So distracted were Torill's instincts that he didn't realize anything might be amiss until the sandpopper was firmly parked in the garage and father and daughter had entered the laundry room that stood as the threshold between the garage and the house proper. Only then did he realize that the lights in the main hall were dark. In fact, he realized, none of the lights in or around the house had been on as they drove up. He'd been so preoccupied with Kit that he hadn't even noticed.

Maybe Saalia had gone to bed early.

"Sal?" he yelled, as he slipped out of his sneakers- the ones he'd worn when he left this planet a almost two decades ago- and then knelt to help Kit, who was having trouble trying to hold on to her booty and unbuckle her sandals at the same time.

There was no response from the house. She would have left at least one light on, right?

"Sal, you up?"

Maybe she had a migraine, and had turned off all the lights in the house.

"Seenine?" he asked to the house, a little softer and cautious this time. He told himself he was doing it because yelling might wake Saalia up. "Seenine? Hey Niner, where are ya?" It was odd that Seenine, the old R2 unit that used to serve aboard Torill's ship and now helped to try and divert the little hellion of Kit from getting herself into TOO much trouble, hadn't met them at the door. Very odd.

Kit had succeeded in removing her footwear with only a moderate amount of dropped loot, and at the mention of her favorite playmate's name perked up. "Seenine?" she cried, beginning to run towards the door, the house echoing her cries. "Seenine, look what I got at the fair! Look-"
Torill's hand grabbed her shoulder. "No, honey," he said. "Wait a minute."

She looked up at him, surprised, and appearing a bit hurt. "But-"
Torill winced. He hadn't meant to be so abrupt. "Well, I mean, uh just wait a minute, Kitty. Mommy might be trying to sleep."
Her mouth became a childlike "O" of shock. "I'm sorry Daddy... I-"

He smiled. Such a sweet girl. "It's ok Kitty. Just wait here a minute and I'll go find Mommy and Seenine, and then you can show them all your stuff. Ok?"

She smiled. "Ok, Daddy." She reached up and hauled herself on top of the laundry unit, its two inactive loading arms framing her like a picture. "Daijobu." Suddenly she cracked up giggling. The word was Old Corellian for "I'll wait," but like many of the pieces of Corellian Kit and her playmates had learned it had acquired a double meaning as a bit of schoolyard potty humor.

The childish joke broke through Torill's tension, and he laughed in spite of himself. He shot her a fake "I-am-not-amused" glare and replied "Deskane-ja," which meant 'little sand demon.' He had used the word as a pet name for Kit, mostly to tease her, but now it only caused her to laugh more.

He smiled and reached over, removing her new shades from her eyes and replacing them so they sat on her forehead. "Now be a good little deskane-" her giggling fit intensified- "while I go find your mother."
She nodded, unable to speak through the childlike laughter.
Torill smiled once more and turned to the door. By the time he had reached the threshold, all teasing was gone from his soul.

Too many odd things piled on top of one another. Just like in the old days. He had always hated too many odd things piling up. If this were the old days, he'd probably already have his gun in hand, his gut filling with that mixture of half abject terror and half pure adrenaline-
But these weren't the old days, and the Torill Hendyker of 37 was a much different person from the Torill Hendyker of his mid-twenties. Things had changed, and as far as Torill considered it, this was for the better. The times of Black Sun and his world in it had moved on, and he wanted no more part of what had happened to him.

Besides, what could it be? He was at home, on Socorro, far away from those things. He had a family, had not touched his gun in years. It wasn't as if Avvin Darrst
That terrible accusing look in his dead eyes
or Hobbes
Tell my son I'm sorry
had come back from the dead to avenge themselves, right? Savan was vaporized in space, Xizor was long dead, the other Vigos were either dead
Wake up Mr. Sprax wake up
or too busy fighting it out amongst each other to worry about him.

Right. Saalia was in bed, Seenine was recharging.

But the feeling persisted.

He crept without realizing he was doing so into the main hall. For some reason, his leg was beginning to ache again the old wound where he'd been shot was throbbing, as if it sensed his fear. He hadn't walked with a cane in several years now, ever since his therapy ended, and the return of the pain was an ominous coincidence. He began limping slightly as he moved.

Sure enough, not a light in the house was on. He briefly considered calling them on, but something told him that might be a very bad idea, indeed. Instead, he limped past the staircase and towards the back of the house.

"Daddy?" So loud and unexpected in the tense atmosphere that Torill whirled around viper-quick, his hand unconsciously grabbing for the Sentinel that wasn't there, was sitting in the case overlooking the living room, unused in almost ten years. But it was just Kit, sitting on the stairs, her oversized orange shades still perched on her forehead.

"Kitty!" he whispered sharply. "I thought I told you to stay in the laundry room!" His leg was crying out in unaccustomed thunder from the quick move he had made, but he had a feeling that wasn't the only reason it hurt.
"Where's Seenine?" she asked in response, lowering her voice to a whisper unconsciously. "Where's Mommy?" She sounded nervous and scared. Torill didn't blame her.
"I'm finding them," Torill whispered. "Now you just sit there and be good, alright? Everything will be fine."
She sighed. "'K," she said, slouching against the agafari-wood bars of the staircase.

Torill relaxed a bit and began to creep further into the house. Ten years ago, he might have noticed the shadow in the darkness behind his daughter begin to move. But then, the Torill of 37 was not the Torill of his mid-twenties.