Balmorra, Orbital Station
Greetings and Salutations, Quinly!
Tell you the truth, Esh-Kha don't hold a candle to Rattataki. In my personal opinion that is. And I've personally shot hundreds of both in the past few days. Long, long, long days. But I've left you plenty of the murderous bastards, both ancient and recently harvested across the Galaxy to recruit for whatever cause. Gotta warn you, though, they might be plotting the end of the Galaxy or some such undertaking they seem to love in the ancient times. Not sure how that's aligned with your mission to save that same galaxy?!
Seriously, I finally ran down Ivory, and ended up back to back with him shooting at Rogun's men, rather than shooting Ivory. He is a Rattataki, and if I wasn't warned he was as unsavory as it gets, I'd be adding him to my crew. Handy with a blaster, and a looker! Well, figuring men for whom they are, ain't exactly my strength! So, I put him back into his cell, though with some improvements the Republic coughed up (small mercy is still a mercy), and got for my troubles a few leads on Rogun's safe houses. Only some haughty Jedi (no offence!) ordered me to spring a SIS agent off Hoth. Like I haven't seen enough of Hoth! Blast it to… well, Hoth! I want to go to Balmorra!
….
Ahem, greetings again, Master Q! It's been a day since I've started typing this, and what a day!
So…I've almost burned the engines out, and my fuel bill might be ruinous. But I docked at Balmorra before anyone woke up, 'cause it's nobody's business but mine. I paced the shuttle, and I walked the streets of Bugtown so fast, I might as well run.
Numen opened the doors and whooped at the site of me, dragged me in, carried me off. Life was so wondrous that it was not till later that I'd noticed neatly packed boxes in the bedroom. I've asked casual like if he was going somewhere, and he laughed and jumped up, pulling me back to my feet: "Come on, I'll show you. The Pub coughed up creds… you have to see it to believe it!"
Gotta tell you, a shuttle ride's far too short when a man like Numen has an arm around your waist. Funny, huh?
Long story short, he took me to a toy of a ship, a gleaming beauty. Made me close my eyes, walked me to the bridge. It was a perfect thing, everything top-notch, high tech, and not a spot of grease. It flew like nothing else in the world, light, fast, almost responding to a thought rather than touch.
"Love it?" Numen asked.
"You kidding, Num? The girl's a beaut."
He kissed me: "This one's even better. Sorry I've kept quiet, didn't want to spoil the surprise, love."
I've shrugged: "Never noticed. Have business in the port, so I've thought I'd check up on the old buddy."
"Have it your way, Tishujen. Suppose, I believe that you didn't miss me one single bit. Let's look forward, not back. What do you say? Two Captains, two ships, you and I? We'll pick every credit the Pub has on offer! "
I opened my mouth to say "yes", then looked around the state of the art bridge. All corners straight, everything gleaming. And instead of a yes, what I've actually said was: "Don't know, Numen. Must think 'bout it."
"What's there to think about? Finish here, while I put us through to your senator and maybe pull another contract or two on the side, drop Riggs at the shuttle bay, and we're in business!" he looked at me, laughter dancing in his eyes.
"Wait… you know about Riggs?" I asked incredulously.
"Sweetheart, who doesn't? You want a secret lover? That would be me. Again, why look back, Tishujen?" He snuggled me close, found that spot between the lekku, teased it. "It makes every kind of sense, Tishujen. Every possible kind, and some impossible too."
It was hard to turn around in his arms, and kiss him on the cheek, sister-like, after that. But I suddenly saw it clear. "You'll have a bright life, Numen, with or without me."
He chuckled, shook his head, asked softly: "And you reckon that Riggs won't?"
I didn't reckon, I knew. So I told Numen. He walked me to the shuttle, quiet. Before I boarded, he said: "You know you will regret leaving me, right?" Yeah, I knew that too. So I ran down the steps, kissed him one last time for the road, and wished him every possible happiness. And some impossible too.
Well, Quinly, I'm going to drop datapad off into the mail, and go wake Ord Mantell's finest son to do the hero thing.
Keep your horns clean!
Tishujen
P.S: In my experience if you quibble too much on the account of swords vs men, some men step right in to make that choice for you. The Purple Eyes is of that breed. So make up your mind!