"Who was that girl?"
"No one special, Linx," The Rodian Jedi sighed as she walked down the hall with her young apprentice.
"Oh, come on, Master Kiri," he rolled his eyes, "that doesn't work on me anymore, and you know it." He gazed up at her with his big blue eyes, the eyes that never failed to notice anything.
Kiri sighed again, this time harder to hint that she didn't want to talk about it, but Linx was relentless, those bright blue orbs boring into the back of her neck as he stopped walking. She turned around, seeing his jaw set determinedly.
"Do you really want to know?" she put a scaly hand to her forehead, hoping she'd see a flicker of doubt cross his expression.
He nodded stubbornly.
"You know I do."
"Fine. She was a Sith."
Linx's heart stopped, and his blood ran cold.
"What…?"
The boy's master nodded solemnly, and his vision clouded. He stumbled over, feeling his legs collapse from under him. Kiri ran to him, running over to support her pupil.
"But…" he gulped, his crystal eyes staring desperately up at her.
"She saved my life."
Elan and I rode his speeder bike to a nearby ship rental. We could've just stolen a ship, but I was trying to keep a low profile, so I rented one instead. She was the cheapest one they had, but she was actually pretty decent.
Sunset's Bane, she was called, and she certainly looked that way. Dark gray and splattered with a rusty orange, she looked like she had seen better days. Nonetheless, we climbed aboard.
"Where to, Mistress DeathRain?" Elan grunted playfully, pushing buttons and flipping switches until the Sunset's Bane was simply another addition to the flying traffic of Courascant.
"Tattoine," I sat in the copilot's seat, resting my legs on the dashboard.
Elan nodded. "Tattoine it is, Rain."
"Aren't you going to ask why we're going there?"
"Nope."
"Smart."
"Meh."
Tattoine.
Hot, dusty, ruthless.
The perfect place for a wanted felon like me to hide out.
"Coming or going, Elan?" I asked, peering at him over my shoulder as I steered the speeder he'd snuck on board out into the desert.
"I'll wait here." He nodded, satisfied with his decision.
"No waiting, Elan," my features hardened until I looked like the Sith stereotype—cold and callous. Which I guess I was.
"Now let me ask again: coming or going?"
My old friend shrugged.
"No offense, Rain, but I'm leaving. Do you want me to pick you up sometime?"
"Nah," I turned and jumped onto the speeder bike. "See you." I began to pull away, but the dealer stopped me, tossing a beat-up comm link my way.
"Just in case," he winked, knowing I would, more likely than not, get into some forme of trouble. I laughed.
"Thanks, man," I smirked, and began to drive away before he could stall me any more. "Later."
The speeder bike kicked up huge plumes of dust and sand as I darted away towards the nearest area—Mos Eisely. The two hours it took to get there were hot, sandy torture, and I almost whooped for joy when I saw the port on the horizon—but thought better of it when I got a mouthful of sand. Fifteen more minutes, and I had my speeder parked in an alley and was walking towards a nearby shop where I could get some fuel.
As I walked, I saw the looming palace that stood just on the skyline. Jabba's Palace, a hulking mass of sandstone and assasins.
I should fit right in there, I thought, pausing to star at it. I'd heard that Jabba was always looking for people like me.
I continued walking, absorbed in my thoughts until someone bumped into me. I know, I was surrounded by people, and it most definitely wasn't the first time it had happened, but this one was hard, and the pedestrian's hand lingered in my pocket.
It was a motion I was familiar with.
I immediately turned into the nearest alley, Force-dragging the person—a little Twi'lek kid—behind me.
"Give it back," I stated simply when he had regained his footing, holding out my hand impatiently.
"What?"
That was the worst possible thing he could've said. I slammed him against the walls, and my small pouch of credits fell out of his pocket.
"That."
I left the alley as if nothing had happened and all was right with the world, even though there was a young Twi'lek groaning in the back of the alley, huddled in the fetal position like a turtle.
Linx laid on his back, staring at the metal ceiling of his dorm, deep in thought.
"Linx?" Kiri stuck her head through the door, looking worried.
"For the last time, Master, I'm not coming out." He closed his eyes. "Not now, not ever."
"Then I'll come in." the Rodian woman walked over and sat on the foot of his cot. Linx just laid there, tying his best to ignore her.
"Why would she do that?" he muttered when he realized that there was no overlooking her now. "Why would she save me? I'm a Jedi. Aren't we supposed to hate each other?"
"There are some things no one can explain," Kiri shrugged, placing a bright green hand on her Padawan's shoulder as he pushed himself up. "Why do you think?"
Linx shrugged. "I don't know. I was always told that Sith fought with there emotions, letting anger and hate fuel them. This is weird."
"Indeed," Kiri smiled, chuckling softly. "They typically don't think about second chances, do they? They don't realize that everybody deserves a second chance."
Linx sighed deeply.
"Maybe you should just forget about her and try to focus on your training again?" she suggested gently, getting to get feet and leaving the room.
Linx shrugged, sinking back into his festering thoughts.