Disclaimer: I make no money, and I only write about what I enjoy. Crimson Squad, Cerina Browlin, Reone, Gan Pohin, and the opening segment quotes are mine. Arlington Zey and Bardan Jusik belong to Karen Traviss. George Lucas owns everything else.

Segment 2

I know the Kaminoans told you to think of the female gender as men but with different anatomy. Keep in mind that women are not as simple as the aiwha-bait wants you to believe. Don't be afraid of females, but don't underestimate them either. You may come across some in your experiences who are genuine and you may come across others who will hustle you out of your Deece and your armor. The safest way to handle them is to think with your brain, not your head.
Training Sergeant, Gan Pohin, in discussion with his men after a question posed about how to handle females during missions

The City of Sha'ye on the Planet Denon
687 Days ABG

Glancing quickly around the restaurant, Dusty had the basic layout of the floor memorized. There was a circular-shaped bar in the center of the facility lightly occupied with members of different species. The tables around the bar were mostly empty, a sign that the timeframe known as "happy hour" had ended. Private booths were outside the bar area, planted against the walls. They were heavily occupied, indicating that the time for meal socializing had begun, and the time for alcohol socializing was winding down.

In the brief seconds that Dusty viewed the restaurant layout, he also noticed that every one of the different species carried a sophisticated air about them. No one exhibited any sense of being hard-luck or downtrodden, and it was likely that such lower-classed clientele would never have been permitted past the entrance doors. The Heart of Sha'ye had a reputation to uphold for the more wealthy members of society, and it was fairly obvious that only those in such a tax bracket were the ones taking part in enjoying the beverages and dishes the restaurant offered.

Walking up to the host of the restaurant, Dusty remembered that in this kind of upscale establishment, the host would actually be referred to with the extravagant title of maître d'hôtel. It was the useless fact Dusty needed in order to force aside the thoughts of his possible imminent death and how his brothers in Crimson would be free from his need to break and bend rules. Clearing his mind into the role he now had to play, Dusty had internally morphed himself into the kind of person he believed Elig Munot would be.

Executing a charming smile, he thought of the charismatic hero he saw in a recent holofilm and did his best to imitate that character. He realized that he didn't know much about civvies, but he certainly had enough practice with observing them long enough to follow basic body language.

"May I help you?" the maître d'hôtel asked. He was quite a rotund man and as he spoke, his red cheeks seemed to grow redder with every word he exhaled. He looked like he was about to suffer from cardiac arrest at any moment, and the expensive, black jacket he wore seemed almost too tight for his body mass. The maître d'hôtel's balding head was littered with long, dark strands that he had desperately tried to brush over his scalp to hide the missing hair, and Dusty had vowed right then that he would shave his head hairless when he started balding instead of uselessly trying to hide it like this man was.

Forcing himself not to dwell on the strangeness of civilians and their vanity, Dusty reminded himself of the mission and spoke the first line in his script. "The private table of Cerina Browlin."

Looking up from the datapad of bookings, the rotund man gave a skeptical glare at Dusty and took a moment to detail him from head to toe. "You've never been here before, and Cerina requested she be alone this evening."

Dusty leaned over the maître d'hôtel's podium and feigned looking for a list of some kind. The list he found didn't contain his false name, but he did see the full layout of the restaurant on the datapad the maître d'hôtel had before him. Sticking to the script, Dusty explained, "Surely you must be mistaken. She gave me her personal invite. Tell her that Elig Munot is awaiting her presence."

In the short couple seconds that Dusty had to view the datapad of the maître d'hôtel, he memorized the layout of the restaurant from the datapad and had three escape routes already in motion should he need them.

"Reone!" a woman's voice suddenly called.

The rotund man spun like he had been slapped. "Madam, this…supposed Elig Munot insists that you had invited him to your dinner."

The woman approached closer, and Dusty could smell her perfume, something that resembled to him the scent of sweet flowers and berries. Bringing his eyes to her, he was taken aback by her shapely figure and the way the tightly fitted red dress had stayed on her shoulders simply by its thin straps. The skirt of the dress reached down to her shins, and the heeled but revealing shoes she wore hid nothing of her remarkably cared-for feet. Around her neck was a string of rubies twisted in a silver chain that held tight against her skin, and an additional small string hung down from the choker and dipped low toward her symmetrically rounded bosom. Dusty swallowed hard and forced his eyes up to her face, fighting the burning on his cheeks, hoping that no one else noticed it. He studied her face now, trying to determine if the brown of her eyes was genuine or a set of contacts like he wore. Her skin was light in color, seeming to be smooth, even with the small scattering of pale tan freckles that touched over her cheeks and nose. Her long, red-orange hair was twisted up in a loose bun on her head, and a handful of the wavy strands were left free as they trailed down her back and collarbone. As Dusty traced those locks with his eyes, he caught himself trapped again by the firm roundness of her womanly features.

"Reone," the woman sighed now. "Why do you insist on making a commotion every time I bring a date? Are you that jealous?"

The rotund man seemed to be stammering now. "Madam, I'm just trying to protect your interests…"

The woman closed her eyes and seemed to take a breath to calm down. When she opened them, she reached over toward the maître d'hôtel's datapad and pointed toward something, her finger tapping a key to bring up a personalized message screen. "I left you his name on the list."

Dusty glanced quickly down to the datapad and saw his false name showing now on a screen that was different than what the maître d'hôtel had used to read through the reservations. Either the man didn't know how to access that screen or he was feigning his stupidity because he was working with this woman and was part of the test to confirm her contact.

"My humblest of apologies, Madam Cerina," the man blurted, tapping more keys on the datapad. Then he looked to Dusty. "Master Elig, please forgive me."

Dusty nodded, remembering his last line in the pre-conceived script he was given. He flipped a Republic credit into Reone's hand as he told him, "Don't charge me for my meal, and we'll call it even."

At that, the woman linked her arm through Dusty's elbow. "I have a private booth where we can get better acquainted."

Cerina led him to a small booth in a far corner of the main restaurant floor, and as they sat at the table, Dusty studied the woman closely, not completely certain why this Cerina Browlin chose to have a meeting of such vital importance within the confines of an occupied restaurant. It was far too risky, and he didn't like the idea at all of being ambushed. Continuing to watch her as she slowly reviewed the menu on the datapad, he was aware that she seemed to be casually deciding whether she wanted the braised nerf or the bahmat steak.

"Madam Cerina," he said, wanting to get this information exchange over with so that he could get back to his brothers, "I believe you have something of importance for me."

Cerina laughed lightly and brought her eyes up from the menu. "Why the rush? You managed to get yourself a free meal, and you might as well make the best of it."

"Because…"

Closing down the menu and placing it off to the side of the table she then leaned forward and Dusty felt all of his concerns fall away as he saw the way her dress held tightly against her skin, and he suddenly feared that the straps on her dress would tear free. Swallowing hard, he realized that he wasn't sure who would be more embarrassed if that should happen, and she certainly didn't seem to notice the strain on the fabric.

"When was the last time you enjoyed, truly enjoyed, a meal anyway?" Cerina asked, taking advantage of his pause, "And, can you honestly tell me if you've ever been on a date before?"

Shaking his head to clear away whatever temptations this woman was trying to throw at him, Dusty leaned on the table in annoyance. He lowered his voice to a slight whisper so as not to arouse any suspicions of the patrons around them. "Look I'm just here for the intel that's been rumored you may have. I'll be out of your hair as soon as you give me what we need to get the job done."

Cerina narrowed her eyes, studying this soldier closely. Then, she smiled as though she was about to laugh. "I make you uncomfortable."

"Ma'am," Dusty said, biting down on his momentary slip of his training when addressing a lady, "getting pelted with shrapnel from explosions is uncomfortable. You're just being obstinate, and it's trying my patience."

"For that, you're now going to have to wait for dessert," she threatened, her voice teasing.

Dusty lowered his voice even further. "Do you even care that people are dying with every moment you waste withholding information?"

Her brown eyes flashed with anger, but she kept herself in check. Even though she spoke quietly, the edge was strong in her words. "And, is it a waste to spend one evening with a clone soldier and offer him a moment of normalcy? I know that you've been shut off from the galaxy for years, training from the day you could stand on your own. I know you have a shorted life span, and I'm certain the majority of you will never have a chance to meet a girl and even less of a chance to kiss one. I personally have no concern on who wins the war, but none of you deserve to be treated like caged nerf just awaiting your slaughter. Therefore, I think the galaxy can wait a couple hours for one soldier, one man, to enjoy a decent meal with a lady and have the experience of a date."

Dusty picked up the menu in front of him almost reluctantly and began perusing the different dishes. He decided at this point to just play along. After all, he was going to receive a free meal and that was something. "So how do you know so much about clones?"

Her smile returned and she took her menu as well. "A lady is entitled to her secrets."