A/N: Yes, this is the end

Repulsors venting off steam, the Dustman settled on the landing pad. The Corellian sector of Nar Shaddaa was as crowded and as busy as ever. Imril started the post-flight check, ignoring the staticky mutterings of Hakky. The assassin droid was still moaning over the loss of the Nebula gas and complaining that the credits could have at least bought him a lubricant bath. Fresh in his mind, the look of utter astonishment on Celia's face came to him once again. The memory would be another fond one in his collection.

"Why did you do it?!" she demanded, her green eyes incredulous. It was five minutes after the Dustman escaped. There had been no interruption of the silence that the two shared after the ordeal. Imril, surprised at his own actions as much as Celia, avoided her gaze. The loss of the adaptable slave circuit didn't bother him that much; Hakky had the plans inside his head somewhere.

"Why did you do it?" Celia repeated, more quietly. "You could have turned me over. You said as much. You could have got off scot-free, with thirty-five thousand credits and your shipment of Nebula gas."

"Katira."

It was all he said, but understanding hit her like a blaster bolt. The simple answer was enough. From his silence, it seemed as though he wished to be alone and Celia decided to respect his unspoken wish, staying in the cargo hold for the remainder of their journey to Nar Shaddaa.

Finishing his check, he leaned back in the chair and stretched. Yawning, he got up and slouched over to the ladder and climbed down. The boarding ramp was already extended and Imril strolled down it. Celia was looking up at the tail of the Dustman with some concern. The collision with the robo barge left a long scratch upon it. Imril stood next to her and looked at it, scratching his beard with a lazy finger.

"Looks like that's going to take some paint," commented Celia, looking up at him.

"Guess so." Imril reached a long arm up and ran his hand over the dent. Abruptly, he turned to her. "Celia…"

Her green eyes stared softly up into his. Losing his nerve, the pirate coughed and looked away. "What will you do now?" he asked hastily.

"I don't really know. I thought about heading down into the shadier parts and offering my services as a navigator on a smuggler freighter or something," replied Celia, looking away. She sighed, running a hand over her red hair. "I suppose I should dye my hair and cut it shorter. Might make it less easy for Boba Fett to come gunning for me." Tentatively, she looked at him again. "The Dustman doesn't need a navigator, right?"

"No," blurted Imril, a little too quickly. He was really avoiding her gaze now, seemingly interested in a pair of Rodians arguing with a Duros over the proper handling of a shipping crate across the bay. Nevertheless, he realized he had been rude and scrambled to explain himself. "Uh, Hakky usually does that sort of thing."

"Oh." Her reply was matter-of-fact. "Then, I guess this is good-bye."

"Guess so," Imril said again, dragging his eyes around to meet her gaze again.

Celia searched his face for that strange look but was disappointed by its absence. Still, she managed a smile and moved closer, standing on her toes and planting a kiss on his cheek. Momentarily frozen, Imril recovered and gave her a hug, squeezing her small frame gently. They broke apart and Celia turned away, slinging her rucksack over her shoulder and walking to the exit of the bay. Behind her, Imril looked down at his fingers in satisfaction. Once again, they had not failed him, planting the three hundred credit chip into the pocket of her tunic without her noticing. He looked up again just in time to see her turn and wave. Then, she was gone.

There was squeaking behind him and Hakky's voice intruded into Imril's thoughts. "Advisement: Now, master, you know that love to me has always been staring down the scope of a Merrsonn missile launcher at an enemy bunker and I know that this might not be how an meatbag would define it, but…"

"Good. Keep it that way," snapped Imril, eyes still on the crowd into which she faded. What is this strange feeling? At first, I looked at her and I saw Katira. I wanted to protect her, hoping that it would somehow make up for when I wasn't there for Katira. But now…I see her as Celia. She seems strong, yet so vulnerable. I want to see her again. I don't want her to go. What was the point of saving her if I'll never see her again? "Hakky," he said aloud, rubbing his temples gently. "I shall be going to see a man about a late Nebula gas shipment after which I shall be getting quietly drunk." With that, he left Hakky standing by the ship, the droid contemplating humans and the happy fact that he was not among them.

True to his word, ten minutes after he stormed out of the major-domo's office, Imril was in a small tavern, sipping his third Corellian ale. He disconsolately stared into the mug, his chin in his hand, wondering why he even bothered dealing with Hutts anyway. Sighing, he closed his eyes.

He heard someone slide onto the barstool next to him and didn't bother opening his eyes. "You," he said, jerking his thumb in their general direction. "Don't ever deal with Hutts. Every time someone tries to suck up to them and offer to invent something for them, that same stupid nerf-herder has to go and insult the slugs at some point and get himself executed. The thing with this is that the other people who run everywhere fetching everything for the madcap scheme don't get paid because of it. It's totally inconsiderate." He took a swig from his mug and winced as the smooth liquid flamed his throat sweetly. "Atop that, the nerf-herders aren't the only ones stupid. The errand boys have to go and say the wrong thing accidentally and drive off any interesting, exotic ladies they meet on the way."

Whoever it was sighed and asked, "Do you ever think you'll need a human navigator for your ship?"

Relief, sweet relief, burst in the pirate's mind and he fought to keep his face straight. "Not at the moment." He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to meet the other's gaze. "But in five minutes, I'm going to be deleting a certain droid's astrogation programs from his memory core. Then, I shall be in desperate need of one."

Celia's viridian eyes sparkled, a grin on her face, her pony-tail flaming red against her green tunic. To Imril, there could be no one in the galaxy more beautiful than she. He returned her smile, reaching out and stroking her cheek gently, moving his hand farther to touch her fiery hair. Then, right in front of the bemused bartender, the pirate leaned forward and kissed her tenderly on her mouth, his passion stealing her breath away.

It was the first time the bartender had seen Imril leave a glass half-empty.

A/N: This Inunotaisho would very much like a review or he won't leave you his swords.