Private Good Trouble

[Adelle Bastiel]

Coronet City, Corellia
Tags: Mishel

Mishel blatantly checking her out brought heat to Adelle’s face but she didn’t slow her pace. It had been a bit since she’d been with anyone. Let alone anyone who seemed as thirsty as Mishel was for Mandalorian women. And her next comment confirmed it.

“Maybe I’ll squeeze in some downtime in between sight-seeing. Find a room somewhere. Or a dark corner at least,” Adelle said, a smirk in her voice. Getting clear of the ‘Gray Sock Brigade’ would be an issue. Running into an Imperial building was less likely, but Adelle couldn’t actually say their chances were zero.

“Considering that they have a whole lot more manpower than we do?” Adelle pulled up a recently publicly available map of Coronet on her HUD, keying in a command to highlight known Imperial buildings or gathering areas. “Staying ahead’s going to be a game of hit-and-run. But fortunately most of their buildings should be around the government center and CorSec Plaza.”

Two red dots appeared at the edge of her HUD, warning of a patrol approaching the entrance of their current alley. The roar of speeder engines grew louder and Adelle stepped under a fire escape, visor snapping up to watch the vehicle pass overhead.

“Gray socks ahead, two,” she told Mishel. “We need to cross the street they’re walking down. Don’t worry about the speeder. I think as long as you stay in my general vicinity, my beskar’gam’s jamming array will cover both of us. Not that you need encouragement to stay close. And I’ve got a couple of programs running that will, hopefully, help.”

‘Hopefully’ being the keyword. Decryption wasn’t a fast process. Adelle checked the recent map then input a command to highlight areas of confirmed Imperial activity. Several buildings turned deep red, some pink. Most were clustered around the government center and CorSec Plaza like she’d assumed.

One of the building’s locations stood out to her though. Adelle stopped and zoomed in on the map. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach. She began to search the holonet for holopics, recordings, something that gave her an actual visual on the building. A recording of a building being demolished played. Several holopics confirmed the destruction and showed the progress of a new building being built in its place.

Adelle dismissed the images and recording with a blink, unable to breathe. She leaned against the wall, staring blindly at the ground.

The mausoleum, the memorial plaques of her parents and the last tie to her mother that she had, had been destroyed to make way for an Imperial Cultural Educational center.

 

[Mishel]

Adelle Bastiel​

The Sentinel stopped listening to Adelle about three sentences in.

Not from disinterest, the opposite, really, but because somewhere between mausoleum and Imperial Cultural Educational center her hearing had gone tinny and her hands had made a decision without consulting the rest of her. The red dots on Adelle's HUD had multiplied. Bootsteps, three sets, coming up the cross-street with the unhurried arrogance of people who owned the block. Gray Socks, closer than the beskar'gam jammer was going to comfortably cover if they turned the corner and got a clean look at two silhouettes tucked under a fire escape doing absolutely nothing.

The brunette grabbed the Mandalorian by the armor.

She slammed her into the wall, with, admittedly, a touch more gusto than the tactical situation strictly required. The impact rang softly off the beskar and the alley wall in equal measure. Somewhere on the parallel street the bootsteps hesitated, then audibly rerouted, the sound of a patrol collectively deciding that whatever was happening in that alley was neither their problem nor their pay grade. Two drunks in the dark. Move along.

Mishel leaned in close enough that her mouth was near the seam of Adelle's helmet, one hand braced flat against the wall beside her head, the spidersilk of her outer wrap crushed carelessly between them. Her voice, when it came, was pitched exactly loud enough to carry to the mouth of the alley and no further.

"Baby," she said, and there was that Brentaalian curl under the word she'd been trying and failing all evening to purge from her vowels, "you were great. Maybe next time we take that Twi'lek home."

She held there. Listened, waited, and listened again.

The bootsteps passed. Kept going. Turned the far corner. Kept going still.

Mishel did not, immediately, let go.

She waited a breath. Then another. Then a third, because whichever officer was walking point had the kind of gait that doubled back for a second look, and Mishel had lived long enough to give patrols an extra count before trusting the silence. The Force around her sat quiet, poised, coiled the way Dalan-Tek trained it to sit, everything ready, nothing committed. Her thumb, entirely of its own initiative, had found the edge of Adelle's cuirass where the plate met the underweave, and stayed there.

The alley kept its silence.

"Sorry about the wall," she murmured, still not stepping back. Still that low, close pitch, though the audience was gone now and the pitch was becoming, second by second, less strictly for anyone else's benefit. "That's coming out of my apology budget for the evening, and I was already running lean."

Her eyes, that honeyed hazel and green she'd inherited from a mother she was trying very hard not to think about tonight, flicked once to the mouth of the alley. Empty. Then back to the T-visor a handspan from her own face.

"You alright under there?"

Internally, and this was the part Mishel would refuse to admit to under oath, under torture, or under the third glass of whatever they served after this was over, she was not entirely sure whether the question was in-character for the bit, or whether the bit had, at some point in the last thirty seconds, quietly stopped being a bit.

She was Corellian enough to grin about it. Just barely.

"...Because that Twi'lek offer stands," she added, drier now, the smile audible if not quite visible, "in the event you were curious." A few more moments went by, Mishel stuck her hands into her jacket, "doesn't have to be a Twi'lek, by the way, just whatever you're into, or not." The Jedi Master cleared her throat, "I'm not normally this forward, I think it's just been a real long time for me." Mhmmm she mused, "anyway, lead the way my caked up friend."

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Mishel

Mishel moved before Adelle even had the chance to realize her HUD’s IFF had issued a warning. She was pulled from her spiral and the world blurred as the Jedi pushed her against the wall with enough force that the sound rang through the durasteel helm. If she hadn’t been wearing her buy’ce, that would have been a bruised skull at least.

But if she hadn’t been wearing her buy’ce, the sudden act Mishel put on would have been far more enjoyable. Adelle instinctively placed her hands on the Jedi’s waist as she moved in, her voice low but loud enough the passing patrol could catch it. Thought fled briefly and her ears burned with the sudden proximity. It was a smart move, faking a drunk encounter, until the patrol moved past. Their footsteps faded and still, Mishel held them there. The Force felt restrained and expectant. Waiting. She knew why—Adelle had worked some undercover jobs with CorSec and had learned the same tactic. Never leave things to chance, play the cover until it was proven the game was up. Adelle was, however, acutely aware of the thumb at the edge of her armor.

Quiet settled back over the alley, until Mishel gave an apology that sounded less like one and more like another flirt. The Jedi’s emotions in the Force also muddied the waters, flowing between the cover and authenticity. She hadn’t stepped away either although the danger was long gone.

"You alright under there?"

“More than.” The words came easily, even if the vocoder roughened the sound. “Regretting the buy’ce a bit.”

"...Because that Twi'lek offer stands," she added, drier now, the smile audible if not quite visible, "in the event you were curious." A few more moments went by, Mishel stuck her hands into her jacket, "doesn't have to be a Twi'lek, by the way, just whatever you're into, or not." The Jedi Master cleared her throat, "I'm not normally this forward, I think it's just been a real long time for me." Mhmmm she mused, "anyway, lead the way my caked up friend."

Mishel finally stepped away after either a quip or another flirt, admitting that it had been a while for her. Adelle watched her for a moment, the hands shoved in pockets, the immediate, Corellian way of layering humor over something that even had the barest hint of being genuine. The Jedi wasn’t the cut and edited super models seen all over the HoloNet but she was very attractive.

“I can work with forward,” Adelle said as she took point, deliberately brushing shoulders as she passed. She cleared her HUD of the Imperial sites and instead pulled up maps of traffic and pedestrian density in the Blue Sector. The Row would be good enough to lose any tails, but it was far too busy to have a decent hideaway. And most of those that did exist were claimed.

“Can’t say that I remember ever getting a third party involved,” she continued, moving from one alley to the next, using the Force and her HUD to alert her to Imperial threats. “But I’m willing to try anything once. If you’re offering, that is.”

The programs had only moved a few percentages since the sudden stop; they likely wouldn’t be done for another hour or so. A place to lie low in the meantime would be ideal—Adelle could plan out how to hit that stupid Imperial building with its stupid Imperial name there.

And maybe she and Mishel could find some stress relief while there.

One spot looked promising: a block of abandoned apartments, priced for wealthy tourists but in an area that didn’t attract the rich. Doubtless they had been stripped of their luxury, but a room was a room and staying out of sight didn’t need to be luxurious.

She’d been in worse places.

 

[Mishel]

Mishel was already trying to plan the next step, even as she smirked at the way the vocoder roughed Adelle's voice into something a full register lower than it had any right to be. Internally, she was telling herself with the moral authority of a Jedi Master, and the persuasive power of exactly no one, to stop while she was ahead.

There was a cough. No, a laugh. A cough that covered a laugh when Adelle said she could work with forward.

Mishel took a step back, giving the Mandalorian room to lead, and fell in behind her as they moved through the Corellian streets. They needed to hide, that much was certain. Where remained to be seen.

A small ribbon of laughter unfurled from Mishel, low enough that it didn't carry past the two of them. "We'd have to find a willing third party." She said it softly, almost thoughtfully, as if she were solving a logistical problem rather than escalating a bit that was, second by second, straining under the weight of how much of it she meant.

She checked her chrono. Ran the math on how long a Gray Sock patrol typically took to loop a district and clear the sector. "How long you think we'll need?"

Long enough, her brain supplied, unhelpfully, immediately, and with the specific inflection of the alter she'd spent decades keeping quiet. Mishel exhaled through her nose. Kept walking. Kept her face pleasant. "We could spar," she offered, easy as anything. Then, because Corellian instinct demanded the follow-through: "Or spar-adjacent. Whatever you're up for."

Adelle Bastiel

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Mishel

A small ribbon of laughter unfurled from Mishel, low enough that it didn't carry past the two of them. "We'd have to find a willing third party." She said it softly, almost thoughtfully, as if she were solving a logistical problem rather than escalating a bit that was, second by second, straining under the weight of how much of it she meant.

She checked her chrono. Ran the math on how long a Gray Sock patrol typically took to loop a district and clear the sector. "How long you think we'll need?"

Adelle turned her head back towards the Jedi, unable to keep the smirk out of her voice. “To find a third party? Hard to say.”

She glanced at the map on her HUD, a flick of her eyes commanding the computer to chart a route to the abandoned apartments. There hadn’t really been a better option and based on pedestrian traffic, they had enough squatters that a Mandalorian and a spacer walking into them wouldn’t be abnormal.

Timing was a bit harder. Adelle turned down another alley, the buildings and debris getting rougher the closer towards the Blue Sector they got. She wanted time to research the layout of the reeducation center. Map the patrol routes, look into security measures. Check its hours and make sure there weren’t any Corellians inside. The two programs wouldn’t be done for a while yet. ETA to the apartments was about fifteen minutes.

"We could spar," she offered, easy as anything. Then, because Corellian instinct demanded the follow-through: "Or spar-adjacent. Whatever you're up for."

Spar or spar-adjacent. Beneath the helmet, the smirk returned wider. She stopped at a cross-section and checked each way briefly before turning left. It had been a tense couple of months between Kor Vella burning and the strike on Yaga Minor. She was overdue some stress relief.

“‘Whatever I’m up for,’ hm?” she said, her own voice low where Mishel’s was light. “Dangerous. You’ll find that in spite of this armor, I’m quite flexible.”

Imperial comms decryption was at thirteen percent. Security protocols for Imperial dispatch at nine percent. Planning she could do in about twenty minutes, give or take. She knew what weapons she’d been able to bring with her and conceal. It was just the nitty-gritty of what the Imperial reeducation center boasted and didn’t boast.

“It’s about a ten minute walk to where I think we’ll be fine for a short break.” Her HUD highlighted two more security holocams ahead. Adelle clenched a fist, crushing both in a shower of sparks. “After that, think you can work with twenty minutes, half hour tops?”

She laid the innuendo on thick in the question.

 

[Mishel]

Mishel could hear the smirk, just about, through the vocoder. She sighed a little. It had been a while, hadn't it. Since Shia.

She shook her head slightly and waited for the Mandalorian to respond. Timing on these sorts of missions was everything, and Mishel had learned young that the best way to survive a walk through hostile territory was to give the person next to you room to think.

"Yeah, y'know. Consent." She gave a wink and then laughed before she could stop it from forming, because Adelle had said she was quite flexible and Mishel was, apparently, only human. "Oh, I'm quite sure you are. See, most people underestimate Mandalorians."

A pause lingered between her words.

"I don't."

Half hour?

Mishel scoffed, playfully. "Maybe. Depends if you're ready. Otherwise, we've got time, no need to rush." She had caught the innuendo. She had caught it several exits ago, in fact. But it would be nothing more than a bit if she had to spend half of the interval coaxing the Mandalorian up to where she needed her to be, and the brunette was, despite the spidersilk, the champagne, the wall, still very much a woman on a job tonight.

"We walkin' casually, then? Nothing out of sorts for a walkin' hunk of metal and little ol' me." She teased, letting the drawl come out where the Corellian in her wanted it. "But by all means, friend. Lead the way. I'll just cover your six."

Adelle Bastiel

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Mishel

The question about walking casually with nothing abnormal about a Mandalorian and a slightly shorter Jedi earned a snort. Adelle led them around a corner, into the current of pedestrians of Treasure Ship Row. She looked back over her shoulder at Mishel.

“Welcome to the Row,” she said lightly. “Cover my six all you want, but I sincerely doubt we’ll have much more trouble unless we make it ourselves.”

In stark contrast to the sketchy alleys and sidestreets they’d just been using to travel, Treasure Ship Row was every inch the iconic tourist destination visitors to Coronet wanted to see. Beings of every kind filled the open air market and Adelle saw a couple buy’ces just in their area alone. She’d like to see the Imperials try to tail them here. Brightly colored tents lined the area and stood in islands amid the sea of people. Colorful signs with neon lights fought to be seen against the sunlight. Conversations were a dull roar all around them, the occasional hawker’s call ringing clearly over the sea of noise.

Visually, she and Mishel had disappeared. And with her beskar’gam’s sensor suite, they’d have a hard time tracking them with anything else.

Adelle kept up her pace though, only slowing enough to seem like she was just another Mandalorian that wanted to get where they were going. The few Imps her HUD did identify as they wove through the crowds were clearly off-duty. She only saw one two-man patrol, a pair of stormtroopers, and while they seemed distracted, Adelle did give them a wide berth.

The crowd began to thin out as they reached the other side of the bazaar, the transition from vibrant tourism to criminal influence abrupt for those unaware of the Blue Sector. The apartment complex Adelle had found sat just on the edge of it, abandoned but the exterior still kept well enough that no one in the Row would notice on first glance. Adelle approached a side door with the confidence of someone that belonged, quietly activating the security blade just in case. The security spike popped out of her vambrace and she inserted it into the door’s lockpad. It took a moment, but the door hissed as it slid open.

Darkness and silence filled the corridor beyond as a few apartment doors lined either side of the hall.

“Honey, we’re home,” Adelle quietly joked as she entered. She passed by the first couple of doors, opting for the last door before the hall emptied out into an equally deserted ground floor lobby. The security spike unlocked the apartment door, and the dusty apartment beyond made it apparent that the building had only just been built when the project died. No appliances, no corporate furnishings. Just empty rooms that only dust bunnies inhabited.

She’d been in worse.

Adelle keyed in a command on her vambrace and set her suit’s computer to drawing up any and all public records and blueprints for the Imperial Cultural Education center. Seals hissed as Adelle pulled off her buy’ce and set it off to the side carefully. She faced Mishel, hands on her hips and a smirk curling the corner of her mouth.

“So, about that spar,” she said. “Or spar-adjacent.”