Myn Donos had always placed "extraordinary ability to sit for long periods of time without moving" on his lists of highly honed skills. Patience, in other words, which was to Myn’s mind, a virtue indeed. The ability to wait in one position for long periods of time, holding off action until the precise moment to attack, was a talent that he valued very highly. As a sniper, this skill was one that he had learned on his own. Snipers did not frequently have company when they were forced to go on jobs, and thus they learned to watch and wait without the benefits or the problems of having a partner along for the ride.

Consequently, Myn positively despised working in a group of people. Particularly when that group included Ton Phanan and Face Loran.

Tonight was hardly an exception. While Myn had grown used to their bantering, he was usually experiencing it over a comlink and could thus turn down the volume. When they were sitting in the brush just over his shoulder, his best defense was to grate his teeth and live with it, so long as it didn’t cost the mission.

Most of the Wraiths were inside. A shipment of New Republic bacta had gone astray and the Wraiths had traced it to this Imperial outpost. They were then designated to steal it back. Myn was told to stay in the bushes and keep guard. The original plan had been to leave him alone with his sniper riffle, but Face and Ton, who had been making rounds around the facility, had ended up back at his post, an unconscious Bothan female guard in tow.

Instead of wondering why an Imperial hospital had a female Bothan in their employ - a reasonable question, Myn thought, given the Empire’s non-equal opportunity employment practices - Face and Ton had amused themselves by examining their prisoner for loose change.

"Her feet are nicely coiffed," remarked Phanan dryly. "I only wish that I could come up with such effective gel for my goatee."

"Your goatee is waxed enough," replied Face with an audible smirk. "Sometimes I wonder if you haven’t dipped it in furniture lacquer."

There was an indignant huff from Phanan. "You’re just distressed because you are not yet mature enough to grow facial hair."

Face snorted.

"Though," Phanan continued, "you do see fit to dye your hair."

"I do not!"

This last cry was far too loud and Myn turned and glared at both of them. "Shh!"

Phanan put a finger to his lips as if he and Myn were co-conspirators. Myn rolled his eyes and resumed his vigil.

"She’s rather pretty, don’t you think?" Face said after a moment.

"I suppose," answered Ton. "Some of my best girl-friends were Bothans."

"’Best girlfriends’? Meaning you had more than one?"

Ton apparently chose to ignore this remark because he answered: "Wild cats in bed, all of them."

"I know. I hear that Corran Horn from Rogue Squadron had a Bothan girlfriend once."

"He doesn’t deserve one."

"Borsk Fey’la, as a Bothan, has probably dated Bothans," Face mused absently.

"But not female ones," Ton replied acidly.

Face laughed. "How do you know?"

"Do you think he’d be so surly if he got any, from anyone? I know I was never that cranky when I was sleeping with one. But then, any woman has that effect on me."

This statement gave Myn a rather disturbing visual. He turned around, eyes blazing. "Do you MIND?" he said in a fierce stage whisper.

Ton looked at him and blinked once with his good eye. "You haven’t cuddled with the snuggly yet, have you?"

Myn threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. Living with these two really was an exercise in futility.

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