The Godless Matron is home to many, resembling a micro-society for those who wish to live outside the typical 'rule' of the galaxy. The Lucrehulk-class battleship's massive hangars have been converted into dwellings as a result. Chute Town is the most notable of these makeshift towns. Many shops and storefronts have been constructed to take advantage of the higher volume of foot traffic. In addition, many ships and crews arrive into Chute Town to sell their "well-earned" commodities, weapons, or artifacts. It is commonplace to find the best and the worst gear the galaxy has to offer, it is only a matter of how big your pocket book is. The 'streets' are patrolled regularly by the crew of the Matron itself, leaving would-be miscreants to be more wary, lest they find themselves on the receiving end of a pirate's sense of justice.

It is built mostly out of spare durasteel panels from derelict ships, dismantled machinery, or any other source or material the pirates could scavenge. It spans the length of the massive portside hangar of the Matron, reaching from it's heavily protected reactor — hidden behind triple-reinforced blast doors and a guard retinue — all the way to the hangar entrance where the many incoming ships unload their cargo. It is more than a mile long, over five hundred feet wide and up to three stories tall, covering most of the floor. Chute Town's streets are a miniature maze, weaving in between buildings on several levels. Verticality is key for the masses of shops and bars to operate without interfering with one another. The main street is nicknamed Murder alley, mostly because all the weapon shops are prominently opened there.

Illumination banks are staggered along the walkways and buildings to provide enough light for the society to function. Still, the 'streets' are left dim with a low hanging fog built up from the collective humidity of so many people in one space. For those calling it their home, there is no such thing as 'off hours'. A large crowd bustles along at all hours, an exotic assortment of individuals from countless planets and the warring gangs that divvy up the territory within. It's the perfect place for those looking to disappear in the crowd.

Turel Sorenn navigated the crowded side-street with practiced ease as he pretended to browse. Even at this late hour, Chute Town teemed with activity. It was a place where fortunes could be made if you had the skill to do it.

One such person was Malick Katar, a Devaronian who specialized in cybernetics. His keen eye for detail, cutthroat business practices, and perfectionist nature had resulted in a steady stream of business that had allowed him to make a name for himself. Today he was known as one of the foremost cybernetic dealers in the sector.If anyone was looking to sell a large quantity of Collective cybernetics, the Devaronian would likely be the first person they would try.

He frowned as a trio of Rodians obscured his view of the shop entrance as they paused to examine the fried slugs on a stick from a food vendor. He thumbed his communicator to hail his MagnaGuard, who was positioned atop a nearby building.

“Yes, honey?” replied GR-1N-DR in a decidedly effeminate voice.

“Do you see anything?” Turel spoke quietly into the comm as he moved to get a better view of the door.

“Oh my stars, yes! Did you see that 3PO unit that passed by a few minutes ago? Don't get me wrong, I like a little chrome, but not the entire chassis! It was so tacky I just about died!”

The Sentinel shook his head before saying, “I meant, have you seen anyone approaching the shop?”

“Just the usual suspects, honey. Including a guy with the ugliest hand I have ever seen. Seriously, honey, who wakes up in the morning and decides 'I am gonna get a gold-plated cybernetic hand'? Ew!”

Turel took a deep breath, willing himself to have patience with his easily distracted droid. As he opened his mouth to redirect the MagnaGuard, GR-1N-DR spoke up suddenly. “Oh, hold on honey, I think I've got something. Check out the redhead going into the shop. Love, love, love the hair, but those are the tackiest boots I have ever seen!”

Turel turned to look. Sure enough, a redheaded Human was speaking into the wall comm, talking to someone inside the shop. She had no cybernetics that he could see. Could that be the target?

Deciding to err on the side of caution, the Sentinel changed course and moved to intercept the woman, but the crowd made it difficult to navigate the narrow street. Before he could reach her, the door slid open and she disappeared into the shop.

Turel paused as he considered his next course of action. He could fight his way into the shop but quickly decided against it. Such an action would be unwise, especially considering how little information he had to go on. With a sigh of annoyance, he leaned against a nearby wall and settled in to wait.

---

Lucine was feeling pleased with herself as she emerged from Malick's about an hour later. There was nothing she enjoyed more than taking a bad situation and turning it to her advantage. And what could be worse than being put in charge of disposing of the Collective soldiers who had died in Arconan territory?

Satsi probably thought she was punishing me, she thought with a smile of amusement. Apparently, the Consul did not realize that Lucine didn't have a problem with gore, especially when there was profit to be made. After 'retrieving' the cybernetics from the fallen soldiers, it had been a simple matter of finding the appropriate vendor. The Devaronian had indeed been interested in the cybernetics, and it had only taken a little arm twisting to get a decent deal.

She paused just outside the door, glancing up and down the side-street as she considered how she was going to spend her newfound wealth. She had so many plans to finance, but she could not deny the fact that she really wanted to go shopping.

“Busy day?”

A familiar Human pushed away from a nearby wall and approached her. Recognition set in as she studied his facial features and neatly groomed salt-and-pepper hair. Now, what in the world is Turel Sorenn doing here? “Always, darling. May I help you?” she replied with a charming smile.

The Sentinel smirked. “Oh, I do hope so. You see, I'm looking for someone who's selling black market Collective cybernetics.”

Lucine cursed inwardly, even as she carefully maintained an expression of polite curiosity. “Are you? That sounds most interesting.” She drew upon the Force, using it to lend weight to her words. “Perhaps you should look somewhere else? I am not the person you are looking for,” she said with a dismissive gesture.

A look of confusion passed over the Sentinel's features as he studied her carefully. He then grinned. “Nice try, but I think you are exactly who I'm looking for.” He drew back his jacket just enough to reveal a blackened Westar-35. “How about if we continue this conversation somewhere a little more private?”

Her emerald eyes took in the blaster as she drew back a step. “Oh, dear.” She hastily scanned the street, looking for anything or anyone that could be useful to her.“Well, I would, darling, but it would not do to be seen with someone of your reputation.”

She raised her voice an octave. “Considering the size of the bounty on your head, I am surprised you are willing to show your face in a place like this.” Her words drew looks of interest from a number of people, including a Mandalorian browsing vibroblades at a nearby stall. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he moved away from the stall and made a beeline for them.

“Bounty? What are you talking about?” Turel said with a perplexed look. He glanced around, realizing how much attention her words had drawn. He then felt the barrel of a blaster press into his back.

“I could stand to hear a little more as well,” the Mandalorian said in a gravelly voice.

Turel sighed inwardly. Of course this could not be easy. “You’re making a mistake, friend,” he said at last.

“I’m not your— “ The Mandalorian’s words were cut off as the Sentinel whirled around, drawing upon the Force to speed up his movements. Before the bounty hunter could react, Turel grabbed him by the arm while lashing out with an open-handed strike at a weak point at his shoulder. The blaster dropped from the Mandalorian's suddenly numb fingers.

The Consul glanced over his shoulder in time to see Lucine weaving through the crowd, heading toward Murder Alley. “Damn it!” He turned to follow, but the Sith already had a good head start. “Grinder! Move to intercept!”

The disgruntled Mandalorian knocked Turel away by jerking his shoulder and right arm sharply forward. The bulky male stumbled backward, his eyes seething with rage. The Jedi took a step back and swiftly readied his own blaster pistol.

“I’ll gut ya like a fish and take ‘yer bleedin’ carcass to whoever’s payin’,” the Mando spat, his command of galactic basic slipping with his calm.

The armored man raised his left arm up and tilted his fist downward, taking aim with a wrist-mounted weapon of some sort. Turel noticed the nozzle of a flamethrower and emphatically activated his blaster’s laser scope, resting the red dot at the Mando’s chestplate.

“Last warning, lower your weapon and walk away,” the Sentinel stated calmly but with resolve. By this time every sentient in the immediate vicinity of the street was watching, waiting for the stalemate to resolve itself, willing one of the combatants to land a killing blow.

“BURN SCHUTTA!!”

The Jedi dove to his left side without aid of the Force, pulling the trigger as he started to move. A blue ring of stun blast struck the Mandalorian assailant, who crumbled to the street unconscious before little more than a half-meter spurt of flame could come out of his weapon.

“I don’t have time for this,” Turel muttered to himself as he stood up and dusted himself off. He turned to the onlookers, “Free mando weapons to whomever wants them. Better hurry before he wakes up though.”

The Sentinel pulled the hood up on his ashy cloak and moved swiftly toward murder row, desperate to escape the gaping stares of onlookers. He pulled out his comlink and keyed it up, “Grinder, what’s your status?”

---

Murder alley was known for its weapon shops, but as the main thoroughfare in Chute town it held a variety of other merchants and drinking establishments. Luxury goods could even be procured if one knew where to look. Lucine just so happened to be one of those well-informed individuals. There was an out of the way clothing and accessory shop a few blocks down that catered to individuals with less than conventional appetites. The Qel-Droman had intended on browsing that particular store anyway, she had credits to burn and needed a place to lay low for a bit.

The Den of Iniquity, as the shop was called, was located just off the main road behind a thick durasteel door. The establishment was ran by a pair of Twi’lek sisters who had a strong preference for female clientele. Few men were allowed and those who were had to have an existing client vouch for them. It was a perfect hiding place for Lucine to pass the time and evade Turel, should he have survived the Mandalorian. She would have been thoroughly disappointed if he had fallen so short of his reputation as to meet his end at the hands of a brute like that.

The red-haired woman did a quick scan of her surroundings before going to the side alley that held the shop’s entrance. She stopped and closed her eyes for a moment before knocking, letting her consciousness spread to the surrounding area. The Force was a like a cacophony of emotion with all the sentients in the immediate vicinity, it was hard for Lucine to make out anything specific, but a Force user would have stood out. Satisfied, she opened her eyes and proceeded to knock on the metal door.

A feminine hand reached out from seemingly nowhere and grabbed her wrist before she could complete her first knock. Lucine spun around defensively, not used to being utterly surprised in such a manner. She was even more surprised when she saw who was standing behind her, Morgan Sorenn, the Shroud Queen herself.

“What’s a,” Morgan paused to look Lucine up and down in a suggestive manner before continuing, “fine creature like yourself shopping in a place like this? You seem like a woman of taste, I like that.” The Herald loosened her grip on the Qel-Droman’s wrist and slowly brushed her hand up the redhead’s arm to her shoulder. “You should come with me to my quarters and we can find you something, more suited to your form.”

Lucine’s mind raced, this was entirely unexpected but presented a unique opportunity. It wasn’t everyday one managed to secure an audience with the Captain of the Matron. But something was off, she couldn’t quite place her finger on it but something was off about Morgan’s appearance. Lucine had very detailed memories of what the Herald looked like and things were lining up.

“Oh, is that all you want to show me in your quarters?” Lucine inquired playfully, going along with the situation for now.

Morgan brought her hand up from Lucine’s shoulder and placed it on her cheek. “I can tell you’re a woman who’s never satisfied, I’d like to rectify that.”

The tattoos, the the tatoos on Morgan’s bustline are wrong. A detail that would escape most, but not Lucine. She focused her concentration through the Force and blinked her eyes. Turel appeared before her, the illusion shattered. She was mildly ashamed she almost fell for such an obvious ploy.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to take a raincheck darling,” Lucine slowly pulled away from “Morgan.” “For when the real Morgan is around.” She darted back into the street.

Lucine sprinted as fast as she could but she heard Turel shouting in Morgan’s voice. “That red-headed woman has stolen from the Shroud Syndicate, 10,000 creds to the first person to bring her to me alive and intact!”

“Oh great,” the Qel-Droman thought as she kept running through the street only for a rainbow colored magnaguard to drop down in front of her from a nearby roof.

“How do you run in those shoes?” The droid inquired as it ignited it’s electrostaff.

“Actually, they are remarkably comfortable,” Lucine replied as she skidded to a halt a few feet in front of the multi-chromatic MagnaGuard. “I do not suppose that if I told you where I got them then you would let me go free?”

“Honey, please,” GR-1N-DR scoffed as it spun the electro-staff with a flourish. “As if I'd want to dress like a depressed hooker!”

Lucine narrowed her eyes at the catty droid, before darting a quick glance over her shoulder. 'Morgan's' offer had attracted an undue amount of attention; an unsettling number of unsavory types were eyeing her greedily while reaching for their weapons. So, he can extend his illusions to multiple people? Impressive!

The sound of a clanking step in front of her interrupted her thoughts, and she jumped back in time to barely avoid a blow from the MagnaGuard's weapon. She shifted slightly to the left, trying to edge around the droid so that she could keep an eye on her would-be pursuers, but the MangaGuard simply altered its stance to bar her movement.

Her mind raced as she considered her options. The nearest of her pursuers was a hulking Gamorrean who was currently striding toward them, carrying a massive vibro-axe over one shoulder. He used his bulk to push through the crowd, meaning he would be upon them momentarily. Instinctively, she wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her lightsaber but quickly released it. There was no telling how this crowd would react if she were to start waving it around. Best to simply let this play out for the moment.

“Well, I could see how that would clash with the walking-eyesore look you currently have going on,” Lucine replied at last as the Gamorrean closed the distance.

“Back off, ya walkin' tin can, tha' bounty's mine,” the porcine humanoid grunted as he waved his axe threateningly toward GR-1N-DR.

“What did you just say?” the MagnaGuard gasped, his attention focused entirely on Lucine.

“I said you look like an eyesore,” the Sith replied in an offhand voice as she moved slightly to place herself closer to the Gamorrean. “Like your chassis was decorated by a blind two-year-old who has consumed too much glitterstim.”

“Honey, I'll have you know that I look amazing,” the MagnaGuard retorted.

“Oy! Are you two listening ta me?” the Gamorrean bellowed.

“Amazingly like you were caught in a paint factory explosion,” Lucine amended. “Really, darling, do you have any idea how incredibly tacky you look?”

“As if I am going to take fashion advice from some tart who thinks black is the only color on the spectrum!” GR-1N-DR huffed.

At last, the Gamorrean had had enough. With a grunt, he hefted his vibro-axe and swung it toward the droid.

“Rude! Can't you see we were having a conversation?” the MagnaGuard said as it brought its weapon up to defend. Vibro-axe clashed against the electro-staff with a crash and a flare of sparks before GR-1N-DR managed to shove the bounty-hunter away. The droid swung its head in time to see the Sith hurrying away. “And you! Get back here so I can beat some fashion sense into you!”

“Perhaps another time,” Lucine replied. She gave him a cheery wave before breaking into a run. The MagnaGuard cursed loudly, but before he could pursue, the Gamorrean gave a loud squealing battle cry even as he swung his vibro-axe once more. The droid quickly brought its staff to bear, deflecting the axe from its vital processors even as it left a long scratch along the side of its chassis.

“Ugh, this will take forever to buff out!” GR-1N-DR said as it whipped the staff around, landing a ringing blow alongside the Gamorrean’s head. It did not wait to see if its attack had any effect, instead turning to take off after the Sith.

Lucine wove through the crowd, moving as fast as she could despite the mass of humanity. She did not know how long it would take the droid to defeat the Gamorrean, but she figured it would be best to make haste. The rapidly approaching sound of metallic footsteps behind her warned her of pursuit, moments before the Force screamed a warning. She abruptly slowed her paced and ducked low as an electro-staff passed over her head, missing by a hair’s breadth.

“You are so very lucky you did not mess up my hair,” she told the MagnaGuard as it whirled around to face her.

“It would only be an improvement,” GR-1N-DR replied cattily.

“Please, darling, you cannot improve upon perfection,” Lucine said. She took a deep breath, feeling the icy touch of the Dark Side of the Force as she used it to augment her muscles. A quick glance over her shoulder proved that a couple of bounty hunters were catching up, including the huffing and puffing Gamorrean. “But you? The only improvement I could suggest would be to toss you into a trash compactor. At least you would be less annoying.”

“You’d know all about being annoying!” the MagnaGuard snapped as it swung its staff toward her.

The Sith spun away, moving around a Mandalorian that was slowing down to grab her. She used her momentum to push him toward the droid. The staff impacted upon his helmet with a loud crack before the Mandalorian crumbled to the ground.

“Not as much as one might think. But you are teaching me so very much,” Lucine said with a sweet smile.

“So, I gotta know. Does the smug schutta act manage to land you many dates? Because your looks sure aren’t doing anything for you.” The droid closed, aiming a quick strike toward her head. As she ducked, GR-1N-DR switched course, sweeping her feet out from under her. She fell, striking her head on the pavement.

“I will thank you to leave my personal life out of this!” Lucine snapped. She tried to ignore the ringing in her ears as she aimed a Force-augmented kick at the droid’s knee articulation. Her boot connected with a crunch that forced the MagnaGuard to shift its stance, even as it swung its staff in a downward arc. The Sith rolled, and the staff collided harmlessly with the pavement.

Hastily, Lucine got to her feet to see the Gamorrean standing a few feet away, trying to catch his breath. “Go get it, darling. You are sure to succeed,” the Sith told the porcine humanoid, offering him a nod of encouragement even as she worked to brush the dust off of her dress. The Gamorrean needed no further encouragement. He straightened and hefted his axe once more, before fixing a beady-eyed glare on GR-1N-DR.

The MagnaGuard’s photoreceptors turned toward the Gamorrean and it sniffed with disdain. “Oh, you again?”

The mercenary did not bother to reply. Instead it closed, bringing the vibro-axe down in a devastating overhead strike. GR-1N-DR moved to dodge but found its movements slowed by the damage Lucine had caused to its knee. Metal shrieked against metal as the blow landed solidly, sending the droid tumbling backward. It immediately began trying to right itself, despite its hampered movements.

Lucine allowed herself a small smile as she started to hurry away from the scene, only to find herself face to face with a Rodian, a Wookiee, and a rather dim-witted looking Human, each with weapons trained on her. Blast, I took too long in my escape!

“Well, looks like you caught me,” she said with more confidence than she felt as she raised her hands to prove that she was unarmed. None of the three bounty hunters spoke as the Human stepped forward and began to roughly pat her down for weapons. “There is no need for that, darling,” the Sith said with a touch of annoyance as she drew upon the Force and brought it to bear against the man's mind. “I do not have any weapons.”

The man's hand paused before it reached the lightsaber clipped to her belt. He hesitated, before withdrawing his hands. “She's not armed,” he growled to his companions before shoving her forward. They moved away from the Gamorrean and the MagnaGuard, who were still fighting.

They returned to the alley where Turel was waiting. The Human kept his weapon trained on her, while the other two stood guard against any who might try to steal their bounty.

Lucine offered the Warden a brilliant smile as she approached. “Long time no see, darling,” she purred, as if she was not being marched back to him at gunpoint. “Good work,” Turel said, maintaining his Shroud Queen illusion as he spoke to the trio of bounty hunters. “I'll take custody of the prisoner from here.”

“Sure, sure,” the Human said. “Just as soon as we get our money.”

“Ah,” Turel said after a brief pause as he did a quick assessment of how much cash he was carrying. “Yes, of course. 10,000 credits it is.”

Lucine raised an eyebrow, having caught the hesitation in his voice. “Only 10,000? But, darling, did you not say that it would be 10,000 credits to the first person who brought me to you? Why, by my count, it should be 30,000 credits.”

“Uh,” the Human cast a confused look at her before nodding his head vigorously. “Yeah. Yeah! 30,000 credits! ‘Coz there’s three of us!”

The Warden gave her a dark look. “Of course. I will give you the money as soon as we return to my ship.”

“Why not now?” Lucine asked innocently. “Surely 'The Shroud Queen' has easy access to that amount of funds. Unless, of course, you are not really The Shroud Queen.”

“Huh?” the mercenary looked at her blankly.

“That is not Morgan, darling,” Lucine said, her words laden with the Force. “Just a very convincing fake.”

The mercenary's eyes went blank for a moment before he leveled his blaster at Turel. “Who are you?”

“That is not necessary,” Turel said soothingly, allowing the Force to lend weight to his words. “I am exactly who I claim to be. And I will pay you the full amount just as soon as we get her aboard my personal ship.”

“Uh,” the man's eyes went glassy as Turel's words vied with Lucine's within his mind. His hesitation was enough to draw concerned looks from his companions.

“You okay, boss?” the Rodian asked. As he spoke, Lucine took advantage of their distraction to weave an illusion over the Warden, superimposing his actual image overtop of his own illusion within the Wookiee’s mind. The furry bounty hunter roared as Morgan's form seemed to shift and alter before his eyes, shifting to that of a bearded, middle-aged man, and aimed his bowcaster at the Warden.

“Now, there is no need for violence,” Turel said, slowly.

“I quite agree,” Lucine said. “How about if we all go to The Ball? Surely someone over there could clear things up.” As she spoke, she offered the Warden a small smirk.

Turel didn't understand Shyriiwook, but a roar accompanied by a bowcaster pointed in one’s face transcended language. It seemed that his disguise was faltering and the Jedi had a feeling the red-haired stranger had something to do with it. Her knowing smirk told the Sentinel that he had been thwarted yet again.

Turel’s eyes darted around the alley as he quickly assessed the situation. There were only two avenues of egress that he could see and the trio of thugs blocked one of them. He had zero intention of going to the Ball for an awkward, possibly dangerous, encounter with his Dark Councillor sister. Morgan wouldn't harm him under normal circumstances but she also wouldn't take kindly to Turel impersonating her and issuing bounties in her name. He'd likely end up in the Matron’s brig and Satsi would have to stage a breakout so Morgan could save face in front of the Dark Council. A headache all around.

In a practiced bit of sleight of hand, Turel raised his left palm out while carefully securing blinding powder from his belt with his right.

“Let's all just calm down, we'll sort this out at the Ball and everyone will get paid.”

Turel closed his eyes and threw the powder. BAMF. Cries of frustration and disorientation filled the alley. The Jedi opened his eyes and took off in his only avenue of escape as fast as he could. He noticed the mysterious female had also been caught by the powder’s effect. No longer having to concentrate on maintaining his sibling’s visage, Turel focused for a few seconds on his own body, calling on the Force to aid his leg muscles in running faster. When he reached what he felt was a safe distance, he pulled out his comlink to contact GR-1N-DR.

---

Lucine swore under her breath as her vision filled with red and slowly returned to normal. She had noticed Turel reaching into a bag of blinding powder a split second before he threw it and was able to close her eyes before getting the full blast of the item’s effect. She had immediately recognized the powder bag because she carried one herself.

The Jedi had fled the scene, which was a desirable outcome for her even if she found the thought of a confrontation between the Sorenn siblings amusing. Now she found herself alone in an alley with a human, a Rodian and a Wookie who would want to use Lucine to salvage some measure of profit from this venture. It was in her best interest to flee herself.

The Qel-Droman carefully moved past the now blinded thugs using her own limited vision and started in the opposite direction Turel had gone. There had been enough close calls on this mission, it was time to depart the Matron. Lucine made her way through the streets toward the docking bays.

---

Several minutes passed and Lucine was beginning to feel like she was home free. She relaxed and slowed her walk to a leisurely pace to better blend with the crowd. While her emerald eyes constantly darted across the street scanning for threats, she mentally began rehearsing the report she would give Satsi upon her return.

Lucine noticed GR-1N-DR approaching about 50 meters up the street in front of her. The droid didn't appear to have spotted her yet. The Sith abruptly diverted into a nearby side street to avoid detection.

That rustbucket really needs a less gaudy paint job if he wants to sneak up on people, Lucine thought with a smirk as she briskly proceeded along the alternate route.

She noticed a male human vagrant passed out beside a dumpster cuddling a bottle in a paper bag like it was a teddy bear of some kind. The man didn’t look familiar but something about him stuck out in Lucine's mind in a way she couldn't quite place. The man was out cold so she continued anyway, wishing to avoid her new sassy droid friend.

Lucine had only taken a few steps when a warning from the Force shot across her mind. She spun around just in time to see Turel standing where the hobo had been aiming a blaster at her. She tried to move but wasn't fast enough to avoid a blue ring of stun energy heading her way.

---

Lucine awoke restrained to a chair in the middle of an empty cargo hold of a Corellian freighter of some kind. She couldn't tell the exact model. What the Sith could tell was that the ship was under way.

Turel sat directly across from her with a rather smug look on his face.

“Good morning Lucine, glad to see you're awake.”

“You sure know how to make a lady feel welcome Councillor Sorenn,” the Qel-Droman spat with the polite biting sarcasm she had perfected over a lifetime.

“Well I try my best to be a gentleman, but I had to take certain precautions. I'm sure you understand.”

“So I'm to be your prisoner then?”

Turel smirked. “Hardly. You'll get your things back when we reach Selen.” He let that little revelation linger in the air before continuing. “I told Satsi whatever they were paying you wasn't enough. You really gave Grinder and I a hard time out there. Few people can match me at using Force illusions.”

“Thank you. But since you are returning me to the Shadow Lord, are the restraints really necessary?”

Turel got up and liberated Lucine from her bonds. “No, they are not. I was rather relieved you were Arconan and not working for Plagueis or something. I feared someone that skilled in illusion was a disciple of Selika’s.”

Lucine was almost insulted, “Luck you.”

Turel opened the door leading to the rest of the ship with an exaggerated bow, “After you milady.”

“Thank you good sir,” Lucine retorted with a curtsy.

“Can I interest you in a game of Derajik to pass the time? I have a business proposition for you.”

“Oh?”

“I’d like to work with you in the future.”