Chapter Thirteen: The Tale That Was Almost Told Earlier

As per usual, Thane woke up to an otherwise unoccupied bed and he began to wonder where his reputation for being a womanizer came from. He hadn't reaped in any of the benefit the Conclave women had to offer when he was there and he wasn't sure if he would get the chance any time soon considering his company.

But a cold bed was not what woke the big Jedi in a sweat. It had been the dream about another land clam, this one deep in some cave. More specifically, it had been the monster that was trying to kill him while he was downloading information into his iPhone that had woken him. To say the least, it hadn't been a pleasant dream. In fact, it had been a very unpleasant dream. Thane rolled over with a grunt and was halfway to the refresher when someone knocked on his door. It was Brazilla.

"Are you still sleeping?" she asked, giving him the once over. Thane glanced down to make sure he was actually wearing something. Trousers. Check. Still, Brazilla's lips pursed as her eyes lingered on his glistening skin.

"Yes."

Brazilla lifted her brow. Thane grinned.

"Is there something I can help you with this morning, sweetheart? I haven't made my bed yet." He glanced over his shoulder towards said furniture and, upon turning back, caught Brazilla's curious glance into his room. She turned red.

"I'm here to take you…"

"Oh?"

"…to talk to the Masters. They contacted us a few minutes ago."

Thane's disappointment was exaggerated as he put his forearm on the door jamb and leaned a little closer to the woman. Brazilla just shook her head and put her hands on her narrow waist. They were rather close—closer than they had been on Cash—and Thane could smell her shampoo. It was intoxicating, though he would never admit to using the word.

"Have I been bad?" he asked, his voice low.

Not catching on, Brazilla just shook her head. "Rather good, actually. They want to congratulate you, I believe, mostly about Cash but also for getting Erika back on the path to the Light Side. She answered their call."

"She was being rather naughty back on Dannon, wasn't she? Going off and disobeying the Masters like that? Tsk tsk."

"What?" Brazilla said. She took in Thane's reclined posture and the little smile hidden in the corner of his mouth and frowned. "I think you had better get dressed. They're pleased with you but have other more critical things to attend to."

Thane straightened. "You sure you don't need anything else?"

"I'm good, thanks. Now hurry up." Not following her own advice, Brazilla lingered where she stood, as if absorbing Thane's heat in the otherwise cold ship. She took in a deep breath, delighting in the sweet tang of his sweat and Thane wanted nothing more than to grab her and give her a good kissing, but found the power to restrain himself. He wasn't sure where it came from, but one glance at the dented durasteel doorframe gave a good idea where it went once Brazilla finally turned around to leave.

--

It took Thane a little longer than normal to get ready after his encounter with Brazilla and by the time he was ready to leave, he had another visitor. Assuming it was Brazilla coming back to reprimand him for keeping the Masters, he was reasonably surprised when it wasn't her voice or her face.

"God morgen, Thane," Erika said as his door swooshed to the side. She was cradling one of the kittens that had mysteriously found their way onto the ship on Cash, this one white and fluffy. It mewled and blinked at Thane with its big blue eyes. "Hvorden gå det?"

"Gibberish, honey," Thane said. He wanted that kitten. "But I'm doing well enough. You?"

It had taken a couple of days, but Thane eventually caught on to this particular line of Erika's language. Still, whenever she started in on the unfamiliar tongue, Thane gently reminded her that very few people understood what she was saying.

"Ah, det gå godt. Det var meget koldt i nat hvor jeg soverede men min morgenmad var varm så…" she replied. "Wait. Sorry. My master was also a Viking. I'm not used to speaking Basic."

"But you said you grew up in the Conclave," he said as they walked towards the common room, eyeing the kitten. Erika shrugged.

"I was gone for a lot of years and just recently went back for my Trials. I'm still not quite a Knight." She shook her head, throwing her blonde frizz and curls into a frenzy. Inside the protective hull of the ship, she had shed her jacket and was wearing instead an electric blue shrug over a closefitting black outfit. The studded belt slung low on her hips was decorated with a large silver belt buckle of two clasping skeletal hands and held the black hilt of her lightsaber.

"I see," Thane said. "Say, do you know anything about what the Masters want to talk about?"

Erika shook her head again. This time the kitten went after the curls, catching them with his little paws. Thane scooped it out of her arms. "You can ask them yourself."

She pointed at the projection of the four Dannon Masters before trying to take the kitten back. Thane was faster.

Each Master looked the Jedi version of upset, which would rank somewhere below mildly annoyed on a normal scale of sentient being emotions. But Thane wasn't worried. He could talk his way out of any situation. And if not, well…Thane didn't actually know. Something deep inside told him there had once been terrible consequences for his will not being carried forth, but he couldn't imagine what they might have entailed. Maybe the withholding of certain pleasures.

Chuckling to himself while imagining such a scene, Thane put his best swagger in his step and went over to the rather expensive overhead projector. They lovingly referred to it as the pork barrel.

"Hey there, miniature Masters," Thane said. He put the kitten down and watched as it began to swat at the blue holograms.

"It's nice of you to join us," said Nixon. "We were starting to wonder how long it would take you." Apparently, they didn't notice the kitten playing with their likenesses.

"I had to make sure I looked my best for you four," Thane replied. He ran a hand through his roguishly long hair and flashed them a shining example from his repertoire of brilliant smiles. "I couldn't imagine facing you mighty mouse Masters still disheveled from my nightly activities."

The projections of the Masters looked at each other a split second after the real ones did back on Dannon. Czar spoke first. "At least you haven't completely lost your sense of decorum, though subtly seems to have gone for want."

Thane furrowed his brow and rapped his fingers on the edge of the projector. The kitten came running, looking to play. "Why does everyone keep talking about me like I used to be some Jedi? Conclave women mentioned it; Erika and Brazilla here keep saying it, you guys, not to mention this crazy tattoo." He showed them his forearm with the words and lightsaber and all.

The Masters frowned as one.

"I'm sure," Adoy began slowly, "that everyone is referring to your former life as a prosthetics smuggler."

"No, no, some of it sounds convincingly Jedi-like, though I can't imagine why people think I used to be one of you guys. There must be some other fiendishly handsome man out there masquerading around as Shane Dunefinder, Usurper of Sloppy Seconds or some other nonsense."

Erika laughed rather loudly behind him, as did Gizmo. He turned a smile on them. Even Brazilla seemed mildly amused. The Masters, however, did not.

"…" went the Task Master.

"What's your next infiltration?" Nixon asked.

"Well, if there's a bright spot in the galaxy, we're traveling to the planet it's furthest from."

"Taboo, then," Czar said with a nod.

"Yessir," Thane replied. "Land of Java, Dust Devils, and spaghetti westerns."

"Very good," Adoy said. "I don't believe you'll find your task terribly difficult."

"It hasn't been so far." Thane stroked the little kitten, who arched its back into his hand and began to purr something like a lawn mower. "Anything else?"

"Nothing at all," Nixon said. "Bye."

When they disappeared, Thane scooped up the little kitten and scratched it behind its ears. The women swooned at the sight of the big man with the tiny ball of white fur he had obviously bonded with. Brazilla nor Erika remembered their conversation on Cash.

"I think," Thane started, "I think I will name him Han."

Erika gave him a look. "Han?"

"Yeah. A good strong name for a solitary rascal."

"Well, okay," Erika said. "You just named him 'he' in my language."

"Pssh." Thane gave her a dismissive wave. "Maybe one day he'll take over the galaxy and when people refer to 'Him' there'll be no mistaking who they mean."

"Right."

Brazilla, who had only been listening, frowned and continued to say nothing, afraid of what might come out of her mouth. Thane had already endeared himself to her and this whole kitten thing was making him even more…precious in her eyes.

"Hey, it could happen," Thane continued. "I figure that until you're dead, you're capable of doing damn near anything you put your mind to. The clever among us might even figure out how to do stuff after death, too."

"That's preposterous," Brazilla said.

"Hauntings, my dear. Those are the sharp ones."

"I don't believe in ghosts."

Thane smiled and continued to pet the now sleeping kitten in the crook of his arm. "When I die you'll be the first person I haunt. I'll be sure to come in the middle of the night and gently wake you up before scaring the living crap out of you."

"That sounds…"

"Pleasant?"

Brazilla's frown deepened to hide the blush making its way up her neck. "I was going to say ridiculous."

Neither noticed that the common room was suddenly devoid of other people; only a few sleepy kittens remained. They were probably the only creatures in the ship that had no problem with the swamp-like atmosphere that suddenly rose between the two Jedi. Brazilla shifted from one foot to the other and back again.

"I…" she said, without getting the chance to continue when Thane crossed the room and grabbed her by the arm. Still holding little Han, he kissed her like he had kissed no other woman he could remember and was surprised when her lips opened to his. The moment, however, was broken by Garth.

"We're about to drop," he said.

Thane ignored him but Brazilla, as if suddenly realizing what was going on, put her hands on Thane's chest and pushed.

"We…ah…you," she tried to say as she went about straightening out her clothing, which didn't actually need it. Thane hadn't gotten very far. He chuckled and leaned back to look down the corridor that led to the cockpit.

"Hey, Garth!" he called. "Were you watching us?"

"What?" the pilot yelled back. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing, never mind."

"But in case you hadn't noticed, I put up a new sign in there," Garth went on to say. "Over by the kitchenette."

Thane and Brazilla turned that way to see another of Garth's impeccable hand-written signs: No Lusting in the Common Room.

"I don't know if I would call that lusting," Thane said out of the side of his mouth to Brazilla.

"Call what lusting?"

"Ah-hah, funny."

But Brazilla just walked away leaving Thane high and dry with the kittens. He muttered something under his breath and went to join Garth in the cockpit.

--

Where Cash and Dannon had been practically overwrought with life, Taboo was the polar opposite. Sure there was life down there in the sand, but how it managed to survive was something Thane wondered at very briefly. He then realized that he didn't particularly care and sat back in the co-pilot's seat, his feet up on the console.

"I would appreciate you not putting your feet there," Carth said.

"Okay." But Thane didn't move. He just continued to watch their slow descent towards the dunes, the sand, and the large city known as Balnchaine.

A/N: Oh, and there were Star Wars and prez. campaign references in here. And little Han is based on Real Life cat Hank (Thaddeus Venture) who is an absolute nut job and the most handsome damn cat I've ever seen (we think he's purebred American Bobtail but was put in the pound because of his weirdly crooked tail that's about twice as long as it should have been but just as fat thanks to his double-z shaped tailbone…).

Okay, translations:

God morgen, Thane. Hvorden gå det? – Good morning. How's it going?

Det gå godt. Det var meget koldt i nat hvor jeg soverede men min morgenmad var varm så…" – I'm good. It was cold last night when I sleeping but my breakfast was warm so…"