Wow this chapter ended up longer than I thought it would be.
So i gotta keep things short cause i'm in a hurry/on vacation: I had a lot of fun with this chapter, yes you should be worried, please go like my facebook page if you havent allready and you have a facebook page (AngelDesaray of Fanfiction), and guess what, I'm soon to be a published author! I'll tell you guys when my book is offically on the market, how does that sound?
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Enjoy!
(One Month Later, Three Days Ago)
"Again? Seriously?"
Jezebel looked up at the annoyed tone in her friend's voice, glancing around the dirty cantina. Well, compared to the rest of Nar Shaddaa, it was actually as clean as it was going to get. Over in the corner, a haggard, bearded man was getting the crap beat out of him by three Trandoshans. Still, in between every blow he'd straighten up as much as he could, grin, and goad them in some new way, earning a new beating. Jezebel shook her head.
"That's the fifth time this week; just this week!" her friend, Azalea, said with disgust and a shake of her head. "Deadbeat drunk."
"We've seen plenty of deadbeats around here Azalea; I thought you could see the difference between a deadbeat and a man that's been through the Nine Corellian Hells by now," Jezebel scolded. "He wants them to hurt him."
"Yeah, cause he's crazy," Azalea said pointedly.
"No, because he's hurting already, and the physical pain's better than the emotional," Jezebel answered, smiling just slightly and shaking her head. Azalea snorted, pulling one of Jezebel's blue lekkus.
"You've been spending too much time around the drunks," she told her seriously, leaning forward in her barstool seat. Jezebel leaned across the counter, grabbing the Corellian Whiskey bottle that was still sitting on the counter.
"It happens when you're a bartender; you learn how to read people," she whispered like she was telling a secret. Azalea chuckled, grabbing her apron off of the seat next to her and tying it back around her waist.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I've got to keep being a waitress to the still somewhat sober people while you serve the desperate drunks; have fun!" Azalea hopped off of the stool, gave a little wave, and then walked away, her light pink lekkus swaying from side to side.
The young twi'lek smiled a little before she turned her attention back to the haggard man that was getting beat up in the corner while no one batting an eye. Several people looked right over the scene with disinterest; it was actually rather common to see someone getting beat up in these cantinas. Jezebel sighed, staring at the man sympathetically as the Trandoshans finally managed to beat him down and keep him down. The bearded man stayed on the floor for several long minutes, and Jezebel kept a close eye on him while she served the others, only halfway paying attention to her customers. Just as she was about to call Verrel to go over there and see if he was still alive, the man stirred, slowly pushing himself up off of the floor. He stumbled over to the bar, leaning heavily against the counter as he pushed himself into the seat. Jezebel had to force herself not to wince at the bloodied state he was in; there was even blood matted and starting to dry in his shabby black beard that looked rather new. His black hair was past his ears, but still above his shoulders, falling in roguish waves and curls. Despite the blood, he was actually rather handsome in a rugged sort of way.
The thing she loved most about him though was his eyes; they were so blue, and in the rare moments when they weren't hazy with misery, grief, pain, or liquor, they twinkled and shone brighter then aquamarines. Still, Jezebel had yet to get a name from the man in the week and a half he'd been in the area; it was really starting to bother her.
Jezebel approached him, concern wrinkling her forehead. "Hey...are you all right?"
He grunted quietly in response. "I'll be fine..." he murmured, lifting his head off of the counter. "The usual..."
Jezebel cocked an eyebrow at him. "Are you sure you don't want something else, like Dodbri Whiskey? It's still strong..."
The man shook his head. "No, I need my usual," he grunted. Jezebel sighed, pulling out the three bottles she needed to make his usual. The memories must have been haunting him again; he never said just what those memories were, but Jezebel could tell when they came because he would allow himself to be hurt more and he would drink until he was completely gone.
He watched her with the hazy blue eyes as she mixed together Noonian Fixer with Corellian and Tevraki Whiskey, and she reluctantly gave him the drink. "I'm just saying, with how many times you've had it this week; shouldn't you try something else? Noonian Fixer alone is powerful."
"I'll be fine," the man assured her, taking the drink from her thankfully and taking a large swig from the glass. Jezebel had learned long ago to give him a larger glass of the mixture so that she wouldn't have to keep mixing the drink over and over. He sighed in content, relaxing visibly as the Tevraki part of the drink warmed him, the strength of the Noonian hit him, and the Corellian taste hit the senses. He did have a fine taste in alcohol, she could give him that. And despite the strengths of the drinks, Jezebel had noticed that it took a while to actually start affecting him, and even when it did he seemed much more alert than he should be, almost like the drunkenness was being faked.
After the alcohol took effect, they fell into their normal conversation. "So, any new strangers or persons of interest wander into the cantina recently?" the man asked, twirling the glass idly in his hands before he took another swift drink. Jezebel studied him for a moment. Now that she got a good look at him, she was sure that she'd only ever seen him in three or four outfits...the sleek but worn all black one was the one he wore most often...
She shrugged. "No, not really, nothing beside your normal bounty hunters," she said nonchalantly. Her eyes flickered over to the hidden room in the back. "Well...there is one person that just came into town...though I'm not really supposed to say anything..."
The man chuckled, taking another quick gulp. "Oh, who's a deadbeat like me going to tell?"
"You're not a deadbeat," Jezebel immediately protested. The man leaned forward, a surprisingly secretive smile dancing across his face.
"I think there are plenty of people here who would agree to disagree with you," he pointed out.
"That may be true but I can tell there's more to you than what you let people see," she argued. The man cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Oh really?" he asked, taking a slower drink to finish off his first glass. "Keep the drinks coming, please," he added as a side thought. Jezebel pulled out the three bottles again, keeping them on the counter this time after she'd mixed his drink.
"I notice things," she said evasively, earning a chuckle from the man and a real smile, one of the ones that coaxed a temporary twinkle into his eyes before he settled back into seriousness. He took another drink.
"So you're observant...tell me, what's been going on in the galaxy lately? I've been otherwise preoccupied," the man asked, grinning in a half-drunk way.
Jezebel shrugged. "It's been rather quiet. The most fuss has been over that Luke Skywalker fellow—he disappeared without a trace about a month ago and there's still no sign of him, and they're still fussing about it. There's been a lot of stuff come to light about him recently, like the fact he turned down returning to the Jedi Order; still, he's not as bad of a guy as people keep making him out to be. He even had a daughter!" Jezebel suddenly became very quiet. "I feel sorry for him, for what happened to her; a terrible thing really, absolutely horrible..."
The man was frowning, a strange, mourning expression on his face. Jezebel brushed it off as having to do with the alcohol. "How'd they find out about all of that?" he asked, his speech a little slurred.
Jezebel shrugged. "Some lady from the Alderaan tragedy was recording when there was this spat with another Alderaan rescue on the ship Skywalker was on, and apparently the Jedi have a leak. From what I heard the Jedi Grandmaster has been going through weeding out those leaks; he even suspended one of the Jedi Council Members from what I heard."
"That is interesting," the man said solemnly. The seriousness was gone so quickly Jezebel wondered if she'd imagined it as he leaned forward again. "So what about this very important secret person?" he asked with a sly, tipsy smirk. Jezebel laughed softly, glancing down.
"Oh, all right, I guess it won't hurt...just don't tell anyone, all right?" she said in a low voice, leaning in so she could whisper as softly as possible to not be overheard but still be heard by the man. When he nodded and took another drink, she continued. "There's a man who came here earlier this morning; he's on a special mission you could say, to see the crime lords here on Nar Shaddaa. I've heard a few whispers that he was sent here by Judro, the leader of the Insurgence."
"Is that so?" the man asked, tipping his glass once again. "That's someone rather important then..."
Jezebel shrugged. "He's only here for a few days, and he'll be in his room most of the time he's on the planet."
"Where's he staying?" the man asked. Jezebel was about to ask why he was so curious when the man hiccupped, and she brushed off the questions as the beginning of drunken curiosity. The questions would be flowing freely ranging from ridiculous to obvious soon.
"I'm not sure. Some people say he's at the Acklay Head Hotel, others say he's staying at Nexu Inn...he's only here every now and then, and when he comes in..." Jezebel looked around to make sure no one was listening. "He comes in a back door to be served privately in a hidden room. I don't even know how to get in there, and I've been working here for several years."
"Years? A sweet girl like you, here?" the man asked, taking another drink and swaying slightly in his seat. Jezebel frowned in concern for the man; he was obviously seriously injured and yet here he was downing the strong drink mixture like a man coming from Tatooine downed water.
"Hey, take it easy," she said in concern, touching his arm. The man leaned forward, settling down again and holding the cup firmly in his hands.
"Y'know, all the time I've been 'ere, I've yet to learn your name," he said. Jezebel couldn't help but be puzzled by the fact that he spoke with a flawless, drunken slur, yet his blue eyes seemed alert and attentive.
"I don't know yours either," Jezebel pointed out. The man chuckled.
"Fair enough, fair enough; though if I did give you a name, I couldn't give you my name, because giving you my name would put you in danger. I don't want to put you in danger; you've been so kind to me while I've been here," the man said in a nonchalant tone. When he looked at her, however, she could almost feel the weight of seriousness in what he'd said.
"How would your name be enough to put me in trouble?" she scoffed, trying to keep a light tone. The man shifted in his seat, leaning forward with an intensity she'd never seen from him before.
"Because, I have a lot of enemies, and knowing my name would immediately tell them that you were associated with me. They don't care how, or how long, or how little or how much you might have meant to me; all they care is that you knew me, talked to me, came in contact with me, and it will get to me if they attack you because you knew me. If you don't know my name, then you don't know me, and you won't be associated with me." When he was done, the man leaned back a little, finishing off his glass with one quick gulp. "But for now, you can call me Lirik. May I please know your name?" he asked, the drunken slur gone, his eyes bright and alert as he studied her so closely she was suddenly very conscious of herself.
"J...Jezebel," she managed to stay, entranced. Who was this man?
At the sound of her name, he stiffened a little, and his eyes flashed with insufferable pain and immeasurable grief. He wordlessly held out his glass, and Jezebel quickly filled up his glass. He downed the entire thing in one quick round, sitting there silently for several long moments before he finally answered her.
"Jezebel...I once knew a young girl with a name very similar to yours. She was a twi'lek too; a very lively, independent one as well. Her name was Jeza," he said softly, his voice breaking on the girl's name. He shook himself, turning his attention back on her and reaching out a hand to clasp one of her hands in both of his. "I cannot thank you enough for the kindness that you've shown me here; I wish I could do more to pay you back."
"More?" Jezebel asked confused. The man—Lirik, she had to remember, he wanted to be called—ignored her question. Instead, he asked his own question.
"Do you have family here? A loved one, perhaps? Siblings?"
Jezebel nodded. "Yeah, my mother, and a little sister...I...I don't have a boyfriend...the only friend I have here really is Azalea."
Lirik nodded slowly, and Jezebel suddenly felt a pouch pushed into her hand. She glanced down at her hand, but Lirik tightened his grip. "Don't look. In there is enough credits for you, your mother, your sister, and Azalea to travel to and start a new life on Coruscant in a good part of the planet, not the slums or underworld. Get out of here; you can have such a better life, and you're a wonderful person who deserves it." Jezebel opened and closed her mouth several times, astounded and thankful beyond words. Lirik continued. "As much as I hate to ask more of you, I must ask that you also pass along three messages for me; in the pouch are also three disks, marked accordingly as I'm about to tell you. Two of the disks I want you to give to either Anakin Skywalker or Padme Naberrie Amidala Skywalker. I suggest Padme, as she may be easier to reach than Anakin Skywalker, but one of the disks is for Anakin Skywalker alone, as its information that the Jedi Order needs desperately that only I could provide. The third is for a woman named Mara Jade; if you give it to either of the Skywalkers they can get it to her as well. Tell them that I'm safe, I love and miss them, and to stop having me followed or they're going to give me away. That's all I need is for you to get those disks and that one message to them, that's all I ask."
Jezebel's eyes widened in realization and she gasped. "Lu—"
Before she could finish he cut her off, waving one of his fingers discreetly out of sight of any onlookers. "You don't know who I really am, you don't know my real identity; you don't want to know."
What had she been about to say? "I don't know who you really are, and I don't want to know..." she repeated back, her mind suddenly foggy.
"You're not going to tell anyone about this conversation; you'll keep it to yourself no matter what anyone says or does," he said further. Jezebel nodded in acceptance
"I won't tell anyone about this conversation, no matter what anyone does," she replied. Lirik nodded.
"I'm sorry I had to use a mind trick," he murmured, holding her gaze and keeping a firm hold on her hand. "Get your friend and family, leave this place, and start your new life; make the best out of it. You deserve better."
The hazy fog thickened over her mind, and when her mind was once again clear, Lirik was gone. Jezebel's hand tightened over the pouch in her hand, and she was overcome with the need to do as Lirik had suggested. She set the bottle down on the table, pocketed the pouch, and went over to where Azalea was currently fighting off a drunken customer.
No one noticed the haggard, deadbeat drunk slip out the back of the cantina with the practiced ease of a perfectly sober Jedi. They were too entertained by a fight near the front between a man who knew he'd been bumped into and a man who had no idea what he was talking about.
(Present)
Anakin Skywalker had a spring in his step as he approached the Senate Building. While he was at the Jedi Temple today, he'd received a message from his wife telling him that one of her contacts had found Luke on Nar Shaddaa and had managed to snag a holopic of him as well. He'd dropped what he was doing on an understanding Obi-Wan Kenobi almost immediately and took his leave, promising to be back as soon as possible.
Things had been...tense inside of the Jedi Temple. After the leak to the media about Luke's life the past five or so years, Anakin had been swift to deal punishment out to the responsible Jedi Council Member. What had disgusted him the most was the fact that Dain Ghast—the Jedi that had been giving Luke grief ever since he'd returned—hadn't even regretted breaking such an old, respectable rule of the Jedi Council simply because he'd thrown dirt out there about Luke. Anakin had been all too happy to throw the man out of the Council, and suspend him from the Order for an indefinite amount of time—most likely until Anakin could tolerate seeing his face again.
Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Mace Windu had also recently headed a select team whose purpose was to find the traitors among them that Luke had hinted at. Only certain council members were aware of the effort, as they had no idea how high up the corruption truly ran, especially after the fiasco with Ghast. So far, they'd only found and arrested two. It was getting harder to keep the investigation quiet though, as whispers were sure to start spreading.
On the war front, things had been unusually quiet on Judro's side. Anakin was certain that he was preparing things and organizing treaties underground, but he was too preoccupied with the Alderaan relief effort and with the rebellions they were trying to quell and the planets they were trying to take back. He did have some experience with tracking rebellions, but that experience had also been while he was a Sith Lord, and many of the techniques he'd used then he couldn't use now because of their...extreme nature.
Other than that, the family was taking Luke's sudden departure...as well as to be expected. Mara, Leia, and Han had all departed to try and hunt Luke down, but, respecting Luke's wishes and realizing that going after him now would only reveal him and put him in more danger than he was already in, Anakin and Padme had not told Mara and the others that they knew where Luke was. Besides, it usually took a while before they could relocate him, and whenever they did the information was always a little old and it was most likely that Luke had already moved again. He never went by the same alias either; every planet brought a new alias with it.
There had been a few times when Anakin's and Padme's contacts had noted that Mara, Leia, and Han arrived on a planet Luke had been on only days, sometimes hours after he'd left. They did have a vague sense of his trail, but not enough to catch up to him yet.
Anakin nodded as he passed a group of Senators. Nearly thirty years since the twins were born, and Padme was still finding ways to slip into the Senate building and be a part of politics. Her time as Senator was way past due, and she'd already served as a Representative, and now spent a lot of her time acting as an assistant. There were rumors that she would run for Coruscant Senator or Representative soon, but as far as Anakin was aware that wasn't really on her mind.
At least, it had never come up in conversation.
Anakin grinned when he spotted Padme a few paces ahead of him, talking in serious tones with a few Representatives and Senators. When she spotted her husband waiting patiently for her, however, she swiftly excused herself and beckoned for him to join her in one of the nearby unoccupied rooms. As soon as the door slid shut behind her, Padme hooked her arms around Anakin's neck.
"I'm so glad that they found him, and that he's still safe. It's been so long since someone spotted him I was starting to get worried," Padme said into Anakin's shoulder. Anakin rubbed her back reassuringly.
"Luke's strong, Padme, and despite everything that's happening I'm sure he knows what he's doing. He knows how to hide himself," Anakin assured her. He pulled back. "So what did Verrel say?"
Padme sighed. "He's been a regular in their cantina; Verrel's kept his distance so he doesn't alert him, and has mostly stayed out of his business." Padme winced suddenly. "He's apparently been acting as a drunk that gets into a lot of trouble, and he's been beaten up many times after goading several people into fights."
Anakin nodded, sighing. "Sounds like the perfect cover in a cantina on Nar Shaddaa; no one's going to really care what happens to him, so no one will pay him any attention. What about the picture? How does he look?"
Padme pulled a small datapad out of her robes; apparently she already had a holodisk inside it. She was smiling. "Apparently he's grown a beard."
She activated the datapad, and an image appeared before them of a man Anakin almost didn't recognize as Luke; he wouldn't have had he already known it was Luke. He'd grown his hair out as well as grown the small beard, but it appeared he'd also dyed his hair black at some point in time. He looked haggard and worn, but his eyes showed that he was alert and aware of the world around him. He also looked thinner than when they'd last seen him. Anakin sincerely hoped he hadn't contracted one of those horrible diseases that were rampant all over the planet.
"Well, we know he's alive...and well hidden," Anakin said, pulling his wife in close in a one-armed hug and staring at the image in front of him Luke was sitting at a bar talking to a twi'lek in the image, a glass in hand.
"I miss him Ani," Padme whispered. Anakin held her a little tighter.
"I know Padme...I miss him too," Anakin responded in a low murmur. The door on their left slid open, and Padme slipped the image away almost too fast for the eye to follow. Bail Organa stood in the doorway, looking mildly surprised.
"Oh, there you are Padme, and Master Skywalker, always a pleasure to see you," he said respectfully, giving a little bow as he spoke. "There's a girl here who insists upon seeing you Padme, and she won't leave until she does. She says she has a few messages to deliver."
Padme frowned. "Did she say who from?"
Bail shrugged. "No she didn't, and whenever we ask who gave her the message she starts acting strange, saying she doesn't know who he really is. Said something along the lines of he couldn't tell her or she'd be in danger...it's all rather strange. I was going to insist we wait until a Jedi is around, just to be safe, but I see Master Skywalker is here all ready, so we don't need to worry about that anymore."
"I'm coming," Padme said with a frown. Anakin shifted uncomfortably.
"Are you sure? It could be a trap..." Anakin said doubtfully.
"I'm sure I'm perfectly safe," Padme said, though she didn't sound so sure of herself. "Even if it is, I'll have my Jedi Protector with me, so I won't need to worry."
Anakin sighed. "I'm getting too old for your antics."
Padme laughed at that. "If I'm not too old for them, then you're not too old for them either."
"Fair enough."
Bail led them to the front of the Senate Building where a young blue skinned twi'lek woman stood waiting anxiously, eyes scanning the pillars of the Senate Building long before Anakin and Padme were within eyesight. When they did come into view, she visibly perked up, barely restraining herself from rushing forward.
"Master Skywalker! Miss Skywalker!" she called out, waving a hand to grab their attention. Anakin appraised her in amusement.
"I don't sense any danger. I think she does just have a message to deliver. But who do you think..." he trailed off as Padme suddenly slapped his chest.
"Anakin, I recognize her!" Padme said breathlessly, rushing forward ahead of Bail and Anakin. Anakin started after her, puzzled for several long moments as he appraised the young twi'lek again. Suddenly it dawned on him; she was the twi'lek in the picture they'd just been looking at of Luke! Anakin's speed doubled with that revelation, and he eagerly rushed forward.
Padme was there first. "You met him, didn't you? You have a message from our son?" she asked excitedly. The twi'lek frowned, her eyes glazing over just slightly as her brow furrowed in confusion.
"I...I don't know his name...I don't know who he is. He told me to call him Lirik, that he couldn't tell me his real name because it would put me in danger," she muttered, a hand to her head. Anakin gently touched Padme's shoulder.
"Jedi Mind Trick," he told her gently. He placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "What's the message you were told to give us?"
The girl's gaze cleared, and she reached into her pack. "I have a disk for Anakin Skywalker's eyes only, a disk for Padme Naberrie Amidala Skywalker and Anakin Skywalker, and another one for a Mara Jade. I was told I could give Mara Jade's to one of you two and you'd be able to get it to her," she told them, pulling each disk out respectively. Anakin took all three of them from her, but it seemed she wasn't done. "I was also told to tell you that he's safe, he misses and loves you, and to stop having him followed or you're going to give him away."
Anakin nodded. "Thank you so much for getting this to us."
She nodded. "Anything for Lirik. He was very kind, and not at all what everyone thought he was. He gave me enough credits for my family to move here and start a new life, as well as my friend Azalea. I'm in his debt."
Padme's expression softened. "I hope you find everything you're looking for. Thank you."
The girl nodded. "It was my pleasure." With that, she turned and left in a hurry, disappearing in a matter of minutes.
Anakin shuffled through the disks, looking at each one curiously. "I wonder..." he murmured to himself. He glanced back up at Padme. "Come on, let's go home; I have the feeling these are very for your eyes only in content."
As Padme followed him, she looked thoughtfully in the direction the girl had disappeared. "I thought Jedi Mind Tricks were only temporary?" she asked as she got into the speeder. Anakin allowed himself a glance in the direction Padme was staring before he answered.
"Luke's grown very powerful in the Force...very powerful..."
He left it at that.
As they made their way to the apartment, Padme fiddled with the disks. "How are we going to get this to Mara? Do you know where they are right now?"
"If their luck continues, they'll be on Nar Shaddaa soon, but you don't need to worry about that, I can get it too her."
"Has Leia contacted you recently?" Padme asked. Anakin shook his head.
"Not since they checked Tatooine, no," he admitted. "You?"
"The same," Padme said with a sigh. "I wish Luke hadn't left in the middle of the night without saying goodbye."
"If he had done anything else we would have stopped him."
"And that would be a bad thing?" Padme snapped. "Anakin, he's going to get himself killed!"
"Padme," Anakin said firmly, pulling out of the flow of traffic and turning in the seat to look her firmly in the eyes. "Luke is almost less than a year away from turning thirty; he's not a little boy anymore. He's a fully grown man perfectly capable of handling himself. He's already been out there undercover for about a month, and he hasn't been caught."
"I know that Anakin, but—" Padme started to say, but Anakin shook his head and cut her off.
"He handled himself just fine through a rebellion without us, and the five years in exile he made it through without us taking care of another being. I know what's happened in the past, but Luke's much stronger now than he was then. He knows what he's doing, and we have to trust him with that."
"What if he falls back to the dark side? Anakin, this is a revenge mission and you know it," Padme replied passionately. Anakin gently cupped her cheeks in his hands.
"I trust him, Padme. He knows the risks of falling again, and he isn't willing to pay that price. He may be tempted, but I believe that he won't fall. He'd die before he fell."
"I'm afraid of that too," Padme whispered.
"Padme, we've had this conversation a thousand times. This is something he has to do alone, and we have to let him go and trust him to come back to us safely."
Padme kept her eyes trained down on her lap. "He's just as reckless as you used to be."
"He used to be, before everything happened," Anakin corrected her.
"He still can be...the same goes for you," she muttered, but there was a slight curl of a smile to her lips, and Anakin knew that once again he'd won this argument for Luke. He turned his attention back to driving them home, smiling to himself.
"I can't help it, it's in my nature no matter how old I get," Anakin chuckled as he angled them back towards the apartment.
(Nar Shaddaa, One Day Ago)
"Please! Don't hurt me! I-I-I don't know what you want, I'm nobody, nothing! I have nothing to give you!"
Deimos Fenn cowered in the corner of the dark alley behind the cantina he regularly visited, pressed back against the wall as far away from the Trandoshan, Rodian, and Aqualish that had jumped him when he'd come out of the secret room. His supposedly elite bodyguards lay dead on the ground, taken out silently without him even noticing. Now he was staring down the barrel of a blaster, hand inching towards his own weapon out of sight as he played the part of the pitiful victim.
"That's not what we hear," the Trandoshan hissed out in amusement, reptilian tongue flickering in and out of its mouth. "We heard that you're some big shot negotiator for that Judro fellow leading the insurgence. Word is we could get a pretty credit or two for you."
"I wonder who would pay more; the Republic or the Insurgence," the Aqualish chortled.
"Don't even think about running," the beady eyed Rodian said suddenly, kicking Deimos' hand before he could snatch his blaster up. "If you run we'll have to shoot you and loot whatever's on you right now. That wouldn't be good for any of us; you're worth more alive, and I'm sure you would like to live."
Deimos snarled at the Rodian as the Aqualish took the blaster from Deimos. "You're not going to get away with this. You'll pay dearly for what you've done here."
"You think so?" the Trandoshan jeered. While he had the element of surprise, Deimos suddenly launched himself at the Rodian, knocking the blaster out of his hand and tackling the Rodian to the floor. While they were still stunned he launched himself at the Aqualish next, aiming to do the same. By then the Trandoshan had regained his senses and started firing, raining a deadly hail down upon them. Before Deimos could be hit, however, there was a new element added to the fray.
A blaster bolt suddenly buzzed by from above, nailing the Trandoshan right in the chest. The giant reptile of a man went down with a strangled growl, and before his body even hit the ground another blaster bold whizzed through the air and shot the Rodian in the hand before the Rodian could grab its blaster. The Aqualish, desperate not to get shot, grabbed Deimos around the neck while the man was confused and used him as a human shield, pressing a blaster into his head.
"Don't shoot, or he dies!" the Aqualish shouted out, his gaze darting blindly from side to side as he tried to figure out what was going on.
A figure jumped to the ground from above, lithe as a nexu stalking its pray as it straightened up. A Black Sun Ace fighter helmet covered the figure's face completely, though Deimos had the suspicion that this being was a mercenary who'd stumbled across the helmet, not an actual member of the Black Sun crime syndicate.
The figure leveled its Model 57 blaster pistol on the Aqualish fearlessly. "If you leave now, you may end up lucky enough to leave with your life," the figure threatened in an obviously male voice.
"No way, this is our business, our little kidnapping; you just go about your way and mind your own business, you hear? Go, or I'll blow his brains out!" the Aqualish screamed in Deimos' ear. The helmeted man took a step forward. "I'm warning you!"
Another step...
Deimos heard the click as the Aqualish prepared to fire, but in the next second a flash of red buzzed past Deimos' face, close enough he felt the heat, and the Aqualish fell to the ground, dead.
Appearing unfazed, the helmeted man holstered his blaster in one swift motion, his gaze roaming over the dead men and quivering Rodian in the alley before he returned his gaze to Deimos.
"You need to get better bodyguards," the man grunted, kicking the blaster away from the Rodian as the Rodian tried once again to reach for the blaster. The Rodian yelped at being caught and backed as far away as possible, taking up the corner Deimos had occupied not too long ago. "Word of the wise; the cowering act only works in some cases," the man added.
Now that there wasn't a firefight over his life going on, Deimos had the chance to get a good look at the man. There was a A295 sniper rifle slung over his back, the blaster pistol in a worn holster at his hip, a pouch at his side bulged to suspiciously suggest thermal detonators, and the man was wearing all black from his worn and scuffed boots to his black shirt. His hands were calloused to show he was used to heavy work, and the entire feel of the man screamed military at Deimos.
"Who are you?" Deimos asked suspiciously. The man appraised him for several moments before he spoke.
"Lirik Krin," the man said finally. He nudged the Rodian with his boot. "Get out of here, before I change my mind," he threatened, and the Rodian was gone in the next moment.
"That's a lovely alias, but I want your real name," Deimos demanded. The man's helmeted head swung around to face him again, and Deimos could practically feel the heat from the man's gaze.
"So he's smart enough to recognize a fake name; that's one point in your favor," the man said in amusement. "Fine then; Cal Berilen. And you are Deimos Fenn."
As the man—Cal—came to stand in front of Deimos, he removed the helmet to reveal nearly shoulder length, wavy black hair, a scruffy black beard, and startling blue eyes. He held himself like a true warrior, and being one of Judro's representatives, he'd run into quite a few of those.
"You people are a hard lot to track when you decide to go underground," Cal continued, tucking the helmet under his arm and shifting his weight to one foot. "I've been looking for you for quite some time; not you specifically, just any official of Judro's men...I'm looking to join your cause."
"A little late coming, aren't you?" Deimos asked suspiciously.
Cal grinned. "Let's just say I was a little delayed by circumstance."
Deimos narrowed his eyes at what that insinuated. Was this man some sort of bounty hunter or assassin? He certainly was good with a blaster, and Deimos shuddered to know how good with that sniper rifle he was. Deimos kept his negotiating mask firmly in place as he continued with his questions.
"And just how would you plan on helping our cause? What could you possibly offer?" Deimos asked.
Cal was unfazed, an equally stoic expression on his face. "To start, I believe a job just opened up," Cal stated, a small smirk curling across his face as he inclined his head suggestively towards the dead bodyguards. "But only to start. I consider myself an honest man and you should be well aware that if I see an opportunity to move up, I will take it."
Deimos' gaze slid over to the dead bodyguards on the alley floor, and Cal added one last comment. "I can assure you if you don't take my offer now, you'll be dead by morning. Besides, you'd be hard pressed to find a better offer; I'm willing to work...for free."
Unfortunately, Cal had said the magic words. Cursing the fact Cal made a good point and the stupidity of his late guards, Deimos grasped Cal's outstretched hand. "Fine," he ground out, vowing to keep an eye on this stranger while Cal was under Deimos' employment. "Deal."
Cal grinned, his eyes sparkling secretively as he placed the helmet back on his head. "Then it's settled. So; where do you need me?"
(Present)
Anakin slipped the holodisk into its place in the holoplayer at the apartment, settling back onto the couch beside his wife. "Let's see what Luke has to say to us after he just up and left and we've had to tail him for a month," he said humorously. An image of their bearded son appeared, with Luke glancing around the room he was in before he spoke.
"I'm not sure how much time I've got, so I'll make this as brief as I can," Luke said seriously. "It's been a little less than a month now since I left. Despite what you may think, I have noticed the people you've had following me. I can still sense their attention on me even when they're not visibly watching me. I appreciate your concern and I know you just want to at least have the comfort of knowing where I am, but you can't have me followed anymore. I'm finally getting into Judro's ranks soon, and I can't afford it if your informants give me away. You might actually see me after this, possibly, depending on what I end up doing to blend in; please, I know you're worried, but you have to trust me with this and trust what I do, even if it may seem that I've lose my way at times."
Luke sighed. "I miss you...all of you; I'm still not coming back though. I've come this far, I can't turn back now. I'm still sorry for leaving without telling anyone; I know that had to hurt some of you but it was the only way I knew I was going to get away." Luke leaned back, pulling the other two disks into view. "About these...one of them is for Mara; please get it to her as soon as you can. The other...Father, it's a list of the names I've remembered of the Jedi I turned while I was Eius. I'm sure that will help in your search. I'm sorry but this is also the only time you're going to hear from me until I'm done. I'll come home safe, I promise, you'll see me soon. I love you."
With that, Luke leaned forward and clicked off the holo. Anakin was suddenly holding the disk for himself much tighter, and he had a sudden itch to look at its contents. Padme had a forlorn look on her face, staring sadly at the spot Luke had been in.
"Anakin..." Padme finally said slowly. "You don't think...you don't think he's posing as a bounty hunter or assassin or something...do you? He wouldn't put himself in a position like that, would he?"
As much as Anakin wanted to assure Padme, he had a feeling that was exactly what Luke was doing. He sighed, twirling the holodisk with the list in his fingers for a few moments. "If he wants to get close to Judro, he has to be a person of interest. Being some random pilot or foot soldier isn't going to do him much good...I'm afraid that might be exactly what he's doing."
"Anakin, you know what will happen if he chooses that! He'll be forced to kill people, he'll have more deaths hanging over his head, he'll destroy whatever proof he's put forth that he's changed, he—"
"Will do whatever he has to do to ensure the safety of the Republic," Anakin said firmly. "He doesn't care how people see him anymore, so long as he knows what he's doing is right. They can mock and scorn him all he wants, but if he knows that what he's done has helped the Republic in anyway, he'll do it. Not to mention this is the only way to keep us all safe in his mind, so he doesn't care what the cost is in his mind. I trust him to know where his line is though; he knows what price is too high of a price."
"Does he?" Padme asked seriously. Anakin clasped his wife's cheek in his hand tenderly.
"Padme; it's Luke. If I was worried about anyone in this kind of situation it would be Leia since she's the one who inherited most of my personality," Anakin said seriously.
Padme shook her head, allowing Anakin to pull her into a tight hug and rest his chin on top of her head. "I hope he really does know what he's doing; I can't see a way he walks out of this unscathed."
"He never said he'd come out without so much as a scratch; I never said that either. Both of us are well aware that this is going to cost him. Whether it will cost him physically or emotionally has yet to be seen."
(Nar Shaddaa, Present)
"I know what you're saying, Guillio. What I'm saying is that it's not good enough."
Deimos leaned closer to the weapons dealer in a threatening way, flickering his eyes from side to side to glance around the musty warehouse. "And I am not someone that you want to cross; no matter how many guards you bring with you to our meetings."
Guillio snorted, folding his bulging arms over his chest while his six bodyguards flexed their muscles. He stared down his crooked nose with his one good eye at Deimos, who stood alone in front of him without even one bodyguard. "You do not scare me Deimos; you are not Judro. Now, you either take my price for the tensor rifles, or you'll be taking Judro's fury for returning empty handed."
Deimos clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "Or I could take these for free as payment to forgive your lack of manners. At this rate, it's the best deal you're going to get."
"Get out of my sight," Guilio spat, turning his back on Deimos while the six bodyguards stepped closer to Deimos. Deimos remained calm, scratching the side of his nose.
"I'm sorry it had to be this way, Guilio, but I'll be taking those tensor rifles now...and you'll be relieved of your business."
Guilio spun around, snarling. "How dare you threaten me! I—"
Before he could get another word out a silent shot pierced right in between his eyes, and Guilio fell to the ground dead. The six bodyguards stood confused for a few moments before they rushed Deimos, as Deimos was the only person in sight. The ones who got within a meter radius fell dead from the same silent attack before they could even touch Deimos. The last two bodyguards caught on to the fact that getting too close to Deimos would mean they were dead, so they skidded to a halt, glancing around fearfully for their hidden enemy.
"Now," Deimos said with a grin, clapping his hands together like he was eyeing a great feast. "I will be taking these tensor rifles with me back to Judro, while...you take over Guilio's business," Deimos said, pointing at the smarter-looking of the two remaining bodyguards.
"Me?" he asked, surprised.
"Yes, you," Deimos said scathingly. "And if anyone objects, tell them that they should take the matter up with Judro...or my new bodyguard, Cal."
As he spoke, Cal appeared from the shadows, sniper rifle slung over his back and the ace pilot helmet secured in place to hide his face. Cal inclined his head to the two bodyguards, not even sparing the dead men a glance. Yes, Deimos was here to do business with the crime lords of Nar Shadda, but he had other, smaller business to attend to, and he figured such business was the perfect opportunity to test out Cal's abilities and how well he took orders. Now Deimos was certain that Cal had been a wise move in Deimos' favor.
Deimos nodded towards the four large crates of tensor rifles. "I want these onboard the Dancing Maiden by sunrise. Cal here will supervise the loading, so don't try any funny revenge business," Deimos said, wagging a finger at the two like he was scolding a child. "Have a wonderful time," Deimos said with a grin, already turning to leave.
Cal lingered a little longer, his gaze roving over the dead men on the ground behind his mask before he turned his attention to the two living bodyguards that cowered when his attention was turned towards them.
"Give my condolences to their family, and tell them I'm sorry," Cal said in a deadpan, deep voice. "I'm serious. It's just business, that's the only reason why they've been killed. If Guilio had taken the deal, well...none of this would have happened."
With that, Cal turned away from the stunned bodyguards and followed after Deimos like a shadow, one hand resting on his blaster pistol the entire way.