Kallus Kane: The Devil's Dog

I don't own star wars

"Damn it Patch! Help me!!" I screamed at our medic as he stood there. Watching me lift chunks of concrete and broken durasteel off of our squad Sniper's body.

"Wolf… Stop we-We can't help her!" he grabbed me, trying to pull me back as explosions echoed throughout the facility, but I shook him off, still digging

"She's still breathing. Hold on KATE! Hold on! Help me Patch!" I dragged her limp, blood body from the wreckage. Her left leg practically fell off it was crushed so badly.

"Wolf!... KAL! She's not going to…" he cringed, shaking his head, "Fine Kal. Fine let's... Get her out so I can help her." ignoring his obvious pandering I lifted her onto my armored back, her blood warm on my body as Patch and I ran through the destroyed fortress.

"…Get down!" I roared as the ground shook, heavy blaster fire smashing above us as the fortress shook and the ceiling cracked, breaking above us and collapsing, dozens of our fellow troopers falling with it, eviscerated and missing pieces.

…I sat up suddenly… rubbing my forehead in my bed as I tried to forget… my tired green eyes glancing around the dark room of my rundown apartment as I quickly remembered I wasn't on Urdin II in the middle of a warzone…

…My Name is Kallus Kane. My friends call me Kal. My enemies, the ones that survived, call me the Red Wolf… and the ones that i can't kill: they call me the Devil's Dog. Although not to my face… I have many names. And none of them are particularly cute and fuzzy… currently I go by Kal: for simplicity.

I'll start at the beginning… My mother is Kavilla Kane: a high ranking Admiral of the Empire. And I was born the day my father died. He was her bodyguard and supremely loyal to her. She went into labor with me and assassins took this opportunity to try and kill her. With explosions. It not only didn't work but served to piss her off. My father died fighting dozens of soldiers before a suicide bomber finally took him out, even then he managed to sink his teeth into the man's neck before it happened…

I had a good mother, and a rather odd childhood plagued with combat and rigorous training. But I have no complaints. My Aunt, and my cousin were very supportive of her, along with my Uncle and his many, many wives. My family is complicated. I enlisted into the academy at a young age, learning to fight and serve the empire as an elite trooper. I excelled in close combat training and was assigned to a five-man squad upon graduation along with a sniper, a medic, a demolitionist, and a squad leader.

Two years into service and we started referring to each other by our nicknames. Wolf, KATE, Patch, Boomer, and Boss. We were exceptional in my opinion, quickly making a name for ourselves. Some would say it was because of my mother's position, or my Aunt's Moff status. But I knew better. We knew better…

It all came to a head 6 months ago at the battle of Urdin II…

Urdin II was populated by slimy, squat, orange skinned race of idiots, insultingly dubbed 'Twerps' that were members of the republic. They decided that they didn't want to be apart of it anymore and seceded with no proper plan other than that they didn't want to be a part of the republic anymore… they weren't very smart. The Empire and the Republic were enjoying a strong, long term, armistice… but since Urdin II was no longer under the republic's control, it wasn't under its protection. They had barely left when we attacked.

We destroyed their orbital stations within a day and blockaded their planet. Ground Forces had landed within a week, and we had begun pushing them back into their gilded fortresses almost immediately… My squad was on the front lines, first in the fight and damn good at it. Within a month they had bunkered in their last fortress. We had just broken through their gates and began surging inside when the last of the little idiots released over open channels that they had returned to the republic and we had a day to get off the planet before they arrived to reinforce…

But our commanding officer, Critcher Cromwell, recently promoted to admiral and commander of the assault from his vessel the Devastator, ignored orders to stand down, and opened fire immediately on the fortress, with us still inside…

He killed Boomer and Boss, and later after many hours of field hospital surgery, KATE… He had done it simply because he wanted glory, to add the planet to his family's long and admittedly impressive list of conquest. And in the end, we didn't keep the damn planet… My friends died for nothing… died for the ego of a fool.

…I promptly informed him of my intense displeasure of this by ripping his damn throat open with my custom-made claws…

Needless to say, it took an awful lot to cover that up. My family called in dozens of favors, along with a public disownment, and with an elaborate escape plan from my execution… as far as the rest of the empire is concerned, I'm dead… To the Kanes and Cromwells however; I'm in obvious hiding. So, I went to the one place the Cromwells would have the most difficulty finding me…

Coruscant.

I climbed slowly out of bed, trying to get the thought of my dead friends out of my head as I glanced at the clock. I had an hour before I had to go to work. I had gotten a low-profile job working in warehouses at the nearby spaceport. Mockingly called 'The Docks'. They don't ask questions, but they also don't give a shit. I walked to my bathroom, checking my reflection in the grungy mirror. I had a little bit of red stubble, I took care of it. I brushed my long, dyed black hair over my slightly pointed ears, checking to see if my roots were showing. I brushed my fingers over my left ear, it was short than the other after an encounter with a vibro-knife wielding Militant… I ripped his throat open too.

Not a trace of red, that was good. Red hair and green eyes were an obvious sign of a Kane, I had to disguise one or the other and dying my hair seemed like a simpler solution. I checked my slightly sharpened canine's, another genetic gift from my Shistavanen father (along with my ears), then I began my morning routine, brush, rinse, hop in the tiny one-person sized shower before getting out and getting dressed. Long sturdy black pants, work boots, work gloves, dark green t-shirt, a black bomber jacket, a gift from my cousin, and a ballcap for my hair…

I left my apartment, quietly locking my door and turning to head towards the garage when I was greeted rather cheerily.

"Hi Mr. Kal." I paused, glancing towards the neighbor's window at a smiling young twi'lek girl, she was ten years old last I checked, and purple, her right lekku was tattoed with thin swirling black lines.

"…Hello Queenie." I replied. Her name was Queenie Rook. Her father was Kingsley Rook… her mother had died when she was very young, and her father did a marginally respectful job of raising her. Considering he didn't teach her any sort of self defense combat… but I imagine that's more my problem than hers. Kingsley himself was a human and had assisted me in acquiring my job at the 'Docks'. It then occurred to me that this was normally the time children were in school… so why was she still here?

"Shouldn't you be at school by now?" I asked conversationally, I was significantly early so I suppose I can stop and chat.

Her smiling face frowned, and she rested her arms and chin on her window sill. "Well… yeah but I don't have a ride. Daddy didn't come home last night." I frowned at that, Kingsley had left early yesterday… something to think on.

"…Do you want to go to school?" I asked as her face lit up.

"Yeah!"

I snorted, inwardly disapproving of myself… but I couldn't say no to that face. "…Grab your things I'll take you." She was ready within minutes, locking her door as she followed me to the garage.

I didn't really have a practical speeder… but I did have a speeder bike… It's been in the family for generations, it belonged to my great grandfather. He had left it to rust in an old barn our family had owned, so I repaired it in my senior year, Mother let me keep it.

"Wow is this a real speeder bike!?" she grinned at me sweetly as I reached for my helmet, pushing it on her head. It was a snug fit. Although admittedly if you get into an accident on a speeder bike the helmet will do nothing at all, but it was still practical.

"This is a Dawnstar Mark I." I said as she looked confused, but I continued anyway. Not a lot of sentients appreciate a good Speeder bike. "I fixed it up myself and repainted it its original hot rod red." I said proudly, lifting her onto the back of the bike and straddling it myself as she wrapped her tiny arms around me. "Hold on."

She cheered with delight as we sped off into the Coruscant air, the buildings and other speeders flying by as I took her towards the closest school. Pulling up front of the building as she wobbled off my bike, grinning happily at me as kids, still arriving to class began to gather around, looking at my bike in wonder.

"Whoa!"

"That's awesome!"

"Queenie your uncle is so cool!" suddenly Queenie was quite the popular girl as she basked in the collective glory of an awesome speeder bike. I took my helmet back as they crowded her and the bike, admiring it.

"Children, come to class, please we're about to begin." My eyes lingered onto a mirialan woman, her hair, long and silky, was bright green like her skin and reached her shoulders. Her face, while being very attractive with northern continent twi'lek features, had a dozen triangular mirialan tattooes collecting beneath her right eye like a lightning bolt. She was also dressed distinctly like a jedi in a form fitting brown robe. My green eyes met her storm grey and she frowned briefly, as children scampered by her. Queenie turned and waved to me, unable to help myself, I smirked and waved back... The miralan woman smiled fondly at the kids before returning her attention to me… and approaching.

I could have driven off, I should have, but she seemed to be hypnotizing me. Even though I was no stranger to beautiful women. My female cousins are distractingly beautiful, my Uncle's and other cousin's wives equally so, and my mother and aunt (Twins, by the way) despite being in their early 60's could still turn the heads of many a younger man…

Kane-Firemane genetics, damn good shit. I'm going to look like this for at least another 50 years…

"…I'm sorry I'm afraid we haven't been introduced…" she said softly with a voice like honey, watching me intently as she stood beside my bike. "I'm Master Lidia…Are you a relative of Queenie's?"

…She was an obvious Jedi. I might have to be more careful. "…No. I'm her neighbor." I replied, putting on my helmet. "She might need a ride home later, you should find someone…"

"You aren't going to pick her up?" she asked conversationally, watching me thoughtfully, as if staring into my very soul.

"…No. I have to work long shifts, but she wanted to go to school so I brought her, it was on the way." It was not, the warehouse I was working at later today is in the exact opposite direction.

"…Well, thank you for bringing her. I'll see that she gets home."

"Hmph." I replied abruptly as she turned and swayed back towards the school, my eyes drawn to her body… the robe was surprisingly flattering. I kicked my bike into gear and roared towards my work. She continued to watch me as I went… I put her out of my mind as I arrived at the garage, parking my ride far away from the rest of the vehicles.

Warehouse A-12 today. It was boring work, and physical, but It certainly beats morning trooper calisthenics. Upon entering however, I found a collection of three older workers trying to move a particularly heavy crate. It came up to about waist high.

"Its no good! No good knock it off…" grumbled a stout bearded weequay. "Damn lift droid crapping out on us…" he then kicked a nearby spasming droid. "Fucking th-" he then spied me, "Hey you! Youngin come here." I tightened my griping gloves on my hands and approached, "Give us a hand with this one. We got to get it on this crate…" he then slapped a nearby crate. "If we all work together, we-" I gripped the crate and hefted it up, and onto the crate he referred to. It wasn't large or particularly heavy for me…

3… maybe 325 pounds? They stared at me in awe as I tightened my gloves again. "…Is that all?" I asked as he nodded.

"Yeah… nice job." He said distractedly as I walked off to continue my work.

Admittedly I cheated… I can activate my adrenaline at will, enhancing my strength and senses temporarily. It's not like I can bend steel or anything, but lifting heavy objects? I can do that. Can't do it too often however or my heart could potentially burst, according to my Falleen doctor at any rate.

Several hours into work, my pleasant silence was interrupted by the foreman.

"Rook! You're late! Get your ass to work!"

"Yes sir, right away sir…" Kingsley Rook. Early forties, average looks, size, intelligence. Black hair, brown eyes. Manage to marry a twi'lek and have Queenie… mostly downhill from there. He stood beside me, a fresh, prominent black eye and bruising around his neck. Someone had tried to choke him.

"…Hey Kal…" he mumbled, with much less enthusiasm than he had with the foreman.

I stared at him, "…What happened to you?" I asked, not really caring, but knowing I was probably going to pretend to."

He fidgeted, looking left and right up the aisles of crates, boxes, and other items that were beneath notice. "…You know about the underground fights they hold in Warehouse F-05?"

"…No." I said flatly, honestly, and rubbing my eyes at the sheer lack of subtly he seemed to possess. I did know however that nobody went into F-05, as far as I knew it was an empty, unused building. But I guess if they have underground fights there it was obvious as to why.

"Oh… well. Uh." He paused, taken aback. "…Well. There are… Underground fights in Warehouse F-05…" he added rather lamely.

"Apparently…" I noted, giving him my attention. "So?"

"Well I found out a couple months ago and got myself some real money betting on the fights and…. Well." He gingerly touched his black eye. "I heard about this 'sure thing' from some other regulars so I took out a huge bet."

"And you lost. You obviously lost…" I noted and he flinched.

"…Big time…"

I glared at him, giving him my best 'angry Kavilla' look. The very same look she gave me when she was extremely disappointed in me. Like that time I accidentally exploded one of her favorite speeders with my Cousin Aida… it's a fairly short story. That was pretty much it.

"Look. Kal." He said hesitantly, "I'm in real deep and…" he slammed his head on a crate. "…I need some running away money… these guys don't play around."

I sighed again, crossing my arms. "…How much do you owe them?"

"25000 credits." He said rubbing his face, "It'll take me years to pay them back, longer if they break my legs… or worse… they'll take Queenie…"

I froze. And my eyes narrowed angrily at him. "…These fights… how do you enter?"

He stared at me like I was crazy, but he answered. "You need to give the boss a down payment. Then you fight, if you win you get your payment back and a cut of the other guy's."

"…What's the down payment?" I asked calmly, turning away and thinking quickly. "…Would 50000 credits be enough?"

"50000 credits?!" he yelled, it echoed off the crates and suddenly rushing me. Grabbing my arms, "You have 50000 credits??!"

"…Not hard credits." I replied, knocking his hands away abruptly. "…But I have something worth that much… it also has sentimental value. So I'd like to end up keeping it."

He fidgeted watching me, "…What do you mean?"

I sighed, looking around to make sure nobody was listening. "…I'm going to fight." I said and he stared at me, "And you're going to bet on me." The bell range to signify our lunch break, and I began walking. He followed.

"W-what? What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Are you not listening?" I noted as he continued to follow me. "I'll fight in the matches and you bet on me."

"That's… INSANE." He hissed as we reached the garage. "Where are you going?"

"To get my down payment. I'll be right back." I left him in the garage, speeding back towards my apartment. I climbed off my bike and headed into my apartment before I came to my senses. Squatting by my bed and pulling out a large case. Opening it I found blood red body armor, greaves, and a pair of oddly designed gauntlets… this was my 'Red Wolf' gear. Missing the custom helmet however… left that with mother.

I took one of the gauntlets, it had three odd steel grooves on the back. If I snapped my wrist just right while I was wearing it, those three steel grooves became three very dangerous claws. Part of a matching set… just a few short months ago I tore open Critcher's throat with these. Worth a small fortune to the right buyer…

Admittedly that buyer was Critcher himself, and whoever tried to sell them to him would probably meet a slow and very painful death. I'll give this to Critcher, that fucker was made of iron, he just didn't show much of it. Staring at my armor… I briefly wondered what I was even doing. It was none of my concern how deep Kingsley dug his hole… a hole so deep either you dug yourself out or somebody helped you get out. Why should I be that somebody? Lay low. Keep out of trouble. That's what mother told me…

…Then I remember Queenie smiling and waving at me… There was only one thing a group of undesirable thugs would do with a young twi'lek girl.

I shut my case and kicked it back under the bed. Taking my glove with me.

I pulled back into the garage, Kingsley was still waiting for me. "Look Kal this is insane. The guys who fight? They're professionals! Guys who train from birth to beat the living hell out of people! Gamorreans, wookies, weequays, nikto… I saw a human like you get his face smashed in by a gamorrean!"

"It's fine." I replied. "When do they fight?"

He stared at me and sighed, "…There's going to be another fight tonight. I'll take you there." He then eyed my gauntlet as I placed it in my bag. "…Is that it? Your collateral?"

"Yes." I replied, walking away from my bike as he continued to eye it thoughtfullty. "Don't bother trying to steal it. It's only worth 50000 credits to one man." I then eyed him casually, "And he'd kill you if he caught you with it."

"…Holy crap Kal…" he mumbled somewhat disturbed, following behind me.

It was late now. Night had fallen over the megacity of Coruscant as he led me to Warehouse F-05. He was nervous, rubbing his hands, he obviously didn't want to be here. "Kal… I'm not so sure about this."

"…Let's go Kingsley." I replied, pushing past him into the warehouse. The first thing I noticed was that it was mostly empty. In the center of the warehouse was a sort of circle or towering crates. Opening vaguely on both ends and surrounded by lights that illuminated the ring and darkened the rest of the warehouse… there were tall steel structures surrounding the ring, obviously viewing stands.

Kingsley lead me in, dozens of other people had begun climbing the stands watching as a pair of humans slugged it out in the ring, their hands wrapped with bandages as they cracked and punched each other. He took me to a rather tubby Weequay, surrounded by larger, bulky weequay and eyed Kingsley rather affably.

"Kingsley…" he said cheerily, relaxing in a comfy chair behind a table. "…Got my money?" he asked much more dangerously.

"No." I said, pushing Kingsley aside and approaching him. The two other weequay, obviously his guards moved in front of him but he waved them down. "He brought you a fighter."

The weequay chuckled, eyeing me. "…You? You look like just about every other dock rat…" he laughed louder, his guards chuckling with him. I tossed my gauntlet onto the table in front of him, he eyed it disdainfully. "…The hell is that?" he lifted it to eye level, running a finger along the grooves and flinching as they sliced it open. "Ow! The hell?"

"…There's a man name Critcher Cromwell who will pay whatever you asked him for that gauntlet." At those words, the weequay eyed me with new interest. "…If I lose. You don't give me anything and I'll tell you how to contact him… if I win. You call off Kingsley's bet… and you don't have to pay me."

The weequay scoffed, but I knew I had his interest. Tossing the claw back onto the table. "So either way I win? I rather like those odds… BUT." He pointed to me with his bleeding finger. "…You got to last at least three rounds. And if you lose… I OWN him. And everything he owns… and your broken ass." he said as Kingsley's face twisted in absolute horror.

"Done." Said immediately before Kingsley could interrupt. "When do I fight?"

He grinned darkly, slapping his right thug on the hip. "Get Guugo. Tell him he's up next." He then jerk a thumb towards the ring opening. "Just like you." He added as his thug ran off into the darkness.

I walked away, Kingsley slapping my waist trying to stop me as I began to strip.

"ARE YOU INSANE?!" he hissed desperately. "Guugo will kill you!"

"What is he?" I asked, finding the wheel of wrap for my fists hanging on the crate.

"H-He's a gamorrean. A real brawler." He said as I began to wrap with some difficulty. He scampered around and helped me. "By the Force Kal you really…" he then paused, eyeing my bare chest…

And the many… many scars.

"…Holy Shit Kal." He said, gazing at me in awe, and a little sadly. "…Half of these look like they could've killed a battalion…" he said disbelievingly.

I had quite a collection. Slashes, gashes, scars, bullet wounds, blaster wounds, vibro-knives, sharpnel… my body was a canvas of war wounds… My back was pretty pristine though.

Well… accept for the tattooes over my right shoulder. STK-888, DTA-504, and SLT-445

"…You better place your bets on me." I noted, getting his attention back. "And what are the rules?"

"…Anything goes… try not to kill your opponent… and bellow the belt's okay but frowned upon. Kal…" he said was I turned, one of the human fighters went down and wasn't moving. "…Kal why are you doing this?"

"…I like your daughter." I said finally as they dragged his unconscious body out of the ring. I looked at him. "I'd hate her to grow up without her father…" then turning back to the ring as I entered, added more for my own benefit rather than his. "I know what that's like."

"Alright we got some NEW MEAT…" said a voice, female I suppose. It echoed excitedly around the warehouse. "…And it looks like Guubo is his opponent… I won't bother to get to know the other guy's name then. PLACE YOUR BETS!!!"

Guubo a bulky, stout gamorrean entered from the other side, he had a broken right tusk and a nose that's been broken and reset quite a lot. Three rounds. I can do three rounds…

I knocked my fists together and approached just as a bell rang and he charged across the arena. Swinging hard at my face. I swayed away and jabbed, knocking him back. He scrunched his piggy face, annoyed that I had before swinging again, and again… he was easy to ready. My foot came up, kicking him in his sturdy legs… no openings there. They might not kick but it was like hitting a tree with a bat and expecting to knock it down. He grab my wrist, dragging me closer and pulling back his other hand for a punch…

I deflected it, he seemed surprised… I then grabbed his arm and rammed my head into his nose again. he squealed stumbling away as I charged at him, ramming my shoulder into his gut as I lifted him across the arena with a howling roar as the fight awoke in me. Slamming him into the large crate my fist slammed into his face, his nose, his jaw. Combinations coming left and right as I felt the THRILL of combat once more. Suddenly I was pulled away. a bell was ringing as Guubo stumbled away, bleeding and angry. My knuckles were sore, my wraps were red…

And I was smiling…

"Holy shit Kal you can FIGHT!" Kingsley said impressed, pushing away the guards and slapping my shoulder. "Do you uh… do you need anything?" I flexed my fingers, pacing back and forth as Guubo was tended to by pretty ringside girls.

"…I need them to ring the bell." I said with an animal growl as Kingsley stepped out of the ring and the bell rang again. I stomped towards Guubo and he did the same. I knocked my fists together once, twice, then pulled one back to slam it against Guubo's face as he stumbled back, before he could recover my other fist came roaring up to meet his jaw, crashing against it hard as it jolted his head back. I grabbed his shoulder rushing forward with my knee and RAMMING it into his stout gut as his head plunged forward, squealing in pain as my elbow came down hard on the back of his head.

He did a full forward flip as I kept moving forward, pacing like an animal in a cage as he lied on his back.

Get up. I said to myself watching him. "Get up." I hissed to myself. Readying another combat stance as he slowly crawled to his feet. "Come on." I growled as he turned to me, eyes red and angry before an angry squeal echoed around the warehouse and he charged. I tightened my stance, bracing myself as I tanked his hits, he flailed wildly and angrily, slamming his fists into my sides and arms, he tried to uppercut me but I swayed back, letting him vent his fury on me. It hurt. But I could take it.

I finally countered blocking one blow with one arm and swinging my other as his face. he recoiled down and to the left only to feel the flat of my hand slap his fat piggy ass back up to his feet and coming at him hard with a hard right cross, sending him off his feet once more and crashing back onto the floor as the bell rang again.

…It was faster this time…

Kingsley came back into the ring, watching me in amazement. "…Kal…" he said awed, "Holy shit Kal why are you a dock rat?!" he squeaked.

"…The same reason why that gauntlet's worth a lot of money to one man…" I said softly. My fingers clenching back into fists. "Third round." I said, turning as he got out of the way. Knocking my fists together as Guubo turned towards me. Angry, and determined.

"Let's go!" I shouted, as we closed in he swung, my hand caught his fist. He looked surprised. My other hand came in hard cracking against his jaw. He stumbled back but I dragged him back forward and into my fist again… he was in the air and I let go he crashed onto his back and lied still.

"Get up." I growled quietly. "I'm not done get up." My fists covered in blood and my patience running out I bent down and grabbed him only for his fist to shoot up and slam into my nose, I stumbled back as he released a squealing laugh. He charged me, grappling me and hurling me to the ground as he stomped on me, once, twice. Thre-" I caught his foot, and twisted.

He was rolling on the ground, squealing as he clutched his clearly injured ankle. And I have to admit I wasn't sure if I broke it or sprained it… won't matter in a minute.

I got up, grabbed his head… and slammed my fist right on his nose, I felt something crack… he groaned on the ground unconscious as I stood upright. Finally hearing the cheers of the crowd as I turned and left him there.

"Holy shit KAL YOU WON!!" Kingsley shouted happily as I walked towards the weequay, who was looking at me in interest as I yanked my gauntlet from the table. "I knew all the time." Kingsley said with false modesty.

"You're no dock rat…" the weequay said coolly, but he smirked knowingly.

I pulled my gauntlet on, double pressed the switch in the palm, and snapped the three flip action claws towards him. He gazed nervously at the sharp talon like claws as they gleamed in the faint light.

"You're right…" I said, double tapping as the spring action as it snapped the claws back into grooves. "Let's go Kingsley."

Kingsley skipped behind me as I rubbed my face, his smile slowly fading as he counted his credits. "…Kal… Tha-"

Once we were out of the warehouse, I grabbed him around the throat and slammed him against the wall. Glaring at him coldly.

"…You do ANYTHING to endanger that little girl again Kingsley." I said, and he knew immediately that I meant Queenie. "You're going to get firsthand experience as to what I just did in there… understand?" I asked as he nodded rapidly. I let him go as he coughed.

"…Thanks Kal…" he said weekly, I paused and sighed.

"…Your welcome Kingsley…" I helped him back to his feet, and with that… we went home.

Bonus

I watched the guy pull up the gamorrean's head from the ground and slam his fist dead on into his piggy face. That looked like it hurt. But damn if it didn't look good. That guy knew what he was doing. He was different form all these amateur scrappers, that guy's seen real combat…

MMn… check out all those scars. Scars are hot.… the guy has SURVIVED combat, that's much more important. Where has he been all my life? I followed him in the dark, I'm good at that. Saw him threaten Cheeto. Easy enough, and fun; threatening Cheeto is one of my favorite pastimes. Now he's threatening that guy he was with, wow he's just a threatening sort of guy… Hee-hee.

…AND he's got a Speeder bike?! Wait, that's A Dawnstar Mark I?! They don't even make parts for those anymore!

"…I think I'm in love…" I grinned, already dialing up the boss as I held it to my multiple earring adorned pink ear, "…Hey. Boss. I found a GREAT one…"

End of bonus.