Six was sitting at the bridge of her ship, resting the heels of her knee-high boots on the console in front of her. She relaxed by sharpening the blade of the boot knife her father had given her. The Jedi have their meditation, she thought, and I have mine. She marveled at the effectiveness of the archaic weapon; this was no tech enhanced vibroblade, this was a blade lovingly honed by hand and passed through her family. The long stokes against the whetstone soothed her; she loved wielding her dual light sabers, but it was good to know that she had the blade close by for added lethality. She wondered if the sound was aggravating Quinn, he was seated at the pilot's chair and had just shot her his umpteenth furtive look. Then again, she thought with a laugh, one of her more recent passions had been aggravating Quinn.

"I know what you're thinking, Quinn," she addressed the Captain, without looking up from her sharpening.

"Yes, my lord?" He sounded like he was bracing himself for one of her rounds of teasing. She looked up from her blade and pinned him with her red eyes, typical of the Chiss species.

"You're thinking 'I wonder if her skin tastes the same as a Human woman?'" Red spots emerged high on Quinn's cheekbones from the blast of Six's latest verbal grenade as indignation pinched the features of his aristocratically attractive face. Six loved that look; it reminded her of the stuffy officers on Hoth where her father had been stationed.

"My lord!" he stammered, "I was thinking no such thing." But you are now, Six thought with satisfaction, as she went back to sharpening her knife.

"You know I don't mind you looking at me, Quinn," she drew out the words, without looking at him directly, "In fact, it reminds me that you are a man, instead of another blasted ship's droid." As she glanced out of the corner of her eye she saw the flush stay on his cheeks, but a defiant flash burst in his eyes.

Six was no fool; she had seen how he looked at her when he thought she wasn't paying attention. One of the benefits of solid red eyes, she thought, no one could be sure of where your gaze was focused. She had been told by more than one Imperial on Hoth how appealing her exotic look was. Her body was smooth and toned, as was the nature of her species, and she kept her glossy, shoulder length black hair pulled back in a high ponytail. That fact that her blue skin was paler than most Chiss probably made her looks easier to accept. Even now, as she held her knife up in one slim hand to examine the edge, she could feel Quinn's eyes trace over her lounging form, before he went back to trying to focus on the console.

For her part, Six had set her sights on Quinn since the first time they had met; he had been threatening to shoot a subordinate who had displeased him. Handsome and ruthless, she'd remembered thinking, an irresistible combination. The proud set to his shoulders and his quick, strategic mind appealed to her physically and mentally. That fact that he became adorably flustered at her bold nature was an added bonus. She'd noticed he seemed to fluster even more easily since she had kissed him the night Baras bestowed the title of 'Lord' on her, here on the bridge. Her discerning eye hadn't missed the warm smile that crossed his face, just before surprise at her overture had taken over; or the heated gleam in his eyes as he gave her a mild lecture in propriety. The game of advance and retreat they were playing wasn't new to Six, and she was enjoying the challenge of twisting words and meanings into well-aimed projectiles.

"Permission to speak freely, my lord," Six smiled to herself, she had known this was coming. She made a show of slowly turning to face him while keeping her blade held high.

"Permission granted." She made sure her tone could be implied that permission would be granted in more than one way, and saw Quinn's eyes widen briefly before he cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Why do you delight in putting me on the spot? You seem to relish shattering my concentration." Quinn had pinched the bridge of his nose, like she had given him a headache, before running one hand through his hair, which was as thick and black as hers. Six quietly chuckled, as she watched his now familiar aggravated mannerisms.

"Maybe because I grew up around too many Imperial stuffed shirts to take them seriously," she said, with humor in her voice, "Or maybe it's because I enjoy seeing your eyes flash at me when I say something you deem inappropriate," Six let the tone of her voice drop lower, encouraging Quinn to lean towards her to listen. "Or maybe, because I think a night together would do us both a world of good. Just to get it out of our systems. No one would even need to know." The flush no longer contained itself to Quinn's cheeks; his face suffused with crimson and he sat back, sputtering. Ha, Six thought, direct hit! She laughed before reapplying oil to her whetstone. "Relax, Quinn," she said dryly, "I'm sure it's from growing up on Dorn Base. It always amused me how easy it was to rile the Imperial Officers." Having changed the subject effectively to something within his comfort level, Six noticed Quinn started to relax and the red faded from his complexion.

"Yes, I believe I read in your dossier that you had grown up on Hoth," he said, taking a deep breath, "Something about your father assisting with cold weather training. A Colonel, if I'm not mistaken." Thinking about her father made Six smile. He'd been so proud when they'd discovered she had been accepted to the Academy. Chiss were allies to the Empire and her patriot father was thrilled that one of his offspring would be training to be a Sith, even knowing how hard the path might be for her. Lost in her revelry, Six noticed a soft clearing of a throat. She looked over to see Quinn giving at her sidelong glance. "Your dossier didn't explain your name however. 'Sixfee'Tunder' isn't a moniker I'd associate with a Chiss." Six laughed out loud at that.

"A nickname that stuck, so I continued to use it." Since she had been having so much fun at Quinn's expense, Six decided to show a little mercy and indulge his curiosity. Besides, she thought, it was the first time he was expressing an open interest in something more personal about her. "My family name is 'Ses'fae Tunda'. One of the Sergeants at the base armory noticed I was always underfoot and started calling me 'Ses'fae Tunder'. Later, the same Sergeant saw my comfort level with weaponry and adjusted it to 'Sixfee'Tunder'. He explained to me it had to do with some Human tradition about how deep to bury a body." If only the man had known how many bodies she would be responsible for in the name of the Empire, Six thought, wryly. But, she treasured the memories of the craggy old Sergeant who had watched over her like she was his daughter. Growing up a Chiss among Humans wasn't always easy, so his unwavering acceptance of her had felt like a blessing. "So, is there anything else you'd like to know that wasn't in my dossier?" Quinn shook his head.

"No, I was thorough in both reading your dossier and researching Chiss." Six raised a jet-black eyebrow at him.

"Researching?" Her inflection made the dunes of Tatooine look like an ocean. The tone must have passed completely over Quinn's head because he forged ahead.

"Yes, I looked into the Chiss history; the genetic traits; how, other than cosmetic differences, the anatomy is very similar to Humans…" Six sighed as she leaned back and focused on her knife again, letting Quinn drone on about her people.

Explaining Chiss to her was like trying to tell a wampa how to eat a tauntaun, she thought. She was sure that the data he found would mention the Chiss's better-than-Human night vision, or how they were most adapted to cold climates. What it wouldn't mention was the debilitating headaches Six would get if in bright locations with no eye protection for extended periods. Or how she always felt overheated in conditions many species felt were comfortable. That last fact had caused many screaming matches with Vette, fighting over what temperature was best for the ship. Their compromise; a temperature in which Six had to wear less layers while the Twi'lik wore extra. Even now, in the light sleeveless top, leggings and boots Six wore, her skin felt dewy. After several moments, she noticed the only noise was her blade being slowly drawn across the whetstone. She looked over and saw Quinn looking at her, expectantly.

"Quinn, if you wanted information about Chiss, you could have asked me." Six kept her tone soft to hide her exasperation.

"In all fairness, my lord, we hadn't met yet," Quinn sounded very matter-of- fact, "I've had limited experience with your species. I wanted to know what I would be dealing with." Six froze in fury at his poor choice in words, but she resisted the urge to plunge her knife in Quinn's thigh, knowing she'd feel obligated to help clean up the blood.

"'Who you would be dealing with', Quinn," she corrected in her most frosty voice. Quinn looked puzzled, both at her words and change in mood.

"'Who', my lord?" he asked carefully, as if realizing he had wandered into a dangerous situation, but was unsure where the danger would come from. Six turned to make sure he could look into her eyes.

"I am not a 'what'," Six's voice was deadly calm as she addressed the Captain, "I would be a 'who'. You would be wise to remember that." As Six watched the horror spread across Quinn's face, she knew he was realizing how badly he had blundered.

"My lord," he sputtered, aghast, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I didn't know… I was just trying to prepare…" Six knew her unreadable gaze was just adding to Quinn's discomfort, so she turned back in her seat and propped her feet up on the console. Normally, she would be enjoying an outburst like this; this time it annoyed her. She heard him take a deep breath, as he gathered what was left of his decorum.

"My lord," Quinn's voice was calmer, "I sincerely apologize, I was curious about whom I was going to have the pleasure of working with and it sounds like I overstepped. I meant no offense." An apology and flattery, Six thought, he must really feel bad. She realized she was probably being too hard on Quinn, but after years of xenophobic attitudes, being treated like a curiosity instead of a person still stung. Even the blasted Republic seemed tolerant of different species within their ranks, she thought, why was the Empire so different? Not like she was a Cathar, with that fur and fangs. She spun her knife in her hand to relax, enjoying its balance, before picking up the whetstone again.

"I know you meant no offense," Six sighed, "Your type never do." She looked out the window from her seat on the bridge, appreciating the peaceful view. "If the ship is set, why don't you go inspect something?" She waved her hand dismissively, not having the patience for subtlety; she just wanted to be alone for now. Quinn looked reluctant as he got up.

"I am truly sorry if I offended you, my lord." His voice was softer, and she could hear the sincerity in it. Six nodded as she kept looking out the window while honing her blade. She could have sworn that his hand brushed her shoulder as he walked by, but she ignored it as she allowed herself to become lost in the trance of the easy strokes of metal on stone.

Author's Note

Much of the information about Chiss, to include biology and history, was retrieved from Wookieepedia, a great resource for Star Wars Fans. The information about Dorn base was from the SWTOR game.