"What about afterwards? Do you ever think about it?" Rel had asked.

"No. I don't."

It was, of course, a pure lie.

A combat situation was life boiled down to its simplest functions. Do what it takes to finish the objective, or just stay alive. Everything was honest and clear in those moments, but afterwards the fear and confusion, the mistakes and what-could-have-beens rose up like a fog and she could see her worst nightmares lurking in some future timeline, waiting for a chance to become reality ...

Yeah, Rel, I think about it. All the time. Everywhere. I can't stop, no matter how hard I try to forget. And sometimes I try very, very hard.

Var saw her ghostly reflection in the transparisteel - battered armor and a face that seemed older than her own.

I'm failing at this, mom, she thought. What am I supposed to do? Do I tell her it never gets better? Do I tell her that her life depends on her screw-up older sister being able to hold herself together just long enough to find her a place to hide? If I were her I'd be scared out of my mind. Hell, I'm scared out of my mind.

You told me how to break a situation down. How to set priorities and use them to keep calm when everything is going to dar'yaim around you, when everyone needs you the most. You taught me how to stop thinking and just anticipate and act. You told me there was no way to change events in the past so it was a waste of energy to dwell on it, or feel guilt, or worry about the far future. Focus on the next task. Take your happiness while you can. Figure out what is important at that moment and blast the rest.

I don't know, mom. I don't think that advice worked out so well for me. I just don't know what to tell Rel that will make it better, and not worse. I wish it was a question she never had to ask.

Var watched the rapidly approaching edge of civilization, glittering with lights, and felt the urge to run a last futile check of her armor and equipment. Three hours to planetary bombardment. Three hours to talk to Kerin Seltiss and figure out how to get to the next location, if he even knew anything. She wondered if the Twi'lek died when his craft disintegrated and decided it didn't matter. He probably already passed along the SoroSuub's information. It would be best to switch passage to a different craft, but that could involve more negotiating than she had time or patience to tolerate. Var wrinkled her nose. They might be stuck with the runaway admiral and his goofy band of half-wit aspiring terrorists. On the up side, Viridian was certain to be keen on disappearing and between the various agencies pursuing the others it would be easy to disguise the attention of one pissed-off smuggler king. On the down side, there was the potential of being caught in the crossfire of their collective enemies, and some enemies were worse than others. The Empire would probably not stop to consider the guilt or innocence of Viridian's passengers in their efforts to eliminate him.

Var didn't like it. The admiral seemed alright for a wanted man, but the holostar was a pampered priss, the wookie was unable to mind her own furry business, slippery Summana was already a walking paycheck and Kluw Than was a delusional psychotic who seemed obsessed with "saving" Rel, which was kind of insulting now that she thought about it. If her pad was updated with bounties on all of them, she wouldn't be surprised. Bunch of criminals.

But Rel liked the admiral and the ship, and it was the most convenient, cheapest ticket off the planet.

Var scrubbed her fingers through her hair and turned away from the windows, heading to the cargo bay with her helmet under her arm. At least one thing was certain. If she and Rel returned to the Privilege, she would have to sit down with the admiral and have a serious chat about inappropriate gifts for thirteen year olds, among other things.