AN: I know, Vector uses the first person once or twice in this chapter. My thinking is that, after a few years, he starts adjusting to normal syntax when he needs to, though he'll probably go back and forth when he's not concentrating. He's a bright guy; it can't be that different from learning another language.

Three

"…and they escaped into the dark and the stars, where the pirates could never reach them. The end."

Malavai frowned. He stopped sucking his thumb and twisted his blue blanket between his fingers.

"Why didn't the pirates chase after them?" he asked.

Vector pried his son's tiny hands from the blanket; the corners were beginning to fray from all the twisting he did when his aura turned orange. "The warriors stole the engines from their ships so they couldn't fly them. Remember?"

"Oh." Malavai started to stick his thumb back in his mouth, but stopped. "Well, why didn't they fix them?"

Vector answered patiently. "Because by the time they figured out they were broken, the warriors would have been too far away. The pirates wouldn't have known how to find them."

Malavai scowled, unhappy with that answer. "Pirates are dumb."

Vector laughed. Malavai made a face as his father ruffled his neatly combed hair, smoothing it back out of his face as quickly as he could. "We can't say we disagree." Vector glanced at his chrono before continuing. "It's getting late, and we are travelling to Dromund Kaas tomorrow, but we can tell you one more story if you'd like."

Malavai's aura shrank abruptly at that, and his face fell—though he tried to hide it from his father. "No," he said, "that's okay."

Vector gave him a puzzled look. "Are you sure? You've never turned down a story before. Isn't there one of your favorites you'd like to hear again?"

"Maybe, but…"

"But what?"

Malavai's shoulders sank, his nose scrunching in annoyance. "Mother says she doesn't want me to hear the story about the Sith anymore."

Vector paused, startled. But as he thought about it, he realized that he really should not have been. "We see."

"It's not fair."

"What isn't fair?"

"She says that all Sith are evil," Malavai said crossly, "but the one in the story does good things. Force users have to go to Korriban and become Sith. It's not his fault…is it?"

"No," Vector said thoughtfully. "We don't suppose it is." Malavai was pouting now, glaring down at the blanket curled in his fists. "Malavai…" The boy didn't respond. Vector reached over, raising his chin until blue eyes met his own. "Malavai, listen to us—to me. Your mother is a wonderful, brilliant woman, and her heart is in the right place. But she…has been through things. She's experienced cruelty at the hands of Sith, and she's seen it in others too. I cannot say I blame her for hating the Sith."

"I guess."

"But," Vector added, "we…I am proud of you, Malavai." He hugged him. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Vector's concerns returned to him as he closed the door to Malavai's room, the hive buzzing with a million different thoughts and problems with the planned meeting on Dromund Kaas.

He slipped into the living room quietly, trying not to disturb Melia, who looked to be buried in the middle of research. He should have realized from her aura that she wasn't really concentrating; as soon as he set foot in the room, Melia looked up from her datapad.

"What was the story tonight?"

"The pirates."

She let out an amused mm in reply. "Of course."

He leaned against her chair and put an arm around her shoulders. "He said the pirates were 'dumb.'"

"Having impersonated one, I can't say I disagree."

"He also said you didn't want him hearing the story about the Sith anymore."

Her aura flashed bright green, then crimson. "You know how I feel about them," she said coldly.

"We do."

"You know what they did to me."

"We remember. Better than most," he added, cringing as the memories replayed across a thousand minds at once. "But we are not sure—"

"I don't want him to idolize them, dammit," she snapped, putting down the datapad. "It's bad enough he has to go through schooling, where they're going to teach him all this glorified nonsense—"

"We know," Vector said calmly. "And w—I am not trying to change your mind. I know better than to try," he teased. She smiled at that…but it faded almost instantly, her aura shifting grey and purple as her recollection turned from her bloodless victory over Darth Jadus to the terror he had put in her beforehand, and how the Dark Council had punished her for her insolence.

"It scares me," she said softly. "He's drawn to them."

"He is drawn to a particular Sith in that particular story," Vector pointed out. "But he understands how unusual that is. He's very bright for one so small."

"I hope you're right." Melia sighed. "Are you packed for tomorrow?"

"Yes, we—"

He stiffened as a tritone shot out in the Song. He dived for the ground, pulling Melia with him, fractions of a second before something small and hard shattered the glass window and landed in the center of the room.

"Vect—"

Melia's words were muffled as Vector threw himself over her like a shield.

A small explosion ripped through the room. Vector flinched as shrapnel raked across his back, ripping his robes. But he ignored the cries of the nest and buried the pain; he could feel heat beginning to radiate through him, and smelled smoke.

Sure enough, as he helped Melia up from the ground, he saw flames rising from the rug, beginning to catch on some of the furniture.

"Go!" he shouted. "Get out of the house! Don't worry, we'll—I'll get Malavai!" He cut off her protest. "The smoke is spreading; you won't be able to see. His aura will guide us, get out."

Melia nodded, agent reflexes kicking in and overriding her concern. "I'll fetch help."

Without another moment's hesitation, Vector hurried down the hall, coughing as smoke filled the air. He didn't have to go far: Malavai came barreling out of the room as fast as his tiny legs would carry him, the flickering flames reflected in his wide, terrified eyes as they peeked out over the blue blanket clamped over his nose and mouth. Vector scooped him up and made for the exit.

"Where's mother?" asked Malavai, his words muffled.

"She's alright, she's safe," Vector said. "Just hold on tight."

Malavai obeyed silently, wrapping his arms around his father's shoulders.

The cold air hit them like a wall as they stepped outside, but it was clean. Vector stifled his coughs and went on away from the house until he could see Melia, frantically gesturing at the house to a group of Imperial soldiers who did not appear bothered by the rising flames.

"Mummy!"

Melia spun around at the sound of his voice. "Malavai," she cried out, relieved. Vector let the struggling boy down, where he promptly ran into his mother's arms. "Oh, thank the stars, you're alright." Her face fell as she saw Vector, hurt written on her face. Without a word she gestured at the house, communicating with her eyes so Malavai wouldn't notice. Vector followed her gaze.

On the front of the house, in great flaming letters that looked to have been painted on, there was a message left by the attackers.

BUG WHORE.

Vector's heart sank. He pushed away the murmurs of the nest, burying the pheremonic bond in anger and shame. Melia saw his eyes change and shook her head. Aching, Vector let the voices of the nest return.

The silent exchange did not go completely unnoticed by Malavai. Confused, he looked around. His eyes fixed on the burning message.

"Malavai, don't…" Melia tried to shield his eyes.

"That's wrong," he said quietly, pushing her hands away.

"Malavai—"

"It's wrong!"

Vector grimaced. He must have sneaked into the library again, looking for datapads to practice reading. They kept giving him children's stories, but he got bored of them so quickly. He would have to move some of the holopads out of climbing range.

But Malavai wasn't finished.

"The lady bug in a hive is called a queen," he said. "They should have writed bug queen."

Vector gave his son a weak smile. "Yes, they should have."