Satele Shan and Darth Malgus stood facing each other, Satele's bluish blade locked with Malgus' red one.
Suddenly, Malgus began to look somehow nervous.
"Hey, Satele," he said in a chatting tone, "Do you know what is the time?"
Satele winced, but didn't yield. "Seriously? Why do you ask?"
Malgus shot her an accusative look. "Well, wasn't it you who just stabbed my watch with a lightsaber?"
Satele glowered at him. "What a Sith lord you are that you don't even know what's the time?"
Malgus glowered back. "And what a Jedi are you that you can't answer even this simple question?" he asked pointedly. "Aren't you Jedi supposed to help people in need?"
The Brentaalian Jedi raised her brows. "Am I supposed to help a Sith lord? Why do you need to know that, anyway?"
"That's not your problem, is it?" Malgus retorted cautiously.
"Ashamed to tell?" Satele taunted him. "Are you late for a lunch or something?"
"Do you actually know what time is it?" Malgus shouted at her.
"Why should I care?" She shouted back.
"Because of the bomb you've planted in there?"
Satele froze. "A bomb?"
"You don't know about it?"
Satele, reluctant to admit that she does not, shot back another question. "And how do you know about it?"
Malgus shrugged as much as his position allowed him to. "I'm a Sith lord, remember?"
Satele's eyes widened. "What's the time, then?"
As one man they released themselves from the blade lock, bursting out from the chamber they dueled in into the maze of corridors in the depths of the republic base.
Finally, they came to a halt, side by side, in the mess, both staring at the big square clock on the wall.
"Half past ten?" Satele almost yelled. "Already?"
Malgus looked at her. "Fancy running?"