The disgusting smell of freshly applied paint looms over the room as the door slides open.

A woman, wrinkling her nose at the smell, stomps her way in, examining the interior with cold calculation. She sighed. She had told the stupid droid many a times to stop repainting the basted walls every day. As usual, the confounded thing wouldnt listen to orders. Unfortunately, the droid had some uses, and she couldnt just sell it for scrap parts. But forget about her issues with the droid, she was here in her room to retrieve a datapad and left the room immediately for the cockpit of her ship. My lord? You have the coordinates? We have to get to the coordinates Lord Draahg has set for us soon. He is already there, and is waiting for us, said Quinn with his usual air of seriousness and detachment. A pity he was like that with other people around. Isnt it obvious shes got it? Jeez, dont be so stiff, a lazy voice called out from one of the three seats. Besides, I dont mind making ol tattoo wait. Quinn, barely masking his annoyance with a calm face, turned his head towards the blue Twilek woman. Is there a reason you should be talking? You shouldnt interrupt when grownups are talking, little girl. Well, lookie here! Seems like captain Grown-Up likes to call names, retorted Vette. Enough! the young dark Lord commanded, and sure enough, Vette and Quinn immediately fell into silence. She snapped her head to face Quinn and ordered him to set the coordinates while she seated herself in the middle of the three chairs. When Quinn finished punching in the coordinates, he looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded. He pulled down the lever, and the ship gave a forward thrust and disappeared in a flash. In the bottom of the Sith Lords stomach, she had a bad feeling.