We're celebrating.
Not sure if it's because we've succeeded in killing one of the Blacklist's most elusive bounties, we've recruited a new crew member, or if it's just because it's Primeday. Does it matter? For whatever reason, we've gathered in Gault's makeshift bar aboard the Mantis and he's kept the drinks coming.
During his first week aboard, Gault complained about everything: the drab walls, the lack of furniture, the poor lighting. I finally told him to do something about it or shut up. The very next day he started moving old crates around. He brought in furniture, fixtures, mirrors. He even found an old jukebox. Mako and I watched in interest from the doorway. He was on a mission.
Didn't stop him from complaining about his lack of help.
By the end of the week, he'd set up a bar and even stocked it with drinks. Our ship became some kind of Hutt pleasure barge overnight.
Mako and I jokingly call it the "Star Bar." Gault scoffs everytime we say it. I'm sure he had something else in mind, but we found it fitting. The name stuck. He hasn't charged us to drink there yet, so I assume we're still on his good side.
Gault and I spend a lot of down-time at his bar. He stands behind the counter and I sit opposite him. We talk, mostly about his past heists and my past bounties. He was one of my bounties, once. Sometimes it's unreal to be talking to him when he should have met the end of my blaster.
He makes plans for future heists. I half-listen. He calls me on it. The next night, we repeat. It's always the same thing. But he's funny, clever, and observant and I find that he's quite likeable, even if he's an untrustworthy scoundrel.
Tonight he's watching Mako and Torian with interest, leaning on the counter with his elbow, a drink in the other hand. "What to hear something juicy?"
"Nope," I say, picking up a shot glass and swallowing its contents with one gulp.
Gault shrugs. He takes a sip of his drink and says, "Too bad. It's about you, Champ."
He's taken to calling me "Champ." It's a ridiculous nickname, but a deserving one, I guess. I haven't decided if I like it or not. I don't think I do.
"Is it?" I ask, feigning disinterest. I hope it works. It's hard to pull a fast one on Gault. Besides, when he's got something on his mind it's often better to play along than to ignore him.
"Ah, now I've piqued your interest!"
Then he says nothing.
I roll my eyes and shake my head. "Gonna leave me hanging, huh, Gault?"
"The kid."
"What about him?"
"He's been staring at you all night. And I'll bet the feelings he has for you are more than mutual."
I snort and resist the urge to turn around. But I do sit up a bit straighter and I'm sure Gault notices. He's making fun of me, I just know it. Bastard.
"I'm not interested in Torian, Gault."
He sighs. "Suit yourself." He moves the topic of conversation to his new scheme. Something about salt.
I'm only half-listening to him again. My thoughts shift to Torian and those striking blue eyes of his. He doesn't say much, but I know he listens by the intensity of his gaze. I suppose if I'd been scorned by the people who were supposed to be closest to me I'd say little, too.
He's also way too young for me.
Still, I'm curious. I want to know if Gault's right, but I won't turn around. I'll get an earful from Gault and I don't want Torian to know we're talking about him.
Raising my eyes to the wall, I glance into the mirror behind Gault and see Mako and Torian sitting at the table across the room.
Mako usually wears her hair up, but tonight it's down. She's animated, grinning from ear to ear, talking to Torian. I can't hear what she's saying, but it's probably something about her family. Or Braden. Both favorite topics of hers.
Gault's right. Torian's clear blue eyes are watching me.
And she's oblivious. Or ignorant. Or hopeful.
Gault gives me a smug smile. "Told you."
"So what?" I quickly look down and refill my drink. "He's looking at me. Or the bar. Or you. Doesn't mean a thing."
"Mako's taking a shine to the kid, too. Hmm. Things could get pretty interesting around here…" Gault lifts his glass in a toast. I shake my head and tip back another drink.