Either I'm gonna kill him or I'm beginning to like him.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa Meorrrei had started keeping a holo diary when she was nine years old. She'd kept it curated, so she knew even to the day when she'd started, which was 17 Ku'arraali in the 138th year of the Taikka. That day, she griped about her new braces. How they hurt her teeth, how she wasn't allowed to eat anything with bones until they were out, and how they made her look like a cyborg. That was the same week of the Haa'tarri Debutante Gala, and it was the first year she'd stopped thinking boys were gross and started considering they were...whatever they became when you were nine.

So, some thirty-three years later, the habit of journal keeping was hard to break. She sometimes didn't do an entry each day, but she never let a week pass between entries. If she did, there was the chance that a bad habit might kick in, and she might drop the tradition entirely. Ten thousand years from now, some advanced civilization might want to know what happened after her weekend holoflix binge and the cliffhanger confirmation that her mother was, yes indeed, still crazy. She couldn't let generations of future historians down.

So here she was at 22:50 hours. Not in bed, where she should have been half an hour ago, but at her desk, with the little lamp on the corner serving as the only illumination - casting her in a pale, cool light. She cradled a steaming cup of sienda'tai between her hands, waiting for the contents to cool enough for her to sip. Her hair was down, parted at the middle to let her straight locks drape over each shoulder. T'yeellaa sat on her feet in her office chair, wearing an old set of PT shorts and tee, because her usual pajamas were in the wash. That was fine, it was too hot for long sleeves.

Everything was in place, and the stage was set for T'yeellaa to spill her guts into her digital confidant, who would be trusted not to divulge it's secrets for the aforementioned ten thousand years. All she had to do was think about what she wanted to say.

But before that, T'yeellaa fidgeted with the holo diary menu, navigating to some older entries. As she took her first tentative sip of her steamed drink, she found one from three months ago. The K'ohta'rrou's ears raised slightly, and she hit play.

On her desktop, 1:1 sized bust of her own face and shoulders materialized. This version of T'yeellaa's hair was a muss, and she looked...not happy.

The flesh and blood T'yeellaa smiled in recollection. It was funny now. A little, at least.

"Todajy jiss...(cough)...twelve Tan'ssiekrra, one hundrred forrtjy ssecond jyearr of the Kaatho.

jI'm gojing to kjill Ssamuss."

[Q. Samus Dage]

* * *

He'd done it out of kindness. Out of chivalry. Because it seemed the right thing to do. Of course rarely do such capers go smoothly, nor do they really turn out well for the perpetrator, but that was just the way of things. Of course, it didn't mean he had to accept it without a fight. He was Samus Dage, after all. He'd fought with the Rebellion during the earliest days, and had been in too many bad situations to count. He was used to impossible odds and one-way tickets. They'd been his and Kori's specialty, in fact.

Now though, as he sat alone in T'yeellaa's quarters, he had to wonder if this particular mission was more a foolhardy endeavor rather than an act of mercy. This time would be different than the first time, he'd told himself.

Except...

It's not different at all, Samus, is it.

The deed had been done. What came next would be inevitable. Of course, he didn't have to take it sitting down. To be more precise he chose to take it sitting down. Sitting at the small kitchenette table with a bowl of cereal, Samus ate in silence, his eyes staring up at a small, fidgeting spot that rested atop the frame of a canvas print currently hanging up in the main living area.

T'yeellaa would be back from her shift soon, and as he methodically brought another spoonful of brightly colored Namana Loops into his mouth, the blonde did his level best to keep his movements as small as possible.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa had begun to work the lace cravat loose from her neck even before she passed through the threshold of her quarters. It had been a hellish day. Commander Akiena had been meeting with joint commands on sector defense, leaving K'ohta'rrou Meorrrei as the sole officer in charge on Jovan. And because all the real problems wait for this sort of opportunity to arise, everything had hit her at once. From impounding illegal livestock imports to a crash between two freighters attempting to dock at the same spire at once. She'd gone an hour over her shift, and the only things keeping her from tearing out some hair was the knowledge that Samus was back on station. The other key plus to her day was that she had a kaloo-walo waiting on her. It had been expensive to buy the food bird, but the normally-pragmatic Meorrrei figured that she deserved a splurge. The fat little chirpers were a nuissance on Iktotch, that is, until the Iktotchi learned that Cizerack had a taste for them, which had driven the price up, up, and up. Twenty credits for what was essentially over and done in two bites. Just thinking about it glazed T'yeellaa's eyes over a bit and elicited a growl from her empty stomach.

The door whooshed open, and T'yeellaa pulled her cravat free from around her collar, tossing it to the console table by the door as she worked the buttons open on her jacket.

"Ja irra gai tou."

Her favorite human looked rakish and decidely off duty sitting at the kitchenette table and eating that neon-colored kibble he'd insisted on leaving at her place. As long as he didn't leave a mess, he could eat an Umgul blob for all she cared.

peep peep

The bird sounds immediately roused T'yeellaa's starving insides as they twitched her ears...but they weren't coming from where she'd put the travel cage...which was empty on the very same console table.

peep

Now she'd isolated it's location, and T'yeellaa's eyes tracked to the top of one of her paintings...where the fat tasty kalloo-walo perched as if he owned the piece.

"Quentjin!" she hissed, and took half a step toward the painting, hoping to carefully...carefully...

fwoosh

In a blur of feathers, the kalloo-walo zoomed past her too-slow claw swipe, and the last she saw of the musical little morsel was a blue and yellow blur headed for the bedroom.

"Quentjin!"

[Q. Samus Dage]

His eyes went wide, his spoon paused halfway to his mouth.

The words that left his mouth were spoken in a forcibly shocked tone.

"What'd you do?!"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"What'd jI..?!"

T'yeellaa stammered on her words, her tail tuft poofing in the wake of his derailment.

"Quentjin! jIt'ss food, not a...pet! jIt'ss not herre to...to sserrenade jyou!"

She took a half step toward the bedroom, paused, and turned back in some half-baked thought at getting him back somehow. All she could manage was to swipe the spoon out of his hand and plant it in her mouth. She'd show him what it was like to work twelve hours, come home hangry, and have the one thing she was looking forward to foiled by...

A look of disgust formed on T'yeellaa's face as she turned to the sink to spit out her mouth of half-chewed cereal.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Hey!"

The indignant look on his face didn't last though, as she promptly spit up his intended spoonful of Namana Loops into the sink.

Still sitting, Dage leaned back in his chair as his eyes went from her to the hallway leading into her bedroom. He made a worried face, turning back to her with an almost pitiful look while offering a smile that he knew wouldn't help.

"But it's too pretty to eat... "

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa would simply have to soldier through the alien taste of Samus's forrda kibble still hanging cloyingly onto her tongue. She wasn't about to waste precious retort time by washing out her mouth.

"jYou'rre eatjing a bowl full of rrajinbow-colorred whateverr. jYourr arrgument jiss jinvaljid."

Her stomach cycled through another agonizing squelch, not at all sated by the poor teaser offered by Dage's bachelor chow. A teasing peep sounded from the bedroom, and T'yeellaa was done trying to find the why of it. She splashed onto the bed, hoping the sudden movement might flush the damned thing out of wherever it was hiding.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"No wait!"

He was out of his chair like a fired blaster, chasing after her with loping strides that brought him right over the top of her as she bombed herself onto the bed. Pinning her down with a hand at each of her wrists, Samus perched over her, his head cocked to the side as he waited for any other tell-tale peep.

Peep!

His eyes snapped to the vanity, and the avian beauty perched atop the mirror.

"Ssshhhh... "

One hand let go of one of her wrists, an extended index finger moving to press blindly against her lips.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

Oh, NOW you're helping?!

The thought went unspoken as Samus placed a placating finger at her taut lips. She scowled at him, and then to his finger, considering whether biting the offending digit might make her feel a little better about the situation. But then she might eat the finger. Now she was wondering what humans tasted like. Ugggh this was the sad state of affairs she'd come to. She was so hangry that she was half-heartedly considering sentient predation.

peep

The flying snack gave away its position, mercifully giving T'yeellaa's meat-starved brain a satisfying distraction.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Ow!!"

Pulling his hand away sharply, Dage rolled off of her with a scowl, suddenly far more interested in cradling a bitten finger than the bird on the vanity mirror.

"Eating Alliance officers is frowned upon, you know," he grumped.

And as if sensing that the vehicle of its' doom was no freed, the kalloo-walo took flight once more, darting down to zip past his head before swooping up into a corner of the room where it smacked into the wall, sliding down with a flurry of hapless wing-flapping into a pile of dirty clothes.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

T'yeellaa had never been so thankful for Samus leaving a random week's worth of untended laundry in the basket, and she shimmied off the bed with finesse to pounce into the small mountain of rumpled garments.

"Aha!"

She straddled the upended basket with a used sock on her head, and a hand full of bird held high in triumph.

[Q. Samus Dage]

Still sucking on his finger, Dage turned to look at T'yeellaa and her new prize. Triumphant though she was, he was reasonably certain that it wouldn't last. It certainly hadn't lasted for him.

"Careful, Kitten. That thing's slippery... "

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Thjiss jissn't mjy fjirrsst bjirrd, gai tou." T'yeellaa purred, easing back onto the bed with succulent little butterball in hand. The kalloo-walo's peeping became faster and louder, it's crest-plumed head pivoting left and right sharply as it tried to flap wings that were pressed to it's sides by a closed hand. The K'ohta'rrou ran a finger from the ridge of it's beak to the back of the head, working with the feather grain to smooth the crest down.

He had that look again. The look he got whenever she got peckish for live food. Eyes slightly larger, almost limpid. His bottom lip protruding slightly. It was like some kind of guilt ray.

"Sstop that."

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Stop what?"

Spoken with just the right amount of innocence lacing his tone, Samus leaned to the side, propping himself on an elbow as he continued to stare at her.

"I'm not the one partaking in some barbaric ritual. I mean, I don't play with my bowl of cereal before I eat it."

She didn't seem undaunted, and the blonde gave a defeated sigh as he sat back up.

"At least eat it not on the bed that we sleep in, ok?"

And as an afterthought, "... I hope you're not expecting me to kiss you any time later tonight."

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Barrbarrjic? Plajyjing?"

Of course he knew what he was doing. She couldn't even have one decent bite in his company without him implying that she was a rancor set loose on a village of orphans.

He at least had a point about the bed. She'd had a belt taken to her by her fathers more than once from leaving feathers or sajoi tails in bed after a midnight snack.

T'yeellaa slid off the bed, taking the kalloo-walo with her back to the kitchenette when he fired off his cruel ultimatum.

"jYou'rre makjing me choosse between jyou and the bjirrd?"

[Q. Samus Dage]

"You do realize that the last time I was here, I found a tail underneath my pillow, right?"

Slowly getting up, Dage meandered along after her.

"And it wasn't fresh, either. I mean, do you sleep-snack when I'm not around?"

But there was a tick at one corner of his mouth as he spoke, and sidling up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her midsection while leaning down to kiss the top of her head. And before she could respond, his hands pulled back and up, fingers finding those delightfully sensitive spots just beneath her arms with a particular vengeance.

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"What do jyou take me forr, ssome kjind of..."

And right in the midst of her rebuttal, T'yeellaa accessed a sleep-addled memory from two weeks ago involving a bottle of wine, holoflix, and a twenty-piece fuzzy box from Maa'kidoaa...

The brief glimpse of sheepish guilt disappeared behind her redoubled annoyance at being distracted.

"jYou know, jI..."

And before she could even mount a proper retort, Samus slipped his lanky arms past her defenses. By violent reflex T'yeellaa tried to drop her elbows to her sides, but he'd had the element of surprise on his side. Ai'kosa, she rued the day he'd ever discovered how ticklish she was. Her face locked down in firm defiance. She wouldn't let him. Not this time!

That lasted for about half a second as T'yeellaa's eyes squeezed shut and her mouth yowled in pained laughter so intense that her knees buckled.

She also let go of the kalloo-walo, but in the throes of Samus's assault she couldn't protest the fact even if she tried.

[Q. Samus Dage]

"Ha!"

His victory assured, Samus stopped his tickling fingers and gripped her tightly, strong hands making sure she couldn't escape lest she literally scale over the countertop after her prize. He knew she was a tenacious creature who usually got what she wanted - hells, he was here with her now, wasn't he? Though, truth be told he was in no way complaining. Samus Dage rather like T'yeellaa Meorrrei, and soaked up every moment that he was able to spend with her. Even if it meant conspiring with her food.

The kalloo-walo darted up and into the living area once more, alighting upon a wall-mounted candle sconce. It wasn't really a candle though; electronic trickery and a few small shocks had been all that was needed to mount the thing. Though now it had been made the perch of a frightened bird.

Peep peep!

Samus still held on to T'yeellaa, doing his best to make sure that she was as reigned in as possible. The woman was irrational whenever she got hungry enough, he'd learned that much.

Peep peep! peepeepeep!

"Come on now, Kitten," he grunted, keeping her at bay, "How about a Sith Jim? Or maybe some rice with butter and shaak bits?"

[T'yeellaa Meorrrei]

"Quentjin! Sstop! jYou'rre...wrrjinkljing mjy unjiforrm!"

It was the best she could muster as she turned and shimmied in his wiry grasp, using her tail to whip against him left and right as she tried to find a way to get out of his grasp without doing something serious like tackling him into the coffee table.

As she wiggled and grunted, the two pair of mock combatants shuffled towards the front door, eventually struggling into range of the motion sensor. The doors slid open with a whoosh, and a brightly colored blur brushed against T'yeellaa's hair, sailing past her and through the sudden portal to freedom with a final triumphant peep!

T'yeellaa's head whipped around to track the kalloo-walo, but she only got a fleeting glimpse of tail feathers as it sailed out into the wilds of Jovan Station. Her head quickly righted itself, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Noooo!"

[Q. Samus Dage]

He watched the bird zip through the doorway and disappear down the corridor. Not exactly the outcome he'd expected, but in the grand scheme of things no really surprising.

Still holding on to T'yeellaa, Dage gave a huffed breath, finally releasing her as he righted himself. He let out a small cough before brushing a hand down the front of his shirt.

"My mission is done, then."

His tone was weighty, as though he alone had freed an entirety of prisoners from an Imperial stronghold. e rolled his shoulders, looking every bit the unsung savior of the day. The look on T'yeellaa's face though, as she turned around, was enough to quell his heroic thoughts. He gave her a sweet smile.

"Want a bowl of Namana Loops?"