Chapter 2: Searching for Recognition

After a double take to be sure, he risked no more glances. He turned his feelings inward and reached out with the calmest vibes he could manage. He searched her presence for recognition. There was nothing. He felt no shielding as if she were being cautious. It was as if he was waving a hand in front of her face with not so much as an eye movement in response. Ben snuck a sideways glance to see her take a sip from the glass in her hand. He decided to try again, this time calling her name through the force.

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Siri Tachi gripped her glass tightly, using all the strength she could without breaking it. This was her punching bag of sorts, for the moment. She had to be subtle so her emotions would not become apparent to those nearby. She was weighing a decision and every choice she had come up with so far contained some sort of fatal flaw. Going back was starting to seem like a good idea, but she had already decided it was time to move on. She was getting a little old for this business and something inside was nagging her to find a more noble way to keep food in her stomach, and maybe even return to the ideals of her upbringing. She suddenly realized that the sensation of someone calling her name was ringing in her head. She couldn't figure where it was coming from; she had not heard it, she had felt it. But how? Where else could it come from? She had no more time to investigate the sensation when she noticed a couple of familiar faces…

Bak and Tatxa, probably the two most incompetent (yet luckiest) slave traders in the system sat in a booth across the room. They argued, as usual, over the pettiest controversies in shipping policies. Siri cringed remembering how many times they had magically succeeded in their endeavors despite the poor judgment both of them displayed. She wasn't worried that they would catch her, or that they were looking for her at all. None the less, she didn't want to be seen by them. Such stupidity also breads diarrhea of the mouth, and the last thing Siri needed was any hint of her whereabouts making its way back to San. On top of leaving the business with no warning, Siri had purposely dropped her last load for San off at Naboo, a planet with no slave trade. Though she wouldn't have wanted to return to the place of her last Jedi mission otherwise, it was the best place to set a load of slaves free.

Siri turned back to her drink. She wanted to get out of the cantina quickly, so as to not be seen, but she couldn't rush out. Blending in would accomplish her goal better. She would take her time. Once she'd finished off the last drop of her drink, she stole a quick glance at the pair. They were involved, as usual, in one of their pointless, drunken debates. Siri slipped through the crowd towards the door undetected.

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Ben watched as Siri stepped into the Tatooine sun and disappeared. After stashing the bag in his robe and downing one more shot, he followed suit.

The dusty street was crowded, despite the heat of the Tatooine midday. Sight of Siri was already lost in the chaos, but through the force, Ben found her just in time to see her slip into a shaded alleyway.

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Glad to be out of the intense sun and out of sight, Siri slowed her pace and strolled towards the back of the alley. She hoped, at the end of the alley, to find a maze of alleyways like she normally saw in cities of this type. As she turned the corner she found what she had hoped, and the area was void of life as far as she could see. She walked down a ways, leaned against a wall, and pulled out a small, glowing orange stick. Siri hadn't been particularly fond of death stick habits when she left the order. Teachings included the idea that one's body was a place for the force rather than addictive toxins. In the slave trade, however, these little glowing miracles were a way to deal with stress and fit in with the rough characters she encountered in the trade. Just as she lifted the stick back for a second drag a quietly booming voice broke into her thoughts.

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"You know those things are bad for you, right?" Siri turned with a start and threw her hands up in defensive position as she faced the man who had spoken. She found herself looking straight into the most piercing blue eyes she'd ever seen. Neither of them moved for a few minutes. The man stood with his arms to his side and an almost sympathetic look in his eyes. Siri kept her guard hands up, waiting for his attempt to drag her off and turn her in for the reward that was undoubtedly on her head by now. Still, he did not move.

She suddenly realized his eyes were not the only things she was feeling the piercing affects of. In her spirit she again sensed the same presence she had in the cantina. Again it was searching for returned recognition. She lent it none. A hint of the presence remained, still searching, as he spoke.

"Siri…" He reached out for her and she responded with a move even she was surprised with. Unintentionally reverting to the backup hand-to-hand skills of her training at the temple, she pushed his arm aside and moved to strike him in the stomach.

At that moment he tensed his abs and her fist ran into a nearly solid wall of muscle. This seemed a well-known defense for those with the reflexes and physic to pull it off, but he continued into a move that was very obviously not. In a manner so perfectly like the skill she had been trained, he grabbed her firmly by the forearm, pulled her towards himself and placed a flat hand against her shoulder. As she fell backwards, she heard him mumble, "Relax."