Private Shadows over Corellia

[Jason Darklighter]

S H A D O W S
O V E R
C O R E L L I A

​

Another Taungsday passes and I am sitting here wondering what the hells I am still doing on this place.

Corellia.

A planet whose inhabitants claim to have jet fuel for blood and every freighter captain swears to be an ace pilot. They walk around with chips on their shoulders so big, it's a wonder they fit through the door. Then I remember how their planet got smashed decades ago and I wonder how those chips aren't any bigger.

We are right on the edge of High Republic Space. Some might say that is where civilization started, the Core.

Not anymore.

After the Galactic Alliance fell to the Empire, then the Empire suffered that catastrophe with a third Death Star, every Sith seemed to crawl out of the woodworks to run and play warlord in the Core. Every long hauler I talk to coming back from Core space has this look to them. Like they've looked into hells and seen death staring at them.

But that's why I am here.

A lot of Jedi went missing after the Alliance fell. You expect that in conflict, I guess. But these were not your average Jedi Knights. They were Shadows. The real deal. Way too smart and capable to be caught flat footed. Even by the Sith. Something did not feel right about it, and I am not just saying that because a lot of them were my friends from back in my days with the Corellian Security Force. Call it a gut feeling, but I'd rather trust that these days than anything on the holoscreens.

Which brings me back to here. This diner. Waiting.

Jason closed the journal entry and slid his datapad back into the pocket of his duster coat. He leaned back in the booth and looked around, umber gaze scanning the faces for any sign of his contact. It had been a while since he had been back on Corellia and his few remaining friends on CorSec were skeptical of the jobs he'd been taking out in the Rim. Private Investigator... for Hutts? He could already see the expressions of disgust on their faces.

Darklighter wondered if that would change when they saw the paychecks the Hutts had cut him. Of course most of that went to the debts he owed, but he was almost free of them.

Almost.

"What'll you have, hun?"

Jason looked up at the waiter. "Just caf, thanks."

"Sugar? Cream?"

"Nah."

"Here you go," the waiter poured him a mug and Jason picked it up and took a slow sip, the mild stimulant sparking clarity in his groggy eyes. Too many late nights.

"Thanks."

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

Whelp.

Didn't think she'd be haunting the familiar streets and alleyways of her home so soon. But her belt had become a little too loose. Sol was desperate for credits. Which made her desperate for a job. Shocking how hard it was to find employment without disclosing papers or her real name. Hesitating, half in the shadows of the broken-neon sign of Cabaret Cabana, her pale eyes landed on a well-dressed couple.

They were in the wrong side of town to be wearing those threads.

To think, she'd been one of them not too long ago.

A quiet shake of her head and with a jam of her cold fingers into the thrifted dark brown leather jacket, her brisk pace took her into the dim lighting of the Cafe. A slide of her boots quickly to the left as a glint from a screen caught her eye. Had there always been this many public cameras here? A quick glance at a datapad within the depths of her jacket pockets. Then a scan of her eyes around the room.

There he was.

Dark skin. Dark hair. Kiffar tattoo. And...tired...frustrated?

The empath couldn't help but pick-up on his feelings even if she didn't mean to.

A quick glance around the place to make sure this wasn't some jedi trap. Even after the fall of the Alliance and the temple, it wasn't like she still wasn't a fugitive. For the moment, she didn't feel any deception. Good enough for her. With a growl of her stomach, she stepped forward and slid into the seat across from Jason Darklighter .

"Hey," as if she'd known him her whole life. Fingers plucked up a sticky menu. That's what was good about this place. Things weren't all holo. They were things you could touch and feel. "Jason, right? I'm Sam." The lie was easy. Her stomach growling was not. "You're buying, right? You ever tried the nuna scramble?"

 

[Jason Darklighter]

In came the dame, trying to blend in with that thrifted jacket, but with a face that would never let her pass for a nobody. The hungover Gran at the diner’s bar suddenly became lucid and practically broke his neck with a three-eyed double-take.

Sure, Jason would have too if he wasn’t staring right at her. Beautiful, but dangerous. Like Coruscant at night. All that glitter, but beneath it… daggers.

He took a long, slow sip of his caf as he studied her before replying. It would be too noticeable to reach out and grab her jacket right then and there to see what her story really was. She would either assume he was tripping or know that he was using psychometry on her. And people didn’t tend to like that much. Especially people with something to hide.

So he did not reach out to shake her hand either, just watched her levelly.

“No, but one diner scramble is as good as the next.”

They probably had a giant vat of artificial liquid they made it from in the kitchen.

“And yeah, I’ll buy.”

Paying for meals was one of the easiest ways to get into good graces. But like the saying went, there was no such thing as a free lunch. He didn’t need to say it. She already knew.

“That accent. You grow up here or just spend too long planetside, Sam?” his eyes went to the small scar at the corner of her mouth. His brows creased. His own accent was the more rusty version of hers, having spent so long in the Corellian Security Force, though he had picked up a few Huttese colloquialism since then.

He suspected she wouldn’t answer truthfully, so he rolled into his next question anyway. “You think you can help with my missing Jedi problem?”

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

"You've got a good ear. 'Suppose you would have to in your line of work." A flicker of her gaze lingering a little too long on his tattoo before traveling back to the menu as the waiter approached. His question left unanswered. Trying not to look too eager but failing miserably Sol launched into her order as the waiter gave her a questioning look.

"That'll be all?"

"And a side of dewberry pie."

"Alright. Should be out soon, hun."

"Oh, can we make that a la mode?"

"Sure thing."

Handing off the menu, Sol leaned back in her chair, her eyes clashing against Jason's. A small frown tugged at the corner of her mouth. He was...restraining himself with something? She brushed that feeling aside. A clench of her jaw at his question. It was a dangerous place for jedi in the 'verse right now. The smart ones left went to the High Republic or somewhere VERY far away. Or just stayed dead. Knowing anything about those jedi was also dangerous. It's a good thing danger was her normal dance partner.

"You're not what I expected by the way. Different from what he mentioned." Her back left her chair as she leaned in a little, elbows propping up on the coffee-stained table. Voice lowered. "I've got some information. How many credits is it worth to you?"

 

[Jason Darklighter]

The Kiffar's brows knit together further as 'Sam' launched into her order.

Just an appetite? Or stuck on the streets without a good meal...

Questions led to more questions. The way she leaned forward on her elbows and asked about credits was not reassuring, but Jason knew everyone had to have an allegiance. Maybe credits were hers. Or maybe she was desperate.

She said he was different. Well. Maybe he was different. A lot had changed since Jason served with their mutual friend in the Corellian Security Force.

Jason waited until he was sure the waiter was out of earshot before answering her.

"Worth at least a slice of pie and a hot meal," he reached into his duster's pocket and produced a small cred chit, "And maybe a little more if your information is not a total dead end."

Slurping his caf, Jason glanced out the window, then back to Sam. "I had friends in the Jedi. All missing, presumed dead. I know the why," he grimaced, "I want to know the how."

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

Sol leaned back. An unexpected whisper of relief cut through her rising nerves. She trusted her friend. But there was always a chance this contact had been a trap. Unless he was a REALLY good actor, so far so good.

She just didn’t know if…

“Here ya go, hun.” Plates of food were mercifully slid in front of the hungry fugitive. And she was not shy about digging in. Shoveling those Nina eggs into her mouth like they might be her last good tasting something for awhile. She swallowed as the waiter left.

“Yeah, a lot of people died,” she wasn’t talking about what the sith did. But it didn’t matter. That was the same. A lot of people still were dying. When she’d run away, she’d kept in touch with a few she could trust. But a lot of those lines had gone dark.

“I know this’ll probably cut off some of those credits,” eyes flickered from his face to that card. “I wasn’t there when it happened. When the sith came.”

 

[Jason Darklighter]

Jason just nodded.

“Probably why we are having this conversation.”

The muscles in his forearm tensed as he curled his fingers into a fist, then uncurled them.

“If you had been in the know, you would likely be dead alongside them. But that doesn’t mean your information is useless.”

Umber eyes watched her devouring the food in front of her. How long had she been trying to make it on her own?

“Have you heard anything about survivors? Anyone you still keep in touch with?”

Behind Jason came the sound of the diner door opening and raised voices. He frowned. What was all that about? He started to turn around.

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

There he was again, not meeting her expectations.

In a good way.

“Yeah, there’s…”

Black visors of three entered the cafe behind Jason. Sith insignia on their shoulders. Vibroblades and pistols at their sides. One was holding up some sort of device. Scanner maybe? Eyeless gaze locked onto their table. What the feth were they doing on Corellia!?

Sol ducked but it was too late because they were walking over.

“Chit.”

Chair scraped behind her as she stood. Had she been double crossed? One of the troopers raised a blaster. “Freeze!” The mechanical voice hissed. Her gaze darted from Jason to the trooper.

Like Sheoul she was. With a split second of mourning, a flick of her fingers sent her pie slice from her plate and into the man’s visor just as his blaster went off.

Kriff. She’d been REALLY looking forward to eating that.

 

[Jason Darklighter]

Hot plasma exploded through the wall next to Jason and the afterimage of the crimson energy sheath danced in his eyes. The smell of tibanna discharge and melted plasteel filled his nose.

No time to think. Only to act.

Jason moved out of his seat and slammed his body weight onto the nearest enforcer, trying to bowl all three over in a tangle of limbs.

“Go!” He shouted.

A blaster wouldn’t do much against these armored troopers, but Jason had more than just a holdout pistol at his disposal. Hand dipping inside a pocket, he pulled out his net gun and fired half-blind. The net barely had time to expand, but the electrified netting crackled to life and he heard a yelp as he moved toward the exit.

One of the troopers was firing, blaster bolts kicking indiscriminately around the patrons of the diner. Then one struck Jason and he grunted. Pain flared in his right arm just above the elbow. He didn’t know how bad it was, just knew he needed to keep moving. He burst out the doors of the diner and looked for “Sam.”

“We need to get out of here,” he growled, looking for his airspeeder.

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

Feelings of panic and anger threatened to pull her under and drown her as folk screamed and ran. Jason Darklighter didn’t have to tell her twice. She ducked toward the door.

A sharp elbow ran into her ribs. A shoulder smacked into hers. One of the sith troopers pivoted, his hand snaking at the fabric of the back of her jacket.

“SOLARA-“

Fingers pinched something from her toolbelt as she was spun around to face him. And suddenly, there was a fireball she flung at his mask. It was enough to make him release her and stagger back.

Keep moving.

She felt burning flesh. A wave of pain that wasn’t hers as she stumbled out the doors. Sharp look to Jason as she used the force to shove a speeder bike (hopefully not his) against the closed doors behind them.

It wouldn’t give them much time but a few seconds.

“No chit. You drive. I know these streets.” The door behind them suddenly exploded open with an invisible force.