The sheer amount of stupidity was amazing. Even for Nihlus.
“No,” he said firmly.
“Come on. You never do anything fun.”
That didn’t deserve a reply.
“You look incredible like that. Just let me–“
“I have to finish reading.” And leave that outstanding report for another day. Trying to type right now would be a futile task. He sighed.
“Ooh, what is that?” Before he could stop him, Nihlus hopped on the cot (accompanied by an omnious creak from the hinge) and stuck his face upside-down over the datapad. “Awesome. Who wrote it? The characterization of Tevos is especially endearing.”
A brief struggle ensued for the control of the datapad. And, when he found himself pinned shortly thereafter, he couldn’t help but curse the jack in the cargo bay, the instigator of all his troubles.
“Is that all?” Nihlus sounded disappointed. He had reached the end of the article, it appeared. “Man, I thought I finally caught you at it.”
He almost rolled his eyes. “No. Now get off me.”
“But it’s so nice here.”
“Nice and firm and…”
“Your hands. Away.”
“Fine, I get it.” Nihlus huffed, and crossed his arms. “I’ll just sit here.”
“You don’t ‘get it’.”
Nihlus actually rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”
“I just had two dislocations.”
“Yeah, and where would you be without me, hm?”
Saren’s mandible flicked in resignation. Then, in apprehension, as Nihlus’ expression changed from playful to predatory.