Asmodeus Halcyon was a patient man. He believed in the virtue of waiting for the right opportunity, for the right outcome. He rarely ever lost his temper, he rarely ever raised his voice. Occasionally, however, he did find himself gripping the armrests of his chair in frustration.

His quarters on the charter ship were far too extravagant for his taste. The luxury cruiser was designed to house VIP guests and hedonists with far too much money to spend. The bed was fluffed, the room was stocked with a full bar, and a crystalline chandelier hung from the ceiling, the very example of extraordinary taste.

Asmodeus shook his head. There was a reason he always chartered cargo carriers for these trips. The team needed to be sharp, focused for the battle in front of them. This ship offered far too much distraction. Especially so now that the new members were accompanying them for the first time. Asmodeus did not want them to get the impression that being a Halcyon meant a life of excess.

He pressed a button on the outside of his armor crate, and it opened with a hisss. Inside, his familiar armor and helmet sat ready for action. Asmodeus lifted the helmet and reflected on its visage. He had grown fond of this particular look over the years. The spiked helmet gave an almost regal appearance, as though a helmet and crown had been melded together, and the armor he wore reflected that visual style. But over time, its age had begun to show. There were countless scratches and scrapes, scars from battles won and lost over the years. He did his best to keep his armor buffed and cleaned on a regular basis, but all of this only slowed the effects of time. He sighed, and placed the helmet back in its resting spot.

Rodeo was very excited to board the ship that would be their home for the next few days. He had spared no expense to make sure that the new members of the clan would find their first mission with the group one that they would never forget. The ship was packed to the brim with entertainment options of all tastes and styles. The main dining hall was stocked with an open bar that never shut down, thanks to its droid caretender. The ship had a persistent holonet connection, so all avenues of holovids and serials were available. The finest food processors were stationed all over the ship. At any point anyone could walk up to a processor and access the kitchen's entire menu instantaneously.

Yup, he thought, I did all right.

"Rodeo, you done screwed up big this time!"

What?

Rodeo turned and saw Barrow approaching down the hallway. The tall bald Rattataki was wearing his armored legplates and boots, but was donning an open trenchcoat within nothing underneath up top.

"Barrow! I figured you'd be the one person that I wouldn't have to worry about with the ship. This is paradise for you, right?"

Barrow walked up and shook Rodeo's hand. "Close, but not quite. Where's the dancers? Where's the serving girls and boys? Where's the personal touch, Rodeo?"

"Ah, yeah. Well, I had to make some concessions. I knew Asmo would be pissed about the ship, but I also figured that he'd go along with it. But it had to be unmanned. Bringing a bunch of civilians on board? That'd be crossing the line and he would have chartered a new ship on the spot. Then we'd be back on a cargo carrier. Concessions, Barrow. Even balance."

"So now I gotta spend three days with no warm bodies to keep me company at night?" Barrow pouted.

Rodeo shook his head. "Sorry, buddy. Only living beings on the ship are those of the Halcyon clan. Though I hear Oryon is quite the cuddler, if you wanted to hit him up."

Barrow pondered for a moment. "Well that brings up an interesting point. There are plenty of fresh faces on board right now. I noticed a couple of the new guys are kind of lookers themselves. Is that weird? I mean, its not like we're really related?"

Rodeo put a hand on his chin, thinking. "Well, that's fair, I guess. Still seems kind of weird though. I mean, most of the group considers each other family after all."

Barrow shrugged, "I don't know. I see new faces, people I've never met before. We're alone a big old pleasure yacht for a few days...I can see it happening."

Rodeo pondered this. "I don't think so. Seems unsavory. Like messing around with your cousin or something."

Barrow grinned at Rodeo. "C'mon now hillbilly, don't tell me you never kissed a cousin before."

Rodeo blushed. "You're vulgar, you know that?"

Barrow laughed. "Ah maybe I'll find a little companionship this trip after all." He began to wander down the hall. "Catch you later, big boy."

"Don't be a creep, Barrow!" Rodeo called after him, and smiled.

In the cockpit of the ship, Akator was preparing for launch. His cybernetics were more extensive than Alan or Fosters, and he was able to network with most of the ships interface through his optical ports, requiring little physical movement to operate the vessel. Technology comforted him, and he was never more at home than when he was piloting a ship.

"Remarkable." A voice came from behind him, and Akator turned to face Volaro, who had entered the cabin.

"Master Volaro. Welcome." Akator spoke, his voice human but with just a toice of audio processing. The cyborg parts in his vocal chords gave his voice a strange quality, a hybrid of human and droid sounds, and he was aware that it made some people uncomfortable. If Volaro felt any discomfort, however, he did not show it.

"Greetings Akator, and please, there's no reason for you to call me Master. None at all." Volaro studied the cabin, which was wide and covered in blinking lights and switches before a large cylindrical viewport. "Are you piloting the ship yourself? I see seats for three."

Akator nodded. "That is correct. This vessel is designed to be captained by an on-duty crew of three, plus Captain, with a rotating schedule to reduce fatigue and human error."

"I see." Volaro paced the cabin. "But you are here alone?"

"My cybernetic enhancements allow me to control the vessel through my on-board processors, eliminating the need to be in physical contact with the controls in order to operate them. This cuts the need for three pilots down to one."

"And as for the rotating schedule?"

Akator swiveled his chair back towards the viewport. "I have a variety of systems that allow me to function at peak efficiency for approximately 2 standard weeks at a time without fatigue or increasing my margin of error. Do not fret, Volaro, I am perfectly capable of piloting the ship for the duration of our journey."

Volaro frowned, "You're still a young man, son, despite your enhancements. The unfortunate circumstance that caused you to need these implants may have taken parts of your body, but you still need to nurture your mind. Don't become like that abominable creature in the lower decks. He's more machine, now, than man."

Akator turned back to Volaro. "To whom do you refer?"

Volaro pulled out his datapad and displayed a visual image of the Halcyon Legacy. "This one, here. Name of Quarros. He too was a part of that ghastly Czerka program that you and the other two were in. But his injuries were quite severe, and I do believe that very little of the old Quarros survived. Czerka made him into little more than a battle droid."

Akator studied the profile with interest. "I'll have to meet him later."

Volaro nodded. "Do that, son. And don't forget to get out of this cabin from time to time. Some sentient interaction would do you good."

Akator nodded. "I will try."

Adara stood in an observation deck near the port side of the ship. It was her favorite spot on the ship she had found so far. It was small, intimate. A handful of relaxing chairs and a wall full of books lined the room. And a large window looked out the side of the ship. Adara looked forward to falling asleep watching the stars fly past.

A sudden PING startled her out of her daydream, and a metallic voice came through the intercom. "The ship will be launching in 5 minutes. All personnel are to clear the dock."

"Hi." A voice came from behind her. Adara turned and saw a young woman with blonde hair in the doorway, a Jedi robe draped over her shoulders.

"Hello." Adara said, quietly.

"I'm Lilia, I think we had some classes together back on Tython." She extended her hand.

Adara shook it quickly and then withdrew back into herself, sitting in one of the chairs. She pulled her knees up to her chest and offered a faint smile. "I remember you. You graduated a year before I did."

Lilia looked out the observation window. "Thats right. I thought I recognized you. I think you and I are the only girls on board."

Adara shrugged lightly. "I guess so. I haven't met everyone yet. I only met Michael yesterday, and he brought me straight here."

Lilia turned back to Adara, a concerned look on her face. "Michael came for you, directly?"

Adara nodded. "He did. I assumed he recruited everyone himself. Is that not the case?"

Lilia frowned for a moment, then shrugged it off. "He's a busy guy. I've been trying to get in to see him for weeks. He always is running off, I'm starting to think he's avoiding me."

Adara looked around. "Well, if you wanted to talk to him, this would be a good chance. Seems to be a small group of people going on this trip."

The ship shuddered as the repulsors activated, and the pleasure yacht began to ascend. Adara stood and walked over by Lilia to watch the liftoff.

The girls watched as they rose above the docks into the night sky of Nar Shaddaa. The bright lights of the casinos were visible all around, and speeders hurled through the busy skyways like fireflies.

A moment later, the skies grew darker as the atmosphere grew thinner, and it wasn't long before they were out in the coldness of space, leaving the Smuggler's Moon far behind them.

Lilia turned to Adara and smiled. "Hey, want to see something neat?"

Adara smiled weakly. "Sure."

"Come on," Lilia took Adara's hand and led her down the hallways. Adara found herself smiling, wondering if she had just made a friend. "I hear they have a frozen man down in the cargo bay."