In the Fahren's cabin, Emalda sat curled up on her bunk with the unopened parcel in her lap. She was nervous but determined. Qui-Gon had volunteered to pilot the Fahren and would be in the cockpit until their arrival at Canemone. Their clearance had been approved promptly and their take-off had been smooth. As soon as they had cleared the atmosphere, Ben joined her in the cabin as she'd been hoping. Ben leant against the doorframe, a faintly amused smile creeping into his expression as he caught sight of her on the top bunk. She smiled back even while she tightened her grip on the parcel. Her heart was thudding in her chest and she knew she had to start before she took the coward's way out.

"I have a confession to make," she said, managing to keep her voice steady.
Looking intrigued, he tilted his head and waited expectantly. She panicked but it was too late to back out. She had no choice now which made it simultaneously better and worse.
"Part of Tylip's interest in us may be my fault," she said. "I broke the law on Wefhuk - but I swear I don't know anything about these smugglers."
It was her turn to wait. Ben's smile slid off and a mask of studied neutrality replaced it. She recognised that look from rooms of professional pazaak gamblers. Once they adopted their expression, they didn't allow good or bad fortune alter it lest they reveal their hands to their opponents. Emalda had a feeling Ben would be very good at it, if he ever chose to gamble.
"Which law did you break?" he asked.
His words were crisper than normal. It betrayed his tension far more than his facial expression ever did.

"To the people of Wefhuk, dance is a strictly religious expression. Professional dancing is forbidden," said Emalda, closing her eyes as she forced the words out. "As is paying money for anything connected with dancing."
She didn't want to see the anger or disappointment on his face. Even worse would be to see no change at all, that he had never trusted her to begin with. She opened her eyes. He hadn't moved from the doorway, his entire body neutral. That told her he had a reaction to hide, which was something.
"You couldn't have found time to dance while we were on the planet," said Ben.
It was half question, half statement.
"No, but there is a tailor on Wefhuk who makes dancing costumes of exceptional quality," said Emalda. "I heard about him when we were staying on Escopju and I ordered one before we landed."

He frowned until she held up the parcel in her hands. It seemed such a small thing and yet her hands were shaking.
"This is it," said Emalda.
"This is it?" said Ben.
He stared hard at the little package in her hands.
"And this is all?" he asked carefully. "You didn't break any other laws? Deal with any other criminals, other than to buy this? You didn't see anything or anyone who..."
"No," she said. "I still don't know why anybody would try to mug me - unless they were after the costume, which I doubt."

He let out a breath and his body melted against the doorway.
"You're relieved?" she asked, her voice cracking.
"I was worried it might be far worse," said Ben.
"You think I'm the kind of person who might do worse," she said.
She couldn't look at him and twisted away to hide her face in her pillow. The silence, the utter lack of denial had her blinking back tears. She didn't realise he'd moved until she heard the bunk below take his weight. Then he was pulling himself up to sit beside her on the top bunk. It was a tight fit and she pulled her head out of the pillow to move over for him. She kept her eyes on the bunk opposite.

"I think," he said. "That our intentions and the kind of people we are, don't always determine the situations we find ourselves in. I believe good people can still make bad choices and end up in bad situations. Stars end, I believe good people can make good choices and still end up in bad situations."
"Is that the wisdom of your precious Jedi Order?" she asked.
"No," said Ben. "that's the kind of wisdom that comes from a life spent travelling the galaxy."
She dared to look at his face, "You're not mad?"

He rolled his eyes and she could have kissed him. If she tried it, they were both likely to fall out of the bunk; so she took his hand in hers instead. He looked distracted by the sight of their intertwined fingers and looked around the cabin, searching for a change of topic.
"So, was this marvelous costume worth it?" he asked finally.
This time it was his turn to keep his eyes on the bunk opposite but he didn't let go of her hand. She had to fight off a grin.
"Don't know it yet," she shrugged, bumping against his shoulder. "I haven't gotten around to opening it yet. I was a little distracted by the whole mugging saga."
"Oh, it's a saga now, is it?"
"Definitely. One of epic proportions. There will be entire dances choreographed around the story."
"And how will that go?"
"Naïve young dancer, in over her head - rescued by a brave knight."

He laughed and she shifted close enough to rest her head on his shoulder. He leant back on his elbows to give her more space and she curled up against him, both of their legs dangling off the edge of the bunk. He was warm.
"I still haven't had the chance to see you dance," he said quietly, gazing up at the roof of the bunk. "You promised me once, remember?"
"I'd forgotten...," she said, looking at a word game her sister had sketched on the top of the bunk. "I'm afraid you've missed at least one opportunity."
"You said you didn't dance on Wefhuk!"

"I didn't, don't worry," she said, patting his shoulder. "You remember three months ago, when we were caught in that interplanetary quarantine on Escopju? I found a bar whose regular dancers were trapped on the wrong side of the quarantine line. I danced for them when I could and they paid decently, considering I had no references. That was the money I used to buy the costume."
"Oh good, I was wondering if you'd used Senate funds for that."
Insulted, she slapped him lightly on the shoulder. Smirking, he turned his head to grin unrepentantly at her.

Their heads were separated by less than the width of a hand. She tried not to be distracted by having his lips so close but then she was caught by his eyes. That was worse because she knew then that it wasn't a one-sided attraction. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. He leant forward and reached out a hand to cup her cheek, the pads of his fingers trailing along a cheekbone. Her skin tingling, she raised her own hand and let it rest against his shoulder. Then they both leaned forward to close the distance, lips meeting in a gentle kiss before withdrawing to gauge one another's reactions. Emalda didn't fight the ridiculous grin that took over her face with a life of its own. Ben chuckled deep in his throat and stroked her cheek with his thumb, his eyes bright. Emalda's nerves were singing and she struggled to make sense of her feelings. She was warm and invincible and aroused and relaxed and energised, all at the same time. As fate would have it, that point in time was when the bomb in the cargo bay went off.