CMC
By Sapadu
Part I: Denial
Chapter 4: Supply and Demand – The relationship between goods and services in an economic market, wherein the price of anything can be determined by the equilibrium balance between the two factors, and the ideal price is set when supply equals demand.
It was a week before another encounter with the CMC was inevitable. Jaina's mission had dispatched her into the next system over, to oversee and negotiate a reestablishing something or another, Ben noticed his parents spending more time with different Knights and Masters, and he mostly stayed in his room, attempting to be productive and do what his parents expected him to do, but more often than not getting distracted by other things. Even the times when Mom was nicer to him for some reason – Ben still wasn't sure about that, but he guessed if she wasn't too mad at him, that was okay – he could still tell she was losing patience with him.
So, by the end of the week, when apparently his parents decided he must have learned his lesson – he was still unsure what that lesson was supposed to be – Ben was allowed to leave for social visits.
To his Aunt Leia and Uncle Han's place.
"Heyya, kiddo!" Uncle Han greeted him, mostly by picking him up under the armpits and throwing him up in the air. Ben would have screamed, but he would admit – he'd missed his Uncle and Aunt, too. And then, he was back on the ground, which was fine by him, considering that Uncle Han hadn't been able to disguise nearly falling over backwards when he'd tried picking Ben up, at first.
"Thanks for this. It's gonna be a really crazy day, around here." His father mentioned, giving Aunt Leia a hug. That was all his father said, but Ben felt almost like he was giving Aunt Leia one of those Jedi-Mind-Speak looks that he and Mom always shared and didn't need to talk with. He always wondered what they could be talking about.
"Not a problem – it will give us a chance to relax for a change." His Aunt Leia replied, with one of those smiles that made his father shake his head. Relax. Great – when grown-ups said 'relax' that usually meant no running, no playing, no doing anything fun. Not that Ben wasn't able to do that, but it was almost like adults could somehow turn sitting and playing a hologame into too not-relaxing and tell him to turn it off. Well, whatever – it was better than sticking around the Temple, where Ben was constantly able to feel the hum of the rest of the Order on his senses. It was like living right next to a hive of insects, and never being able to get away from the incessant buzzing noise.
So, when he was settled in the backseat of the air-speeder – which was different from a land-speeder, Ben was absolutely certain, so just calling it a 'speeder' was inaccurate and misleading, he'd had an argument with his educator model that morning – he was ready to be carted off to the port where Millennium Falcon was docked, or at least told that he needed to be quiet and patient while Uncle Han and Aunt Leia ran some errands before they went back. It was a pleasant surprise when Uncle Han craned back over the seat.
"So, heard 'bout some new friend you made on vacation." He started. Ben blinked, then looked to Aunt Leia and saw that she was checking something on one of her doc-readers. It was almost, like, the complete reversal of his parents, which one was gonna pretend the conversation wasn't happening or something.
"...Yeah...?" He answered, wondering why Uncle Han brought it up, and desperately hoping that it wasn't going to lead to a new wave of family giving him grief over it. He'd already been grounded for a week – wasn't that enough?
"Yer Dad told us how this lady commed this mornin', saying that if it was okay by us, you could come an' have a day with that kid sister of hers." The Countess had... said it was okay? And that had been this morning? Ben hadn't known anything about that...
"...So... we're going to see her?" He asked, wondering if he should dare press his luck. Uncle Han cracked a smile – better than giving him one of those looks, like he wanted Ben to answer that question, but if he got it wrong...
"Maybe – see, we gotta finish up a few things with the Falcon, and we're gonna need you to sit close by an' not cause no trouble. But, we get that done quickly, and you help out alright, we can swing by the afternoon." His Uncle's eyebrows climbed his forehead, and Ben felt his do the same, "Sound fair t'you?"
Even without seeing his face in the reflector that allowed his Uncle Han to see traffic through the windows, Ben knew how big and bright his smile was. He knew, because Uncle Han reached back and mussed his hair with a big, scruffy hand, and an equally lopsided grin that, as always, made Aunt Leia sigh and shake her head.
"So, are you gonna need me to help-help with what you gotta do, or bring you engine-tape and tools kinda help?" Ben asked.
"A lot of the bringing us tools, and some of the be quiet so we can hear the pipes, kind." His Aunt spoke up, sending him a brief glance, "We heard some noises in them last night, and need to be sure it isn't anything dangerous." And then she sent him a different look, which felt more like the ones his parents would send him, when they expected him to know what they were thinking, "We're going to be using the welders and torches – do you understand what that means, Ben?"
It meant no running around or getting into the ship's works, because Aunt Leia and Uncle Han thought he was too little.
"Yeah." He sighed. Aunt Leia kept watching him.
"Those are dangerous tools, Ben – we know what we're doing, but we might still slip, or fumble, and you could get hurt. Now, do you understand?"
Uncle Han had showed him how the welders worked, a few months back, the last time he'd been allowed to visit them. Sure, they hadn't really done anything with them – just welded together two pieces of scrap so Ben could see it – but that had been okay. When Ben shot his Uncle a pleading look, all he got was...
"Yer Aunt's the boss." And Aunt Leia swatted Uncle Han's arm, then went back to her doc reader.
Ben went back to staring out the window, watching as tall pillars of durasteel, glass, and chrome plating flashed past, dotted with moving specks of living beings on the walkways, and blips of zipping light and paint traversed between the buildings at more or less the same velocity as the airspeeder. Well, it still wasn't a bad start to a day, and when it was done, he'd have seen Jacci and the Countess again.
He wondered where they were, lost in the chaos of Coruscant's endless forest of buildings and beings...
~.~.~
Helping oversee a negotiation was pushing it, in Jaina's opinion. The next time one of her missions was described like that, she was gonna put her foot down and say 'No' because, dammit, this wasn't negotiation.
This was babysitting.
The two companies negotiating over who got what land on this planet were both run by aging men, both of whom were suspicious, nasty, and particularly frugal when it came to the haggling end of the negotiations, and neither of whom Jaina was invested in enough to remember their names. The only difference was that the one whom had requested assistance from the Jedi Order was claiming that there were threats to his life.
Part of Jaina's assignment – off the record, since it wouldn't look too good if anyone got wind that the Jedi Order was actually investigating requests instead of trusting those who asked for their presence – was to see if there was some other political business going on; if the requests for a bodyguard were, in fact, ploys in greater schemes to manipulate the other side into a different kind of deal; if there was anything more sinister behind the scenes with these companies.
So far, she'd not felt any kind of malignancy in either of the companies that went any further than the fact that they didn't want to bargain with their rivals over the reclaimed territory, but she also had to deal with each side making thinly veiled threats and jabs, and all over a planet that, as Jaina read, was worth trillions in credits and assets, and, of course, the little side benefits of providing a home to displaced refugees and natural resources to a galaxy that was trying to feed, clothe, and supply its citizens.
But what did that matter, she guessed, when there was money to be made?
She was losing patience. Hour by hour. Sometimes, minute by minute.
"And what does the Jedi Order think of this arrangement?" Jaina blinked when the CEO of the opponent company turned to her, with a kind of gleam in his eye that she didn't much care for. But there was no tremor through the Force to alert her of any danger or immediate threat – no more than there always was, than there had been for years since she'd become aware of her own mortality...
"I don't speak for the Jedi Order, sir – I'm only here to ensure the safety of the parties at work." She repeated, a line that she was getting tired of using – if she were allowed her way, something more along the lines of 'The Jedi Order thinks you both can shove it and just FINISH this, because colonies and settlements are on hold until you two have finished fighting over who gets the new toy.' But, that wouldn't be POLITE.
"Oh? It s-s-seems to me that the Jedi Order has already s-s-spoken..." Said the other company head. The one she'd been sent to protect. Jerk. "Otherwise, why would they have s-s-sent you?"
"You requested that the Jedi Order send a Knight to assist with bodyguard detail, and the Council saw fit to provide." Really, more because this was a world that was overdue for reparative work, and was projected to recover resources needed for half the established companies in this region of the Outer Rim. That was the real reason why she'd been sent – because this was one of the few corporation disagreements which could potentially impact more than just their individual companies. So, really, Jaina was only barely tolerating this...
"Unless, of course, the opposition feels equally threatened and would like an additional guard, or you've changed your mind about your safety – either case, I'm sure the Jedi Order would be perfectly understanding..."
It was a bluff, but it felt good to play it, just to see the argumentative president's face turn purple with rage and her client's expression go white. They turned away from her and went back to arguing over the contract – clauses, subclauses, the expenses, lawsuits, who would pay for those lawsuits... it seemed to drag on forever.
But, through it all, Jaina kept her attention on the Force, and what it told her. Still nothing that wouldn't be expected from two old men, trying to cheat the other out of some money on a piece of property – but she just had this feeling that there was something else to this discussion... something maybe not a part of the discussion, as a whole, but like there was a part of the room that was directing the whole affair, shaping it...
She stretched out a bit further – no heightened danger, but there was something in the whole area that felt as though it were a giant mold, pressing against the room and creating the arguments, as they flew from the two men's mouths like spittle.
Jaina turned to the door, and was only a little surprised by her client starting from his seat.
"Jedi S-S-Solo? Why are you leaving?" He demanded, somehow keeping an angry tone despite the fact that she could feel his panic. Well... why not, she wondered?
"I felt something that might be a threat." She lied, "Going to check it out – your normal, hired-for-pay guards can protect you well enough for two minutes."
It was worth it to sense his panic rise, tenfold, at that comment, but she still left to not-check out a non-existent threat. But she could, certainly feel something in the air outside – a cloying, all-oppressive fear, like it was radiating from all directions, like it was built into the very fabric of the meagre port that the corporation ships were parked on, and the surrounding, humble beginnings of buildings. When she closed her eyes, she could very near smell the fear in the air. Not just in the air – in the ground, in the running, underground rivers and streams that provided water for the surface life, in the stones and sheets of metal that were slowly taking the shape of domiciles and offices, in every outward breath from every living being who had to currently sleep in the transports on the port...
What are they all so afraid of? She wondered...
A few moments passed. All Jaina got was the answer of a few breezes throwing dust in her face. This really was a place that needed rehab – not even any plant matter was left, setting spores and pollen around...
Finally, Jaina had to turn and go back inside. Back to the bickering and the underhanded insults, and resigned herself to having to go out and investigate later in the evening. That gave her a few hours to craft a lie to tell her client, but at least she had her mind to herself...
~.~.~
"Why'd you need to do all this?" Ben asked, leaning over the edge and watching as his Aunt and Uncle carefully handled a piece of old piping that had, in fact, been full of holes and needed to be replaced. They both had to navigate together to heft it out of the crawlspace under the floor, considering that Uncle Han was barely tall enough to actually reach the floor from where they were standing.
So, really, Ben justified to himself, he was making sure that they had a clear path to climb out when they were done.
The pipe slid onto the floor next to him, making a scraping noise that seemed magnified by the Falcon's interiors, and made Ben feel like, for whatever reason, his Aunt and Uncle had been keeping exceptionally quiet for this whole process – like a game when he pretended he was a spy or a thief, and had to keep quiet or else he'd get caught. And this sudden break in the relative quiet, for whatever reason, made him feel like they were going to be discovered by whatever enemy they were hiding from.
"Been asked to help out with claim-jumpers in the planet rehab efforts – so, this hunk'a'junk's gotta be ready to keep going for coupla months of time, what we're gonna need..." Uncle Han said, gesturing for Ben to push the new piping towards the edge enough that he could grasp it and keep full control of it's descent. Ben watched them both pull it into place, mulling over this new information.
"So... you're leaving?" He asked. Just to be sure he had that correct...
"Only for a few months, Ben. It's very important, because the laws about getting back planets are supposed to make sure that all of the beings who lost their homes during the Yuzuhan Vong war can have a place to go, now – but there are some people whom aren't doing what this law says, which means the people who can't afford a place to go are stranded and have to find other claims." His Aunt said, in a voice that he only heard from her when she was talking to him. Ben had heard about claim-jumpers. He wasn't stupid – he knew that the law was supposed to be helping people who didn't have home-planets, anymore.
She didn't have to talk to him like he didn't understand. So, he sat back on his haunches and tried not to be too upset.
"You understand?" Aunt Leia asked, and Ben guessed he didn't huff too much when he sighed,
"Yeah."
He saw Uncle Han look up and push up his welding goggles enough to look Ben in the eye.
"Hey – don't make faces." He wasn't, not really, but it was all Ben could do to try not to, now that Uncle Han had said it, "You heard – it's important, an' we're not goin' away forever. Jus' be a few months."
"'Uh'know..." Ben mumbled back, and pushed himself back from the edge as he heard his Aunt and Uncle start to weld the new piping into place. So, it was just him and the rotted piece of pipe, and the swirl of emotions coming from his Aunt and Uncle. There was plenty going on, now – they weren't like his mother and father, couldn't keep their emotions controlled or under wraps, and he could feel everything they were thinking about or feeling as they did it. It was strong, to be sure, and sometimes it felt like too much, but he was always grateful to feel them, because of how... he wasn't sure if he had a word for how different his Aunt and Uncle's emotions were – maybe straight? Everyone else's emotions were all bendy, and sometimes, they twisted in curves that, when they came into his mind, it was like they were hooks and got caught on him and wouldn't let go.
Uncle Han's were heavy and hard, but smooth and clean. And now, he was burning with irritation, and worry, but they were both focused on something far away, outside the ship. His Aunt Leia's emotions were more like little balls of metal – no less hot than his Uncle's but she was juggling so many of them, and each a distinct color to them...
Without really meaning to, Ben reached out and put a hand on the holey pipe they'd just removed-
Jaina weren't this upset 'bout us leavin'
It's not justice
Stupid
Couldn't be nobody else
How do we
Kriffin' coolant lines
That ANOTHER gray hair
Maybe 'round the Outer Circuit'd be quicker
She'd seemed like there was something on her mind
Maybe I should have asked Luke what was wrong
We 'member to lock the door
Did Han remember to lock the apartment door
Those coolant lines
Mara sure'd been all strung-up
What route would be the best
Kriff, what time is it
If Jacen were here
Shouldn't say nothin'
Ben's being awfully quiet
With a yelp, Ben jerked his hand back. That couldn't have been too long, could it? Why did it feel like he'd just got hit with a few minutes of time, when it had all been so fast and blurry that it couldn't've been more than a second or two?
"Ben, you ain't touching that pipe, are'ya?" His Uncle called. Ben shook his fingers, just now realizing that they were tingling, like he'd been burned.
"...No..." Ben managed to answer. His eyes were stinging, but that wasn't really crying, if he didn't get all huffy.
"Good – prob'ly still hot from the welder. Y'll burn yer fingers." Oh. Ben stuck the digits in his mouth and didn't say or do anything until his Uncle's head popped back over the floor.
"The medkit's under the co-pilot seat." He heard his Aunt call as his Uncle hopped out of the crawlspace and pulled Ben after him, in search of some burn medicine.
~.~.~
"And that's the situation with us, so with all of the tensions under the new law..." Pointed out their visiting representative. Mara counted this as the fifth gentleman today, representing a privately owned company, which all seemed to think that they could come to the Jedi Order and complain about how rehabilitation efforts, restrictions, and temporary measures were hurting their businesses.
This was also the fifth one of the day whom had wanted to speak with 'Master Skywalker' and had been significantly stiff when she'd entered the room and told him that she was 'Master Jade-Skywalker' so she was good enough.
She held in a sigh – what she wouldn't give for the ability to breathe fire, right now – and pushed a loose lock of her hair back over her ear.
"Master Jade-Skywalker, I assume you have some input for this situation." The other accompanying Masters available today – because, honestly, Mara had got fed up of hearing complaints that some Masters weren't working as hard as others when they spent their days meeting with delegations and representatives and other important people, so they could all spend some days doing it and see exactly how 'easy' it was – were Corran Horn and Kenth Hamner. All in all, it had made for a good balance when meeting with business-people. Corran's reputation from being a smuggler made many of them feel like he understood the trade and business side of their arguments, while Kenth's pull with politicians made them feel like they also had the interest of the law.
Never mind that none of them could actually affect law-making decisions. But Mara supposed that wasn't quite what any of these people really wanted.
"Only the input I gave to every other business that came before you – one of whom, I believe is a rival of yours, is that not so?" She asked, keeping the bite out of her voice as much as possible. Still, the representative mustered a dignified, displeased expression.
"You don't need to be so rude." He sniffed. And, yet again, that was the fifth time today she'd heard some complaint about her behaviour or attitude that had not been leveled against Corran or Kenth, despite them acting nearly the same. In fact, the line about rival companies coming to them with the same complaint was one they'd circulated from the beginning of the day, just to see how many representatives continued to insist on the law being altered, and how many cringed at the thought of aiding their rivals, however accidentally.
So far, none of them had continued pressing after that.
"In any case, sir," Kenth spoke up, "You've said your piece, and we can only tell you the same thing we have, every other representative - we can only mention your complaints to the Senate, not write laws. If you need proactive advocacy, legal teams are better for that."
"There are a lot of new firms, looking for clients in this period - pretty sure you can give them your business, right?" Corran added, pointedly.
~.~.~
So far, what Han saw about this place, it weren't near impressive as he thought it would be. In the district – where, if you were Coruscant's trash, you ate, slept, worked, and lived on those streets – and the building they were before looked like it had been trashed, hollowed out, then trashed again by any scavenger that thought they could find something. Most of the windows were covered with plating to cover where the glass had been broke or stolen, the walls covered with burns and blackened from folks not keeping the lacquer up, and the sun beating it down and making it rot out.
This lady were supposed to be some blue-blooded, royal type, weren't she? If Ben hadn't told them 'bout this Countess friend of his, Han wouldn't never have believed it.
"Are you certain that this was the correct address?" Leia asked him, quiet-like as Ben tried to crawl his way out of the backseat.
"Pretty sure." Han murmured back, pulling the seat forward and pulling the kiddo out to run loose. Ben, being as hyped as he was, went pelting forward towards the building, and right on cue, somebody inside pushed the door open. That somebody, as Han's luck would have it, was some old codger with white hair, scars under his eyes, and a funny, curved nose. At any rate, Ben skidded to a halt and then bowed.
Han and Leia had themselves a look – they hadn't never seen Ben do THAT to a grown-up before.
"Good afternoon, sir." The old man nodded, in a voice that sounded somehow high-pitched and low-pitched at the same time.
"Good afternoon, Mister Gornash, sir." Ben answered, holding himself straight and proper. Han didn't remember seeing Ben talk like this, neither, "I sincerely apologize for our tardiness."
This Mister Gornash guy arched one eyebrow. Then, right after him, Han saw a head poke between the door frame and his stomach – a head covered, what looked like, an awful lotta white curly hair. When the tall guy moved over, a little girl squeezed her way out and pelted out, grabbing Ben by the waist and actually managing to pick him up and spin his feet in the air.
"Huh – someone feeds their kids right, don't they?" Han muttered to Leia, but she elbowed him when they closed the gap and found themselves face-to chest with the Mister Gornash.
"Ah, I would presume you are Captain Solo and Senator Organa-Solo? Milady told me that when she was in contact with Master Skywalker this morning, she was told you would be in custody of Sieur Ben, today." The tall guy sniffed and then turned back through the doorway and called for this lady they were here to meet.
Ben, now giggling, went rushing past with the little girl dragging him and pulling him into this joint they were supposed to be meeting this lady at. When Han and Leia were allowed to step in, they were treated to the wonderful sight of counters what were more dust and sand and something nasty Han didn't know what; only enough light peaking through the cracks in the windows, it made this a place less cozy and sweet and more make you look over your shoulder at every noise; when they walked their footsteps made a weird, sticky clicking sound.
"Captain Solo and Senator Organa-Solo to see you, marm." Called the guy as he tiptoed over the gross floor – it was pretty funny to see someone so up-tight trying to act so serious when this place was such a wreck.
"Yes, yes – I heard you the first time, I shall be with our guests in a moment." A voice called from behind the bar. It was so... familiar, Han couldn't really say where from, but he was damn sure he recognized it. When he leaned over, he saw a mess of some kinda dress and a mass of white hair, but ain't no face so when he looked back at Leia, all he could do was shrug.
"Are you alright, down there?" Leia called, also leaning over the counter. They heard a thump, and then the lady popped up, straightening an enormous mass of white hair that could only be a wig. It was seriously ridiculous, since the hair was woven into some kinda big brain shape, standing on its hind-legs, like. And that weren't the least of it, too – when the lady came tottering around the counter, Han realized that the skirt alone was wider than her shoulders, maybe HIS shoulders, and three layers of cloth, just that he could see.
"Oh, forgive my lack of timely response – I had hoped we would be more presentable on time, but these things are some times beyond our control. Please, take a seat and make yourselves comfortable... I am certain we can at least have some pretensions of civility in short order." The lady made little shooing motions with her hands – she had gloves up to her elbows, and ain't the kind you did heavy scrubbing with, but some shiny, black furry stuff.
"Not at all – we weren't interrupting something important, were we?" Leia asked, easing onto a stool that wobbled with way more grace than Han managed. When the lady, herself, reached behind and pulled up her skirt so it hung off her own perch and sagged in a real circle shape, Han wondered if she needed a hand up, or should he just keep his trap shut and let Leia do all the talking, 'fore he said something what got them in trouble.
"Oh, when certain events are looming on the horizon and there is no delay to be had, interruptions are immaterial to any kinds of results – only when they become the more permanent kind, properly defined as 'delay' or even 'postponement' does one begin to have cause for blame and grief, and only just barely, for it becomes a matter of will to press through and surmount those difficulties, and the blame lies solely on the parties whose determination was weak." She seemed to not catch that Leia'd been asking something totally different – Han'd've expected that from someone who didn't know that kinda fancy talk Leia used that was double-ended, but he figured someone calling themselves a 'Countess' probably shoulda known...
"That must be one hell of a deadline if you don't got time to waste on changing." He commented. He saw Leia huff at him, but he nodded at the wet stain that was spreading all across the lady's skirt, from knee down and coloring that fancy lace all down her front from some pretty white to brown-ish gray.
"Oh, I assure you – there will be no change to be seen... more to be the pity, no doubt, if the judgements to my disposition are to be believed, and surely any poor souls who must endure a moment of my company will wish there will be some alteration in the near future." Their host continued waving her hands and shaking her head. Han cocked an eyebrow and looked at Leia, and damn her for having the best poker face he'd ever seen on anyone – he couldn't tell if she thought that was just as nuts as he'd just heard, or if she thought it was funny, "But that should be of no concern now – I do recall extending this invitation for the purpose of the young ones, now where could they be... Sieur Ben? Jacci? Might we impose for proper introductions?"
Come to think of it, Han realized, either those two were suddenly the damn quietest kids in the galaxy, or they were getting into some trouble, because he hadn't heard a peep outta them since they'd set foot in this dump.
Ben's head popped out from around a corner and just under a narrow row of compartments built right into the wall – they were old and covered in rotting wood, he guessed they mighta been for cups and stuff if some poor idiot had been running a bar or caf shop here before. One of them, closest to the ground, had no doors and Han saw both Ben and the little girl crawl out, so it musta been big enough to be a little den for kids their size.
"Right – sorry..." And she had Ben saying 'Sorry' after meeting her twice – what kinda witchcraft was this? "Uncle Han, Aunt Leia, this is Jacci and her big sister, the CMC... Countess, Jacci, I have the pleasure of presenting for your inspection Captain Han Solo of the Millennium Falcon, and Senator Leia Organa-Solo, formerly Princess of Alderaan, my Aunt and Uncle, respectively."
It was definitely not Han's eyes fooling him, that he saw suck in the corners of her mouth and her cheeks pucker, so he rolled his eyes and stuck out a hand to shake the Countess-lady's, "Pleasure."
Ben's new friend had her fingertips covering her lips and didn't reach back for Han's hand, "No, the pleasure is mine – this is my first encounter to meet a gentleman who could claim to be an Aunt, or a lady an Uncle."
Leia let a sharp snort of a laugh out and Han grinned back. Even the kid sister looked pretty embarrassed, but in a way that at least she could laugh at Ben with them, while Ben mostly just pouted and looked at all of them like he couldn't figure the joke.
"Cuz you say 'respectively' when you mean 'in that order', kiddo." Han filled him in. Ben rolled his eyes and groaned.
"You know what I meant!" He loudly sighed. Then, his new buddy tugged on his sleeve and started fidgeting with her fingers, "Yeah, I DID – I just was talking to fast... Well, you did TOO!"
"I had not previously been informed of the other qualities you two could lay claim to – I had only known you were of some importance to Coruscant's society." The Countess kept going, letting Ben have a pretty one-sided conversation with Jacci and her hands, "But, Dame Solo, a Princess? Of..."
"Alderaan." Leia filled in. On the counter next to them, Han felt more than heard cups being set down and that tall guy reappeared with a tray of drinks. He hadn't even noticed the man leave, but he did know that the cups and their drinks stuck out as the only things in the place not filthy. So, he guessed, there mighta been some kinda real money in this lady somewhere – then why was she cleaning this place up, her dang self?
"Yes – Alderaan – yes, that. I hear that this season is a delight for holiday spots." The lady just kept on going, oblivious, until Leia forced a tight smile and cut her off.
"You'd never even heard about it before now, have you?" Han decided that the diplomatic thing to do was pass Leia the tiny cup of caf that was pretty obviously hers, and take a very conspicuous sip from his. It was a pretty good brew – smooth, and not that bitter, even though it was straight up.
The Countess pinched her lips, but still smiled, "Oh drat – what made it so obvious?"
Leia casually swirled her cup, "Because Alderaan hasn't existed for about twenty years, now." And she took a sip at pretty much the same moment that the Countess totally froze, then did the same with her cup of whatever it was she was drinking.
Han looked back over at the kids – Ben had turned and loudly asked Leia, "Aunt Leia, if you were a Princess, do you live in a castle?"
Leia was a good enough sport to keep a smile, "When I was very little, yes – but I don't now, because I'm not a Princess anymore." So, Ben turned back and very pointedly said that he'd told Jacci so.
"Coulda fooled me." Han muttered at Leia's shoulder, and she half-heartedly elbowed him in the side, before passing her cup back over for him to put back on the counter. The Countess had done the same, and seemed to be moving much more slowly and deliberately, by now.
"Please... I extend my deepest apologies – my remark was careless and ill-prepared, for the sake of hasty wit and cheap agreeable conversation. If I have caused any offense..." And here, Han'd been thinking this lady wasn't dealing a full deck – but he guessed he'd rather see someone who was willing to look kinda dumb and admit it because they meant well.
"It's okay." Leia insisted, "My homeworld isn't the most recent planet to be destroyed – the war it was destroyed in hasn't even been the most recent war. I'm more surprised that you didn't even know that much."
The lady sat up straight again, and picked up her drink – Han looked and the guy who'd brought the cups over had refilled them, again.
"Yes – clearly, my research is still wanting for a great deal of history. Pray, what more would you say I should look into, for future reference? If I am to remain on Coruscant for any time, I surely must be thorough in my inquiry." She pressed.
Han and Leia gave a few pointers – the big ones, they figured, least what were important – before Ben was tugging on Leia's sleeve again, and "Jacci's got a question"-ing again, and they kept on going. Not like it weren't nice – nice and pleasant, even, if you really pushed him – but Han was fixin' for the damn visit to be over. This lady kept things so pleasant that she didn't really even seem to push the whole 'strangers making nice' smalltalk, and that got boring after just a few minutes. He was willing to bet Leia was probably getting bored, and that took some doing.
Whatever – least the kids were keeping out from underfoot and sure seemed to be having fun. By the third time Ben came over with a "Jacci wants to say", though, Han got a little fed up and picked Leia's doc-reader off the counter and handed it to her.
"Here – 'll'make things quicker."
He didn't miss the Countess' stare, but not actually say nothing. Something he did wrong? Not his problem.
Jacci seemed excited enough – like it was a new toy – and pretty much immediately started typing, 'til she had her question, 'Were you really a pirate?'
Han should've been confused, but he'd heard it all before, so he just answered by holding up two fingers, aiming them at the two, and pretending to shoot. They took it well enough, aiming shooting back. He hadn't done this since Jaina and Jacen were ankle-biters. He missed it. It was a good minute 'fore they were done with the goofing, and then Leia said it was probably time to leave.
"Ah yes, the hour draws late and surely you have an engagement to keep – and our own occupations demand upon us the most tender of affections in attention and commitment. Come – let us quit this, the confinements of purpose and be returned to our own fortresses and abodes." The Countess half-slid, half-hopped off her stool and pulled her skirt down, like she was caught on a hook or something, and didn't wait none for anyone to follow her, pushing to the door. Ben's buddy slouched, but it was pretty obvious she knew she had to go, and Han wasn't gonna lie – he was kinda relieved they were getting outta this joint. It took a couple long minutes to get Ben into the backseat – he and his friend kept pulling the 'one more thing' card until Han settled it by just picking his nephew up and plopping him in the speeder, and finally – finally – he and Leia could say goodbye and get back to going home. When he turned on the engine, he was both not really surprised, and also pretty dang surprised that it was dang near dinner. How the hell had they been sitting in there talking about not a damn thing for almost six hours?
It weren't till they dropped Ben off back at home that he and Leia had a moment to talk with nobody listening.
"...She seem funny, to you?" Han asked, squinting against the glare of the setting sunlight. Leia had been so quiet since they'd left, Han'd almost thought she'd fallen asleep – he wouldn't've blamed her, what with how their day been.
"Odd, yes – but I've seen stranger from politicians I have to work with on a daily basis, and on worlds with still functioning aristocracies, eccentricities like her aren't even remarkable." Leia said, like she been waiting for it.
Fair 'nuff. Han guessed there weren't nothing wrong with being strange – hell, he lived in his damn ship pretty much his whole life. But he had to ask again – since that weren't what he meant.
"No, like, y'know – something else. Something just off, whatever it is." He couldn't see her face, since he was still watching his driving, "A gut feeling, y'know?"
"Ah." And that was all she said. She could've been thinking about her answer, trying to not call him stupid or paranoid to his face, or just checked out. Han figured that was probably a good time to stop pushing – it'd be better to talk later, maybe over dinner. 'Sides, they still had plenty else to talk about and worry about.
It probably weren't worth the energy to fuss just because of some new stranger, and someone they like weren't gonna see much of, anyway.
~.~.~
Jaina had to wear a mask when walking through the settlement, primarily because night was when the pressure dropped and they got the heavy winds and dust storms. The sheer landmass that needed to be re-structured was staggering, and was the most infuriating part of this whole mess. She trudged through already knee-high piles of dirt and dust, kicked up between the shoddy buildings, and had to stop to brush the film off the clear plasti-screen over her face.
It aggravated her – weren't walks supposed to be relaxing and soothing? Fresh air and exercise and all that? Jaina tried glancing up at the sky, and was kinda not surprised that it might as well have been a grimy, night-sky colored cloth ceiling – the clouds were a rusty orange from the lights, against a black that might've well been a super-dark brown velvet color, and not a star in sight that could punch through the haze. Kinda like the film on her mask, except nobody was periodically wiping it away for just a temporary clearer view. Jaina pulled her foot out of a hill of sand and up onto a new, easily collapsing mound that it sank straight into, anyway, and tried to do the same thing with her other foot. Same, damn result, only now her shoes felt somehow heavier, like the dust leaked past the seals on her boots and pantlegs.
Just a lap or two between buildings – all of which, she noticed, had serious amounts of dust not only coating the outside, but jammed into every little crevice, be it the slats of vertical sheet metal or the creases where they were welded together, the frames of the doors and porthole windows, even if there were tiny gaps where the walls and roofs were sealed together; all of it might've just as well been storehouses FOR the dust that was spilling out, or some poor, extremely talented kid's sand sculptures that had been decorated to look real – left her even more exhausted. She wanted some relief – sleep wasn't gonna help, and if she tried to comm home to talk to anyone, they'd start bugging her about what was wrong and she didn't KARKING know... So that was out, at least until she could figure out what she was feeling from this place that might've just as well been someone strapping a lead weight to her diaphragm and telling her to keep breathing 'normally'.
Like there had ever BEEN a 'normal', in her damn life.
She tried knocking on a few doors, only to see a face occasionally peek through the window, also wearing a mask. Great – so these buildings were so shoddy, they still got dust in there, too, and still needed to wear these damn things. And absolutely nobody wanted to open their door – one even plastered a note with 'Go away' written on it to the glass, and didn't answer when she knocked a second or third time.
Jaina got back to the offices and temporary lodgings pretty much by midnight. The security droid asked for clearance and Jaina only half-mindedly gave it and her dusty mask and overcoat, before immediately asking for a room service aid with drinks to come to the quarters she was being afforded, immediately adjacent to the company suite. She stumbled to the turbolift, not quite hearing the droid protest it's programming was security, and let her forehead rest on the cool – and perfectly clear – glass of the lift. The plasma-powered fencing around the office building was far more effective at keeping this building pristine and the air inside clear and breathable without any compromise, despite the fact that it was still one-hundred percent stagnant and recycled. At the highest floor, she could still see out over the settlement, except the buildings were barely discernible, except as lumps amidst the plains of bare dirt and exposed rock, only really visible under the spots of orange safety lights fastened to the rooftops. The sky – or, really, the horizon – was the same faint mass of dusty, cloudy, haze.
Something in Jaina's chest felt like she'd taken an enormous, galaxy-deep breath of that smog and hadn't realized it, and now it was just sitting inside her. Not doing anything – just sitting, and taking up space that she wanted for something else. Like air. And her blood.
And booze. She had never been so happy to see a droid carrying a tray with glasses, carb-water, ice, and vodka.
~.~.~
When she woke up in the morning, she had a hangover the size of a gas giant, and several messages from home with her next dozen missions – and a convenient excuse that she needed to leave for a day or two, and her client could do without her until after she had done this thing that only Jedi could do, and she was the only one in the area.
And she was off, alone in her ship for a few, however short, still blessedly solitary hours.