The hum of the lightsaber filled the vast, shadowy emptiness of the warehouse, defying Beriska's attempts to disbelieve what she was seeing.
Mika was leaping about acrobatically in the center of a ring of stacked crates, a green lightsaber in her hands flashing around in a fast, dizzying array of attacks and blocks. She'd stop and twirl the lightsaber about in one place, then flip through the air and land with a roll, bringing the blade up in a devastating slash. All of the motions were fluid, rhythmic, and followed a pattern of some kind that Beriska could sense, but couldn't quite follow.
For the first time in her life, she could say that she was shocked to her core. In the year that she'd had Mika, the girl had been extremely tight-lipped about her past, and in her experience, that was usually the result of some horrible trauma. If what she was seeing tonight was part of that past, it was a good reason Mika was so secretive, so mistrustful, so quick to push people away. It suddenly explained a great deal, but at the same time, only raised more questions. Witnessing Mika training with the lightsaber only made her realize how little she knew about the girl.
This, however, was beyond bad. She'd have to get Mika off-planet, no doubt about it, now. She couldn't risk having the Inquisitorius discover the girl here—it would be the end of the Blue Nebula, and probably her, too, if not by the hand of the Empire, then by the hand of her masters higher up. Black Sun was very unforgiving, and this was the kind of heat she didn't need.
"Blast it, Mika," she grumbled softly, not really knowing what to do. Nothing was ever easy where the Rutian was concerned, that was for sure. She'd had a feeling that the girl had been up to something, and had decided to follow her on a whim. Now, she almost wished she hadn't. Her hand tightened around the tracking remote.
Best to get it over with, she thought with a trace of sadness. She cared more about the little fry than she probably should, but what had to be done would be done. No use standing there all night gawking. "Mika?" she said, stepping into view. "Mika?" she asked again, entering the ring.
Mika spun around, eyes wide in shock as she crouched down in a defensive posture, the lightsaber in her right hand haled above and behind her head and pointing at Beriska.
The girl looks ready to bolt, she thought, taking another step into the circle of light cast by the fusion lantern in the center of the ring. "Give me the lightsaber." It took all her courage to say it. The response only heightened her fear.
Mika hissed and backed away to the opposite edge of the ring. Her eyes darted about wildly, looking for an escape. Finding none, they focused on Beriska, making her tentacles twitch nervously.
Mika's gaze was flat and devoid of any emotion but fear.
She's deciding whether or not to kill me, she realized, recognizing the look from many years in Black Sun. It sent a chill down her spine, and she knew that if Mika decided to do so, there might not be much that could stop her. "Blast it, Mika!" she said, her anger rising. "Give me that flaming lightsaber!" She took an involuntary step back, bumping into the crate behind her as Mika lowered her head and glared at her from under brows furrowed with sudden rage.
"No." It was barely above a whisper, and stated in such a way to leave no room for compromise.
She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. This was not going at all how she expected, although she should have known that Mika wasn't going to just come along docilely. She took a deep breath and decided to try a different tack.
"Mika, please," she said quietly, stepping forward again. She tucked the remote in her pants pocket and held out her hands. "Give me the lightsaber. We'll go home, okay? Nothing bad will happen. I just want—"
"Back!" she hissed through clenched teeth as Beriska took another step forward. "Just stay back!"
She held up her hands. "Okay, okay, I won't move." Who knew what the girl could do with the Force? Hell, what she would do?
"Why are you here?" Tears brimmed in her eyes, but there was no change in her steely gaze.
"I worried. You left angry, and I didn't want you going somewhere and hurting yourself or putting yourself in danger."
A soft, rapid-fire drumming came from outside the warehouse as rain began falling.
"Why?" Mika asked.
"Why—? Because I care about you, you—" she started to say angrily, growing impatient with the girl's stubbornness.
"Stay back!" she yelled, raising her free hand.
Beriska had seen that motion long before, but choked down her fear and stepped forward anyway. "You won't hurt me."
Tears finally spilled from her eyes, running freely down both sides of her face. "I don't want to," she whispered, a flash of sadness passing across her face, then gone in an instant, locked away behind a durasteel glare. "You shouldn't have followed me!"
"What, and let you go off and do who knows what?" she scoffed. She was less than two meters away now… "Only now I find you here, doing something that you could be hunted down and executed for! My stars, girl! Don't you have any sense? The Empire would love to get their hands on you!"
"Don't you think I know that?" she snapped, sniffing. "What was I supposed to do? Tell you? It's the only peace I have!"
"Yes, blast it all! Why didn't you tell me?" She threw her hands up. "I could have done something!"
"What, take away my lightsaber? That is exactly why I don't trust anyone!" She shook her head. "I can't. Not with this."
They stared at each other in silence broken only by the hissing of rain outside.
"You could've left long ago," Beriska said at last. "You could have cut open the safe in my office, taken all that money and been gone before anyone could've stopped you." She felt nauseous at the thought of what Mika could've done to Isara or Danya if she'd been so inclined, and all the while the girl had never let on.
Mika said nothing, just gazed at her, misery in her eyes.
"Why didn't you?"
Her iron control cracked a little, then, allowing some of the anguish she surely must be feeling to come through. "Because I'm a fool," she answered in a whisper.
"No, you're not. You're anything but, Mika," she said, slowly taking a step forward. "You didn't because there's goodness in you. That's why I like you, though the Divine knows you make it hard sometimes." She took another step forward, then another.
Mika watched her warily. "I can't lose my lightsaber," she said, "and I don't want to leave."
She sighed, aching for the girl. The Blue Nebula, as rough and tumble as it was sometimes, was probably the closes the poor girl had come to stability in a while. "Look, Mika. I'd love to be able to have you stay, but you—you're a Jedi, and you know there's a target on your back." She shook her head. "I promise you, though, that I'll try to keep you as safe as I can. I know a few people who owe me favors and I can call one in to take you somewhere safe." One name in particular came to mind—Kryss Andano—but she pushed it aside. The man was a hopeless playboy with a Twi'lek obsession.
"I don't have enough money to buy my freedom." She lowered the lightsaber and stood up, though she kept the blade lit and in front of her.
"We can work that out later," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand as she slowly came closer to Mika. "You just have to trust me a little, Mika." She took the last few steps towards the girl, eyes flicking to the blade momentarily.
Beriska prided herself on the fact that she was nothing like the Hutts whose slaves were often owned unto death and involved a joyless existence of degradation and humiliation. Her policy had always revolved around treating her slaves as indentured servants employed at the Blue Nebula. They were paid a small but fair wage with which they could eventually purchase their freedom; they were well-fed and housed in a clean, comfortable dorm; and they were generally treated with respect and dignity.
"I'm scared," Mika whispered, more tears spilling from her eyes.
"I know," she answered soothingly. She put her hand over Mika's, pushing the girl's thumb off the switch keeping the lightsaber ignited, causing it to extinguish. She took the lightsaber from her and breathed a sigh of relief. "This is still yours, okay?" She tucked the hilt in her pocket. I'll put it in my safe. No one will touch it there. You can have it any time you like once I figure out how to get you off of Denon."
Mika nodded. "I don't want to leave," she said huskily, then turned her head away, closing her eyes and covering the side of her face with the back of her hand as a sob escaped from her.
"I know that, too," She wrapped her arms around the girl's narrow shoulders.
That seemed to make something give way in Mika, who covered her face with both hands and shook with silent sobs.
Not really knowing what to say, she just held the poor girl. She'd owned and freed dozens of slaves over the years, and in all that time, she'd never met one quite like Mika. The girl was unique, that was for sure. She'd bought the young Twi'lek woman from Drafulla the Hutt, who'd delivered a large shipment of spice to be stored in the back of the Blue Nebula until it could be picked up by someone higher up in the Black Sun food chain.
On an uncharacteristic whim, she'd asked Drafulla how much she'd wanted for the sullen, angry-looking girl, barefoot and dressed only in a dark green long tunic standing at the base of the ramp of the cargo speeder. Drafulla had laughed at first, and tried telling her that she wasn't a very good slave, but Beriska had insisted and ended up paying the outrageous price of ten thousand credits. The girl was beautiful, and Beriska couldn't understand then why Drafulla had laughed and remarked that it wouldn't be long before she'd regret her purchase.
The Hutt had warned her that the girl was dangerous, and told her how she'd discovered the Rutian Twi'lek stowing away in the cargo bay after they'd left Bonadon. The girl had killed seven Gamorreans before Drafulla had vented some of the atmosphere in the cargo bay to neutralize her. Even after having the slave collar put on her, she continued to try to fight when given a chance. "Like a blasted sand panther!" had been the Hutt's words.
Tonight had cleared up some of the mystery. She'd originally dismissed the Hutt's claims that Mika had single-handedly killed seven Gamorreans—that waif? she scoffed—and had assumed that Drafulla had been hinting at the girl's stubborn recalcitrance and prickly nature. It did nothing to explain the price being so high; by all rights that should have lowered the girl's value, not driven it up.
Now she knew, however, that the slug must have known the whole time that Mika was Force-user, and had charged twice what the Imperial bounty was on Jedi, figuring she'd pass her off on Beriska and make a tidy profit and get rid of a problem slave at the same time.
Her loss, she thought angrily. Despite the Hutt's warning, she felt no regrets whatsoever.
What in blazes Mika had been doing in the Corporate Sector was anyone's guess, as was where she'd gotten her lightsaber. Her guess was that the girl had smuggled it somehow, but she was entitled to her secrets.
"Are you ready to go home?" Beriska asked quietly after a long moment. The word home made her wince inwardly; would the girl ever be able to call anywhere home? No, she decided, the Blue Nebula was her home, and it was one she must leave, one that Beriska hoped Mika would be able to come back to someday.
Mika nodded, wiping the tears on her sleeve.
She released her embrace and looked around. "Let's get out of this damp, okay?"
"Can—can I carry my lightsaber until we get home?"
She felt a tingle of fear, then cursed herself a fool. There was no rancor in the girl's eyes, and she doubted Mika would need the lightsaber to kill her if she really had intended to. Still, she half-jokingly asked, "You're not going to give me a haircut with it, are you?"
Mika snorted, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Just a few centimeters off the top?"
"Something like that."
She shook her head. "No. I just want to be the one to put it in the safe."
There was a long, quiet moment where she studied Mika, and sensing no deception, she sighed in resignation. "I suppose. Just keep it hidden, girl." She pulled out the hilt and reluctantly handed it back to her.
The Twi'lek took it and studied its surface. "I got this from my Master," she said quietly. "She gave it to me on Nar Shadda after—" She shook her head. "It has some sentimental value."
"Not very Jedi-like, is it?" She went over to the crate atop which sat the fusion lantern. Inside were a few supplies under some towels and blankets.
"I never said I was a Jedi."
She was looking through the supplies and stopped, startled by the girl's forthrightness. If she wasn't a Jedi, then what in blazes was she? She looked over her shoulder and was about to inquire further, but Mika answered before she could.
"My Master was a member of the Jensaari." A smile flickered briefly, then vanished. "I'm not really sure what that makes me." She walked over and grabbed her coat, then tucked the hilt into an inner pocket.
"That's for you to decide." She'd never even heard of the Jensaari, and guessed that it was a heretical sect. "Now, is there anything here you want to take?" Her eyes widened. "Like this, for example?" she asked, pulling out the hold-out blaster.
Mika looked sheepish. "A girl has to protect herself, right?"
Shaking her head, she said, "You know my rules, girl. Why do you insist on giving me headaches by breaking them?"
"I—" she started to protest, the stopped and looked away. "I'm sorry, Beriska."
She tucked the blaster away. "Well, I guess that a blaster is the least of worries, all things considered, but until I can get you to safety, you follow the rules."
Mika laughed. "Yes, mom."
"Oh, shut up," she said without anger. "I have to think. Are there any other surprises in here I should know about? Grenades? Blaster rifles? Maybe a starfighter stashed somewhere?"
She laughed. "Yes, parked right next to my crate of thermal detonators." She came over and began putting everything in the center of one of the blankets, then tied the corners together to make a knapsack.
It was a trait of those who have had nothing for a long time that Beriska recognized; hoard anything useful or saleable. "Let's haul jets, then. My old bones can't take cold and damp anymore." She stood up.
"Aren't you aquatic-based?" she asked. "Like a nautolan?"
"Watch it, girl. Oof." She stretched, then headed towards the exit, fusion lantern in hand. "A good thing I brought my airspeeder."
Outside, her rusted-out airspeeder waited, and they quickly climbed in to get out of the rain. The upholstery was black durafiber covered with numerous mesh-tape patches, and the air inside smelled like an old taxi—stale t'bac, rust, a faint aroma of ancient air fresheners.
Mika set her bundle on the back seat and put on her safety belt. "I'm glad you flew this heap down here."
Outside, the rain drummed on the roof of the airspeeder.
"Yeah, me, too." She started the engine and tapped the throttle forward. The engines wheezed to life and a moment later, they were in air traffic, making their way back up to the Blue Nebula. "Look," she said, putting one hand behind the head rest of Mika's seat, "just lay low until I can figure something out, okay? I've got to approach this carefully. No Force stuff, Mika. Promise me that."
Mika looked out the window into the wet night, then nodded. "Okay. I promise."
"My girl," she said proudly, patting her knee. Who in blazes could she entrust with her safety? There were a few people she could ask, but only one she was really sure of but she had some reservations. Andano was a blasted rake, especially when it came to Twi'leks, and she didn't want him to try to work his charm on Mika or she'd have to neuter him. Perhaps she could find someone a little more suitable once she got back to the Blue Nebula; her datapad had hundreds of her contacts.
No matter what, she didn't want someone from Black Sun. Who, then? she wondered as she pulled the airspeeder into the alley behind the cantina. No Black Sun agents eliminated all but a handful of possibilities, and yet, it did nothing to reassure her because even those possibilities, those people she knew who owed her favors, were all still unsavory at best.
She parked her airspeeder next to Danya's little red SoroSuub, a vehicle that the Togruta was terribly proud of. Sometimes she wondered what that girl used for brains; an expensive sportster was not the way to save money to purchase one's freedom. Of course, Danya wasn't the first frivolous slave she'd owned, and most likely wouldn't be the last, and she was a good girl despite her tendency to seem somewhat aloof. Besides, it wasn't her place to tell the Togruta how to spend her money.
"Have you eaten anything tonight?" she asked, shutting off the engines.
"I had a few bantha sandwiches earlier," Mika answered. "I bought them from some besalisk a few blocks over."
She raised an eyebrow ridge. "Was he wearing an apron with a Corellian Blue Ale logo?"
"Yeah, why?"
Chuckling, she said, "Enjoy them while they last. His 'bantha connection' is stealing it from Imperials." She'd known about Azan the Besalisk for a while, and while he might make a mean sliced bantha sandwich, it was only a matter of time before the Imperials tracked him down and sent him up to Kessel. "There's plenty of food in the kitchens."
"I think I'd rather just go to bed," she mumbled, getting out and following Beriska through the back door.
The kitchens were busier than usual, which meant there was a bigger crowd in the cantina. Short order chefs of various species dressed in whites, including a gran serving as a sous-chef, bustled around the gleaming counters prepping fast-food style snacks. Bantha burgers, spicy nerf "wings" fried in butter, vegetable stir-fry and more all added their savory aromas to the air.
As they walked around the corner by her office, Isara was waiting for her. Her short blonde hair stood in stiff spikes and she wore a robe.
"Beriska," she said, eying Mika coolly. "Asha took the night off, and Danya is covering for her."
"So?" She keyed the door to her office and it slid open silently. "What's so important that you're back here waiting for me rather than working the crowds out there where you should be?"
"I want to work a half-night. Tala will cover for me." She was referring to the Zabrak girl with long dark hair and pretty face. Her eyes followed Mika as she slipped into the office, and a knowing smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Annoyed by Isara's smug look, she said. "No. Tala worked all week, and you've been pulling a few too many of these half-nights."
"But—"
"No! Now get out there and work!"
Scowling, Isara spun and stormed off, muttering sullenly under her breath. She took off her robe as she turned the corner, revealing a large tattoo of a dragon snake coiled across her naked back.
"Stang!" she hissed as she walked into her office, closing the door behind her. Sometimes she just wanted to strangle that silly girl. Isara was a hopeless gossip, and manipulative to boot. She seemed to think that she was in charge whenever her owner wasn't around, something Beriska was going to break her of.
"Well, this is it, isn't it?" Mika asked from the couch. She pulled out the lightsaber hilt and looked at it sadly.
Beriska opened the safe. "It's still yours, Mika. Once I find you safe passage, it'll go with you. It's safer in here."
"I'm not, though," she muttered, standing up and coming over to the safe.
She put a hand on Mika's shoulder. "I don't think that's really a concern for you," she said quietly, "especially if you've received any kind of training." She had some experience with Force users, and although the lightsaber was their most recognizable weapon, the loss of that weapon made them no less dangerous. She had no doubts that Mika could rip the safe right out of the wall if she really wanted to.
Mika grinned sheepishly as she reached in and placed the hilt in the safe. "No, probably not," she admitted.
She closed and locked the safe. "No beating up Danya or Isara, either, especially now that I know what kind of damage you're capable of. No, don't look at me like you're some innocent with no idea what I'm talking about."
"Um, okay," she laughed.
"I'm serious, Mika." She shivered at the thought of what could've happened earlier tonight. "No calling on the Force."
"Okay, already! I promised I wouldn't, didn't I? Sheesh!"
She nodded. "Yes, you did."
"All right, then."
"You're still in trouble, though. You should know better than to have this," she said, holding up the hold-out blaster.
"But—" she started to protest.
"But, nothing! You know the rules, girl! Now, go eat something while I decide what your punishment should be."
She opened her mouth to continue trying to protest, then closed it and sighed. "I am sorry, Beriska regardless of whatever you decide."
"I know," she said. "That's why I haven't just taken you over my knee, yet."
She gaped.
"Don't think for a moment I won't." she said, trying and failing to suppress a smile. "Now, get out before I change my mind!"
Shaking her head and smirking, Mika left the office.
Sighing, she sat down behind her desk. What was she going to do with that girl? She pulled a datapad out of her desk, along with a bottle of garrmorl and a tumbler glass. Tonight was a night for a stiff drink, and the Wookiee liquor fit the bill nicely. She pressed a button on the console built into one side of her desk and the soft melodic strains of the Imperial Symphony Orchestra filled the office—one of the few good things to come out of the Empire. She dimmed the lights, poured some of the amber liquor into the tumbler, then grabbed her datapad and leaned back in her chair.
"Now, let's see," she said, sipping the drink as she scrolled through her list of contacts on her datapad. There was a Duros named Aldo No who owed her a favor, but he was currently indentured to Gordo the Hutt on Tatooine, a nephew of the Drafulla whom sold her Mika. Gordo was running a small-time operation dealing with medical supplies and illegal procedures like non-standard cybernetics.
Aldo No owed her a favor for hiding him Boba Fett, though had she known why he wanted to lay low in her storage room at the time, she might have tossed him out on his ear. Apparently, No had borrowed money from Gordo to further modify his already over-customized Barloz-class freighter, Cannonball. When he skipped out on the Hutt due to a run-in with Imperials, he continued to send Gordo money—probably the only reason Fett had been ordered to bring him in alive.
So, Aldo No wasn't an option—she wasn't going to put Mika anywhere near a Hutt, especially Gordo or Jabba. She took another sip of the Wookiee liquor, and it burned all the way down, leaving a warmth in her stomach and making her eyes water. She blinked her nictitating membranes a few times and looked at the next possibility.
For the next half hour, she considered a half-dozen contacts, and discarded each possibility. Mika had to be kept safe from the Empire and the Inquisitorius, who she'd heard about but never actually seen. She didn't want to just cast the girl out or turn her over to someone who owed her a favor and who might in turn think to collect the bounty on her.
More and more, though, her mind kept returning to Andano. Part of her argued that at least he acted honorably most of the time, and was dependable. He had other good qualities, too, but he also had a way with women, especially Twi'leks for whatever reason. He was smooth operator with the ladies, known as much for his flings with beautiful women as for his record smuggling a wide variety of goods without ever getting caught.
She could picture him sitting at the bar almost as if it were yesterday, though it had been closer to two years. A tall, skinny human with short, platinum blonde hair, he wore that stupid leather flight jacket with the Galactic Army of the Republic patches on the shoulders. How many times had she warned him to take it off before some irate Imperial saw it? That would be the end of his career, then, for sure.
She hadn't seen him since, though the last she'd heard, he'd wound up in trouble down in the Arkanis sector. Would he be a good match for Mika, though? She didn't want her falling for Andano's boyish charm. It wasn't that she had anything against him, but she knew how he was and knew that he could never settle down. There wasn't a pair of lekku in existence that wouldn't turn his head.
Besides, he had his own problems to deal with when it came to the Empire, which was one of the reasons he couldn't afford to settle down, and Mika was vulnerable despite the tough exterior that she tried to project.
"Stang," she muttered, still no closer to a decision.
The door chimed.
"Come!" she yelled.
Isara came rushing in, clutching her robe to her chest. "We're having a problem with one of the patrons and Danya," she said.
"Danya?" she asked, surprised. For a moment, she thought for sure it was going to be Mika in trouble yet again. "Now, what?"
"A Zabrak is getting all grabby and won't leave Danya alone."
"Oh, stang!" she growled in annoyance, getting up and setting aside the datapad and tumbler.
"Come on, then. Have you alerted Sala?"
"No," she said, following her. "He was outside dealing with someone else."
The bar was packed and the music was loud. Some new jizz-wailing bith band blared out of the jukebox—Figgy Dan and the Modal somethings or some such nonsense. She didn't really care for jizz-wailing. Several members of the crowd were looking towards the middle of the cantina, where a solitary Zabrak dressed in grubby clothes and leather speeder bike jacket say, yelling something to Danya with a leering grin. His eyes were glued to her chest as he made a few clumsy attempts to paw at her. She dodged aside, yelling back at him as she used her empty tray like a shield.
"Sonofa—" Beriska growled, pulling out her comlink. "Sala! Where in blazes are you?"
Danya turned away and spotted Beriska, a relieved smile coming to her face, which quickly turned to a look of horror as the Zabrak, unable to take no for an answer, grabbed Danya around her waist and pulled. She landed square in his lap and began squirming to get away.
Several of the members of the crowd laughed.
"Sala! Get in here, now!" Beriska yelled. "Get out of the way! Move!" She shoved a Rodian out of the way. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mika look over at Danya from the bar where she was eating, and ice formed in her stomach. The girl had a distant, murderous look in her eyes, and her face had lost all expression. "No! Mika, sit down!" she roared over the crowd, leaping over the bar as two Balosars scrambled out of her way. She suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.
"Mika! Stay there!"
Mika either hadn't heard her, or had ignored her. She crouched low and raced around and behind the crowd, circling the Zabrak. A feral growl came from her that drew even more eyes as the crowd realized that there was about to be bloodshed.
"Blast!" she yelled, racing to get to the table first, and realizing with a sinking feeling that she wasn't going to make it.
Danya shot her a pleading glance, then clawed at the Zabrak's face as he groped her breasts.
"Ow, you stupid—" the Zabrak roared over the laughter of the crowd as he pushed Danya into Beriska. He never got to finish his sentence.
He turned just as Mika, resembling a stalking sand panther, launched herself in a flying tackle and impacting the Zabrak's midsection with the sickening crunch of ribs breaking. They flew backwards, overturning the table with a loud crash. Her growl had turned into a lunatic shriek that pierced the din of the cantina, and made Beriska's neck twitch at its intensity.
"Oh, kif!" Beriska yelled, trying to keep Danya from joining in the melee; the Togruta kicked ineffectually at the Zabrak, who was straddled by Mika as she pummeled his face mercilessly.
"Get this crazy schutta off of me!" he roared, trying to cover himself with his arms.
She tossed Danya aside. "Get outta here!" she ordered, then tried grabbing Mika. Where in blazes was Sala? "Mika! Stop it!" she yelled, grabbing her arms, but the girl had wrapped her legs around the Zabrak's midsection and clung to him.
Mika got an arm free and used it to break the Zabrak's nose, sending blood splattering everywhere. "Don't touch the women, you kiffing sleemo!" She got her other hand free, then grabbed the man by his horns and began slamming his head on the ground.
The crowd roared its approval.
"Mika!" Beriska yelled, grabbing the girl around her midsection and pulling with all her strength. Stang, the girl was strong! After a brief struggle, she finally dislodged her and pulled her away, though the girl fought like a wild rancor.
Sala finally appeared, shoving people out of his way. He took one look at the senseless Zabrak struggling feebly to sit up, and grabbed him by his shirt, lifting him easily with one arm.
"Get him out of here," Beriska ordered, then dragged Mika behind the bar.
Mika laughed with a malevolent grin. "Nothing like a good bar brawl against someone so deserving!"
"What? Are you out of your mind?" Beriska asked. "What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that if I keep beating down these abos that eventually, word is going to spread to keep their kiffing hands off the women here," she answered defiantly.
Danya followed them into the office, trying to hide a grin.
"I'll say," Beriska said in exasperation. "Let's hope he doesn't have any friends. You can't keep beating up the clientele, either."
Danya grinned slightly and snuck a sideways glance at Mika, then shrugged at Beriska. "Mika's got a point. The lads are more likely to keep their hands to themselves if they know the women can and will defend themselves."
Beriska rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Get out of here, you two." Andano better not even think about looking at her cross-wise, Beriska sighed to herself after they'd left; I'll neuter him myself if he does.