The wild planet of Kashyyyk is known to be home to the gentle, but short-tempered race of Wookiees. Wild and untamed, the lush, wroshyr tree-filled forests form a multi-layered deathtrap. The local wildlife present a threat as one descends towards the forest floor, though the battle-scarred beaches and the remnants of the Clone Wars provide refuge. However, as one ascends the danger of falling becomes the largest threat until coming in contact with the Wookiee settlements. Fauna and flora flourish in delight, growing within dirt pockets in the crevices of the trees. Some of these plants are carnivorous, becoming larger and deadlier closer to the forest floor. Others have some form of consciousness, able to communicate with the Wookiees to give some understanding of their use.

Above the Wookie settlements rests the wild rain forest canopies. Within the crevices of the trees, empty fruit and rotting shells from seeds show the spring season has ended. A soft wind whistles between the thick vines and shrubs that stick to the trunks of the ancient and sleeping giants. Despite the never-ending lack of footholds aside from the branches of wroshyr trees, a series of abandoned and rotting platforms are suspended a hundred meters above the surface, once home to its own Wookiee settlement. Overgrown and decayed, it has since nourished countless plants and trees with their outstretched branches sheltering the dense and soft floor from the extreme sun rays and torrential rain. Upon closer inspection unusual signs become notable. Moss carpets particular areas on the platforms and nowhere else, and tree-dwelling animals and birds never seem to land on the surface.

Tread carefully, or fall whim to the creatures that inhabit this terrain.

"Ya'know," drawled a familiar voice behind him, "it don't actually count as a diplomatic meeting if yer not there for it."

"Ahh, the lad's got this, now don't he?"

"I wasn't serious when I made the kid an 'ambassador.'"

"Yeah, well, funny that."

"And this is you, uh, what? Assimilating with the locals? You'd have to lose the boxers too."

"I got hot," protested the furry Ryn, wriggling in nothing but his drawers, a bottle at his side. His clothes were... somewhere below.

"Aww, honey, you were always hot. Don't worry, sobriety only ruins it a little bit. Mine, that is."

"Oi, woman."

Kordath's lips twitched up into a grin he couldn't quite suppress, and he heard a low, throaty chuckle over his shoulder. Moments later, wood creaked as his friend came and sat down next to him, dangling her longer legs off the edge of the platform. She was still fully kitted out, pistols and pointy bits and everything.

Satsi grimaced as she leaned forward and looked down. Almost unconsciously, the Ryn lifted his tail, ready to wrap loosely around her forearm just in case she tipped too far. It was space that did him ill, but that didn't make his stomach strong for heights like these either.

The Human whistled through her teeth. One of them was a little whiter than the others, a brand new replacement after she'd gotten one knocked out or cracked or something on her last job.

"Impressed, luv?"

"Coruscant buildings got taller than this, but it's kinda cool still. These things get this big, all by themselves. And that takes how karking long? Droids didn't do this in a couple years. This is like, forever or something. Makes ya feel small."

Kordath lifted a bushy white brow, keeping his palms firmly planted behind him to brace himself even as she leaned out a little farther, accentuating already prominent curves and muscles. Gently, he tugged her back with his tailed grip.

"Didja eat somethin' funny, Sats?" asked the Ryn, snorting through his fluted nose. She wasn't usually one to go on about nature.

"I had one o' them hairball's drinks, but m'good. Probably had less than you."

"Ehh, the Wook juice nae is to me taste." He patted his bottle of whiskey, still rather full.

"Really? I think it tastes juuust fine." Her tongue swept her lips in an obvious gesture, sinful and sweet.

He snorted again and she laughed with him. It wasn't the easiest of sounds, but they'd been trying, when they could. They'd been good since Endor. Or at least getting better. Not seeing each other like they used to, not even hanging out just for a drink out of respect for Zuji, was tough. Worth it, had to be, if he was going to win back his fiancee, but tough.

"Hey," Satsi said after a few minutes of just sitting there kicking their feet hundreds of miles above ground, listening to the forest buzz and the distant warble of the Wookiees and their own representative in Kelviin having their meeting, "let's spar."

A mild sensation of alarm curled in the Ryn's gut. Along with a strong shot of arousal. He valiantly ignored it.

"That does nae seem a good idea, lass," replied the furred man, pulling his tail back to keep it to himself.

The woman glared at him flatly.

"I just mean sparring. Ain't no tricks or teasing here, Fluffy, I know the rules, m'not trying to frak it up again."

"Then let's just play cards or something," snapped Kordath, nerves turning to exasperation. "Er. Well. Or something. Left me deck in me trousers."

"Sparring is something."

"Satsi."

"Kordy," she shot back, turning to face him. Her expression was half-glare, half-pout, lower lip jutting out.

"I'll do it if ya tell me wha' this kark is all really about, lass."

For some reason, that made her blink, chuckle, and shake her head.

"Getting firm, gotta like it," she muttered, then sighed. "Look. I couldn't get to you during the riot and I... You're an actual target these days, even to the people you haven't personally groped or pissed off. And I can't always be there to watch your back. And that pisses me off. So, humor me here. Practice is good fer yah."

Kordath blew out a gusty sigh himself. He was a little buzzed -- or dehydrated, hard to tell which -- and sticky and hot and this would only make him hotter, stickier, and sweatier. And getting physical with Satsi was always dangerous in some way or another. But he knew she was being sincere, since she actively did look mad about caring.

"Fine," the Ryn said, watching his ex-lover, ex-best friend, ex-Consul, current-something perk up like a nexu smelling blood. "But I don't bloody got nothin' but this and me knuckles wit me."

"Oh, that's fine. More real this way. You're more likely to get caught with your pants down than anybody else around, and that includes the Wookiees."

"Oi--" he started to protest, but was promptly cut off as a calf as thick as some of the branches around here swung up and slammed into his midsection, throwing him back and knocking his skull against the wooden platform. He failed breathlessly for a moment, wheezing.

"...wai..." he tried to choke, but Satsi was already on him, straddling his chest up high enough to pin him at the shoulders and pressing her Inqy knife against his throat.

"Dead," growled the gangster, sneer in place. "C'mon, Kord. Gotta convince me you can look after yahself still, or we ain't leaving this tree."

Growling silently in return with air he didn't have, the Ryn focused enough to summon the Force into his left hand, curling fingers to palm as power gathered. Before he could unleash it, though, his senses tingled in warning and a fist immediately followed, cracking between his eyes.

"Not good enough!" Satsi shouted in his face as he yowled and reeled, clutching at his poor nose. It wasn't broken, she'd made sure of that, but it hurt like a bantha, white starbursts of agony radiating out through his head and the insides of his teeth. "You can't always use your tricks! Anybody who studied you a bit would know you'd try to pull that sparky lightshow bit real fast. Get up and fight me."

Hissing, the Ryn inhaled the Force, letting it numb him a little to the pain, and zeroed his attention in behind her. With a flick of his tail for direction, he sent the hovering bottle cracking into the back of her head with all the force of a good throw. Her neck snapped forward with a sick sound, a wet thud, and he saw her teeth knock together, cutting right through her lips. He didn't have a moment to pause, though. The man quickly writhed, shimmying his body at an angle and slipping out from under his reeling friend like an eel. He flowed quickly to his feet, swaying and bobbing unsteadily, backing away fast.

Satsi, he knew, could shake off a beating more stubbornly than most for all the worst reasons. And maybe that was her point, about the Blinding trick. About all of it. She'd gotten well known in her brief stint as Consul, and now here he was, sitting up top with a target on his back, and front, and sides. The spotlight wasn't any good for him. He'd always been a creature of the vagrant, skulking variety, better slipping sneak-thief quick off and unnoticed after a few sleights of hand and tricksy words and a bit of booze. He had his methods and they'd worked well so far, but not like this, dragged out kicking and screaming onto the stage for every crazy murdering psychopath and their mum to analyze.

He felt suddenly, as he often did when looking at his little half-Zeltron daughter, far too old for any of this kark. Old and vulnerable and sorely unprepared, when he couldn't just hide in a vent or behind his droids or some other thug or make a quick getaway.

The man gritted his teeth, still swaying in place, and then with a burst of speed darted forward, aiming a hand for the Human's side. Satsi jerked quickly up into a block, but he wasn't trying to hit her; his fingers closed around the buckle of her belt with a very intimate familiarity and clicked it open, yanking the thing away as he rapidly backpedalled. She yelped as the movement twisted her hips slightly, belt loops catching, dislodging her grenades and dropping them to the platform with a succession of clatters. The Ryn moved loose and liquid-quick, kicking the damn things sailing off the ledge despite how it hurt his bare toes.

The scarred woman was on him before he could do anymore or go for her guns, though. She took a step to plant herself, pivoted, and snapped a kick around that would have knocked him clean out if he hadn't fallen back on his ass, arms pinwheeling, tail crumpled under him painfully. She snarled, agitated by the hampering displacement of her clothing, and dove for him again with dagger in hand, the light filtering through the treetops glinting on its deadly edge.

Blast it, Red, this is goin’ too bleedin’ far! he thought as he dodged and weaved, relying on his natural speed and warnings from the Force to keep from being Ryn-kebabed.

“Stop running!” she shouted, swinging her dagger around point first in a backhanded grip, before dropping low to try and sweep his legs as he ducked. The move was deliberate; she knew how to fight the sparklefingers, especially one’s like Kord who relied on the Force to avoid the hits. Throwing attacks from multiple angles was just one way of overcoming that ‘second sight’ poodoo that let the fuzzy little bastard stay out of range. The conflicting warnings of ‘attack from above’ and ‘watch your feet’ caused the Ryn to stumble through his dodge. If nothing else, she’d wear him down. They both knew who could go for longer.

“You know you can’t outlast, or outrun me, Kordy,” she snarked, blood covering her chin and making the grin she gave him ghoulish. “Gonna have to fight back, properly, if you wanna survive, suguah.”

“Sats…” he tried to start, his attempt to open back up dialogue earning him a side-kick to the gut. He went down hard, this time twisting to avoid landing on his already sore tail. She wasn’t pulling punches, he had a few scratches from the dagger already to prove that. Kark me.

She exhaled, tossing her head back to get the sweat-soaked hair out of her face. “Comeon, Fluffy, get up and— what the hell are you doing?”

Kordath rolled his eyes as he pushed himself to his knees, his tail twitching as he braced himself with one arm. His other was down his briefs, moving about like he was looking for a lost set of keys or the like.

“Really? Right now, man? I mean I get it, I’m pretty damn smoking still, but you’re the one who said I was off-limits now,” she shook her head and looked away. It wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d seen him do, and in any other setting, almost, it might have been flattering. She spun the knife in her hand and turned back to find him on his feet, left-hand palm out, the right behind his back. “Ooh, trying to be tricky, huh? Okay, let’s see what it is this time,” she said with a fresh smirk, dashing at him with the knife.

He ducked the dagger, feeling the cold metal brush across the hair covering his shoulder, and pivoted under her reach. His right arm came around, cocked at the elbow, to slam his fist into her midsection. It was oddly satisfying to hear the air rush out of her, and to see the look of puzzlement on her pretty face. Face, just a face, he shook his head.

“Tha kark was that?” she wheezed. She blinked as he lifted his right hand, fingers set firmly through the grip of a brass knuckler. “Where did you— Oh, oh my god you had that thing in your shorts this whole time?”

“Aye,” he stated, taking the pause to try and catch his breath, pulling the Force to himself. It flowed through his muscles, and while his skill in the healing arts was non-existent he could at least block out some of the pain. He knew he’d pay for this all later. “Ya did nae notice I was packin’ a bit extra today?”

“Figured maybe ya got some work done,” she said with a smile that seemed too sweet, straightening herself up as she spoke. She stretched anew, causing the Ryn to feel his ears flush. “Though I can see,” she nodded towards him, “that everything still looks ‘solid’.”

Kordath coughed and tried to think of anything else, his momentary break in concentration opening him up to her round two starter of punching him in the temple. His head rang, and he fought to hold onto the Force, letting the power he’d channeled to his muscles do its thing. The Ryn stumbled sideways and allowed himself to fall towards the wooden platform below, using his offhand to catch himself. With enhanced speed and power he used this as a pivot, spinning his body around to kick at the Human. She managed to jump the first pass but wasn’t able to twist out of the way of the next, the Ryn using his momentum to swing his legs up into the air. His bare feet caught her in the ribs as she came down, knocking her awkwardly to the moss-covered platform.

She rolled to her feet quickly, but he could see her favoring her right arm. Satsi moved quick, springing back into the melee while he was still getting his feet under him. She lunged low, her left shoulder taking him in the stomach and lifting him off the ground. The woman reached her hand around to grasp the base of his tail, drawing a confused yelp from the Ryn when she used it to help toss him over her shoulders. He hit the ground, hard and head first, trying to roll up to his feet with the blow and finding himself too dizzy to make it upright without falling again.

He turned and, by sheer luck of the Force itself, caught her booted foot when it tried to connect with his head. Kord pulled himself towards her, wrapping his left arm around her knee and tried to sweep her planted foot out, only to get punched in the face. He went fell back again, but dragged his grip in an effort to pull her boot off. If nothing else, he figured, he could bring her off balance. That or turn the thing into a weapon; he’d smacked more than once person about with his boots before, why not someone else's?

What he didn’t expect was for her to tumble after him, cursing his name when they ended up in a tangle of limbs on the platform surface.

“Nerf herding idiot! You better not have torn ‘em!” she growled at him, pulling at her pants.

“Torn what? What’d’I’do now?” he muttered as she moved to stand, disentangling herself from him and regaining her feet.

Kord had a flash of terrible thought, eyes skipping over the other side of the platform where a length of leather sat. Before she could kick him again, or move away, he reached out with both hands and grasped the back of her pant legs, just above the knees. And pulled.

A pronounced, noticeable RIIIIIIiiiiipppp tore through the treetop canopy.

And through Satsi's pants.

For a moment, both of the Arconans stared at the large stretch of fabric in Kordath's grip, then down at the Human's muscled, shapely legs. They weren't entirely bare, clad skin-tight in silken black garters and stockings, a mix of lace and elegant seams clasped with bowed straps. It was an...incongruous look, not working aesthetically with her combat boots, the wayward belt, or the combat-fitted top with holsters. The shredded bits left of her pants riding up high around her curves, though...that wasn't a bad match.

"You...these were new!" the woman growled, startling the Ryn out of his slack-jawed, half-lidded staring. He shook himself, held up his hands, then realized he was waving about her trousers and quickly dropped them. Figured she'd be mad about her clothes and completely uncaring of her state of dress.

"Now, now, luv...is only fair...now we're both half-nekkid."

"THOSE WERE BESPIAN LEATHER!"

"Bepsin is a gas cloud, luv, I think ya got scammed. Look how shoddy they was."

Satsi shrieked in rage.

"Well it nae is me fault ya came dressed like tha' to see the Wooks! I know ya like me fur, Sats, and theirs just fine, but I dunno if they have a taste for, erm, that getup. Might just try some leaves—"

Knuckles smacked, as anticipated, into his skull. The Ryn cried out. His head was cracked enough as was and he wasn't going to walk out of here without a concussion if she kept slamming it. Actually, maybe he was already concussed. His tongue did taste a little too white in his mouth, and when colors had flavors and his ears were ringing dully, it was usually a bad sign of a fight or a good review of a drink.

"It's not for them," snarled the woman, and Kordath shied away again. Uji hadn't come with them to his knowledge, and the Ryn hadn't sensed him, so...

"For...uh...not for me? Right?"

"NO!" She hit him again, much harder this time. Starbursts of white danced behind his eyelids and his teeth felt numb. "What did I just say about not messing with you and Spots?"

"...Kelviin? Show the lad, uh, a whole new world?"

Smack, smack, smack. Ow, ow, ow.

"I'm runnin' outta folks here, lass, ya lookin' ta ride the wildlife? 'Cause even I got me limits but I swear I won't judge...much."

That time, she didn't hit him. That time, she quick-drew her pistol and shot him in the tail.

Agony exploded up his spine while the tip of his second most precious appendage exploded into the air. He screamed, watching through streaming tears as a bit of gray flesh and all the beautiful white hair connected to it went skittering off to the side in a bright but small splash of blood.

"I'm going to teach you two things, now," menaced the woman as she stood over him as he curled into a fetal position, jabbing her gun in his face. "One is yeah, making sure you can fight, and not just like you normally do. And the other is that, sometimes, people just wanna feel GODDAMN PRETTY FOR THEIR OWN DAMN SELVES."

"Me tail!" yelped Kordath in pain and outrage, clasping the raggedy end and its now-patchy fluff to his bare chest, the rest curling tight around his waist. Satsi only scoffed at his state.

"Focus, Bleu. Someone could rip it off entirely and you'd still need to get up and frakking fight and mean it. Not tricks, not gabbing, not being sly, no— just a readiness to kill."

"I'm plenty ready for that," spat the Ryn, truly upset now. He clung to the Force with a weak grip and tottered to his knees. "I can defend me damn self, Satsi, I killed before when I did nae 'ave a choice, so quit with this kark 'fore I do somethin' we'll both regret."

"You're still talking," she hissed, then swung her gun at him, aiming to knock off his head. The metal caught his temple even as Kordath dove to the side and rolled upright and to his feet, only a little wobbly, tense and loose-limbed all at once. His brain felt as though it was swimming, and he with it, arms and legs bobbing and flowing like he was suspended in water. He flowed right around her next swing, then back, then left, rolling his spine to duck under a jab. Knocked as senseless as if he were drunk and in plenty of pain, the Ryn found it easier to let go, to move how the Force urged him to. Satsi cursed at him.

The Ryn stumbled smoothly away, but the woman didn't chase him. Instead, she lifted a pistol in each hand and squeezed the triggers, her arms kicking back from the force of the chambered bullets' bursts. Fire lanced through Kordath's abdomen even as he managed to avoid one of the shots, senses absolutely screeching. It was like one long, high-pitched note of noise, going: runrunrunrunrunruuuuuun—

She had real intent to harm him.

The man gulped and clutched the graze in his side with the hand that wasn't fitted with knucklers, feeling the too-hot seep of blood. It was enough to drag him out of his comfortably half-comatose trance, bringing sharp clarity and sharper pain. Even with everything between them — because of it and despite it — he'd always known she'd never really hurt him. Not cold. Not to kill.

Her eyes were as flat and frozen as Uji's got when he was about to execute someone, now.

It was that Force-fueled realization that chilled the Ryn's bones but steadied his trembling hands. He inhaled the thick currents of power with a quick breath and leapt backwards, calves and thighs surging with supernatural strength to send him arcing off the platform and down to the next he'd sensed below it. Up above, he heard Satsi's pounding steps race for the edge, and he quickly jumped again, fingers catching awkwardly around support beams grown right from tree branches. With a heave that made his wound spurt fresh blood uncomfortably all the way down his trousers and the crack of his rear, the Ryn just managed to pull himself up, wedging his lithe body in the space between the bough and the underside of the platform. He felt each vibration of booted feet vibrating in his marrow and inside his teeth, stomping directly above him.

He breathed out slowly, holding himself still and sinking deep into the Force, letting the life of it surround him, drown him, have him. It was so thick here, amidst the trees, in the air and water. He could sense every leaf and insect nearby, sense Satsi above him, sense her shock of confusion and cold anger and determination when she peered down at the other platform but couldn't spot him. He felt her breathing. He felt the trees breathing. He breathed in.

The precious energy soaking his mind and body was a relief, bolstering his aching muscles, calming his aching head and his tired wounds. He channeled it gratefully, whispering thanks into the air for once.

His harmony wasn't long-lived, though. Only a few moments had passed before Satsi was throwing herself down to the platform across from him, slamming almost face-first into the lip of the ledge. She scrabbled to catch herself, arms glistening with sweat and chest heaving, legs swinging. The wood gave a terrible groan and then started to splinter with a shriek. The Human's efforts redoubled, frantic, as she lost one handhold and a chunk of rotted wood and moss went plummeting to the ground far, far below. For a heartbeat, she hung there, pinwheeling, one-handed grip digging into timber hard enough to leave bloody trails where her fingernails peeled back.

Then, with a mighty heave that stirred heat in the Ryn's belly even at such a dangerous moment, Satsi swung herself up and overhead like a dancer doing a tumble and landed hard on the platform. It held under her body, and she gasped and gagged as she laid there a moment before crawling away from the ledge and climbing to her feet. She pulled one gun back out of its holster.

Kordath's lips pressed into a grim line from where he sat in his hiding place. As soon as she turned around, she would spot him, and she would shoot. He couldn't possibly dodge here.

Mean it, she'd said. Kill, she'd said.

Bloody fine, he thought, both grim and resigned. Yet part of him felt free. It was the part of him that flickered in his eyes, sometimes, burnt gold with the Dark Side, the part that knew people a little too well and didn't feel so bad pulling them apart.

The Ryn focused, narrowed gaze fixing across the distance on his target. He lifted two fingers and gestured, to help guide himself, to help guide the shadowy tendrils he wrapped around her mind.

"You're afraid," he whispered to himself, not even really a sound, just a motion of lips. Across the way, Satsi went rigid. "You're scared, so scared. Yer hurt. You just want it ta stop."

The scarred Human was shaking, now. Her gun rattled in her bruised grip. She shook her head, dug nails into her scalp and tugged at her hair. Just like he knew she would. Trying so hard to keep herself grounded, in the present, in reality. She was more stubborn, more brave, more able to stand pain and hell and torment of all kinds than anybody else he'd ever met. She was a broken thing and proud for it, all her broken parts leaning defiantly against each other. But he knew the cracks, the gaps.

His concentration shifted, this much easier, as he conjured simple tricks of the senses, careful but precise illusions. Satsi whipped around at the sound of footsteps, measured and noble, stalking behind her. She turned again at a throaty, deep baritone laugh from the branches. She startled and grabbed her arms as phantom fingers danced over them, not inflicting pain but brushing with delicate pleasure far more sinister. Red and white flashed in the treetops, on the platform, in the shadows cast by vines and ferns and flowers. Nothing solid, just little glimpses. But each one caught the woman's attention, made her gasp or growl or groan until she dropped to her knees, weapon discarded, clutching at her head and whimpering.

"You just want it to stop," Kordath repeated, calling out this time, waving his hand. His mind strained, gray matter peeling slowly apart, concentration stretched and will crumbling. But still, he managed, and Satsi flinched hard at the sound of his voice despite it being unaltered.

"Please, stop," sobbed the Human. She rocked in place. Whimpered. "Just kill me, please."

It wasn't the first time he'd heard her beg like that since they got her back from her Master. The Dark Side almost vibrated at the statement, dancing up and down the Ryn's spine the more he strained for control; of it, of her, of this blasted fight. It was patient and generous and very excited by what he was doing, pushing, pushing.

"Why don't you do it?" the Ryn called, feeling oddly detached from his own mouth. There wasn't any suggestion laced in the words, no extra pressure on her mind; he was too mentally tired for that now. But words were powerful even without the Force.

Satsi convulsed violently, as if shocked, or in the midst of vomiting. Her torn-up fingertips curled around her dropped pistol. One of the nails on her finger peeled all the way back when she jammed it into the trigger space.

She put the barrel between her teeth.

NO!

All at once, the Force screamed again, and this time Kordath screamed too, reaching out so fast he nearly toppled right out of his perch. Panic and adrenaline flooded him so fast it was like his chest was being crushed and he just yanked. The telekinetic tether jerked the pistol sideways even as the shot went off and a crack tore through the air, startling birds into flight. Scarlet sprayed from Satsi's face and she dropped to the deck. The Ryn shouted, pushing off his spot and landing hard in a tumble across the floorboards of the lower platform.

No no no no no no no no no.

His body moved, somehow. He scrambled on bare hands and knees over to his friend, ignoring the splinters digging into his flesh and his wounds and scratches and bruises. He tossed his knucklers away and frantically reached for her body, only hesitating a moment once he was close, wide-eyed and hyperventilating and terrified by the spread of blood, so much blood, too much blood spreading across the lumber. His heart was grinding against his ribs with how hard it pounded.

And then he saw her chest move. It was shallow, but it rose and fell.

Oh.

Oh.

Okay, they were sideways now, that was a thing. The Ryn let himself become a puddle there next to her for just a few seconds before he marshalled enough to reach out again and gently roll his friend over. She flopped bonelessly onto her back, still rasping breaths, and then he saw the source of the wet sound that had been tickling his ears, too unimportant for him to register before: there was a gaping, bloody hole in the side of her face, burned and splattered and downright awful, sharp, ruined bits of enamel poking out from gums and skin bleeding profusely. She'd blown out her cheek.

But she was alive.

Kordath let himself sag again, clumsily curling his body around hers as much as he could with all his limbs sort of numb and his nerves vibrating at speeds to do a hyperdrive shame. The crash was hard and immediate. Blackness swamped his vision, hot and heavy, and he went down with it, just barely conscious with his mind too far gone and his body too ready to fight or flee.

If there was anything to learn here, he was bloody dealing with it later. They'd fix his tail later. She'd probably cut off a chunk of hair just to replace the bits she'd removed; was just like her a thing to do. And there was the negotiations. Kelviin might come find them and panic. Or the Wooks.

But all of that was faraway and fuzzy. For the next few minutes, he could pass out, and this would be good enough. They'd not murdered each other in some stupid attempt at rescue.

His last thought was, Yep. Good 'nough.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing back there, suge?”

“Uhh,” Kord looked up, past his friend’s rounded backside and to her skeptical looking, bloody face staring down at him. “I, uh, was tryin’ ta slow ya down by pullin’ yer trousers down about yer knees.”

He glanced over his attempt; they hadn’t budged over her hips and rear. “Belt was just for bleedin’ show, eh?”

“Thought you’d have known that?” she teased, adding insult to the coming injury when she brought the hilt of her dagger down on the top of his head.

“Ow ow ow,” he groaned, falling back to the platform and clutching his head. “Kark me! Woman, that bloody hurt!”

“Aww, I’m so sorry, Bleuy,” she pursed her lips and teased, stalking towards him with measured steps. He’d been pulling tricks left and right, despite his lack of clothes, she wasn’t taking chances. “Maybe if you hadn’t shattered a bottle against the back of my head I’d have some restraint.”

“T’ain’t very ladylike ta be tellin’ lies, luv,” he groaned, trying to stand. Almost predictably, she kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling once more. “Ya know, this feels like we’re done, Red.”

She crouched over him, making a showing of spinning her knife in hand, light filtering from the forest catching on the blade.

“Is that what you’re gonna say to whoever comes and tries ta slice your face off, Kordy?” she asked, laying the side of her dagger against his cheek, the cold metal making his tail twitch. Her other hand rested not so lightly against his throat. “When they run ya down till you’re too tired to stand, you’re just gonna say ‘fair enuff, folks, ya caught me’ huh?”

“Terrible impression,” he muttered, getting a squeeze to his throat for his snark. “What da ya want from me, Sats? More bodyguards? Less goin’ out? Ya piled this job on me, mind ya I know why ya wanted out and I do not blame ya, but what am I ta do? Huh? I can nae just hide meself up in tha Citadel all tha time. If tha kiddies do nae see me workin’ ta better Selen, why should they trust me ta do anythin’?”

Brown eyes looked down on him with concern. “You won’t always have someone you trust at your back, Kord.”

He gave her a weak grin, “Aye, luv, but ya know me best talent has always been with me tongue, not tha fightin’.”

This time she flushed a little, much to his delight. He followed this up with a light hand on the forearm holding the dagger to his face, gently and reassuringly grasping it. The Ryn shifted where he lay on the platform, bringing his knees up to relieve pressure on his back and let his tail move more freely. He sighed despite himself, having the thing pinned beneath him was uncomfortable.

“So, you plan on talking your way out of trouble, sugah? Won’t work when they come with the torches and pitchforks,” she said with a grin, letting go of his throat to pat him on the other cheek.

“Talkin’ me way out? Nah, maybe a bit o’ misdirection,” he said with a flashier grin, catching her eyes widening. They really knew each other almost too well. His grip on her knife hand tightened, the Force flowing through him after talking his way through the brief respite, giving him added strength. His tail, free from being trapped under him, snaked up wrap about her neck, jerking her back enough to bring her upper back against his left knee.

“Sneaky little sleemo,” she managed to gasp before his right leg swung up to land the inside of his knee across her neck, dropping both his legs down to pin her in place. Still, his hands were occupied in the act of not getting stabbed with the dagger she still held, though at least she couldn’t quite reach his face anymore. He earned a few scores across his chest, blood seeping out while he tried to use his lower body strength to choke out his friend. Her struggles stopped abruptly, the dagger dropping onto his chest. He almost breathed a sigh of relief, almost, before looking for the hand he hadn’t secured and seeing it snake under his body.

“No, no, NO! OW!” he yelped, body writhing in pain when Satsi got a hand near the base of his tail and twisted. His movements let her sink teeth into the back of one of his knees, causing him to jerk away and give her breathing move. The Ryn kicked away, trying to disentangle himself from his sparring partner, scrambling away on hands and knees. A weight pressed down on him when she gave chase, landing against his bare back and pressing him down.

They both lay panting, a familiar warmth enveloping them both, broken when Satsi began laughing. She nipped his ear and rested the side of her head against his.

“At least you’re still resourceful, Kordy,” she said, running a hand into his hair and scratching. The Ryn did his best not to make a noise akin to a purr at this shift in attitude, instead just enjoying the closeness of his friend and sighing.

“Ya won, didn’t ya?”

“Made me work for it this time.”

“Mmm, good ‘nuff,” he muttered.

“Not for whoever tries ta kill ya, fuzzy moron. Kordy?” She pulled back a bit to squint at him with one eye and snorted. The Consul’s eyes were closed, lips quirked in a half smile as he began to snore against the platform. She hugged him, old friends having worked through some more crap, and debated a nap in the shade.