Friendly Advice

"Love is like any other object of value; it is appreciated more when there is a price."

Lena's mother, an expensive courtesan on Taris, had instilled that knowledge in her daughter from an early age. "Don't fall in love, Lena," Karlaal would say, in the same way most mothers would warn their children about strangers with candy, "For love is merely a shiny trap and the virulent end of every girl's bright dreams."

Lena shook off her mother's dramatic wisdom as she slipped out of her sequined costume. She had never been a fan of the Twi'lek dancer stereotype, but when Griff left, he took more than just money, he took options, and the itchy gold bikini she was about to retire had always put food on the table.

"Hey Lena, have you got any blush I could borrow? Something pink, but not too pink?"

Without looking up, Lena fished through the contents of her bag and handed off a container of blush to the girl who would be taking her place. Shar was young. Mission's age. Maybe younger. She compensated for her youth with too much make-up and a musky cologne that smelled like it might have been a gift from her great, great grandmother.

"I'm kinda nervous. Have you got any advice for me? Something to stop the gizka I got jumping around in my belly?"

Lena tossed her dancer's costume into the laundry bin and looked back at Shar. "Advice? Yeah. Your mother is always right, Shar. Listen to your mother." The girl exhaled sharply and applied another layer of smoky, black eyeliner. "Sheesh, Lena. If I liked listening to my mother do you think I'd be here? In a dump like this?"

Something about the girl's snotty retort was familiar. Lena pulled a beat-up pair of sandals from the back of her locker and closed the door. She still had twelve minutes to make the shuttle that would take her to Dantooine. Perhaps a few of those minutes could be spent on this girl.

"You really want this? You want it more than anything?"

Shar's eyebrows arched upwards in surprise, but she nodded emphatically. "Course I want this. It's my dream to be famous. To be admired. To have people I don't know smile and shake my hand."

The elder Twi'lek nodded as she sized up the girl who stood in front of her, "And what are you willing to do for your dream?"

"Huh?"

"Well, for starters, how married are you to that awful perfume?"

"What do you mean 'awful?'

The girl snatched a green bottle from the back of her locker and handed it to Lena. "This is genuine imported kath hound Pheromones. It's practically guaranteed to drive the opposite sex crazy."

"Mmm-hmm. So crazy sick to their stomach they end up spending all of their credits on your dance partner?"

Shar self-consciously adjusted her lekku over her robe. Her large eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Pheromones are like grenades -- a little goes a long way," Lena explained. She demonstrated, placing a tiny drop of the liquid behind each ear. "Your pulse will distribute the scent every time your heart beats. Understand?"

The teenager nodded sheepishly.

"Which brings us to your make-up."

"What about my make-up?"

"It makes you look old. And cheap," Lena shot back. She advanced on Shar with a wet cotton cloth and began to scrub the girl's face. "My mother used to say that the business of love was a swift race -- and it was always won by the youngest runner."

The girl's features contorted in disgust, "Are you saying it's better for me to look like a kid? Eww. Gross."

"What do you mean 'gross?' You have an advantage. Something precious. Aren't you willing to exploit it?"

Shar stepped back and regarded herself in the vanity mirror. Half her face was still painted like a two credit joygirl, but the other half belonged to a vulnerable teenager. The dichotomy was not lost on Lena.

When she was Shar's age, several rich 'uncles' and handsome 'benefactors' took great care to see that both she and her mother lived at the appropriate level of luxury. In fact, Tarisian crime lord 'Uncle' Davik Kang was so fond of Karlaal, he allowed her to conduct her business outside his syndicate-- a privilege he extended to no other courtesan on Taris.

Perhaps that was why, when the rumors began circling that Davik's prized smuggling ship had escaped the Sith bombardment, Lena allowed herself to believe that her mother might have made it safely off planet. Her hopes were dashed when a pair of Rodian merchants confirmed that Davik's Mandalorian lap dog had stolen the Ebon Hawk with the help of some small time smugglers. Upon hearing that, Lena's heart hardened in her chest -- her mother was dead and no one she cared about had escaped Taris alive.

"I'll bet you want to get married, too. Fall in love?"

"Of course," Shar said as she removed the last of her make-up.

"Not if you want to be successful," Lena retorted. "Trust me -- there isn't room in your heart for both love and ambition."

The girl offered her teacher a sly wink. "That's where you're wrong, Lena. I've got a very big heart."

Regret and emotion fused at the back of her throat. Shar sounded like the headstrong girl she and Griff had abandoned on Taris. Her spirited response had somehow invoked Mission's ghost and a wave of guilt bubbled to the surface.

"I'm serious. Things look fuzzy when you're in love. You lose sight of what matters most."

Shar nodded obediently, but it was clear from her gaze she did not understand. Lena glanced at her watch. Her shuttle would be leaving in eight minutes. There was barely enough time to warn her about the creepy serial groper who liked to sit at table four, much less prepare her for the dangers of giving her heart away.

"True love is a fairy tale, okay? It doesn't exist. Smart girls-- girls who want to be successful -- focus on themselves."

It was hard not to choke on the words as she delivered them. Her mother's glossy pearls of wisdom sounded false and insincere, but her mother had been correct-- about love-- about Griff -- about everything.

Shar clocked Lena's grim expression.

"I guess you think I'm shallow for wanting to be famous, huh?"

"I can't judge your dream, honey. Nobody can. Just be careful, okay? Sometimes what we want most of all isn't any good for us."

Lena slung her bag over her shoulder and started for the door. The shuttle would leave in six minutes. If she ran, and traffic in the square was light, she might still be able to make it.

"What's your dream, Lena?"

There wasn't time to construct a proper lie. She briefly toyed with the idea of charging out the door and pretending she hadn't heard the question, but Shar sounded so much like Mission that Lena couldn't pretend -- and she couldn't lie. With a smile, she looked back and answered simply: "Love."

A/N: I cheated. The word listed in the "one word" challenge was 'loved' not 'love.' So, a big thanks to Charamei for letting me bend the rules a little bit. :D