Title: A Weather Eye on the Horizon
Author: The Musical Jedi
Timeframe: Sometime during the Clone Wars
Characters: OCs all
Summary: Defecting is never easy…
Notes: This is in response to the Pirates of the Caribbean Quote Roulette hosted by SparrowSwan on TF.N. My quotes is in bold below, modified for gender agreement. Also, thanks to Drabba for naming the spaceport.. Comments/constructive criticism always appreciated. And, just for reference, not a crossover, though one of the characters is named Jack. Sort of like the monkey. :)
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The sudden clap of thunder and accompanying downpour swept across the surface of Coruscant, much to the consternation of many of the sentients. The sheets of rain fell, splashing huge drops through the Senatorial district, on past to cover the platforms of Idlewild, the largest public spaceport in the northern hemisphere of the planet. Many of the beings waiting for refugee transport huddled under the overhands, and those on the lower platforms would try to crane their heads to see around the upper ones, taking in the rare occurrence when sentient control fail, and Coruscant's natural weather took over.
Avie jerked away at the first clap of thunder, rolling back to lean against one of the two metal crates she had nestled herself between. Feeling the cool wind that heralded the shift in weather, the dark-haired woman pulled the cloak tighter. Her area was still relatively clear of other sentients; most of them were on the lower level, waiting for the next freighters, which were heading to the Mid-Rim or the outer regions of the Inner Rim. The ships to the Outer Rim were scheduled for later that evening, giving Avie a lot of time with little to do.
She watched as the rain drove what sentients there were under the smaller overhang, seeking a little shelter there was for themselves and their few belongings. Most of the groups she saw appeared to be families: an adult or two with smaller ones in tow. All of them were dressed in drab clothes, what color there might have been long since washed away in a thousand encounters with soap and water. Like her clothes, the others were garbed in simple, well-worn garments. Only a few lucky had cloaks to shield them from the rain and wind.
As she was reflecting on this, Avie noticed two men who didn't conform. They strode across the platform, and the woman watched as they surveyed the refugees thoroughly, while being careful to appear as though they were paying no attention at all. Avie narrowed her eyes, taking in the fine, highly polished boots both wore, as well as the expensive fabric and cut of their cloaks, as well as the clothes under them.
They approached, and Avie slid back behind the crate, recognizing them as her father's men. The older one was clearly Cathaoir, one of his most trusted men, with his blond hair and sturdy height. The younger was Jack, the son of another one of his men, a boy that Avie herself had grown up and trained with for as long as she could remember.
She ran a hand through her hair, startled for a moment at how short it was. She had cut it all off when she'd left, hoping to avoid being recognized. Sliding back behind the crate, she slid the hood of her cloak up to cover her face and huddled into it, trying to mask herself as best as she could.
Their boots clattered damply on the permacrete as they strolled by, and Avie kept her head down until she could see the soles clearing the crate on the other side of her. Risking a glance, Avie tilted her head just enough to see beyond the edge of the hood, only to find Jack staring at her face as he walked away.
He didn't stop immediately, but Avie noticed his hesitation. Cathaoir, however, did too. Even as Jack glanced away, Cathaoir followed his gaze. The older man stopped as his blue eyes met her brown.
He made his way back and knelt before Avie, the glint in his eyes daring her to look away. "You didn't think he'd just let you go, did you?" he asked quietly.
Avie looked up at Jack, who hung back a few steps from Cathaoir. He was studying her face, although she couldn't tell if he would have preferred to keep walking or turned around and approached her first. "Some things you just have to try, Cath," she replied just as softly. "How did you find me?"
Jack shifted his weight slightly before answering, "One of your dad's men – he was in Cloud City by chance when you sold your ship. He recognized it, so when the call came that you disappeared…" He trailed off with a shrug, and Avie could hear what he left unspoken: If it weren't for that, we wouldn't have found you.
Cathaoir glanced back, a furrow set between his brows as he glared at the younger man. The expression was gone when he looked back to Avie, replaced by a brusque, no-nonsense expression. "We're taking you home."
"I'm not going." Avie returned his look levelly, not daring to glance at Jack.
"I'm afraid you are," Cathaoir replied. "You're not like other people, Avie. You can't just run off. A vigo's daughter has her place, just like anyone else. You know too much, and you know that."
"I'm not going," she replied again. "I'm not going learn the family trade and I'm sure as hell not going to work for Xixor."
Jack glanced over his shoulder, looking mildly concerned and noting the location of the other refugees, as Cathaoir leaned forward until his face was inches from her own. "The pirate is in your blood, girl, so you'll have to square with that."
Even as his hand clenched onto her arm, bruising the skin, Avie didn't flinch or look away. "There's not enough blood in my body to atone for that," she hissed between her teeth.
The older man yanked her to her feet in a fluid motion as he stood. "That's not my concern. I was just asked to bring you back." His grip loosed for a moment as he noticed her hair, the hood having slid off when he pulled her up.
Jack shook his head. "Stars' end, Avie. Your hair," he murmured.
"Don't make this harder than you have to," Cathaoir interjected. "There's two of us and one of you, and I taught you everything you know."
Avie tried to ignore Jack as he continued to stare at her short, no longer curly hair. "Harder? What do you know about harder, Cath? I saw a man executed for treason against Black Sun when I was six! Tell Papa I don't want it. I don't want to be the next vigo, and I don't want his money or his things. They're all tainted by blood money. Tell him that Iana or Niv can do it."
Despite himself, Jack snorted while Cath just gave his head a shake. "Your brother can't find his way out of an empty room, while your sister lacks the inherent instinct to run a business such as this."
"Business!" Avie spat. Then she snorted herself and spat onto his expensive bantha-skin boot.
Cathaoir lost his temper and slapped her across the face. In response, Avie, jerked her arm out of his grasp, feeling the skin break behind his fingers, and started to run across the platform. Jack managed to move around Cathaoir and get a hold of her cloak, slowing her down and causing Avie to slip, though she managed to stay upright.
"Avie, wait," he cried, as she twisted in the cloak, fumbling to release it.
She glanced back at him, pausing for just a moment before shaking her head slightly, tears in her eyes, and getting rid of the cloak. As she ran, Avie couldn't help but feel she'd seen her best friend for the last time.
The blaster bolt caught her in the shoulder, and she felt heavily to the wet permacrete, turning it into an awkward roll that miraculously brought her to her feet, shakily. She saw over the edge of the platform, feeling a touch of vertigo as she turned, clutching at her right shoulder.
Cathaoir had the blaster trained on her head as he slowly approached her. Jack was walking alongside him, but his expression made it clear that he was questioning how he'd gotten there. Avie was also dimly aware that the small crowd was pressing itself even closer together under the overhang.
"C'mon, girl," Cath was saying slowly, clearly thinking her a startled animal that needed to be talked to slowly and gently. Avie took a shaky step backwards, feeling the shock begin to set in. Gritting her teeth, she dug her fingers into the area where the blaster bolt had left her body, using the pain to focus herself.
"I told you," she panted slowly, feeling the rain soaking into her tunic and leggings, as her worn boots slipped slowly backwards on the permacrete, "I'm not going."
His face darkened as he continued forward. Avie felt the heel of her boot catch on the ledge of the platform.
Through the sting of the skin on her cheek and the burning ache in her shoulder, she smiled. "Tell Papa I love him."
She stepped backwards into nothingness.