The Old Republic: Collision Theories
I: Reunited
When she turned the corner and tripped over the indiscriminate pile of trash, she knew she was finished. Her chin hit the ground with a painful thud and she curled up into a ball, waiting for the end.
A shadow passed over her and there was the sound of a blaster shot. She winced and couldn't feel any pain, and she wondered if that was how everyone died--scared, numb, and alone.
There was a thud behind her and the Sith agent's body collapsed onto her legs. She looked back and saw a man, blaster primed at where the agent's head used to be.
"What the hell were you doing?" he asked her.
Her jaw dropped. She recognized him, and she couldn't speak.
"Huh?" he prompted her gruffly. He offered his hand. When she got up, she stepped out of the darkness of the alleyway and into the streetlight. His furrowed brow raised and she could see his dark eyes widen. "Cal?"
"Row," she said, clinging to his vest. "I thought I was dead. I really thought so."
Row looked up and down the street and let a quick breath out of his nostrils. "Okay, okay. Don't start bawling on me now." He grabbed her wrist roughly and started walking with her. "Hurry up. Before his buddies arrive."
Cal stumbled after him. She tasted blood in her mouth and if having a corpse falling on her didn't freak her out enough, being injured sure did. She touched her fingers to her lips and looked down at her hand just as Row halted. Cal bumped into his shoulder and let out a girlish yelp that she immediately regretted.
Row still had his blaster out, which Cal thought was a BlasTech DD6 heavy pistol. Cal swallowed and followed to where the end of the barrel was pointing. A bounty hunter.
The bounty hunter lifted its hands with a derisive chuckle. "Easy on the pointing there, fella." Male. Cocky. Possibly younger than he looked.
"Just using some caution. Found a murder victim not two blocks from here," Row said. Cal could see the rapid pulse in his neck. He had let go of her arm so she stood with her fists clenched at her sides. She had some training for handling confrontations, but she couldn't remember anything except how to make herself look like less of a threat.
"Is that so?" the bounty hunter asked, his voice acerbic. He was calling Row's bluff. "I'm sure CSF is on their way."
"Keep walking," Row growled.
The bounty hunter fired up his jet pack and took to the air. "You know," he shouted over the engine, "that ginger of yours has a pricy bounty on her head! Creds you'll need to pay for murdering an agent!"
Row shoved Cal away as the bounty hunter took off, starting a volley of shots that the hunter dodged until one scraped his shoulder. The hunter flinched and his leg caught under the flame of his jet pack. He let out a yell and Row took cover by Cal in a nearby alleyway.
"Guy's not too bright," he muttered, taking careful aim and firing.
Cal fumbled for the holdout blaster she had stashed in the back of her belt.
"Don't bother," Row told her with a glance at the petty weapon.
The bounty hunter made an obscene hand gesture at them before taking off in another direction, swerving into Coruscantii traffic.
Rising from her crouching position, Cal put a hand over her chest as if to calm her pounding heart. Row resumed the elbow-grabbing position and continued dragging her until they reached a skybus picking up passengers. He shoved her up the steps and into a seat before plopping down beside her.
"Get the petrified look off your face and pretend like we're normal," Row said through his teeth to her.
Cal squeezed her eyes shut and found her arm still clinging to Row's arm. She pressed her face into his shoulder. "Skybuses make me sick," she whispered.
"It's okay, honey, we'll be home soon," Row responded gently.
Maybe it was the stress of the adrenaline rush or the complete about face in Row's demeanor, but Cal started giggling. She covered her mouth. Row let out a small chuckle.
After a short ride, Row nudged Cal and got her up at a stop. The loud hum of incoming and outgoing ships alerted Cal to her surroundings--a shipyard. Before he stepped out of the seat, he reached up and rubbed his thumb on her lips.
"Don't look so surprised, had to get the blood off so it looks less like I clipped you in a fit of domestic rage."
"Th-Thanks," Cal said unsteadily.
Row led her into the shipyard and took her to an old freighter. By the looks of it, a Dynamic-class freighter--smaller than any she'd seen before, and not a model she recognized. It was dust-colored with no embellishing paint, and the sound the entrance ramp as it came down made Cal visibly wince.
"Now boarding for the one-way ticket flight off of Coruscant," Row said as he herded Cal on board. He took her to the cockpit and gestured for her to seat in the co-pilot's seat before sitting himself and taking the ships controls. He flipped the necessary switches and ignited the engines, taking off with a hard burn to get out of atmo.
Cal clung to the armrests of her chair as the ship shook violently from the turbulence of breaking atmo. Soon it was over, and she denied herself relaxation until Row programmed the navicomputer with a tricky course for anywhere that wasn't Coruscant. Meanwhile, Cal composed a quick message to her boss over their secured link explaining a little of what happened.
Once the ship was in hyperspace, Cal let out a long sigh. She felt Row's eyes on her.
"Been a while, Red."
Nodding, Cal managed a small smile that wouldn't split her lip again. "Three years, I think. But who's counting? You know, the last time I saw you, you were in uniform."
"And you had a respectable job in Sector K94. Not running around alleyways with Sith on your ass."
Cal turned her chair toward him and forced herself to look him in the eye. "I'm working for the Republic now," she said quietly, as if someone else would hear. "I got reckless when I was gathering intel… and I guess I should be dead." Saying the words was more of a punch to the gut than those last moments after she hit the ground. No sense dwelling on it.
"With the water we drink on a dump like Coruscant, it's a wonder any of us are still alive," Row said after a pause. He got up and motioned for her to follow him. Outside of the cockpit and around a corner was a short, narrow hallway leading to two rooms across from each other. One was a refresher and the other was a small room which Row entered.
The walls were bare and the cot-like bed was neatly made. The room was just big enough for her and Row to stand side-by-side without space to get around each other, and there was a small closet on the opposite wall that was cracked open.
"I'm going to Ord Mantell to deliver a package," Row told her. "You're welcome to come with me. Obviously it wouldn't be wise to go back to Coruscant any time soon."
Cal thought about her boss and the rest of the investigation team back on Coruscant, and she honestly hadn't a clue what protocols were set for this sort of catastrophe. Row was certainly right. She couldn't be on the capitol planet right now with this kind of mess on her hands.
Cal studied Row for a moment before she took a deep breath and said, "Row, we're practically strangers, and--"
"Oh, I wouldn't say that."
Cal cracked a smile that turned into a bit of a wince as she felt her cut lip being pulled. "I wanted to say thank you. Really. I can't say it enough."
"I've got enough thanks remembering that helpless look on your face when you were clinging to me," Row told her with a snort.
Cal gave him an indignant look. "So what were you doing out so late?"
"Hitting up the brothels. Listen, we've got a few hours before we get there, so why don't you get some beauty rest? You got bags under your eyes the size of fists."
"I do not!" Cal protested, but she touched under her eyes to check anyway. She didn't want Row to leave yet so she stood facing him with her arms crossed. "That's not the answer I was looking for."
"Yeah? You're not the only one paid to keep secrets." Row arched a brow at her and then he put his hands on her shoulders, turning her so she had her back to the bed. He pushed her so she was sitting on it, then he stepped around her legs and went for the door.
"Wait! Where--I mean, is this the guest room?" Cal asked.
"Captain's quarters, best room in the whole ship. In fact it's the only room," Row said.
"Where are you going to sleep?" she probed, her nose crinkled.
Row lifted his eyebrows as if suggesting something, then the expression disappeared. "Nowhere. I don't sleep."
Row disappeared into the hallway, leaving Cal sitting on the bed with her mouth open. As it turned out, Row hadn't changed much despite the three year gap in their lives--and his service in the Republic army. He was still gruff and quiet, particularly neat, even a little flirtatious. Perhaps Cal wasn't in a state that made her a good judge of character, but there was definitely something off about Row. A distance she wasn't used to. Then again, he had just killed a man.
With a heavy sigh, Cal shook her head of any more pointless speculation. She took off her shoes and her square-billed hat, then she set her holdout blaster on the floor next to her. She lay down on the bed, smashing her face into the pillow. It felt good to close her eyes. She had been up for nearly two days straight trying to piece together Harek's murder. Cal was so close to finding the location of that dancer it was rumored he was seeing, but that agent picked up her hastily covered trail. Cal rolled onto her side and faced the wall, replaying the past few hours. Noa, her Jedi Knight partner, was the last person to talk to her back at the office. She had been scouring the HoloNet and Harek's files when Noa told her to get some dinner and go home before it got dark.
Then he left. And before Cal knew it, she had worked well into the evening. And instead of waiting for the skybus outside of the office building, she decided to walk. So many foolish decisions in one night--Cal thought it was a wonder she was alive.
Curling up into a ball, she tried not to think about what her boss would say when he found out, or what her mother would do to her for being so stupid. She started drifting off to sleep, this time her mind wandering to a time three and a half years ago when she and Row spent an evening watching Coruscant's sunset...
---
Cal woke up when they exited hyperspace. Not because of the gut-wrenching creak of the ship, but because her com went off. She hadn't moved from the curled-up position she had fallen asleep in.
Cal rolled over and picked up her com. Then she saw Row appear in the doorway that she never bothered closing.
"We're about to land," he announced. Cal nodded and hauled herself out of bed, hastily adjusting her clothes and smoothing down her short red hair. Her work uniform was an orange and off-white catastrophe that clung to her in all of the wrong places with high-waist pants and a bulky blazer that might as well have been made out of a flame retardant. It was probably the worst possible outfit she could be wearing to go undercover. With no other choice, Cal placed her hat back on her head, holdout blaster in the back of her pants, boots on her feet, and then she went to the cockpit. She sat next to Row. "Good morning."
"I'm docking on the orbiting station to refuel, otherwise it'd be a hard landing on the planet," said Row as he directed the ship into the docking bay of the station.
When the ship creaked and steamed as it settled down from the journey, Row turned to her with a swivel of the pilot's seat. Cal swallowed and tried to make eye contact with him. If Row was initiating a conversation, it was very important.
"I need to know what I can expect to follow me as a result of killing that agent," he said. When she didn't get the hint, he leaned forward and fixed a glare. "Basically, I need to know everything so I know who's gonna be on my ass for saving you."
Cal took a deep breath and calculated just how much she was allowed to tell him. Then she added a little. "There was a Jedi murdered last week. I was supposed to find out how and why, and I didn't get too far before someone figured me out. That's when the Sith agent jumped me when I left the office, and then you came along."
Row ran his hand over his face. "So I'm in a heap of trouble."
"You!" Cal whined. "What about me? We're both screwed!"
Row pointed a finger in her face. "You're staying here, and I'm delivering my package planetside after a refuel. I had a few long hours to think it over, and that's my decision."
Cal gaped. "But--you said--"
"Yeah, I said I'd take you to Ord Mantell, but I don't like getting mixed up in the Republic since the end of my service. Especially if Sith are involved. You can get a ride off of here for cheap."
Row looked away and stood up in one motion, then he left the cockpit. Cal sat still feeling as if she just had a ice poured down her back. After a moment of motionless silence, she remembered her com, and knew she had to look at it in order to make arrangements for her next move. And that meant reading the message she got.
It was from her boss. It was long. The only words she picked up toward the end were: You're fired.
Despite being twenty-two years old and having rent payments and living alone on Coruscant, Cal still felt as if she was about to cry. As if she botched a group presentation in school. Or forgot about an appointment. But it was much more terrible.
She bit down on her lip, winced remembering that she had split it when she fell, then she covered her mouth with her hand and took an unsteady breath. Fired. She had never been fired before. Nor had she been a murder investigator with a Jedi partner, or found herself in the middle of a firefight with a bounty hunter. There had been a lot of "firsts" over the past few months. And this was one of many she could have done without.
Cal shut her eyes. It could be worse. I could be dead. … Like Mom will buy that as a good excuse--I'm so screwed.
The ship shook as the entrance ramp dislodged itself and lowered with loud, mechanical cracking. Cal got up and put her com away. She clenched her fists at her sides and creased her brow with a sense of determination. Everything was going to be okay even if she was getting abandoned on a space station. Six hours ago, she could have been dead.
It wasn't hard following the light of the station out of the ship. Row was yelling at a maintenance droid when he saw her come off the ramp. He stood in the way of her disembarking, grabbed her hand, and closed a few credit chips and a piece of flimsi into her palm.
"Row--"
"It's the least I could do for making you sleep in my bed."
Cal squinted with displeasure and a passing engineer snorted. She retracted her hand from Row and checked what he had given her. "This is way too much."
"Enough for a nice meal and a flight out of here. Get going before I change my mind."
Cal looked up at him, and as he usually did when he was embarrassed or making a decision he regretted, he looked past her head and put his hands in his pockets. "And don't thank me," he grumbled.
Cal stepped forward and couldn't figure out why the man who was abandoning her on a space station deserved it, but she kissed him on the cheek.
Before seeing his reaction, she walked past him and put the credits in the pocket of her blazer. She found the turbolifts and squeezed into one before the door closed. Standing next to an Ithorian and another human woman, Cal put her hands in her pockets and felt for the piece of flimsi. She took it out and unfolded it, more than surprised to see that Row had left his com number.