Private Spira-ling out of control

[Sommer Dai]

Sommer Dai swept into the loft like she owned both the sunrise and the aftermath. From her vantage in the doorway, she took in the soft glow of Spira's dawn, the faint smoke plume far off on the horizon—and then the two figures before her.


Her cousin Kael lounged on the sectional, half a glass of mineral tonic balanced casually in one hand. Beside him sat the woman who'd commandeered his attention so completely that Kael looked almost… peaceful. Unheard of. Intriguing.


Sommer's lips quirked into a smile that was all steel and silk. She crossed the room in three confident strides, each click of her boots on the reclaimed wood floor setting the tempo of her arrival.


"I leave you alone for one vacation," she announced, her voice warm but laced with amused reproach, "and the universe sets half the docks ablaze just to lure me back." She paused, head tilting as she studied Scherezade. "But what a way to greet me."


Her gaze traveled from the dark sweep of her hair down to the structured lines of her outfit, down to the confident press of her shoulders.


"Sommer Dai," she continued, letting her title hang between them like an invitation and a verdict. "Owner of this residence—and any collateral damage reports that might come with it."


Her eyes softened with genuine approval. "And you must be my cousin's mystery guest. Nailed it." She lifted a brow. "Your look is… spectacular. Sharp enough to cut glass, and fierce enough to make half the galaxy think twice."


Sommer took a small step closer, the air around her charged with both appraisal and welcome. "I expected theatrics," she admitted, "but I didn't expect this level of… presence. You wear danger beautifully."


She turned finally to Kael, a playful edge returning to her tone. "Now, cousin, since I'm here, you owe me the full story: Which part of 'slow beach getaway' did you misinterpret? And when do I get to hear how you two survived without setting my entire property register on fire?"


With one last appreciative glance at Scherezade—Sommer folded her arms, ready for the explanations to begin.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade had to really work to keep herself from giggling. The way Sommer chastised Kael… it was almost word for word how Madalena or Katrine used to speak to her, right before a pillow got thrown or something important exploded. And just like a schoolchild watching someone else get scolded while somehow getting off scot-free, the urge to laugh buzzed right beneath her skin. But she managed. Barely.

Then Sommer's gaze turned to her, and all the mirth in her chest folded itself into something quieter, something smaller. She shifted just enough to make space on the couch, in case Sommer wanted to sit, though she had the distinct sense that was unlikely. Still, it felt like the polite thing to do.

The compliments landed harder than she expected. Her fingers twitched, tempted to tug at the edge of her barely-a-dress, to make sure she hadn't somehow imagined how fierce she'd looked an hour ago. She mumbled a quiet, "Thank you," unsure if it sounded sheepish or stunned. Possibly both.

Suddenly, the outfit, the confidence, the closeness with Kael… It all felt like a dream she'd wandered into wearing someone else's skin. Because Scherezade deWinter didn't do things like this. She stumbled. She blurted. She cut herself on her own thoughts. This poised, glitter-slicked version of herself felt like a fluke.

Well. Except for the part where something blew up.

That part definitely tracked.

Scherezade looked around the room. In truth, they hadn't yet managed to mess it up completely. Not the way they'd messed the private areas on Nar Shaddaa or on her ship. That had all been interest, curiosity, and fire. And totally not what Sommer had asked about.

But thankfully, Kael was there. So that meant Scherezade didn't have to pretend like she knew how to use words to get her point across.

"We're like roaches," she said at last, words slipping out before she could stop them. "We'll survive anything. Except maybe a really good boot stomping."



Sommer Dai Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael offered Sommer a rueful half‑smile and tilted his head.


"Well," he said, glancing between them, "we thought a little chaos was optional, but apparently it's mandatory."


He took a breath and then caught sight of Sommer's expression—just for a heartbeat, something shadowed behind her eyes. His smile softened


"Hey Som," he murmured, voice low. "You all right?"


He kept his gaze on Sommer, noticing her demeanor was odd, although impressive.

 

[Sommer Dai]

Sommer's stern façade wavered for a moment, then she offered Kael a tight nod.

"I'll send you a memo by the end of the day," she said, voice clipped but not unkind. "All my recent… extracurriculars. You'll want every detail before you file your next 'improvised vacation' report."

She turned smoothly on her heel, eyes glinting as they landed on Scherezade. "you're practically part of the Virex family now. Kael and I go back to holo-diaper days—seen each other through more wreckage than this whole beach could hold." She gave Kael a pointed look. "You'd think he’d be a little more mature by now.”

Kael bristled at the tease, but at Sommer's side he simply raised an eyebrow in mock offense.

Sommer allowed herself a brief, genuine half‑smile—just enough to lighten the air—before the gravity returned to her eyes. She lifted a hand, glancing toward the distant smoke curling on the horizon.

"I hate to cut this reunion short," she said, voice low now, "but that blast needs my attention." She glanced at her datapad, then back at them both. "I'll be across the inlet. Keep your comm open. And Kael—read that memo carefully. We've got business to settle once I'm back."

With that, she swept past them, boots clicking down the hallway, layers of silk and steel making their departure as dramatic as their arrival. The door slid shut behind her, leaving Kael and Scherezade alone once more.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She… was part of the family now? What. Scherezade blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Of all the things she'd expected to hear today, which included but were not limited to glitter bombs, vague threats, offhanded compliments from intimidating women wrapped in silk and steel… That hadn't even been on the board.

For a moment, her heart tripped over itself like a dancer who'd missed the beat. It didn't fall. But it wobbled.

The moment passed, but a thread remained, caught just behind her ribs. Something about Sommer. Not just the way she moved or spoke, but the shadow that had hovered just beneath her eyes. There was something there, something that was intangible, hard to name. But familiar, too. A taste on the air. A shift in gravity. She didn't know the word for it yet. But it made her want to look again.

Only after the door hissed shut behind the Virex matriarch did Scherezade let herself laugh.
It wasn't loud, just a quiet pop of mirth, like a glitter bomb going off in her throat. Flecks of amusement, sharp and shimmering.

"Well," she echoed, leaning back with casual grace, "that answered her question."

She leaned back, slow and languid, as if nothing in the world could rush her now. A slight turn of the head, a sideways glance at Kael, her smile a touch more feline than before.

"Your turn now," she said, her voice quieter, but no less pointed. "What's that memo about?"

A pause. Not long, but long enough for something tender to slip in under the mischief.

"And are you all right?"



Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael didn't answer right away. He sat with the weight of Scherezade's question hanging in the room like the last note of a haunting melody. The flicker of warmth in her tone hadn't gone unnoticed. Neither had the glimmer behind her eyes—one part teasing, one part something else. Something real.

He exhaled through his nose and tapped on his wrist comm, opening the encrypted holo-memo Sommer had promised.

The display unfolded in front of him in a soft blue shimmer, Sommer's voice speaking clearly over the faint hum of waves in the background of the recording.

"Kael. I need you to have this in case anything happens. Alyssa and I are following up on a theory—no, more than a theory. I may be… I may not be who I thought I was. Not completely. There's a pattern in the genetic data, anomalies I can't explain yet. Not without full analysis. There's a chance I'm a clone… of myself. I'll spare you the dramatic theories until I have proof. We're heading back from Aleen. Don't worry—I'm not spiraling. Yet. I just… I want you to know."

Kael's eyes flickered as the message ended, the silence that followed heavy and intimate.

He closed the holo-display gently, fingers lingering over the air like he wasn't quite ready to let it go.

Then, finally, he looked at Scherezade.

"No," he said softly. "I'm not all right. But I will be."

He reached over, extending his hand with an unspoken invitation, a grounding gesture in the swirl of sudden revelations.

"Today's not getting ruined by clones or explosions or whatever cosmic curveball decides to swing next," Kael added, more steel in his voice now. "Not if I can help it."

But just as their fingers brushed—

Beep.
A sharp alert buzzed against his wrist.

Kael turned his arm instinctively, reading the urgent message streaming from the local Spira news channel. Encrypted. Government level.

"BREAKING: Explosion confirmed in downtown Spiraholm. Multiple timed detonations. Casualties currently unknown. Three suspects fleeing toward upper commercial levels. Security forces en route."

His jaw tightened.


"Well," he muttered, offering Scherezade a grim half-smile. "So much for the quiet part of the day.... I need a drink.. I should pop open the good stuff.."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

He didn't have to say it. She could see it now, etched into the way his spine curled, the heaviness dragging at his shoulders. He wasn't all right. Maybe not not all right, but further from it than she wanted him to be. So she didn't speak at first. Just inched a little closer as the message played, letting the silence sit between them like a blanket, not a void.

Cloning didn't seem like a big deal to her. People did it. People she knew did it. But she could hear it in Sommer's voice, and she could feel it in Kael. This wasn't just science. This was personal.

"Hey," she murmured, resting her head lightly on his shoulder. Her hand stayed right where he'd reached for it, anchored, not withdrawn. "I like that you said that. That you're not all right." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "It's important."

Then came the alert. Scherezade rolled her eyes. Of course it did.

She scanned it in a second. She could read fast, thank you very much, and then shifted her hand to cover his arm, fingers brushing over the notification.

"Sommer's got it," she said, soft but certain. "And if she doesn't, my aunt probably already does. Not everything has to fall on you, Kael. We're on Spira. You're allowed to… let go. A little."

Not that either of them seemed likely to anytime soon.

"My grandfather Lorcan wanted to live forever," she added after a beat, her voice quieter, almost distracted. "He didn't know how to feed on the Force to maintain his youth, or other matters my family would later unlock. So he cloned himself. Jumped bodies every decade or two like he was changing suits. Made tweaks. Called it self-improvement," Her lips quirked faintly. "Eventually my grandmother divorced him and ran off with his best friend. He disappeared after that. No one really misses him."

It wasn't the story she meant to tell. Not yet. The deWinters were a mess and a half, and Kael didn't need all that context. But maybe a little weird honesty was better than pretending she understood all the right ways to help.

"What I mean is…" she trailed off for a second, picking the words with care. "Cloning a body? That's just… tissue. Copying the DNA of the original body. It's not inherently a tragedy. So I don't get why it hit you and Sommer like this. Not really. But…"

She hesitated.

This part was riskier. But letting them both unravel over something she might be able to help with? That somehow felt worse.

"I can try something," she said, this time quicker, before she lost the nerve. "If Sommer's willing, I can use a blood sample to trace the original DNA signature. Might not be fast. Might not be easy. But it's something. And I'll be more than happy to help."

Because that was what you did for family. Not blood family, but the family you chose. And no, she hadn't chosen Kael yet. But Sommer had already decreed that she'd been chosen by her. Unless she'd read the situation totally wrong and was about to get rejected.

She glanced up at him again, just for a moment. Quiet, thoughtful, the edge of something almost tender in her voice.

"But I'd still rather you let me carry a little of it with you."



Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael let out a slow breath that wasn't quite a sigh—more like the first full exhale he'd allowed himself in hours. Maybe days. He felt Scherezade's warmth beside him, not just her hand in his or her head against his shoulder, but something more grounding. Intentional. Solid. She didn't flinch away from the dark, didn't treat him like he was broken. She just… stayed.


That meant more than she could know.

"You're right," he murmured. "We've both been holding too much."

He gave her a look, quiet and a little worn, but grateful. "Thank you. For offering to help. And for not making it weird."

His thumb brushed against her fingers as if committing the moment to memory. Then, eyes still on hers, he added with a trace of a smile, "Sommer and I… we've been through a lot, but I think this shook her in a way even she hasn't processed yet. I know the science is common, but… the idea that someone could manufacture her? That her life might not be hers?" His jaw tensed, then softened. "I think it chipped at something sacred. And if it hurt her, it hurt me."

He swallowed once, then laughed under his breath.

"I came back to the Gilded Veil thinking I was going to reconnect with Sommer. Rebuild some of what we lost. And I did." He tilted his head toward Scherezade with a smile that was finally honest, finally open. "But somewhere in that, I found you. Or maybe… you found me. And ever since, I've been thinking about you."

A pause. Then he grinned, the rakish light flickering in his eyes again.

"But if I keep going down that road, I'm gonna start sounding like a ballad played on the wrong tempo."

He tapped his wrist comm lightly and then gestured toward the room's sleek holopanel.

"Now that—" he said, standing up and striding over to it with a mischievous air, "—controls the music." He pressed a few glowing runes, and a faint rhythm—something jazzy, bold, with a deep, inviting groove—began to pulse through the suite.

With zero hesitation, Kael popped open the top buttons of his shirt and tossed a sideways look over his shoulder.

"C'mon, deWinter. Let's make your grandfather roll over in his cloning tank. We're on Spira, the drinks are within arm's reach, and we have at least a few minutes before someone else blows something up."

He struck a mock-sensual pose, one eyebrow raised, as the music swelled.

"I'm officially letting go. You in? And well talk after about how you can help me...In that way.. But right now I want you in this way.."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She hadn't expected him to say any of that. Not really. Not the gratitude. Not the honesty. And especially not the part that cracked her chest open like a geode and poured warmth into places she didn't remember keeping cold.

Her fingers twitched against his. Reflexive, as if they could hold the moment in place.

"I wasn't trying to find anyone," she said quietly, the words sliding out before she could make them prettier. "I was just… Moving around. Seeing what stuck from fourty years ago. Cause a bunch of chaos." She tilted her head toward him, half a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "But then there was you. And you, Kael… You stuck," she chuckled, "Sticky Kael."

He moved, and the music rose, and Scherezade blinked back the sting behind her eyes, trading it for something brighter. More dangerous.

"Oh no," she said, pushing up from the couch and following the motion like a predator stalking a beat. "You do not get to start talking about feelings and press the seduction playlist in the same breath. That's cheating. I'm the only one allowed to cheat!"

Her boots clicked softly against the floor as shot up from the couch and circled him, half challenge, half dance. The lights caught in the strands of her hair, which seemed to shimmer more pale than brown now, threaded with the chaos she'd been born from.

She stopped just behind him, close enough to speak against his shoulder.

"I'm in," she murmured. "For the music. The drinks. The dance…" she grinned, "and you."

Then she reached past him, not for the comm, but for the drink with the glittery swirl, the one that looked like it had been poured straight out of a nebula. She held it up between them, the glow catching the mischief in her eyes.

"But be warned," she said, voice velvet-smooth now, "if you keep dancing like that…"

Her free hand skimmed the edge of his shirt, barely brushing as she breathed in, her lips only an aspirin's width away from his.

"…I might not stop at just the music."

Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael's breath hitched.

For a heartbeat, he just stared at her—at the shimmer in her hair, the galaxy drink glowing in her fingers, the gleam in her eyes that dared him to lose control. She circled him like sin wrapped in silk, and he didn't flinch, didn't blink. He welcomed it.

He turned just as she lowered the glass, her final words like a loaded trigger.

His hand slid around her waist fast, firm—pulling her back flush against him. His lips found the curve of her ear, voice low, threaded with heat and humor, a growl barely tamed.

"The devil," he whispered, teeth grazing the shell of her ear, "is in my pants."

Then he bit. Soft, sharp. Just enough to make her gasp if she wasn't expecting it.

His hand spread over her stomach, possessive. The other brushed the drink out of her hand and placed it on the side table like it was fragile—because what came next wouldn't be.

But just before he could turn her fully around, a chime echoed faintly from the front entry of the suite.

Kael didn't hear it.

He was too far gone, breath ghosting down her neck now, as he whispered something unintelligible, possibly a prayer, possibly a promise. His fingers curled slightly against her hip like he was anchoring himself. Like she was the only thing real in a galaxy he wasn't sure how to carry anymore.

The chime rang again.

Still—he didn't move

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She didn't gasp.

She moaned. It was quiet and indulgent but very much there, as if his teeth had struck something vital and sacred. Her hand slid over his, keeping it pressed to her, as if she could fuse the moment to her skin.

"You're cheating," she breathed, voice laced with delight. "I like it."

She was turning toward him, ready to close that impossible sliver of space between their mouths, when her body suddenly froze. Knock knock. So faint it was almost nothing. But she heard it. Felt it in the back of her mind like a needle sliding in sideways.

Another beat passed. Knock-knock again.

Scherezade exhaled and leaned in, ready to devour with Kael.

But didn't.

Instead, her fingers trailed down his jaw, featherlight, then dipped away entirely as she turned and padded, languid and predator-smooth, toward the suite's entrance. She already knew from Kael's lack of even the tiniest physical response that he hadn't heard it either of the knocks.

"Stay warm for me, sweetheart," she sighed.

Scherezade opened the door just wide enough to retrieve the envelope. Heavy stock, no markings. No return. Her name on it, nothing else. She studied it, lips parted in thought, the warmth of Kael's hands still burning on her skin. Behind her, she could almost hear his breath, feel the gravity of him pulling her back in. But instead, she held the letter up between two fingers like a peace offering. Or a challenge.

"Someone wants to meet me," she said, tone unreadable, frowning. "2300. Tonight."

She paused, and then her mouth slowly curled into a wicked grin.

"Swear to the Force, I've never been part of the Black sun or anything like it," she laughed, "do I look like someone who gets hired?"

With a shake of her head, Scherezade carelessly tossed the letter to the floor, and pressed her body against Kael's again.

"Where were we," she muttered as her lips found his neck.

Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael flinched at her lips on his neck—not from fear or discomfort, but the kind of jolt that sent sparks down his spine and short-circuited rational thought. His hand gripped her waist again like muscle memory, pulling her in tighter.


"The devil…" he murmured, breath ragged, "something, something… pants…"


A laugh—low, dizzy—bubbled out of him, half-delirious with the heat she'd left burning through his bloodstream. Then he tilted his head back just enough to catch her eyes, heart hammering behind his ribs like a prisoner desperate to be let out.


"you ever been to a gambling den?" he asked, voice rasped with velvet. "Because I swear… I just wagered everything."


His thumb brushed the edge of her jaw.


"And I won you."


His smile twisted at the edges—not smug, not cocky. Just full. Full of awe, and disbelief, and the way his pulse wouldn't stop galloping like she'd shattered something inside him just by saying his name like that.


Then—softer, more curious, caught somewhere between desire and wonder—he asked:


"Where'd you go so fast?"


He wasn't talking about the door. Not really.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Her body purred happily at his touch. She didn't want to talk, didn't want to consider, didn't want anything than this moment in this time. She pushed her cheek deeper into his hand, her eyes closing as she let the sensation take her over.

"Not now," she murmured, and the rest was history.

~~~​

It was a few hours later. Scherezade felt as though her body was radiating in the joy of the day. She could've been a moon on some beautiful planet. Kael's scent was everywhere around her, and she couldn't stop breathing for a single instant because she wanted to keep smelling it. It was better than anything else she could think of.

Force, she could stay that way forever.

Her gaze drifted ever so slightly. They were still on the floor, clothes discarded somewhere, but something had drawn her attention. There it was. The letter she'd almost entirely forgotten about, still on the floor where she'd tossed it earlier.

Her chest rose with a quiet sight. The world outside was stupid and hadn't realized it was supposed to stop spinning so she could continue to enjoy something beautiful for a while.

With the Force, she called the note to her, careful not to wake Kael. The parchment was cool now. She unfolded it slowly and reread it; the coordinates, the time.

With a tiny grunt, she tossed it away again. Whoever it was, they could wait until she was ready. And she made no guaranteed she ever would be. Being here with Kael meant more to her than someone who thought they could buy her chaos, as though it was bottled and available. She had more fun things to consider. Namely, the man whose limbs were still messy in hers.

But… She was starting to get hungry.



Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael shifted with the slow, easy grace of someone utterly content, his body warm and languid as he rolled toward her. One hand slid beneath her thigh, lifting it gently over his hip, his skin still humming with the heat of her. The move was possessive in the most intimate way—not to claim, but to connect. To say mine without words.

He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes still half-lidded with sleep and satisfaction.

"Do you think we could stay like this forever?" he whispered, his voice low and hoarse, the kind of question that came not from fantasy, but from fragile, unspoken hope.

His fingers drew lazy circles on the back of her knee, the world outside the suite reduced to something unimportant. That envelope? A speck. The galaxy? Distant noise. Right here—her skin on his, the scent of them still tangled in the air, the silence that didn't demand filling—this was the only thing that mattered.

"I mean…" he smiled faintly, eyes now locked with hers, "we have drinks. We've got no pants. You've got that chaotic magic, and I've got… whatever this thing is you like about me."

He nudged her nose with his. "Feels like we've got everything we need."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She didn't open her eyes right away. Didn't need to. The warmth of his breath against her skin, the shape of the words that came out of that delicious mouth of his… ours, forever, everything… All of it settled over her like a second blanket, thicker than anything she could've conjured with the Force.

A hum escaped her, low and lazy, as she pressed herself closer, letting his leg hook hers with ease.

"Forever's a long time," she murmured, finally cracking one eye open. "But I'd give it a shot. You know… for scientific reasons."

Her fingers trailed lightly over the curve of his shoulder, tracing idle shapes like she was etching the moment into muscle and memory both.

"Besides," she grinned, mischievous and a little wicked, "I haven't broken anything in hours. Clearly, you're some kind of calming influence. The galaxy ought to be quacking with fear."

Her lips brushed his in something more nuzzle than kiss. "So tell me, Kael. What is that thing I like about you? Because I'm starting to think it's…" She almost said 'everything'. But she didn't. She paused, considering her words carefully. "…the way you're really really bad at sabbac."


Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael let out a mock gasp, hand splayed dramatically over his chest like she'd just stabbed him with a lightsaber made of sass.


"Wow. Wow, Scherezade," he groaned. "You take a man to the stars, let him bask in your glory, and then you bring up sabbac? My one weakness. You're cruel."


He buried his face in the crook of her neck for a second, muffling a laugh there before brushing his lips against her collarbone, slow and amused.


"You know," he continued, lifting his head, "I let you win.. It was all part of a very elaborate long con to… uh…" He glanced down at their entangled bodies, grinning. "...achieve this exact outcome. Clearly, it worked. I'm a sabbac genius."


But then the joke settled, like foam drifting back into water. Kael's gaze lingered on her longer now, his fingers shifting from playful tracing to something more reverent. He followed the slope of her waist, the dip of her ribs, and the rise of her hip with deliberate care—like he was trying to memorize her through touch alone.


"I think…" he said, voice quieter now, "you like that I see you. Not the legend. Not the wild thing they whisper about. Just you. The woman who stares at the sky like it owes her answers. Who breaks things when she's bored and loves a good dish."


He brushed his knuckles under her chin, guiding her gaze to his.


"And I think I'm starting to really like the fact that you're letting me."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She might not have been wearing clothes in that moment, but when Kael said all the things that he had, in the way that he had, it made her feel more naked than at any other point in her life. Not just skin-deep, but soul-deep, as though he'd peeled back all the careful armor and looked straight into the core of her without flinching.

And she hadn't flinched either.

Her entire body tingled, a soft hum from head to toe, joy settling into her bones like something permanent. There was no compulsion to flee, no itch under her skin demanding escape. Just… him. Just this.

"C'mon, pretty Kael," she grinned, breaking the intensity with that familiar smirk as she began to untangle her limbs from his. Her body protested, wanting to stay wrapped up in him, breathing him in forever, but she pushed through it with a dramatic sigh. "I'm cruel, but not so cruel as to let you starve until I can no longer take earthly pleasures from you."

She leaned in, brushing her lips against the corner of his mouth in a teasing promise of what could happen again later, then rolled away and up from the floor with the grace of someone still high on joy. Her hair was a wild tangle, her skin marked by the evidence of shared time, and she didn't bother covering any of it. She didn't feel the need to.

Padding barefoot across the room, she rummaged through the kitchen with a strange giddiness in her chest. Kael's scent still clung to her, warm and grounding. There was food, somewhere. She was sure of it. Probably.

Halfway through opening what looked suspiciously like a ration drawer, her gaze caught on the folded piece of paper she'd let go earlier but had somehow ended up just beside the caf machine earlier.

The note.

Her body stilled, hand hovering over a packet of something unidentifiable. She didn't move for a second. Then, without looking over her shoulder, she spoke.

"Hey… Kael?" Her voice was lighter than before, but edged with something quieter. Not quite concern. Not yet.

"So like… Before we… You know," she mumbled, "And I said not now? So someone delivered this." She let the note fly to him. "I was going to ignore it but it's now popped up a third time so I think the galaxy is trying to ram into me with a message. Do you recognize anything about it? The font, the paper? Anything?"

Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael rose from the floor, brushing imaginary dust from his trousers even though he didn't care how messy he looked. He took the note, unfolding it with careful fingers, and held it up to the light filtering through the loft's windows.

"2300 hours… and no signature," he mused, voice low. "The stock is heavy grade, but plain—no watermark, nothing that screams legit corporate. The font's utilitarian, almost smuggler‑style. My bet? Some minor crime syndicate trying to recruit—or test you."

He folded the note back into a neat square and met her eyes over the counter. "Do you plan on going alone? Could be a chance to dig up intel—if you're willing to risk it. Or it could be a trap."

Kael set the envelope down and brushed a hand through his hair. "If you decide to go, let me run some recon. I'll deploy a little spyware drone—nothing they'll notice until it's too late. We can see who's waiting, where exactly, and what kind of firepower they've got."

He offered her a crooked smile, half‑teasing, half‑protective. "Whatever you choose, I've got your six. But I'd rather run this play together."

He laughed and pointed to the small kitchenette. "Push the panel in the wall. Don't ask why it looks like something out of a poor spy flick. It opens and there's a cooling unit full of beautiful meats. I can whip something up if your peckish."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Her laughter was quiet but full, vibrating softly through her chest as she watched him dust himself off like a gentleman and turn full analyst on the note. Force, he really was good at that. She didn't interrupt. Just watched him, chin on her hand, green eyes following his every word like they were a trail of breadcrumbs meant to lead her somewhere deeper than the mystery on the paper.

When he finished and pointed her toward the meats, she groaned dramatically. "You had actual meat this entire time and let me survive on whatever that dry ration bar was yesterday? Kael, I may never forgive you."

But she still padded barefoot to the panel in the wall, pushed it open, and let out a very audible "oooooh" of appreciation.

A moment later, she had her back to the counter, holding up a package of something that looked smoked and dangerous. "This. I don't care what you do with it, just make it edible and slightly charred on the outside. And don't you dare add fruit. I'm still emotionally recovering from the pear incident."

She let him handle the meat any way he wanted to. It was refreshing, for once, not having been the person who had to handle. Scherezade had more or less cooked for everybody for most of her existence. Mostly for herself, but later for her sister too. She was also the one among them who dedicated an entire room to preserving various meats from around the galaxy.

"You think it's a test? That someone's watching me?" she asked quietly, and though the question had been for Kael, she answered it without giving a moment's breath, "You're probably right. I've been seen, haven't I? Not just by you. It was a matter of time."

She looked at the note, still sitting there like it had teeth.

"Fine! I'll go," she said at last. "If it's a trap, I'll spring it. If it's an invitation, I want to know who thinks I'm worth the ink."

She tilted her head, grinning a little. "But you're coming too, recon drones and all. I like the way you work when you're sneaky."

And then, more softly, "I trust you."

There was a beat of silence before she added with mock suspicion, "...This is still part of our getaway vacation though, right?"




Kaelon Virex

 

[Kaelon Virex]

Kael grinned as he took the smoked, dangerous-looking package from her and turned toward the small cooking station, already lighting up the compact grill unit. "This? This is gonna be poetry. Meat sonnets. Grilled perfection. And no fruit, promise. I'd rather wrestle a rancor than bring up the pear incident again."

He tossed her a playful wink over his shoulder before sliding the protein onto the heat, a satisfying sizzle filling the air as smoke curled upward. His naked “apple” cheeks were in view, forearms working as he moved with the casual grace of someone used to turning nothing into something edible. It was clear he'd done this before, maybe too often.

At her question—You think it's a test?—Kael's jaw tensed just a touch, though he didn't look away from the meat right away. Instead, he flipped a cut with practiced ease before finally speaking, voice lower now.

"Random invitations… aren't always random," he said, glancing back at her with something knowing in his eyes. "Back in the old days, someone sends you a location without context, it's either because they want something from you… or they want you dead. Sometimes both."

He grabbed a small tin of spice and dusted the meat in an aromatic blend before continuing. "I got one like that once on Taris. Just a card with a time, a sector code, and no name. I almost tossed it, but curiosity and pride are a hell of a drug." A quick smile. "Turned out it was an old contact testing if I still had 'edge.' I walked into a setup, flipped the game, walked out with a new ship and five credits to my name."

He slid the nearly-finished skewers onto a plate and carried them over to where she sat, setting the dish down with a small flourish.

"You walking into it now? It's probably not just about you. It's about what you can do. That power of yours—the way you move, fight, think. People see that. Even when you don't want them to."

Then, more lightly, he leaned in, nose brushing the tip of hers. "But yeah, it's definitely still part of our getaway vacation. We'll just call this the 'mysterious rendezvous with potential ambushes and grilled meat' portion of the itinerary."

He straightened, offering her a bite off one of the skewers with a slight tilt of his head. "You trust me. I trust you. That's the deal. Besides…" A grin curled on his lips. "I like the way you work when you're dangerous.