. She gained some comfort when Besh said he’d be at the meeting too. Of course Boss, Scorch, Fixer, and Sev would be there; her constant watchers that they were.

She wondered idly, as she and Boss walked back to their room, if they thought she didn’t notice they never left her alone. The only give was when she used the refresher - their strange word for a bathroom. Not that she wasn’t glad for it. She really didn’t want them to know her that well.

She found solace under the spray of water for a few minutes, before she dressed in her own clothing, not what she had been borrowing.

It was better this time, easier to deal with as she donned each piece. She spent hours the third day scrubbing at the stains that remained with whatever soap she found. Her back and knees had cramped from leaning over the sink for so long, shifting and stretching the whole time though it did little to help her growing aches. But she hadn’t stop until everything was clean and her fingers were pruned and throbbing, rubbed raw as much as the cloth had been.

It didn’t feel like it had been that long since she flopped onto her bunk to sleep but she was surprisingly clear headed, if a bit miffed, when she woke up. Miffed because Sev had kicked her bunk and startled her awake - to which she mumbled tired curses back at him. She was never very pleasant right after waking up.

The halls were buzzing with movement as they made their way to the main hanger; ships were being lowered from overhead railings, men were shouting orders and pointing, and everyone got out of their way when they passed. They walked around an opening in the ground and Lennox saw hundreds of men lining up in formation in full armor when she glanced down.

A blaring alarm sounded and Lennox jumped. It wasn’t unlike the alarms from the droid factory, except it only went off once and when she looked, nobody else reacted to it, other than glancing up in acknowledgement. So, maybe they weren’t going to blow up this time? That didn’t stop her heart from racing though. She loosened her grip from the strap of her bag that she used to carry her notebooks and datapad, smoothing the fabric against her chest to calm her nerves. She tripped when the ship jolted but quickly got her feet back in working order.

Everything was a blur after that between being loaded into another ship, taking off, and landing again on a whole new planet. She didn’t have time to really take it in like she had Geonosis, but she supposed that was a good thing; fight or die wasn’t a fun way to familiarize herself with a place.

Delta ushered her across the tarmac of what she assumed was their new military base - sparsely populated since nobody else had landed yet. She had never been on one before so she wasn’t sure what to expect but this one was as clean-cut as industrial could get, for as much as she knew about architecture. Which wasn’t much now that she thought about it.

They walked inside the central building and down more twisting hallways she was sure to get lost in later. Before she knew it they stopped her in front of a nondescript door, and Boss pointed firmly to the ground. “Stay here.”

She swallowed hard but nodded, not moving a muscle when the door slid shut in her face. There was a note of finality in being left completely alone for the first time in days. She didn’t think they trusted her that much, but now there wasn’t a reason to be watched. They had already seen whatever it was they needed to. Even if she started running she wouldn’t make it far, tempting as it was just for something to do.

Footsteps distracted her minutes later and she turned to see Besh rounding the corner, identifiable by his namesake’s letter painted the helmet clipped to his belt. It was the only adornment on his armor “to leave room for his colors” he’d told her, whatever that meant. Delta already had colorful armor, but she wasn’t sure why Besh had to wait to paint his. Actually, Delta were the only ones she had seen with their armor painted since she’d been with them. She needed to remember to ask about it if she got the chance.

Besh paused for a second by her, glancing from her to the door and then back at her. He pat her on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay,” he said before going into the room.

“I wish I was that optimistic,” she mused, staring at the door. She could only guess what was going on beyond it.

She was leaning against the wall for what felt like ages, but in reality probably wasn’t that long, when the door slid open and Fixer waved her in. She followed him to another hologram table and took her place with him on her right and Sev on her left. Whether they planned it or not it was smart to put her between the SIC and the most likely to kill her. Not to mention having the table between her and the door. She was well and truly trapped now.

The general, however, was not where she thought he would be. Instead of being projected in place around the table like before, he was miniaturized in the middle of it, so she had to crane her neck even more if she wanted to look him in the eye.

Deep breath. “Good morning, General Camas.” Nailed it.

“Good morning, Miss Cahill,” he greeted her, but that was as much as she understood from everything he said. He spoke a fair bit more to her after that. A question, she guessed, based on his inflections.

She looked at Besh opposite her in trepidation. There was no way she could have an actual conversation with this person out loud.

He said something and Fixer messed with the console. A screen lit up in front of her, text sprawling across it as Camas spoke again.

“Good morning, miss Cahill. I trust you’ve been treated well during your stay on the Prosecutor?”

She could have kissed Fixer with all his technical know-how, but she settled with bumping her forearm with his and hoped her face conveyed her thanks. She stepped towards the console and typed ‘I have, yes.’

“And you’ve been learning Basic as well, I see. You must be a quick study seeing as you started with a language not even our protocol droid knew.”

He sounded suspicious. ‘Besh is a good teacher.’

“Indeed. Tell me, how long where you in the droid factory on Geonosis before Delta squad found you?”

Quick to the point at least. It was a typical play, she recognized. Separate the two parties, Delta and herself, and see if their stories match up. Delta had more than likely told the general not only their account of finding her but also the goings on of the days that had followed. He wanted to see if she was stupid enough to lie about anything. And she couldn’t even if she wanted to, because she had no idea what Delta had already said. So she would answer his questions exactly and nothing more. At least until she got a feel for what exactly he wanted from her and what he would do with her after this.

‘Only a few minutes.’

“And how did you come to be there on that particular day?”

‘I don’t remember.’

“Is there anything you do remember?”

‘I was taking a backpacking trip on my planet. I went off the trail one night for a few minutes but I don’t know what happened after. The next thing know, I’m waking up in that factory.’

A simplified version of what she had told Boss during their first interroga- *ahem* - conversation. Exactly the truth, but not like she was reading from a script. It would be stranger if her story didn’t change a word.

“Your planet. That would be Earth, correct?”

‘Yes.’ She saved herself some trouble with the next sentence. ‘I was told it doesn’t exist.’

“There’s no record of it, not even in the vast archives of the Jedi Temple. Nor is the galaxy you claim to be from.”

‘I heard that too.’

And she was tired of hearing it. Delta probably was too for as many times as they have, but they were utterly unflappable, almost completely unmoving when she glanced at those she could see. She wished she could see Camas better; he was hard to read as a hologram, and near impossible in miniature.

“It would be prudent if you meet with one of our healers as soon as possible. If you do come from a different galaxy, they might be able to find a physiological difference, even if you’re human all the same. It could bring us closer to finding proof of your claims and maybe a way home as well.”

She could hear the slow crackle of her spine as her shoulders pulled back to an almost painful degree. There it was. His caveat. They wanted to study her, and all he did was wrap it in the pretense of “helping” her. Well, there was no help of theirs that she wanted if they were going to try and bullshit her like that.

“No,” she said, her voice carrying a strength that she didn’t feel she had.

She barely noticed the others shifting in response.

‘I’m sorry? I don’t understand.’ Camas tucked his hands into his sleeves.

‘I respectfully decline your offer,’ she wrote, and hoped the tone of “go fuck yourself” didn’t carry over through text.

Camas tutted and shifted his weight. ‘Surely you understand the benefits of accepting?’

Lennox pressed her tongue firmly to the roof of her mouth. ‘I will not be spending any amount of time with your wizard doctors. Or any doctor for that matter.’ Why bother, when she already knew what they would find? The only ones benefitting would be them.

Camas looked at her, and even though he wasn’t there in person it still made her skin crawl. ‘Of course, we cannot force you,’ he conceded, much to her surprise. ‘But, we will not divert an entire star destroyer for one civilian when a war has just broken out across the galaxy. Arrangements can be made for your stay until such a time that evidence of your claims emerge or if you change your mind and accept our offer.’

She blinked up at him slowly. ‘Agreed.’

‘It seems been making a lot of concessions lately; first those unruly Nulls of Skirata’s and now you.’ He said offhandedly to himself.

But he didn’t realize the news he just broke to her, and her head started to swim at the new information. Was that what was going on here? A galaxy wide war? They kept asking if she was a separatist, so who was separating from what, and who’s side did she end up on?

Her mind raced, and it certainly washed away the lingering aggression without the threat of hospitalization hanging over her head. Paranoia though - that crept up slowly. She would have to be more careful about how she acted until she found out more about this war.

Maybe Besh would tell her - he had been open to her questions before now. Or maybe Scorch if she could pull him into a conversation. He was the most approachable of Delta even if that wasn’t saying much.

General Camas had apparently deemed her part of the conversation over seeing as how he didn’t speak directly to her after that. She kept her eyes on the live text just in case, but there wasn’t anything she had to comment on. It was mainly Camas speaking to Delta about a continuation of their mission, only with modified parameters. Apparently, since they were going to be based out of the Prosecutor and not on planet, that was where she was going too, yet again under their watch unless they were on a mission.

They didn’t like it, that much was obvious, and while they logically gave reason for their protest to the idea, they relented in the end. It surprised her, honestly. She agreed with them; she was a civilian, unfamiliar with almost everything, and would be better monitored on the base where there was less of a chance to slip away if she ended up being a Separatist spy after all.

She didn’t agree with that last part, personally, but she understood their perspective.

But it seemed Camas had an answer for everything, and it made her wonder if this was somehow the only other option he considered aside from taking her away to their healers. She was a civilian, so she would be considered a guest like any other on board the Prosecutor. She wasn’t familiar with a lot of things, so they would teach her the same way Besh was teaching her Basic. And there was still a chance she was a spy, so being confined on a ship gave her less placed to disappear off to, as opposed to a whole planet.

Lennox didn’t care either way. She was resigned to being watched and every hour of every day for the foreseeable future. Delta even admitted their specialty were assassination, get in, kill, get out, kind of missions, but it did nothing to sway Camas.

It sent a cold shiver down her spine. They really could kill her at any time and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. It made running away more appealing, if only for a second before she realized they would just hunt her down if she did. She didn’t fancy them at her heals like that. It was bad enough with them being her shadows.

She tugged at the back of her hair as the six of them walked out of the room to… wherever. She didn’t like this any more than they did. But she clutched the strap of her bag all the same and followed them diligently as she had been, and would be… for now.

~~~

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