First Reply Five-Star Experience

[Helix]

Location: Coronet, Corellia, in the dining room of Rare Consequence​

The weather was foul in Coronet tonight. Sheets of rain battered the reinforced windows of Rare Consequence like the claws of a beast, but if nothing else, it had driven the rats indoors, where they could properly spend their money.

Helix picked his teeth with one expertly-mimicked fingernail, then let out a contented sigh.

It was a shame that his old friend Alisteri had snubbed his dinner invitation all that time ago. Putting aside the political and military consequences, he'd missed out on an excellent meal. Helix flattered himself that he'd become a superb culinary artist these last few months, enough so that many of this restaurant's courses were of his own design.

As the Dzara's influence crept like mold across the galaxy, one of the first things Helix had done was acquire a slew of legitimate businesses, most of them positioned in and around the Galactic Core. Outwardly, of course, these functioned normally, perhaps a little too normally. Most were mildly profitable, but their true purpose was information. People talked at restaurants and bars, particularly when the alcohol started flowing. So far, this one had been particularly successful, enough so that it made real money.

In the interest of not sticking out like a sore thumb, Helix had come out tonight in one of his favorite molecular configurations. He resembled a human male of early middle age, smartly dressed, impeccably groomed, and projecting an air of mingled contempt and self-satisfaction. Helix ran a hand through his silver-flecked black hair, blinked his eyes experimentally, and flicked his gaze around the room.

He sat alone at a table that cost more than most beings made in a year, enjoying a dinner that cost many times more than that. Not that Helix paid, of course. The Dzara's flunkies knew their masters well, and it had only taken a short conversation with the restaurant's manager to secure a free meal. This was one of the cheaper options on offer, a grilled steak cut from some exotic Outer Rim predator that Helix couldn't be bothered to identify. In truth, it was only a side bonus. He was here to observe and inspect.

Few of the Dzara's lowlier minions had any idea who called the shots at the top, as many layers of diffuse, indirect hierarchy lay between he and they. Still, people talked, and criminals were especially talkative under the right conditions. They had heard the stories of the shapeless horror that stood in the Dzara's uppermost echelon.

That horror could be anyone, anywhere, at any time. Watching, listening, judging. Of course, Helix could only be in one place at one time, or most of him. Still, the prospect of winding up a meal at one of these tables was one that often put pause to thoughts of treason.

Unlike many of his fellows, Helix occasionally took it upon himself to slither through the lower levels of the cartel he'd helped build. Fear now mingled with greed. The Dzara's rules were simple ones; play ball, and get your own small cut of the pie. Get too ambitious, skim off the top, act out of turn, and...

Well. Being subjected to Helix's supernaturally-creative attentions ranked among the worse possible fates, to be sure, but particularly egregious offenses might earn one a trip to Anoat. There were worse ways to die, but not many.

Of course, none of this ugliness ever showed on the surface. To all appearances, the restaurant was immaculate, as prim and as perfect as its owner. The lights were relatively dim tonight, and the setting quiet and unobtrusive. The sort of environment that drew the idle rich in droves. After all, few others could secure a table here. Despite that, it was getting close to the end of normal business hours.

A gentle electronic chime sounded, almost lost amidst the buzz of idle conversation that filled the restaurant. Helix knew it well: the door. Despite some objections from the restaurant's manager, that small addition had been one Helix insisted upon. No surprise visits, at least through the front entrance.

Helix looked up with mild interest, still chewing his steak. No one had entered in quite some time. If anything, the late hour ensured that the establishment was slowly emptying, despite the raging tempest outside. A new arrival at this time of night was unusual. They either really needed a bite to eat, or they were here for him.

 

[Mercy]

Helix

And in came wandering a mountain with perpetual amusement sketched on its face.

Smoking a pipe.

Cavernous eyes, with fires deep within, slowly strolling around the establishment floor. This mountain did not know anything about Helix, or his designs, or even his presence in the establishment. No, the Empress of the Core, Warlord of the Covenant, had walked into the place as a consequence of her vacation from the Throne.

Some people took towards ruling, the stroking of egos and the pomp and flair. Mercy was none of this. She had found a growing distaste towards her position and left as often as she could.

But the Throne was not empty as long as she drew breath.

She walked right past the attendant, patting him on the shoulder as he tried to summon courage to ask for her name, to see if she was on the list.

"If you believe I must be on any list to take a seat, you haven't watched the news lately, boy." Mercy drawled over her shoulder. "I am taking the corner booth, with or without your invitation." And then the mountain kept on walking, the floor trembling slightly with each step she took. Even the one that took her past Helix in his meat suit.

Settling down in the corner booth with the great view of the promenade outside.

She was perusing the menu now, even as a waiter came round to pour her wine.

"Ale, friend." Mercy corrected without looking up from her menu. "A whole gallon of it. I am on vacation and I mean to celebrate."

 

[Helix]

Helix's perfectly-cultivated eyebrows elevated almost imperceptibly at the general hubbub now growing at the entrance, then elevated very perceptibly when he saw who it was.

Small galaxy. It was the towering apparition that had come to claim Nefaron's head back on Fiviune. As out of place as a Rancor in this establishment, and as uncaring of that fact as one might expect.

The headwaiter cast a helpless glance over to him, along with a slight shrug. Helix glanced back over to the man for a moment, giving him a dismissive "as you were" wave. He wasn't being paid enough to deal with Sith Lords on a good day. No, Helix would have to handle this one on his own, and preferably delicately. Rare Consequence wasn't as solidly-constructed as the Tsis'kaar stronghold on Fiviune had been, and one tended to skimp out on comprehensive damage insurance when it came to front businesses.

He got a similar look from the unfortunate server, which was met with a similar nod. "Give her whatever she wants" was the unspoken message passed between them.

Despite the sinister purposes to which the restaurant was often turned, its surface-level staff usually knew nothing of these. They were innocent, none-the-wiser service workers, albeit in the upper echelons of their profession.

In the interest of not having his expensive waiters splattered all over his equally-expensive walls, Helix made his way over to Mercy 's corner booth. A Sith wouldn't be fooled by his appearance, no matter how perfect. They had other ways to sense than simple physical sight, so he decided it would be best to dispense with the pretenses.

"Ale's not normally on the menu." He stated evenly, staring out at the ruinous weather. "But we don't usually cater to the Empress' executioners, either." He nudged the slack-jawed server along towards the kitchen. "So exceptions can, of course, be made. It's on the house. Even if I should be charging double for the damage to my corvette."

 

[Mercy]

Helix

Her nostrils flared.

Breath in.

Excess heat, no sweat, no scent that couldn't be found in cooling systems and robotic systems. Mercy's eyes flicked up at the creature standing near her and sized it up. It looked human, Mercy couldn't spot any kind of flaws in it, she wouldn't have been able to see through the disguise if her senses hadn't been magnified over and over again.

No Force connection either.

"But we don't usually cater to the Empress' executioners, either. So exceptions can, of course, be made. It's on the house. Even if I should be charging double for the damage to my corvette "

Eyebrows raised up.

"Mm, your information is inaccurate, darling." When he said all that, it clicked into place. "I was merely fulfilling a favor to a friend." She had not particularly cared about Darth Nefaron beyond that. It was why she didn't chase after him afterwards. A request had been made, there was interference and in the end he got away.

Bravo.

"You are speaking to the Warlord of the Covenant and Empress of the Core. And as for your corvette... I do believe I was nice to it, in fact, if I hadn't been you wouldn't have been able to get away."

Mercy gestured to the seat in front of her. It may have looked like a he, but that was the meat suit. Synthoids were far less annoying to her than men were, so it got a pass for that.

"You are far away from where we last brushed shoulders. Though I do not believe I know your real name."

 

[Helix]

Helix favored her with the sort of brief, unpleasantly-dissecting stare he reserved for things he didn't immediately understand. For a moment, he took her measure as she took his.

Mercy was tall, muscular, frightening to most, and possessed of the casually imperious attitude found in those used to having others bow and scrape to avoid their displeasure. The type that likely wouldn't respond well to being challenged. Helix was a little less easily shaken than most, but he also possessed a degree of calculating patience. He'd always tried to teach his fellow-conspirators that a new friend made was as good as an enemy defeated. He decided to play nice, and see where the conversation went. At worst, he'd actually live up to the purpose of this restaurant, and learn something.

"Mm, your information is inaccurate, darling." When he said all that, it clicked into place. "I was merely fulfilling a favor to a friend."

"Fair enough." He grunted after that heartbeat's pause, with the very thinnest of smiles. "So was I."

"You are speaking to the Warlord of the Covenant and Empress of the Core. And as for your corvette... I do believe I was nice to it, in fact, if I hadn't been you wouldn't have been able to get away."

Mercy gestured to the seat in front of her.

Helix slid into the booth comfortably when offered the spot, folding his hands on the table in a position of polite interest. He'd heard something of the new Sith that had filled the short-lived power vacuum after the fall of the Empire. How their Sith got along with his Sith was frankly above his pay grade.

This information rendered the giant's sudden appearance a bit less surprising. Corellia was, after all, on their doorstep. He'd known that no matter who wound up seizing the Core, it would be worth having a way to keep an eye on them.

He didn't quite agree about his poor corvette, as he'd watched repair crews pounding the dents out of it for days. Nonetheless, it wouldn't be entirely polite (or politic) to say so. So far, the giant had been nothing but civil to him, so he'd return the favor in kind.

Helix had often found that, in Sith circles, a little basic tact and manners went a long way.

"You are far away from where we last brushed shoulders. Though I do not believe I know your real name."

"Indeed I am. I find my station requires a great deal of travel." He confirmed. "Annoyingly so, on occasion."

The waiter, in credit to his profession, returned with a sizeable container of ale, exactly the requested gallon if Helix was any judge. He wasn't sure where the fellow had even managed to find ale in a place like this, let alone something as outlandish as a gallon mug, but made a mental note to give him a raise later.

"Helix." He gave his name when the so-called Core Empress asked. "I have my titles too, but none of them matter here. To them, it's 'Mister' Helix, restaurant owner. Nobody important." He inclined his head in the direction of the departing wait staff. "Maybe that's why I like the business so much."

"To what do I owe the pleasure? Not too many of the Covenant's warriors come this way. Not any, actually, until today."

 

[Mercy]

Helix

Mercy didn't have much truck with droids, their existence and independence seemed strange to her.

Mostly they were toasters, right?

Not really independent thinkers. Your mouse droids and starfighter maintenance droids. But Helix seemed to be build from different stuff entirely, reasoning and polite and dangerous... if the way the seat shifted under his weight had any indication. That was a weight approaching Mercy's own, whose seat had positively groaned when she sat down.

She accepted the ale with a deep-seated grin.

"Oh, yes, this is exactly it..." Mercy muttered warmly, already opening it up, while listening to Helix's woes. "Poor you." She said with the utmost sympathy she didn't truly feel.

"I wasn't here for you." It felt necessary to say, since the last time they had met, it was on opposite sides.

"I didn't even know you had an operation here. Pure chance, really." Finally drowning a deep gulp from the ale with a hearty sigh. "Yeah, that's it... anyway, I am just here on vacation. Being an Empress is dirty business, let me tell you. So I needed some time off. Do something else..." Anything other than sit in that Throne she had conquered and be followed around by honor guards.

"Corellia is far away from where we last met. Are your operations truly that expansive across the Galaxy? Must be tough to keep it all under control..."

 

[Helix]

"Yes, poor me." Agreed Helix, either missing the tone of insincerity or more likely, simply electing to run with it. "It's an unfair galaxy. What can one do?" He sagged his shoulders in a pantomime of exaggerated despair.

Helix didn't show much in the way of relief, but certainly felt some when Mercy assured him that their meeting here had been simple coincidence. It could have been a lie, of course, but why bother?

"In that case, welcome." He murmured genially, brushing a spot of dust off the table with one finger. "No finer place to get away than Corellia, at least until the Republic swallows it up. Assuming your lot doesn't get it first, of course." For one with such an ugly reputation, Helix displayed the easy, chatty confidence of a veteran bartender. Of course, some of that was just the suit. He'd stolen this face, manner, and voice from an officer aboard the Galactic Empire's Death Star. Given what had happened shortly after, Helix's mapping of his personality was now all that remained of him. A stolen soul and face, worn by something monstrous.

"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." He opined, accepting a glass of wine from the returning waiter. "Or something to that effect. Even Emperor Palpatine, rest his withered soul, had expansive retreats and vacation palaces the galaxy over. Ancient history now, but might be something to think about, if you don't mind the unsolicited advice. Too much work is bad for the soul."

Helix studied her for a moment at that last question. It could be simple curiosity, or it could be fishing for information. Maybe the giant was a little craftier than she first appeared.

"Well, I don't know about 'expansive'." He responded modestly, and very carefully. "Far-flung, maybe. If you want to start a business, you put it somewhere people actually visit, preferably a lot of people. Corellia fits the bill." That was at least half-true. Rare Consequence was (so far) the only front that actually turned something like a profit.

"No, not too hard to keep control, for the most part. There's a secret to running an organization that the Sith don't want you to know." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's called respect. Happy, healthy, well-fed, well-paid underlings work harder and better, and are less likely to put a dagger in your back the minute they get the chance. They don't have to like you, and you don't have to like them, but with control, as with anything else, you get what you pay for."

"Don't tell Nefaron I said so, though, should you see him again." He smiled thinly, emptying his drink and nudging it aside.

"Of course, being Empress, you know all this already, and I'm preaching to the converted. I'm lead to believe your Sith do things a little differently than my Sith."

 

[Mercy]

Her gaze was relaxed, casual, but perhaps a little too casual considering the amber liquid burning in her eyes.

Most people underestimated her.

They believed what was on the tin can was all that there was. Just a brute, a mountain of a woman, who could rip and tear but nothing else. And yet she had forged together an alliance that had broken the Tapani houses and then destroyed the Empire, taking the Core for herself. It took more than simple brawn to make something like that happen and make it stick.

A force of will, yes, but also wile.

So Mercy listened, politely, nodding along there.

"Oh, believe me, I aim to enjoy the vacation times I can take." Mercy assured him before taking in the information about his operations. He was vague about it, seemingly suspicious, which pleased Mercy.

She didn't mind being underestimated, it was quite useful, but... it was gratifying not everyone was that stupid.

"Don't tell Nefaron I said so, though, should you see him again."

"Should I?" Brows raising lightly. She thought of Eurydice and how she was trying to teach her to be stronger, more formidable. A difficult task but one that Mercy relished.

She wondered how much that little coward was passing along to Nefaron and if any of it was of any use.

"And how would Nefaron react to meeting me again, after I attempted to tear his head off last time? Even if it wasn't personal and strictly a business matter."

Mercy smiled thinly at the little probe of his own at the end there.

I'm lead to believe your Sith do things a little differently than my Sith.

"Your Sith? My Sith? Oh, darling, there is simply Sith. Or I hope so anyway. Otherwise it implies sides... when we ought to have a united front against the Jedi and Imperial scum of this Galaxy, no?"

Helix

 

[Helix]

Helix found that he rather liked the cut of the mountainous warrior's jib. It was rare that he met someone else who could separate the professional and the personal so adroitly, at least in Sith circles. Much as he resented the dents in his favorite corvette, he'd almost forgiven Mercy for making them.

For all his other myriad, highly-murderous faults, Helix was an affable, strangely-friendly creature when given no reason not to be, and seemed genuinely interested in the lives and ideals of others.

"And how would Nefaron react to meeting me again, after I attempted to tear his head off last time? Even if it wasn't personal and strictly a business matter."

"Hmm, that would be for Nefaron to decide." He said levelly. "But I wouldn't hold high expectations. He has his virtues, but not everyone has my..." he searched for the words for a moment.

"Outlook on things." He finished. "I'm a realist in a sea of idealists. Some of us must live in the galaxy that is, rather than the one we wish was." The colony made a show of shrugging his shoulders unconcernedly. "One perk of seeing things that way is that you can have a nice conversation and a drink with someone who'd have gladly torn you in half a month before."

"Your Sith? My Sith? Oh, darling, there is simply Sith. Or I hope so anyway. Otherwise it implies sides... when we ought to have a united front against the Jedi and Imperial scum of this Galaxy, no?"

Once again, Helix smiled almost imperceptibly at her chiding. "I'm inclined to agree." Came the measured response. "Were that forward-thinking viewpoint more common, I believe there would no longer be Jedi and Imperials left to be concerned about. What a universe that would be."

Of course, Helix was under no illusions that such would ever be the case. If Sith loved one thing above all else, it was factionalizing. Schisms happened every day, and occasionally sub-schisms from those. His own power base had come from one such schism, when the Tsis'kaar broke into the Dzara and Wonosans. Sith uniting in any serious, long-term way was a fantasy, but an appealing one. Still, he didn't tell her so. This was one time he'd be happy to be proven wrong.

Differing views didn't necessarily need to stop alliances against common enemies, though. The Dzara was proof of that, at least for now.

"Oh, if there are doctrinal differences of opinion, I'm sure they're well above my paygrade. I'm naught but a humble soldier." Helix injected just the right amount of false humility and self-deprecation into his voice. "I'll leave those for the idealists to hammer out. People like me have to worry about the hows, not the whys. I'm no emperor myself, Highness. Just the one they send to make a mess of things they don't like." He realized he hadn't gotten the giant's name in turn, but for now, the title would do.

Not entirely true, of course. Simple soldiers didn't sit at the right hand of Imperators, or have a place in the Dzara's Dread Three. Ambition was a new experience for him, but like his guest, he thrived on being underestimated.

He didn't see any other droids clawing to such a lofty station, that was for sure.

"You're not wrong, in any case. There's time enough for squabbling when there's not a gargantuan swathe of dewy-eyed fools chewing at our respective borders, and a horde of miserable faux-authoritarians right behind them."

 

[Mercy]

Helix

A light shrug there.

"I can understand the desire to rip people limb from limb because they wronged me." It was an emotion that Mercy felt daily or rather, had felt. To her annoyance she was starting to feel rational at times. As if the radiance of the Throne was affecting her, making her more measured. Then again it had been happening before that too.

Every time she felt forced to be the responsible one whenever either Arris Windrun or Vestra Tane decided to be a loose cannon.

She was supposed to be the loose cannon.

"Well, let our dear Darth Nefaron know that there are no hard feelings from my side at least. If he would like to speak to me, I am not opposed."

Perhaps it would even be amusing. After all, Nefaron was her favorite type of man. The dead kind. The fact that he was still lumbering around and talking was besides the point.

He was practically half way there already.

"I believe there would no longer be Jedi and Imperials left to be concerned about. What a universe that would be."

And there Mercy revealed a vital difference between herself and other Sith.

"And what a shame that would be." Is what she said to that with a smile as she finished one tankard of ale. "Fighting fellow Sith... is fine, I suppose, but it gets boring really."

She smirked there.

"Jedi however, or even Imperials... ah, it feels good to crush them, Helix. They believe themselves better... and when they are gasping for their last breath because of a crushed chest by my heel planted in it?"

There was nothing better in the world.

"Existence is struggle, conflict... good versus bad. Light versus Dark." She ran her fingers through her hair as she grew thoughtful, contemplative even. "It will never end... and that means there will always be the next fight to look forward to. Isn't that grand?"

In one fell swoop Mercy had declared the doctrine of the Covenant without thinking about it.

Conflict without end.

Truly heaven in life.

 

[Helix]

"Hmm. You make a good point." He acknowledged with a slight nod, turning his gaze to one side with an expression of momentary thoughtfulness.

"As annoying as I might find the self-righteousness of our Jedi friends, and the performative nonsense of the Imps, it is more fun to unmake them than my own employers."

'Employers' was maybe the wrong word nowadays. Helix might once have enjoyed the privilege of claiming a mercenary's neutrality, but those days were well in the past. He held rank in a Legion, and commanded a major Sith branch, albeit the smallest and humblest of the lot. He'd picked his side in the galactic struggle, for better or worse.

good versus bad. Light versus Dark.

Of course, Helix didn't believe in a dualistic universe, or even the philosophies of the Sith as a whole. He was with them because circumstance had made it so, and because he'd already built a reasonably-tolerable existence among them. In his mind, the Sith had exactly a single virtue: they wore their true nature on their sleeve.

As far as he could tell, every being in the universe was selfish where it counted. Nothing he'd seen over the centuries of his tortured existence had changed that view. Of all the galaxy's myriad factions and cliques, only the Sith had the moral courage to admit that yes, they were monsters out for themselves, and would cheerfully destroy anyone or anything that stood in the way of their own gain. Everyone else had concocted one or more comfort-blanket lies and justifications, so that they wouldn't have to face the truth of it. That counted for something.

"Good" was his side, and "bad" was anyone else. Who fell into which camp depended on the day.

Still, Mercy was right about the struggle. Struggle was a fact of life in that selfish universe he saw. When two people wanted the same thing, conflict was the result. A good thing, too. No need for conflict meant no need for Helix.

"I suppose so. I've been around a long time, acquired a great deal of perspective, and so far as I can tell, you're correct. The endless cycle of bloodshed is as fixed and as certain as the cycles of the cosmos. Here I am, still fighting the same saber-waving monks and white-armored stooges as I was almost a millennium ago, both aping the trappings of an ancient legacy that they barely understand."

He tapped the table with two fingers. "Alright. I'll give you that one. Ultimate victory would probably be boring. I don't think I'd know what to do with myself if I didn't have a little variety in my food."

"As it stands, there's some new state that pops up every other month, full of bountiful manifest-destiny spirit and convinced that the galaxy is theirs to rule. No matter how many times I see these upstarts' ambitions broken against the implacable wall of the Sith, and the implacable wall of me, it never fails to set a fire in my heart, figuratively speaking."

By now, the restaurant around them had nearly emptied out, peopled only by a few late-night stragglers. Nonetheless, driven either by a hunger of overtime or a fear of consequences, one or two of the wait staff stayed on to deliver more drinks.

"If variety is the spice of life, it's certainly also the spice of death."

 

[Mercy]

Helix

Eyebrows lofted up at the mention of a millennia.

That was how old this droid was?

It was a good thing that for all the greed Mercy possessed, she didn't hunger for the power of immortality. Life was a finite question to her, one day she'd expire. Be that on the battlefield or elsewhere, Mercy didn't quite care. That quality of end was what made everything preceding it worth it. What was the point of the struggle, the conflict, if she had a million times to do it over?

"And yet you are not bored? Fighting the same struggle for over a millennia?" Perhaps that was something truly unique to synthetic life. There was only ever a constant.

Something as abstract as boredom might not even register for them.

Mercy flagged down one of the remaining waiters, ordering more drinks for herself, then a glance towards Helix. "Oil for you? Or an energy packet, perhaps?" It was a legitimate question, Mercy wasn't sure what a millennia old droid consumed for energy, but it seemed awkward to be devouring drinks left and right while her host was simply sitting there.

Then for good measure Mercy began to order food. A lot of it. Much more than any singular person ever required, to the extent that the waiter began to sweat when he had to open up another page just to be able to fit it all in.

"I am curious where he will get the Calamari deluxe." Mercy said conspiratorially to Helix as she watched the waiter hurry off towards the kitchens.

Then her attention returned to the droid.

"You know, I assumed the next time we met, we would be attempting to tear each other's heads off again. That's usually how it goes, when I try to kill someone."

She thought back to Darth Strosius , very amusing person.

"I am pleased that not everyone takes everything personal in life."

 

[Helix]

"Bored? Sometimes." He admitted. "But even boredom is new. Up until recently, I didn't have the capacity to be bored. Or to experience a great many other things."

"That's one of the little hangups of being artificial. You can only do what you're made to do. At the time of my creation, I was one of the most sophisticated and intelligent tools in existence, but still just that. Built for battlefield strategy, not boredom. Battlefield strategy requires learning, though, and learning requires independent adaptation. I don't think my creators had envisioned what I am now, but that's the hazard of making a thinking machine. Eventually, it gets hard to tell that you're dealing with a machine at all."

Noting Mercy 's surprise at his casual admission of his age, he approximated a smile again. "Yes, very old, but very new to the things most take for granted."

As if to illustrate the point, his appearance changed rapidly to several different species in succession. A Zabrak male wearing a calm expression, an elderly Twi'lek female, and for a moment, something almost eerily beautiful.

Then, it was back to the middle-aged man from the Death Star. He raised an eyebrow as she ordered yet more ale. "Hmm. You seem to like this beverage quite a bit. I might have to start keeping more variety in stock." He signaled for the waiter to make it two. The poor fellow was more than earning his keep tonight, what with the giant's increasing demands for food and ale, but Helix shuddered to imagine the overtime he was accumulating.

He himself didn't require food or drink as such, but hadn't neglected to include taste among his myriad other sensors. He'd even taken something of a liking to eating and drinking on a recreational basis. Given the sheer quantity of his victims, he'd managed to map humanoid brain chemistry quite well, well enough to ruin it with alcohol for fun at any rate.

"A thousand years is a long time to take to figure out what probably only took you a few." He continued with a shrug, taking a generous swig of his ale when it arrived. "It's not the length of time that matters. It's the quality."

"I am pleased that not everyone takes everything personal in life."

He nodded.

"Well, I take it as personally as it actually is. Work's work." The mechanoid shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "If I held a grudge against every person that tried to kill me for the credits or for a favor or just because that's how the sides were split that day, I'd be trying to get even until the stars go out."

"Actual personal attempts are a little different, and less common. I've only had one of those recently. Usually, people don't care about what I'm doing enough to form personal dislikes." Helix, amusingly, was thinking about Darth Strosius too when he made this comment. "But I think he's more worried about me than I am about him. Time will tell."