It Takes Only One/story

"Ask him."

The voice was quiet by local standards; musical and compelling like all Jubill voices, but probably too low for a Jubill at this distance to hear it. The six-piece string quartet alone nearly drowned it out, let alone the dozens of other conversations in the palatial upper dining room. Renamo's more sensitive Nei ears caught the comment, but he decided to ignore it. Instead, he glanced at the young woman beside him, wearing the frilled collar currently in vogue among the native populace, and said, "Those three at table nine work in the Consul's office, Juna. Let's make sure they enjoy their evening."

Juna flashed him the bedazzling smile only a Jubill could flash, her waxy skin almost glowing under the soft lights, and said, "One step ahead of you, boss."

Renamo watched as a pair of Jubill, bearing a platter of artfully arranged food and accompanied by his Iscali sous chef, arrived at table nine to present the patrons' dinner. Cocking his head to one side to listen, he heard the guests murmur appreciatively. Juna gave him a smug look before sauntering off toward another table, swishing her hips the way it seemed every twenty-year-old Jubill female was required to do.

Rolling his eyes, Renamo turned to glance subtly at his important guests, but he caught another murmur as a female voice said, "They say he is. C'mon, ask him."

"Give me a break. The guy's gotta be fifty."

"He's an alien! How do you know how old he is?"

Sending the look from the corner of his bright green eyes toward the whisperers instead, Renamo saw two Jubill couples in a corner booth, all looking his way. They looked far too young to be here, barely more than children—of the whole Kemset restaurant chain, Currolichey was by far the most expensive and catered to the most exclusive clientele. The two boys wore formal suits, and the girls the garlands of multicolor flowers around their necks that decades on Classaeria had taught Renamo to associate with school dances.

He wondered idly which of their parents was picking up the tab.

The four Jubill lowered their voices, but kept darting looks his way with their large, bright eyes, and finally Renamo sighed. Adjusting the formal scarf around his neck with one clawed hand, he slipped through the room, breathing the faint perfume his native staff had laced through the air. His tail coiled and flicked behind him as he took a roundabout path to the table of dinner-daters, stopping to shake hands with a Jubill judge and a Hudrelan spaceport administrator.

The Jubill might match the Nei for grace, Renamo thought with a hint of pride, but there was no equaling a feline for quiet. By the time he slipped up to the booth from the shadows behind a towering imported fern, all four of the youths were looking around in confusion. Renamo gave himself a moment to smile, then slipped into view.

"Enjoying your dinner?" he asked, his silken tenor purr rolling off his tongue. All four of the kids jumped, then looked down at their forgotten meals with awkward expressions. One girl tugged anxiously at a lock of dyed-silver hair curled elegantly to pool in the hollow of her throat.

"It's…it's great," one of the boys managed to say, the compelling, almost hypnotic lilt of his voice weakened by stress.

"Excellent," Renamo said, giving them a smile which showed his long fangs. "We always hope our clients have the very best of experiences here."

They didn't seem to know what to say; all four looked down, but kept glancing up. Three of them opened their mouths, but when the Nei turned an inquisitive gaze on them, seemed to reconsider their words. The girl with the dyed hair alone continued to look down.

He might have left it alone, but Renamo sighed, glanced around—the booth was isolated enough that Mommy and Daddy must have given the founder of the feast extra to tip for the privacy—and then rested his hands on the edge of the table. His glossy claws clicked gently against the kava tree wood.

"There was something you wanted to ask?" he inquired gently; he smiled, though he could feel resignation tighten his eyes.

Again three of them shuffled uncomfortably, searching for their nerve and coming up dry. But the girl in the corner took a deep breath and looked up. Her flawless face turned Renamo's way, and the twin sapphires of her eyes gleaming in the candlelight on the table. She swallowed, then leaned forward as if inviting a confidence and whispered, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Renamo replied for form's sake.

"Are you the man who killed Kilwyo Kesh?"

*			*			*

While it might not be the cleanest place on Vedros IV, the Miner's Daughter wasn't the warehouse, so Renamo Kemset wasn't going to complain. Not about the bar, anyway. He hadn't yet had a chance to thoroughly wash the grime off his hands; he'd taken the worst of it off his palms with the sonic sink in the warehouse's utility room, but some of it had gotten caked under his claws, and that would require a bit more effort.

When Fiducia walked in, a tray of drinks under one arm and the usual smile on her face, Renamo started to regret not taking the time. The ruby curve of her lips masked her sharp fangs, but the gently pointed ears on the top of her head twitched toward loud sounds, from a group to raucous men monopolizing one end of the bar to a crash of dishes in the kitchen. Her auburn-furred tail flicked behind her, and her tank top showed the patches and tuft of fur on her bare arms. Her long mane of auburn hair usually flowed down her back, though Renamo noticed she kept it in a ponytail at the bar. He also saw she had filed down her claws again—probably trying not to scare off the customers.

He sighed at that thought, but had to admit that, apart from Fiducia, he hadn't seen another Nei in the six months he'd been stranded on this moon. Mostly the usual suspects of species that were everywhere in the Empire—Humans, Mezzels, Hudrelans, Iscali, and Doloy. Apart from the Ossak bartender behind the counter and a handful of others, there wasn't too much more in the way of variety.

Not usually, anyway. A chorus of laughs drew Renamo's eyes to the group at the bar, and he thought he recognized a reptilian Zyked in their midst, and what was either a Synnott or a very hairy Human at the center of it all. They didn't look much like miners; more like a space crew. Renamo briefly wondered whether he had enough scraped together to pay them for passage somewhere else.

The representative at Harnro Shipping had smiled sympathetically as he made it very clear that the company wasn't planning to rehire its laid-off office staff until it had a solid commitment from more of the mining firms. A number of Renamo's fellow former staffers were spending a lot more time in the Miner's Daughter and places like it since then.

Renamo hadn't given up hope, but the initial hiring boom—kicked off by the discovery of Vedros, the Empire's only source of tibanna gas—had come and gone years ago. Most of the mining was performed by droid-controlled ships with minimal sentient crews. The processing stations which turned raw tibanna into the gas which powered turbolaser cannons were all staffed by specialists. Even the warehouses in need of stockers and the kitchens looking for dishwashers didn't want full-time staff, just part-timers who were easy to hire and easy to train.

And, if they proved at all unreliable, easy to replace.

But with practically no arable land, Vedros IV had to import food from its more fertile neighbors. That meant warehouse upon warehouse of foodstuffs, stocked before distribution to the mining support colonies. And all that labor meant—for owners too cheap to invest in buying and maintain droids—a handful of jobs that paid cash and didn't ask for references.

"You buying somethin', Renny?"

The Nei looked up and saw the bald Human Jarv Chent giving him a sour look, a towel over one shoulder and a datapad in his hand.

"Er…" Renamo stuttered over his reply. He had hoped Fiducia would be the one to walk over. She had a way of smiling that made the long days at the warehouse seem worth it. He glanced over, but she was talked to a pair of Leiks in the shadows, her tail swishing in the air behind her.

"What, you don't eat unless one of your people is serving you?" Jarv demanded.

The hair on Renamo's temples and sideburns stiffened in embarrassment. "No! No, of course not…I mean, that's not—"

"So what's it gonna be?"

He spared a second look at Fiducia. She had finished with the Leiks and was heading in his direction…

"Hey." Jarv's voice commanded his attention. The Human leaned down, placing his thick hands on the table, and said firmly, "You buying, or you walking?"

Sighing in defeat, Renamo said, "Buying. I'll just have the carnivore's plate."

Jarv nodded and started to type on his datapad. Fiducia walked behind him without stopping, but she glanced over her shoulder and smiled as Jarv asked, "You drinking anything with that?"

Fiducia was still within earshot, and Renamo added impulsively and more loudly, "Maybe I'll try one of those imported Kasci brandies you were telling me about."

Fiducia looked back curiously, but Jarv chortled and slapped Renamo on the shoulder. "Yeah, that's a good one, kid. Unless they're paying you a lot more in that dirt factory of yours these days, you couldn't afford the bottle, let alone what's in it.  I'll bring you a beer."

He walked off still laughing, and Renamo met Fiducia's eyes for only a moment before looking away shamefacedly, his ears flattening down against his head. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat with a clink of metal and a squeak of leather; he still had his factory toolbelt on, and his utility vibro-cutter bumped against his hydrospanner. Staring determinedly down at the vague patterns in the off-white table, he didn't look up until he heard Fiducia asking someone else's order.

Sighing, he watched her for a minute, then studied the men at the bar. They were all armed, most carrying blasters and vibroblades, but their clothes were clean for the most part, and the hairy guy and those closest to him looked like their boots cost more than Renamo's paycheck. The Nei couldn't resist studying his own clothes. He had worn a couple holes in his jacket, but it was the only thing covering his pale blue work coveralls.

He imagined what it would be like if he had clothes like that, if he could just drop the credits for a Kasci brandy for no reason other than that he was thirsty. The tabletop couldn't keep his mental focus, and it was easy to imagine walking in dressed like…well, not some high society dandy, but maybe a ship captain. The officer in charge of one of the mining vessels. Or if Harnro ever did hire him back, he could move up the food chain. If he was Regional Director of Operations for this rock, it would be easy to walk into the Miner's Daughter like he owned the place…

For that matter, it would probably be easy to own the place.

And if he could come in here like that—like somebody who could buy out the place and everything in it, instead of a part-time box boy who had to order the cheapest thing on the menu—then it would be easy to walk right up to Fiducia and ask her to share a drink…to go for dinner somewhere better than this place…maybe to spend some time together where they could just talk and—

"Here ya go." Jarv dropped the plate of assorted meats on Renamo's table, wrenching him back to reality from the pleasant evening stroll he and Fiducia had been taking in his mind. Startled, he flinched back and raised his clawed hands, but Jarv just laughed. "Eat something, kid, you're spacing out on me."

As he started to walk away, Renamo finally glanced down and called, "Hey. Hey!  What about my beer?"

"I brought you that," said a husky, feminine voice.

Renamo looked up, and Fiducia smiled down at him, setting his beer in front of his hand. Resting both of her hands on the chair opposite, she leaned down to put her head almost level with his. Her modest tank top rose almost to her neck, but hugged her curvy form in a way that made Renamo swallow. A curl of her auburn hair had fallen loose and draped next to one of her green eyes.

"Uh…thanks," he managed, trying not to cringe at the weak reply which was all he could muster.

"No problem," she smiled back. "How was work today, Renamo?"

He appreciated her calling him by his full name. "Oh…you know…same as usual," he offered lamely, then added hastily, "How about you?"

Fiducia twitched, as if she had been about to look over her shoulder but thought better of it. "To tell you the truth," she admitted, her ears lowering a bit, "I'm trying to keep away from the 'special guests'."

Even as she spoke, there was a clamor from the bar, and Renamo looked over. The hairy man was pounding on the bar, voluminous beard hanging to his sternum, dreadlocks framing his face. The Zyked and what looked like a Human with a brutally short buzz cut stepped to either side of him. The Ossak bartender stepped over obediently, but the hairy man waved him off impatiently. "Not you. Send your boss over."

Warda Grobb had never been in the habit of taking attitude from any of his patrons; Renamo had once seen him eject four unruly drinkers, one in each hand, flinging them into the street. So he could only stare as the Ossak trundled off without a word and was replaced by the Doloy who owned the bar, but whose name Renamo had never caught.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" he asked, his voice polite but tremulous.

The question elicited a chorus of laughs. "'Gentlemen'!" a Sev'laya laughed nastily. "There's one we don't hear too much!"

"Speak for yourself," the buzz cut humanoid said coolly. Looking the Sev'laya over, he added, "I'll bet you don't."

The Sev'laya started to say something back, but the hairy man pushed them both apart. "Knock it off," he growled, then looked at the Doloy owner. "Is this the best service you've got?"

The Doloy stammered, but the Zyked hissed a high laugh. "It's not paying attention to us," he cackled. "Scrawny little thing doesn't like looking at real men. Just wants to go home and plow whatever little stick of a Doloy it got to marry it."

"Yeah, but that'll only take a few seconds, how long can it take to fantasize about?" a Mezzel in the gang shouted, loud enough to be heard all through the bar. The group around him guffawed, and several raised their glasses before drinking.

"Sir, that's not it," the Doloy insisted awkwardly. "Anything you need, we'll be happy—"

"Are you married?" the hairy man cut him off.

"I…"

"Well?" the bald humanoid demanded. He raised one hand, and Renamo thought he could see sparks flicking between the man's fingers. A Soju, that's what he was.

The owner swallowed. "Yes. Yes, sir, I am."

The hairy man smiled, then caught the Doloy by the lapel of his shirt and tugged him over. It didn't look like a hard pull, but the Doloy offered no resistance at all. "That's nice," the leader said. "Real nice. She a nice pretty little thing?  All green like you people?"

"I…"

"You wouldn't want her to not be pretty, would you?" the hairy man asked in a sweet tone. He gestured to the Zyked beside him. "She wouldn't look so good with a nice big smile like my buddy here, would she?"

The Zyked opened his enormous mouth, wide enough to snap off a Nei child's head. The blood drained from the Doloy's face until his green skin was almost as white as his hair. He whispered just loudly enough for Renamo's sensitive ears to hear, "No…please, she's not—"

"Yeah, look only really works for them," the hairy man agreed at full volume, then added darkly, "So let's not test the look out on her, and let's make sure my boys and I don't see the bottom of our glasses. Sound good to you?"

"Y-yes sir. Yes, that's—"

"Swell." The hairy man pushed the owner back across the bartender's space, then turned back to his companions.

Fiducia's tail was twitching nervously, brushing the floor. Renamo stared a moment longer, then looked up at her blankly. "Who are these guys?"

"I…" Her husky voice higher now, Fiducia gave Renamo an uneasy look. "I shouldn't talk about it. We're not supposed to say…"

"FIDUCIA!" the Doloy owner bellowed from across the bar. "Get back to work!"

She jumped, ears flattening back flush with her skull. "Right away, sir!" she said. Glancing down at Renamo, she added hurriedly as she started away, "Sorry, Renamo. I have to go."

He watched her as she darted across the bar, feeling perplexed and wary. He and Fiducia hadn't had as many chances to talk as he would have liked, but she had always spoken highly of her boss. And Renamo himself was enough of a regular to know the Doloy didn't yell at his employees, at least not in front of patrons.

He shot a furtive glance at the group at the bar. Who were these people?

Not looking carefully, he reached for his beer but hit it with his hand instead. His feline reflexes were equal to the challenge of catching the glass, but not before it had spilled half its contents on the table. He almost called out to apologize, but stopped himself; he was terrified of calling anyone over and getting that person yelled at too, let alone what would happen if the Doloy saw Fiducia over here again so soon.

Getting to his feet, he walked over to the bar, giving the hairy man and his entourage as wide berth as possible. Warda rotated his chest toward Renamo so the eyes embedded in his chest could see. "I'll take another beer."

"Coming up," the croaking voice came from the mouth between the Ossak's shoulders. As he bent over a cooling unit, Renamo glanced surreptitiously at the men. They were a mix of species, some shorter than Renamo himself and others towering over him, but it was clear that the man with the dreadlocks was the leader. He was central to the group, and when he said a joke, the others all laughed as if responding to programming.

A female Ousan waitress carried over a tray of drinks, and one of the Humans spared her a critical look before he called, "Oy, owner! This the best you got?"

The Doloy said hurriedly, "If you want something else to drink, we've got—"

"The swill's as good as we're gonna get on this miserable little rock," the Human interrupted. "I mean your staff! Send us something worth looking at!  The beer makes me nauseous enough as it is."

The scales on the Ousan's flesh turned a mix of dark blue and yellow, and she hurried away, leaving the insults behind her. A Mezzel complained, "Come on, Killie, there are no good women here. Why couldn't we find a nice brothel?  Surely even this place must have one."

"Because we're flying out in the morning," the hirsute leader replied dryly, "and it's easier to pry you away from a bottle than a bitch."

The men laughed, but Renamo felt cold. He looked again, and this time he took a real look at the man in the middle. The hair of his beard was matched by his long dreadlocks and his shaggy sideburns, and the backs of his hands and fingers were hairy too. His face was khaki and nasty-looking, his deep-set eyes narrowed. He wasn't a Human, Renamo realized, the species just looked similar. He was a Synnott.

Killie, they had called him…

The broadcast had been everywhere on the Royal HoloNet in recent weeks. Renamo had seen it himself at least three times a day, and he only saw the HoloNet at all in the breakroom and at the bars. But it had been short and to the point, and so chilling that it had drilled itself into his memory.

''The pirate Kilwyo Kesh, having committed numerous and egregious offenses against the people and systems of the Golden Empire, is declared by Her Imperial Majesty Queen Rin the Invincible to be an Enemy of the Empire. Any citizen who can do him harm or bring him to justice is obliged to do so.''

Kilwyo Kesh. It was impossible, but it had to be. The leader of the Nightside Raiders was here in this dingy bar, standing five meters away without a care in the world. Renamo looked again to make sure—there had been a holoimage of Kesh to go along with the declaration from the Queen—and this time he found the Synnott looking back.

A cold jab against his knuckles made him start, and he found Warda's narrowed eyes on him. "Here. No charge.  Go sit back down."

Nodding and swallowing, Renamo took the beer and started back toward the table.

"Going somewhere, kitty cat?"

He stopped and looked back. Kesh was staring at him, and a few of his companions—a few Nightside Raiders, Renamo realized with a sinking feeling—had moved out of the way so their boss had a clear line of sight. One of Kesh's hands lay atop the blaster holstered in a cross-draw position across his belt; the other draped carelessly over the bar behind him.

"I…" Renamo started. He pointed back toward his table with his free hand, raising his beer and taking a step backward. In a flash the Human and the Sev'laya were on either side of him, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him forward into the midst of the Raiders. The beer sloshed in his hand until the Sev'laya pulled it away and tossed it on the ground. Renamo could see most of the patrons looking his way, then back to their drinks. Fiducia was watching with wide, frightened eyes, but Jarv had a restraining hand on her shoulder. His face was grim.

Kesh took a shot glass off the bar, drained it, and tossed it carelessly over his shoulder. Pushing off, he stepped up to Renamo, who looked up to meet the Synnott's eyes. "Something on your mind, boy?"

"No," Renamo replied hastily. The next second, a flash of pain lanced through his side and he gasped, sagging in the grip of the aliens holding him.

"I'm sure what you meant was 'No, sir'," the Soju beside Kesh said.

"No, sir!" Renamo gasped.

Kesh grabbed him by the hair, jerking his head up so their eyes met again. "I don't like people staring at me. Makes me antsy." The fingers of his free hand drummed the handle of his holstered pistol. "Twitchy, even."

"I'm sorry. Sir!" he added hastily.

Several of the Raiders snickered, and Kesh laid his hairy hand on Renamo's jaw, peeling his lips back to expose his fangs and sharp teeth. The Synnott clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Not much bite in you, is there, kitty?"

He backhanded Renamo so hard the Nei saw stars. The arms holding him let go, and Renamo barely managed to flip around to catch himself before he impacted the floor. He started to turn when a loud voice called, "Drinks up! Brandy's on the house!"

Most of the Raiders cheered and turned away. As Renamo got to his hands and knees, a kick caught him square in the backside just below his tail and sent him sprawling. Crashing into a chair, he fell to the ground and rolled onto his back in time to see Kesh and his entourage turning away. "Keep your eyes to yourself, kitty," the Synnott called over his shoulder, "or I'll keep them in my pocket."

Renamo crawled back to his table and pulled himself up into his chair, shaking. His heart was pounding and his nerves were strained, ears flat back. Beneath it, though, he felt a sense of profound injustice. Why hadn't anyone called the authorities? Fiducia's reaction made it obvious that, at the least, the wait staff and the owner knew who these people were. The reward for Kesh's capture was enough that anyone could retire on it; if they weren't compelled by civic duty, wouldn't simple greed suffice?

Looking around the room, Renamo thought he had the answer. No one was so much as looking at him, much less Kesh and his crew. He remembered the threat to the Doloy's wife and was sure Kesh wasn't bluffing, any more than he had been bluffing when he threatened to cut out Renamo's eyes. No one here wanted to brave the pirate's wrath.

Someone should have done something, though, Renamo thought miserably. He imagined what it would be like to be a local law enforcer, storming through the door with a battalion of backup officers and dragging the infamous Kilwyo Kesh before the magistrate to be executed. Better yet, if he were a Centurion with one of their laser swords, he could walk right in and cut Kesh and his minions into pieces. He smiled down into his uneaten plate of meat, picturing the look of fear on Kesh's face as he sliced the man's head in half…

The Zyked laughed his cackling laugh, and Renamo sighed, head in his hands. He wasn't a Centurion, or a Royal Army soldier, or even a cop. He was a warehouse lackey with a threadbare coat, a dirty set of coveralls, and a tool belt. The Miner's Daughter was going to have to keep hoping for its hero.

"Are you okay?" Fiducia's voice asked, low and urgent. Renamo looked up to find her nearby, anxiously glancing around.

"I'm fine," Renamo replied, and he was appalled to hear the quaver in his voice. Taking his first glass of beer, the one he had knocked over himself, he took a bracing swallow and said a bit more firmly, "Go, you should get back. I don't want you to get in trouble."

Fiducia smiled and squeezed his shoulder, then hurried back to the bar just as the Doloy owner returned. He and Warda spoke to Fiducia in low tones, and Renamo saw her tail slash the air uneasily. Anxious, he watched as she slowly nodded and picked up a tray of drinks, then took a deep breath and walked into the midst of the Raiders.

"Here you go," she said in a tone of forced brightness, setting the tray down on the nearest table. She backed away as a few of the pirates picked up glasses with renewed cheers, but the Soju stepped into her path.

"Don't wander off just yet, kitty," he said, raising a hand with a crackle of electricity on his palm. Fiducia started and took a reflexive step back. She bumped into the male Human, who raised his eyebrows appraisingly, as if he was considering a hovercar he might buy.

"Not bad!" he called to the Doloy. "This is more like it."

"I should get back…get you more drinks…" Fiducia said, cobbling together a smile.

"Nah, we're good on drinks," the Human said, stepping up to her. She started to back away, but the Mezzel staggered over and stepped on her tail. Fiducia yowled in pain, mouth stretching wide to reveal her sharp teeth, eyes squeezed shut as her ears dropped.

Renamo was almost out of his seat before remembering what had happened the last time. He had a hideous image of a vibroblade dipping toward his eyes…just the thought made his skin crawl, and he shrank back down in his chair.

"Don't be like that," the Human complained. He stroked Fiducia's cheek, and Renamo felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Fiducia turned her face away, and the Human suddenly grabbed her breasts instead. Hissing instinctively, she curled her fingers into claws and lashed him across the face.

The Human flinched back as several of the Raiders cried out, catching Fiducia by the neck and ponytail. The Human patted his cheek, then drew his hand away with a surprised expression. Grabbing Fiducia by the wrist, he pulled her hand up and laughed coldly.

"Trimmed your nails, huh? Too bad," he mocked, then slapped her so hard her whole body slumped.

"I've often found," Kesh called philosophically, stepping over to the scene and glancing at Fiducia disinterestedly, "that they're more enjoyable if you have them before you mess up their faces."

The Human laughed. "Meh, I usually like 'em a bit more humanoid. The tail's a bit much for me."

"It makes a good handle," the Zyked suggested, and several of the Raiders snickered.

Looking down at Fiducia's rear, Kesh raised his eyebrows. "We could cut it off," he suggested.

Across the bar, Jarv was scrubbing a table, but Renamo could see his hands were coiled into fists, and his cleaning towel was starting to scrape off the top layer. The Doloy owner stood beside Warda, face aghast but seeming frozen in place. Renamo longed to do something, but there was nothing to do. What could he do?

The Human shrugged, spat on Fiducia's face, and said, "Maybe later. Don't wander off, honey, it's a long time before we fly out."

"And he won't take that long," a Leik in the gang added. The group laughed, and the Human angrily turned to start bickering with him. Rolling his eyes, Kesh stepped into their midst to sort it out, and Fiducia slunk away, shoulders shaking. The Doloy tried to say something to her, but she crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head.

It made Renamo feel sick and furious and helpless all at once. He wanted to protect her, but what could he have done? But how could she ever want to be with him if he wasn't someone who could protect her? He longed to be someone who could stand up to Kesh and his gang without fear. He wanted to slink out and go to the authorities, but what if something happened to Fiducia while he was gone? Or what if they did something to her because he turned them in?

It was the same fear paralyzing everyone else, but now Renamo could understand it. The downcast heads and slumped shoulders mirrored his own posture, and he realized they all wanted to be saved just like he did. But there were still no cops or soldiers or Centurions coming through the door. It was this collection of bar goers and the Raiders, and that was it. Nobody was coming to save them.

"Look…LOOK!" Kesh finally shouted down his crew. "We're leaving in the morning. I don't want to risk those Centurions getting a step closer.  I want the ships primed and ready by dawn."

They were leaving. Renamo would never see them again, all he had to do was stay silent for a few more hours. But…what if they hurt Fiducia on their way out? Or the owner's wife?

They might not; leaving a trail wasn't going to help them dodge Centurions. But eventually there would be someone's Fiducia, or someone's wife. Or Kilwyo Kesh would decide he was angry enough at someone staring to do more than slap him around.

Kesh was the problem, Renamo thought bitterly. The Queen hadn't declared everyone in the group an Enemy of the Empire, just the Synnott. The leader. The mastermind behind the whole operation.

Any citizen who can do him harm or bring him to justice is obliged to do so.

This was about more than being a good citizen. This was just being a good sentient being. A man like Kesh made everything around him miserable, and everyone would take it and wait for the heroes to show up and save the day.

But…what if the heroes were already here? Someone had to do something.

Renamo got slowly to his feet and started forward, heart pounding against his sternum. Kesh's back was to him as he lectured his crew about responsibility and preparedness. Most were focused on their leader's face, though a few were still drinking. They paid no attention to Renamo as he walked quietly through the bar. He spared a glance at Fiducia and saw her wide eyes on him, saw her frantically shaking her head.

Her concern stilled the thundering of his heart, and warmth spread through him. Renamo smiled back at her, concentrating on her face as a good last memory. He flexed his claws, but one hand brushed against the vibro-cutter on his belt, and he drew that out instead. It seemed like the better option, all things considered. He could spend another month or year or decade or lifetime using it to cut open boxes and cables, or he could put it to one, brief, glorious use.

"Sheg-Wey will take over operations in the Xoquon sector," Kesh said to the group, and all heads turned toward the Zyked at the bar, away from Kesh. Renamo flicked the vibro-cutter on; he couldn't tell if the tool was what caused his arm to shake. "And then we'll—"

Renamo sucked in a breath, stepped up behind Kesh, grabbed him by his thick hair, and stabbed him in the back.

The first gash opened a gaping wound in Kesh's lower back. The Synnott gasped in shock, the rush of indrawn breath like he had stepped on something cold with his bare feet. Before he could recover, Renamo stabbed him again; the vibrating blade in his shaking hand carved a chunk from Kesh's spine. Eyes wide with horror as blood poured from the wounds, Renamo managed one more stab. The vibro-cutter glanced off a rib and curved up through the middle of the pirate's back.

As blood splashed onto his hands, Renamo opened them reflexively. The vibro-cutter dropped to the floor and, his hair freed, Kesh collapsed forward onto a table. It overturned, spilling the Captain-General to the floor. His gasp choked off into a gurgle as blood overflowed his lips and, behind his thick beard, his khaki flesh turned pale. He flopped on the floor for a moment, arms twitching aimlessly as a pool of blood spread beneath him, before he shuddered and grew still.

The silence in the bar was absolute as Renamo gazed down, horrified. He had never so punch as thrown a punch since he was a boy on Irimor, and now he had killed a sentient being in cold blood. As he looked up at the other Raiders and found them staring blankly at him as well, a very different kind of fear slithering into his bowels. As he started to back away, the whole mass of them surged forward, reaching for knives and blasters.

From behind the bar, Warda Grobb the Ossak bartender grabbed an enormous jug of ale and swung it in one large hand. The jug smashed the unsuspected Zyked, Sheg-Wey, clean in the face, knocking him to the floor. The pirates lurched to a halt, and in that second Grobb's croaking voice bellowed, "He killed Kesh! Kesh is dead!  Let's finish it!"

The bar erupted.

Two Raiders dove over the bartop to grapple with Warda, who fell back, swinging at them with all four arms. Across the room, Jarv Chent pulled him his pant leg and drew a small hold-out blaster, opening fire in the middle of the Raider ranks. The Soju and three others lunged for Renamo, and he backpedaled quickly until he tripped into the table where the two Leiks were sitting.

The Soju grabbed him, and Renamo screamed as electric agony sizzled through his body. The Leiks got up hastily as if to get out of the way, but one of them hastily pulled off his shirt. Renamo's four attackers stared, but just as they comprehended the danger, the Leik's barb-lashes flashed out. The Soju shrieked in agony and stumbled back, hands wiping uselessly at the bloody mess where his eyes had just been.

The barb-lashes darted out again, spearing the Sev'laya in the shoulders. The Synnott behind him, shorter and less hairy than Kesh had been, shot the Leik in the stomach, and Renamo flung himself forward, raking his claws across the man's cheek. The Synnott and the Mezzel grabbed Renamo, and they grappled briefly, struggling for purchase as the blinded Soju wailed and stumbled into them.

They crashed into an Umdal who was holding up an entire table as a shield from the melee. The reptilian alien took one look, then grabbed Renamo by the scruff of his neck and flung him back. The Mezzel and the Synnott made to follow, but the Umdal grabbed the Synnott around the waist, trapping his arms and lifting him bodily off the ground. Squeezing as the hirsute alien voiced wails which quickly turned into gasps, the Umdal kept squeezing until a loud crack sounded from somewhere in the Synnott's back.

The Mezzel advanced on Renamo with a vibroblade, slashing haphazardly. Renamo tripped over a dead patron, stumbled for balance, and caught a slice across his ribs. The vibration turned the glancing blow into a centimeter-wide wound, and the young Nei gasped and threw himself back on the floor, pressing a hand to his side to staunch the bleeding. The Mezzel shifted the vibroblade into a stabbing position and lunged, but stopped suddenly as a shower of sparks and smoke erupted in the center of his face.

Renamo pressed himself against the bar and saw Jarv Chent behind him, still lowering his pistol from firing position. The bald Human smiled, but they both flinched as they heard a piteous Human scream. Looking over, Renamo saw Fiducia grappled with the Human Raiders. She was holding his pistol hand at bay with both of hers, and her teeth dripped blood, matching the bleeding wound on the side of the Human's neck.

They fought for footing as blaster bolts flashed around them, but the Human caught Fiducia's ponytail with his other hand. She kicked him in the knee and he howled, hopping back on his other leg. Renamo dimly saw the Doloy bar owner coming up behind the Human with a broken bottle in his hand. Even as the Human tried to balance and raise his blaster, the Doloy grabbed him by the shoulder, jerked him around, and jammed the jagged glass into the man's throat.

The bar over Renamo's head burst into wood chips as Warda Grobb and the Zyked Sheg-Way crashed through. The reptilian snapped his teeth at the Ossak, gouging off a chunk of flesh that fit well with the series of bloody wounds Warda already had. But the Ossak merely roared from his upward-facing mouth and grabbed the Zyked's hands. Pinning them to the ground, he mounted the reptilian pirate and locked his other two hands around Sheg-Wey's throat. The Zyked thrashed, his tail thumping the floor and his legs scrabbling for purchase, but his struggles grew weaker.

Renamo heard someone calling his name distantly, and looked up. Fiducia was much closer than he had expected, but her voice still sounded far away. Her face was getting foggy too…

*			*			*

Renamo gave the Jubill with the silver hair a small smile. "Yeah. That's me."

The four kids looked at one another, all their eyes wide. One of the boys looked up and said blankly, "They said Queen Rin herself gave you the Order of Distinction. That she gave you enough money to buy a moon."

Renamo smiled at the memory. When he had finally been released from the hospital, he had expected to be safe in anonymity—the Consul had ordered a media blackout of his name, and the media had instead called him merely "the man who killed Kilwyo Kesh". But just outside his recovery room had been a Zaractok, dressed in plainclothes but clearly a dangerous man. Even in stillness, he radiated lethality the way none of Kesh's thugs had.

"What do you want?" he had asked, stressed and suddenly afraid.

The Zaractok's smile was faintly amused, but reassuring anyway. "My master would like to see you."

"You…you're one of Kesh's..."

"Not quite."

And he had smiled still as he pulled aside his long coat and showed the lightsaber on his belt.

"The Queen was very generous," Renamo said to the Jubill boy.

"So…what are you doing here?" the same boy asked blankly.

"This is my restaurant."

"Yeah, but, like…" the other girl, the blonde, started. "Why aren't you, like, on your own private planet somewhere?"

Renamo smiled wistfully, but there was no bitterness in the expression anymore. "If you don't know it already, take it from me: having too much money can do you as much harm as good." The boys looked at one another like it was a novel concept, but Renamo added, "It got a bit to my head, and I went a little astray for a while. Fortunately, someone pulled me back."

"Who?" the silver-haired girl asked.

"Me," came a husky voice behind Renamo. It lacked the hypnotic ring of a Jubill's dulcet tones, but it was still the most intoxicating thing Renamo had ever heard. He turned and smiled.

"This is my wife, Fiducia Kemset."

She stepped up beside him, her scarlet dress matched perfectly to the scarf around Renamo's neck, and kissed his cheek before looking down at the four Jubill teens. "Telling war stories again?" she asked in a teasing tone. "You're going to make them late for the Nova Ball."

Several of the Jubill started, as if the purpose of their dinner had escaped them. One checked his chronometer, then said, "Whoa, yeah, she's right. We should probably go."

Renamo and Fiducia backed up as the Jubill collected their things. One boy nudged the other, and they both stepped up to Renamo. The taller one asked quietly, "Mr. Kemset, is there a server who can bring our check? We don't want to be late and—"

Renamo held up his hands. "This one's on the house, boys."

They looked at each other, then back at Renamo. "Why?" the shorter one asked. Then he said, "Er, I mean, thank you, very much, but…"

"Because take it from the voice of experience," the Nei replied, lowering his voice too and turning his face to smile at Fiducia, "the girl who's really worth being with won't be one you can buy."

He clapped their shoulders, then stepped back and said, "Have a good night, kids."

Three of them headed out, but the silver-haired girl lingered. Renamo raised an eyebrow, and she took a deep breath as before. "Thank you."

Renamo's eyes widened. He had been sure Jubill ears wouldn't pick up his covering the tab for the boys. "For…?"

The girl smiled, and it was a more genuine smile than Renamo usually saw from Jubill who came to Currolichey. "My best friend growing up…her grandpa was killed by the Nightside Raiders. I'm glad you did something."

Renamo felt his lips curve into a smile as well. "I am too," he replied. Then he gestured toward the door with one clawed hand. "Enjoy the dance."

She darted off after her friends as quickly as her spiky heels would allow, and Renamo watched them go. As Fiducia took his hand, he asked, "Think they'll ever stop asking?"

"No," she replied easily, her voice a purr in his ear. "People need heroes. And not just the kind with capital ships or lightsabers."

Renamo chuckled. "I learned my lesson from my…off years," he insisted. "I'm not a hero. I was just a guy with a vibro-cutter."

Fiducia turned to face him and traced her claws gently on his cheek. "And that's why you are a hero," she replied. "Not the awards or the money. You were one guy with a vibro-cutter who decided to act.  You got out of a chair with a knife and started a fight that decapitated the most dangerous pirate group in the Empire."

They both glanced toward the flash of movement as Juna flitted toward them, her perfect face disgruntled. Renamo glanced automatically at table nine and saw the three Jubill from the Consul's office perusing a wine list while the Iscali sous chef hovered anxiously.

"Go on," Fiducia said with a laugh, kissing his cheek. As Renamo started that way, though, she squeezed his hand and he looked back.

"One guy with a vibro-cutter," she repeated, then winked one brilliant green eye. "But that's the thing about heroes, love. Sometimes it takes only one."