Hello everyone. For those of you who don't know, I am 082 Martian Scout - my friends call me Scout - and I've been out of the game for a while, so I might be a little rusty at this. My absence was due mainly to prior commitments: a demanding job, qualifications to meet, deployment... Well, I'm here now and I'm going to try get back into the game and make up for lost time. I know, I already had one promising story in progress - unfortunately, I have to set it aside due to its intense complexity. So, I decided to start with something clearer. And what better way to start than with a story on my favorite couple in Star Wars?

Real quick before I begin - I want to thank all of those whom have supported and motivated me to get back on my feet, I'd like to tell you all how awesome you are...

...but, of course, it would all be a statement of the obvious.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or anything from that franchise. If I did, I wouldn't have my current job.

082 Martian Scout presents…

— A DANCE WITH SHADOWS —

…

"Attention: This is Governor Vannor. All spaceports and shuttle platforms are secured in accordance with planetary lockdown. No starcraft is permitted to depart Ord Mantell until further notice. Martial law is now in effect."

—Worlport Public Broadcast

…

Ord Mantell, Worlport,
Republic Embassy, Early Afternoon

Why do I always get the petty assignments? Ahsoka wondered as she observed Worlport from the shuttle's rear viewport.

It was the coastal capital of Ord Mantell—the Republic's key trading outpost in the Mid Rim, and the nerve center concerning all military campaigns in the northern quadrant of the galaxy. The city itself, Worlport, was a marvelous sight. A sprawling metropolis composed of labyrinthine districts and structures trailing along the sandy shoreline, with the sea to the south and the plains to the north. It looked peaceful, even beautiful. And yet…

…irrelevant. At least for the moment. All of the carnage and chaos of the war was taking place further outward to the Outer Rim territories, where the Separatists lie in wait with their droid armies and fleets. She should be out there fighting on the frontline, with Anakin and Rex… Not here on a vacation site, with shining cities and beaches. Why would the Jedi Council send her here, when there were far more important things transpiring? She had wanted to argue, but past experiences have taught her to hold her tongue. Complaining only made her look—and feel—like a child in the eyes of the Council, and she already received plentiful doubt regarding how young she was. Even after she had proven herself a thousand times over.

Patience, she thought to herself as the shuttle settled to a landing on one of the Embassy's mooring platforms. Her Master always told her she must have patience, especially in frustrating times. Anakin Skywalker was a hypocrite among many things, but he was still right. She sighed and prepared to disembark. Patience…

A reception was there to receive her as she descended from the boarding ramp.

"Welcome to Ord Mantell," greeted a dapper-looking man in a lavender-colored suit, flanked by a guard of clone troopers at both sides. He appeared in his mid-thirties, tall and sinewy, with kempt red hair and a neatly-trimmed beard. "You're the Jedi representative, I presume?"

"Yes. I'm Commander Tano, here on behalf of the Jedi Order," Ahsoka stated firmly. Whenever she dealt with bureaucrats and dignitaries she preferred using her military credentials rather than going by her Padawan status. Commanders were taken seriously everywhere.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Commander Tano." He said, bowing his head with his hand on his chest. "Governor Donathan Vannor, chief administrator of this region's shipping and provision depot. It's good that you arrived with speed. Our situation grows more and more unstable by the minute." He straightened and gestured with his hand. "Now if you'll please follow me this way, Commander. Time is scarce."

Traversing quickly down the corridors of the Embassy, the Governor strode with an air of urgency and vexation following him. He was moving at such a brisk pace that Ahsoka had to half-walk, half-run just to keep up. Even when she inquired about the situation on Ord Mantell he spoke vigorously and earnestly, as if time really was running out.

"Precisely forty-six hours ago, we had an unexpected—and unwelcome—arrival. This pompous condescending dignitary from some noble house appeared and commanded us to shut down every spaceport and secure every starship and freighter on Ord Mantell, cutting all off-world departures. Not only is he jeopardizing our circulation of resources in this sector, the lockdown is creating a furor throughout the colony—every spacer, trader and military contractor is confined to this lowly rock. To make matters worse, he's posted a fleet just above orbit, forming a blockade for extra measure. He has the entire planet detained."

"Does he have a practical reason for all this?"

"I'm certain he does, at least in accordance of his own opinion." The Governor replied, no small amount of disdain in his tone. "As his proceeding reputation describes, he never acts without purpose, no matter how minor or misguided it may seem. But what can you expect from a Tarkin?"

"Tarkin?" Ahsoka repeated. She knew the name well. "Captain Wilhuff Tarkin?"

"No, actually. Lord Brenald Tarkin, the Captain's brother," he corrected. "I think. Or a distant cousin, perhaps. Who can say? House Tarkin is a very extensive—and influential—family. And the good Lord Brenald evidently has vast connections in high places. Thus the blockade." He sighed. "I sincerely hope you can speak some sense into him and resolve this issue as soon as possible. He was definitely keen on discussing it solely with a Jedi."

"I'll see what I can do." Ahsoka assured.

"Thank you. That's all I ask." They stopped in front of the Governor's office—his title and name exhibited on the door. "Well, here we are." Vannor said, insipidly. "His Lordship is waiting just inside. Best of luck, Commander." And then he turned to leave.

When he was gone, Ahsoka drew a sharp breath and pinged the door. She heard someone on the other side admit her entrance—a deep and somber voice.

Entering, she found a lean, silver-haired man slumped in an elegantly-furnished chair, his hand around a glass on the desk. He looked weary and sullen, with a lined, wizened face, the shadow of a beard forming across his hollow cheeks and chin, and dark circles beneath heavy-lidded eyes. He looked—and smelled—as though he spent a sleepless night in this office, to say nothing of the half-empty bottle beside him. Ahsoka was a little taken aback. She had met Wilhuff Tarkin; the sneering, apathetic, dour-faced military officer—someone she was less than fond of—but if the man before her was truly his relative, the resemblance was faint.

When he saw her standing in the entryway, his left brow raised slightly in a perplexed way that actually did remind her of the other Tarkin. "Yes, can I help you with something?"

"Lord Tarkin," she addressed, "I'm Commander Ahsoka Tano, here on behalf of the Jedi Order."

The Lord straightened on that last part. "The Jedi Order?" he repeated, his gaze more perceptive and quizzical as he studied her up and down. "Apologies, I was expecting someone older."

You're not much to look at either, Ahsoka thought, but she knew better than to say it out aloud. "Shall we move on to the matter at hand?" She asked, retaining her decorum.

"Yes, of course." He said, gesturing to the empty chair in front of him. "Please. There's much to discuss, and perhaps little time for it."

"I'm here about Ord Mantell," She explained, taking a seat. "I understand you've enacted martial law and grounded every starship on the planet, preventing supplies from reaching our fleet and outposts in this sector of the Mid Rim."

"You are well-informed." He said, draining his glass. "And yes, I am aware that, given the circumstances with the war, what I'm doing may compromise multiple military campaigns in this sector. However, I have an urgent matter at hand, and it's imperative that no undesignated ship leaves the planet."

"Why?"

Lord Brenald sighed, lowering his eyes. "It's my daughter. She's been kidnapped."

"Your daughter?"

He keyed the holo-projector. "Her name is Ianna." He said as a ghostly-blue virtual figure materialized—displaying a beautiful elegantly-dressed young woman with long auburn curls, almond-shaped eyes and a shrewd smirk. "She's around your age, willful and intelligent. And tenacious, too, just like her mother. She disappeared two days ago."

"So you're doing all of this because your daughter went missing?"

"Not missing. Abducted." He corrected, seething on the last word. He stood and turned to the large quadrilateral window. "I'm certain the Separatists are behind it, somehow. I haven't yet received any notices or terms, but I know they mean to use my Ianna as leverage against me and the Republic. This is why I've issued the lockdown: to ensure these kidnappers cannot escape."

He went silent for a moment, hands clasped behind his back, starring at the imposing view of Worlport and its vast warren of districts. Even with his bearing, Ahsoka could sense just how distraught he truly was.

"I'm sorry for your troubles," Ahsoka said, calmly, "and you have my condolences, my Lord, but we are at war—Republic forces are suffering casualties every day. I'm certain if you bring this up with local security—"

"Ord Mantell authorities?" Brenald chortled sardonically. "Do you honestly believe this is a matter I can entrust those scoundrels with?" He replied sternly, returning to his seat. "This world may seem beautiful from above, but it's a rat nest like everywhere else. The locals are lowlifes, the market vendors are miscreants, and the cantinas cater to every assortment of filth there is. Even the constabularies are racketeers, intervening—or ignoring—only whenever it profits them. I will not be extorted."

He took the bottle and refilled his glass.

"I'm sure you understand now why I've requested aid from the Jedi Order over a common sleuth." He sipped. "I need you to find Ianna and bring her back to me safely. Afterwards, I'll lift the lockdown and allow Ord Mantell to resume its galactic trade. Until then, no one leaves until the culprits are captured and my daughter is found."

"I understand, my Lord. And I'll do whatever it takes to find your daughter." Ahsoka said, tersely.

Much of the tautness in his face subsided, and he looked more the tired old man from before. "Thank you, Commander, I…" He paused, appearing to hesitate—as if he was choking on the words. Instead, he drained his glass and reassumed his frigid Tarkin conduct. "I had my informant, Emric, watch over my daughter on Ord Mantell. He will provide you both with the details."

Ahsoka felt her brows raise on that last part. "I'm sorry… 'Both?'"

"You and the consular representative. I assumed you will be working together on the investigation."

"What consular representative?"

That's when the door to the Governor's office opened and a young man spoke. "My Lord, the city atlas files your aide provided appear somewhat inaccurate…"

Ahsoka stiffened. She knew that voice. Yet even when she turned to look over her shoulder, she couldn't believe her eyes. "Lux?"

Lux Bonteri mirrored her shock. "Ahsoka…"

Well, I'd say that's a good stopping point for now. Sorry if seemed short and vague - (SPEED READERS!). Like I said, I'm still relearning the game. Progress, not perfection. And since I definitely want to see this story through, and I'm still a little rusty at this, I have a proposition:

What kind of story should this one be? And that is my question to you. I do intend to make this about the couple, Ahsoka and Lux. I think they're both an excellent team and a lovely couple, and an unfairly upstaged one at that compared to the other couples (Anakin&Padme, Obi-Wan&Satine, etc.), and honestly, I don't care about the other pairings. This one is perhaps the first Star Wars couple in which I've become more than fond of. What I'm wondering is how far should it go in this story. I am planning some suspense and drama - but what kind? In a way, this is like a Telltale story, sort of. Maybe. IDK.

To elaborate: Should this just be a friendship story, in which Ahsoka and Lux are friends and must rely on each other as partners, nothing more? Or a romance story, where their feelings for each other rekindle and they become lovers? Or something more graphic, in which I'd have to change the rating on this story to "M"? I personally think Ahsoka and Lux possess the potential to be friends, lovers and teammates throughout the thickest of situations. (And I think there needs to more Luxsoka romances and adventures, because I am NOT satisfied with the scarcity selection.) So I'm doing something about it.

I have a lot figured out, but I'm still undecided on direction. So I need your help. Let's build this story together. What do you say?

PS: For this to work, I'm going to need descriptive reviews on the matter. Or PM me if you want to discuss it in private. Constructive criticism isn't just welcome, it's ENCOURAGED. It's how we improve. And lastly, don't anticipate a daily or weekly update on chapters. I can't promise that like I use to do back in my heyday. As much as I love writing and Fanfiction, I have to put my other priorities first - I'll do what I can in my free time.

Tootles!