And Never Return Chapter 11, a star wars fanfic

AND NEVER RETURN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The majority of Eqiirsa boasted a warm, tropic climate similar to Ithor. In contrast, its poles were the complete opposite, with frigid air and moisture only in the form of sleet and snow. Even after five chilly years of residency, Daryn Amet was not completely accustomed to the nights.

It could be worse, he comforted himself. The meeting could've been outside. Instead, he was seated at a small shadowed table near the door of one of the area's drinking establishments, the Triple Moon. Konner had arranged another meeting with the Shrigan woman, and although he claimed to trust the lady, he had no reason to push his luck—hence, Daryn's presence. Should anything look "off" to him, he'd give Konner a double tap on the comlink, and they would both exit. Just like when Daryn would have his blaster in his lap, keeping an eye on a Rebel informant who may or may not be a counter-intelligence agent…ah, the good ol' days.

Daryn downed the rest of his drink in one gulp and glanced towards the mismatched pair sitting at a corner table. He couldn't see much of the Shrigan woman since she had her back to him, but he could see Konner's impassive expression as he spoke quietly with her. His own drink was untouched and the only sign of tension in the former Imperial agent was the way his right hand always stayed within easy access of his blaster.

Unfortunately, though, the Triple Moon had weapons detectors, and the Resistance had not found a way past that, so the partners were unarmed, as well as the informant. Daryn allowed his mind to wander, unable to do much more as he casually watched the duo as well as the rest of the cantina. What was she doing here? Why would she turn traitor?

The Telos native wasn't complaining—if a Shrigan was willing to help him and the rest of the group out, he was glad. But he at least liked to know the motive behind it all. He and Konner had formed the Resistance so they could escape. The other humans and aliens who made up the group joined so that they, too, could leave. The same with Mara Jade and that Rebel. But he didn't know why this woman would help them.

What if this was some ploy, some trap set by the Shrigan Security Agency?

Maybe he was reading a little too much into all this. If the woman wanted to help, why should he interrogate her?

Why had she cancelled their earlier meeting? Had she changed her mind about the Resistance? What was it that she and Konner were discussing now?

Konner glanced past the woman, directly meeting Daryn's eyes, before letting his gaze continue around the room. A slight nod stated that the meeting was over and to head out to the speeder. Daryn stretched, acknowledging the order, and then dropped a few circular credits on the table to pay for his drink, and left.

Daryn waited out in the speeder for nearly ten minutes and was getting ready to go back in to make sure nothing had happened to his friend when Konner walked out.

"Damn, Kon, I though the Shrigan had finally caught you, you took so long," he said, grinning as Konner pulled his door shut.

Konner was silent for a moment, and then seemed to realize Daryn had spoken. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I thought the Shrigan finally caught you."

"Not in your life, Amet."

Daryn glanced over at his friend's vehement response, but brushed it off when he saw Konner staring out the window. It must have been a difficult meeting.

Towards the end of the usual dinner hour, Mara wandered into the dining room. There were only a few people in there, most of them sitting in a loose group on the opposite side of the room. Mara stifled a laugh when she saw Skywalker sitting alone at a table—for one brief moment, she was strongly reminded of a young boy sitting alone in the cafeteria at school. It took less than a minute to grab some of the synthesized food, and she slid into the seat across from her friend.

"How long have you been in here?" she asked, eyeing his full plate.

"Only a few minutes."

"And is that your second helping or third?"

"For your information," he said, trying to mimic the haughty nasal tone of a Kuati noble, "it is still my first."

"Really?" she asked, hiding a smile. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, of course," he replied. "Why would you think otherwise?"

Mara raised an eyebrow at his quick defensive remark. "It was a joke, Skywalker. Surely you had those on Tatooine?"

"Occasionally. More often than rainfall." Luke easily fell into their old routine.

"Oh, good. So that's why your sense of humor is so sporadic and dry."

The Jedi Master let out a laugh. "My sense of humor is sporadic and dry? I never even saw you laugh until we'd known each other for almost a year. Even still, your jokes usually have something to do with us dying, or at least involving bodily injury to someone, namely me."

"Don't blame me if you don't share my humor. It just shows that you lacked my more colorful upbringing."

"Checkered, you mean."

"Well, that too." Mara couldn't hide her smile any longer. "But it adds flavor, you know?"

"Couldn't imagine you without it."

"Thanks." Mara speared a piece of unidentifiable meat. "I have a question for you."

Her tone changed from playful to businesslike, and Luke knew what her query would be. Sith, and we were just beginning to have fun. "Shoot," he said, warily.

"What in all seven levels of hell are you doing here?" she asked, staring into his eyes.

He grabbed his glass of water, disguising his unease. "Well, I was worried about you," he said simply.

"You were worried about me."

"I saw a…a vision of you when the Fire was attacked. I—I can't really explain it, I just felt that I had to come find you." Here it comes…

"So you jumped on a ship and raced blindly after me because you didn't think I could take care of myself?" She snorted, a very un-lady-like sound. "You and your hero complex."

At least she didn't realize the actual reason behind his actions. Though it might be interesting to see what she would say. It was apparent to him that she had already gone through this conversation in her head, and she guessed what he would say. So far he had followed her roadmap.

"I know you can take care of yourself, Mara." He realized he was nearly shouting, and lowered his voice, studiously ignoring the other table that had glanced over at the quarreling duo. Blast if this woman couldn't drive him insane. "You're always the one who saves my ass, as you've reminded me repeatedly."

"So then why did you come?" she hissed.

"Aren't I allowed to help my best friend, damn it?" he asked. "Like it or not, I try to protect those I care about."

The Trader was quiet for a moment. She wasn't quite sure how to answer, and Luke wondered whether he'd given too much away. "I guess I should be grateful someone cares when I disappear."

"Talon called me when the Fire didn't show up. I'm not the only one who cares about you, Mara." He suddenly didn't want to continue the conversation. He stood up and tossed his empty plate into the trash receptacle. "I'm heading back to my room. Good night, Mara."

"Oh. Okay." She didn't look up at him.

The redhead finished the rest of her meal quickly, and with nothing better to do, she decided to give herself a tour of the building. Experience had taught her that it was best to know her surroundings, and contemplate emotions later.

If ever.

Daryn was walking down one of the bland hallways to his quarters when he was grabbed by the front of his shirt and yanked into a darkened room. Before he could retaliate, he was shoved against the wall and soft lips descended on his. With one hand, he slapped the controls to close the door while his other hand slid behind her neck to pull her closer.

When they broke for air, Daryn managed to ask, "What about your roommate?"

Kalika smiled in the darkness. "She was eating with the Jedi. They seemed to be in deep discussion, so I figured this was the perfect time to talk."

"…To talk?"

"Yes, Daryn. Talk. Have a conversation." She playfully pushed him away. "You men have only one thing on your mind."

"Well, when you start the conversation the way you do, it's no wonder I was distracted." Even though he wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms again, he sat in the single chair inside the room and took a deep breath. "What do you want to talk about?"

Kalika perched lightly on the armrest. Neither bothered to activate the glowlamps—the extra light wasn't necessary, with the triple moons shining through the single window. "You saw the Shrigan woman again?"

"Not really. I mean, Konner talked to her. I just stood watch. Why?"

"I was just curious. You rarely disappear during the dinner hour." He could hear her smile.

"Well, it's not like Konner gave me a choice."

"Of course not."

Daryn frowned. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that it seems that you always do just what Mr. Donteril orders you to."

"I do. He's the boss."

"I thought you were partners."

"He has more experience with this kind of stuff."

"And yet the only reason he even reached his twentieth birthday was because of you."

"It's just the way it's always been, Kalika. Even when we were paired together for Intel missions, he was always the brains, and I did the legwork." Kalika was one of the few in Qantul who knew what Konner and Daryn's earlier profession had been.

"You're oversimplifying your position," Kalika told him, placing a hand on his shoulder, relishing just that small contact. "Konner wouldn't be able to successfully plan the most simple of infiltrations without your input."

"You'd be surprised. Konner can blend in nearly anywhere, with or without me."

"Except here."

"That's different. Here, we're the minority, and we're carefully watched. No human could get past their Security without inside help. We've tried."

"Which is what the Shrigan woman is doing."

"Yes." He frowned. Where was Kalika trying to go with this? He vocalized his question.

"I'm not sure," she answered, "but something is just wrong."

"I think you're reading too much into this. Look, Kalika, if it weren't for that woman, we'd be no further along than we were five years ago."

"I'm very well aware of that, Daryn!" she snapped, her fur bristling. "You're not listening to me. I understand that she's important and all that rot, but I want to know why she's doing it."

"I don't know. She probably just doesn't agree with her government's laws."

"I've studied the Shrigan culture for seven years now," she said, looking towards the window. "Their government is the most important structure in their lives. No one would so willingly betray it, especially not this way.

"As far as I can tell, the Shrigan had been dragged into a war within the Republic at least two, three, four hundred years ago, probably more. From the few records Triller's found for me, I've found similarities in their accounts and those from the Mandalorian Wars, or maybe the Sith War around that era."

"The Mandalorians--! Sith, that was at least four thousand years ago! You're saying they're still licking their wounds from millennia ago?"

"I'm not certain. That's just my theory. Most records are likely either hidden away in a safe or something, or have been destroyed. It's like, the Shrigan use their past to explain their current actions, but at the same time, they're trying to erase that past."

"Makes you wonder why," Daryn mused.

"You can hypothesize all you want on that, but the point I'm trying to make is that it has been deeply ingrained since childhood that if one Newcomer escapes, then the wars from the outside galaxy will drag the Shrigan back to massive bloodshed and destruction. They are happy to have us here, but we cannot leave. That's just the way it is. For a Shrigan to go against that law is the considered the worst form of treason, right up there with the assassination of their Triumvirate."

"You want to know what would cause this woman to throw away all the rules."

"Is that so much to ask? I want to know her motives." She unknowingly echoed his early thoughts.

"I'm not sure. You know, they have a saying on my planet: don't count the tail rings on a gift Zylonian monkey."

Kalika looked down at him. "What?" she asked, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards.

"Don't count the tail rings on a gift Zylonian monkey. See, as a Zylonian monkey ages, his tail grows these purple rings around it. So if someone gives you a monkey as a present, it's rude to count the rings to see how old the animal is."

"Okay…"

"You mean that Bothans don't have a saying like that? I mean, you would think that was your life motto, with all the politicians and spies that emerge from your society. No offense."

"None taken, but you have to understand that there's no such thing as a true gift in my society. Everything you do will be paid back."

"Such a cynical species."

"I'm not cynical—"

He quieted her with a kiss. "So everything you do is paid back, huh?" He grinned. "I think I'll have to pay you back for what you did to me earlier."

"Daryn…" she protested, trying to sound stern but failing. "Come on, sweetheart, not here…" Despite her complaints, she pressed herself against him, recapturing his lips. He pulled her into his lap.

The door slid open and light flooded the room.