”“So we’re good?”“As long as you’ve got the credits.”The Moff pulled out a large bag of credits and handed them over, “This enough?”...��It’ll do.”The old man laughed; “Follow me.”The Mando followed the Moff through the array of stormtroopers standing in parade perfection. They entered a corridor, long, drab and gray, lined with equally drab doors. They were locked doors, of course. This was a prison, after all. The walls and ceiling were solid metal and the floor had a metal grating that gave off. Within a few years though, her Mistress, one Annette Bouchart, had been approached by a man named Richard Brookman, and she had joined his society of Masters. She assumed therefore that after her Mistress had died in 1944 she had been locked up in their lamp vault. She wondered why she’d been released.Sarosa plated up her Master’s food, a full English breakfast, and walked back upstairs to his room. Opening the door with her mind, she set the plate down on his bedside table, and knelt by his. More

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