Vector was eager to accompany me on missions. I'll admit that at first I was rather worried about the prospect. The politicians and diplomats I knew proved to be (to put it politely) rather robust or (to put it plainly) ignorant in any sort of weapon proficiency. Imagine my surprise when Vector proved to be a highly able combatant, displaying remarkable speed, grace, and poise - like a dancer. Over the next couple of weeks, I found myself watching him intently in battle, my breath held and heart racing, as he dispatched our enemies. On several occasions I even discovered myself blushing afterward. As luck would have it, my deep maroon skin hid the evidence, but every time it happened I hoped that Vector or Kaliyo had not noticed. Vector would be too polite to mention it, while Kaliyo would have brought it up at every possible opportunity.

One night as I completed my reports for Intelligence, I reflected on this infatuation. I hadn't felt like this since I was 16, back on Iridonia. As part of our rite of passage, my grandfather had taught a neighbor boy and me an epic poem. I developed a massive crush on this boy, Jorr'al, when he tried to steal kisses from me when Grandfather wasn't watching. Shortly after our Selenoren, I left for Imperial training. I never saw him again, but always thought of him fondly.

Now I liked a new neighbor. As far as I could discern, Vector remained unaware of my interest and I was determined to keep it a secret. At least until it passed or until I could figure out what to do about it; the former being more likely. I hoped.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes. I couldn't concentrate anymore; my slight obsession over my small crush had shattered my ability to think clearly.

I turned off my datapad and tossed it aside, yawning. Reports were dull. I had spent over three hours trying to catch up and my eyes were beginning to close. I need a snack. I grabbed my datapad, turned it off, and swiveled around in my chair.

Vector stood in the doorway, watching me intently.

Poodoo, I thought, my cheeks flushing.

"You look very calm tonight, Agent. It suits you."

"Reports." I stifled another yawn. "How long have you been standing there, Vector?" Act normal, I begged myself.

"Ten minutes."

"Oh?" Ten...minutes? "Say something next time, please. You'll be a welcome distraction."

"We don't mind." He stepped inside the cockpit and clasped his hands behind his back. "Agent, there is something we need to ask you."

"Go on, Vector."

"We are not as adept at reading people as we used to be, so we hope you won't be offended if we are so direct."

I nodded for him to continue.

"Has our relationship become unprofessional?"

He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly that I found myself blushing again. What is the matter with you? I scolded myself. "What makes you say that?"

"Curiosity, mostly. But we also do not wish to overstep boundaries."

I considered his question. During my years with Intelligence, I rarely possessed an opportunity to get close to anybody. Most of my previous missions had been solo ones, so when Keeper had instructed me to work with Kaliyo, I had been mightily surprised. She and I formed an interesting bond, one that I was still a bit wary of. I fully expected Kaliyo to bolt eventually - either when the credits dried up or when the missions weren't fun anymore.

My thoughts then turned to the Fixers, Watchers, and even Keeper. These were probably the most professional of my relationships. Pleasantries were commonplace, and I didn't really know much about the personal lives of my co-workers. Perhaps this came from working for Intelligence. Or maybe I just hadn't devoted the time to get to know anyone.

What did he mean by 'unprofessional' anyway? I wondered. I smiled at him in the hallway and we shared a laugh or two over meals, but Kaliyo and I did things like that, too: sparring during hyperspace jumps and drinking when we docked.

Does Vector...know?

As much as I didn't want to admit it, it was possible. Being a Kilik Joiner, Vector had a hypersensitivity that rivaled only a Sith. He could sense things that Kaliyo and I couldn't, though I wouldn't find out how uncannily accurate his abilities were until much, much later.

In the end, I finally chose what I interpreted to be a fairly ambiguous answer: "I say that this is my ship and you're on my team so...we can be as friendly as we wish to be."

Vector nodded. When he smiled, I detected a hint of relief.

"Are you hungry? I was about to get a snack. You're welcome to join me."

"We could eat."

I rose from my seat and Vector stood aside to let me pass. I headed to the kitchen, the dialogue shifting to past reports for Intelligence. "I'm not sure about you, but reports are my least favorite thing about my work. I'd much rather be out in the field." I opened the pantry and pulled out a few bags of dehydrated fruit and vegetable chips and tossed them onto the counter. Vector opened a bag of dried vegetables. I tore open the other bag and began to nibble on a shriveled red fruit. Lindfruit. My favorite.

"We always enjoyed reports. Completing diplomatic reports was a good time to reflect on our failures and revel in our successes."

I chewed my snack thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought about it that way before." I picked up another piece of red fruit. "Do you miss working for Diplomatic Service?"

Vector shrugged. "We still travel. We still meet people. Essentially, Intelligence isn't that different."

"I wouldn't imagine it is." I picked up another piece of fruit. "Except for the parties. I've been to three parties as an operative - two for Intelligence and one for Diplomatic Service - and only one was black robe attire. Guess which one that was?"

Vector smiled. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Not really. Everyone kept going on and on about politics. I stuck out like a rancor in a nerf herd." I giggled at the memory.

"Diplomats do tend to be long-winded, humorless, and dull." Vector reached for another vegetable chip and casually took a bite. "There must have been other things to occupy you there. Drinking or dancing, maybe? Do you dance, Agent?"

"Yes. Well, no, not really. I mean, I love to dance, but I'm...uncoordinated."

"We doubt that. You are full of natural grace."

I giggled again. "Only when I fall over."

Vector laughed. "We believe you are better than you think you are. Come." He held out his hand.

I stared at him, a piece of fruit midway to my mouth. "You're joking."

"We are not."

"I'll step on your feet."

"Maybe." His hand remained outstretched. "But that is of no consequence. Just follow our lead and you'll be fine, Agent."

I set down my dried fruit and reluctantly took his hand. It was warm to the touch. "Don't blame me if you can't walk tomorrow."

Vector walked around the counter, still holding my hand. When he stepped in front of me, I looked up and studied his face. A faint smile played at his lips, but his eyes betrayed nothing.

"Put your other hand on our shoulder." I lifted my arm slowly, forcing myself to stop trembling, and placed my hand on his shoulder, the silky fabric of his robe pliant under my fingertips. He placed his other hand carefully at my hip.

"Now, stand tall and follow us." He gently squeezed my hand and stepped toward me. I backed away, mirroring his steps. Vector guided me adeptly around the tiny space, though it took a few turns around the kitchen before I really relaxed. His steps were so precise and fluid that he seemed to follow an imaginary song. It was quite clear that if one of us was a natural it was him, not me.

As we danced, he watched my face intently, the black pools of his eyes glittering in the bright lights of the galley. I stared back at his impassive face, wondering what he was thinking. The diplomat and the faces unreadable. Who would win a round of Pazaak?

"Who taught you how to dance, Vector?"

"We had a dance instructor before we left for Diplomatic Service. We remember being quite good." He paused a moment before adding, "You are better than you claim."

"Watch out. These Imperial-issue boots are heavy," I laughed.

"What are you doing?" I froze, turning to face the doorway where Kaliyo stood leaning against the frame. Her smirk indicated she had just stumbled upon a delicious treat.

"Dancing," said Vector simply. I closed my eyes and inwardly groaned. Oh, poodoo. I could expect some merciless teasing later from Kaliyo. My mind raced with excuses, but doubted that she would bite. She was crazy, not stupid.

I was so preoccupied with Kaliyo that I had forgotten my hands were still on Vector's motionless body. After a few moments of awkward silence, Vector gently untangled our fingers and gave me a short bow. "It was a pleasure, Agent. We look forward to the next dance." Then he nodded at Kaliyo and left.

Kaliyo raised an eyebrow at me and smiled wickedly. "Somebody's got a crush on Bug Boy."

"Have you and 2V set the coordinates for our next destination?"

Kaliyo rolled her eyes. "Oh, no, Agent, don't bother trying to change the subject. Bug Boy may be creepy and all, but you're in desperate need of some fun. So, you know," her eyes twinkled, "go have some fun." She winked at me and laughed as she exited the kitchen.

After cleaning the galley, I went back to my quarters. As I unbuckled my boots and removed my Imperial uniform, I thought about Vector, his concerns about professionalism, and the dance.

Was dancing with him unprofessional? I wondered, absently removing the insignia from my uniform and placing it on my nightstand next to Vector's book. Kaliyo seems to think so, but does Vector? Does he want to be unprofessional? Do I? I crumpled up my suit and shoved it down the laundry chute, silently cursing to myself. I had forgotten to tell 2V not to add so much starch to my clothing. Now that the droid insisted upon overseeing laundry duty, my uniforms were so stiff I could barely sit down.

After shrugging my gown over my head and slipping my arms through the sleeves, I rolled back the covers and flopped into bed. Reports will take at least another two hours, I thought, flipping out the light. Maybe I'll even look over my finished reports to re-evaluate my failures and successes before submitting them.