Can you tell I'm faking it?

But I want to be myself

A counterfeit disposition

Can't be good for my health

So many different faces

Depending on the different phases

My personality changes

I'm a chameleon

There's more then one dimension

I can fool you and attract attention

Camouflage my nature

Let me demonstrate

Makeup's all off

Who am I?

Haar'chak! Physical therapy was kicking her shebs worse than any limmie training session ever had. Of course back then she had already been in shape from a lifetime of playing the beautiful game. Now she was restarting from scratch.

She almost wished she hadn't given those bacta patches to Tech and the rest of the Batch. But she'd been told that relying on the painkillers could actually slow down her progress. They were meant for healing injuries after all, not rebuilding muscle tissue that had atrophied after being stuck in a chair for over a year.

No, Genna's road to recovery was going to be hard work and she was committed to the journey. Some day she'd be able to run to her husband and jump into his arms.

Her chair was packed away into storage, hopefully forever, and the boys would more than likely find plenty of use for the medical aid she had been able to supply them with. That osik was expensive and despite the ring she had been given as a gift from their employer, she thought they probably didn't have the credits to spare without the support of the Grand Army of the Republic that was no more.

She wondered how it was possible that they got away with as few bumps and bruises as they seemed to acquire on their 'missions'. And she prayed to whatever gods might be listening, not that Manda or Unifras had ever done anything for her, that the members of clone force ninety-nine might be safe during this time of enforced double zero.

Shara Blackwell had asked if she wanted to attend Salt Gods' services with the family while she was staying with them but Genna had said no thanks. She was glad of their hospitality but she drew the line at being swept up into their religion.

Shara was a curiosity to Genna. Having been brought up in the city of Iziz in the same house and orchard and marketplace, she had come to the north after her father died and made a home here in the islands of the great northern sea. But then Shara had taken naturally to the life of ships and sailing and Genna had been prone to seasickness since childhood.

Shara had also found love in the north. She got married, had a bunch of kids, took over raising her niece and nephews when their mother died in a shipwreck, and as Genna had been told, tended to take in any other strays who wandered over her doorstep of whom Genna was only the most recent.

Genna would never be able to repay her even though Shara's niece, Dalla Blackwell, the Mollymauk, had told her that no payment would be necessary.

Right now she just wanted to make it back to the room they had supplied her with and relax after the haran that her therapist aka torturer had put her through. Maybe she would take them up on the idea of a visit to the hot springs that their island was known for.

Just then however a noise coming from her room threw all other thoughts from her mind. It was the rattling of transpariplast bottles and the high sweet laughter of one who could only be Shara's youngest child and only daughter of the bunch.

"Kriff!" Genna put on a burst of speed that she didn't know she possessed after the morning's workout to get to the little girl.

It wasn't the cosmetics she was so much worried about although those supplies were meant to be the start of her salon when she was able to stand for long enough periods of time to go into business. It was the thing that was hidden behind them that Tech had insisted she keep with her for protection the last time they were together.

Genna waited at the bottom of the steps up into the Havoc Marauder while her husband ran inside to get one last thing he had forgotten before they parted ways for Manda knew how long. She hoped it wasn't 'something to remember him by'. She already had the ring that was doing her very little good on its chain around her neck.

She couldn't get it resized to wear on her left hand. Too many people would ask questions about where it had come from. Maybe she could get him to take it back and sell it so they could have the credits they obviously needed.

But then he was back and she didn't want to waste a moment of the time they had left. She looked into his brown eyes paying no attention to the object he was holding out to her.

"I want you to have this."

She glanced down and then seeing what it was, recoiled. "What? Kriff, no!"

He advanced, "It is Mandalorian made, a Westar, and small enough to conceal…"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? I've never held a kriffing blaster in my life!"

He took another cautious step towards her, and she noticed, between her and Ellie who was waiting by the speeder bike for them to finish. "This place where you are going, we don't have any intel on it. You'll be surrounded by Mollymauk's associates and I won't be there to protect you."

Genna allowed him to put the thing into her hands and cover them with his own.

"I will feel better knowing you have this small measure of self defense."

She had expected the metal to feel cold but it still held some of his residual heat. She had hidden it away as soon as she arrived at Blackhold.

And now if her hosts' youngest child had found the thing!

Genna raced into her room, propelled by her walking canes and a burst of adrenaline induced speed. "Lana, what are you…" She could see at a glance that the little girl had been distracted with other things long before she had reached the hiding spot of the weapon. "Osik, kid!"

The six-year-old's face was painted in a colorful array of beauty products but Genna was too relieved that it was only the red of rouge on her hands to be overly angry. She collapsed onto the edge of the bed trembling slightly.

Tears filled Lana's eyes as the shock of being caught washed over her, and as they spilled over her cheeks they left tracks in the rainbow sludge. "I'm sorry, Miss Genna."

"No," Genna melted. She didn't have much experience with kids but she certainly didn't want to make one cry. "Ah come here. It's alright."

The little girl barreled into her embrace nearly knocking her off balance. But when she looked up into Genna's face she was smiling again, mischievously through her tears. "I only wanted to make myself pretty like you."

Alright, she knew when she was being played. Genna rolled her eyes. "You know, kid, you could have just asked. It's not like I have anybody to practice on up here anyway. Or that anybody will want to come once I'm able to set up shop."

She grabbed cloth and a bottle of makeup removal cream and began to work on Lana's face.

"Of course they'll want to come and see you!" the little girl beamed, "you're lucky!"

"Me? Lucky?" Genna laughed "Where'd you get an idea like that?"

"Dalla said so." She held remarkably still while the stylist applied a more reasonable amount of color on her cheeks and lips.

So Mollymauk was back in town. That was interesting but she wouldn't say anything to the child so she changed the subject. "I thought it was supposed to be lucky to kiss a sailor."

Lana giggled. "You could kiss Sloan. He's a sailor."

"Yeah, kid. I don't think…"

"There you both are." Shara Blackwell entered the room and they both looked up at her guiltily.

"Hi, Momma."

"It's just a little blush and lip gloss. It'll wash right off."

"Oh," Shara seemingly just noticed what was going on and gave a small nod. "Oh that's fine. I just wanted to tell you, Genna, that Dalla is in her father's office and she wished to speak to you."

"Osik," Genna swore quietly and only then did she remember that she was supposed to be watching her language in front of the kids. "She wants to speak to me?"

Shara's eye twitched but she didn't mention it. "I assume she just wants to inquire how you are settling in."

"Well, everything's been great, more than great really." Genna put the assortment of cosmetics she had been using into their case and reached for her canes.

Lana, looking to be helpful, started to pick up the case. "I know where this goes!"

"No!" Genna stopped her. "I'll put it away when I get back."

"Come on." Shara frowned as she took her daughter's hand. "I need your help in the kitchen."

Genna made her way to the Northern Lord's office, that she now realized Mollymauk must have been using for her own purposes when she wasn't in Iziz at the museum, and knocked on the door.

As soon as they were alone, the teenage fence adopted a far more familiar, serious attitude. "Just to be crystal clear, my family is to know nothing about the network."

"I wasn't planning to tell them."

"We should have our stories straight. You can't tell them I paid for the surgery, or mention the Batch at all."

"I don't go around sharing my husband's identity." When Tech's safety was the most important thing in her life? How dare Dalla imply she would put him at risk! Genna took a deep breath. She knew Dalla hadn't meant to insult her, only to make sure they were on the same page. "What should I tell anyone who asks?"

"Tell them you won the money on a lottery ticket."

She hadn't been expecting that. "A lottery ticket?"

"It's the option which leaves the fewest loose ends," Dalla explained. "If you said the doctor did the work pro bono, he can always pop up and deny it, and if you claim it was an inheritance or a lawsuit settlement it just begs more questions. A lottery ticket off is virtually untraceable, especially since most prizes are claimed anonymously."

"But that's so bold. Don't you want to go for something more mundane?"

Dalla shrugged. "Go big or go home is what I say."

And hadn't it served her well. What would people think if Genna told them the truth: my surgery was paid for by a pink-haired teenager who runs one of the fastest growing smuggling operations in the galaxy, and I met her through the interference of a squad of rogue clones working for her competition. She wasn't looking to establish a reputation as "the crazy lady."

Genna slowly nodded. "And that would be why prospective clients might believe me to be 'lucky'? Once I'm ready to set up shop, that is."

"Aye!" Dalla grinned. "It's a strategy that will be beneficial to both of us."