Rena closed her eyes and tried to ignore the buzzing sound coming from her commlink. She didn’t want to acknowledge it. Her silk sheets wrapped around her in a smooth and warm cocoon of pleasure, and she had no desire to either leave that embrace or admit that she would need to wake to face whatever was demanding her attention.
Sighing, she clicked the receiver and listened to the crackling sound of her protocol droid, waiting for her on the other side of the bulkhead door.
Sloane? Rae Sloane? Rena couldn’t believe it. It had been ages since she had last heard from Rae. They had been friends since the Academy, but ever since Sloane had made Captain, it had been hard to get in touch. She wondered what it could be about. “Ok,” she mumbled into the commlink. “Give me a few minutes to get my uniform on.” She slid out of bed and padded, naked, over to her closet.
Slowly and deliberately, she changed into her uniform. Technically, Rena’s rank of Commander was exceeded by her old friend, but there were a thousand little touches – the quality of the fabric, the exacting tailoring, the shine on her code cylinders – that indicates that Rena occupied a unique and privileged position in society.
Outside the door, Rena’s personal assistant – her protocol droid – heard very little of the conversation, but snapped to a form of attention as it ended and Rena flew past. “I’m heading out to check up on some things, Tee-Three,” she said, dismissing the droid. “While I’m out, run a search for all reported stolen Imperial Automata droids.”
And then she was gone. “Well, I never…” the protocol droid muttered to itself. “I will never understand humans. Never.”