Another chapter (Jesus! 12000 words! I'm kind of shocking myself...) I warned you about Taris, though; so far it's three more chapters. But anyway. Updates are going to be unreliable b/c I've got finals, but I'll work on it. Think maybe once every 2 weeks... possibly more, probably not less. once again, thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Except Ashi. Sometimes.
Impulse: sudden, involuntary inclination prompting to action
"All right, you alien scum, up against the wall! This is a raid!" snapped a man in the seemingly mandatory drawl all Sith had. He was flanked by two battle droids.
/Another patrol was here yesterday and found nothing. Why do you insist on bothering us?/ snapped an alien.
Hmm. Not smart, Ashi thought, and the Sith agreed. He fired off a couple sudden shots and the alien keeled to the ground, blood pooling around his corpse. "That's how we deal with smart-mouthed aliens," he snapped sharply. "Rest of you, up against the wall!" Then he noticed Ashi, who had been watching with mild interest up until the shooting, when her expression had become enraged.
"Hey, what's this?" he demanded. "Humans hiding out with aliens?"
"Wow, you must be an intelligence officer," remarked Ashi, trying and not quite succeeding at a straight face.
The man's face contorted with anger. "They're Republic fugitives!" he accused, drawing a sword. "Attack!"
Just as eagerly, Ashi charged forward, leaving Carth to take out the droids. She slashed at the man, leaning back to dodge his return attack, and parried his next stroke. He lunged, and she caught his sword with a twist her wrist, before knocking it away. "I'm not Republic goddamn anything!" she snarled, running her blade through the unfortunate officer's chest. He collapsed to the ground, leaving a streak of scarlet across the floor.
"Touchy," smirked Carth from behind her.
"Not touchy," she corrected with a grin, "individualistic." Ignoring his mutter of 'ouch', she turned to the other alien, concern writing itself hurriedly across her face. /Are you all right?/ she asked slowly.
The alien nodded hesitantly after a moment, wide eyes gleaming in the florescent light. Slowly, his gaze moved to his friend on the floor. /Poor Ixgil/ he said sadly. /He should never have talked back to that Sith. Lucky that you were here to help us, human—thank you./
/No problem/ she said calmly, sliding her sword away. /I'm not especially into cold-blooded killers./
The alien fervently nodded his agreement. /I shall move the bodies, so no one will know what happened/ he promised, glancing at the Sith with revulsion. /Once again, thank you, human./
/No problem/ she replied, a faint grin crossing her face. He gave her a final glance, before turning away to his friend, and out of respect she hurried away. Carth followed, his boots clacking sharply against the worn metal floors.
"You speak Duros?" he demanded, hurrying to catch up with her.
"Actually, there's not a lot I don't speak," replied Ashi, a hint of pride coloring her voice. Her footsteps didn't slow, however; it occurred to him after a moment that she was eager to get away from the crime scene, which he decided was unexpectedly sensible. The front doors parted easily for them, late-afternoon light cutting a rectangle across the apartment building's shabby entrance hall. Ashi turned out the doors and onto the road, but then stopped sharply, making Carth stumble behind her: directly before her was the escape pod, right on the edge of the Upper City walkway.
Breaking the silence, she observed, "Cutting it a little close, there, aren't we, flyboy?" She walked over brightly and peered off the edge of the street, down into the lower and under cities that sprawled below. "Damn, another foot or two and we would have been off the edge."
"As I recall, you passed out before we even came close to landing," Carth replied tetchily. She huffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder—"Not all of us do that on a daily basis, Republic"—and ambled away, into the already-crowded streets of Upper Taris.
The two made their way—one sauntering lightly, the other striding with measured, even steps—to an elevator tucked alongside several military-looking buildings, above which a sign proclaimed 'Lower City'. Here, Ashi stopped, glancing to Carth for affirmation. "You said Bastila's in the Undercity, right?" When he nodded, she continued, "So, makes sense that we've got to go through the Lower City to get there." She walked up to the elevator, glancing around quickly for anyone trying to stop her.
"Hey! You there, civilian! This elevator is off limits!"
She backed away immediately at the Sith officer's voice, hands raised in the universal gesture of peace. "Okay, okay. My bad."
"That's right, move along," he snapped, brandishing his blaster rifle threateningly. Ashi glared, and mimed shooting him in the back as he turned away, before looking back to Carth with irritation clear on her face.
"We're going to need to find a better way to get in," she sighed, her mouth twisting ruefully. For a moment, she was quiet, but then her eyes moved to a point behind his shoulder. Immediately, her eyes brightened, sparking like electricity. Her lips split apart into an instant smile. "But the cantina's over there," she observed, nodding towards a brightly glowing neon sign, "so it's not a total loss."
There were several things Carth would have liked to say—but it's risky and we don't want attention; why do we even want to go there; how is this going to help us find Bastila?—but by the time he could think of one, she was already halfway across the street, and he had to hurry to catch up.
The cantina was thick with cigarra smoke and the smell of alcohol, and music from a live band floated lazily into the main room where they stood. It must have been the gambling room, because all she could see were a bunch of card sharks. Ashi sauntered into the main room and glanced around, trying to see anyone who might be helpful. It was a nasty atmosphere, if not very dangerous, and Ashi wasn't surprised when she felt Carth sidle up beside her defensively. It was kind of nice, but at the same time, having an overprotective soldier glaring over her shoulder probably wouldn't help her pick up information with any degree of subtlety.
"Relax, Republic, I'm fine. This is my kind of place," she assured him. He looked unconvinced, but followed her to a table, where she sat down and began to quietly scrutinize the people. Carth took a seat opposite her, still looking somewhat protective. Ashi bit back a sigh; she thought she had made it obvious enough that she could take care of herself.
Just then, however, a man caught her eye. He was vaguely good looking, but it was the atmosphere he projected that she picked up on: an air of general contempt and arrogance. "Sith at three o'clock," she muttered quietly to Carth.
The pilot looked over and immediately caught sight of the man. "Off duty, good. What…" He broke off, staring in shock as Ashi got up and began to make her way towards the man. However, drawing his gaze now was her walk: suddenly every step seemed lazy and elegant, and… sultry, even, he realized, watching her. Gone was the cocky swagger she seemed to carry herself with, although this walk had no less grace—and no less confidence. She paused at the bar, looking up inquiringly at the Sith.
"Hey," she said, with a distinctly feline grin. "This seat taken?"
"Oh—I didn't see you there," he said immediately. Liar, thought Ashi, watching his eyes move slowly over everything but her face. "It is now," he continued, a Sith drawl coloring his words, and Ashi slipped easily into the chair. "My name's Yun."
"Ashi," she replied with a grin, crossing her legs.
Yun smiled. "Barkeep!" he called, half-raising a hand. "A drink, please, for my lady friend." Quickly, he turned back to her, interest faintly outlined in his face. "So, I haven't seen you here around before—I think I would have noticed."
She rolled her eyes inwardly, giving a little shrug. "Oh, I'm new here."
Yun nodded distractedly. "Who's that with you, though? I don't think he likes me," he observed with an unapologetic grin, gesturing at Carth. The soldier stared back, looking as if he couldn't decide whether to be severely disapproving, or simply to gawk.
Can't he take a little improv? "Oh, don't mind him," she said quickly. "He's just a friend."
Carth, meanwhile, watched from across the room, stunned. He had envisioned subtlety, certainly, but flirting with Sith? Wasn't that a little much? Finally he shook his head, turning away in disgust. Of all the fracking people to get stuck on an escape pod with—of all the fracking people to survive the damn battle…! I would get this one… he thought irritably.
"…So you're a Sith? Wow, that's impressive," she remarked, widening her eyes with the words. Yun was visibly flattered.
"Well. I suppose," he agreed in a drawl. "But it's very stressful, though."
Immediate sympathy spread over her face. "Yeah, I bet," she nodded, pursing her lips. "Must be really hard. I hear the Sith are way too uptight."
At that, he grinned, taking a long, slow sip of his drink. "Yeah, but we're just junior officers. We need to blow off steam. And speaking of which," he continued, with a subtle segway, "there's a party at my friend's place tomorrow night, in the northern apartments. You want to come? I'd really like to see you again," he added with a smirk.
"Sounds fun," she said, only half a lie. This was going to be fun. "I'll be there. Hey, uh, but my friend looks like he's getting a little impatient." One way to put it, she thought, looking over at Carth. "I think I'd better go." She leaned over to peck him on the cheek, adding, "See you tomorrow," in his ear. His eyes were following her every step back to the table, and only when he glanced away did she relax, allowing satisfaction paint a smile across her face.
Unfortunately, Carth didn't seem quite so appreciative. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, leaning across the table.
Ashi grinned proudly. "That was getting us invited to a Sith party, that's what."
He gritted his teeth. "Oh, great, because that sounds really useful. Well, whenever you feel like being helpful… or are you going to go charm some other idiot into buying you a drink now?"
She smirked wickedly. "Depends. You offering?" she asked, raising her eyebrows playfully. He spluttered furiously for a few seconds, as she leaned back, crossing her arms with a coolly amused smile. Then, however, since she was still a little annoyed at his lack of gratitude, she added, "Besides, I don't see you doing anything to help, Republic."
His eyes narrowed, proof that she'd gone too far. "Oh, sorry. I'm not interested in picking up Sith in the name of 'getting information'." His tone and expression made it clear exactly what he thought of this, and Ashi rolled her eyes.
"Right," she replied scathingly. "Back off, Republic, it's not my fault you have no people skills."
Carth, who was finding Ashi more and more obnoxious by the moment, finally had had enough of being insulted. He snapped back, tone insinuating, "People skills? Ah, is that what you call it?"
"Yeah? And what do you call it, then?"
He glared pointedly at her. "Plenty of words for what you're being right now."
Ashi stood up, shoving her chair in. "Fine. I'm not going to pull the weight for you while you sit there and be useless if you're going to be a jerk. Stay here and sulk if you want. I'm going to go look for something dangerous to do."
Scowling, she turned away, her hair flying over her shoulder. For a moment, he stared after her furiously; his eyes moved slowly to the table, and then to his hands, before he stood abruptly, deciding to follow in case she meant it. When he caught up with her, however, he found out she had been deadly serious; she was chatting animatedly with a giant, slug-like creature, and seemed far too eager for it to be a good thing.
"…I could be a duelist?" he caught, hurrying closer.
/Yes, yes/ agreed the Hutt, in a voice like a person gargling heavy machinery. /Go, fight, make money. Dueling pays well, human, don't worry. Ten percent is yours./
"Twenty," she bargained immediately.
/Ha! Let's see you fight first, human./
"I think you'll find I'm worth it," Ashi replied, a grin materializing on her face. "But anyway, when can I start?"
/Tournament is happening now. You get to start today, girl, in an hour. But you need a name. Hmm… I know!" he exclaimed, with what could have been a smile and was probably a smirk at the thought of future profits. /How about the Mysterious Stranger?/
One eyebrow raised fractionally. "The Mysterious Stranger?" she echoed, trying on the words for size. "I like it."
The Hutt nodded in approval. /Good, good. Me too. It gives you no past, no history. People love that… makes them bet more. Makes me money…/ He seemed to lose his train of thought for a second at the thought of money, but snapped back after a moment. /All right, Stranger: tomorrow morning, ten o'clock. Back here then, yes?/
"I'll be there," replied Ashi with a confident grin, before turning to walk away. Carth let her move away from the Hutt—he disliked the creatures in general, and had no desire to object to its own scheme in front of it—but grabbed her arm to spin her around the moment she was out of sight.
"Dueling?" he echoed with disbelief. "I thought you were joking. Can't you find something non-lethal for fun?"
"Lethal is the best kind of fun. And this isn't, anyway," replied Ashi tartly. "It's totally safe. Anyway, wouldn't think you'd care," she added, sneaking a glance at him from the corner of her eye. "The galaxy, minus one slut."
He opened his mouth, and found himself, to his humiliation, stumbling for a response. "But… I don't… well, no, I don't not, it's just… I mean…"
By this time, Ashi had stopped, helpless amusement scrawled across her face. She laughed, breaking the silence before it had time to settle, when his voice trailed off. "Stop sweating, Republic. You could try sorry." Face expectant, she tilted her head, waiting, and he sighed reluctantly, looking appropriately shamefaced.
"I'm… sorry," he said heavily. "I guess that was a little uncalled for." He ignored her scoff of 'a little', and added adamantly, "But still, dueling is dangerous! You could get hurt, even if you don't accidentally die."
Ashi rolled her eyes. "Dying," she scoffed. "Dying happens to other people."
It was the next morning that she found herself in the antechamber to the dueling ring, edgy and eager to prove that statement. Her armor was on already, and felt strange to her; she usually didn't wear any simply for the sake of subtlety. Across her lap lay her vibroblade, sparking in the florescent lights above her. She leaned back nonchalantly, tapping her fingers against the bench with barely concealed anticipation.
"Stranger! It's starting!"
She was on her feet at 'stranger', and by the time the person got the second part out, she was heading for the door. In one hand was her sword, and in the other…
Oh. Right. It had been on one small condition that Carth had agreed to let her duel—as if he could have stopped her, but still. That condition was keeping her identity secret, and in her hand was the key to all that.
She pressed the object to her face, the metal cool against her skin. It fitted perfectly, giving her far better vision than she would have expected, and giving everyone else nothing at all to see. Grinning behind the mask, she stepped out into the ring.
The crowd roared its approval as they saw her, and she was unsurprised. She did cut an intimidating figure, dressed in all black, the mask glinting silver and rendering her faceless.
"Welcome to the Taris National Dueling Championships!" announced a loudspeaker voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, draw your eyes to the center ring! We have a very special presentation in store for you! First up, we have a new entry…
"Finally, what you've all been waiting for: the Taris dueling finals! In this corner, he's fast, he's dangerous, he's borderline psychotic…it's Twitch!" The crowd screamed euphorically as the Rodian pulled off his customary mini-seizure.
Borderline? Ashi wondered incredulously, raising her eyebrows.
"And on the far side, a relative newcomer from the shadows of unknown worlds"—Ashi snorted; he was playing that one up a bit—"to the Taris dueling scene, with no past, no history, It's the Mysterious Stranger!"
If possible, the screams were even louder, as Ashi glanced around, giving the crowd a single wave. Then, she focused her attention on Twitch. None of the duelists, except maybe Marl, had really had any talent, but if the announcer told any of the truth, this Rodian was about crazy enough to be dangerous.
However, before she had time to worry, the announcer screamed, "Fight!"
Twitch fired up his blasters immediately, shots beginning to fly towards Ashi before she even had her vibroblade out. Dodging the red bolts of energy, she raced across to him, and he pulled out a sword in time to meet her head-on, with a spectacular clang of metal. Their battle was short but intense, the crowd clinging desperately to their every movement—after all, when was the last time anyone had put up a good fight against their champion? Finally, however, Twitch's blade slashed across her hand. Ashi cried out, and, for just a moment, the Rodian let up his guard. It was far too long, though; Ashi quickly lunged in, taking advantage. Twitch's eyes bulged in horror, growing even bigger than their usual notable size, and a moment later his body collapsed to the ground.
The crowd screamed its approval, as did the announcer. "Twitch is down! Twitch is down! The Mysterious Stranger has won!" A man in a suit came racing out into the dueling ring, beaming. He reached for Ashi's hand, noticed the blood with a grimace of disgust, and quickly took the other one instead, raising it above her head and shaking it enthusiastically—"Taris, your champion!"—before turning to her.
"So, stranger," he wondered in exaggerated curiosity, "who is it behind the mask? You couldn't be persuaded to take it off?"
He smiled, but Ashi shook her head. "Some things," she replied, unable to help herself, in a voice distorted through the metal, "are better off staying mysterious."
Up in the stands, Carth pressed a hand against his face, hanging his head. She attracted attention like a metal to a magnet, even with a mask on. To himself, he resolved never to let her duel again.
It was late when Ashi finally escaped the cantina amidst flying rumors—she was apparently either hideously scarred, wanted for intergalactic crimes, or the reincarnation of the Sith Lord Revan; Ashi would only accept credit for the second—and she and Carth headed back to the apartment. The next day, she was still interested in looking around the city some more, so they set out. They didn't find much in the residential section where they were apparently staying, but after about an hour, they ran into a group of men.
Ashi wasn't sure whether to laugh or be disgusted. It was only a couple hours past noon, and yet these people, dressed in nobles' robes, too, were already swaying slightly, like reeds in a breeze. One appeared to be only half conscious and was leaning on one of the others for support. She shook her head. "Taris's finest, on your right," she observed quietly, and Carth looked over. His face contorted in immediate revulsion; irrational though it was, Ashi found herself annoyed—oh, yes, because you're so high and mighty, Republic—but it might just have been her unhelpful desire to pick a fight.
Just as she was about to walk past, however, one man gawked at her. Turning to his friends, he stated, in a slurred tone punctuated by hiccups, "Look at that! What's this planet coming to, huh? Slummies, just walking around the Upper City."
"Look at that," said Ashi, turning to Carth and putting on the same incredulous voice as the drunk. "What's this planet coming to, huh? Drunks, just walking around the Upper City?"
The men were not amused, and one fixed Ashi with an unsteady glare. "Shouldn't you go back to the Lower City where you belong, slummie?" he asked, and Ashi bristled.
Carth looked mildly disgusted as his eyes moved across the scene. "Well, this is rich," he observed.
"Yeah, slummie!" chimed in another man eagerly. "Why don't you just go back to your filthy Lower City where you belong? These streets are for upper class! You better get out of the way, slummie, if you know what's good for you," he added. Perhaps it was meant to be ominous, although a hiccup halfway through his sentence ruined the effect slightly.
Ashi's hand rested on the hilt of her vibroblade, the closest she seemed to get to subtle. "You better take that back, drunks, if you know what's good for you. Most people are smart enough not to pick a fight with me, even when they're smashed."
The drunks seemed not to pay attention to the insult, more distracted by the blade she carried that they had just noticed. "Hey, hey, calm down, slummie. No need to get angry," said one. He held up his hands in peace but staggered dizzily to the side, crashing into one of his friends. Momentarily, a smirk twitched across the corners of Ashi's lips.
"Good idea. And if you're planning to keep alive long enough to get slaughtered by your hangovers tomorrow, I think you'll leave me alone now, right?" They all nodded nervously, and she walked past, expression still irritated.
Carth followed, looking disapproving. What a surprise, Ashi thought tiredly. "What are you thinking?" he demanded. "Death threats to nobles in the middle of a city street? Have you gone insane?"
Ashi shrugged. "No more than usual. Death threats are great, if you can pull them off like I can."
But he still looked reluctant, so she added, "It worked, right, Republic? So no big deal. And excuse me if I don't want to sit by and get called filth by them."
Carth, despite his pre-established reluctance, was beginning to see her point. Given a chance, he might even have relented, had Ashi not suddenly started off in a new direction, completely diverted. In a nearby alleyway, she could make out three figures, one backed into a corner and the other two crowding menacingly around it. As she sidled closer, the shadowy outlines resolved themselves into three men, the cornered one middle-aged and looking extremely anxious. She paused at the mouth of the alley, just close enough to hear their conversation, as Carth hurried nervously after her.
"You've missed your last payment, old man," one of the thugs snarled, his hand resting unashamedly on his blaster. The cornered man's eyes followed it instinctively, wide with fear.
/Yeah, and Davik doesn't like you missing payments/ snapped the other, an Aqualish with a wickedly sharp vibroblade across his back. Ashi rolled her eyes—the thugs weren't actually half as scary as they seemed to think they were—but the old man might have disagreed. He looked halfway to a heart attack.
"Please! I just need a little more time!" he exclaimed, his voice reedy and tremulous next to the growls of his attackers. "I don't have that much right now! How can I give you credits I don't have?"
Carth looked torn, his hand wavering above his blaster as his face grew pained, the do-gooder soldier in him kicking in. "I know we need to keep a low profile," he muttered from the corner of his mouth, "but we're not just going to let them kill this man, are we?"
Ashi smiled, shaking her head. "Course not, Republic. I'm going to pull off a couple more death threats, is what's going to happen."
/You've had enough chances/ snarled the Aqualish. /You're coming with us./
"Yeah," grinned the human, "Davik's going to want to make an example of you."
Instantly, the old man's expression went from anxious to utterly terrified. "Help!" he called frantically, no longer making any attempt to be quiet. "Someone help! They're going to kill me!"
"And, there's my cue," Ashi murmured to Carth, striding confidently into the alley. He followed a couple yards behind, waiting uncertainly to see what she planned to do. "Hell-o, everyone," she drawled, glancing around leisurely. "What might be happening here, I wonder?"
/Hey!/ snapped one thug. /Looks like we got ourselves a witness./
"Davik doesn't like witnesses," the other added threateningly—apparently, a hand on his gun was no longer enough of a hint.
"Yeah, Davik doesn't like a lot of things, huh?" remarked Ashi conversationally, as she reached for her vibroblade. "You know what I don't like? Thugs like you, and your attitudes in particular," she snapped, the relaxed tone vanishing as her voice became instantly more hostile. "I was actually thinking I might have to teach you a lesson. Except, seeing as that probably involves killing you, it'd be kind of wasted, wouldn't it?"
The thugs glanced at each other, and then simultaneously drew their weapons. "You just made trouble for yourself with the wrong people, sweetheart," the man hissed, cocking his gun.
"You just made trouble with the wrong person, actually. Namely, me. Sucks for you," Ashi said, before lunging forward and drawing her vibroblade in one smooth motion. The human, not half as quick on the draw as he should have been, collapsed to the ground, headless; furious, the other thug reared up behind Ashi. She parried his attack and spun, her vibroblade flashing in the murky half-light. He struck at her, but she forced his blade down and danced back, glancing for holes in his defense.
Before she had a chance to find one, however, he went suddenly stiff, keeling over almost on top of her. Taking it in stride, she stepped aside to let him fall, and her eyes found Carth, his blaster still raised. "I had them, you know," she told him, and he rolled his eyes skeptically; ignoring the expression, she turned to the cowering man.
"Don't hurt me!" he shrieked.
She sighed through her nose, sliding her blade back into its sheath with a hiss of metal. "Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of saving your life? I'm not going to kill you. Though you might want to make yourself elsewhere before someone comes to investigate."
Slowly, the man began to nod, his motions speeding as he caught on. "Thank you. Thank you so much," he mumbled hurriedly, edging by her before speeding from the alley. Carth was about to say something—maybe congratulate them on a good deed, or add something about how it could be satisfying to help people too, couldn't it?—but found himself lost for word as, the next moment, Ashi bent and began to go through the pockets of the corpses. "What are you doing?" he demanded, even as it became glaringly obvious when she pulled out a purse bulging with credits.
"I'm looting the corpses. What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" she replied evenly, transferring the credits to her bag.
"That's disgusting!" Carth snapped, lowering his voice halfway through when he remembered all the Sith soldiers on patrol just a few yards away.
Ashi shrugged. "They don't mind," she replied, gesturing to the bodies. Calmly, she stood, brushing past him as she turned away. "Anyway, complain all you want. If you do, though, you don't get to use this blaster." She stopped at the corner to the street, afternoon light falling haphazardly across her hair and face, to examine the weapon she had pulled off the man. "Which would be kind of a shame. It's a really nice make—lightweight, but I figure…"
She broke off, leveling it experimentally, and pulled the trigger. Carth stiffened in frantic disbelief as a bolt went whizzing past him, but it struck a crumbling wall at the alley's end, leaving nothing but a small scorch mark. "Good firepower," she continued calmly. "Echani, maybe."
Suddenly, with a flick of her wrist, she tossed it over to him. He reacted on instinct, and snatched it out of midair, wrapping his hand around the handle. With a grin, Ashi continued, "You can keep that. Or you can give it back to the corpse. Your choice." She turned, vanishing around the corner and into the streets.
Carth paused, and then grudgingly pocketed the blaster, before hurrying after her. With confidence that seemed ridiculously assured, for being in a completely new city, she found her way quickly to the shopping district, shortly before informing him that he could not go to the party in Republic uniform—to quote her, on a remark that had stung, 'did he actually have a death wish, or was he really just that sentimental about the jacket?' She had layered her voice so thickly with skepticism that a deaf Rodian could have picked up on it, clearly insinuating it was not something worth being attached to. Grudgingly, he replied that he would wear whatever he wanted, and she could pick her own clothes if it mattered so much.
Very soon, he would regret saying that.
Ashi looked incredibly pleased with herself as they made their way back through the darkening city—presumably a bad sign—and he found out why when they got back. She ducked into the fresher to change, reemerging after a few minutes. "What do you think?" she asked, doing an experimental spin.
Carth stared, openmouthed. The dress might as well have been spray-painted on, and for a moment, he was stuck trying to remember how to speak. In the absence of a reply, she said lightly, "All right, I'll assume you choking on your own tongue means, 'it's good'."
Carth snapped back to reality, his own sarcasm returning instantly. "Oh, very nice," he replied acerbically. "Yun won't even have to use his imagination."
She shot him an exasperated glare. "Well, at least it's not neon orange. Look, if you're going to be a killjoy, flyboy, don't come."
He frowned, but, unable to argue, settled for shaking his head fervently. "And let you go into a Sith party, alone, dressed like that? No way, sister. You're stuck with me."
"The I-can-take-care-of-myself vibe isn't working, huh?" Ashi asked, rolling her eyes. "Fine, you can come. But it's a party, Republic. Lighten up!" She shook her head in slight amusement and headed for the door, beckoning him to follow with a jerk of her head.
"Come on, let's go. Wouldn't want to keep my date waiting," she added, earning a scowl from Carth as he skulked out of the apartment.
When they arrived, the party was in full swing. Yun opened the door with a glass of ale in his hand, grinning at her in a way that suggested he was already fairly drunk. "Wow," he said, staring unashamedly at her. "You look amazing." Somehow, he missed Carth's filthy look.
Ashi nodded, grinning at him. "Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself," she replied, lies flowing as easily as the drinks must be.
He took her hand, beckoning them in. As his back was turned, Ashi mouthed, 'smashed'. Carth snickered, covering it with a cough.
"Do you want to dance?" Yun asked, smiling in a way he apparently thought was winning. Ashi nodded with convincing enthusiasm, and they moved onto the dance floor. She stepped tactfully around Yun's shoes as they nearly missed her toes; he didn't seem light on his feet to begin with, and the Tarisian ale on his breath wasn't helping as much as he seemed to have hoped.
Carth stared after them for a moment, gritting his teeth, before taking a deep breath and putting on a grin. Ashi was right: it was a party, and if they wanted to find out anything they would have to be friendly.
He ended up talking to some junior officer called Sarna, who was Yun's sister, or maybe cousin—just because he was listening, didn't mean he was listening closely. She was equally ready to gripe about her job, but Carth listened with as much sympathy as he could muster, soaking up information about the Sith on Taris. This was the good news; the bad was that someone kept filling up the drinks, and Tarisian ale, vicious as it might be—more like drinking lighter fluid than anything else—was damn hard to stop drinking.
It was a few hours into the party when it began to die, as people alternately left or passed out. Carth slumped onto a couch, his head buzzing slightly, he felt a sudden presence beside him. The dress told him it was Ashi before she even spoke, and—nothing but the ale, he maintained fiercely—he found his gaze slow and very reluctant to shift to her face.
Fortunately, she didn't seem to notice. Biting her lip, she glanced around hurriedly, and then, seeming satisfied, dropped down next to him with a sigh. "Damn, flyboy. You were right."
He rolled his eyes, grinning. "I know," he said, his voice as clear as it had to be. "What was this about in particular?"
"Yun," she informed him, rolling her eyes with disgust. "He's useless for information, and…" She paused to consider the phrasing, before continuing, "Well, subtlety's obviously not a defining trait of his."
Instinct triumphed over liquor, and Carth looked furiously protective at the words, which reminded her of the cantina. "I think he has the same high opinion of me as you," she added, and caught his look of slight guilt with a note of satisfaction.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the Sith officer again, supporting himself on a wall and looking around the room curiously. "Damn," she muttered, as his eyes lit onto her. She didn't like her options at the moment, but then, glancing at Carth, a sudden, hopeful—and probably very, very bad—idea occurred to her. Turning to the pilot, she whispered urgently, "Hey, help me out, okay?"
"What?" Carth was about to ask, but as Yun called, "Ashi?" in a decidedly slurred voice, she shifted closer to Carth and pressed her lips against his, hoping it might help Yun lose interest.
Maybe she'd hoped he wouldn't respond, or that it would be with resignation rather than eagerness if he did. Neither was the case. As soon as Carth got over the initial shock, but before he could remember what he was doing, he reacted, bringing a hand up to cup her face. His head was buzzing—not from the drink any more—as he leant into the kiss, not thinking straight and certainly not feeling guilty for it. But here, here came the part he wouldn't forget: she could have shoved him off, disgusted with the alcohol on his breath and his actions, and she didn't. Her hands grasped at the collar of his jacket, keeping him from pulling away, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, returning the favor without any regrets whatsoever. It could have been for Yun, but surely she didn't have to lean in closer, kiss him harder. That sure as hell, Carth decided, didn't feel like acting.
Ashi, meanwhile, was experiencing the same surprise as Carth. To her surprise, she found herself enjoying it a lot more than she should have. He tasted like the ale that had been floating around, and she could see he'd been drinking, but so much the better right now—she doubted it would have looked half as good if he'd been totally sober, and she wasn't complaining about any of this at the moment.
Thankfully, before she could consider that too deeply, a hand yanked her shoulder, and she found herself face to face with a very angry-looking Sith. "What the hell?" demanded Yun thickly, his hand digging into her shoulder. "Oh, sure, just a friend." He gestured angrily at a Carth who, rather unhelpfully, seemed stunned into uselessness.
Ashi was slightly nervous; not scared of Yun, but of what he might do out of drunken anger. However, she wasn't a smuggler for nothing, and lying under stress happened to be one of her areas of expertise. "Yun?" she gasped, feigning shock. "It's… I mean, it's not what it looks like…"
"Save it, you schutta," he mumbled furiously, shoving her forcefully back into the sofa. He stormed off, and they heard the front door hiss open and closed.
Ashi sighed in relief, slumping back against the couch, as Carth seemed to come to with a sudden jerk. "Thanks, flyboy. I owe you one," she nodded, before glancing around and muttering more quietly, "The party's dying, I'm going to go look for something to get us into the Lower City." She got quickly to her feet, making her way into one of the other rooms.
For one, final, blissful moment, Carth was dumbstruck, and then guilt began to rush into him. It shouldn't feel like cheating if my wife's dead, he thought to himself, but quickly shook the thoughts off and heaved himself dizzily to his feet. It was... it was helping a comrade. That was all. Besides, he added wryly, as far as I know, stubborn and reckless isn't my type.
Even as he thought it, though, the ale seemed to have rendered him more candid than usual, because it occurred to him how, fifteen or twenty years ago, he might have described Morgana that way.
Meanwhile, Ashi dug through a bag, looking for uniforms. That was a damn good kiss, she thought unexpectedly, but then mentally slapped herself. Besides the fact Carth was almost ten years older, he was also Republic. That affiliation might as well be one and the same with 'off-limits'. He did get credit for helping her out, though—not, she reminded herself quickly, that you're ever going to do anything like that again…
But the next second, all thoughts of that flew out of her mind as she seized on two pairs of silver armor. Instantly she grabbed the uniforms, holding it quickly to her chest to double-check the size. It looked about right, and the other seemed bigger—Carth would just have to make do. "Come on, flyboy," she called quietly. "Let's go."
As they headed back out of the building and onto the street, Ashi sighed. "Hey, uh… sorry about… uh…" To her horror, she found herself blushing. It was ridiculous—she had nothing to be embarrassed about. "I wanted to get Yun off my back," she explained quickly, "and that seemed like a good way to do it. Then."
He shook his head, grinning. "Sure—it seemed like a good idea at the time." But then he paused, and added, "Really, s'okay." He could see her logic, and it was only helping a fellow soldier. Comrade, he corrected himself. Not soldier. "But warn me next time you pull something like that, okay?" He smiled, and then threw in, "I was right about Yun, though."
She rolled her eyes, shoving him lightly—it sent him reeling for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "Yeah, fine. You were right. And I'm never going to tell you that again, for the record, if you keep gloating."
A grin, however, contradicted her tone. "And we're headed to the Lower City tomorrow?" she continued.
"One step closer to Bastila," he nodded, his military instinct kicking in.
She snorted. "That's you, Republic, saving the galaxy one useless Jedi at a time."
He glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "What is it you have against Bastila, anyway?"
At that, Ashi turned to stare at him, incredulity in every inch of her face. "You're kidding, right?" she wondered, but Carth shook his head. "Well, it's not that she's a bad person. She's actually incredibly easy to get along with. Just don't be in the same room as her," Ashi said with a small laugh.
"You've met her?" he asked in surprise.
Ashi nodded, but then frowned suddenly, her brow wrinkling. "Yeah… no, wait." For a moment she hesitated, before murmuring, "This sounds weird: I know I have, but I can't remember when, or how." She paused, combing her mind, but a vague memory she had of obnoxious, stodgy Bastila seemed to flutter out of reach.
"Probably because you hit your head in the crash," suggested Carth. "Never mind." They walked back in companionable silence, but the mysterious memory bothered Ashi all the way back.
At the apartment, they collapsed into bed. Carth was asleep before his head hit the pillow, which Ashi found increasingly irritating as sleep eluded her; she quickly decided to blame at least part of her insomnia on his snoring. In the end, she lay awake for a long time, running over the day again and again, always getting stuck, to her annoyance, at the kiss. Finally, she fell into a restless sleep, where she dreamed of running, being chased by someone she couldn't see.
The smell of caffa and the daylight sprawling through the grimy windows woke her up that morning; rolling out of bed, she sat up and stretched lazily. Today they would be heading down to the Lower City, and she would need her energy. She showered quickly and dressed, before stumbling into the kitchen, grabbing a mug of caffa and slumping in a chair.
Carth was already awake, of course. Typical Republic officer: slightly hung over, even, and yet he'd probably never even heard of sleeping in. "Morning, flyboy," she mumbled.
He glanced over her, a slow smile working its way across his face. "Not a morning person?" he asked innocently—not that he wasn't grinning through a headache, but he felt the need to laugh about something, especially after the previous night.
She muttered something under her breath that Carth probably didn't want to hear anyway, and then added something about caffeine. He ignored her until she had almost finished the entire mug, when she brushed her hair out of her face and shook her head to clear it. "Better?" he asked with a grin.
"Shut up, Republic," she snapped without much conviction; anyway, it was counterbalanced by her grin. "I just needed caffeine. I'm fine now."
"Good," he said, nodding briskly, "because we're heading down into the Lower City today. It's pretty nasty down there."
She nodded in a distracted sort of way. "But it's only early morning; we have all day…" She looked like she had something else to say, and after a moment she wondered aloud, "Since I doubt the sane part of the planet is awake yet, is now a good time for more questions?"
Truth to be told, Carth didn't want to fight with Ashi, not with the consequences it seemed to have. He shrugged evenly. "Sure," he replied. "I'm all ears, beautiful."
If Ashi had been half-asleep before, she was completely awake now. "I like the sound of that," she said with a playful smile, draining her mug.
Carth raised his eyebrows. "What? That I'm all ears, or the beautiful part?"
"The beautiful part." Ashi smirked. "Keep calling me that."
"Hmm." He pretended to consider it. "What are you going to call me in return?"
"Are you kidding? I have Republic and flyboy. You don't need a third name."
Carth shrugged. "I was under the impression at least one of those was an insult, coming from you," he pointed out.
Ashi laughed out loud. "So now I'm an anarchist, too?" To his relief, she didn't seem offended, although she replied, "True though it may be, that's enough. I can always call you an idiot too."
Carth suspected she might not necessarily be joking, and backtracked quickly. "No need, really. Why don't you stick with the insults you have." He smiled, but it faded quickly. "Fun as this all is, though, I bet you haven't forgotten those questions. Are they really necessary?"
Ashi frowned suspiciously. "Is this going to involve more yelling?"
"No, don't worry. Go ahead and interrogate me."
She rolled her eyes. "I don't think this counts as an interrogation unless I have a blaster pointed at your head. I can do that, though, if you want."
He raised his eyebrows, not sure it was completely a joke. "No thanks—I don't think I trust you with a gun pointed at my head. You're a little too impulsive for that."
"Impulsiveness is a key quality for smugglers," Ashi replied proudly. "You need to be able to adlib a little when you get in trouble."
"Adlibbing. Right, like when you kissed me at the party," Carth smirked.
Ashi stopped, her mouth half-open. Whatever she had expected him to say, that wasn't it. Carth suddenly bringing it up threw her off. And, she reminded herself, if things threw her off, it usually meant she shouldn't think about them. "This all started because you can't deal with some fracking questions," she grumbled, crossing her arms.
He grinned, wondering with slight puzzlement why him bringing that up would bother her. "Sorry, I'm just joking. You are full of questions, though; it's kind of refreshing."
The words were out before he considered them, and almost too honest for his taste. It was refreshing: everyone else either was intimidated by him, or had known him long enough to know not to ask him. Neither seemed to make any kind of difference to Ashi: she couldn't care less about military rank, and certainly wasn't interested in tact when it restricted her curiosity.
Then, as he remembered his questions for her, he became abruptly serious. "Can I ask you something first though?" She nodded reluctantly—I already told you my life story—and settled back in her chair. "I've been going through the Battle on the Endar Spire over and over again in my head, since we crashed," Carth said slowly, "and some things just don't add up for me. Maybe you could tell me what happened, from your perspective."
She shrugged. "Well, Trask woke me up, freaking out about Sith attacks and telling me to 'get to the bridge, defend the Jedi!' I didn't want to, but he was about as persistent as you are on that one," she grinned, "so we headed for the bridge. Figures, of course, she wasn't there, and Trask decides on plan B, which happens to be my plan A: get the hell out of there. We were on the way to the escape pods but…"
She suddenly broke off, surprising them both with the need for a deep, wavering breath. "This Dark Jedi showed up and Trask pulled a hero and sacrificed himself for me. I guess he killed him, then he came after me, so I ran away, and then you told me to meet you at the escape pods, so I did." Ashi took a deep breath, and then shrugged and sighed. "That's it, I think. I didn't really get what was happening at the time, you know?"
Carth nodded slowly. "Neither did I, to tell the truth. I was only on board as an adviser, really." He paused, and when he resumed speaking, his voice was ice cold. "But we lost the ship and a lot of good people, and for what? We were all hoping too much that the Jedi would save us, although I guess Bastila just didn't have time. After all, the battle was forced on us pretty suddenly. I'm just as surprised any of us survived."
Again he stopped, and, frowning, looked curiously at Ashi. It was a harsh, mistrustful look and Ashi glared back at him for it.
"Come to think of it, he said slowly, "it's more than a little surprising that you happen to be here, isn't it?"
"Excuse me?" she demanded, realizing his irrational suspicion was finally coming around to bite her. "You'd rather I wasn't?"
He shook his head quickly. "No, that's not what I mean. You've already been helpful and I'm glad to have you here."
She nodded in relief, but it was short-lived as he added, "It just seems a little… convenient, is all, that a last-minute crew addition is one of the survivors."
Ashi almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. How could he possibly accuse her of that—how could he possibly be that tactless? "Oh, I see. Because they added me late, I obviously must be a Sith spy. Impeccable logic, Republic," she snapped, "especially since I already explained why I'm not a goddamn solider! I guess you're going to tell me next that I had something to do with the crash!" she continued, her voice rising. "You think I did that? You think just because you think I'm a criminal, I must be a Sith too?"
To her fury, he wouldn't even look at her, glancing instead at the door to make sure no one heard her yelling. "No! Well… maybe, I don't know!" he replied. "All I'm saying is that it seemed odd someone Bastila's party specifically requested survived."
Ashi stopped in surprise. "I don't know anything about that!"
"The Jedi requested numerous things when they came on board—hell, they practically took over the ship as far as I could tell." He sighed, trying to calm himself and Ashi down. "Look, I'm probably wrong and this is probably nothing, I know. But I just learned a long time ago not to take things at face value. I hate surprises."
She glared at him, slamming down her mug of caffa and standing up. They made an odd scene: the suspicious Republic soldier and the furious smuggler, staring each other down across the kitchen table. "Well, you better get the hell over it, flyboy, because I'm going to be full of them. You obviously have trust issues, but there's no reason to take them out on me!"
"It has nothing to do with you personally," Carth replied in a monotone. "I just don't trust easily, and I have reasons, which are my own, so no, I'm not going to discuss them. Can we keep our mind on more important things?"
Ashi's eyebrows flew up, and she gritted her teeth. "I consider this important! I don't expect you to share all your fracking secrets with me, but I do care whether or not you think I'm a goddamned Sith spy! I was under the impression you weren't a complete son of a schutta," she continued, heading for the kitchen door, "so great job proving me wrong, Republic."
She was in the main room now, snatching up her bag and vibroblade as she went. "Oh," she added over her shoulder, snatching up her new silver armor, "and believe me, when I say that right now, that's an insult."
She would have liked to leave it there—quitting while she was ahead, and all—but Carth came running out of the kitchen, looking furious. "Where the hell are you going?"
"Why the hell should I tell you?" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. "The Lower City, since you asked so nicely, and if I don't come back you can assume that I'm either dead or in jail. You can rest easy either way."
Ashi turned and walked out the door, not bothering to look back. If he had any brains at all inside that military head of his, he wouldn't follow.
Clad in the Sith uniform, she made it easily past the elevator guard. "Heading to the Lower City?" he asked, and she nodded brusquely. "Be careful down there," he warned. "There's a bunch of punks from the swoop gangs that are looking for trouble."
"Thanks for the warning," said Ashi, mimicking a Sith voice, and he stood aside, letting her pass. The elevator ride was a couple minutes long and stuffy, and by the time it was over she was getting incredibly sick of the stifling uniform. She finally gave up and pulled off the helmet, shaking out her hair as she stuffed it in her bag.
A moment later, a grating screech of gears told her she had arrived. She stepped out, eyeing her surroundings leisurely. It looked like all permacrete, and there was rubble and graffiti everywhere. As she watched, a small, rodent-like creature emerged from under a pile of garbage and scampered away into the refuse. Ashi shook her head; this place really was a dump.
Turning the corner, however, she found her first real proof of life—she wasn't counting the rat—and immediately ducked back under cover when the first thing to catch her eye was a lot of weaponry, glinting in the feeble florescent light. "Vulkars are the strongest!" crowed one figure. "You Beks are nothing but weak fools, still worshipping a crippled old man as your leader."
/And you Vulkars are nothing but backstabbing traitors/ snapped a Rodian, grabbing his blaster. /We'll show you who's strongest!/
The Vulkar—whatever that meant—lunged, and stabbed the Bek in the stomach with his stun baton. The unfortunate Rodian cried out and the collapsed to the ground. The smug-looking Vulkar then helped his friend double-team a Bek, and they cut him down quickly. While they fought, the third Vulkar was dueling with a human Bek. He overpowered him, and then ran his blade through the man's chest. It seemed, she thought dryly, that Vulkars were the strongest. The Bek fell to the ground, blood staining the street in a nasty red mark. With a jolt, Ashi realized there were many such marks, one directly under her feet.
It was then, just as she swallowed her growing disgust, the apparent lead Vulkar caught sight of her. "Sith aren't welcome here!" he growled, brandishing a stun baton.
Ashi's eyes narrowed dangerously, anger lighting in them like matches. "I'm not a fracking Sith," she declared. "Want to come over here and say that, street scum?"
"Wearing a Sith uniform, but saying you're no Sith? Right," snapped a Vulkar. "How stupid do you think we are?"
This time, to their surprise, Ashi grinned. "About as stupid as you look. Stupider if you think you can take me." She watched in pleasure as the Vulkars swelled with outrage. They obviously weren't used to people having fun at their expense in the middle of their threats.
"That's it!" roared the Vulkar, firing up his stun baton. "You asked for this one, sithspawn!" He rushed her, and she sidestepped, before spinning and kicking him in the jaw. He reeled, stunned, and she followed up with a flurry of slashes from her vibroblade, sending him collapsing to the permacrete.
She turned, and grinned cockily at the other two.
"Who's next?" she challenged, beckoning them forward and shifting into an offensive stance. They both snarled and one lunged for her, the other hanging back with a blaster. He was strong, and landed a solid hit on her left arm as she dodged blaster bolts. She hissed in pain, but then ducked suddenly.
The Vulkar was taken by surprise, as the energy bolts she'd just avoided hit him in the chest. He staggered and fell to the ground, and Ashi darted to the blasting one, who looked horrified but pulled out a stun baton. She quickly knocked it out of his hand, however—it was obvious he wasn't a melee fighter—and kicked it several feet away, before swinging him against the graffiti-coated wall, holding her blade to his throat.
"One, you little son of a schutta," she snapped, "I'm not Sith. Two, maybe you punks ought to think twice, or at all, before messing with me. Spread the word. Got it?"
He nodded, and she smiled. "Good," she said, jerking her blade away. "Might want to run, in case I change my mind about letting you go."
He didn't need to hear it twice, and was running almost before she'd finished. Satisfied, she left the bodies, and continued on her way. The cantina, she decided, was the best place to be, and set about finding it.
She did, too, quickly. It was much like the Upper City one, albeit seedier, like the sudden, barely noticeable shift from twilight to darkness. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of spice rather than cigarras, but there were the same sleazy type of people, the same smell of alcohol and raucous laughter from those who'd had too much of it. Ashi inhaled and grinned: this felt like home.
She hung out with the card sharks for a while, winning only somewhat more than she lost but learning a couple new faces; a few minutes later, she carefully managed to deter a man who introduced himself as Holden and seemed torn over whether to drool over her or the Twi'leki dancers. Then, rounding a corner, she almost ran into a smart-mouthed blue Twi'lek and a Wookiee fending off punks in a gang. Ashi was tempted to step in at first, but in less than five seconds, the girl had proven she was more than capable herself. As Ashi watched the thugs make themselves scarce, the Twi'lek turned and caught sight of her.
"Hi!" she chirped brightly, her face reversing instantly into a smile. "I don't know your face, and I know about everyone here, so I guess you must be new, right? Guess that makes us your official welcoming committee! I'm Mission, and the Wookiee's Big Z, my best friend."
Ashi felt herself grinning; the girl's attitude was infectious. "Good to meet you, Mission. I'm Ashi Lucas."
"I've never heard of you," said Mission bluntly. "You really are new, aren't you?"
She smiled. "Heard of the Mysterious Stranger?"
Mission's mouth dropped open. "You won the dueling competition? Oh, that's so cool! But… your face is normal and everything." She paused a moment, scrutinizing Ashi for hideous scars, and then continued, "So, yeah, welcome to Lower City. It's not that nice or anything," she added as she glanced around, "but I do know pretty much everything there is to know about it."
"It's cool for me," said Ashi comfortably. "It feels like home. I was a smuggler, I've been in places a lot worse than this."
"A smuggler?" Mission gasped, her eyes widening. "No way! That's so awesome! What do you mean, was? What did you smuggle? Where'd you go? Did you have, like, a super-fast ship? Are you wanted, for being a smuggler? Omigod, was that why you wore the mask for dueling? Nice. That was smart. But how come you're here?" Then sympathy spread over her face. "Are you caught in the quarantine?"
Ashi beckoned them over to a table, happy despite herself to have met someone who didn't seem to think smuggling was a waste of time or a scourge on humanity. She found herself describing her entire past as a smuggler to the girl, right up to getting signed on with the Republic. Mission, in return, ended up telling Ashi everything she knew about the Lower City. This, rather impressively, took so long that in the end Ashi offered to buy them lunch. They ate and chatted, while Zaalbar, the Wookiee, sat by watching. He seemed out of his comfort zone, and though Ashi glanced at him a couple times, he didn't say a word.
Finally, Ashi noticed, with a jolt, that Carth was entering the cantina. She held out a hand, and Mission stopped mid-sentence, eyes questioning. "Hey, Mission," said Ashi deliberately, "I need you to do me a favor."
Mission, who was more perceptive than people were willing to give her credit for, had already followed Ashi's sideways glance at Carth. "Whoa, Mr. Colorblind in the orange jacket?"
Ashi snorted with laughter. Zaalbar, who was colorblind himself, didn't get it.
Mission's eyes were still on Carth. "Who's that, your boyfriend?"
Ashi almost laughed again, but instead shook her head fervently, and Mission misinterpreted. "An ex? He stalking you or something? 'Cause that's creepy."
This time Ashi did laugh as she replied, "Yeah, he is following me, but that's not the point. He's not my ex. He's kind of a friend, who's being a jerk right now."
"Ah, you want me to help you avoid him?"
Ashi nodded approvingly, grinning. "I like you, kid; you catch on fast."
Immediately, Mission bristled. "Hey! I'm no kid! Then she caught Ashi's laughter and joined in, cracking a smile. "Yeah, all right. What should I do?"
She shrugged. "Just throw him off my trail a little, yeah? I kind of told him that if I didn't come back, then I was either dead or arrested," she added with a smirk, "so he probably suspects the worst."
Mission cracked up, especially when she glanced over again and took in the worried expression on the man's face. "I can tell him you got arrested, if you like."
Ashi grinned, but shook her head reluctantly. "Knowing him, he'd go to the jail and sulk until he finally figured out I wasn't there. Just sort of point him in the wrong direction. Be as unhelpful as you like."
Mission beamed. "Unhelpful… I can do that."
Ashi smiled gratefully and gave the Twi'lek a quick hug. "I have a feeling I'll see you again soon, kid. Later." She hurried across the room, turning halfway and mouthing 'have fun'. Mission flipped her the thumbs-up. Moments later, Carth began to head her way, and Mission prepared to launch into her full hyperactive greeting.
Ashi, deciding this was a show worth seeing, sat down to watch out of sight, but the moment she turned back to watch, she noticed sniffling from behind her. Curious, she turned to see a young Twi'lek dancer with flamboyant orange and peach coloring, sitting at a table on her own. A drink sat by her, but she hadn't touched it. Ashi immediately stood up again, slipping instead into the seat next to her.
"Hi, I'm Ashi," she said, grinning. "What's wrong?"
The dancer looked up in surprise, wiping immediately at her eyes. "What? Oh, um, Lyn. And it's nothing."
Ashi raised her eyebrows. "You're crying; it's something."
"Nothing you can help me with," Lyn persisted, looking surprised someone was even trying to talk to her. Sighing when Ashi refused to simply leave, she admitted, "I'm supposed to be having a dance audition, but my partner just quit on me. And this is really important, a major producer's here, and this might be my one shot at the big time."
"Why would your partner quit?" asked Ashi, frowning.
Lyn snorted. "She can't take a little honesty. I just told her that she couldn't get anything right, and she was dancing with all the grace of a bantha. She didn't have freak out at me and leave," she added resentfully, scowling.
"Yeah, that may not have been the best moment for blunt honesty," said Ashi, earning a glare from the dancer. She couldn't help a feeling of slight surprise; the girl didn't seem that awful. Maybe she had been humbled by now. "You want me to help you?" she asked suddenly, and Lyn frowned.
"Help me?" she echoed, looking confused. "What do you mean?"
"With your audition, genius. What did you think?"
The Twi'lek frowned, biting her lip as she looked at Ashi. "Look, no offense, but this is a big deal. I don't really want to try it with a random person who offered out of the blue."
Ashi grinned persuasively, eyes lighting up. "Actually, I'm a very good dancer. I think I could help you out, if you like."
Lyn stared intently at her for a moment, and then slowly, her mouth turned up in a smile. "Okay," she said, "but we have to hurry. My audition is in fifteen minutes, and you cannot dance in that," she declared, looking at Ashi's beloved jacket with distaste.
Ashi felt a small hint of regret, and began to object, but Lyn cut her off. "Come on!" she instructed, and, seizing Ashi's wrist, dragged her towards one of the backstage rooms.
Fifteen minutes later, by which time Ashi was feeling fairly confident—if hoping everyone she knew had left—Lyn led her over to the producer. "Mr. Bib," she said tentatively, when the green Twi'lek glanced suspiciously down at her, "I'm Lyn. I have my partner, and I'm ready to dance."
Bib frowned. /A human?/ he asked in his native tongue. /Lyn, are you sure?/
Lyn smiled brilliantly. "Oh, I'm sure."
Bib turned to Ashi, not quite managing to clear his face of skepticism. "Human, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to take off the cloak," he said, in heavily accented Basic. "You can't dance in that."
/I know/ sighed Ashi, taking pleasure in watching him jump as she spoke fluently in Twi'leki. /But no holding me responsible for all the drool on your floors./ She slipped the heavy fabric off and over her head, letting it pile on the ground before kicking it out of the way. The Twi'lek stared in obvious surprise. The dancer's outfit, thanks to Ashi's loud and deliberate protests, covered slightly more than most of the Twi'leks', but was still certainly less than a flight jacket and leggings. Lyn, obviously proud of herself, grinned smugly, and Ashi rolled her eyes as she glanced around: already, several of the men in the room were staring, identical, widening smiles on all their faces.
Ashi shook her head, and turned to the two Twi'leks. "Whenever you're ready, Lyn."
A cliffhanger... idk. Sort of. Reviews are great, so if you feel like writing one (it's not actually difficult. like, at all...) But anyway, here's a quote from the next chapter, just for added suspense:
Carth: No, I don't think she's drunk. I think she's insane.
