Quinn's morning proved difficult.

The twi'lek seemed intent on disrupting his routines, the order in which he preferred to function. It was as if he closed the doors to his mental rooms only to have the small, blue twit come along and burst them wide open again, to rampage madly through whatever space his mind was occupying right then, only to leave in a huff, with Quinn's own equilibrium completed wrecked. He'd taken to actually using those breathing exercises designed to combat stress that he taught to his youngest, most raw recruits, just to calm himself after she left him alone again.

Which is why Quinn resolutely ensconced himself on the bridge. Although if anyone asked him, the notion he was only striving to escape Vette's overactive complaints about breakfast would not be his first assertion. Even if the bridge was the one space on the ship he expressly refused the twi'lek popular entrance. Only after she horrified him once with her maniacal taunts, "There are so many buttons in there. If I touched one, I'd have to touch them all. What would happen if I just went in there and started touching every … single … blinking … button." Quinn knew she was mocking him, of course. He has seen Vette's workspace with all its sundry mechanics, all of which worked appropriately. It just didn't matter. He knew that he needed somewhere on the ship where she couldn't appear, and that was reason enough to deny her the bridge.

He refused to admit he was hiding from the twi'lek.

So when he heard the natter of approaching footsteps coming onto the bridge he knew it was Lusiel. Quinn hoped she wasn't going to mention anything about breakfast. He couldn't refuse Lusiel's access to the bridge, anyway. Which meant if she was approaching to complain about the muffins at breakfast he would have to endure her ribbing, and he shuddered thinking of it.

Which just amused Lusiel, too. She might have tossed out some witty commentary regarding bowel movements right then, just to needle her precious captain. But then Quinn stood up to meet her, turning his body to face the doorway where she stopped, and he straightened into telling readiness, his eyebrow curled in query. The way he stood there - his blue eyes shining towards her, with the stars providing a backdrop to his form and the galaxy map highlighting his dark hair – and Lusiel practically choked on the remnants of muffin in her throat. No man should appear so beautiful as Quinn did right then. Even frowning and obviously vexed, Quinn was a stunning specimen of male human.

"Good morning, captain." Lusiel said, finally. She opted to lean a hip against the communications console at the rear of the bridge, briefly hoping there were no messages in the thing asking for escort that her ship would need to endure.

Quinn nodded with brief deference, "My lord."

"I didn't sleep well."

"I'm sorry. Were you in need of medical assistance, my lord?"

"No, I've meditated this morning. If the issue persists, I'll inform you." Lusiel bit her lip as she assured him, watched Quinn relaxing from his concern she might tease him. Bran muffins, indeed. It was so adorably easy to get under Quinn's skin. Which is precisely why Vette persisted in pestering him. Not that Vette thought Quinn adorable in the least. But that bothering him was just so effortless a thing. If Quinn would only react with negligent disregard, Vette wouldn't have half so much fun playing against Quinn's nerves and she would seek out some new target for her teasing. Lusiel pondered where she might find someone else Vette would happily tease as much as she did Quinn. A Jawa, perhaps. Perhaps she could have a Jawa companion on board to serve her. Someday.

"Quinn, step to the right. No, a little bit more. Thank you." Lusiel smiled at him.

Quinn frowned as he complied, obviously confused. "I don't understand, my lord."

"I like the way the galaxy map emphasizes the darkness of your hair, Quinn. Makes it look blue-black. It's quite striking."

Quinn felt himself flushing hot, the heat that washed through the skin of his face. But he stood there silent, letting the blush steal over his features and his eyes grow blue-black as he looked back at her. Lusiel lost her smile and became suddenly serious. She loved it when his eyes became dark that way. She took her hip off the console and stepped forward. Until she was just within reach of her captain. She never broke the gaze they were sharing. Lusiel lifted a hand and reached out, until her fingers brushed against Quinn's brow. He pressed his lips tightly close even as her fingers moved, running downwards along the side of his face, across his jaw, before dropping once again to her side.

Quinn couldn't stop his own hand from rising, his fingers reaching out as if he would touch her. And then an insistent mechanical chirp began peeling through the bridge. Quinn blinked while Lusiel sighed loudly and dramatically. She glared malevolently behind Quinn at the damned dinging machine with its damned interruption. But her vehemence didn't stop Quinn from stepping backwards and away from her. Lusiel could feel the arousal still beating at him, the way it ached heatedly there in her own lower female parts, too. But he didn't demonstrate any of his feelings as he turned his attention to the insistent console, even if his breathing was slightly rougher than normal. He certainly didn't pout as Lusiel did, standing there with her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at the machine.

Damn machine, she thought. Damn you! She considered kicking the thing. But Quinn was plucking away at the console right there in front of it. He smiled suddenly, "My lord! My program worked. I believe our ship is being tracked."

Lusiel startled. "What? Where and by whom? Explain what you mean, captain."

"I noticed some strange signatures in the energy fields nearby the ship over the past couple of days. At first I imagined them to be indicative of space clouds or even derelict debris that maintained some kind of still-working electrical systems. But I created a program designed to track the fields, just to be certain. And it's clear, now, that the fields are, in fact, moving parallel to our own vessel. We're being followed!"

Lusiel growled softly. "I need to bring this matter to my master." She turned and left the bridge. The holoterminal blinked and whirled as they waited together. Vette came in and stood nearby the doorway into the mess, watching the proceedings with vague interest. Baras appeared, his metallic visage staring down at them, "Apprentice, I assume there's an important reason for you to upset my schedule with this interruption."

"My ship is being tracked, master."

"Explain." Quinn provided the Sith Lord a brief description of the results of his monitoring. Baras grunted, shaking his head in response, "It's Nomen Karr."

Lusiel grunted, disgustedly. As if there was any doubt, and why would Baras even feel the need to speak of so much obvious a thing. Lusiel had no need to cower behind her master, no reason to beg him for the simplest answers. "Of course it's Nomen Karr! Only an idiot wouldn't seek to keep me in his sight, once he knew I was coming after him. This Jedi is no idiot. No, it's only essential I confront this threat immediately, as I'm telling you now."

"Indeed. Intercept this vessel tracking you and deal with whoever is on board. Send Nomen Karr the appropriate message. I will not tolerate his continued interference in my business. I look forward to hearing of your success, apprentice."

"I have no doubt of that, my lord." Lusiel scowled as Baras' image disappeared. Stars, she despised him. But she turned, prepared to devote her attention to the immediate task at hand. She only gestured towards Quinn, trusting completely in his ability to act appropriately. He nodded back at her, bowing slightly before returning to the bridge. Lusiel squared her shoulders, centering herself. Then she strode to her quarters to pull her armor on.