CHAPTER ONE
She drew the hood over her face and glanced around quickly, ensuring she wasn't being followed as she slipped into the bar early in the day. The cave like place looked like it had never seen a duster and the people that filled its innards were like a tailor's spitball, diverse and disgusting all wrapped in one; yet her face showed no change as she slipped into a bar seat and ordered a bashtii shot and a fizzy juice to chase it. She allowed a small sigh as she prepared her mind for what was to come, finding the place of cold silence and determination within that made her every bit the sought hand she was. She had her doubts about the appointed location, but she decided to wait forty minutes for the mythical hero.
It was nearly six months after the fall of the Republic and Obi Wan was walking into the Mos Eisley cantina before lunchtime. He sat at the bar and held a short glass with a golden coloured liquid and the bottle by his side, as he had requested the barman. Despite the stupefacient he still noticed people coming in and out of the bar, his thoughts straying from the code as he considered taking a warm body to drown his torment.
She knew him the moment he walked in. His appearance was disheveled, his eyes were tired and his step made him look as if he carried the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. It took longer for him to reach the bar than what it took her to read his entire countenance over the rim of her glass. She gave no sign of having noticed him, but was silently disappointed. She had expected the vestiges of a war general and this man looked like a shell, as if instead of a beating heart underneath his robes there was only a motor simply plugging away until it stopped him from moving ahead. She shook her head and ordered another drink.
His eyes moved languidly from table to table, half a mind to find a suitable partner. His glance moved across the few acceptable choices sitting at the bar and lingered for a moment on a young woman of raven locks and bright blue eyes. She sat a couple of seats away and he discreetly stared for a moment, feeling drawn to her, unable to discern how young she was, for there was a mixture of youth and wisdom in those eyes that kept him in a trance. Her alabaster skin was framed by the hood of her cloak, and he felt his breath caught in his throat as she glanced his way.
Her eyes met his for the briefest of moments, yet she was cautious enough to make it look like she was giving a cursory glance at his side of the bar, not allowing her eyes to linger on him as his had on her. She cursed internally at his carelessness, feeling that far from this being a thrilling chase, it would turn out to be less like luring a mouse into a trap and more like leading a nerf into slaughter. His movements were sloppy, but she saw that despite him being on his third serving his hand remained steady. Maybe there was still chance for this to prove a worthy challenge; after all, anyone could put an old dog down... and she wasn't just anyone.
Her own hand was steady, her mind was barely touched by the empty glass before her and the night previous of rambunctious behaviour that normally preceded a hunt. It was not her first, nor was it likely her last.
He drew his glance from her and felt himself blush at the thoughts that crossed his mind. He shook his head slightly and returned to his drink, trying to free himself from the dangerous thoughts; he was almost certain that she wasn't looking at him, the ragged old man at the bar who looked like part of the decor of the place. She must be expecting someone; everyone that looked like that wouldn't be in a dirty and desolate place like this merely out of curiosity. It might not be obvious to the rest of the patrons, but her air of importance didn't fit with the surroundings. He let his mind wander finding some important task that the young woman must be seeing to, some vital mission that she was on.
She called the bartender and ordered something different, not expecting the Jedi to take long in finishing his bottle, yet unwilling to allow her mind to be anything less than razor-sharp. The slightly fruity cocktail arrived just as the worn out warrior emptied his fourth drink, and she allowed her mind to move over tactics. The obvious one being the least complex one, as she had noticed the characteristic glint in his eye, that little shine that every man held when looking upon her.
Her eyes caught the movement of the Trashidonian male that sat next to her, "Don't I know you from somewhere?" He lisped in the guttural Nolag dialect.
"You must have me mistaken with a female that allows herself to be caught with garbage." She replied in the same tongue, although rusty, her ability to slip through languages still remained unchallenged as the best.
"Oh, come now, a pretty thing like you?" He said, his hand sliding a credit across the table. "I'm sure you're expensive."
He didn't look up again but kept his attention focused on her out of the corner of his eye, unwilling to risk recognition yet drawn to her beautiful features. His ears perked at the conversations around him as a Trashidonian and a small gang of scum approached her with the confidence of either the very well acquainted, or the very drunk. It remained to be seen which would it be. The humanoid slid with ease onto the seat next to hers and leaned closer, whispering something that Obi Wan couldn't understand. The Jedi felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle and he sat straight, ready to intervene at any moment. Old habits die hard.
In one fluid motion she had pinned the scum's hand to the bar with a knife, her other hand calmly sipping the rest of her drink. An impatient huff leaving her lips as she leaned down and whispered. "Try that again, and you will lose much more than just a hand."
Ben thought it was as if time had slowed down, for no one who wasn't a Jedi could possibly move as swiftly. He failed to hear what she'd say, his own movements quicker than of the average drunk as the injured Trashidonian raised his free hand to strike the woman. Kenobi moved before it could swing all the way back, his considerable strength holding the menacing paw in place.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," his voice was hoarse with days unused, a slight smirk on his lips as he glanced around to speak to the woman.
But she was already on the move, her knife had vanished into the folds of her cloak and she rushed past the Jedi towards the entrance and only exit from the place, hissing as the incompetent twat had foiled her plan. She didn't worry, her swift exit had been her second plan and if she had pinned the Jedi's behaviour correctly, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from following after her. Ensuring that the earring would drop was an easy mark for the upstanding and annoyingly righteous Jedi, and had only failed her once.
He only felt her brush against him, his eyes drawn from the wailing scum whose hand still bled. As he looked for her, his vision was drawn to a lone purple stone that shone on the grimy floor. He ignored the Trashidonian's howls and leaned to pick it up, distractedly pushing a Jawa away from the small jewel, his eyes searching for the woman, his feet taking him outside as he looked for her, half in a desire to know more, and half out of a deeply ingrained sense of duty.
She was already mingling with the passersby in the sandy and busy alley, walking hurriedly, as if chased by the devil himself, her senses alert for a change in the air around her, for any set of steps moving faster than the herd, or for any of the telltale signs of a force-user trying to prod away at her thoughts. Her ears and eyes looking as much as her mind was calming itself as she was once taught many years ago. When she heard the steps behind her, the gentle prodding of an innocent party, she let her mind fall blank and slowed her steps.
Ben held the piece of jewelry tight in his hand, making sure it didn't attract the wrong kind of attention, and he followed her silently, easily blending in with the sea of people that filled the streets, slowly gaining ground until he was within earshot.
"Miss?" He called, but either she didn't listen or decided to ignore him.
She smirked, her face hidden from the man until he called again, more insistently.
"Miss?" this time his hand reached and held her arm gently.
She gave a practiced shiver and turned to look at him, who in turn felt a shiver ran along his spine. He felt suddenly lightheaded as her impossibly blue eyes met his grey ones.
She blinked, her expression was impassive and impossible to read, her mind equally closed through the force to his curious prodding. He smiled warmly. "You dropped this", he slowly placed the earring in her hand, wanting to reassure her, wanting to let her know she was safe with him.
Her eyes dropped to the purple stone and something changed in her face as she looked back up at the old man, "th-thank you." She seemed to be nervous still.
He shrugged and continued to smile at this young woman, "I would say a nice girl like you shouldn't be hanging out in places like that… but it would seem that you can handle yourself."
She gave him a sweet and shy smile that managed to hold a mischievous edge to it, as someone who holds the secret to a good joke, or the ending to a new story. "If you can't survive outside your door, then you better love being behind it."
The wind howled and she looked up to the skies, her eyes full of a curiosity of their own, her thoughts far away, calculating her next step as the rising drafts of air announced a sandstorm. He took advantage of her momentary distraction to inspect her features and it took him a brief moment to make up his mind about her.
"Dust storm!" he shouted above the high winds, "I have a place not far from here!"
She looked at him and shook her head. "My ship is is just on the edge of town," she didn't wait for a reply and started on her way, her arms folded within her cloak, fingering the edges of one of her knives. Although the man looked more like a beaten pup than anything, he could still be playing her. And she didn't have her track record by being careless. No, let him be trusting.
The Jedi followed without a particular reason other than his sense of wonderment at this girl. For he now saw that she was younger than his first glance had indicated, but his curiosity outweighed his good sense and he let instinct take its course.
The storm raged outside as they stepped into the ship, the ramp sealing noiselessly behind them. She moved around the place, pressing switches and checking screens as he stood with his arms folded over his chest, his head buzzing slightly with the leftovers from his liquid lunch, his eyes following her every move until she stilled and looked at him.
"I'm G," she held out her hand.
He smiled and shook it, "Ben…" he hesitated, his good sense finally kicking in and kept his last name to himself.
She waited for several moments before arching a brow. "What kind of a kriffin name is Ben?"
He chuckled. "What kind of a kriffin name is G?"
Her smirk widened and her eyes glinted as she stepped closer to him, resting one delicate hand on his chest and another around his neck. "Wouldn't you like to know…" her voice a calculated silky whisper that left him speechless as she pressed against him, her face inches from him, her smile turning wicked, her eyes hiding the highly analytical brain at work behind, a mind that was quickly assessing the situation.
He stammered, "I… Well…" he blushed brightly as his eyes met hers, unable to read her thoughts yet hopelessly drawn to that endless blue, like a sea in a storm. All of his wit and sharp senses lost before this woman.
She spun and walked away from him. "Must be a lonely life," she glanced over her shoulder and winked at him.
He saw with dismay that she had deftly taken his lightsaber from its secure place at his belt.
"But I suppose a Jedi is used to solitude by now?" she held the weapon up and looked at it, then she looked up at him, her eyes trailing from his head to his worn boots and back again, a single glance that could be taken as a sign of flirtation, but what her eyes gained in sultry looks, they also found the man had no further weapons beyond the one she had taken from him. The true defeat of this man would be… pitiful. Her fingers moved up his front and she tugged on the front of his tunic with two fingers, her eyes finally meeting his again.
He felt his insides leap and he bit his tongue, he had given that much away but there were still plenty of Jedi across the galaxy. He chuckled, trying to remain nonchalant, trying not to let her know how much her seducing smile was getting under his skin. "We are indeed." He was stalling, moving over to her side, unsettled by this woman, this elusive girl that was certainly more than capable of fending for herself. He was amused to find that he liked that, but he first needed his weapon back. "Aren't you a little young to know much about Jedi? Or are Jedi tales like nursery rhymes where you're from?" He trailed off as her bright eyes met hers, very aware of the warmth of her body near his own.
She turned and stepped closer to him, her lips brushing against his jaw "I'm older than I seem."
"You're a little girl." He smirked, looking at her carefully, amused by her wit, impressed by her confidence, the charade she was encouraging gave him energy, and gone was the tired and pained man that sat at the bar. Behind his grey eyes she saw life come forth, like a Neris shark when blood was near.
"I'm twenty one, old enough to be able to put a Clone War artefact down in a battle of wit." She sneered playfully.
She held her breath for a moment as she made the gamble, the move that would determine the outcome, her eyes on his as she tossed the lightsaber gently to the sofa behind her, taunting him to get his weapon back if he dared.
He smirked and took a step forward, his body confident as he pressed against her, making no move for his lightsaber, the weapon sung to him, and he knew it would be in his hands within half a breath if he required it, yet his hand settled on her back instead.
She turned her face up as he stood inches from her, her curiosity swelling as she felt her heart betray her otherwise contained calm, giving a quick beat despite her remaining in absolute control.
His nose brushed her neck and her scent was intoxicating, as if it rolled off her skin in waves. He shifted and looked down slightly as he was only a little taller than her, she tilted her head up and met his eyes, he could get lost in the depth of those eyes.
His fingers reached slowly, almost timidly, and started drawing back her cloak, finding no resistance on her part, his heart thrumming as he pushed every other thought aside from his mind, her warmth rolling off her body as his eyes remained unmoving from her still face.
She gave him a smile that broke the last of his defences, at that moment his mind was completely occupied with the beautiful creature standing in front of him. She shrugged the cloak back and he stared at her.
His eyes danced along the newly discovered land, her body was encased in a tight black outfit consisting of a short top, tight trousers, and long boots. His eyes lingered on her hip, where a large tribal tattoo marked her smooth skin. His hand moved to her hip, as if drawn by a magnetic force, his eyes drawn to her perfectly sized breasts, his thoughts of drowning between them.
His eyes were caught by her gaze, and he felt frozen on the spot "I-…"
Her hands rested on his chest and she smiled, "Pleasure to meet you…. Ben." And she stood on her toes and kissed him.
His touch was unsure but he let instinct take over as he pulled her close, his fingers moving across her body, her lips fierce against his as her hands cupped his face. His heart pounded in his chest as she relieved him of his tunic, his body scarred from lost battles and memories of lost wars forgotten as his own fingers moved with trepidation to pluck at the laces of her cropped leather shirt, her holster deftly removed by her free hand and too soon was she naught but in her lace before him.
His lips left hers as they moved across her skin, down her neck, his lips finding her breast as she arched into his touch, their sounds of pleasure riding on the seats of their breathless needs.
His hands slid down her sides and he pulled her legs around his waist, walking to her modest cot, his lips still planted against her jaw as his fingers found purchase elsewhere.
Her own fingers went to work relieving his pants from his body, finding the truth of the Jedi that lay under. Nothing. He blushed slightly, but his words were forgotten as her hand wrapped around him and started to stroke.
He could only endure so much, he knew. He felt the rising tide creep closer with every passing moment, finding her wrists and restraining her hands above her head, grinding against her, please to find her warm and inviting and ohsoready for him. Leaning down, he kissed her once more, releasing her hands he reached down and removed the damp scrap of lace with a single tug, his hand caressed her, his thumb finding the swollen nub and rubbed gently as his lips made their way down her neck once more, her body arching into his as she whimpered, grinding against him, but he did not stop his ministrations until she was truly begging for him.
Positioning himself above her, he pulsed in slowly, her legs wrapping around him, pressing high above his hips, creating a tightness in which he had to still and shudder and breathe before being able to advance.
The act was simple and the dance as old as time, but he couldn't help when he felt the oncoming tide, nothing he could do could stop it and he felt the rip start deep in his gut and move all the way through his soul as he continued to move, unaware if she met her end or not.
They continued to move together until he could not move anymore, collapsing over her as she shuddered and quivered under him, her fingers tangled in his hair and panting against his neck as she shifted under him. Rolling over he landed on a strip of bed and reached out to pull her close, his eyes heavy from exertion.
After the battle she easily scurried away from his reaching arms as he dozed quietly. She recovered the weapon she had expertly taken from him and slipped into the fresher, locking the sabre away and drawing out her favourite blade. Then she looked up at her reflection on the mirror, her eyes hard and unflinching, a cold calmness coming over her as she fingered her knife, what followed now was something she'd done often and without remorse. She was the best at her job and that was not about to change, she analysed her features and was glad to find everything as expected, not a sign of hesitation. She smirked, hiding everything that might get in the way. "Showtime Princess."
She walked back to the small cabin after several minutes, her eyes moving over his dozing form. She smiled. This was not the way she thought she'd bring down "The Negotiator", not the thrilling mission she had expected, and hadn't she accepted Vader's task because of the rush? Well, she'd gotten a different rush but now it was the time to fulfil her contract. She moved with well-practiced ease, straddling his hips without so much as ruffling the sheets. "This where I kill you, Obi-Wan Kenobi." Her voice was low and deadly, but it was enough to make his eyes flutter.
"How did you know?" he stared at her and she saw a myriad of emotions run through his steely grey eyes in quick succession. Confusion, regret, disappointment, sadness… But not fear. "G-... I… I thought…"
She sneered. "I don't want to hear it Jedi." She leaned closer but he didn't flinch, his eyes merely followed her. "Vader has his orders."
He frowned, shifting for the first time, as if the name stung more than the knife she was already holding to his throat, aware of the weight of her body over his. Then understanding dawned on him. "Ah… You're a bounty hunter."
Disgust formed a snarl on her beautiful features. "You insult me Jedi."
He shrugged and laid back, his eyes closing. "It doesn't matter, assassin." His face was serene for the first time since they'd met, here was a man who was ready and unafraid to die.
She hesitated for the first time in her already prolific career. "Really? I don't think I've ever had anyone just… take it." Her mind spun at the Jedi who waited for her to murder him in cold blood.
His eyes remained close, his voice as calm as Corelian breeze. "When you've gone through as much as I, Death stops being a frightening foe, becomes thankful alternative."
Her brow pinched as she stared at him, biting her lip and feeling unreasonably conflicted about her course of action. She felt her usually still hand quiver, which terrified more than anything else going through her mind. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this man, but she pushed the thought away for the moment, her grip firm once more. "Well, I can't think of a life that would make me prefer death," she smirked with bitterness, "and I've known hell enough not to say that lightly, Jedi. When you have a Sith as your contractor…"
He blinked, his eyes opened and there was a kindness there that unsettled her. He shook his head slowly, "Vader may be cruel, but all villains are heroes in their own mind," as he talked his eyes turned distant, as if remembering an old forgotten story and not something as vivid as the recent downfall of his best friend, the memory of which was more painful than the silvery scars had been, more painful that the death of his master. "Vader was on a path, a secret conquest none of us knew about, even if some of us should have seen the signs… Padme," brow pinched, "myself… All because of some senator's ambitions to become emperor…" He looked at her, his eyes were dry but full of pain. "So if you will kill me, have away with it and claim your reward."
She found herself staring at this man, unable to stop from thinking there was something more to those sad eyes than a worn out veteran. Her brow pinched and the words were out of her lips before she could stop, "I'm Giorgi."
He leaned up and took a closer look at her, his own curiosity back, as something told him he had just been granted a reprieve, even if a momentary one. "Well, hello there," he grinned, as if he hadn't been inches from death, as if the realisation of this young woman being pressed so intimately against him was not the consequence of a death order.
Her stormy blue eyes met his and her blade was away from his throat, a fine line of blood marking the place where it had rested. "Kenobi," she smirked and leaned down, her hands supporting her weight over him, her face inches from his while his hands moved tentatively around her waist and up her back.
She shifted against him and rolled her eyes "I'm being serious here Jedi."
He blushed and smirked, "I cannot dictate how my body proceeds, Assassin. Only how I utilize it. Now. I suggest you kill me before I lose control of my restraint."
She chuckled and shifted against him once more, amused at finding the Jedi more alert than before, "and if I don't kill you now?"
He noticed her knife hand relaxing, and in one easy movement he flipped over her, her hand pressed against the bedding, "murder will keep." He muttered, kissing down her neck once more.
She laughed softly while being pulled closer by him, grinding back in response. "Kenobi… really?"
"Really, tell me no right now." His eyes bore down on her face as she bit her lip, causing him to groan, feeling the tightness sweep through him once more. It was all he needed for his mind to swipe everything else away, everything but the magical creature in his arms.
Sandstorms were a serious affair on the desert planet, ships were stranded, people sought refuge and businesses closed; not to mention the damages to those unprepared to face the strong corrosive winds. But she wasn't amongst those people. Her ship was top of the line Corellian Cruiser, one of the few of it's kind, and the only one specially modified to battle against imperial destroyers. The hyperdrive was an amalgam of systems designed by the owner herself, and the external protection was of a construction beyond the requirements of the most detailed Kuattian ships. This was a ship that would stand the fires of Mustafar itself. And so it was that the Jedi and the Assassin were stranded for the next three and a half hours in her ship. Time which was spent in exploring new territory within the confines of the vessel, by the time the dust had settled there was hardly a surface on the ship untouched by the ardent fire that seemed to fuel them endlessly.
G looked at the man dozing in her bed, his features were soft in sleep and it made him seem younger than her estimated 40 years. Not that she'd been given any particular number, it made no difference to her as long as she knew how well a man could fight or defend himself. This so-called hero had failed every step of the way so far, her wits proving more than he expected, her body more than he could handle. Her grin was sharp as she thought of how easily men heeled before a woman's body, even if they were Jedi.
She wrapped a towel around her body and padded silently to the cockpit. The storm was subsiding and her instruments told her it was safe to take off, it took her only a moment to draw a plan of action and begin its execution. Once the vessel had broken atmosphere she keyed in the data to the navicomputer, making the most effective route and setting into hyperspace. Only then did she lean back on her captain's chair, her fingers playing restlessly with a strand of hair as her mind worked out the details of her plan. She would have to make an identity, and clear with security, yes. It would only take a call or two, and it would be the simplest solution.
Her eyes stared at the star-frayed landscape of hyperspace as her mind checked off boxes. The Jedi wasn't likely to escape as long as she kept his attention on her, and as long as his weapon remained in her power. He could prove to be a valued source of information if, as Vader thought, the man was still in contact with the rebellion, which would grant her even more clout in the increasingly tense imperial network. Rumours of a secret super base had high ranking naval operatives fidgeting at the mere mention of men like Willuf Tarkin, and the fear Vader's presence caused whenever he visited the Imperial Station on Anaxes had multiplied.
Yes, the Jedi could prove an asset if kept alive.
She spun on her seat and moved to the communications panel, her fingers tapping dexterously a message to one of her trusted connections in the higher imperial ranks. If she was to keep this little mouse around to toy with, she would cover all her bases first. The response to her query was immediate, and she grinned as she forged the imperial credentials with ease, her ears perking at the sound of steps getting closer from her suite.
Her eyes remained on the screen and although her every nerve became aware, she maintained an easy and relaxed composure. She still kept the Jedi's weapon, but she knew better than to trust an old warrior, despite how hopeless and lost he might have looked when she stood bare before him. She refused to be careless.
"Who is Captain B. Kendo?" She could feel his warmth behind her, and his voice was low and thick, clearly still not fully awake.
"That would be you Ken, unless you want a hundred imperial troops on you as soon as we arrive." She didn't look back, focusing on the last details of the credentials. "We'll need to crop your hair, and you need a picture with proper attire." Her brow furrowed ever slightly as her thoughts ran a quick inventory of the uniforms on ship, nodding to herself. "Get yourself cleaned up."
Obi Wan cocked his head, looking at the woman as she gave orders as if she was an army general herself, her voice leaving no room for questions. Yet he tried his luck. "And what if I don't?" He smirked. He wasn't a fool, he knew without any protection a hundred imperial troopers would be the least of his troubles; but he had also thought of the advantages of being on an imperial base. His curiosity had made the decision before she closed the hatch of her ship back on Tatooine, but he wanted to test the limits of this impassively cool and collected girl.
She spun on her chair and gave him a sweeping look, a devilish smile drawing over her face. "Then don't, and I will personally make sure you last as long as a human can under imperial torture, you'll be begging to die long before the end…" she gave a small shrug to show it was of no importance to her, "I will get my reward one way or another, but if you want to stay alive I'm your only bet. Jedi."
He looked steadily at her, his grin unfaltering and his eyes fixed on hers as he gave as small bow, "as you command. Milady." He didn't see her eyes rolling in contempt as he turned on his heels and directed his steps to her sonic shower, secretly glad to be able to wash the dust and sand completely off for the first time in months.
An hour later she stood in front of him, her brow arched, her teeth nibbling her lower lip as she looked at the man she was to sneak into the base as an imperial from the outer regions. She had devised a simple cover, he was an undercover operative on leave from his missions in the outer rim and as such it was understandable that he should look… worn. His newly cropped hair met the imperial standard and his beard was less shaggy than a few minutes prior and wouldn't cause anyone to look twice. The captain's uniform she had pulled from storage fit him like a glove.
He fidgeted slightly in the unusual clothes, tugging at the high collar, the material too stiff and prickly for his taste. He squared his shoulders and stood straight, thinking of this as a new mission on top of a means for survival, his eyes following the woman as she assessed him, trying not to groan as he itched to bite the lip she was attacking with such insistence. "Giorgi. Would you be so kind as to stop that?" His voice steadier than he felt.
She looked up from the insignias on his chest. "Stop what?"
"Biting your lip." His hand reached for her, pulling her close and kissing her. Blushing at his own boldness.
She allowed the gesture patiently and drew back, letting a smile surface, "it's my lip Ken, I do of it as I please."
He frowned, "not sure I like Ken."
She snorted, "tough chance Kenny," she leaned up on her toes and placed a coquettish kiss on the corner of his lips, "you better get used to it."
He sighed and nodded.
"Which reminds me," she continued, moving away from the Jedi and pulling her cloak on, as they were a few minutes from breaking into Anaxes' atmosphere. "I run the tea house adjacent to the imperial base, and I'm nothing other than Lady G, or Lady Grey to the imperials. No questions asked."
He looked at her as she sat on the pilot's seat. "Roger that Lady G."
She gave him a glance that he couldn't cypher, but was spared from having to dwelling on it as the ship lurched out of hyperspace. Her attention was drawn from him as she focused on bringing the ship to planet, just in time to miss his paling parlour and the way his hand clung to the back of the co-pilot's seat, his eyes closing as he avoided staring at the planet spinning in front of them as they levelled to the surface.
He muttered softly in hutteese and retreated to the back of the cockpit, keeping a firm grip on any steady surface he could find. By the time they landed he was his usual self once more. He didn't know if she had noticed his episode, but he was glad she didn't mention anything as she led the way from the ship, the Jedi's lightsaber secure at her hip and hidden by her black cloak.
Her step was sure, she walked like a woman who owned the world around her, and he followed in step like a man on a lead. "Lady Grey!? Didn't expect to see you back so soon." The tall dark man beamed and her step faltered only for a moment as she took register of the man.
"Commander Hagood. Always a pleasure." She slowed so the man could catch up, his eyes not wavering from her lithe form, ignoring the man in her shadow. Ben noticed she didn't embrace the man, but spoke fondly with him, both talking about people they both knew, places they had both seen, until they arrived at "GG's Black Hand" tea room, and the good Commander bowed, "Can we expect you to be dancing tonight?"
She shrugged and smirked, "I would if you asked me Commander."
"Then this is me asking," he took her hand and bowed over her knuckles, kissing the back of her hand chastely. "Please dance tonight."
She nodded, "pass the word around."
"Might want to reorder your stock milady." And with a wink the commander trotted off to the barracks beyond.
"Smooth swine." She smirked and mumbled, "You're going to be my bouncer until I decide what to do with you. Don't make yourself noticeable, and I'll give you a cut of the tips. Drink as much as you want, but if you're drunk like I found you, I won't be your biggest concern." She pushed open the door behind her and walked through the dimly lit cosy bar like room.
"This is my tea room. Where we serve anything but tea. As the good Commander preluded, we have nightly dancing" her eyes cut to his blank face, "-of the exotic variation."
He nodded, not trusting his emotions with this woman just yet, "And if I don't agree."
"I believe I made my point before landing." She gave him a steely-eyed look and he nodded. "I have a room set up for you, and a few things to populate it. Your orders state you're on leave for "exemplary work for the empire," which if anyone asks, usually means you killed someone important or got information for them to take down a rebellion. What you do with that information is up to you."
He looked at her and frowned, "And what happened on the ship… am I to presume that will never happen again?" He watched her hesitate with all the abilities of a war weary negotiator stating death in the face as her features softened, her teeth once more biting down on her lip, "Because I won't be able to control myself if you keep biting that lip."
She gave him a brief glance and smirked, "Bambi!"
A blonde lithe woman appeared beside them and looked to the high lady, sparing him only a cursory glance, "yes G?"
"The captain is going to be filling in for Dagmari for a few weeks on his leave. Make sure he's set up for compensation and where to retire."
"Yes ma'am." Spinning on her heels the blonde woman walked off and he followed, giving her one last look, wondering what the answer to his question truly was.