Hey, this is more than I've done on my other stories. Hmm. I just kinda go from story to story as I feel like working on them. For some reason my cranium will not let me stick to my original plots… Bad Blaine, bad.
Why, oh why didn't I give Emlyn just plain blonde hair? Because strawberry blonde is cooler, that's why! And violet eyes are just rockin'! Dude!
I'm fine.
Oh, and there will be more romance later. Better get to it, huh?
I'll try to update soon, but it takes so long to actually get anything done with the stuff going on right now. Don't forget to check my profile if I haven't submitted anything in a while, since I'll usually say why.
I am not happy, Bob. Not happy.
Enjoy! And don't forget to REVIEW! This authoress likes feedback! And rambling, apparently...
Declaimer: Since my name is Blaine and not George Lucas, or anything remotely close, I do not own anything in this story other than a few characters detached from their histories, settings, and everything else. If I did own Star Wars I would be incredibly patient, rich, intelligent, and... a guy... Not worth it.
FIVE
Emlyn felt a scream rise in her throat as she was about to die. But death was not to take her. She felt the Assassin's finger reaching for the switch, and she pushed. The power of her Force Push sent him flying across the room and over the counter where a scared looking rodian was cowering. Taking a deep breath, Emlyn leaped over to Dustil, who had just cut down the first Sith Assassin. Without a second thought Emlyn decapitated the second.
"Are you okay?" he asked her, putting his saber away.
She did likewise and nodded, knowing that he had felt her fear. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, attempting to smile, but failing. She bit the inside of her bottom lip and turned toward Freya. The young woman looked absolutely terrified and was trying very hard to be brave. Emlyn was still annoyed with her for some unknown reason, but her opinion of her went up one notch.
"You could have been killed, Jedi!" she said in her melodious voice, rushing over to Dustil.
Down three notches.
Dustil, however was not paying her much attention. He seemed to be focused on Emlyn and making sure she was okay. The reality was that she was not; the Sith had brought back… unpleasant memories, and she was putting up wall after wall to keep Dustil out, and she knew he felt it. "Happens all the time," he responded to Freya.
"You put your life in danger for me. I thank you for that," Freya said graciously.
Would have been two notches up, but Freya was only talking to Dustil, as if Elmlyn had hid behind a table as Freya had.
"It's our job," Dustil told her, "We shouldn't stay here." Walking over to where the rodian was still hiding by the Sith leader's body, Dustil apologized and lead the way out of the Lodge. The hunters were still sitting silently, knowing better than to interrupt Jedi business.
Emlyn was still annoyed with Freya for acting like it was only Dustil that had done anything, but she shook her head to dispel such thoughts. It doesn't matter. She is infatuated with him, and I will not let this girl get to me… how old is she? Surely not more than seventeen or eighteen…
'That is a very wise decision, Emlyn.'
Then why don't I feel peaceful?
'You are still recovering from your shock of almost dying from the poison. Until your body has completely recovered from it, watch your emotions, for they will be harder to control until you are healthy again.'
"Are you sure you're okay?"
Emlyn drew away from her conversation with Lea and looked up at Dustil. Had he gotten taller since she met him? He had to be six or seven inches above her 5' 6" feet. "I…" she started to tell him about the poison that was still in her, but Freya interrupted.
"I am sorry, but we are almost at the cantina. It should be safe for us to speak there," she said. Emlyn just noticed that Galactic Basic was not her first language, judging from how she put some of her sentences together, and her accent. How odd. Not that it was unheard of, but not many people went three years of their life without beginning to learn Basic.
"Do you have a home?" Dustil asked Freya, "If so, I would warn your family to get off world as soon as possible."
"I have no family. They were killed by the Sith only a few months ago. My father, who was very kind, and my mother and sisters. Only I remain. We will meet a boy there, Cole, who has also lost his family to the Sith," Freya said with anger.
"I'm sorry," Emlyn said softly.
Freya gave her a small smile. "Thank you. Not many people know how it feels. Do you?" she asked, looking at Emlyn curiously.
"We should hurry," Emlyn said, switching the subject. She did not want to say anything more about her past. She still couldn't believe that she had told Dustil so much. It made her feel… vulnerable, which was something she feared. The last time she had opened herself up to someone she had been let down very badly. She wouldn't let that happen again if she could help it.
'Be careful not to close yourself off to life, Emlyn.'
I will, Emlyn said shortly, not wanting to talk about it.
"He said that he would meet us in the back left corner," Freya said softly as they entered the dark building.
The cantina was much like the rest that Emlyn had seen; dark, dank, dirty, funny smelling, and busy. There was not live entertainment though, only a Bith holo player. "I always love spending time in places like this," Emlyn said sarcastically as a drunken twi'lek lurched past her.
"I do not," Freya said with a shudder, "And I cannot see how you enjoy it so."
Emlyn could have sworn her sarcasm made a whistling noise as it flew over Freya's head.
"There he is," Freya said, pointing to a small table in a corner. Sitting at it was a young man with jet black hair that flopped over his forehead. Emlyn supposed he was around twenty-two. When they got closer he looked up, and she saw that he had intense crystal blue eyes.
"Cole, these are the… friends I told you would be coming," Freya said.
"Hey," Cole said, standing and extending a hand to both Emlyn and Dustil.
Dustil nodded to him, and Emlyn smiled a bit. Cole gestured for them to take their seats, and Emlyn noticed Freya carefully choosing one near Dustil.
"We should probably tell you about our encounters with the Sith," Freya said quietly. Emlyn had to strain to hear her.
"You can talk louder than that, princess; no one's listening," Cole said casually, leaning back resting his elbow on the back of his chair. Emlyn secretly agreed with the nickname.
"You cannot know that," Freya argued, looking annoyed
"I know it," was the only response.
Emlyn looked at him curiously. "How?" she asked before she could stop herself. Her heart gave an odd thud as he turned his intense gaze on her. She kept her face impassive as he stared at her.
"I don't know," he said finally, "But I do. No one's going to hear us that will care what's going on."
Glancing over at Dustil, Emlyn knew they were both thinking the same thing, but it was not the proper time to address that issue. Perhaps later, if the right time arrived.
"As I was saying," Freya continued, "My family was killed by the Sith for no apparent reason. They showed up one day, and my father tried to get them to let the rest of us go, but they wouldn't, so he told us to run, and only I escaped. My brother saved me, and died for it."
Seeing the pain in Freya's face, Emlyn felt sympathy for the girl and the life the Sith had taken from her.
"My story is the same as far as the basics, but I know why my family died, and yours too," Cole said seriously, his bangs obstructing the view of his eyes.
"What?" Freya's mouth opened in shock.
"Our fathers were two members of a group that was formed to plan an overthrow of Kabba," Cole said slowly, naming the Hutt that ruled most of Tatooine's settlements, "And as we know now, Kabba is employed by the Sith."
Dustil frowned and looked at Emlyn. They hadn't known that. Not that it was surprising, only more dangerous and difficult for them all.
"Don't look so shocked," Cole said with a short laugh, "I thought you Jedi could sense danger from a world away."
"Wouldn't that be nice?" Emlyn said, raising her eyebrows at him.
"It'd help now and then, wouldn't it," Cole retorted.
"What happened to the rest of the group?" Dustil interrupted.
"They were killed. Of course, most were unimportant people, like my father, so no one cared enough to check out the cause of their deaths. The only one that caused a stir was the death of your father, princess," Cole said. Emlyn could hear bitterness in his voice, but it was well hidden.
"Stop calling me that," Freya hissed.
"You act like royalty, so why not call you so?"
"How dare you? I do not put on airs!"
"Didn't say you did, but now that you mention it…"
"Hey, cool it," Dustil said, leaning forward, "We have more important things to discuss."
"Sorry if I offended your girlfriend, here, but her father wasn't the only good man killed," Cole said coolly.
"And neither was yours, I bet," Emlyn pointed out, "So it would be such a big help if you'd continue." She crossed her arms.
"Whatever you say, Captain," Cole said, saluting her. Emlyn bit the inside of her bottom lip to keep herself from retorting. "Others were killed, and the group was wiped out. They had overheard some plan the Sith were making that involved Tatooine, but I don't know what it was. It was big, though, and everyone was murdered."
"I… did not know," Freya said softly.
Emlyn looked away from their table and let her eyes travel over the occupants of the room. Some were playing pazaak, others were laughing and drinking together, and a few were huddled in dark corners, discussing mysterious topics, like her group was, Emlyn thought to herself. Suddenly a being caught her eye. It was a girl around here age, she'd guess, maybe a year older, with curly red hair that was pined all over her head, loose clothes, and a black bag swung over one shoulder. She looked like she was searching for someone.
"Expecting anybody else, you two?" Emlyn asked Freya and Cole.
They shook their heads and looked around.
"Well, there's someone that's just spotted us, and she coming this way," Emlyn said cheerfully.
"Cole," the girl said as she reached them. She was very short, maybe 5' 2", with gray eyes and a frown on her face.
"Mack?" Cole said, frowning.
"Mackenzie?" Freya echoed.
"That's me. Look, we gotta find a way out of here. I asked around and confirmed that…" Mackenzie stopped and stared at Emlyn and Dustil. "Who're the offs?"
"Off worlders," Cole supplied at Emlyn's look. Then, to Mackenzie, "They're Jedi."
"Really?" Mackenzie did not look pleased. "Since they're with you I'll assume they can be trusted, Cole," She said flatly, "The Sith are after you two, and me for that matter. You're witnesses that are willing to talk and I'm the gal that broke into their base."
The other four stared.
"Hey, they had it coming," Mackenzie defended, putting her hands on her hips, "They were practically begging someone to try and break in, what with all the emphasis they've been putting on their 'wonderful security systems'. Who was I to disappoint them?"
"So what'd you get, Mack? You should've told me you were going; I would've been glad to help," Cole said, smiling.
"Yeah, sure, and make me split fifty fifty. No, I'm a loner when it comes to jobs. But seriously, we've gotta span some clicks before they catch on that we're still here," the red head finished urgently.
"Why is that?" Dustil asked her.
"Because there are some very vengeful Huts and Sith on Tatooine that are going to have a lot of fun spacing the lot of us if we're not out of here by yesterday," Mackenzie explained, fiddling with the strap of her pack.
"I have one last thing to tell you all before we leave," Cole said, his eyes dark, "Because if I die… it needs to be known."
Emlyn looked at the young man with interest, and could feel Dustil key in on what Cole was about to say.
"The person that ordered the murders of the men is the Senator from Dantooine, Sholdan."
Emlyn knew that the news was bad, but judging from the reactions of the others around the table, it was worse than some low-level Senator gone bad. She looked over at Dustil, who was looking just as shocked as the other three. "This isn't good," he said grimly, running a hand through his unruly hair.
"I don't know what's so bad," she said, glancing at everyone.
"Are you serious, Jedi?" Mackenzie asked, eyes wide.
"Well, I haven't been around for a while, so I don't know much about the current political standing of the Republic," Emlyn explained, "Or much else about it, either."
"Senator Sholdan is supposed to be one of the people in charge of eliminating the Sith threat from the galaxy. He has access to most of the Republic's plans, strategies, and secrets. If he's turned..." Dustil paused for a moment, "I've got to let the Republic know."
"First we've gotta make sure our tails are in the clear, or we gonna lose them," Mackenzie said.
"Got a ship in mind?" Dustil asked.
"What's wrong with the one you came on?" Cole asked.
"If you were watching us when we landed - which is how you know we took a ship and not a public transport, right? – then you should know there's not enough room," Dustil responded.
"Hey, I didn't spy on you, I just know that Jedi like to take their own transportation when they travel. They like to make it easier to get away," Cole said defensively, leaning toward Dustil threateningly.
"You two can continue this lovely display of affection on the ship," Emlyn said, standing up quickly.
"And what ship is that, Jedi?" Mackenzie asked sneeringly.
"The big one for sale in Hobino's shop," Emlyn replied, folding her arms. She had seen the ship on the way in, and suspected that it had been sitting there long enough for Hobino to give them a discount, but only if they played their cards right.
"The Solar Flare?" Freya asked in astonishment.
"I'm not sure of the name, but it's the one with the blue rimming," Emlyn said, then as an afterthought, "What a stupid name."
"It was used to carry some famous band or other around for their galactic tour just before the Mandalorian Wars. Needless to say that trip was killed, just like the band," Mackenzie said.
Emlyn cringed inwardly, but addressed Cole when he asked her just how she planned to pay for it. Emlyn gave a wolfish grin as she answered, "Swoop racing, of course."
She's completely mad! That was the first thought that entered Dustil's head after Emlyn's unexpected words. Everyone knew that swoop racing was much more dangerous than it had been about a decade ago. It was no longer just making sure you didn't collide with the walls; no, now they had barricades that you had to jump, dodge around, and duck under, as well as mines, obstructions, and any dirty trick someone decided to throw in for fun. That and the new type of engine the bikes had; they were much more unstable than the previous build, but the fad started on Taris some years ago with a prototype and had continued through the galaxy until anyone who didn't put themselves in immediate peril was considered a cheater.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Dustil said carefully, knowing that Emlyn would take it the wrong way. He could feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through her at the thought of racing, her slight nervousness, and her somewhat clouded mind. However, he was quickly closed off to her emotions as she threw up walls to keep him out. He frowned, wondering why Emlyn would do that.
"Why not? I'm a good racer, and if I die you all can still cram into the other ship and escape," Emlyn argued.
Dustil still didn't like the idea, but before he knew it he was standing next to Cole, Mackenzie, and Freya as Emlyn signed up for a round of three heats. After a while of waiting for it to be her turn, Dustil decided he was tired of waiting and made his way to the sign up desk; he was going to race.
After signing in, Dustil quietly walked up behind Emlyn. She sensed someone waiting behind her and turned, letting out a soft yelp of surprise to see Dustil grinning at her. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, "And I suppose you had to suppress your presence like that?"
"Just keeping you on your toes, Em," Dustil said with a smirk, "Next time it might not be someone as nice or as good looking as I am."
"Like a crazed bantha that's been out in the sun for several days?"
"Funny."
"Not joking."
Before Dustil could retort, a loud voice began to speak over the speaker system. "Racers, report to your gates."
"See you at the finish line, Onasi," Emlyn said, a smirk of her own on her lips.
"Just try not to get too upset when I beat your score into scrap," Dustil said lightly.
"You wish."
"I know."
"Liar."
"Takes one to know one."
"Okay, tell you what, Big Shot, how about we set a wager?" Emlyn suggested, crossing her arms over her stomach.
"Stakes?" Dustil asked suspiciously.
"The winner gets to decide," Emlyn told him.
"Done."
On that potentially catastrophic note, they parted, both determined to beat the other out. Dustil smiled to himself; he was the best racer there had been on Telos, and that was years ago. The only person he had not been able to beat was Revan, but he let that one slide; she was a Legendary Jedi, after all.
Dustil hopped into his vehicle and watched the red light, waiting to begin. Yellow. Green! He floored the accelerator the millisecond the lights switched. To his annoyance, he realized that the machine was not very well built. "Come on!" he hissed as it sluggishly jolted forward. Reaching under the panel in front of him, Dustil blindly searched for two specific wires while trying to maintain his speed. There! He pulled the wires and reconnected them. The Swoop shot forward, almost taking him straight into a waiting mine. He veered to the left and hit a boost pad, and then went right and hit another. Shifting gears, Dustil barely bothered to keep his eyes open for traps; no one would care about a neophyte racer… yet.
"What an amazing score!" the Bith exclaimed as Dustil dismounted.
"What was it?" Dustil asked curiously, rapidly brushing at his hair to dislodge the dust from the track: there was no where safe from it on Tatooine.
"20.14 seconds!"
"That's it?" Dustil asked, frowning. He'd expected at least a nineteen.
"This does not please you, Human?" asked the Bith confusedly.
"I want to run my second heat," Dustil said, deciding not to answer the question.
"Yes, you may start," the Bith said. Dustil heard him muttering something about crazy humans as he walked away. The alien might have a point, Dustil conceded.
Two heats later, Dustil walked away happy with a best time of 17.98 seconds. He walked up to the desk and asked if he had won a reward. He seriously doubted that anyone else could have…
"Yes, you win for second place," the alien said cheerfully.
"What?"
"Second place, Human: you won second place," the alien said flatly.
"Who beat my time!"
The alien looked at him sternly.
"Have fun out there, Spacer?"
Dustil turned around and came face to face with a very happy looking Emlyn. A happy Emlyn was never a nice Emlyn. "Actually, I did, but…"
"Your score was really good, but not quite good enough, Onasi," Emlyn laughed, "I beat you."
"You?"
"Me."
"How….?"
"My score is 17 seconds, if you're interested," Emlyn said innocently.
"I don't believe this!" Dustil grumbled, running a hand through his hair.
"Believe it, flyboy! And don't mope around like you've got something jammed up your engine valve," Emlyn cackled.
"Unlike some people, I win and lose well."
"But you seem to be doing more of the latter, eh?"
"Just tell me what you're going to inflict on me," Dustil sighed. He might as well get it over with.
"Not yet. I need time to contemplate all possibilities," Emlyn said as she grinned in a disturbingly evil way.
Dustil felt a jolt of nervousness shoot through him; he didn't think he wanted to know what she was up to. Shaking his head, he said, "I still don't believe that you beat my time. There's got to be a mistake: I'll go check."
"Hey! You know I won fair and square, Onasi! You're such a dug over this! Don't ignore me! Get back here!" Emlyn shouted as Dustil took off. He had to swerve around the desk, doubting that he would be alive long enough if he stopped to actually check her time.
Emlyn chased him through the crowds and back toward the prep area that was filled with racers getting ready to run their heats. Dustil ducked behind a large locker and watched as Emlyn stopped in the doorway. She scanned the large room all the way from the dirty metal ground to the walls and ceiling marred by carbon scoring from blasters. Then he felt her search for him through the Force. He tried to put up walls, but wasn't able to block her completely: not at such a short distance.
When he knew she felt him, Dustil decided to make a break for it. He ducked out from behind the locker and attempted to escape through a side door, but was shoved roughly up against a wall. He found himself, for the third time that day, very close to Emlyn. She was scowling at him as she pinned him to the cold metal wall.
"Admit you lost, Onasi," she ordered.
"What, you can't take a challenge to your skills?" Dustil joked.
"I want to hear you admit defeat is all," was the cheerful reply.
Dustil thought quickly: he didn't hate losing something like an unimportant swoop race, but there was as much chance of him ever admitting defeat to Emlyn as she would to him. So how to get out of it? He looked down at her triumphant violet eyes, a few wisps of red-gold hair hanging in front of them. What would annoy her most? He smirked.
"What?" Emlyn asked suspiciously, tightening her grip on his collar. She yelped in surprise as Dustil wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest while stepping away from the wall so that he was no longer trapped. Just as she began to push him away, Dustil let her go and, with a cocky grin, took off through the door and disappeared.
"You will die, Dustil Onasi!" Emlyn shouted after him, "And the authorities won't be able to find enough of your pitiful remains to convict me!" The only answer Emlyn got was silence. Most likely he'd been out of hearing range. Emlyn tried to calm down, noticing that she was trembling slightly and having a bit of a hard time breathing.
'Are you alright, Emlyn?'
NO! That idiotic Jedi! Stupid, brainless marsh toad! Foul breathed katarn! Fr…
'I sense you are angry,' Lea said with humor.
I won't let him get to me! I won't!
'I can see that.'
We'll see who wins! I won't let him know he made me mad! I… have an abnormal amount of lethal chemicals coursing through my bloodstream, Emlyn finished irately. Taking a deep breath, she began the trek back to the others. When she got there they were already planning on how to get Hobino to agree to their price. It was feasible, but would be difficult; Toydarians weren't easy to negotiate with.
"I say we hold a weapon to his head and get it over with," Cole was saying, exasperated.
"I'd like to put a sharp object to someone's head, but it's not Hobino," Emlyn muttered.
"I think that was a jab at me," Dustil said musingly.
"I'll jab something, alright," Emlyn retorted before turning her attention to the others. "We should go see him before we debate anymore; we won't be able to tell how low he'll go if we don't talk to him first."
"Well, we haven't got a better plan," Mackenzie muttered.
"Thanks so much for your support," Emlyn replied.
"I've got plenty to spare."
"Can't you either of you say anything without being sarcastic?" Cole demanded.
"Don't be dense," Mackenzie scolded him.
"Of course not," Emlyn said sternly.
"I believe they were being sarcastic again, Cole," Freya said thoughtfully.
"If they had been any more obvious we would've had to shoot them," Dustil quipped.
"Oh! Please don't!" Freya said in alarm, gripping Dustil's arm, "You would get in trouble!"
"So glad you care, Frey," Mackenzie said.
"Let's just go," Emlyn snapped, not liking the way Freya leaned toward Dustil. The latter didn't seem to notice.
The bargaining went much better than anyone expected. It turned out that Emlyn was a natural at negotiations, and soon they walked out of the shop with a new ship and 1,256 credits to spare.
"I can't believe that worked," Cole said, stunned.
"Is your friend always so… demanding?" Freya asked Dustil as all of them walked toward the docking area to board their new ship.
Emlyn scowled as Freya brushed against Dustil as she walked. Again, Dustil didn't seem to notice her attentions.
"Most likely," Dustil replied to Freya, giving Emlyn an amused look.
Remembering that she was supposed to be mad at him, the strawberry blonde Jedi sniffed and turned her head away. "So where are we going, exactly," Emlyn asked Cole and Mackenzie, who were busy arguing about something or other. They stopped and looked at her, and then at each other.
"That's what we were… discussing," Mackenzie said with a frown. "I think we should head for Coruscant and confront Sholdan about this, with witnesses of course, and…"
"I think we should go to Nar Shadaa," Cold interrupted, glaring at the girl.
"Why?" Freya asked.
"Because that's where Jobba is, and he'll know a lot more about this than even Sholdan will," Cole snapped.
"Who's Jobba?" Emlyn asked.
"One of the Slimiest Huts on the planet," Cole said darkly, "But also one of the best informed of illegal… ventures."
"Why don't we decide this when we're in the clear," Dustil suggested, lowering the loading ramp of the Solar Flare.
"Fine," Cole and Mackenzie said simultaneously.
As soon as they had cleared the planet's atmosphere, everyone began arguing on the best coarse of action. Emlyn agreed with Mackenzie, Freya with Cole, and Dustil ended up being mediator. Finally he managed to get everyone to calm down enough to voice the problems with both arguments. They had very little evidence to go on if they wanted to confront the Senator, and Nar Shadaa would most likely be a dead end or a trap.
"I think we should head for Nar Shadaa," Dustil said slowly. Surprisingly no one interrupted. "But we should warn the Republic to watch Sholdan."
"Good with me," Emlyn said after a few moments of silence, "I was just remembering the quality pazaak that I could play on the planet. Not that there's much else to do besides get shot at."
"Whatever," Mackenzie muttered.
"I'm for it," Cole said, grinning.
"Shut up," Mackenzie said, but without much venom.
"I will follow you," Freya told Dustil solemnly.
Emlyn rolled her eyes as Dustil left to send a message to his father and Revan. The rest of the group sat and chatted for a while, and Cole went over what he knew about the Hut: Jobba was a top crime lord that controlled many factions of the Exchange on Nar Shadaa, and was known for his greed, ruthlessness, and his stench. That put everyone in a stellar mood; nothing like a stinking Hut to brighten the darkest day.
Just as the conversation began to lull, Dustil was back, looking very grim. "We have a problem," he started.
"Other than being on the run from murdering Sith, you mean?" Emlyn asked. Dustil just frowned at her.
It has to be serious if he won't shoot something back at me, Emlyn thought, starting to get alarmed.
"I got through to Admiral Onasi, but…" Dustil sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
Emlyn supposed he didn't want the others to know he was related so closely to an important Republic hero. Just as well, Emlyn thought, glaring at Freya. The last thing she wanted was to listen to the dark haired girl gush over Dustil. "Spit it out, Dustil," Emlyn said crossly.
"We've been accused of murder, theft, and betraying the Republic. We've got a bounty on our heads and a warrant for our arrest."
REVIEW PLEASE.
There! I did this chapter in a choppy sort of way due to lack of time. Oh, and I probably won't be able to write much until my spring break, which is in a week and a half. Everyone else gets theirs early, but NO! I don't! And even then I don't know if I'll be with my dad or not, so I STILL might not be able to write much!
Okay, done ranting for now. Until later!