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Appearances can be deceiving.... * * * * “Is shuman pazzshing the name Zhambonne,” Flenser, the Sith, hissed at the tiny human. “Iz your obligate to find and bring.” Roxanne Boldres tried to puzzle her way through the Sith’s sibilant, heavily accented Glax. “Shambone?” she queried, wondering if she had gotten the name wrong. The Sith drew back. “You have atrozzshiouzz accent to your zzshpeech. Is Zhambonne, as I zzshpoke.” “Hammond?” she interrupted, struggling to extract the proper name from the alien’s sibilant mangling. “Or did you say ‘Ham bone?’” That would have been an even weirder appellation but then, she was dealing with aliens so some weirdness could be expected. She hoped that her confusion would make the Sith give up and go away. She had no desire to play a role in that race’s endless dominance games. Flenser raised a tiny fore limb to expose the sharp claw at its elbow, a claw that could eviscerate her with a single downward slash. “Enough! I have no time for your word gamezz. Find this shuman Zhambonne and bring it to juzzhtice.” The downward snap of the Sith’s claw was so fast that, had Roxanne blinked, she would have missed it. Three of the buttons on her blouse popped free, severed of their threads by the razor edge of the claw’s tip. Roxanne gulped. “I appreciate the way you punctuate your sentences,” she muttered, trying to keep her voice from fluttering like her
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