age of rebellion
The absolute pile of bantha poodoo.
A recurrent thought since Morrow had left her high and dry on Nar Shaddaa. Having given him a good chunk of credits to slip down to that sabacc game, she had to try and make some more. Her first attempt has been to try to rig a sakresh game at the very den Morrow had been in. She asked around about him, learning about the Imperial attack - it had broken her concentration, getting her sleight of hand caught, and a shiner for consequence. Desperation and panic grew in the hours after. Finally, the bounty board had started to look real good, and there was a nice easy target for pickin’; clearly, she never learned. She had managed to catch the guy, but not before spraining her ankle and wading through a pool of sewer sludge in the chase.
The payoff had been meager enough to get Talin back to Coruscant. The X-wing waited where she left it, and their belongings sat safely in the Enclave. She collected the essentials - jacket, credits, bedroll. Instinctually, a hand kept reaching for the dog tag that was missing from around her neck. Despite the dreams, it felt weird without it.
Its departure hadn’t stopped those anyways - but they transformed, no longer pointing to distant stars, but rather rolling back to the same scene time and time again. She was certain now she knew the figure. It didn’t make a lot of sense. He had seemed baffled by her saber - and she didn’t think even a sith could put up an act that well. Shaking her head, Talin sat down on the edge of her bunk, bug bag beside her. The cloak Morrow had left back on Nar Shaddaa was still wadded up and tossed aside messily. It seemed a fat chance she’d find him, but she had to try. Maybe she’d luck out and get payback and answers.
And so she did. Only a few minutes of messin’ with the tattered cloth and a psychometric flash of some apartment building or another came swimming’ to the surface. A dingy corellian flag lay strewn across the floor. A direction, at least. Once she had arrived there, it was harder to follow him. Credits were exchanged for info, his holo was either powered off or unhackable, and every damn building looked the same. It took an entire week, but finally, she had pegged the spot.
The place was dark - an entire neighborhood shutdown by lack of power. Perhaps it just wasn’t worth the cost to repair. Its only inhabitants were rodents, by the look of the rats brave enough to scurry by her feet. Moonlight from the open door highlighted their silvery forms.
Karkin’ slime ball, shurdo….
Talin thought, shivering as another of the pests ran by. Of course, he’d pick somewhere like this. He wasn’t any better than them, by the looks of it. Squeezin’ her eyes tight, she gathered her courage, then let out a slow, controlled breath. A hand went to her holster, and she inched forward beyond the landing, into the hall. Dozens of doors lined it end to end - it was a big place, and three stories high. Yet, she had a feeling, looking at the third door on the left. One step, then another - silent, ‘till broken glass crunched under foot.
“Chit.”
She flew toward the door before he could run, throwing the thing open, then ducked toward the wall to avoid any bolts from the spook.
“I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” She called out from the hall. “But we damn sure are gonna talk.”
Morrow
A recurrent thought since Morrow had left her high and dry on Nar Shaddaa. Having given him a good chunk of credits to slip down to that sabacc game, she had to try and make some more. Her first attempt has been to try to rig a sakresh game at the very den Morrow had been in. She asked around about him, learning about the Imperial attack - it had broken her concentration, getting her sleight of hand caught, and a shiner for consequence. Desperation and panic grew in the hours after. Finally, the bounty board had started to look real good, and there was a nice easy target for pickin’; clearly, she never learned. She had managed to catch the guy, but not before spraining her ankle and wading through a pool of sewer sludge in the chase.
The payoff had been meager enough to get Talin back to Coruscant. The X-wing waited where she left it, and their belongings sat safely in the Enclave. She collected the essentials - jacket, credits, bedroll. Instinctually, a hand kept reaching for the dog tag that was missing from around her neck. Despite the dreams, it felt weird without it.
Its departure hadn’t stopped those anyways - but they transformed, no longer pointing to distant stars, but rather rolling back to the same scene time and time again. She was certain now she knew the figure. It didn’t make a lot of sense. He had seemed baffled by her saber - and she didn’t think even a sith could put up an act that well. Shaking her head, Talin sat down on the edge of her bunk, bug bag beside her. The cloak Morrow had left back on Nar Shaddaa was still wadded up and tossed aside messily. It seemed a fat chance she’d find him, but she had to try. Maybe she’d luck out and get payback and answers.
And so she did. Only a few minutes of messin’ with the tattered cloth and a psychometric flash of some apartment building or another came swimming’ to the surface. A dingy corellian flag lay strewn across the floor. A direction, at least. Once she had arrived there, it was harder to follow him. Credits were exchanged for info, his holo was either powered off or unhackable, and every damn building looked the same. It took an entire week, but finally, she had pegged the spot.
The place was dark - an entire neighborhood shutdown by lack of power. Perhaps it just wasn’t worth the cost to repair. Its only inhabitants were rodents, by the look of the rats brave enough to scurry by her feet. Moonlight from the open door highlighted their silvery forms.
Karkin’ slime ball, shurdo….
Talin thought, shivering as another of the pests ran by. Of course, he’d pick somewhere like this. He wasn’t any better than them, by the looks of it. Squeezin’ her eyes tight, she gathered her courage, then let out a slow, controlled breath. A hand went to her holster, and she inched forward beyond the landing, into the hall. Dozens of doors lined it end to end - it was a big place, and three stories high. Yet, she had a feeling, looking at the third door on the left. One step, then another - silent, ‘till broken glass crunched under foot.
“Chit.”
She flew toward the door before he could run, throwing the thing open, then ducked toward the wall to avoid any bolts from the spook.
“I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” She called out from the hall. “But we damn sure are gonna talk.”
Morrow