Swoop track
Pol shrugged into the protective leathers of a pro racer with assistance and advice from Mission. She used the lull to catch up on gossip. "So Mish, what's the score with Carth and Bastila?"
Mission looked up from the strap she fastened about Pol's thigh, "Haven't you heard? Things went from woot to poot after he dropped that poor gizka in her bed. Now she won't talk to him."
Mission seemed relieved and Pol wondered how much money was at stake and who she gambling with. Her suspicions were confirmed when they rejoined the crew in the swoop pits. Jolee and Zaalbar were surveying the nonverbal dialogue between Bastila and Carth with marked interest.
Of all the racers, Pol had the biggest crowd in the pits barracking for her. This verity had not gone unmissed by the race master, Motta the Hutt. He slapped his heavy slug-like tail against the podium that bore his impressive girth and watched them with red tinged eyes, as he waited for the trials to begin.
Down in the pits Juhani, Jolee, Mission, Carth and a silent Bastila watched as T3 and Zaalbar made the last checks on Pol's bike. HK stood guard whilst Pol geared her mind to the task. When all was ready Carth signaled Motta the Hutt who called the race.
Carth helped Pol onto the bike with careful hands and wondered for the umpteenth time why Canderous wasn't present. He considered asking, but dismissed the thought not wanting to put Pol off her race. When she was ready he made his way cautiously to Bastila's side.
"Mind if I sit here?" He asked indicating the seat beside the Jedi. Bastila folded her arms resolutely. Carth sighed, "You are the most frustrating, childish woman I have ever met, Jedi or no."
"How dare YOU call me childish?" Bastila's whisper was a hot reprimand for the his practical joke. Mission, Zaalbar and Jolee took seats close to the pair; their interest peaked by the fiscal value of the ensuing conversation. Carth shot them a glance that made even Jolee uncomfortable, and the gamblers begrudgingly moved back to the sidelines of the track affording the subjects of their wager some privacy.
"This is bloody ridiculous Carth, whatever feelings we may have nothing can come of this." Bastila reasoned it out, speaking cursorily, barely parting her lips to annunciate.
Carth face split with a dazzling smile. "Ah but you admit there is something there," he beamed.
Bastila gulped and closed her eyes. Oh bugger now I've done it. If I don't encourage him he will get bored and go away. Just like all the others… "Carth must you persist in this folly?"
There was a trace of hurt in Carth's expression as he dismissed his emotions. "Fine, Bastila if that's the way you want it. Forget I said anything."
"Or did anything." Bastila added snippily. Good that should sort him out.
Oh ho, if that's the way you want to play it sister! Carth couldn't resist, he reminded her of the moment they had shared the night of the Gizka incident. "And that YOU were the one who kissed me." Meditate on that Gorgeous.
"OH shut up!" Bastila snapped at him and then stood to join Juhani at the fence. Shielding her face from the sun with her hand she watched Pol settle in at the starting position.
"What are you looking at?" Carth asked the astromech device. T3 chimed "beep doot dee beep beep." In a tone that the pilot was certain held a defamatory belligerence. He eyed it suspiciously as it trundled back to Zaalbar's side.
Pol screamed her way through the trials smoking Yuka Rill's second tier track time. The Ithorian's face fell, his long neck almost doubling when her official time was announced. She returned to the pits to await her next run.
Despite all her best efforts, and a gratuitous threat to the champ Nico compliments of HK-47, Pol had no joy in beating his record. She gave it three shots and but the title of champion and the credits that came with it evaded her.
"This is a waste of time and credits," she said "I can't break 21.05. The mods on Nico's bike are stellar and I'm too heavy on this swoop to best him, even running the prototype accelerator hot. Mission do you wanna give the old girl a burn across the sand?" Pol tugged off her jacket and held it to the young woman.
Mission grabbed it excitedly. "Oh my various god's yes!"
"Last run is in 20 minutes and you only get one shot, sorry about that I should have quit while I was ahead. We're still 500 credits shy of the full tank." Pol unlaced her remaining leathers to the sound of heavy protest.
Carth yelled, "NO WAY!"
Bastila squawked "ABSOULUTELY NOT IT IS FAR TOO DANGEROUS!"
Pol continued to hand her race kit to Mission piece by piece as she removed the protective outer layer form her clothing. "Pfft, Mission is a swoop brat from way back; she'll probably wipe the floor with my times. I don't know why we didn't think of it earlier."She grumbled as she undressed.
Mission's fellow Tarisian leant her support. "Gadon would not have tolerated her presence if she had no talent for the race," Juhani purred "Mission will be fine Padawan Bastila."
"Thanks Ju." Mission poked her tongue in the direction of her hecklers. Carth and Bastila sighed in unison and sat side by side. The teen wrapped herself in the leathers, with speed and familiarity that evidently came from practice, while Pol declared the change of rider to Motta the Hutt.
Bastila and Carth frowned worriedly together freezing the sunshine with their scowls. Pol stalked over to them grinning. "Look at you two! She will be fine, I know it. She has several years' worth of track time. I have barely an hours worth of experience remember? This will be good for her; you didn't see her with Griff. She needs this." Something has to go right for that girl.
Carth answered, stealing the words Bastila had been about to utter, "I hope you're right Pol." Bastila glanced at him with mild surprise then turned her attention to the track. More frequently it seemed the Republic pilot was her only supporter.
Pol leaned on the railing beside Zaalbar who hooted encouragement to Mission as she lined up the bike and awaited the signal. They were grinning and waving like proud parents, so zealous in their support that Bastila felt a pull through their shared bond. The Jedi smiled, a little at first and then so broadly her face seemed about to snap; as though it was unused to the expression. Carth viewed her with alarm. "Bastila? Are you ok?"
Juhani had spotted it too. The Cathar channeled the Force and viewed the scene from the ethereal plane. She could see Pol's enthusiasm clearly as it swept along their Force connection. Before Juhani could recommend Jolee shield Bastila from Pol's vibrant mood it was too late.
Still smiling Bastila grabbed Carth by the hand and led him to the sidelines. "Come, the view is better from the railings." She said.
Well this is a turn around, Carth thought as he followed the Jedi. "Ok..." Just when I think I know her… not that I'm complaining.
They watched on as Mission pasted Nico's record to the pages of swoop history with seconds to spare; running the circuit in a spectacular 16.2. Uninjured she hopped off the bike like she was stepping off cloud nine and waved to her delighted fans.
Elated by the victory the crowd went wild. Euphoric relief washed over Pol, she hadn't been concerned about Mission's capability with the bike, more worried she wouldn't have fun. Pol hugged Juhani, Pol hugged Jolee, Pol hugged Zaalbar, Pol hugged T3. Bastila hugged Carth. Jolee smirked, "Mission may be happy now but when she finds out she owes me a fiver…"
"From woot to poot indeed," Pol quoted the star of the day with a bemused smile for the affectionate couple.
Carth caught Bastila as she flew into his arms weightlessly. She held him fast for a moment squeezing him about the middle. As the feeling of jubilation subsided she relaxed her hold and looked up into his eyes. Deep rich and fathomless, he regarded her with undisguised desire. Before either of them could reconsider he kissed her, soundly. She responded and the world evaporated like moisture lost to the arid dunes of Tatooine.
Juhani shook her ponytail at the ex Jedi, "Jolee Bindo! You could have spared Bastila from Pol's influence." She chided. It was not as though they hadn't had practice at it.
Jolee gave a satisfied sniff, good for them if they find a little happiness in these dark times. "Can't fight nature, may as well try to de-cute a tach monkey, or invite a Krayt Dragon to a tea party" Jolee laughed.
Juhani wasn't buying it, "That was not entirely nature Jolee and you know it," she quipped, "you used their Force bond to win a bet!" she accused disapprovingly.
Jolee patted his bald bonce three times and stroked the remnants of his hair down towards his neck. "Hoo boy just as well I'm not a full time Jedi anymore!" Guiding her gaze with a carefully placed hand Jolee spun the Cathar to take in the romantic panorama, "Look girl, there's your nature," Jolee pointed to Carth and Bastila. "If it's all the Force bond then tell me, why are they still kissing?"
Not entirely satisfied with Jolee's errant behavior and weird rational Juhani Looked to Pol. Pol threw her hands up in defense, "What?" she laughed "All I did was hug a few people, and droids…I didn't tell her to snog him, jeesh." Gradually Pol rounded up the crew and they headed off with their new champion to collect Mission's winnings.
Deep Space
Less than an hour after Mission's record breaking swoop race the young woman made her way to the Czerka single men's housing complex to say farewell to Griff, who finally had the good sense to apologize to his sister. The meeting was brief and cool, but not hostile, they promised to stay in touch. Mission boarded the Hawk last, at twilight, two suns down and the last one on its way.
After the jump to hyperspace Pol approached Canderous. Aside from checking in on him before they left Tatooine, Pol had afforded him as much space as she could. Pajama clad she trod the steel floor barefoot to the swoop hanger. He was right where she had left him, polishing his weapons at the workbench.
"How you doing?" She asked quietly.
"I've been thinking about this thing with Jagi,"
Pol winced awaiting his response nervously, "And?"
"Things aren't the way they were for us, now the clans are scattered. Everything has changed, there is no order. Even something as simple as war, as pure as battle..."
"I think I know what you mean. All this sneaking about to get advantage, it's not like the old days of 'meet you on the field, your men versus mine.'"
"Exactly," He smiled. I knew you'd understand me Champ. "So what do you do when the rules change?" He asked. He was testing her.
Pol smiled, happily slipping into a familiar role: his star pupil. "You change tactics to suit."
He rewarded her with a smile that told her she had answered correctly. "I'm not the Mandalorian I once was, I'm not even the man I once was. The galaxy is changing, I have to adapt." He placed the blades upon the bench and wiped his hands. "I've been thinking about you too."
"Uh oh!" Pol giggled nervously, "don't tell me you've finally come to your senses Mando'ad? You've realized I'm crazy and now you want out?"
Canderous held her face in his hand and stared deep into her eyes. She had given him space, as requested, never taken more than was offered. She knew when to let things lie and when to push him. She was a challenge, she drove him to achieve, made him a better warrior, albeit one with a conscience. She had made him consider things he rather leave behind but he was stronger for it.
Pol happily admitted when she was wrong. He respected that. Despite her pride and obvious talent, she was an eager student and he had taught her a lot. She strove to improve herself. No matter what they say, the fact that she sounds like a regular boma now rather than an enraged drunken one; is proof that I do her some good.
After an eternity he bought her left hand to his mouth possessively, turned it upward and kissed the palm. "What do you think?" He whispered. Brushing her hair aside with his fingers Canderous ran his thumb down the side of her face from her temple to her throat lightly. He could feel her pulse below the heel of his hand. She closed her eyes and he kissed her passionately.
When her eyes fluttered open she sparked a grin at the man before her. "Guess not?" She said laughing at the time it had taken for the conversation to progress. As quick as their banter could be it had always been paced with fecund fields of silence. It was as though they could go a day or a week without talking and not need to catch up.
Canderous looked to the dagger on the bench at his elbow. "You came through for me Pol with Jagi…That means a lot." More than you know.
"Because I love you Canderous," Pol placed her hand on his chest adoringly; he held it there trapping it between his hand and his heart.
"And?" He asked with a wry grin, "what else?"
Pol rolled her eyes. "Alright, I admit I couldn't bear the thought of living without you."
"I knew it." He laughed and released her hand form its snare. She walked to their bed. He fingered the knife on the table thoughtfully as he watched her throw back the sheets. I swore I'd do this…. His hands faltered failing to execute the task, he sheathed the dagger in his boot. A tearing ache fused his mind to his heart; he closed his eyes and resolved to carry out the plan. No backing out now. After a moment he reached for the blade again his face grim. "Pol, there is something I have to do."
Pol didn't need the sixth sense of the Force to tell her Canderous was terrified, a blind Miraluka could see it. Before he could say another word and before she could offer him the comfort or support he seemed so desperately to require; the Ebon Hawks alarm shrieked. She tumbled out of bed as the ship shuddered from its course.
All hell breaks loose.
Canderous staggered against the workbench. "They're playing our song Champ." He shouted over the screeching and helped Pol to her feet. They ran to the cockpit where Carth was already desperately trying to knock their ship out of autopilot and escape the tractor beam that had seized the Hawk.
"I think they must have been waiting for us in the hyperspace route, we're stuck fast in their tractor beam, I can't get us out." Carth growled in frustration as he punched controls furiously.
Canderous took the co pilot seat "Fire on them!" He insisted grasping the controls.
"Look at the size of it!" Jolee waved at the view, "there's no contest!"
"Jolee is right, there is no point. It's the Leviathan…Saul Karath's vessel… my old mentor." Carth felt a hand on his shoulder, tidy nails and a single silver band encircling her thumb, it was Bastila's.
Unwaveringly she said, "We will face what we must, together."
Canderous continued to shout orders to the crew. "Like hell there's no point! Pol, Blue, get to the turrets, aim for the bridge, we may still be able to knock out their control centre!"
"C-note, there's no point, we're too close now. They have us." Mission pointed at the vista.
Canderous knew she was right. He rose from the co-pilot seat clenched fists and gritted teeth. No fracking way does it end like this. Pol touched his arm, her hands were cool and smooth, and the feeling settled him somewhat. He set his jaw, steeled his gut and looked at her.
"It's time to change tactics Chief," Pol calmed him with his own logic. "We need a plan… anyone got any good ones?" She looked about at the crew who were mesmerized by the spacecraft before them.
Mission spoke first, "They can't watch all of us…I'm good with locks, maybe if I hide I can come bust you out?"
Carth ran his hands through his hair, his brow creased into a deep furrow of fatigue and stress. "I know these men Mission. They're thorough they wont let any of us slip. Especially not the three of us," He indicated Bastila, Pol and himself, "Not knowing who we are."
Juhani's idea made the best sense. "What about a droid? They are less perceptible, in an overt way."
"HK would be perfect, he is self healing… well fixing." Pol patted her creation fondly, but with a healthy dose of fear behind her eyes.
"Proud statement: I am ready Master!"
She took a deep breath and gave the command, "Chief, Zaalbar throw him behind the blast door and lob in a grenade. HK when you get done repairing yourself come find us. Free us."
"Exultant query: Do I have permission to terminate at will?"
"Go nuts HK; just don't take any chances." Pol clarified the command in droid terms, "initiate discernment protocol, set parameters for success to 85 and get us out of there alive." Pol shivered as Zaalbar and Canderous escorted the excited assassin droid to the explosives store.
"I better get some clothes on before we dock." Pol held the hem of her silk night shift, it was better than the regulation Jedi sleepwear, in a loose dancing girl kind of way, but hardly the apparel of a hero.