Private Finders Keepers

[Dylan Kaelis]

LOCATION: Mirogana, Toshara, Republic space
POST THEME: Nosebleeds by Misterwives
TAGS: Lorn Reingard

⬤ ⬤ ⬤​

Waiting was the hardest part of stealing.

Finding the mark was child's play. Getting close enough to hear the cred sticks jingling was easy, too. Even the moment when she slips her fingers into his pockets and lifts the little golden bars was no trouble. But waiting? It'd kill Dylan faster than a hungry varaki. She wasn't always this impatient, but lately, she couldn't help herself. Maybe it was the constant rumbling in her belly or the knot in her shoulder from sleeping on an amberine floor. Whatever it was didn't matter to her now. Her focus was locked on the Nikto's pocket.

He seemed to have a nervous tic where he shifted his weight from one foot to the other; when he shifted to the right, he was perfectly lined up for her grubby little hand to slip in and back out again, a few hundred credits richer.

Dylan breathed in and tried to ignore the smell of roasting meat from a cart around the corner. She focused on her hand, sensing each muscle from her wrist down to her fingers, and when the moment was right... yoink. In and out in a flash. She glimpsed her own reflection in the metallic surface and cracked a smile, but the joy of knowing she'd eat good tonight was dashed by the shrill voice of a woman shouting "Bo shuda!"

The girl's eyes shot to the crier, then snapped back to see confusion boil instantly into rage on the Nikto's face. He didn't get an opportunity to reach for her, though—Dylan slammed her durasteel-toed boot into the alien's shinbone, dropping him down to a knee as she turned and ran toward the crowded market. Behind her, curses and swears followed. Brat, thief, scum—among other colorful insults—flew like blaster bolts by her head. She'd heard them all, and worse, though. It didn't phase her anymore.

Dylan kept moving, gradually slowing her pace to blend in better with the spacers and merchants. Soon enough, she was invisible again. But it wouldn't last long. Ahead, she saw a pair of Pyke Syndicate enforcers conversing with a shopkeeper she'd stolen from just a few days prior. The Pykes were nodding beneath their cuboid helmets as the snitch filled them in. Dylan watched them with disdain. She wasn't watching her footing, and when she tried to walk the other way, she tripped over someone's foot in the crowd. She caught herself, fumbling instead of falling, but she bumped into a passing merchant. The collision sent the woven basket he was balancing on his head to the floor, scattering fruits across the ground.

The commotion pulled the eyes of the Pykes and their informant, who all-too-eagerly pointed straight at Dylan and began shouting.

The chase was on again.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Dylan Kaelis​

Lorn generally avoided worlds like Toshara. The worlds within the Mara Corridor were a pungent mix of sweat, oil, and desperation, commerce stripped of any pretense of civility. The Republic's influence barely extended this far, and where it did, it was usually for less than honorable reasons. Still, his orders had led him here, requiring a discreet meeting in a backroom to discuss safe houses and supply lines; the vital, unseen network of the underground. His duty done, Lorn had been eager to get back to his transport.

As he navigated the narrow market lanes, his hood pulled low, vendors hawked their wares in a cacophony of languages, smoke rising from sizzling food stalls. Suddenly, something small and fast slammed into his leg.

It was a girl.

She faltered, nearly falling, before bracing herself against a merchant's cart, sending a cascade of fruit rolling across the street. For a fleeting moment, she looked up, her eyes wide and defiant. Lorn saw in them the desperate, unbroken spirit of a thief.

Shouting erupted behind her; sharp, clipped, and all too familiar. Pykes. Three of them, shoving through the crowd, blasters partially drawn, murder evident in their voices. The shopkeeper gestured, and Lorn understood instantly: the girl had stolen something valuable.

Without a word of protest, the girl took off running.

Lorn let out a sigh through his nose. This wasn't his problem. His transport awaited, and his orders certainly didn't include getting involved with street kids or the petty fury of the Syndicate. Yet, despite himself, his feet began to move.

The crowd parted as the Pykes pushed forward, their metallic helmets glinting under the sun. Lorn followed at a steady pace, the edge of his cloak trailing on the dusty ground. He could sense the chase unfolding; the girl's panicked flight ahead, the grim determination of her pursuers. Beneath the clamor and the smoke, the Force pulsed with a quiet disapproval.

She didn't deserve whatever fate awaited her.

He quickened his step into the pursuit.

 

[Dylan Kaelis]

LOCATION: Mirogana, Toshara, Republic space
POST THEME: Nosebleeds by Misterwives
TAGS: Lorn Reingard

⬤ ⬤ ⬤​

Dylan's heart pounded like a racing fathier as she darted through the crowd. She was confident she could escape, yet afraid of what would happen if she failed. More than anything, she was angry. Angry at herself for getting caught, angry at the Pykes for preying on street kids, and angry that the galaxy allowed such things to happen.

Her distraction was enough to make her stumble over a hooded man's foot. She caught her balance with a lucky grip on the edge of a food cart, but the stumble slowed her long enough for their eyes to meet. The man seemed strangely calm, unwilling to pin her down or call out while the Pykes gained ground. For that, she was grateful, though her gratitude showed only in a steady look that lingered a few seconds longer than needed.

Then she ran. Eyes forward, heart hammering, she pushed the doubt and frustration to the back of her mind.

"Stop her!" one of the Pykes shouted from behind, far closer than Dylan was comfortable with.

She needed an opening, and it appeared just a few meters ahead. The corridor narrowed sharply, and stacked before the junction were several heavy-looking crates—far too heavy to move by hand. Fortunately for her, the Pykes didn't know she had a trick up her sleeve.

Keeping one hand steady as she ran, Dylan waited for the right moment. As she passed the crates, she flicked her wrist, sending them crashing to the floor with a metallic thud that echoed down the corridor. For the first time since bolting from the market, she slowed and glanced over her shoulder.

"Time bought," she said, a smug smile tugging at her lips.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Dylan Kaelis​

Lorn kept to the edges of the crowd, following the commotion from a distance. The girl was undeniably fast, darting through market stalls and slipping between startled vendors, but her speed alone wouldn't save her for long. The Pykes were known for neither mercy nor patience. He took a side route, cutting through a row of shuttered kiosks and weaving between narrow alleys that ran parallel to the main street. Years of battlefield instinct had taught him the rhythm of pursuit; he could already anticipate where she'd turn.

By the time he emerged from the alley, he was ahead of her. He spotted the girl sprinting toward the junction, her movements desperate but precise. Then she lifted her hand. The crates stacked before her didn't simply fall; they flew. A sharp flick of her wrist sent them crashing across the corridor in a metallic avalanche. The sound rang out like a detonation, and Lorn stopped dead.

There was no stumble, no hidden equipment, no clever trick. Just raw intent and motion. The Force had answered her. It was raw and untrained, but undeniably present.

"Time bought," she muttered, smirking to herself as she slowed to look back. Lorn's jaw tightened beneath the shadow of his hood. The Pykes were already shouting, forcing their way through the fallen crates with furious efficiency. Any reprieve she thought she'd earned would vanish in seconds.

He stepped forward from where he stood half in shadow, his voice low but carrying across the corridor. "Now what?" he asked.

He didn't reach for his weapon, or move any closer. He simply watched her with a quiet steadiness. The Force still trembled faintly in the air between them, like the echo of a struck chord. Behind her, the Pykes' shouts grew louder, closer.

She had a choice to make.

 

[Dylan Kaelis]

LOCATION: Mirogana, Toshara, Republic space
POST THEME: Nosebleeds by Misterwives
TAGS: Lorn Reingard

⬤ ⬤ ⬤​

A voice from behind made Dylan spin around. She was boxed in with angry Pykes on one side and a strange man on the other… a man she sensed was familiar. It took her a moment to realize it, but it came to her in a snap.

“You’re the man I tripped over in the market,” she said matter-of-factly. “You work for the aliens? Or you want money for new boots?” Her tone was surprisingly clear, voice steady despite the predicament she was in.

All the while, her fingers danced against her thigh as she took note of her surroundings. A loose pipe trailing a portal midway through the corridor, a small wooden box with grain spilled out the side, and a broken chunk of amberine about the size of a man’s fist on the ground.

Options.

A crude string of insults landed on her ears from behind. She didn’t risk taking her eyes off the market-man in front of her, but she knew it was only a matter of time before the Pykes were through her little diversion.

“What do you want?” Dylan asked, finalizing her mental choice to use a combination of all three objects she spotted if necessary.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Dylan Kaelis​

"You have new boot credits?" Lorn asked, his voice dry, almost bored. His brow barely lifted, but his eyes never left her.

She assessed the corridor, her gaze flicking from the pipe to the box, then to a fragment of amberine. Every detail was cataloged in seconds. She was smart, fast, and dangerous, even if she didn't yet know what that meant. Lorn felt her thoughts moving; her fear was sharp as a wire, her focus like the heat before a lightning strike. The Force circled around her, wild and untamed.

He said nothing at first, just watched her hands twitch at her sides. Then she spoke again.

Her voice snapped him out of his trance. "Huh?" he said absently, blinking once, pulling himself back into the moment. "Oh." He took a slow breath, tilting his head slightly as he studied her face. "You stole from them, didn't you?"

His words were calm, unhurried, yet they cut through the air between them like a vibroblade. Behind her, the Pykes were already forcing their way through the wreckage, cursing and shouting. He didn't seem to care.

"Is that why they're after you?" he asked quietly, his voice carrying enough weight to snag her attention. It wasn't an accusation, simply an observation, but it was distracting enough to shatter her rhythm.

 

[Dylan Kaelis]

LOCATION: Mirogana, Toshara, Republic space
POST THEME: Nosebleeds by Misterwives
TAGS: Lorn Reingard

⬤ ⬤ ⬤​

“It’s not stealing if you leave it just laying around,” Dylan retorted with a scoff. She was tired of these syndicate lowlifes making credits off bullying people, only to turn around and flaunt their wealth with stupid trinkets and ornaments.

She shook her head, fist clenching at her side as the emotion began to flow through her body. It felt like a river current, unbridled and unyielding. Always had… “You feel everything bigger,” her dad said to her once. It wasn’t a bad thing, he explained. Just a thing. Everyone has a thing. Dylan knows he was just trying to make her feel less silly about crying over her favorite windfishing basket getting hung in a tree, but the idea stuck with her.

But the time for reminiscing had come and went. The Pykes were breaking through her barricade and the hooded man wasn’t making any moves that suggested he’d do something about them. At this point, he may as well be working with them. Maybe he was.

Dylan reached for the loose pipe and made a quick gesture as if she were pulling it from the wall. With an otherworldly motion, the metal beckoned to her, snapping midway through and spilling a fast jet of steam into the corridor. The girl moved forward in a dash, keeping her head low as she moved through the scalding cloud of moisture. She hoped it occluded her enough to move past the hooded man, but there was always the chance he’d snatch her as she went.

Even good plans are never guaranteed to work.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Dylan Kaelis​

Lorn watched as she jerked her hand toward the wall, the loose pipe snapping with a hiss of pressure. A burst of steam flooded the corridor, swallowing her small frame in a swirling white cloud. For an instant, she vanished from sight.

Lorn didn't need to rely on sight. He reached into the current of the Force, that quiet hum beneath the chaos, and felt her there: fast, frightened, but fiercely alive.

She darted forward through the steam, thinking herself unseen. Lorn stepped directly into her momentum, his gloved hand catching the back of her jacket in one clean motion. Her forward drive halted with a jolt. She twisted, light on her feet, but he held firm, anchoring her like a post in a storm.

"Enough," he said quietly. He didn't need to raise his voice. The tone carried the weight of command, shaped by years of battle and restraint.

The steam began to thin, revealing the Pykes forcing their way through the last of the crates, their shouts muffled and angry. Lorn caught pieces of their language, but not enough to matter: threats, promises, curses. He kept his eyes on the girl, her jacket still tight in his grip.

He knew she could feel him now, through the Force, and through the weight of his calm pressing against her panic. Would she sense that he meant no harm? Or would she strike out on instinct, as most cornered creatures often did?

The thought flickered and passed. He released a slow breath. "Just give back what you stole," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "Before this gets worse."

It wasn't judgment, merely weary advice, one survivor to another. The Force still trembled between them, uncertain which of them would move first.

 

[Dylan Kaelis]

LOCATION: Mirogana, Toshara, Republic space
POST THEME: Nosebleeds by Misterwives
TAGS: Lorn Reingard

⬤ ⬤ ⬤​

And snatched she was.

The sudden grip on her jacket was like an anchor dropped off the rear of a speeding skiff. The abrupt loss of momentum nearly caused her to fall backward, but Dylan stomped her heels against the floor to ground herself. She turned as best as she could and threw all her weight against the her captor. With one hand, she clawed at his knuckles, trying to pry his fingers from the leather; with the other, she pounded at him with a tight little fist.

She was by no means strong enough to seriously hurt him, but she wasn’t a weakling, either. Someone along the way had taught her how to scrap. Her form was poor and her muscles were weak from malnutrition, but her spirit was on fire.

“I can’t give it back!” Dylan barked, glaring at the man with desperate anger. “I have- to sell it- for- my family!” Her words came staggered between labored breaths as she struggled.

By now, the Pykes were laughing as they approached. Her diversion was gone and they’d be upon her soon enough. She pushed and hit, clawed and snarled, but the hooded man wasn’t budging. “Fine,” she hissed. “Have it your way!”

Dylan reached into her jacket pocket and clutched the prize she’d nabbed. In one strong throw, she hurled it over the Pykes’ heads—an impressive display for a teenager, further confirming her attunement with the Force. The thugs practically turned on their heels to find it in the mist. Dylan took the moment to flash a disdainful glance at her captor.

“Hope you’re happy,” she spat. “And I hope you have a plan. They won’t stop just because I gave it back.”

Unless his plan was to hand her over, make a quick buck from turning her in. The Pykes pay snitches well. Must have learned it from the Imperials they like so much.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Dylan Kaelis​

Lorn groaned under his breath, more exasperated than angry as the girl thrashed in his grip. Her fist struck his side, testing his patience. "Stop," he said, firm and quiet, holding her steady as she clawed at his hand. He maintained his steady grip. The more she fought, the more he felt her fear bleeding through the Force, hot and frantic.

Then she wrenched something from her jacket, a flash of gold, and hurled it with a strength that didn't belong to mere muscle. The credstick arced high through the steam, landing somewhere behind the Pykes. They turned instantly, barking in surprise before one of them dove to retrieve it. Lorn let out another low sigh. "That's one way to handle it," he muttered.

The moment the Pykes realized the prize was back in their possession, their focus shifted again. It was aimed at him, at the girl, and at the insult of resistance. Their laughter died. They started forward, blasters raised, masks reflecting the dying haze of steam. Lorn stepped slightly in front of the girl, his expression composed, unreadable beneath the hood. "It was a mistake," he said evenly, his tone carrying that same quiet authority. "The girl was hungry. It's over now."

They shouted something in their harsh language, angry and clipped. The smallest of the three jabbed his weapon toward Dylan, spitting a string of words that even without translation made the intent clear. Lorn exhaled, slow and tired. "No," he said. He lifted a hand, the motion calm, deliberate. "The debt's been paid in return," he told them, his voice threaded with a subtle resonance that brushed against their minds. "You no longer need the girl."

The words lingered in the air, their tone patient but weighted with unseen gravity. The Force rippled outward, wrapping around the Pykes' thoughts like fog over glass. They hesitated, blasters wavering, their glances flicking toward one another. Lorn's gaze didn't move from the girl, his expression unreadable. If the suggestion held, they would leave. If not, and their conviction was strong, there were worse things than breaking a silence with violence.

 

[Dylan Kaelis]

LOCATION: Mirogana, Toshara, Republic space
POST THEME: Nosebleeds by Misterwives
TAGS: Lorn Reingard

⬤ ⬤ ⬤​

The girl fought right until the Pykes set upon them. Every fiber of her being shouted to run the moment she felt the hooded man's grip loosen, but raw fear kept her ragged boots grounded behind him. Why was he helping her like this? What did he want? Questions buzzed in her head like ronga bugs in a caves.

Dylan wasn't fluent in Pyke, but she knew enough to ascertain what they thought of not only her, but her mother, too—very unkind things, putting it nicely. They stepped forward with blasters in hand. Overhead neon signage reflected off their cuboid helmets like the rays of a sunset over still waters. They were confident, numerous, and pissed off. It was a holy trifecta for these syndicate types, and from what Dylan had seen on the streets of Mirogana, the Pykes enslaved or killed people for far less than lifting a cred stick.

But the hooded man stood firm. He didn't flinch when they cursed him or retreat when they closed the gap. Dylan wondered if he'd draw a blaster and try to gun them down, but to her surprise, his hand was empty when he finally raised it. He waved it at the wrist in a controlled fashion that reminded her of similar gestures she'd learned to make—gestures that did things when she put her mind to it. Things like knocking over stacks of crates, bursting steam pipes, or launching credits much farther than her arm would have normally allowed.

Was the hooded man... like her?

"The debt's been paid in return," the front-most Pyke repeated. He was echoed by one of the thugs behind him, saying, "We no longer need the girl."

The aliens stood there with blasters drawn, still, aside from silent glances between one another. They seemed confused, but ultimately, they holstered their weapons and turned away. The last of the mist floated lazily above the ground. Dylan stood, lips parted in surprise. The hooded man still held her by the wrist, but she'd already given up the fight. Now, she was just as confused as the Pykes.

"Uh... what the hell...?" she half-stated, half-asked. Her right brain was wondering what else this guy could get her out of, but logic kept her thoughts tied pretty close to one burning question: what does he want?

Dylan didn't ask aloud, but her eyes spoke plainly. She looked at his face, searching for answers beneath the hood.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Dylan Kaelis​

Lorn watched the Pykes disappear into the haze until the last glint of their helmets faded down the alley. Only then did he release the girl's wrist. Her pulse still raced under his fingers, a small tremor against the calm he'd forced into the air between them.

He stepped back, adjusting his cloak, his gaze sweeping the street. The mist had thinned to a damp shimmer along the duracrete, catching the colors of the neon above. No more danger, just the distant hum of speeders and the smell of spice oil drifting from nearby stalls.

She was still staring at him, eyes sharp with confusion and suspicion, and maybe a flicker of something else: curiosity.

Lorn tilted his head, considering her for a moment before looking past her shoulder, toward the lighted edge of the market. "Are you hungry?" he asked, voice calm again, almost casual.

When she didn't answer right away, he was already turning, hands sliding into his sleeves as he started toward a food stall down the lane. "I could eat," he said over his shoulder, tone unhurried. "Come on."

He didn't wait to see if she followed. He just trusted she would. People always did when they couldn't decide if they were safer walking away or staying close.