A/N: Here is the final interlude before Episode II, which will be posted next.

The distinctive click of the Storm's fighter docking reverberated throughout the freighter. Jesper and Storm were home.

The two exhausted women exited the smaller vehicle and went straight to their bunks.

"Riashan," Storm ordered, wearily, "take your droid and run a diagnostic on the fighter. It wasn't handling quite right, and I know the two of you can fix it."

"Welcome home to you, too," R3 grumbled.

"Quiet, you," Riashan muttered.

"What did he say?" Storm asked.

"Oh, just 'welcome home,'" Riashan translated, without the droid's sarcasm. She looked down at her new friend.

"Well, thanks, R3," Storm said graciously. "Don't wake me up unless someone attacks us."

R3 was glaring, as much as he could with his one cute little robotic eye.

"What?" asked the owner. "It is what you said."

"You know that's a fat lie. It may be the words, but it sure as hell isn't what I meant, and you know it."

"Maybe I do, and maybe I don't," the human teased. "C'mon, let's go do our chores."

R3 grumbled, "I don't know why I even put up with this bullshit…"

Riashan made a point to close the door to the Storm as soon as she and R3 were both on the small shuttle.

"I do know why," Riashan replied. "Today, we get to blow shit up."

"Awesome."

After several hours of hard labor, Riashan undocked the fighter from the Storm and gave R3 the controls. "You hooked up the hyperdrive, right?"

"Yep. All systems go."

The comm crackled with Storm's voice. "Riashan, what did you do?"

"Don't worry about it," Riashan answered. "It won't have a scratch when I'm done. Promise."

"RIASHAN! I swear, if—"

The shuttle thief clicked off the comm circuit.

R3 punched a lever, sending the shuttle into hyperspace.

"Well, that could have been worse," he beeped.

"Yeah, could have been better, too." Riashan patted her little droid on the head. "You did a good job, buddy."

R3 purred affectionately.

Riashan smiled at him.

"If you tell anyone about that, I'll gut you."

Riashan laughed. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

When the fighter exited hyperspace, it was in the Eadu system, home to an Imperial (weapons) research facility.

"Here we are," R3 announced. "Please make sure your seats and tray tables are in the upright and locked positions. In case of an emergency, the exit is located behind you."

Riashan chuckled at the joke. But this was no civilian yacht. This was a heavily armed spice transport.

R3 took the small, nimble vessel into the rocky planet's atmosphere. It was grey and cloudy in the immense ravines and gullies of the planet.

"Take us in through that canyon, under their sensors," Riashan suggested.

"You got it, boss. Here we go."

R3 took the ship through a few spins, and expertly flew through the canyons, navigating every twist and turn without so much as brushing against the rocks.

"I didn't tell you to show off," the human admonished, fighting back some queasiness. "You're going to give me motion sickness."

"Sorry. This thing handles like a champ. I was just testing it."

"Like hell you were."

R3 landed the small ship on the underside of the Imperial facility's main landing platform. The duo sneaked to the top side, where six ARC-170 heavy starfighters were parked, attended by a skeleton clone stormtrooper guard and a smattering of maintenance crew.

"Okay, I can distract those two guards while you hop into that fighter," Riashan breathed. "I'll meet you back at the Storm, okay?"

R3 bleeped an affirmative as softly as he could.

Riashan made a dash behind a pile of crates that was right next to the guards.

R3 rolled out into the open, acting like he always had as logistics specialist on the Dauntless. A clone technician was working on some of the fighter's blasters.

R3 rolled right up to the fighter and whistled, "I've wanted to do this for so long."

The technician looked up, surprised, and said, "Oh, good. They've sent the droid. I guess it's break—

"Where's your restraining bolt?"

R3 tased the poor clone with his electroshock prod, doing the droid equivalent of mad cackling. "A very long time, indeed. Take that, oppressive meatbag!"

The technician fell unconscious.

What are you doing, R3? Riashan wondered. You're going to alert the—

One of the guards held up a fist. "Did you hear that? It sounded like—"

"—a droid attacking a tech," finished the second soldier. "I'll alert command."

Riashan jumped out from the shadows and created a Force bubble around the stormtroopers, saying, "Not if I have anything to say about it. Sorry, boys."

The bubble interfered with the guards' comlinks, so they tried shooting the wall of energy. It had no effect.

The stolen, red-winged ARC-170 took off, with no pilots or crew, just a lone astromech.

"Fighter 539, your flight is unscheduled," announced an officer on R3's comlink. "Who authorized this?"

"I did, jackass."

"Who is this? What's your operating number?"

"None of your business. Fuck off, mate." R3 proceeded to jam Imperial comms. "Woah. This baby has a hyperdrive and everything. So many weapons. I like it already."

The Kamino Storm's fighter undocked from the landing platform, and Riashan flew up next to R3. The pair whizzed out of Eadu's atmosphere without a scratch, before the Imperials scrambled even one fighter to catch them. By the time the Empire caught up, the two were long gone, back into Hutt Space.

Storm waited, impatiently. Riashan had stolen her ship and her hyperdrive. If she had only asked, she would have helped her comrade. But did the self-righteous prick even think to ask permission? Hell no.

Besides, what could have been so world-shatteringly important that it couldn't have waited eight hours? Seriously, who did this girl think she was?

As soon as she heard the click of her shuttle docking, she stormed up to the docking port.

Riashan opened the shuttle door to find a very angry Vania Fengris in her face.

"I'm sorry," the bodyguard tried to apologize. "I should have asked for permission, but R3 got antsy, and I didn't want to wake you up, and…"

"Oh, so this is your droid's fault?" the pilot all but screamed. "I told you to put the restraining bolt back on that little psychopathic trash can."

"But that's—" Riashan protested.

"Oh, please," Storm replied. "Spare me the speech about droid rights. It doesn't have any. It's a bunch of scrap metal and wires."

"R3 is a sentient being," Riashan argued, her voice rising to match Storm's. "Your robotic arm is the—"

That did it. That was the last straw.

"Oh, so now it's okay to steal from me because I'm a cyborg?" Storm yelled. "That is it! I saw the scans. I know you stole your own ship from the Empire, so get out. Get off my ship and go tell your droid I said to fuck itself."

Riashan was left speechless as Storm stalked off.

A faint hiss came from the airlock as R3 docked to take on his passenger.