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o.O.o
"Do you still want to go by Vette?" Evren asks, in the cab back to the spaceport.
She has to mull it over for a few minutes, but . . . "Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I think I do. It's not that Ce'na is a bad name or anything. But I chose the name I have now and I like what I've done with it, you know?"
Evren does one of his shy little smiles. "I rather like what you've done with it, too."
"Aw." She bumps his arm with her elbow. "You gonna pick a Sithy name one of these days?"
"Why? Do you have suggestions?"
"Hmm . . . Darth Cake?"
Evren cackles. "Ah, yes, a name to strike terror into the hearts of my enemies. Nobody will look at baked goods without a frisson of fear ever again."
Vette blinks innocently and looks out the window as Nar Shaddaa streaks past in a blur of multicolored light. "Just sayin'."
"How did you choose Vette, if I may ask?"
"Nok Drayen made sure we learned about different kinds of ships, how to recognize them and what they were all for. You know, a beginner's guide to space piracy. I thought that corvette was a great word. Kept trying to work it into conversations, just 'cause. And then Risha and I were talking about pirate names and I figured, well, why not? Nok didn't really care what name I went by as long as I pulled my weight on the crew, and it was—nice. That everybody just kinda shrugged and went with it."
She sighs. "So yeah. Vette. That's me." She rubs the back of her neck, nails scraping a little at the old scars. "And it's—it's not just a name. I chose it, it's mine, and no one can ever take that away from me."
"Vette," Evren says, not like he's trying to get her attention, just trying out the word. He nods decisively. "You chose well—it suits you."
"Why, thank you, Darth Cake."
"No."
"Caaaaaaaake."
"No."
"How do you say 'cake' in Old Sith?"
"Gods, no."
o.O.o
end