Private Shadows over Corellia

[Jason Darklighter]

Jason sighed for a third time and his head thudded back against the headboard.

“We really should get up…”

They needed to avoid the Sith troopers, get to a public data terminal, figure out who was behind the Shadows disappearing, and then find a way to pay off Golga the Hutt.

Or…

He glanced down at the absolute stunner curled into him.

Maybe five more minutes isn’t that bad…

With the hand wrapped around and under her, Jason rubbed a thumb gently back and forth along her back, brushing against the hemline of her shirt. No memories slammed into him, which was a relief.

Getting shot might have been worth it after all.

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

"Hrmm?" She hummed against him as if answering something in her dreams. Instead of jolting her awake, his touch seemed to sooth her back to a quieter sleep. Just a little longer.

When the daylight of Corellia became bright through those curtains, Sol finally began opening her eyes.

Eyes focusing on the body she was curled against. Up to his face, that bridge of his nose. Those Kiffar tattoos. Then snagged on his eyes.

She blinked the sleep away, awakeness coming suddenly and quickly.

"Hey," she uncurled herself but not as quickly as she could have. Should have. "You're really warm, you know that?" Legs swung over the bed as she stood up. With a gesture of her fingers, her boots floated lazily over to her from the doorway. Catching them, she began tugging them on. "I've been thinking about the public terminal. There's one near the spaceport. Might be our best bet. You got a ship?"

 

[Jason Darklighter]

“Yeah,” Jason blinked owlishly as she stood and began tugging on her boots, giving him an interesting view from behind.

Not polite to stare…

The Kiffar detective cleared his throat and looked at the wall.

“Yeah. If the Sith haven’t already tracked it down. Just a YT junker.”

Nothing fancy. Plenty of cargo room though.

Jason got to his feet and followed her lead, donning his boots and his torn coat.

Pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to think, Jason grimaced. He needed a deathstick. It had been twenty four hours. Probably his longest without one so far.

“Alright let’s go.“

Peeking his head out the door, he looked left and right, then stuff his hands inside his duster pockets and started walking.

It didn’t take them long to reach the public terminal. Jason stood there, keeping an eye peeled for the troopers. He didn’t see them yet.

Maybe they’d finally caught a break…

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

She took out her burner comm and quickly connected it to the server. The spaceport was unusually busy. It was a good and bad thing. She didn't like being out in the open with all these people but it also helped hide them in a crowd. As long as her face didn't get snagged on one of the security holos.

"I'm in. Accessing and downloading files. Cover me."

It was a lot of data and the number creeped upward as the files went to her burner comm.

Unfortunately, it was at that moment where protests among the crowds were heard as multiple sith troopers combed the area. And it looked like Corellian Security was working with them. Sol looked upward as a Twi'lek woman screamed and was shoved out of the way, a sith trooper's black helmet scanning toward herself and Darklighter.

68%

"Darklighter? Uh. We've got company but I need more time."

 

[Jason Darklighter]

"These guys really don't give up, do they?" Jason muttered under his breath as he spotted the inbound trooper.

The idea of getting into a firefight in the middle of a crowded area - again - did not particularly appeal to Jason. Sure, sure he cared about innocents but also uh. I don't want to get shot. Again.

Jason looked around, trying to come up with an option that would not engulf the whole place in a firefight. He needed a distraction. A stampede. His eyes found the nearest fire alarm.

"Hang on."

The Kiffar walked over, smashed the glass with a punch that hurt more than he thought it would, then yanked on the alarm handle.

Klaxons began pealing and the civilian traffic went from meandering or businesslike to groans of disbelief. Oh right, Jason forgot how people tended to treat life or death situations like they couldn't be happening until it slapped them in the face.

"Fire!" he shouted.

That got people moving.

When he looked back toward the trooper he could not spot the Sith through the barrage of bodies flowing out.

"There. Should buy you a minute."

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

78%

Darlighter pulled that fire alarm and yelled. Sol ducked her head as the bodies started flowing. She was jostled slightly from behind, her light eyes glued to the loading screen. One hand never left her comm plugged into the terminal.

96%

There were whistles and shouts as the fire brigade droids began streaming into the area. Shouts from folk being shoved by the security force and sith troopers. It was utter, beautiful chaos.

99%

"Still nothing?" She called without taking her eyes off the screen. "Almost there," she murmered. "C'mon c'mon,' she breathed.

100%

Fingers snatched the comm from the terminal and shoved it safely into her pocket just as she was bumped and jostled into the streaming bodies. For a moment, she'd disappear completely from Jason Darklighter 's view. The chaos was like a beast itself. A living breathing thing. There would be a moment when he might think she was just...gone. Had left him. A moment that stretched into what might be reality.

He'd suddenly feel a sharp tug on his hand as her fingers entwined with his own. Careful not to brush any of her clothing against his skin. "Hope your ship is fueled and ready to go. C'mon."

 

[Jason Darklighter]

He could not see her anywhere. Where had she gone?

I lost her...

A moment of panic before the gut punch of reality came in the form of a thought. HIt him right there as he stood stock still, getting jostled by the people all around him.

Or she lost me... clever girl.

Who could blame her? Saving her own skin and leaving a nerfherder like him behind only made sense. That kind of streetsmart survival sense you get from being betrayed too many times. Too many nights hungry. Jason understood.

Can't blame her for-

A soft hand slipped into his then jerked hard on his fingers.

Oh.

Jason looked down. There she was, dragging him through the starport. Not abandoning him after all.

"It has fuel," he replied, stuffing down his emotions like a bunch of trash in a bag that could surely fit more before it needed to be tossed. "Just don't expect some Naboo type shit."

Pushing their way through the crowd, they made it to the section of the starport where his ship was located. The ZH-25 Questor-class vessel was no luxury vessel by any stretch of the imagination. It looked like a cockpit welded between two giant pylons. Still, inside there was plenty of room considering that Jason didn't really do much cargo hauling. He thought of it as home. As much as any home he had these days.

Activating the ramp, Jason tossed a look over his shoulder to see if they were still being tailed.

Not that he could tell... but he had a tingling up and down his spine. They weren't out of danger yet.

"Let's move," he grunted, stalking onto the ramp and making straight for the cockpit. He threw himself into the pilot's seat and started making emergency jump calculations quick as he could. He briefly glanced out the window... then did a double take.

Two Sith troopers were approaching, blasters raised.

"Oh hell."

Red jets of plasma blossomed from their gun barrels and hurtled toward the cockpit. The shields flickered, taking the hits.

"We gotta go," Jason muttered, lifting them off the ground in a hurry and accelerating up into low atmosphere with a roar of the engines. "Maybe we try the other side of the planet?"

He looked at Solara.

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

Jason Darklighter

The ramp had barely finished closing before Sol was moving. She dropped his hand. Her boots hit the deck at a jog, pale eyes sweeping over the ship's interior. Functional. Worn. Lived in. The sort of place someone patched together instead of replacing. A home.

She'd had one of those once.

Her jaw tightened.

"Wouldn't know what to do with Naboo-type chit anyway." Her tone more playful than she felt. One hand skimmed along the bulkhead as she followed him into the cockpit. The lingering emotions of the market still clung to her like smoke. Fear. Rage. Determination. It all bled together until she couldn't quite tell where everyone else ended and she began. Fingers found her temple.

Just breathe.

The engines rumbled to life beneath her boots.A glance out the viewport. Black armor.

"Well..."

The first volley splashed harmlessly against the shields in a wash of crimson light.

"...kriff."

She dropped into the copilot's seat more out of instinct than invitation, one boot hooking beneath the console as the ship lurched skyward. The familiar weightlessness twisted her stomach before inertia shoved her back into the seat. His question pulled her attention from the shrinking city below. "The other side of the planet?" A sandy brow climbed. "You really think people with enough resources to track me across half of Corellia are just gonna shrug and call it a day because we flew east?"

Another blast rattled the shields.

She winced. "They found us too fast." Too organized. Too prepared. And all disturbing because it was in High Republic space. How were sith getting away with this? What political figure had they paid off? She had to wonder again if there were even any jedi left.

Her gaze drifted toward the viewport, though her focus wasn't on the troopers anymore. The Force reached outward instead, brushing against the panic flooding the starport below and searching for something colder. Someone directing all of this.

A familiar ache settled behind her eyes.

"Kriff." The curse came quieter this time. Her fingers were already moving across the nav display, pulling up nearby systems with practiced speed. "We need somewhere crowded. Somewhere farther away from here." A quick flicker of her eyes to Jason. "What about Denon or Nar Shadda?"

 

[Jason Darklighter]

She’s right.

Jason closed his eyes in resignation.

There really was only one place to go… and he’d thought he left it in the rear view by coming here.

“Nar Shaddaa,” he sighed, “They have the infochant networks we want. And I need to get ahead of my bills before we get another Aqualish visitor.”

The detective started punching in the coordinates and punched it.

The blue whorl of hyperspace engulfed them. Jason thunked his head back against the headrest.

Fuck me.

Jason pulled himself out of the seat.

“I need a drink.”

Moving out of the cockpit, he turned the corner into the common area and galley and started opening cabinets until he found the bottle of Whyren’s Reserve. Jason poured himself a cup. Looked at it, then poured himself a little more.

He raised up the bottle toward Solara Gale and raised an eyebrow, before pouring her a cup regardless.

“So. Solara. Sol.” He offered her the cup. “How’d you end up a Jedi?”

 

[Solara Gale]

For the first time since Corellia, nobody was shooting at them. She pushed herself out of the copilot's seat with a quiet groan, rolling one shoulder where it'd kissed the speeder door earlier. The adrenaline was wearing off. Which meant every bruise was suddenly filing a complaint.

"Funny when Nar Shaddaa is the better option," she harumphed.

She followed Jason into the galley, pale eyes immediately abandoning him in favor of the bottle he'd unearthed. Fancy. She knew about quality and expensive when she saw it. But it had been awhile since she'd experienced it. Stars, she'd be thankful if she never had a ration bar again.

One sandy brow lifted.

"Look at you," she said, accepting the poured glass. "Buying me breakfast and offering me booze? You're either incredibly polite or you've got terrible survival instincts." She poured it back, hard and neat, Immediately regretted such a confident move.

A cough escaped into the back of her fist as warmth burned all the way down. "Kriff," she rasped. "I missed this."

Her thumb traced the rim of the glass. "You still sussing me out Darklighter?"

The question hung there.

"My folks sent me there when I started showing signs." A small shrug. She leaned against the counter, gaze drifting toward the viewport where hyperspace bled endless blue. Her empathic senses brushed against Jason without meaning to: Weariness, something heavier underneath?

She didn't pry.

Instead she tipped her empty glass toward him. "So," a faint grin returned. "Detective. You have a plan for getting your debt paid off. You sure you wanna tote around a fugitive wanted by the sith and...what's left of the jedi?"

 

[Jason Darklighter]

"Well, way I figure...." Jason drained the entire glass in a gulp. The heat burnt down his throat and stung until it curdled into warmth in his stomach.

"...is I don't have too many people left. Jedi or otherwise."

The investigator poured himself another glass and sipped this one more slowly, eyes narrowing at the taste. Smooth.

"If you really are selling out your own, then you have one hell of an act and I am probably fucked anyway."

Shrugging the uninjured arm in an echo of her own earlier shrug, Darklighter looked at her as she leaned against the counter. "Survival instincts... common courtesy... dunno. Working for the Hutts, they're known to use a pretty face now and again to get what they want. Thought I'd been inoculated."

Jason snorted and shook his head, mentally laughing at himself. Him and a girl like her? No way.

"But once we reach the Smuggler's Moon there's a guy I know. Sets up jobs for me. Digging into exes, tracking down dirt on a boss. Stuff like that. Goes pretty fast," He held up a hand and wiggled his fingers. Psychometry did come in handy in that regard, "Should get us enough to keep the Hutts off my back, then we can get back to what's been going on with the Jedi. I could always use a partner..."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Assuming you don't want to take off when we hit Nar Shaddaa."

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

Sol's gaze lingered on the amber liquor swirling lazily in Jason's glass before drifting back to his face. Not too many people left. Yeah. She knew that feeling a little better than she cared to admit. For once, there wasn't a joke waiting at the tip of her tongue. Just a quiet huff through her nose as she reached over, stole the bottle without asking, and poured herself a much more generous measure than he had.

"Hmph, a pretty face," she muttered, lifting the glass in a mock toast. His offer lingered. Partner. Her eyes dropped to the rim of her glass as she took a burning swallow. That was dangerous language. Not because she disliked it. Because she did.

Maybe too much.

She had partnered with people before. Trusted them. Built something that looked almost like a future. Most of them were dead. The others, well, she hoped they eventually got what they deserved.

"They always say partner before the blaster fire starts," she said lightly, though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's in the handbook." Silence settled for a beat as she rolled the glass between her palms.

Could disappear there. Lose herself in a crowd. Pick up another name. Another jacket. Another bad apartment with questionable plumbing. Start over. Again. But if she had a chance of getting out of this mess she'd been living in for so long, she was willing to give it a shot. To try.

"I've gotten good at running. But it might be nice to try something new."

A crooked smirk returned, gentler this time. "You did take a blaster bolt for me." A tilt of her head. "And I did throw my pie at a sith trooper because of you. So I guess we kind of owe each other now." One shoulder rose in an easy shrug.

A finger lifted toward him. "Couple ground rules, though." Another sip. "You don't get yourself shot on purpose." A second finger joined the first.
"And if we're working together," her grin widened into something unmistakably mischievous, "you're buying breakfast more often than not." And as the alcohol began to hit her with those warm and fuzzies, she added.

"I eat a lot. And..." something more vulnerable flickered across her face. "We promise to tell each other the truth. Fair?"

 

[Jason Darklighter]

She did eat a lot, but Jason had seen a thing or two so he knew a thing or two. Sol could say she ate a lot. Jason could not.

Or I could, but I'd need to make sure there were no pies within her reach.

Dangerous things, pies.

"The truth huh."

Tough sell, given their respective backgrounds. But what the hell.

"Fair. I don't have anything to hide."

Jason's mouth twitch up in the ghost of a smile. If she was any kind of Force User at all, she could probably sense the joke behind the words.

Ticking off the agreement on his fingers he muttered, "No getting shot. Food," his eyes glanced up to meet hers, "No secrets."

He raised an eyebrow. "So, partner, how did you earn a living on the streets after the Jedi? Something tells me you weren't selling fortunes. Anything that would come in hand getting some credits on Nar Shaddaa?"

A Jedi had to have some Force tricks up her sleeve.

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

Jason Darklighter

Ah, how had she survived so long? It was a lot of scrapping and scrambling. Being so kriffin' lucky. She took a long drag of her second glass until it was gone. Frowning at the empty bottom, she set it on the counter, eyes traveling back to Jason's.

"I found things people lost. Sometimes I pretended not to notice when the thing they lost was probably stolen."

She stole what she needed.

"Very glamorous life."

The corner of her mouth pulled upward. "Really missed the Temple dining hall. No, wait. That's a lie. I missed having someone else cook."

A little more serious now.

"Force tricks don't exactly advertise well. Too many people looking for Jedi. Too many people looking for ways to make a Jedi disappear. Sometimes I can be subtle about it."

But that was fething hard.

How many cards did she want to lay on the table in front of her new partner? Maybe one more. If she wanted to establish some trust.

"I'm good at reading people. Picking up on their emotions. It's helped me avoid some bad situations and get out of others. Unfortunately, not the one that mattered the most." A sad smile curled the edges of her lips. Making that star-shaped scar twist at the corner of her mouth. The ship shuddered beneath her booted feet and she swayed as that liquor worked in her bloodstream.

Yeah, a lttle too much.

"Who're your contacts on Nar Shadda? Think that guy you know will give us something we can do, y'know, with my magical powers?" She worked a little too hard to keep her voice clear of giving away the alcohol's influence.

 

[Jason Darklighter]

Interesting. Empathic connection. Jason had heard of that, but did not remember meeting any Jedi who had it.

Now, Zeltrons on the other hand…

He shook his head at the memory. Best not to think about Zeltros right now.

“Funny you mention it. There’s an information broker there that runs a network and usually has a job or two. With your skill set and mind, I think we’d make a pretty good team.”

Jason actually did feel confident about that as he sipped the last of his whiskey.

With her ability to read people and his ability to read objects they could probably crack a case in a day or two, easy.

Jason frowned. Wait a minute. If she was as sensitive as a Zeltron to emotions then… she knew exactly how attractive he found her. Oh. That was awkward.

The ex-cop scratched the back of his head and tried to think of a way to distract her from the bleed over of embarrassment she probably felt emanating from him.

Clearing his throat, Jason stepped toward the refabricator.

“Uhh, you want a nerf steak? I don’t have a grill so that fabricator will have to do. When we hit Nar Shaddaa we’ll go some place with real food.”

He started punching in buttons before she could answer and the sound of fresh sizzling meat came from the fabricator. Jason turned around and looked at her. Well. He tried not to, but then his eyes got sucked into hers. Like they were magnets.

“Hey.”

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

Sol was definitely a little buzzed. Feth, she should drink more often. She liked the numbness. That constant onslaught of emotions from others was nicely dulled. She may not be able to sense any specific emotion from Jason but she could pick up on his sudden - weirdness.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket and wandered closer, pretending to inspect the ancient fabricator like it held the secrets of the Force. "I'll take fabricated over ration bars." The smell of sizzling meat made her stomach betray her with a growl.

Traitor.

When he turned around, she found him looking at her again.

"...Hey."

Sol blinked once. A slow one. Brows pinching together in confusion and mock concern. Maybe a touch of real concern. "Are you...okay?" Head cocked to the side. The fabricator was behind him. Why was he looking at her like that? He needed to focus on the importance of feeding a starving Jedi! She took a step toward him and swayed, catching herself on the kitchenette counter. A soft snort left her nose, a throaty-chuckle bubbling up.

"I-uh-haven't had that much to drink in awhile," stars it felt good to laugh. She hadn't laughed like this in awhile. She hauled herself back upright and took another swaying step toward Jason Darklighter , putting her hand firmly on her partner's chest. Giving him a light smack, before letting it settle there, index finger idly tapping against his chest, pale eyes drifting to his own. "But are you okay?"

Her stomach growled again.

 

[Jason Darklighter]

Blinking down owlishly at the hand pressed firmly against his chest, Jason grunted noncommittally. Her finger tapped almost in rhythm with his heartbeat. The warmth of her palm bled through the fabric of his shirt. He swallowed.

Why did she have to get so close? And look at him like that?

“Yeah.”

Too much booze.

Behind him, the fabricator beeped. Salvation.

Thank the Force.

”Food’s ready,” he grunted, turning around too quickly and breaking the contact of her hand on his chest as he did.

Jason grabbed some dishes and utensils, then put the plates of nerf steak on the small table in the common area along with a bottle of Corellian Steak sauce. He grabbed two glasses of water too because he figured they probably should be cut off by now before they made any mistakes. Or at least he should be.

He couldn’t remember the last good decision he made while buzzed, though at the time they all seemed great ideas. That was the problem.

“Here you go,” Jason pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. “Bare bones but like you said. It’s not a ration bar. And we aren’t being hunted through the gutters by Sith troopers at the moment. Small victories.“

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

She frowned as her turned. She'd been about to put the back of her palm to his forehead to see if he had the fever. "Okay, well. You're acting strange, though." She tapped him lightly on the back and moved away. Managing to land safely in one of the empty chairs at the small table. Everything was bolted down.

"Thanks for making sure I don't starve," she quipped as she dug in. "Chit, that's good." Only more evidence to the garbage she'd been surviving on for the past few months. Chewing and swallowing, she snatched up that glass of water. A fleeting frown at it not being something else.

Part of it wobbled out and splashed onto the table and dribbled down her wrist as she raised it toward Darklighter in a toast.

"To small victories and new partnerships and harboring a jedi. A hungry one." A crooked smile flashed his way before she tipped the water back. Water was set down. Then she frowned and leaned forward, maybe that buzz of alcohol making her more bold than usual - less aware of personal boundaries -as she brushed her thumb lightly across the corner of his mouth. "You got some sauce there."

 

[Jason Darklighter]

“Hm?“

Jason stared stupidly at her as she wiped her thumb against the corner of mouth. The touch gentle and soft and warm, like the depths of her eyes. Kind.

Not.

Helpful.

He raised his glass in the toast and drank quickly before he said anything dumb, gulping for several long seconds until he’d drained all the water from his cup.

“To fugitives,” he chuckled darkly, having formerly led a Fugitive Hunting Task Force in a different life.

“You deserve better than nerf steak from a fabricator. We get to Nar Shaddaa, get some money in our pockets, we will go to a place with real food.”

The corner of his eye twitched.

“Maybe less booze. You know how they are. Heavy pours.”

The detective glanced at the far corner of the room, trying to avoid thinking about what he’d seen when he’d touched her jacket.

“What will you do with your share? Not that it’s any of my business.”

Solara Gale

 

[Solara Gale]

She sat back, wiping that thumb on her napkin. A mildly-offended look crossed her face, though the lopsided grin never left her lips. "Less booze? I'm Corellian," a slight slur on that last word. "I can handle my liquor just fine thank you very much." It was clear she couldn't.

A few rapid blinks.

"Hm," elbow propped on the table, hand upturned as she let her chin rest in its embrace. Pale eyes never left Jason's.

He was still acting all funny.

And she was mildly concerned he'd come down with something like the nerf flu, when they'd been on Corellia. "'Sides pay you back for all the food?" A raise of those sandy brows. A glint of mischief in them. "Dunno yet. Forgot what it's like to have credits. Have to clear the name first." Free hand pointed to the ceiling, one finger raised.

"Though I doubt any of those jedi are left looking for me unless they made it to the High Republic. Did you know my folks have a bounty on me too?"

Okay, tipsy Sol wasn't the most discreet person.

"I think it's cause they are worried and they care. Or they just care more about me not ruining the family name." Hand dropped as she idly picked at nothing on the table. Her steak finished. Her gaze turned downward. "You close with your family Darklighter?"