First Reply A new acquaintance

[Cora]

While Cora enjoyed solitude, she also enjoyed the nightlife that Mos Espa had to offer. This was her favourite spot to meet clients and contacts, and she had to admit that she enjoyed watching drunken fights break out when newcomers found themselves sitting in a regular’s booth. She didn’t have to worry about that happening to her, though. Everyone knew this was her booth. And something about the large scar over her eye deterred anyone from bothering her unless it was for business, or the server bringing her drinks.

With one arm hung over the back of the booth seat and the other elbow rested on the table as she twirled a few credits in her fingers, she watched the other patrons come and go. She was waiting for someone. One of her contacts arranged the meeting, so she didn’t know who to expect. It was always frustrating to receive no information about the new contacts, especially when they were always told who she was. Or at least, they were told how to identify her. But she never knew what to look out for.

She was hopeful that this new contact would have the item she was after, and not just information about it. But that was information her current contact couldn’t be honest about either. The item was… sentimental. She hated the thought that it was in someone else’s possession. If only it hadn’t been stolen from her in the first place. Her fist tightened into a ball around the credits she had been twirling as she thought about the incident.

Cora closed her one good eye and the images replayed in her mind. Their blades danced with them on the hills. Blow for blow, the pairs timing flawless as they duelled. When practicing their lightsaber forms their bond was at its strongest. Master and padawan moved as one unit. As they duelled, her focus drifted. An error she didn’t normally make. She stepped one step too far to the left. Then she swung her saber. A mistake her master would pay for with their life.

She shook herself out of the memory, her body stiff with rage. Then she took a deep breath, opened her eye again, relaxed her body and started twirling the credits in her hand again. As her gaze returned to watch the patrons up at the bar, she felt a shift in the force. From amongst the buzzing crowd, a figure approached her booth. The stranger took a seat opposite Cora at her booth without saying a word. She met their gaze and raised a brow. After a moment of silence, she leaned forward clasping both hands together with her elbows on the table, then set her chin atop her hands.

“So… You got the item?”

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto lowered himself into the seat opposite Cora , the booth creaking faintly beneath the weight of his armored frame. Without a word at first, he set a small wooden box on the table between them, the sound of its weight against the durasteel surface drawing her attention. With one clawed hand, he slid it toward her, his amber gaze steady and unflinching.

"It wasn't an easy thing to track down," he said at last, his tone carrying that quiet gravitas that always seemed to follow him. Laphisto often took on mercenary work through the Order sometimes assigning the jobs to the new bloods as grueling training exercises, other times handling them personally when the stakes demanded it. This had been one of the latter. It wasn't every day they were contracted to retrieve a Jedi weapon, and certainly not one with such a story attached to it.

As he leaned back, his arms crossed firmly over his chest, the cantina's hazy lamplight caught the ridges of his scaled features. The towering Kiev'arians presence filled the booth, not just in stature but in spirit. Force energy bled from him in slow, inevitable waves, a mist rolling from his form as though the very air bent to his being.

A faint shimmer rippled across Laphisto's eyes, a flash of teal cutting through the dim cantina light as he let his Force sight take hold. The mundane haze of smoke, sweat, and spilled drink faded into the background, replaced by the subtle threads of energy that wove through all things. He turned that sight toward the woman before him, peeling back layers of flesh and form to glimpse the pulse of the Force within her.

Instinct guided him as it always did gentle, probing pressure pressing against her presence, testing its shape, its texture, its color. He brushed along the contours of her alignment, seeking whether she leaned toward the burn of crimson fury, the calm blue of discipline, or the shifting neutrality of grey. What he found, he would keep to himself for now, though the faint furrow of his brow betrayed his curiosity.

"I suppose you're not one to ask many questions about how a weapon like this is procured," he rumbled, his voice low but edged with wry certainty. The wooden box between them seemed heavier now, its contents carrying far more than physical weight. His claws tapped lightly against the table as his gaze never wavered from hers. "Something of this caliber…" he let the thought linger, hanging between them like smoke, "…has to mean something to you, I gather?" there was a story here. and he was quite curious. it couldnt be hers. a force user would simply just make a new one. so this belonged to some one they cared about he was certain of that.

 

[Cora]

Laphisto 's large figure towered over her even as they sat. She hadn’t encountered his species before, but she expected no less from her contact than to surprise her with such an interesting and unfamiliar creature. At least he had the item. As he set the box on the table and settled into the seat, she felt something probing at the edges of her mind. Something she couldn’t quite explain. So he was a force user, too. That would explain how he was able to win back the saber. She assumed he had acquired it by killing the previous handler. Her emotions were mixed. On one hand, she was elated that her adversary was no longer alive, but on the other… She wished she was the one who’d done it.

The armoured dragon-man studied her closely and queried her connection to the item. It made her uneasy, she didn’t like answering questions more than she didn’t like asking them. Without saying another word, she reached for the box and opened the lid ajar to take a peak and confirm this was in fact the item she was searching for. As she spied the familiar hilt of her master’s lightsaber, her eye lit up and a warmth washed over her. She set the lid back, then motioned to the barkeep to bring the pair a drink each. After all, she had to show her gratitude to the being one way or another.

Cora remained silent a while longer, considering whether to enlighten the man with a response or to simply hand over the credits and leave it at that. If he’s asking for a story maybe she could share one and get a discount on his services. Would he know whether it was truthful if she lied? The server arrived at the table with the drinks and set one in front of each of them. Cora lifted her glass above the centre of the table, nodded at the being across from her, then took a sip of the concoction.

Setting the glass back on the table, she finally broke the silence. “It belonged to a good friend.” Her eye flicked from the box to her hands as she curled her fingers into a tight fist. She tried to contain her emotion, but her voice quivered as she spoke. Damn it. Now she knew he’d pry for more of the story. Cora bit her tongue for a moment as she choked back the lump she felt forming in her throat. Unwilling to reveal more than she needed in order to satisfy the being’s curiosity, she offered one more piece of information, her eye remaining fixated on her own hands. “They fell at my hand.”

 

[Laphisto]

So either a padawan who had killed their master, or a master who had killed their padawan. It was a story as old as the Jedi themselves—one Laphisto had seen repeat in endless variations across centuries of conflict. As the teal sheen faded from his gaze and normal sight returned, a sharp sting clawed at his vision. He winced, pressing a clawed hand briefly to the corners of his eyes. The strain never truly left him.

The green eye bore a golden ring at its edge, the blue one framed with a faint red circle. And at the very fringes of both, etched into the whites, were the telltale scars of carbonite poisoninga mark of years stolen, of long entombment in frozen silence.

A low rumble worked its way from his throat as he gave a slow shake of his head. "Based on your tone," he said at last, his gravelled voice steady but not unkind, "it was an accident. A tragedy that has echoed throughout galactic history more times than I can count." His expression tightened into a faint frown, more understanding than judgment. It did not make her burden any lighter he knew that. But it was his way of offering a fragile branch of sympathy

Leaning slightly to his right, Laphisto reached toward a side pouch worked into the plating of his armor. For a moment the motion revealed the broad, heavy hilt of his Broad Saber, mag-locked securely to his hip, before he shifted back into place. In his hand was no weapon, however, but a small data chip. He set it down on the table with a muted click, then pushed it across the surface toward her with deliberate ease.

Taking up the drink she had ordered for him, he lifted the glass in a small, acknowledging gesture before taking a long sip. The faint clink of his clawed fingers against the glass was almost lost in the background hum of the cantina. When his eyes returned to hers, the weight of them pressed as firmly as any words.

"Someone with your talents," he rumbled, his tone carrying a mixture of appraisal and challenge, "shouldn't have their skills squandered in a place like this." His gaze swept briefly across the noisy crowd of Mos Espa's patrons drunkards, smugglers, gamblers, all blurring together in the dim haze before settling back on her. "There are better uses… better purposes. If you know where to look."

The implication hung between them like smoke, heavy and deliberate, daring her to decide whether to take the comment as an offer, a warning, or simply an observation from a being who had seen too many waste their potential.

Cora

 

[Cora]

If you know where to look. The words felt sharp, although maybe it was unintentional. Her eye narrowed as she shot a glare toward the being. It seemed like he didn’t notice her expression. Not one for subtlety, then? She lingered on that thought briefly, then considered the data chip he’d presented her. Her right hand subconsciously lifted to her chin. The air felt heavy as she pondered. What did this gesture mean? A challenge? Her eye flashed and the corner of her lip twitched with a smirk.

Cora reached for the data chip, then stopped herself half-way, hesitant to display even a semblance of trust toward the stranger. Her hand hovering over the space between them, she looked up at the being across from her once more. “What makes you think I don’t know where to look?” She hissed at him. It was an attempt to assert aggression, but the long delay between his words and hers betrayed her.

She lifted her chin, leant back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. Defiance. “I don’t even know who you are.” Her hand waved him off dismissively, as she threw a handful of credits his way. Payment for the item he’d retrieved for her. Then she turned her head to monitor the crowd again.

When he didn’t move from the table, she let out a sigh. It was a heavier sigh than she’d intended to release. They were locked in a game of wit and she was losing. The silence between the two lingered before she finally erupted. “Fine. Enlighten me.” Her brow twitched as she returned her piercing gaze to the man. She snatched up the data chip and turned it over in her hand. It was cool to the touch. Then she let it dance between her fingers, the same way she’d manipulated the credits she was holding earlier.

Laphisto