Jaina hadn't been sure they needed a new locker room next to the apartment's enlarged hangar—a squad-sized changing area complete with gang-shower, a standard Imperial module constructed of smaller standard Imperial modules. The most obvious virtue of the project had been the chance to demolish her ex-husband's weight room, and she was sure there were better things to replace that with. But why, she'd asked, did they need hangar facilities that could accommodate up to twenty sweaty Imperials at once?
So we can invite the Moffs round via shuttle and have an orgy, Tahiri answered, which had won the argument, even if Jaina wasn't sure that was exactly a realistic option. So far, they'd simply used the space for changing in and out of their flight gear, and occasionally having shower sex afterwards.
Jaina glanced into the shower. The handcuffs were still hanging where they'd left them last time, shiny like they belonged there in amongst the nozzle fittings. She shook her head, and pulled her flight boots on.
"Should one of us salute?" Tahiri smiled, as they stood up and fastened up their cockpit uniforms again.
Today, they were wearing the simple black flight jumpsuits without any insignia of rank, or anything as useful as code-key cylinders in the shoulder pockets or discreet high-heels on the boots, let alone the distinctive helmets and harnesses of Imperial Pilots. The unisex cut of the uniform was still surprisingly flattering on a well-toned female body, but there was a definite authority to Tahiri's taller and more muscular physique—and Jaina had completed the effect by agreeing to have her own hair done up in a regulation braid, reducing herself to the image of an anonymous Flight School cadet.
She was feeling very conscious of the way that the meaning of the uniform was changed completely simply by accessorising the jumpsuit slightly differently. That felt very Imperial. That made her feel very Imperial, too.
"I'm training as a shuttle pilot, today," she shrugged, pulling on the uniform cap, and standing up, saluting in the Imperial style, heels clicked together, back straight, head essaying a bow. "And you're the Grand Moff's bodyguard. Just pretend I'm one of the usual washouts from TIE Pilot enlistment. No special privileges."
"Just because I'm Moff Sacker's ex-girlfriend, doesn't mean I like to domme cadets," Tahiri grinned. "Besides, if you want someone who's a trained Academy instructor, why not Tagge?"
"I don't think he did Flight School," Jaina answered, falling in step behind her.
"Gunnery's part of Flight Branch, right?" Tahiri reminded her. "That's why he's a General, not an Admiral. I thought you were supposed to be the Imperial Military fangirl in this relationship."
Jaina didn't answer. She stayed silent, and a step behind, as the two of them walked down the wide access corridor towards the blast doors of the Imperial apartment's enlarged hangar bay.
"So, why are we doing this?" Tahiri asked cheerfully, keying a security pass into the door plate.
"Moff didn't say," Jaina shrugged. She'd wondered if she should have asked, but she'd agreed in advance to a list of vehicle-piloting skills they thought she needed—everything from Preybirds to AT-ATs to infiltration pods. Apparently this sort of familiarization requirement was standard practice for Imperial high commanders, though the list they'd put together her was somewhat idiosyncratic. She had decided that going along with the instruction and seeing if anything else was being added to the list would be more interesting, more informative. She kept expecting that she was about to be manoeuvred into the cockpit of a TIE. "Should I be worried that I'm supposed to be in charge?"
Tahiri pursed her lips. Jaina wondered if she was wondering which of the three Moffs had ordered this, and what that would imply, or if she was pondering Jaina's submissive acceptance, and wondering if she should be worried by that. "I think your submissive streak's an asset for the head of state," she said, navigating her words carefully. "You don't play favourites, and you use your loyalty to the Empire as a whole to stand up for everyone. You're also very cute in bed."
Loyalty to the Empire as a whole? Jaina wondered. When had that happened? "Since when did you become my domme?"
"Just doing my duty for the Empire, ma'am."
Then they were through the open hatch, in the hangar—there was a space at the back where TIEs would normally be racked above the deck, and the two new PreyBirds and their simulators were parked off on one side, the slot where her X-wing had once sat left empty—but the latest arrival was the compact fuselage of an Imperial Shuttle, with a blank plate on the cockpit module in place of a viewshield, a simulator retrofitted from an old spaceframe.
Tahiri gave a small frown, as her eyes studied the small plaques of equipment on the outside of the plate, controlling what was essentially a holographic visor locked over the whole front of the cockpit.
"You okay?" Jaina asked, giving her a thoughtful look.
"Yeah," Tahiri affirmed, nodding. "Best we both pretend to just be good recruits," she said, hesitating over something—as if a part of her was fighting an odd urge to acknowledge Jaina's rank.
"Okay," Jaina said, looking up at the shuttle. "Let's see how good we are at being mediocre barge pilots."
"And afterwards we can have sex and work out if this shuttle-training program is designed to do any more than subtly humiliate you, Grand Moff?" Tahiri suggested.
"Yeah, that," Jaina nodded, as the ramp lowered, and they walked aboard.