Private Guilty Pleasure

[Arlo Renard]

The Atrisian food vendor had no official name; the crooked sign above the counter simply read “Atrisian Food” in plain Basic. A bald-headed cook labored behind the counter, where customers sat on stools on the opposite side and ate bowls of steaming noodles, meat, or vegetables. Despite the nondescript appearance of the establishment, it was quite popular.

Kai sat on a stool at the far left end, his chin balanced on his hand as he watched other patrons eat. There was nothing unusual or particularly interesting about the sight of people chewing their food, yet the look on his boyish face was suffused with as much enjoyment as if he were the one eating.

“Hey!” the cook said, jolting him out of his reverie. “You gonna sit here and stare at my customers, or you gonna order something?”

Kai looked at the cook, his brow furrowing in concentration. After a few seconds under the boy’s scrutiny, the cook blinked. “Are you deaf or something? Reading my lips?”

Kai sighed and shook his head. He made a gesture with his hand.

“What is this?” The cook imitated the gesture. “Sign language? Or are you throwing up gang signs? Do you even understand me? Basic, do you speak Basic?”

Irritated, Kai grabbed a menu and pointed to an item. The cook squinted at it, then snorted as he turned back to his grill. “Alright, silence. Long as you can pay…”

Kai made another gesture with his hand, holding his hand out with palm facing down, then flipping his hand over to reveal a few credits. Enough to pay for the meal.

“Cool magic trick. You must be a hit with all the other kids.”

Bernard of Arca​

 

[Bernard of Arca]

Few denizens of the underworld in Galactic City had the funds to afford premium construction materials. On the surace of the planet-spannning city a duracrete and durasteel forest of cloudcutters boasted the finest glasteel windows that could weather most any dangers short of a laser cannon. But, the lower one ventured, the greater the loss in quality of building materials became apparent. It wasn't uncommon to find buildings and shacks still cobbled together from artificial wood and off-brand permacrete bricks, built with techniques that had been thought lost for millennia.

So it wasn't surprising to Bernard when the windows of the diner shattered with loud cracks as he punched his quarry against them. Had he been in a more amicable mood, perhaps with several dozen more hours of sleep in the last week, he might have been more careful and noticed the structural risk behind his target. But as it stood the hunt for this particular criminal had been critical enough that it gave little in the way of opportunities for rest.

The criminal crashed inside the diner, further shattering the glass shards under him with an audible crunch as more window debris clattered to the floor. Bernard didn't waste another moment, and leapt through the improvised entrance, drawing his lightsabre in the process. The criminal was still prone on his back, still stunned from the impact. The glass had scratched up some of his carapace, and by the lack of any blood, Bernard figured none of the wounds had been deep enough to do any real damage. This one really was tough as a gundark.

Bernard thumbed the activation switch, and the ice-blue blade came to life. He landed with one knee on the criminals chest, the other at his side, and brought the lightsabre to the criminal's throat.

It was still unclear to him how a Sithspawn had made it all the way to Coruscant, much less how it could be sentient enough to rob several merchants, but his hunt had finally come to an end, and answers to those questions seemed to finally be within reach.

"Move a muscle and you're dead."

Arlo Renard

 

[Arlo Renard]

The cook placed a steaming bowl of cooked meat before Kai. The boy eagerly picked up his fork, but before he could dig in, a crashing sound from across the street drew his attention.

A buglike creature had been punched through a diner window by a white-haired man. As Kai focused on the scene, it abruptly came into focus in the Force: the tainted aura of the insectoid was as recognizable as his own shadow.

The Sithspawn’s name was unpronounceable to most, so the denizens of the Sithspawn Sanctorium had taken to simply calling him Ax. He was one of their newest members, and while they were aware he had a criminal record, it consisted of shoplifting and other forms of petty thievery. Now that he had a place to live among his fellow Sithspawn, it was hoped that Ax would no longer have any need to steal from others.

Kai heard the hum of an ignited lightsaber in the hand of the white-haired man. His mind flashed back to one terrible night. White hair, white blade. His throat ached with the phantom pains of an old wound. Even if he had tried to eat, he couldn’t have gotten a mouthful down.

But Kai was no longer hungry, and something had to be done to help Ax. The boy picked up his bowl with both hands, hopped down from the stool, and dashed across the street.

<Hey!> he exclaimed, targeting the Jedi with his telepathy. <Leave him alone, you big bully!>

He lobbed the bowl of hot food straight at the man’s head.

Bernard of Arca​