“No,” Arcia sneered, and the two women stared at each other, electricity crackling between them.
The Shadow Lady and her playthings stopped to watch the exchange, suddenly attentive.
“Tiny gods, I hope this turns into a chick fight,” Atyiru murmured.
“Or a sudden release of all that sexual tension,” Celevon muttered back. Atyiru reached out behind her, high-fiving him. Uji and Kordath nodded.
“I, uh…what?” Skar asked.
“I SAID SHHH!”
Both Arcia and K’tana snapped their stares to the yelling Consul. Any promising tension in the air evaporated. Atyiru whined dismally for the loss.
“Bumblefluff,” she muttered.
The purple Twi’lek of their group quickly changed lost interest. “ANYWAY,” she cried. “Let’s go, let’s goooooo, c’mon! I wanna do belly shots! Oooh, while riding a rancor! Frick yeah!”
That was enough incentive to get Atyiru running again. Uji, Skar, and Kordath shouted as they were hopelessly hauled along, somehow, by the much smaller female. Celevon sprinted after them, and then everyone was fumbling headlong through the corridors.
Up ahead, another door opened, this one a small office. A short, graying Human stepped out, a scowl on his face and a stack of recommendations in hand, before his eyes quickly widened.
“What in Palpetine’s name—?”
“C’MON ANDREL, BEER TIME!” Atty shouted, swinging Skar out to grab onto the Imperial like she was playing with a barrel of monkey-lizards. The Kaleesh reflexively clamped his claws down around Andrelious’ arm, and then they were off again.
“Weeeeeeeee-hee-hee!” the Shadow Lady laughed.