"Davey! I won't tell you again. We're going after her."
Davey pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Charlie, I don't know how many times I have to tell you: it's just not safe. We don't have the manpower, the firepower, the speed—anything to stand up to Metalbeard and his men. All we can do is report Katherine's absence to the authorities and continue our attempts to get in touch with your father."
Charlie glared at Davey. He was sitting on the edge of his clinic bed, feet resting on the floor. He was still being treated—mostly bacta to encourage healing around his new implant and antibiotics to discourage infections and cybernetics rejection—and undergoing physical therapy to get used to using the limb, but was ready to leap out of bed and go after his sister. Not that they could even if they wanted to; JoJo, Skittery, and their hired mechanics were still working on the extensive repairs the ship needed after the battle. "I won't sit around and do nothing while my sister is in the hands of that pirate."
"You're not doing nothing; you're healing," Davey said. "Don't you think that's what Katherine would want?"
Charlie fumbled for a response. "Well, she wouldn't want to stay there for too long. As soon as I'm released and the ship is repaired, we will be going after her."
Davey hesitated. "When you've recovered, we'll revisit the subject."
"That's your way of saying 'no', isn't it?" Charlie said wryly.
Davey chuckled. "It's not like we even know where she is, Charlie. We can't just roam the whole of the Outer Rim searching for a secret pirate base."
"Can't you do anything?" Charlie pleaded. "With your magic? Can't you find her with that?"
"No," said Davey. "That's not the sort of magic I have. My mentor might have been able to… but she's long gone. I don't know anyone with that sort of magic, much less the raw power you'd need for it."
"Isn't there anything you can do?" Charlie pleaded.
"Well…" Davey mused. "There might be one spell…"
.*.*.*.*.*.
Jack grabbed Elmer and pulled him out of the way of a slow-moving airspeeder trying to make it's way along the street. "Be careful, would you?" he scolded, giving the boy a little shake by the scruff of his neck before letting go.
"Sorry," Elmer said sheepishly. "That thing came out of nowhere, though!"
"It's… it's literally moving slower than you are," said Jack, incredulous. "How did you not see it coming?"
"I just didn't," Elmer shrugged.
Jack felt a shiver go down his spine and glanced over his shoulder. On the other side of the street, a tall man with dark hair, wearing a fancy dark cloak, was standing still in the midst of the people flowing around him, staring at Elmer and Jack as they headed for the dock. "Who the heck is that guy?" Jack grumbled, shooting his best glare at the stranger. A lumbering wookiee passed between them, and, when the air was clear, the stranger had vanished.
"Who?" asked Elmer.
"Nothing," Jack rolled his shoulder, trying to shake off his lingering unease. "My imagination."
.*.*.*.*.*.
The cantina was always less busy on the weekends. Most freighters made their runs, and therefore stopovers on Proserpina, during the week as much as possible, and that meant that the majority of the cantina's customers were absent on the off days. Jack and the others didn't complain about this too much; it let them sit and heckle Albert in relative peace, with only the few local regulars around to hear it.
Today was different, though. Jack and Race had picked up an extra shift at the dock, and agreed to meet Elmer for lunch at the cantina afterwards. When they walked in, Jack could have sworn that the tall, dark-haired, cloaked stranger was seated in a shadowy corner at the back of the bar.
"Who is that guy?" Jack whispered, nudging Race with his elbow and nodding at the stranger.
Race followed his gaze, brow furrowing at sight of the stranger. "No idea. I think I've seen him around the past few days, though. Maybe he just moved here or something. We should go say hi and make him feel welc"—
"Absolutely not," Jack grabbed him by the arm and steered him towards Elmer and Albert at the bar. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to talk to strangers?"
"No, not really."
"Hey," Elmer grinned at them.
"Hey," said Jack, planting Race on a stool and taking a seat next to him. "Al, who's the new guy?"
"Not sure," Albert shrugged, pouring him a glass of spotchka. "I've seen him around a few times over the past few days. Today's the first time he's ordered anything, though."
"Maybe he doesn't like crowds," Elmer suggested. "It can get pretty packed in here during the week."
"That's true," Race nodded.
"I don't care; he's creepy," Jack hunched his shoulders up and leaned forward, unconsciously making himself as small as possible against the bar. He felt like someone was staring holes into his back, and didn't like the sensation. He was half-tempted to get up and move seats, just to be out of the stranger's direct line of sight, or to be able to keep the man in his own peripheral, but opted to just squirm uncomfortably on his stool.
The three of them chattered together for a while, Albert coming and going between serving other customers, but Jack couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Every time he glanced over his shoulder, the stranger was still there, sitting in the shadows and watching from under his deep hood. When Jack, Race, and Elmer finally said their goodbyes to Albert and got up to leave, however, the stranger's table was empty.
Jack shook off the odd feeling that had plagued him the whole afternoon. I must be imagining things, he told himself firmly. No need to be so paranoid, Jack. What would someone like that want with you, anyways?
Outside, the smell of oil and ship's exhaust fumes assaulted their noses, in sharp opposition to the scents of beer and greasy food that had filled the cantina. Race physically recoiled, bringing his hand up to cover his nose in the hopes of blocking out some of the harsh smells. "Ugh," he groaned. "I hate it here."
"If I could live anywhere in the galaxy, it would be somewhere with lots of fresh air," Elmer sighed.
Jack smiled to himself. "Keep your head out of the clouds. You have to focus on where you are if you ever want to get where you're going. Work hard enough, and you'll be able to afford to get offworld someday." He stared longingly up at the sky, the first of the three moons just beginning to appear off at the horizon. "Offworld further than Crorix, anyways," he murmured.
The three of them lived fairly near each other, only a few streets apart. Elmer and his partner had a tiny apartment at the top of a block of flats just before the tunnels into the city's underlevels. Race and Albert lived just inside the underlevel, while Jack lived a few streets down the tunnel. The only one of them who had actually grown up on Proserpina, he didn't mind the underlevels as much as Race and Elmer, although he did dream of someday living on a planet where he could see the sky out his window.
The streets weren't busy; between the lack of visiting ships to provide their crews to fill them and the fact that most locals were either already in the cantinas and taverns for their own revels or settled in for a comfortable night at home after a long work week, there were few other pedestrians around them. They were just reaching the point where Elmer would split off to head home and Jack and Race would enter the tunnel to their level when, quite suddenly, the world around them seemed to… slow.
The other pedestrians began moving more and more slowly, as though they were walking through honey—in fact, the air around them even took on a golden sheen beyond just the warm glow of the sunset. The dull roar of airbusses moving between the upper levels faded away, deepening in pitch as the vibrations slowed.
"Jack?" Elmer said softly, backing towards his friends. "Race?"
"What's going on?" Race asked.
"No idea," Jack murmured.
"Why aren't we slowing too?" Elmer asked, looking down at his hands.
"Because you're in a time bubble," came a voice from behind them.
The trio whipped around to find the hooded stranger standing behind them. He lifted his hood and dropped it down to rest against his back, revealing a head of dark, wavy hair and a grim smile. "Hello. My name is David. I'm a professional mage."
"Mage?" Race snorted. "No-one believes in magic."
"Uh, Race…" Jack gestured vaguely at the slowed-down, honey-colored world around them. "I think we can guess that he's probably telling the truth there."
"Fair enough," Race muttered.
"What do you want with us?" Elmer asked.
"Ah, right," David nodded. He fished in his pocket and produced a small sphere of glowing purple light. "I don't suppose any of you know what this is?"
"Magic?" Race guessed.
"Well, yes," David said. "More specifically, it's a spell called 'In Time of Need'. Its goal is to find the tools to complete some sort of seemingly-impossible task."
"What does that have to do with us?" Jack asked.
"If you would let me finish instead of interrupting, I'd explain," David retorted. "I cast this spell three days ago. It took me a while to narrow down what exactly it was drawing me towards, but I finally came to the conclusion that it has, for some reason, chosen the three of you."
"Are you calling us tools?" Race asked, eyes narrowed.
"Wh—no? At least, that wasn't my intention. I apologize if my phrasing indicated otherwise." David sighed and released the ball of light. It floated up and away from him, towards the three others. It paused for a moment to hover in front of each of them in turn, then suddenly shot off to circle them a few times before zooming back towards David, vanishing into his chest just over his heart. "That settles it," he sniffed, brushing his hands off. "Apparently, the three of you are the only people who can help us."
"Help who with what exactly?" Jack asked.