"Rebecca, time to eat." Okins called from the kitchen as he took a tray out of the oven and set it on the table. Rebecca came in and sat down. She peered over at small paper bags sitting beside the table settings.
"Um, Daddy? What are those for?" She asked, pointing to the bags.
Okins dished out the meal. "Those are 'emergency meal removal bags' in case things go sour."
Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "So they're barf bags."
"No no no....you make it sound so gross when you say it like that."
"Because it is?" She asked, eyeing the meal in front of her. "Do you really not trust yourself with food?"
"My skills are a little rusty." He replied and sat down. "C'mon, try it."
Rebecca hesitantly scooped up some food onto her fork and put it in her mouth. She chewed it slowly, trying to keep her facial expression pretty neutral. After a few more chews, she finally swallowed it and leaned back in her seat.
"Well?"
"It was...oh kriff..." she said, then quickly downed most of her beverage.
"That bad, huh." He asked. She nodded. Okins threw his napkin onto the table. "Well there's the diner down the next block. Let's just go out."
"Good idea." She agreed. Together they quickly cleaned up from the failed dinner attempt and left the apartment for the landing strip where they grabbed a speeder to the restaurant.
"I was thinking..." Okins began.
"Uh oh..."
"I think it's time you learned to defend yourself."
Rebecca blinked, inquisitive. "You mean...self defense class or something?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of weaponry. It's time you got yourself a blaster."
"...a....blaster??" Rebecca asked, unsure of how she feels about owning a weapon. "This has "Aria Brisard" written all over it, doesn't it..."
"Oh no, she had nothing to do with this. I want you to have a blaster. It's a good weapon and handy to have when you're alone."
"Daddy, I don't like weapons. What good is having one when I probably will be afraid to even touch it, even fire it?"
"We'll have to build up your confidence, that's all." Okins said. "Just think, in time you'll be just as comfortable wielding a weapon as I am." He grinned at his daughter until he saw the unimpressed look on her face. "Okay, maybe not that much. The point is you'll be able to protect yourself. What happened on Corellia will never occur again."
"Do I have to have one?"
"Yes. We'll pick one out after we eat." He said as he landed the speeder. "Tomorrow you and I will head to the range to start practice."
Rebecca sighed and followed after her father, now with little enthusiasm. "Joy."
