"You know you don’t have to do this," Fenn Logan said, sitting atop the CORT Xunrunner next to Joanna Rake who was in a repair access well, making adjustments. She continued working for a moment then sat back, throwing her head back to look up at the cavernous ceiling of the SSD Avenger’s hangar bay. Hunter Country if she recalled correctly. Fenn’s Squadron before he was promoted to Wing Commander. She let out a heavy sigh. Strands of silvery gray hair spilled loose from the confines of a red, yellow and orange sunburst patterned bandana.

"So much for me trying to increase shield recharge rate on this thing," she said. "I suppose that’s a fair trade off."

Fenn chuckled, looking briefly at the dorsal gunpod and its quad turbo lasers. Capital ship grade weaponry he reminded himself. He didn’t even want to wonder about the contacts she had to acquire such hardware. He looked across the bustling hangar bay at the Firespray that sat in its reclined position, all matte black that blended with the shadows. It would be a sucker bet that its armament, both the dual laser and its companion dual ion cannon were also capital ship grade. Jo and Savannah shopped at the same place. They were definitely armed to take care of themselves in deep space and unknown territory.

Joanna paused momentarily to gaze into Fenn’s face. "You really are worried. Honey, you know I do this for a living."

"I know, I know. It’s just that I’m not comfortable with you doing it for the Emperor’s Hammer. That entails additional risk."

Joanna snorted. "Define ‘additional risk’. Being shot at is still being shot at. It doesn’t matter by whom or why. And if I recall, Savannah had to pull your butt out of the fire."

"Ouch," Fenn said. "Point taken." He was silent because he didn’t know what else to say. She was right. He looked at her when she laid a gentle palm on his cheek.

"Sweetie, I know what I let myself in for when I got involved with you. I’m not gonna suddenly turn stupid just because the stakes are a bit higher." She guided his lips to hers and they kissed deeply. "If doing things like this for your EH thugs helps keeps you safe, then I am more than willing to do them."

Fenn smiled, reached up and tucked a silvery lock of hair back under the bandana. "Okay. I promise. We won’t ever have this conversation again."

Joanna clambered out of the repair well, pushed Fenn back, then straddled him. She leaned down nose to nose and whispered, "it makes me warm knowing you care about my safety. I can’t explain it, but no matter where I am, I feel… protected."

"Yeah, right," Fenn snorted.

Joanna knew the source of that reply and said simply, "I am sorry you went through that ordeal, even though I am glad it was I you thought of when you were absolutely certain of your death. It’s that quality that makes me feel protected." She slapped him on the chest with both hands and raised up. "Besides, you probably needed humbling anyway. I know you Professional Thug types. You go around, surviving for so long, you think you’re invincible. So the Force throws you a little something to remind you that you aren’t."

Fenn laughed outright. "Okay, okay. Lesson duly noted and logged."

Joanna kissed him on the forehead, stood up and pulled him to his feet. "So how was your trip to Herkti III?"

"Interesting," Fenn said, raising his brows. "My own people almost shot my ass off, but I suppose that’s understandable, all things considered."

Joanna’s laughter caused a resonant smile on Fenn’s face. "It’s been a long time, but I don’t have to sneak home anymore. Man, that feels weird."

Joanna smiled, was suddenly serious. "This new BGCOM you got. Do you trust him?"

Fenn chuckled, said, "Funny you should ask that. We seem to be in the exact same rank grade advancement that we were back when I was a scrub pilot in Butcher."

"I find it hard picturing you as a scrub pilot. You must have had some skills, you survived Darth Vader’s tenure."

"How’d you find out about that?" Fenn looked at Joanna in surprise.

"I have my sources."

Fenn once again looked at the capital ship grade weaponry. "Riiiiight."

"But you were saying?" she prompted.

"It was Tiger as squadron commander, ShadowHawk as my Flight Leader, then of course me the scrub pilot. I’m not sure, but I believe Firefox was the Wing Commander, but he doesn’t apply to the situation—he was jumped sideways in promotion. Now it’s Tiger as the BGCOM, ShadowHawk as my COM, then of course me, the scrub Wing Commander."

Joanna laughed as she clambered down the access ladder into the Xunrunner. Fenn followed her to the cockpit where she ran a systems check then sighed dejectedly.

"No go?"

"Nope. Still takes twice as long to charge shields."

"But aren’t they tuned to a denser matrix?"

"You’re point being?"

"You can hang in a knifefight long enough for those big guns to take out mooks, so long as you don’t get yourself swarmed."

"That’s sound tactical advice," Joanna said with a laugh.

A lone figure strolled across the busy hanger, drawing looks from nearby personnel, pilots and crewmen alike. The matte black Mandaloran armor with red detailing said it was only one person. The Ghost Hawk. His sister Savannah. Her two Blastech pistols rode low on her thighs and an Imperial Repeater Gun was slung muzzle down at her back. She didn’t seem to be carrying any other weapons, but Fenn knew for a fact she carried her own bone-handle Nohgri Long Knife, and an 18 inch length of chain, weighted at both ends, that she used in close quarters combat. Additionally, the armor itself had a micro rocket launcher and grappling line/flechette launcher. At the moment, the bullet helmet rode on her belt just behind her elbow. Her hair, the same reddish brown shade as Fenn’s, was pulled tight against her skull into a short, almost non-existent tail. Probably cut thus to accommodate the helmet.

"Mmm, doesn’t she look tough," Joanna remarked, propping her face in her hands as she watched Savannah stroll confidently towards Xunrunner.

"She’s come a long way for having spent 17 years as Jabba’s pleasure slave," Fenn remarked.

"Taught you a few things I see," Joanna said, unlimbering a hand long enough to tap the dangling holster of Fenn’s bone-handled Long Knife. "Do you sleep with that thing?"

Fenn blinked in surprise, realizing indeed that when he wasn’t with Joanna, he did sleep with the knife on. "Damn. I must be getting paranoid in my old age."

Joanna laughed and pulled him into a tender hug. "She’s coming with that ‘We Gotta Go’ walk. Which means, we gotta go." She kissed him then, so languid and deep, his toes curled up inside his boots. When the kiss broke, she smacked him on the butt. "Now get outta here, we gots wimmin work to do. Say ‘hi’ to Mo for me."

Fenn was a little embarrassed as Savannah entered the cockpit. She kissed her brother on the cheek and gave him a warm smile, then turned to Joanna.

"Come on, Jo—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We gotta get going." To Fenn, she said, " I have some really good contacts, but that also means—"

"You’ve got some drek contacts as well," Fenn completed.

"This one"—Joanna made an iffy gesture with a hand—"he could be a flake, but the opportunity here is too big to not at least check out."

"And I’m there to watch her back," Savannah said.

"Of course," Fenn agreed. "I’m really proud of what you have done—what you have become in spite of me not—"

Savannah reached out an armored hand and gently placed a finger against his lips. "We’ve already had this conversation, Fenn. You have nothing to be guilty about or ashamed of in what happened to me, okay? We are all where we want to be now and how we got here is irrelevant. I love you, big brother. Whoever wants to do you harm has to go through me to get to you."

Fenn smiled. "Now you are the protector."

"You were there when I needed you the most. You taught me how to be tough. And ruthless. That’s what got me through the 17 years under Jabba’s thumb before I escaped. So. You see? You have been protecting me all along. You’re crying."

"What?" Fenn said, blinking rapidly. "All this biographite flying in the air from those techs—"

"You’re indoors," Joanna pointed out smugly.

"If this gets out that the two of you emotionally bushwhacked me, I’m going to stuff you both into the reaction chamber of the Avenger’s engines, a’ight?"

Both women cracked up with laughter.

"I see the Nar Shaddaa streets have creeped back into your language, Sweetie," Joanna said.

"Yes, dear," Savannah added, patting him gently on the cheek before donning her helmet and departing amidst the swirl of her short cloak.

"I’d sure hate to be anyone that got in that woman’s way," Fenn remarked. "Or yours," he added softly, focussing on her violet eyes. They were clear and deep, and it wasn’t the first time he’d lost himself in their depths.

Joanna licked her lips. "Gods, I wish I had the time to boink you. You are so damned sexy when you’re vulnerable."

Fenn blinked as she pressed the length of her body against him.

"You absolutely sure you don’t have the time?" he said, a little breathy.

In response, Joanna rested her buttocks against the edge of the console, stabbed a button, and said, "Cricket, do a detailed maintenance check on the hyperdrive motivator relays. I don’t want to get stuck somewhere not nice because we suddenly don’t have a hyperdrive."

The R2 unit’s happy chortle sounding from somewhere in the depths of Xunrunner filled the cabin.

Joanna stabbed the external commlink. "Meet you at the Zann Industrial Complex, Savannah. Something I have to take care of." She and Fenn watched the oddly shaped attack ship rise from the deck and rotate into its vertical flight orientation, the rounded canopy at the top of the long fuselage, the opposite end tipped by the deadly turbo laser/ion cannon assembly. The stubby wings locked into S-Foil attack position and Savannah’s Revenge glided out of the open hangar bay.

Savannah’s response had Fenn and Joanna laughing right before the Revenge made the jump to lightspeed.

It was, "Rent a room."

[To be continued in the XWA Battle: Terminal Frost]