o:o:o
Carth was waiting for them near the slavers' ship, and he smiled when he saw her returning.
She gave him her most seductive smile. "I was kind of hoping we could go aboard and finalize the deal, while my partner goes with your friends to get them ready."
"An excellent idea." With a gesture to the Bothan, he led Phaelon up the ramp into their ship, while Zak went back to the pens.
Once they were aboard, Carth took a seat and stared up at her. "Okay, Jedi, you can stop the charade now. I know who you are and what you want. In just a matter of minutes Alliya and Karka will be bringing your friend back up. Get my daughter released and back to me, and you can have him back without a scratch."
Phaelon shook her head. "You underestimate Zak." Silently, she sent an urgent impression of danger to her partner. /Be careful. They know./
They stood without speaking watching out the viewport for the others to appear.
Several minutes passed before a very disheveled-looking Zak slowly dragged himself out of the building. He was pressing a hand to the scorch on his side probably from a blaster, and a deep cut in his scalp was slowly trickling blood down his forehead.
She smirked and thought, Told you so. "Now if you care to come quietly," she said, taking her lightsaber from an inner pocket.
He sighed and shook his head. "Well, I guess…"
The blaster came out in a blur. Phaelon ignited her silver blade and batted away the two bolts while springing forward. Her leap slammed them backwards into a bulkhead. She pressed her lightsaber close enough to his throat to singe his skin.
"You must understand," he said, tossing the blaster away. "I had to try."
"And you still lost. You ready to give up yet?" she demanded, searching him for other concealed weapons.
He nodded, still smiling. "I'll be out in no time anyway. You can't pin anything on me."
"We'll see about that," she retorted, spinning him around and clasping stun cuffs on his wrists. "Let's go collect your friends."
o:o:o
The slavers were safely locked in the crew quarters, stuncuffed and miserable. The two that Zak had ambushed had been heavily stunned, but no worse for the wear.
Assuring herself that there would be no escapes for them, Phaelon made her way back to the cockpit, where Zak was warming the engines. There was already a thick, pinkish bacta patch on the blaster wound.
She handed him a wet cloth and another bacta patch. "For your head," she told him, slumping into the pilot's couch. "Let's get these guys out of here before they cause any more trouble."
The Jedi nodded noncommittally. "One thing though," he muttered.
"What's that?" she asked, bringing the repulsors online.
"This is the last time I let you plan the mission."
She smirked and engaged the drives that would take her out of the gravity well and back to Coruscant. "It's a deal."
o:o:o