The Citadel Cantina is located on the second level of the Arcona Citadel. The bar itself is small on the surface, but possess an expansive selection thanks to a clever servos-operated storage system built into the underside of the bar. A bartender only need punch in what drink they require (other than the typical stock) and within a minute the bottle is distributed transparisteel display panels. Relaxed, soothing music plays over the speakers, and a big-screen display terminal with access to the holonet sits across from a series of comfortable lounge chairs and stools.

The Cantina is full-service and is manned by a gruff, one-eyed Rodian named Mick. Mick is a grumpy, former sergeant who served in the Arcona Armed Forces years and years ago. He goes about his business with a series of grunts, gestures, and monosyllabic dialogue. Though a man of few words, he is a genius of alcoholic beverages and mixology. Mick has a very strict rule about no fighting or brawling within the Cantina. The mess hall, on the other hand, is a different story.

The Cantina opens up into a dedicated mess-hall that can hold up to a hundred sentients before it starts to feel claustrophobic. Open at all hours, the mess-hall has been sanctioned as an acceptable area for members to settle aggressions and other frustrations. The tables are all firmly bolted into the halls floor to avoid being thrown over, and are crafted out of durable material that has held it’s own throughout the years. At the far end of the mess-hall there is a pair of double-doors that lead to the kitchen and storage area. The mess-hall is maintained by a full staff of droids, and occasionally a new recruit who has earned the ire of the Rollmaster. And sometimes even the Rollmaster himself, depending on the Shadow Lady's mood.

The cantina was loud, smoky, and filled with people, as was usual it seemed. Stres'trong'armis, or as those familiar with him knew him, Strong, had mixed feelings about the relocation of his Master back to Selen. Port Ol'val had been a hive of smugglers, pirates, and ne'er do wells but it had a certain charm that grew on you, and the confined nature meant a certain level of civility was expected to keep the entire station from becoming a charnel house. Selen didn't have that, and from the number of brooding, dark-robed figures that seemed to gravitate to any darkened corner of the bar, it lacked levity as well.

Except for a table near the back of the room, not far from the music machine that was blaring loudly. At this one sat one whom he recognized, his Master, with a woman which he did not know. The low lights didn't aid him in determining who she was, wild hair obscuring most of her face as she leaned against the much shorter Ryn. Strong raised a dark eyebrow, his glowing red eyes seeking some identifying mark upon the Human female who had draped herself across Kordath Bleu.

Marks there were aplenty, her bared arms covered in scars that may have come through fighting, or through torture, he could not ascertain. The Chiss was getting a bad feeling, though, as he watched her left-hand stroking and scratching at the base of the Ryn's scalp, her right holding a drink, though her arm was entangled in the man's tail. She was laughing about something, her face up against the side of his head to whisper in his ear in between bouts of giggling.

Surely his Master hadn't fallen on old habits with his betrothed away on Ol'val? Watching the dopey smile spreading across the Ryn's face, Strong felt the need to intervene. He was here for a purpose, after all. With a few long strides, he reached the table and rested one massive hand gently on Bleu's shoulder, catching a catty glare from the woman. He wasn't certain with the smoke and dim lights, but he thought he saw her push herself more against the Ryn, who was now looking up at his bodyguard.

"Oi, Strong! Mate! Let me introduce ya ta a bloody good friend, eh? She's a mate, yeah? Sure I told ya abouts her; this be—" his voice was drowned out by the jukebox kicking on a new song, even louder than the last. If Kordath noticed it didn't let on, as his mouth kept moving, gesturing with his left hand towards the woman and Strong in turn. The Chiss took note of where the Ryn's right hand was, now that he was closer and narrowed his eyes disapprovingly.

When the music hit a lull, melody playing in the background, the Fade spoke up.

"Master Bleu, you've been summoned by the Shadow Lady for a meeting. And I feel I must say that Mistress Zujenia would be most displeased if she were to learn you were spending time with a lady of the evening while she is away."

If the universe had a sense of humor, it would have caused the jukebox to erupt into sparks just to aid the awkward silence. Instead, it had Kordath Bleu going wide eyed and still as his bodyguard's bellowing words sunk in.

"I mean no insult to you, miss, we all must make our way through life by what means are available, but my Master is engaged you see," added the Chiss, oblivious to the fiery look he was receiving from the woman.

He was pleased with himself when he watched his Master disentangle himself from the woman, making soothing motions and babbling about 'He does nae know what he's sayin', luv.' His task had been to deliver the Consul's summons to Kordath; he'd succeeded in that task. The Ryn may even have been moderately sober still, despite the efforts of the woman who was rising to her feet with a death glare that he was choosing to ignore.

What he couldn't overlook was the small, well, small to him, Human climbing atop a chair to glare at him nearly face to face. A finger was shoved into his chest; the fact that it didn't give at all when she stabbed at the muscle didn't deter her in the least.

"Now you listen here, laser brain, do I look like a frakkin' whore to you!?"

"As I said, madame, I meant no offense."

"OH! That makes it all better, huh? An' you ran off Kordy, do you know how often we both can get a night off from our little ones?"

She was on her tip toes now, glaring with almond shaped eyes at his bright red. It was impressive, to Strong, not many tried to intimidate the massive Chiss. It was so unusual that he wasn't certain how to defuse the situation, he honestly hadn't meant any harm.

"I assure you, miss—"

"SATSI, ya big nerf herder! Fluffy there," she gestured at the retreating Ryn, "even introduced us, cause he's got manners!" she shouted at the Chiss.

Manners? Master Bleu? Oh my, this poor woman has suffered a head injury at some point.

He was about to inquire if she needed some form of medical attention when she hit him, a balled up fist striking him in the left eye. It had power behind it, enough to knock him back a step in surprise.

"Madame, I would rather avoid fisticuffs with a lady, please calm yourself."

"Oh, of course I'm bein' irrational, right. 'Cause I'm a woman?"

Strong was reeling, more mentally than physically. He was completely lost, and barely had the presence of mind to react as the ball of fury that was this 'Satsi' launched herself from the chair. The Chiss attempted to catch the poor woman with a grab at her abdomen. She was obviously addled and having lost her temper, but only managed to bring her within striking range of his head. Which she rained elbows down upon in rapid succession.

After the fourth or fifth strike upon his mostly bald scalp did he find the anger to fight back. Firming his grip upon her midsection and waist, he held her away until she could no longer strike his head. Before he could admonish her for assaulting him, or attempt to reason with her, she kicked him in the chin for good measure and looked ready to lash out at his face next. Having had enough, Strong lifted her up and slammed her into the vacated table, the wooden top splintering and shattering under her impact.

"Master Mick, I apologize for the damages," began Strong, turning to the bar and finding the one-eyed Rodian shaking his head and ducking below the bar. "How odd."

The Chiss stumbled forward in pain as a chair smashed across his back. He spun, lifting his forearms to a guard position, wondering who'd decided to assault him now. His eye throbbed, it would swell up nicely he was sure and was surprised to see Satsi standing with a chair leg in each hand. She was breathing heavily, though he wasn't certain it was from exertion.

"I am impressed, young lady. You are quite resilient."

"Frakk you, big guy," she snarled, throwing a chair leg at him and charging with the other.

The mountain of a man absorbed the projectile with a casual flicker of his large hand, the strut making more of sound as it clattered to the floor than it did against him. At the same time, Satsi took three steps, feinted a knee kick, swept low, and slid under his guard as the Chiss' bulging arms swung out. She crouched, leg muscles coiling, and launched herself upward.

Her first instinct was to jam the sharp end of the chair leg up through the soft flesh of the underside of his jaw. A grazing hit would sever his jugular and spray blood faster than he could stop it; a good, solid jab would spike his tongue to the roof of his skull.

Her body followed her instincts.

He was Kordy's Fade though, and he'd asked her "'dinnae kill him, please, luv,'" and so she belatedly changed her motion midway through. Twirling the shaft and reversing her grip, she slammed its butt clumsily at his chin, avoiding either caving in his windpipe or worse.

The strike made a meaty thud, staggering him as his head tipped back, but only a little. He still had plenty of presence of mind to loop his pylon-sized calf around one of hers, drawing her in quickly for a leg lock. Snarling, she threw herself backwards, into the fall, back curling all the way in and around like a pinwheel. The floor was sticky with vomit, booze, and splintered wood and glass when she hit it in a bone-bruising roll, but the Human sprang up again free.

Strong made no move towards her, though he stayed in his guard stance, spread wide, solid, and very ready. He was the largest man she had ever seen, which was saying something. Even the retreating patrons, many of them taller than average, seemed small compared to him. His biceps bulged like barrels of Corellian brandy, and the massive, swelling muscles across his chest could've been carved out of durasteel plates and soldered together for ship parts. She hadn't seen him remove his shirt, but spied the tatters at his feet.

"MADAME, PLEASE, MAY WE TALK THIS OUT?" he boomed, flexing as he spoke, his annoying voice loud even when he didn't seem to be truly yelling. Her desire to splinter his trachea grew. "I sincerely do not wish for the violence to continue, but if you persist, I will retaliate as needs must."

"Oh, honey, you bit off more than you could chew the day you met me," Satsi spat, sneered, smiled. The woman rolled her joints and stretched all her limbs, feeling all the twinges with a satisfied sort of sigh. Her chest knifed with short, sharp pains that radiated from between her shoulders when she inhaled, and her ankle was probably turning a funny shade of reddish blue from yanking it out of his lock, but the rest of the bruises were just pain as ever, fresh and easy. Alive. Blood crashed in her ears to the pounding of her heart, an intoxicating fight song.

A bare-knuckled brawl was exactly what she'd been aching for lately.

Teeth bared, she charged him straight on, back spinning from side to side in a rapid series of kicks: spin kicks, hooking kicks, side kicks, roundhouse kicks, crescent kicks. They reached where her punches couldn't on him, crashing against the indomitable barriers that were his blocks, one after another. It was a dance. She beat against him like a storm against a cliff. He soundly weathered it all with a growing sheen of sweat that gleamed in the faint barroom lighting.

WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, went flesh against flesh, bone against bone. With a mighty heave of his arms, he intercepted her knee and shoved her back, unbalancing her. He followed through with a straight-on fist right to her face.

The punch laid her flat on her back with starships twirling around her head. Her teeth clacked together like stones, and she all but moaned to savor it. There was no taste like enamel aspark.

The flavor was chased quickly by blood and mucus flooding down her throat and sinuses. Her nose was certainly broken. Still, it was nothing she hadn't experienced countless times before, and she pushed past the pain that blinded her with a short, sharp inhale through her teeth as she stood, blinking years away.

The Chiss was standing just where she'd left him, still facing her; this time, he'd been bright enough not to turn his back on her so quickly. Shame. The hand he'd busted her with didn't even look inflamed in the slightest. Her knuckles, meanwhile, still ached furiously from the first hit she'd thrown, one of the joints popped in and out of its socket. The last time she'd punched him, over a year ago, her hand had hurt for well over three days — not that either he or Kordy would've known it was her.

"What the hell are you made of?" snarled the scarred Human, her voice pinched and wet. She spat a mouthful of slimy copper and licked her teeth.

"I am but a product of the traditions and practices passed down through the Garmis family for many generations," answered Strong with no small bit of pride, even though his gaze was very grave. "Have you yet exhausted your temper, madame? We may yet talk..."

"I'll break your bloody jaw," she sneered, running at him. He braced to catch her just as she dove aside, leaping up onto the nearest intact table, kicking off, and wrapping her thighs around his trunk of a neck. The hold was sloppy, with his chin tucked to his chest, but she crossed her legs and hung on, raining elbows down on his scalp again, aiming for his ears, eyes, and nose.

"GAH! PLEASE STOP."

He tried to pull her off of him and only succeeded in mildly choking himself. She kept hitting as best as she could, trading one elbow to claw at his face with her fingers.

"Pretty glowy eyes, banthabrains, do they hurt?"

"WHY WOULD THEY HURT, GOOD MIS—"

Satsi swept her thumb along the inside edge of his nose and into the socket, digging her nails into one red eyeball, not popping it out but gleefully making him bleed.

The other Fade gave a roar of pain and instinctive panic, shouting, "WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS THING!?"

"DROP ALREADY, YA KARKIN' MORON!" she yelled back, scratching along his brow and cheek viciously.

His movements became clumsier but primal and, true to name, strong. He swiftly shoved both hands between her legs and broke her grip, catching her under the arms before she could jump away. In the space between heartbeats, the world inverted. Whirled. Her ears rushed with blood. Her body was a ragdoll's, flung into the air—

And then, impact. Like a speeder crash. She was dazedly aware of smashing through a table and meeting the floor in a crumpled heap, head swimming with disorientation.

It took her a moment, but Satsi sat up again, groaning, and glanced down briefly to make sure her ribs hadn't busted out by sheer force. What she saw was much worse: her crimson corset was stained by her darker blood and whatever mixed drinks the blue idiot had thrown her into, one of its gleaming black chains ripped free of its stud. The decorative white boning — mimicking a ribcage — around her bust had cracked.

"You.. you frakker," she seethed, her murderous glare fixing on the Chiss across the room, who looked dismayed. Spitting blood through clenched teeth and wiping her busted nose again, she stood with the focused stillness that implied the capacity for instant violence, raw-skinned fists balling until her knuckles all popped. "This was one of the only two left that fit me since I shat out my kid, you sonuvabanthafrakkingbitch. Frak Kordy, I'm gonna kill you!"

"Miss, I am sorry for your attire, however—"

Satsi uncoiled, drew one of her knives, and moved.

She came at him with a fury, her dagger humming at subsonic speeds. He wiped the blood that threatened to obscure his vision, wondering how nicely the scars would heal after he'd subdued her. That was assuming she didn't force him to kill her; his honor would only take him so far before he'd have to resort to lethal force.

"Please, miss, calm yourself! I have tried to be reasonable and to limit the harm I've caused you, but if you persist I will—"

She cut him off, literally, lunging at him with the vibrodagger in a reverse grip. It was distressing, the Human was just as quick as he, and seemed to be taking the blows he'd doled out a bit too well for his liking. He stepped back, tucking his elbows in towards his stomach, right arm bent at the elbow and forward. It stung, his arm growing wet and warm with blood as he knocked aside the strike.

Strong grunted as his parry turned Satsi away but for a moment. Using the momentum of his defense, she spun herself back and drove the dagger at him anew. The Chiss hissed in pain through gritted teeth when he used his left arm to defend, briefly causing the crazed woman's assault to falter as the knife became lodged in his meaty forearm. With a wordless shout of anger, he swung his free hand around, balled up in a tight fist. His patience had been thoroughly tested by this woman.

The impact was loud enough to be heard over the terrible music, as was the shout of agony from Strong as she refused to let go of her dagger,instead wrenching it out of his arm as she fell back. Cradling his left arm, held close to his body and bleeding more than he cared to think, he looked around for options. Unlike Satsi, he'd left most of his own weaponry near the door, like a civilized person. Not wanting to expose his back to the madwoman and her vibrodagger, he reached down and grasped the leg of a mostly intact chair, holding it up before him like some kind of Nexu trainer.

"Frakkin' big bastard," he heard her grumble as she stood, spitting blood, and a few teeth, on the floor. "Messed up my pretty smile."

"Miss, you are by far the most aggressive working woman I have ever met."

The cry she released was inarticulate, but the rage was evident. She hacked at the chair as he back pedaled towards the entry to the mess-hall, leaving a trail of blood from his growing number of wounds. Satsi's blade took a leg from his makeshift shield after two hacking blows. His attempts to push her back were met with a sneer, though he only did it to buy time. With a turn of his head, his vision growing blurry with blood once more, he saw his equipment sitting next to the coat rack. When the woman bared her teeth and pulled her dagger back for another attack, he threw the chair at her.

Satsi ducked it easily. It had been a clumsy and ill conceived move, but it got him the time he needed to scoop up the riot shield that sat next to his power hammer. The yellow trimmed shield lit up as the generator kicked on, and for a moment Strong debated the hammer before discarding the idea. He was losing blood, and strength; the shield would have to do as he took a deep breath.

"I gave you fair warning, madame!" he shouted and abruptly charged forward while the Human was in mid strike. The dagger glanced off the shield, which the Chiss held before him at a slight upwards angle, catching Satsi below the knees and lifting her from the floor as he ran. He could hear a tirade of curses as she attempted to stab at him around the shield, not bothering to try and remove herself from it. She even grabbed the top of it to give herself better leverage, much to Strong's dismay.

The vibrating dagger edge got perilously close to his face before they reached the back wall of Mick's, and the jukebox. Satsi crashed into the machine, shouting and snarling even as she was slammed into the glass fronting of the machine, producing cuts and further damaging her corset.

Much to Strong's relief, the music stopped with this assault. This only made Satsi's disparaging remarks about his parentage, which he was trying to ignore as his head began to spin, all the louder. When she started to climb out of the machine he sighed and swung his shield at her, the energy field causing her to recoil when it touched skin.

"Please, miss," he sounded tired, now, "please, stop. I apologized, repeatedly, for whatever insult you perceived. So, I beg of you, stop.

Her brown eyes stared into his glowing red ones, and slowly a smile spread across the woman's face. Somehow that was more unsettling to the Chiss.

"You scrap alright, big guy. I guess it’s okay that you're watching Kordy's tail for me."

"For you? Forgive me, miss, but you are aware he is—"

"Engaged, yeah yeah, we'll see how long that lasts with his ways. Fluffball will get himself into trouble some way or another, trust me," she stated with certainty, standing and stretching, the smile still set on her face. "Hot damn, normally I only get this bruised up after a fun night, not because some big karkin' idiot thinks I'm a whore."

Stres'trong'armis, son of a long lineage of Garmis men, winced at this comment. So she wasn't a working woman, he realized finally. Strong lowered his head, blood dripping from his brow and face, left arm tucked against his midsection still bleeding, in an attempt at a gentlemanly bow.

"My apologies, miss, I misunderstood the sit—"

He didn't even see the hilt of the dagger coming down on the back of his neck, nor that the smile hadn't fled her features. If anything it had gotten more bloodthirsty when he looked away. As his blurred vision faded, he heard her whisper something into his ear about "...for my corset, big schutta. Thank Kordy for me not slicin' your karkin' throat."

His skin was blue. His blood was red.

She wanted more of it.

The frenzy burned under her skin. There was no subtlety in her movements as she sliced for the joining of his calf and thigh.

Her knife never made it in range of his tendons. He grabbed her up in a hip toss and flung her away from him. She landed easily on her feet and charged again, both her knives in hand now. The right slashed forward, then the left. He knocked one blade harmlessly aside with the flat of his palm and jerked back from the other, escaping with a line of weeping crimson in his split skin instead of a severed artery or steel stuck in bone. Satsi sliced at him again, and again, drawing more wicked red against blue, blood droplets spurting with each awesome flex of his muscles, and then—

Strong struck her left arm hard enough to numb it completely, making all her nerves lock and buzz. The knife clattered to the floor from her stunned fingers as the limb trembled. Snarling, Satsi stabbed at him futily with her remaining weapon. He caught her hand, thick fingers wrapping all the way around her fist and prying open her grip. That knife fell too.

It all happened in the space of two heartbeats. Before she could even chamber a kick in response, he was moving, and so was she.

He slammed her into the nearby wall by her throat with the broad side of his immense forearm, knocking the wind out of her and making her teeth clack around her tongue. He held her there, huffing and stony-faced, and she glared at the big oh-so-noble oaf with one eye and a grin as blood trickled from her mouth.

"Harder, daddy," she moaned exaggeratedly, licking her lips for extra measure. He dropped her like she was hot iron, making a series of choking noises. Lo and behold, Chiss could turn purple when they blushed. Like somebody had painted a mustache on a juna berry.

Satsi ducked away under his arm, pivoting on her heel and back-spinning into a kick to knock him closer to the wall and shove her an extra foot further back. He only just staggered. Still, he seemed wordlessly flustered as he turned to her, stuttering. Or maybe he was screaming internally. Both?

"Aww, don't look so fussed, sweetie. At least I didn't say brother," she cackled, watching the violet of his neck and ears deepen, spreading down his pulsating pectorals and up to the crown of his shiny head. Maybe if she kept pushing, he'd stroke out. "You ever even been laid, big guy? I know lots of places, cater any fetish ya like, clean boys and girls. You know, so to speak. Hell, way you put hands on me, I might have to charge you before the night's over. What do you say? Want me wrapped around your face again? I promise I won't go for the eyes this time. Your mouth, though..."

"This commentary is highly inappropriate and slanderous, madame, and I request that it cease at once. While there is no shame in your profession, I am not one to take advantage of a lady, and would never! DO NOT ASSUME SUCH ON THE HONOR OF MYSELF OR ANY INDIVIDUAL OF THE GARMIS FAMILY!"

"Make me," the Human hissed, manic with anger and glee. She spat a mouthful of blood, laughed, and made a beckoning motion.

"MUST YOU CONTINUE TO FORCE MY HAND IN THIS MANNER?"

"I said, make me," Satsi sneered, snatching some shattered shards of glass that cut into her palm and making to leap up and grind them into his face. He tiredly caught her arm in a lock at the joint and twisted her all the way around, forcing her to bend.

"Madame, PLEASE, I beg you, stop."

"You ain't broke my legs yet, frakker."

She pistoned a knee into his shin for that, making him yelp. She did it again, bucking and twisting. She'd dislocate her shoulder and beat him to death with one damn arm.

"Madame, I had no wish to do this, but you force me to subdue you with the pacifying technique passed down through my family for generations!"

He grabbed her in something of a backwards bear hug with all of one tree trunk-think arm, trapping hers to her sides. Her head didn't even reach the top of his chest. His other arm moved to cinch at her throat in a far too secure headlock.

If she'd had the air, she would have told him to shut the frak up. As it was, she knew even as his hold tightened that, unlike in holodramas, she would only have seconds before unconsciousness came hard and fast.

He began to squeeze her neck and blackness encroached on her vision. She slid her hand along his thigh, in, up, and then grabbed and twisted, until she felt the slightest give of pressure as something in her grip popped wetly.

Predictably, the hulking man gave an inhuman screech of pain, probably many octaves higher in tone than his booming voice had ever gotten, and buckled. She wasn't quite prepared for the sudden and sheer mass of the weight coming down on top of her as the hulking Chiss fell to his knees and curled over, vomiting. Satsi hit the floor in a crumple, all her tendons straining and her spine whirring as she tried to claw her way out from under the massive, whimpering blue bulk crushing her. She wheezed as she dragged herself across the ground, legs pinned under six fraktons of weirdo. "Holy karking banthafrakkers, you're heavy..."

He didn't seem to be listening, busy clutching at whatever pulp remained of the Garmis family's crown jewels. Guess he wouldn't be passing much on to the future generations. Hopefully there were siblings for that.

The Human finally wrestled herself free, covered now in even more grit, booze, and lots of puke that, for once, wasn't from her baby girl. She made a disgusted noise and wobbled upright, making no move to brush herself off except to swipe bits of glass and crushed pretzels out of her sticky hair. Some stuck particularly stubbornly, and with narrowed eyes, she yanked them and a small clump of black and red strands out.

"Shadows, I need a shower," groaned the woman. Rolling her shoulders and turning, she sneered down at the sobbing Chiss still retching up foamy bile, now that his earlier meals were decorating her and the tiles. The woman lifted a boot and planted it against his piston-sized shoulder, shoving hard into the ground right when he convulsed to make him choke a bit. "I want you to remember something when you're done dyin' there, Strong ol' boy. Kordath Bleu was mine before he was yours or that Zuji mutt's, so you can back the frak off. I'ma spend as much time with him and his twerp as either of us likes, and if you got something else to say about it, I'll rip off the other sack too. Got it?"

The crazy man was still polite enough to hold up a hand while he vomited and cried, as if in apology for his response being delayed by fighting off unconsciousness. She didn't wait for one, kicking at him again and then walking over to the bar where Mick had risen back up from behind it and resumed polishing glasses like usual. She waved two fingers. The Rodian poured her a scotch.

Satsi only got to taking her first sip when her comm rang. She set the glass back down, plucking the device from her belt and answering with an unconscious grin to see the incoming ID-code. "ello?"

"Where is Samantha's third favorite blanket?" came her twin's voice through the emitter. "She has already spit up on the first two tonight and I cannot locate the next."

"Oh my frakking— she's not your neurotic ass yet, she doesn't have favorites, nevahmind third ones. She's like, one!"

"You call things her favorites all the time, and she expresses preferences." A heartbeat pause. "And her birth date has not passed yet."

"I'm rounding."

"The blanket, shimai?"

"She should have another in the bedroom closet. Look, kyodai, I'm comin' home, so—"

"—you do not need to."

"I want to," Satsi said, and she meant it. "Kordy and I 're done already anyway and I miss ya two, so there."

"Alright, dear. Was your time pleasant?"

"Yeah, we had drinks, chatted, I got in a brawl with his bigass Fade—"

"What did you do?"

"Hey! He was the one who called me a whore and interrupted, I'm not gonna take that."

"It is not exactly an uncommon or incorrect misconception."

"Who's side are you on here?"

"Throw an extra kick for me, then," answered her brother mildly, and she knew he was amused. "Since you have already caused damages, I am sure. And give Mick my condolences."

"Don't worry, Micky knows we'll pay fer the broken stuff n'shit. And as fer the kick...I already did one bettah in yer honor. Man's chances of reproducing are 'bout halved now."

"Tactful as ever. I will see you when you get in. Get a speeder. Do not drive."

"I ain't had that much to drink."

"And how many blows to the head did you take?"

"Fine, fine, ya naggy nerf. I'm being safe, don't worry." She winked, realized he wouldn't know, and then blew a kissy sound into the comm. He snorted.

They ended the call. Satsi looked back at Strong and the wreckage around her, downed her drink, and then made her way out the door.