I do not own Star Wars or any of the associated characters.
When Darael woke up the next morning he quickly found that his partner and his Padawan were gone.
"Sully?" Darael asked as he applied shaving cream to his jaw.
"Yes, Marshal?"
"Where have Lady Corinth and An-Etté gone?" Darael picked up his razor.
"Shopping, sir. Lady Corinth left instructions to leave you in your unconscious state in your bunk. Apparently you drank a little too hard last night."
Darael groaned. "Well, that would certainly explain the headache. I forgot that Tarisian Ale was the hard stuff. Maybe I shouldn't have finished it off."
"Do try not to cut yourself, Sir… I prefer your skin unblemished." Sa-11y spoke up.
"Me too, but if you keep interrupting the process I may as well shave with a Lightsaber."
"I could do it for you, Sir. I can do anything you want me to…"
"Sully, shut-down sequence, code 42-C. Set timer to one hour." Darael smiled as he heard the sound of the droid turning itself off. After another half-hour of morning preparations, including the hungover stumbling into casual wear, Darael was able to look himself in the mirror without cringing. He slung his axe and harness on over his blast-coat and walked off The Nymph, hitting the button that closed the docking ramp behind him and entering the code to lock the ship.
"Should I ask them where they've gone?" Darael asked himself, thinking about reaching for his comlink, but then he thought better. "Nah, it'll be more fun to surprise them."
Darael kneeled on the floor of the spaceport hangar and began meditating, closing his eyes and allowing himself to see through the Force. He saw trails, the leftover imprints from those who had traveled through the port before: a trandoshan mercenary here, a mandalorian doctor there. The path that Revan walked so many years before stood out like a beacon, the path that General Surik took looked like the void, an absolute absence of a trail rather than anything else. After some time of searching, Darael found Corinth's imprint, faint and prideful. He opened his eyes and saw the trail vividly. "Good enough, time to start tracking."
With his hands in his pockets Darael started following the trail, whistling as he was walking and slowly coming back to full sobriety. After a few narrowly avoided mishaps involving female restrooms and lingerie stores and a closed sullustan nightclub in the mall he found his target and his Padawan in a clothing store for mechanics.
"Korvos, over here!" Corinth motioned him to where they were exactly, which was helpful for avoiding the wayward path that they took through the shop. He blinked his eyes a few times and the trail disappeared from his vision.
"Did your drunken stumbling get you into any adventures on the way over here?" Corinth asked with a smirk.
"Nothing worse than what I've done voluntarily." Darael shrugged.
Corinth sighed. "And there you go again, Korvos, pulling the veteran card on me again."
"Actually I was going to bring up this one brothel where I narrowly escaped with my virginity, but I guess having fought in two bloody wars works pretty well too." Darael smiled.
"Oh! I was thinking of the wrong v-card!" Corinth laughed raucously. "Remind me sometime to avoid ever telling Essie about how you still have that one. The things that she'd design to fix that-"
"Are not worth discussing in public." Darael stopped his partner.
"Excuse me, Lady Marshal?" came An-Etté's voice from inside a nearby changing room.
"Oh, right," Corinth mumbled. She then raised her voice and replied, "Yes, An-Etté?"
"I think I have this on right, but I'm not sure."
"I keep forgetting that she's blind." Corinth sighed slightly. "Alright, Just come on out and I'll let you know."
An-Etté stepped out of the changing room with nothing over her face, displaying her lack of eyes openly. Taking everything else into account, Darael noted that An-Etté was in a light blue flight suit covered with generic mechanic insignias.
"You didn't have anything to be worried about, An-Etté, it's on properly. And It looks like we got it in the right size, too." Corinth said.
"Where do we get the goggles?" Darael asked.
"Like I told you last night, those are a custom order from a friend of mine on Balmorra. We won't be able to take care of that until we're back at home."
An-Etté tugged at the flight suit, a frown on her face. "It feels a little baggy…"
"More so than Jedi robes? I would've thought that a more open neck would make it less stifling on your ability to breathe." Corinth was concerned.
"Well, no, but-"
"You'll get used to it. As it turns out, most non-Jedi clothing manufacturers actually care about how it feels and moves." Darael started.
"With the exception of a certain few lady's garments fashion lines," Corinth interjected.
"My point is, Padawan, the clothing is going to feel alien and a little uncomfortable at first to those who were raised in the Order, but you'll eventually get used to it." Darael chuckled.
An-Etté smiled, seeming relieved, though it was difficult to read her for obvious reasons. "Thank you, Master Korvos."
"Don't thank me yet, Padawan. I'm only paying for half of this, the other half is coming out of Lady Corinth's paycheck."
"Hah!" Corinth burst into laughter. "Where on Earth did you get that idea? As soon as this trip is over you're gonna owe me a drink!"
"Ah…" Darael quickly realized that she was taking it all out of his share of the funds. While his own share was rather sizable due to his habit of freelancing every now and then, a guise so that he could go where he was needed on Balmorra or in the surrounding system, it wouldn't quite be enough to cover everything. That and he didn't actually touch any of the finances for the duo, Corinth handled their joint bank account.
"Master, you drink?" An-Etté asked incredulously.
"Of course I do. Why do you think that I was late in joining you?"
"Lady Marshal Corinth said that you had left to take care of some business. Did you really spend all of that time in a bar?"
"No, I was getting back to fully functioning sobriety and overcoming my hangover."
"But that Council says that Jedi need to always have full control over what they do and should avoid drinking!" An-Etté was shocked.
"Who gives a frigate what the Council thinks?" Corinth asked. "Master Bindo asked Darael to train you differently than the rest, that's why we're going through everything here today, getting you the gear that you'll need to be undercover on Balmorra."
"I'm sorry, Lady Marshal, but what do you mean by different?" An-Etté asked.
"Nothing major, Padawan, but expect to get a wrench thrown into almost everything that Master Brianna told you a Jedi should and should not do." Darael told her. "Brianna was the one who told you about the drinking thing, right?"
"Well, yes, Master Korvos, but doesn't every member of the Council speak for the Council?"
"No. And in all honesty I could just use the Force to keep myself sober and not suffer through a hangover, but that isn't the point of my training you." Darael folded his arms and leaned against a nearby wall. Corinth left to go buy the clothes that An-Etté was in.
"Then what is the point, Master?" An-Etté asked.
"To teach you how to live, not just how to use the Force and be a good Jedi. Don't worry, I'll teach about how to avoid the Dark Side and all that other stuff like Lightsaber Combat, but there will be significantly different undertones." Darael motioned to the training lightsaber that she had clipped to her belt.
"Why, Master Korvos?"
"We aren't paragons, and we shouldn't try to be, but not everything is a path to the Dark Side. Alcohol, in and of itself, is not the Dark Side, it only lowers the inhibitions of those under its sway. An abusive father, for example, would not be quite so abusive when drunk unless he'd already had the idea to be abusive." Darael waved his hands about as he spoke, an awkward habit that usually worked, but he caught himself when he realized that all An-Etté saw was probably a fuzzy Force glow.
"I… I think that I understand, Master." An-Etté said after a few second's contemplation.
Corinth returned to them. "We're all done here. Time to go find the next shop in this marketplace."
Darael chuckled, "I hadn't even realized that Dantooine had a place like this. I always stuck to the Academy."
"Well, people live here, after all. There had to be some hubs like this somewhere. I do prefer it to Balmorra's, however." Corinth sighed as the three of them walked out of the shop.
"And why is that, Lady Marshal?" An-Etté asked.
"It's all so open and free. The air here is clean and there aren't plastisteel doors with triple locks guarding the shops." Corinth breathed in heavily, then sighed with exuberant bliss. Suddenly she turned to look at Darael. "Korvos! Our bags, I need you to go get them!"
"Alright, we haven't gone far." Darael sighed and returned to the shop to pick up the almost ridiculous amount of bags. Luckily, it wasn't such a massive amount that he had to resort to the Force in order to accomplish the task. The mass of a new wardrobe weighing him down, Darael walked quickly to rejoin his partner and his Padawan.
Curiously, as the trio was walking towards wherever Corinth had decided their next destination was she screamed. It was high and giddy, perhaps more of a squeal than a scream, but it hurt just the same. By the time that Darael had shifted the bags so as to see more than what was directly ahead of him Corinth was gone.
"Master Korvos, why has the Lady Marshal gone to a pet store?" An-Etté asked.
"I have no idea. How could you tell it was a pet store?"
"The Force flows differently through animals, Master. Right now it seems that the Lady Marshal is obsessed with cuddling a small one." An-Etté replied.
"They have Loth Cats!" Corinth yelled back, filled with glee.
"Do you not want to join her, Padawan?" Darael chuckled.
"I do not see any reason to, Master. We're here to obtain materials for the mission, aren't we?"
Darael sensed a slight trembling in An-Etté's voice.
"Lesson number one in living, my young apprentice. Join Lady Corinth in the pet store and find out why Loth Cats are cute." Darael motioned his Padawan away. "Lady Corinth, I'll go drop this all off on the Nymph and will be right back."
"So cute! Here you go, An-Etté, hold one." Darael heard a soft thump.
"It's so soft…" An-Etté said in a reverent manner. There was a second thump when An-Etté buried her face in the fur of the Loth Cat, a loud feline yelp accompanying it.
"We're getting one," Corinth informed the still waiting-for-a-response Darael.
"But Lady Marshal, aren't we supposed to avoid doing things simply because we want to?" An-Etté's voice was muffled through the beast that was growing more perturbed by the second.
"Do you want one?" Corinth asked very sweetly.
"Yes."
"Why?" Corinth pressed.
"Because it is soft and warm and I just want it." An-Etté tried to say. While the words could have been better enunciated the general feeling of the statements must have gotten through to the Loth Cat, which calmed down significantly, despite the face on its side.
"Then we're getting one," Corinth said.
"But!"
"No buts, An-Etté. I don't care about what the Jedi Code says, it's ok to be a living, breathing person and want things that make you happy." Corinth said.
"Alright, Lady Marshal."
"By the way, thank you for volunteering to take care of it."
"What?" An-Etté asked Corinth.
"And don't call me Lady Marshal except in formal situations, and you should definitely stop calling Korvos Master."
"Then what should I refer to you as?"
"Nadine. Please call me Nadine. But Korvos you should call… Uncle. Uncle or Marshal, but not Master. You really can't give us away while we're on Balmorra." Corinth replied.
"Can I head back to my boat yet?" Darael asked.
"What are you doing still here? The parts for the Aerochaser will arrive at the dock soon and you'll need to sign off on them!" Corinth shooed her partner away. "And don't forget to come back as soon as that's done! I'll send you the coordinates for where we'll be."
"Alright, alright!" Darael laughed, lugging all of the purchases back along his original path there. When he eventually got back to The Nymph he saw a Zabrak waiting with a series of boxes on a repulsorlift just outside the bay doors.
"I'd shake your hand, sir, but I've got some slight issues with carrying all of this," Darael said.
"I can see that, but thankfully I don't need a written signature. Is this your ship?" the Zabrak asked.
"Yes it is. The Nymph, Lethisk Class Armed Freighter, no carbon scoring from cannon fire, green highlights on a cobalt grey hull. I'm Marshal Korvos from Balmorra, and you are?"
"Tarath Vuln, Marshal. Can I get your vocal signature as to your receiving this package?" Darael heard the Zabrak make a few shifts to the datapad in his hand.
"I, Marshal Korvos, representative of the crew of The Nymph, have received this package." Darael sighed as he pushed the button for the bay doors to open.
"Thank you very much, Marshal. Would you like any help unloading?" the Zabrak asked.
"Yes, actually. I'll get these bags into The Nymph and then I'll be right back out to pick up the boxes." Darael sighed as he walked towards The Nymph. "Sully, open up the door!"
The sentinel droid stood in the airlock of The Nymph as the ramp descended for Darael's entrance. As soon as he was a few meters inside Darael dropped all of the bags, figuring that his female companions could handle it when they got back. Quickly, Darael rushed over to meet the Zabrak delivery man and took the first crate from his hands.
"These are lighter than I'd expected." Darael laughed.
"It's the packaging. There are too many parts for shipping's liking, so they pack up as many of the delicate ones as best they can." Vuln chuckled.
"So… All of them?" Darael asked as he grabbed another crate off the repulsorlift.
"Just about. Thankfully, we've got them mostly in at this point." Vuln grunted as he lowered a heavier crate onto the deck of The Nymph.
"Would you come down here and help me with the fins?" Darael asked.
"Right! Be right with you!" Vuln rushed down the ramp and helped Darael to lift the first of the two longer crates.
"Oh, my… Aren't you the handsome one… May I keep him, Master Korvos?" Sa-11y asked, watching the two as they worked.
"Uh…" Vuln started.
"Bug in the heuristic processor, but it would take a full memory wipe to get rid of it and we need its skills," Darael explained.
"Ah, they need me!" Sa-11y sighed.
"Sully, shut Sally up and help us out with these crates," Darael ordered.
"Sir, yes sir." Su-11y stiffened and made a brief salute before taking a crate in each hand.
After a couple more trips the whole mass of crates had been moved.
"Thank you for your help." Darael shook the delivery man's hand.
"I get paid the same regardless of who I help with what, so I may as well. Besides, the company likes getting the repulsorlifts back faster and this speeds up the process." Vuln said.
"I suppose that it's just another example of a Jedi dominated planet," Darael said.
"Perhaps. Safe travels, Marshal." Vuln took the repulsorlift and scrambled away.
"You too." Darael waved him off before checking his comlink for directions from Corinth. When he saw that none had yet been received he elected it was a better alternative to go in the direction of the market than to stay behind with whichever personality was more recently dominant.
Approximately halfway towards the market Corinth sent him a detailed series of directions, claiming that she didn't know the exact address but that they had found the perfect place. Darael hadn't a clue as to what that actually meant but he'd learned to trust his partner long ago. He eventually found Corinth in a high-end clothing store, another mound of shopping bags beside her, including a cage for a single Loth Cat.
"I suppose that it's my job to get this back to the ship, then?" Darael really didn't care for shopping sprees, but he'd posed going to Dantooine as a vacation so he supposed that he opened the door for such activities as this.
"Not yet, Korvos. You stay right here until the tailor droid has your measurements."
"What?"
"And I need you to strip."
"Again, what?"
Corinth stuck out her tongue at Darael for a moment. "Remember how I said that you have no fashion sense? Well, the droids at this establishment can tailor some decent formal attire for you in an hour. Not the best, but I'd never let you wear the best; you'd ruin it too quickly."
"Why do I need this?" Darael sighed.
"Because I say so, Korvos. The last time they honored us for our actions you were in dusty battle armor."
"And what's wrong with that?" Darael asked.
"You were out of place and completely embarrassed me!" Corinth huffed.
"How was I supposed to know that it was the sort of occasion that you would wear an evening gown to?"
"The description in the invitation, maybe? You could've at least worn some sort of old military uniform!"
"I had to ditch those to maintain my cover, you know that." Darael shrugged.
Corinth buried her face in her hands, sighing. "I guess it doesn't matter. It's never going to happen that way again, just leave everything to me."
"Alright, alright. But what exactly have you done with my Padawan?" Darael raised his hands in surrender.
"She's in a changing room, trying on a few gowns. She does, after all, need a complete wardrobe overhaul." Corinth replied. "You Jedi really have no sense of fashion, or decorum, or anything even remotely like that."
"Have we at least figured out what to name the cat?" Darael chuckled.
"Right now it's still just 'the cat,' but I'm sure that An-Etté will figure out something while we're en route to Vanquo."
"Vanquo?" Darael shuddered slightly. "What are we going there for?"
"You know my friend on Balmorra for the goggles?" Corinth asked. Darael nodded his head but failed to see where this was going. "Well, as it turns out she assigned the contract to a subsidiary group on Vanquo who were better equipped to outfit the custom order."
"I… Isn't Vanquo a mining world?" Darael asked.
"Yep. We'll be getting her a pair of welding goggles." Corinth smirked. "Wasn't Vanquo also one of the major battlegrounds of the Mandalorian War?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then we have a few graves to visit. I fully intend to pay my respects to the soldiers there." Corinth said.
"Then I suppose that I should, as well." Darael sighed.
"Nadine?" An-Etté spoke up. Darael turned and saw her in the same mechanic garb that she'd donned earlier, but she was carrying a series of dresses in her arms.
"Yes, An-Etté?" Corinth said. "Have you picked out the ones that you like?"
"Yes, the three on top are the most comfortable." An-Etté said.
"Good choices. We'll find more clothes as the situations prove necessary on Balmorra. Here-" Corinth took the clothes from An-Etté's arms. "I'll deal with the purchase and meet you back on the ship. Darael, I still need you to strip. There's a measuring room back and to your left."
"Yeah, yeah…" Darael laughed as he walked away, watching An-Etté pick up the bags out of the corner of his eye.
Once he was in the stall he found the hooks inside to be very useful. One for his coat, one for his halberd and harness, and so on. He raised his arms and let the cameras in the stall scan him. A minute later a droid's mechanized voice burst over the intercom, "Thank you very much. The suit will be delivered within the day."
The moment that Darael stepped out of the stall Corinth was waiting for him.
"So what color is it going to be?" Darael asked.
"One that will make women wish that you weren't a Jedi. Don't worry about it, I have it all taken care of." Corinth smiled.
"Alright then." Darael shrugged, completely uncaring as to whether or not his appearance was attractive to anybody. "But most women don't know I'm a Jedi."
"Then it will be even more effective, especially once I teach you how to wear it properly." Corinth grabbed his arm and started pulling him. "But come on, we're done here. Let's get back to The Nymph. If we hurry we'll catch up with An-Etté before she gets there." Darael laughed before making Corinth let go of him. They were walking at a brisk pace, not being saddled with the large amount of bags like An-Etté was, and soon saw her when they turned around a corner, but definitely not in the way that they'd hoped to see her.
An-Etté was facing a group of armed bandits, humanoid in feature but their masks made it impossible to define the exact species for most of them. A couple of them were definitely Zabrak, however. An-Etté had already drawn and activated her lightsaber.
Corinth dropped the few bags that she had been carrying and facepalmed.
Darael wasted no time in looking for a way to fix the situation without ruining everything they'd just bought in the process. He looked and found no easy solution.
"I guess that we just have to let her deal with them on her own." Darael sighed.
"No, we need to get her and get off planet as quickly as possible. Her drawing a lightsaber like that will only serve to endanger our cover in the long run, so we can't be here any longer than we have to be." Corinth sighed.
"Then we'll hit them like we always do. I'll take the left." Darael started running and drew the halberd. Corinth dashed forward as well.
Darael jumped off a nearby wall and hit the closest bandit with the haft of his halberd, knocking him out and throwing him to the ground. As the first bandit fell Darael allowed himself to fall with him, rolling on the ground towards the next bandit. Darael pushed his haft forward into the shins of that one, tripping him as Darael sprang up to block a jab from a vibrodagger, guiding the arm aside with a slight push from the flat of the axe heads.
Out of the corner of his eye, Darael saw Corinth practically dancing through her share of opponents. A spinning kick hit one bandit into another as she dropped down to sweep them off their feet and onto their backs.
Darael brought the tips of the axe heads to the chest of the man whose stab he'd evaded. "I recommend that all of you get out of here, now."
"What are you people?" he asked.
"Balmorran Marshals, now go before the authorities get here." Corinth said.
"What?"
"This is your only chance…" Darael warned. The bandit's eyes went wide as he and the only other standing ones took their friends and left as fast as they could. An-Etté was still standing where she had been at the beginning, her mouth gaping.
"Turn that thing off before you get yourself into even more trouble," Darael said.
"But Master Korvos, they were robbing a store, isn't it my duty to do something about that?" An-Etté asked as she shut off the lightsaber.
"It is, but you need to learn to use weapons other than a lightsaber, or we'll be reassigned far too soon."
"I'll grab a stun baton for her on Vanquo," Corinth said. She reached for her comlink and sent a message to The Nymph. "Essie, prep The Nymph for flight. We're leaving ASAP."
"Pick up the bags, An-Etté. We're getting out of Dodge." Darael said as he grabbed the bags that Corinth had dropped.
"Mast- Marshal Korvos, why do we need to leave so quickly?" An-Etté asked.
"It would be impossible to erase all of those cameras that just saw what happened, and we need a minimum on the number of people who know that you're a Jedi," Darael said.
"But-"
"Jedi are not trusted on Balmorra. If they knew that I was assigned to the system as Watchman they would throw me out as soon as look at us. Lady Corinth's career would be ruined and Balmorran trade with the Republic would stagnate. We can't risk any more mistakes here." Darael said gravely.
An-Etté was silent all the way back to The Nymph. They settled on the main deck but left the ramp open.
"Now we wait." Corinth whistled.
"But for what?" An-Etté blurted.
"For Darael's suit, Padawan. If we were to jump out immediately that would only attract more attention. We need to blend back in, and waiting for a delivery provides hours of unimportant footage. Now go organize your new wardrobe." Corinth explained. An-Etté picked up a few of the bags and walked into her room.
"Ugh… Korvos, you promised me that I wouldn't feel like a mother." Corinth sighed as she leaned against a wall.
"Lady Corinth, I can assure you that motherhood involves so much more than teaching a naive teenager." Darael said.
"More of that 'big sister' crap that you tried yesterday?" Corinth offered a wry smile.
"I guess, yeah. But she's learning quickly. Any questions that she asks now will serve her well in the future." Darael said. "And if she is destined for life as a Watchman, like me, then she'll need your help more than anything. I can't teach a blind girl about fashion or how to be a woman and not stand out in a crowd."
"Women always stand out, Korvos, we just choose the degree to which we do." Corinth corrected him.
Darael waved it off. "Regardless, I can't teach her those subtle nuances. And I'm sure that there's only so much that she'll actually be able to pick up as her life goes on, but anything will be helpful."
"So now you've got me stuck helping an organization that my bosses, my family, and my entire planet think I should have absolutely nothing to do with."
"Pretty much. Thank you, by the way." Darael smiled.
"You're welcome, I guess." Corinth sighed. She looked out into the docking bay at the emptiness. "We've got a few hours still before the suit arrives. We'll have to find some way to entertain ourselves because bickering like an old married couple gets old quick."
"Nice pun." Darael smiled.
"You're not helping." Corinth replied.
"I count 572 ways for you to entertain each other and a significantly smaller number of ways to entertain yourselves," Sa-11y interjected over the intercom.
"And you're definitely not helping!" Corinth yelled up to the cockpit.
"There's a holonet projector in the mess hall. I plan to see what's streaming on Dantooine right now." Darael said as he walked further into The Nymph.
"There are three intimate entertainment services that stream to-"
"Sully, permanently block those channels from The Nymph, and put a restrictor on the channels that Sally can access." Darael opened the aft door into the mess hall.
"Sir, yes sir."
Corinth soon joined Darael on the couch.
"Anything good?" she asked.
"Just reruns of Republic Commando Season 3 and a production of Loving Force." Darael said.
"I love Loving Force! Where are they in it?"
"The ending, unfortunately. Luckily, most Jedi don't know that play exists." Darael laughed.
"Ugh… I can't cry at the ending properly without the buildup, and I'd say that all Jedi could be a bit more like Quillian." Corinth pouted.
"Quillian?"
"The Jedi in Loving Force, you know, the one who falls in love with The Force?"
"Such a terrible plot. How it still has productions is beyond me." Darael yawned.
"Quit being so dense and maybe you'll see it, Korvos. Besides, it does a good job of poking holes in Jedi philosophy and showing off what a good Jedi should be, the kind of Jedi that Balmorrans would be ok with." Corinth said.
"The kind of Jedi that I am not. The Force never personified herself to me, not for helping me train and definitely not to warm my bed."
Corinth punched Darael in the arm for that comment, despite her laughter.
"What's going on?" An-Etté asked from the main deck.
"A debate over what makes proper drama, Padawan, nothing more," Darael said.
After another few hours of wardrobe sorting and news monitoring, the suit arrived. Corinth wouldn't even let Darael see it, saying, "This only gets taken out of the bag for special occasions, so I'm hanging it up in my room, not yours."
Thankfully, it only took a few minutes to finish getting the clearance codes for launch. The Nymph departed Dantooine without further incident.