Chapter 2
A few hours later…
"You lying son of a Schutta!" Grace accused in Ran'ie accented Basic. I should have mugged someone…
"Now see here. There's no need to go calling people names –" responded her opponent.
She interrupted. "You called me a cheater. Why shouldn't this one call you a son of a schutta?" Grace snarled in Ran'ie.
Her last Pazaak opponent looked at her and pulling at his ear remarked, "Why is a Ran'ie being impolite? I thought your species were renown for your flowery language. Could it be you aren't what you say you are?" He smirked.
Grace started to respond with a long string of Ran'ie expletives but stopped when she felt a presence behind her. She glanced behind to see the bartender from the other room. Should have realised he was signalling someone. Must be more tired than I realised… she thought.
"I'll have none of that language in my establishment if you please. I also do not tolerate cheaters here. If there's evidence you've cheated, your winnings are forfeit to the Cantina," he ended smugly. He looked over at the other man who Grace realised looked similiar in appearance to the bartender. A sudden suspiscion formed as she glanced between them. Her opponent reached over the table and made a show of lifting the top card on her deck and turning it over. He tapped the edge twice and the card face changed to a 2. Bastard… Grace thought as she lunged for him over the table, going for his throat.
She stood quietly between two guards as the doors to the cell-room opened an hour later. She waited and listened with her mind, feeling out for advantages if she needed to leave custody in a hurry. Her senses skimmed over the people around her.
Pretending to be Ran'ie… -white hair?… -get her alone in a… -equals 15, adds a +5 equals 20, player… Too late she remembered the Jedi and his companion getting arrested earlier. She baulked as she was pushed forward. A second harder shove moved her into the room. The two occupants turned their attention on her. The same two she had regarded hours earlier. Blondie looked to have been disturbed from his meditating. The brunette regarded her with an undisguised interest, and something more she could not place before his face became closed and guarded.
"And 'ere is your room milady. Best in the house." The left-hand guard pushed her into an adjacent cell and swung her around. "We'll have t' take the jewellery though. Pity. Goes so well wi' your skin," he leered as he removed the restraints from her wrists, his fingers lingering.
"Touch not," ordered Grace as she glared at him. He pulled back at the obvious threat of violence lurking in her eyes.
"Hee hee. Watch it Vorn. It took three people to pull her off her opponent. I don't fancy your odds. Hehee."
"Shut it Deekins," snarled Vorn as he activated the front force-wall. "See you around Sugar." He swaggered out and Deekins followed behind.
There was silence for a few minutes as Grace settled in to wait out her time. Then the sound of movement from the next cell caused her eyes to flick quickly sideways.
"So his name is Vorn. If I get him on the end of a stun baton I'll give him something shocking to think about," remarked the tall, dark man on the other side of her cell.
"Atton, you should not hold on to a grudge like that. He was only doing his job. Be it a bit enthusiastically," returned the blonde from the opposite cell.
"Yeah? Well, I now have another couple of reasons to that don't include me," Atton replied.
Grace frowned in puzzlement over the comment as more time passed and the Jedi looked over at Grace with a thoughtful expression on his face. She gave him back a blank stare and a blank mind when she realised what he was doing.
He gave a polite smile. "Excuse me but my friend and I were wondering if we could ask a few questions."
"I don't think so… Master Jedi," Grace challenged. Daring him to refute the title she gave him.
"Oh, you know?" His face fell. "I thought I did a good job of hiding. Must be out of practice. Ah, well. Still I would like some answers if you don't mind." He looked at Grace hopefully as she scrambled for an answer in the shock of guessing rightly what he was.
"No. Leave me alone. I want nothing to do with your faction wars anymore. You can all rot as far as I'm concerned." she asserted before turning her back on him.
"No luck, huh?" queried Atton from the other side of her wall.
"It would appear not. And I thought she was the one to help us. Apparently I was wrong… Again."
Grace felt a chill run down her spine, unconnected with the men in the room with her. She stretched out her senses further, towards the Docks.
Allan looked over at Atton and shrugged. Perhaps you can do better?… He lifted an eyebrow in query. Atton looked at the wall he was leaning his hand against and smiled slowly. Allan sighed silently at his friend.
"Pardon the intrusion on your otherwise busy schedule your highness but -" he began before being cut off by a loud slamming from the cell-room doors. "What the frack was that?"
The woman started and turned to peer down the room. "Lock-down," she replied flatly after a few seconds. "Something's happened. Lock-down only happens when there's either been a major breech in the vacuum seals, a major loss of power, or an attack on the station. I don't…" she stopped and began again. "I don't think it's a loss of power. The force-walls would be out. Can't be a breech - no alarms." Allan had the distinct impression she was going to say something else but had changed her mind in part-sentence.
"An attack?" queried Allan.
"I… You tell me Jedi," she returned defensively.
"Give me a couple of minutes," Allan amiably remarked and settled again to focus outside.
"Are you always this uncivil to people you've just met?" inquired Atton as Allan zoned out, his curiosity piqued.
"No. I've had a trying day. I apologise," came the answer from the next cell after a few seconds.
Atton smiled at the reply. "Well okay then. Now are you up for a little light interrogation since we don't seem to be getting out of here anytime soon?" he teased gently.
"All right then," smiled her voice. "But nothing personal. You ask personal stuff and I'll do something childish like sit in my cell and refuse to answer."
He smiled at the sound of her voice and looked back at the wall, imagining her standing opposite him. "All right. Maybe just one personal question? I mean, who are you? What's your name?"
"That's two. You can call me Grace." Atton waited expectantly. "Just Grace. You're not getting the rest. I don't know you either."
Going to make me work for it, eh?… Atton thought. "Fair enough Grace. The name is Atton. Atton Rand. I'm that one's errand boy and pilot." Atton waved a finger at Allan even though Grace couldn't see it. "As for him. He's Allan Berrun, Jedi Master. But you already knew what he was. How did you anyway? Know, I mean."
"He walks like a Jedi. To someone who knows what to look for it's quite obvious. And only Masters are known to travel outside their factions sector. Or have an Assassin as company."
What?… Attons' mouth flapped open as he heard her reply. "I'm not an assassin Sweetheart." he snapped as he took a step back in his cell.
"Well you're not a Guardian, that's for sure. You didn't have the military look about you." Grace remarked matter-of-factly.
Allan stirred and looked up. "Wait. You said Assassin with a capital A," rejoined Allan. "What did you mean?"
"You've got to be joking. You don't know the difference? Where are you from? The other side of the galaxy?"
"Yeah, you could say that," Atton muttered just loud enough to be heard as his anger died down quickly under his curiosity over what Grace meant.
Grace relaxed as she felt the anger die in the next cell and started to lecture. "A small letter 'a' assassin is a hired killer, a butcher, sometimes a bounty hunter or a highly paid lowlife. A capital 'A' Assassin is a highly trained bodyguard, spy, jack of all trades and a most efficient silent deterrent, bound to the service of a Master. A Masters right-hand man you might say." She stopped. "Was I wrong? Do you people have different names because from what I've seen he fits the title quite well except for… never mind," she finished as she realised she had given too much information again.
"From what you've seen? You've barely… It was you I sensed outside the Cantina!" exclaimed Allan. "No! Don't answer that. Back to the important things such as why we are in lock-down. I could sense pain and something, or someone else coming from the Docks. On the plus side there's currently no-one in the detention centre near us."
"Allan, I have a bad feeling coming on," interrupted Atton.
"As do I. I believe it is time to leave. I think we may have found most of what we were looking for in this place anyway," Allan responded. He looked at Grace again. "We could do with some further help. You do not know me but I can assure you I have nothing to do with these faction wars you speak of. We are searching for a friend of mine who needs my help. Care to join us?"
Grace frowned in thought as she felt an urge to trust this Jedi. "Where to?" she questioned.
"Away at this point. After that we'll see."
"Get us out of here and I'll help you as best I can. Deal?"
"Deal."
"So, Oh Great General, how are we getting past the force-walls then? Some Jedi trick? Or do you happen to have a security tunneller on you that they didn't find." asked Atton with some wry amusement in his voice.
"Neither." Allan responded cheerfully. "But I do have a disguised comm unit on me. I'll just give T3 a call and get him to slice the system. It should not take long."
Grace nodded in appreciation of Allans' contingency plan. Outside help is always good in a breakout… she silently agreed.
Pace, pace, and turn. Pace, pace, and turn.
Atton walked back and forward in his cell, his senses jangling and his irritation building. "How long do we have to wait?" he demanded. "What's that tin can doing - taking a holiday?"
"Patience Atton," soothed Allan from the floor of his cell where he sat calmly. "He has to find a path past whatever has happened at the Docks, then access the mainframe. Try and think of something else before you wear a line in the floor. Close your eyes."
"I know. I know. I just don't like waiting is all," Atton exhaled loudly and stopped pacing. He closed his eyes.
"Breath." Allan's voice came from afar. "Imagine you are walking along the beach on Telos. The warmth from the sun overhead as it soaks into your skin. The color and texture of the sand underfoot. The sound of the waves as they roll and touch the shore. The taste of the salt spray in the wind and the feel as it blows through your hair. The smell of water, earth and air as you breathe deeply."
This is not so bad… Atton smiled softly and felt himself relax as the irritation fell away. He opened his eyes to look at the man he now called a friend. "Nice one. Now next time give me an image from a Cantina on Nar Shaddaa. I recall some very nice views there… Very," he added suggestively.
Allan let out a quick chuckle and shook his head. His smile broadened as the force-walls flickered and faded. He jumped up and moved to scrutinize the main cell-room doors.
Looks like the tin bucket came through again… Atton thought as he started to follow, but paused at the edge of his cell as Grace appeared from hers. His eyes moved down and up as he took in her figure. I could meditate on this view for a long time… he decided as he appreciated the sight. Slim but oh so curvy, set off by a dusky tan painted over toned muscles. All hiding behind boots, pants and a wrap-shirt. He dragged his eyes slowly to her face. Her short white-blond hair spread out to frame an oval face with cheekbones itching to be stroked. Soft full lips begging to be kissed. And a pair of the most bewitching violet eyes he had seen, currently also giving him the once-over. Atton grinned roguishly as her eye caught his and a hint of a blush flowed over her cheeks. Interesting…
"If you two have finished ogling one another," interrupted Allan's voice from the doorway.
Grace's blush deepened. Very interesting… "We weren't 'ogling'," she responded quickly. "Just… sizing up the company." She lifted her chin and stepped past, moving towards the door.
Atton's eyes lowered to watch the sway of her hips. "I was definitely ogling," he murmured as he followed her.
The metal cell-room doors stood resolute in their refusal to open. Allan regarded them and spoke into the comm, "T3, why haven't the doors opened?"
"Bee dede doot. Doo be de Dwooo. Beet be deee de dee!"
"Okay T3. Thank you for trying anyway."
He turned to face the other two in the room. The blush faded from Grace's face as she attempted to ignore Atton, while the scoundrel stood behind with a small smile on his face. "We have good news and bad news," Allan began. "What do you want to hear first?"
"Oh, the good news definitely," answered Atton.
"The good news is T3 has disabled the alarms and run a loop through the cameras so it looks like we are still here in our cells. The bad news is he can only open the electronic part of these doors," Allan waved a hand behind him. "There is still the mechanical part which will not budge due to the Lock-down."
"So we're stuck here? Great," groused Atton as he glared at the offending doors.
"It seems that way," murmured Allan in agreement.
"Not necessarily," Grace said as she looked back at Allan then down at her hands. "I haven't been completely honest with you - considering how short a time I've known you. But I did agree to help you get out of here to the best of my abilities." She trailed off as she looked up to see both men staring at her. "What? You expect me to spill my guts at the first words out of your mouths? I'm not that kind of person. But a deals a deal, and I want out even more than you do. That someone coming this way?… I really don't want to meet. I don't know how he got here so fast or how many he's brought." Grace frowned and bit her lower lip. "Maybe I wasn't as good at hiding as I thought I was. But I can feel him and he's none too particular about who he hurts to get to me." She stopped and eyed Atton warily as he stiffened and a scowl formed on his face.
Allan blinked in dawning realization. "I knew there was something off about you. You are a Force Adept, are you not?"
"Well…"
"You're a Jedi?" interrupted Atton.
"I have never considered myself to be a Jedi. I just know a thing or two and can do a thing or two. Do you want out or not?" Grace demanded. "Because very shortly there will any number of either security guards or other less savory individuals returning here." Grace turned to Allan. "I haven't done this in a few years but give me a few seconds."
Stupid, stupid… Grace's mind chided her. Hush, I need to concentrate… She placed the palms of her hands against the well-worn doors and focused on the metal beneath them. She breathed deep and held it. A memory of a lesson learnt flowed through her mind. Where are the bolts? There are the bolts. Can you sense anything else? No… Wait…Yes Master… It's a simple deadbolt system but with an alarm set to trigger if it opens early. Good… then focus… She breathed out pursed lips and drew another breath. Fuse the alarm circuit… If you can't manipulate the mechanism to unlock the door then break the bolts… The sound of metal groaned through the room, a tortured cry of metal under stress. Sweat trailed slowly down the side of her face as Grace deepened her perception of the metal in the doors.
CRACK!
The doors shot open. The floor reared up. Strong arms wrapped around her to stop her falling as her vision blurred and her legs gave way.
Stupid, stupid… Atton's mind chanted. Shut up… The sound of shifting metal breaking under great stress turned his head. He saw Grace half pressed against the doors, tension singing through her slim frame. He gaped as he saw shallow ripples flow through the metal from under her hands. No way. She can't…
CRACK!
The door shot open. Allan leapt forwards and caught Grace as her legs collapsed. Atton stepped forward unbidden as he watched Allan gently lower her to the ground, a look of concern on the Jedi's' face. Jealousy flared in Atton's chest as Allan continued to cradle her limp form.
Allan looked up. "Atton! Secure the room!" he ordered without his usual easy manner.
Atton blinked and looked up. He obeyed the voice used to command and which commanded his allegiance. Stepping past the doors he found himself in the processing area which he quickly searched as he made his way to the set of doors on the other side. A stun baton lying under a counter caught his attention and he scooped it up. He gave it an experimental swing to get the feel and charged it up. His senses twitched as if someone were coming. Old skills well used helped him to glide silently to the side of the door and wait. A small vicious smile slid across his mouth as the door opened as the guard Vorn walked in.
"Hey! What th-?" Vorn began as he saw the cell-room doors wide open and as Atton slipped behind him. Atton moved fast and brought the baton around in an underarm strike going for the least defended spot at the rear of the mans amour. Too slow to turn to see the danger Vorn could only gag as pain blossomed. Atton left him there as he moved to check the corridor. A turn in the passage hid his view. He stepped to the corner and looked. The first set of blast doors he saw were left open and showed the Property Lock-up counter. Further down the corridor another set of closed blast doors hid the room beyond. Again he moved swift and silently as a cat to spy more of the layout. Another bend and then the corridor opened into the Reception Room. A battered, U-shaped reception desk dominated the center of the room and four more guards in full amour stood near the exit with their attention focused outwards. Didn't they hear the doors breaking? Must be some good soundproofing between the cells and here… Atton thought as he moved backwards slowly and glided back to the processing area. He regarded Vorn for a few seconds as the man rocked back and forth and, charging up the stun baton again, he pressed it against the base of the mans skull. The guard spasmed then lay still.
"You could have done that with your first strike. You did not need to hit him like that," Allan admonished as he stopped on the other side of the limp guard.
"Hey, what're you going to do? He tried doing it to me." Atton shrugged. "I did the right thing with the second one. I could have just kept poking him. I wanted to… but I didn't." Allan looked steadily at him and Atton looked away as guilt churned in his gut.
A Force-inspired insight occurred to Grace as she leaned against the counter and watched the interplay between the two men. Allan looked like he wanted to shake some sense of decency and fairness into Atton as Atton tried justifying his actions. Master Berrun must see something more in Atton than Atton sees if he's trying to teach him how to be a nicer person… Atton looked like he had been caught doing something really bad and he knew it too. And Atton wants Master Berrun to respect him but he can't help acting like a jerk. He's trying but not entirely succeeding against his nature… Atton was the first to look away. Do I really want to get involved with these people? Both are more and less than what they pretend… So are you Grace and you made a deal… I know… Perhaps there is more to a lot of things. Perhaps you were given a second chance for a reason. Just because you chose exile don't mean you have to stay an exile. Perhaps you're here to help in other ways than just getting off this station. Maybe you need to stop running all the time. Maybe you should stay with them and help both gain whatever it is they need… Maybe. I'll think about it…
Grace frowned as she moved slowly past the counter pondering her thoughts and she looked up in time to see chagrin flicker across Atton's face as he looked into hers. He turned his head away as she opened her mouth to speak. Her jaw snapped shut in sudden irritation and instead she walked past to peer down the corridor. She reached out with her senses. Four guards. Easy… But someone else is almost here already… she thought as another shiver ran down her spine.
"We need to get our weapons from Lock-up. And we need to move fast," responded Allan as if he could hear her. "Think you can open the lockers there?"
"No problem. It'll be a lot easier than a cell-room door." Grace reached over and touched Atton on the arm. He looked back in surprise. "Care to join me?"
"Never thought you'd ask. I mean, it's not like I have anything better to do than stay and enjoy the fine hospitality of this spacestation," Atton replied with a crooked smile.
The three escapees moved swiftly down the corridor.