An Aur Diamond in the Rough [Kinsey]

[Rune Shamalain]

Something about that reassuring smile that sank into his memory. Brows raised as the man looked to the mask in his hand and momentarily considered the option to stay in the ship - a fleeting thought at most.

Lightheaded, right.

Rune stowed the mask into an inner pocket of his coat, giving Pibs a placating glance as he followed the woman down the ramp and across the connecting walkway.

"Have you worked as a Pilot for very long, Miss Kinsey?" she certainly knew her way around these things. It struck him as ironic that he should be paying for a ride across half the galaxy in order to take up the mantle as Director of Operations of a galactic shipwright company. Rune knew very little about ships but he knew business very well - and what was a second life without learning and trying new things?

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

"Depends on your definition of work," lopsided grin briefly crossed her face, blues briefly resting on his paler hues. The ground beneath their feet was rocky, hard surface of the asteroid itself. Their little corridor would open up into a larger passage where stalls were on topped each other - up and up and up. All kinds of smells of spices, fruits, legal, and illegal trade filled the small and chaotic space. It was crowded but Kinsey seemed to have no trouble finding a clear path, slipping easily between moving elbows and body parts.

"Been flying since I can remember. Growing up on a colony ship will do that to a girl. Pretty sure we were taught about a clutch and shoved into space before we actually walked in Gravity. My br..." She hesitated. It probably wouldnt be wise to run her mouth too much. "Just kind of runs in the family."

Pausing at one of the stalls where there were jars and jars of brightly colored liquids stacked.

"What about you, Rune." Yup, totally being casual about things. "What is it that you DO exactly? Y'know, besides making a girl a cup of caf." She handed her list of supplies off to the shopkeep.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

His path through the throngs of visitors was not quite as ... natural as Kinsey's, but he didn't seem to have much trouble otherwise. A patient man that walked confidently without hurry, he knew where his feet were and he moved with a keen sense of his surroundings, including the people.

She'd cut herself off from saying something and he wondered, with her sudden detraction from the flow of words, if she hadn't meant to say brother. Private girl - not a bad thing to be in the boundless realm of space.

"I was an Archivist, for a time," something that also ran in his family, but he kept that to himself, "and now I am shifting into a joint venture with an associate who recently inherited ownership of a large shipwright. I was asked to help and it seemed a change of scenery was in order."

"Being able to make a girl a cup of caf may have helped."

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

The shopkeep peered down at the list, then began using a pulley system to take different items off the shelves that stacked up to the curved, rocky ceilings of the asteroid shadow port. Eyes tracked to someone standing just behind Rune's shoulder. Someone in some beat-up Mandalorian armor. She didn't like when they wore masks. Not being able to track the eyes behind the visor.

It was probably nothing.

Blue gaze refocused to the foreground. Up to Rune's pale face.

Archivist? She wondered what kind of knowledge lay stored behind that blond-haired head of his. "What kind of ships you going to build?"

 

[Rune Shamalain]

"With luck, none."

Pale, blond brows lifted faintly beneath the slope of his platinum hair.

"I will be stepping in to fill the position of Vice President. Oversight and management, mostly." He knew very little about constructing ships but business he could do. Numbers he could do. Coordination, research, compilation of data.

His own gaze traveled to the pile of objects that continued to grow.

"I expect far more qualified people will be building the actual ships," his lips twitched into a half smirk of self-deprecation.

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

A shrug rolled over her shoulders, a shimmer of a grin ran across her lips. She knew nothing of major corporation management. It sounded like a job she'd be horrible at. Not to mention no interest in. And while her question has been direct,mashed meant it in the general sense. What kind of ships was the company building? And the girl wondered who the clients were. First Order? Sith? Silvers?

"We all have different skills."

The shopkeep cleared his throat and barked out the total. Kinsey turned and rubbed at her jaw. "C'mon Vinny. A hundredless credits for the coolant last time."

Vinny grumbled out a response.

"No. I don't think you're scamming me."

She totally did.

"But I'm a regular."

 

[Rune Shamalain]

Yes, indeed everyone did have different skills.

Mild curiosity crept into his expression, what traces of humor remaining had rapidly dissipated at the distinct sense of being watched. Hands clasped at his back while Kinsey took care of the difficult task of haggling, the man casually turned to take in the rest of the pathway leading through the market. There were eyes and ears and bodies of all manner of creature and race milling about, including a few that seemed to slide from a tethered interest as his gaze panned their way.

"But I'm a regular."

Hands uncoupling, his right swept forward in a subtle gesture towards the shopkeep before coming to rest on the counter. His fingers drummed impatiently.

Vinny paused, in the retort he was working on and blinked, "...you're a regular and it's a hundredless credits for you."

Hm. Rune looked at her, lightly impressed, "You're good at this. I should bring you with me when I purchase my own ship," not that he was the type of person that really needed to get a good deal on a ship. "May I help you carry anything?"

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

She blinked. For a second there, Vinny's eyes looked more glazed than a Nautolan-style donut. She handed Vinny the credchit in exchange for the bag of supplies. Couple of coils, coolant, and some upgraded tools. Couple more rations, too.

"Uh, thanks. It's usually not THAT easy."

Mind couldn't work out that slight itch that something was off. Or had happened? Especially when Rune began being Rune. Constantly surprising her. Offering to carry something?

Instinct and habit made it hard to accept. She clearly hesitated a moment before offering him the bag. "Sure." Out of the corners of her eyes she caught sight of that armor again. And another set. Too close for comfort. Hand fell subtlety to the hilt of her blaster.

"Let's get back to the ship unless you needed to get anything?"

She lost sight of the two figures, blues locking back on Rune's gaze.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

He accepted the bag with that same hint of curiosity from before, intrigued by her perceived hesitation to the offer. The man watched her closely, frosted eyes taking in her shifting gaze and unspoken signs of suspicion.

Rune considered, fleetingly, that it was because of him.

"I have everything I need, Miss Kinsey," stepping aside he gestured for her to lead on, "after you," and fell in stride behind her.

The way out seemed to be strangely more crowded than the way in despite it being the exact same route. There was a noticeable buzz to the crowds and far more eyes following the movement of the young pilot than was necessary. Rune found himself struggling to keep up with her - how she managed to wend her way through the people so effortlessly made him wonder. There wasn't enough time to speculate the how, however, as within the blink of an eye and the all-too-short moment spent giving an armored figure a second look, she was gone.

He stopped dead in his tracks, frigid blues tracking the crowd like a homing beacon without success, and furrowed his brow quizzically. Waiting within the churning tides of people coming and going, he felt his hands slowly coil into tight fists as his gaze honed in on that same armored figure from before.

It was moving in a direction that suggested it was heading towards the docks ... convenient. Perhaps too convenient.

Rune calmly started walking again, tailing the man tailing Kinsey.

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

"Stay close," the girl muttered, not realizing Rune was no longer behind her. Hand dug out the comm on her belt. "Pibs. Get the ship ready." Warbling chatter filled the channel.

"You sure?" Same ship from earlier this week spotted in their same hangar.

Chit.

The throngs of people thinned slightly as she turned into the small corridor to their docks. The lighting was dim, the rocky walls of the asteroid casting larger shadows on the untamed walls. Someone yelled behind her.

"Kinsey Starchaser!"

She made the mistake of turning and noticed two things: Rune was no longer there and the man in the Mandalorian armor had a blaster pointed at her from a few yards away.

Chit.

He fired and a blue stun bolt grazed across her right shoulder as she jerked herself against the wall. While her reaction time was preternatural, it wasn't enough. Numbness traveled down her arm as she managed to snap on the energy shield on her opposite wrist. Other hand tried to draw her blaster but her fingers felt numb and floppy like dead fish.

Another bolt buried itself into the surface of her energy shield as she stumbled back. The few other people around abruptly changed direction. They didn't want any trouble.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

He may not have been capable of navigating the crowds like Kinsey could but Rune moved with purposeful and silent precision. Rounding the corner into the docking lane, he came upon the scene of the second shot sailing through the air and sizzling into the pilot's shield. It was enough to puncture that perfectly constructed shell he'd carefully maintained day in and day out.

Meditation, calm, centered, aware, enlightened.

Eyes of green, voice of honey.

The sound of bones buckling beneath his heel.

When that moment ended the Mercenary had collapsed upon one knee with the sound of shocking pain leaving his throat. Rune was standing behind him, gaze like frigid steel.

"Miss Kinsey can you walk?"

The Mercenary moved to lift his blaster and found it summarily ripped from his fingers and tossed very, very far away down the aisle.

"I need you to get into the ship-" PEW PEW two more bolts came flying up the line from his back. Right, there were two of them.

"-quickly, please."

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

Kinsey was back peddling, doing the best she could to put distance between herself and the merc while not getting shot again. She needed Pibs. She needed to get to the safety of her ship. She needed to stay on her feet. And she needed her wrist shield to not short circuit.

And then there was Rune.

But it wasn't the calm man from before. He was a full-on predator. Blues widened with a mixture of shock, relief, and a bit of fear swirling within their depths. But when he spoke the fear changed a bit to incredulity.

Please. And Miss Kinsey still. She was nodding. Shield caught another bolt and she was running, casting glances back at Rune.

"Rune. C'mon. No time for pleasantries! Stay with me this time."

By now her whole right arm was numb. Floppy. But it was clear she wouldn't leave him behind, though he seemed perfectly capable. She may seem like a self-serving spacer but she didn't leave her own behind. The girl saw the ship ahead. The doors were open and she could hear the purr of the engines from here.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

"Right behind you," Rune called back, ducking away from a third shot of the new adversary. He shifted to the right and leaned next to curl his free arm around the armored man on the ground, hoisting him up by the neck. With a turn he began walking backwards, using the armored merc as a body shield - to which the second did not seem phased at the idea of shooting.

Apparently they weren't working together. A good healthy rivalry, was it?

Three more shots pinged off his shield's armor, a fourth sinking into a gap at the waist. The man expelled a round of expletives that Rune could not understand but was certain they were very rude.

Rune set his jaw, the fingers holding the bag in his other hand clenching tighter. He could hear the engines of Kinsey's ship getting closer and his eyes tracked the movement of supply droids buzzing overhead, carrying large crates here and there. Brow leveling over his gaze, he stopped and released the man from his grip, shoving him to the side before gesturing upwards with that same hand.

A passing droid suddenly found it's cargo crate being yanked out of its clutches. It dropped like a massive brick, missing the second Merc only by a few mere inches, and shattered open. Shrapnel flew everywhere, the contents spilled across the aisle. Without another moment to spare, Rune turned and stepped along Kinsey's path, up the gangway and into her ship.

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

Kinsey was in the cockpit as Rune stepped across the threshold. Pibs warbled out a frantic greeting and sealed them in. The wrist shield was off. Kinsey worked the controls as best she could with one hand. Lips pressed tightly together.

No time for crash restraints.

With a sudden jerk, the u-wing lifted off the landing pad and began hurtling through the tight, winding corridors of the asteroid.

"You in one piece back there Rune? You and our supplies?"

She could see the twinkling pricks of stars buried within the vastness of space just ahead. They weren't out of the woods yet. She'd need that coolant soon. She'd been hoping to make some repairs hangarside. Now, she'd have to get creative. Especially with one working arm.

Gorram bounty hunters.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

Time flooded his mind in a wave of red that pulsated against the heavy beat of his heart, filling his skull with heat and pressure. It had built like flowing lava, he the shell of a hitherto reticent volcano. His fingers found the back of his seat, gripping hard and white-knuckled as Kinsey pushed the ship out of the docking bays and through the winding tunnels.

The pilot's voice echoed through a vacuum, seeming far off beyond the pounding in his head. Where words failed to register his other senses filled in, gathering the sensation of emotion - curiosity, concern, fear, pain. It rolled around his head within the pressure before sinking down into his chest where it became his own. Rune's knees buckled, his body leveraging against the seat as it sank down to the floor, clinging against the dip and yaw of the ship through the tunnels until finally they soared free of the confines. Ragged stone gave way to open space and a deep, ceaseless diamond-speckled black.

He breathed deeply, sucking cool space air into lungs that felt as though they were made of magma - heady, viscous, unwilling to expand. Rune recognized the sensation within his veins now, felt the burn of deep-seeded corruption bleeding into his eyes where he would have rubbed a free hand if he had one. Presently his right clutched the chair to hold him steady while the left held an iron grip on the bag.

Had it always been this difficult to return to center? Rune couldn't recall.

"Are ... you alright?" a hoarse voice spoke to her, loud enough to challenge the roar of engines, but not quite yelling.

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

Instead of a response to her question, he asked her one in return. Kinsey was no empath, even when she wasn't burying her force signature down deeper than the belly of a sarlaac. So it must've been Rune's tone that tipped her off that something was wrong. Off. More so than the normal oddities she'd already observed from her passenger. It was enough to turn her attention away from the nav-computer and swivel in her chair to look back down into the cockpit.

The girl was back down into the cabin so quickly, she wouldn't recall later getting out of her seat or taking those few short steps. Blues widened as they met that flash of amber-red. Something she was all too familiar with. Heart thumped faster in her chest.

Fear.

Now her steps were cautious toward him. "Rune," her good hand reached out for the strap of the bag he held.

"I'm fine," she whispered, gently but firmly tugging the bag away from. "Stun bolt to my arm but it'll be fine in a few hours. Really."

She couldn't stop staring at the color change in his eyes, fight or flight instincts clawing up her throat.

"Rune. Please. Sit down." Yes, she could be polite even when she was terrified and dealing with a human, ticking time-bomb.

And if he sat down, maybe she wouldn't be so terrified. Maybe she wouldn't shoot him with a stun bolt.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

The man did not protest the taking of the bag from his hand, but his fingers were difficult to loosen. The headache had returned - if one could call it such a thing. There were no other words to describe the sensation of the rod of seething, angry corruption driving up his spine and crawling across his scalp like veins of molten steel. He wiped sweat from his forehead, burning eyes peering at Kinsey through his fingers, following the spoken words to the arm that hung limp at her side.

Bastards.

His mind immediately ran to innocence on the Pilot's part. What reason in the entire galaxy could those Mercenaries have for going after her? Later, when his mind was clear of turmoil, he'd recall with a certain sense of clarity that he knew nothing about her. She could be a criminal and, perhaps, they were simply doing a job that needed done. He dare not judge her on any such circumstances, but the man liked to think he was a good judge of character. Kinsey didn't strike him as the sort.

How his new body effected his old mind, however, wasn't something he could speak on.

"Rune. Please. Sit down."

Wasn't he? Gaze dropping from the woman to where his body had collapsed against the back of his chair, left arm still clinging in light of his anxiety for the chaotic take-off from the asteroid, he released a slow breath and gave her a nod. Broad shoulders shifted as he collected both hands and leaned to pick himself up, pausing as he got his feet beneath him at the sudden indication of pain in his chest. With a grunt Rune pulled himself to a slow, unsteady stand, moving to dust himself off only for his fingers to catch the sharp edges of ... something at his front.

Yellowed eyes turned downwards to find himself bleeding from several pieces of wooden shrapnel pinned into his chest previously hidden by the length of his hair.

"Mm," a frown pulled at his lips, brow furrowing at the multiple red stains and holes of his shirt, "well that is unfortunate."

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

Those yellow eyes were too much like HIS. That nightmare that wouldn't let her sleep. Wouldn't let her go - as was evident by those hunters from the shadow port. She should've been more careful. Fingers around the taken bag, trembled at her side for a moment. The girl took a quick breath and gently set it down.

Blood and splinters sticking out of the man's chest. Right.

"Well, don't pick at them. Take off your shirt. They'll need to come out." She averted her blue gaze away from his amber one. It was clear those eyes of his made her nervous. Stepping around him, she went to one of the shelves along the sealed u-wing door. Fingers plucked out a bottle of disinfectant, some bandages, and tweezers. This was going to be interesting one-handed.

The spacer turned back toward him, not a stranger to mending her own minor wounds from the scraps she got in.

"You're a sith?" She asked finally, not really caring if it was an appropriate moment or not and the question sounded more like a statement.

 

[Rune Shamalain]

He missed the quaking hand but the shift of his gaze caught her avoidance of eye contact. Why?

Despite a lifestyle of privacy and largely anti-social tendencies, it was not so much the people he avoided as it was the judgement of others. So many things that brought him shame, such as those moments when a legacy bled through. Strangers they may be but it stung all the same to think she may be fearful of him.

There shouldn't have been any reason for it.

A sigh escaped through his nostrils as Kinsey turned away to fetch medical supplies. He turned, feet still feeling like lead, fire still singing in his blood, and carefully pulled off his overcoat. The vest went next, folded neatly atop the former, draped over the back of his seat. The shirt went last, pulled free from his waist and methodically unbuttoned, Rune took these silent moments to retrieve some semblance of quietude to his mind. The last button pulled free as Kinsey's question cut through the silence.

"You're a Sith?"

This garnered her a sharp glance of saffron, one that lingered over her expression for several moments before looking away.

"No," he replied quietly, an edge to his voice that was less cut from offense as it was shame, distracting himself from his emotional response to the insinuation that he was the very thing he spent the majority of his life fighting not to become. Rune focused, instead, very keenly on carefully pulling his shirt free from the shrapnel before shrugging it from his shoulders, "no I am not a Sith."

He turned, bearing his back to her and the full spread of an expansive black tattoo, deposited the bloodied, torn short on top of his vest over the chair, then turned his head but not his frame to look at the woman, "Why do you ask?"

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

She caught herself staring at the intricate pattern of ink over lean muscle and skin. If she'd had a second good arm, her fingers may have twitched toward the roots and worked their way up the trunk, to the wings. Wings? It took her a moment longer than she would've liked to realize he'd asked her something. She wasn't one to blush but if she was, she might've in that moment.

And Kinsey didn't have to state the obvious to his response. Those eyes seemed awfully darkside charged at the moment. It took her a moment longer but she was finally able to meet his twin setting, suns.

"Because your eyes, the way they are now, remind me of someone I knew once. Someone I never want to meet again." She could've chosen to be more vague than that. Something about bad experiences with sith. Anyone would've understood that. But Rune had helped them escape. Helped her escape. She felt like she owed him a little more.

"The hunters we ran into. They probably work for him. Or maybe they were from the Keenjay clan."

That was an entirely different story and maybe a little less sinister.

Hand set the bandages and disinfectant down, fingers curled only around the tweezers. She held them up. "Let me see." He'd have to turn around so she could dig the shrapnel out. And stop staring at his back.