Private Without a Hitch

[Faegard]

J O V A N S T A T I O N

I always felt... safer, in the outer rim.

Oh yes, I'm well aware how paradoxical that sounds. The outer rim isn't nearly as policed as the core or mid rim territories. It's wild out here, dog-eat-dog, everyone fends for themselves. Maybe that's what I like about it. No one's watching me, they're all watching themselves. I'm free to quietly slip past without drawing any attention to myself. But even my baby, the Phantasm, has finite fuel stores and food storage.

So here I am, on Jovan Station, keeping to myself while my ship is refuelled and resupplied.

I hope I don't stand out too much. It had become a habit to make a mental headcount of the people around me, particularly when I couldn't make a quick getaway. How many humans? What's the standard fashion? Do I match the local decorum or stick out like a sore thumb? With a dark hooded cloak and a few chimes of bone and leather hanging from my belt, thankfully I figured didn't look too out of place. It wasn't like the core systems where high fashion and well-groomed glitter and glam was the norm.

The diner was quaint, music played softly from the speakers as I sat at the bar, head bent over my datapad as I idly picked at my food. I barely noticed the figure take a seat next to me at first, and when I did, I merely figured them for a customer. So the surprise made my heart skip a beat when the figure leaned towards me, the aroma of cologne and mystery pervading my senses. As he spoke I stole a glance at him out of the corner of my eye; a chiss.

"What color is a Dathomirian sunset?" he asked.

My jaw clenched, my breath catching in my throat as a cold wave of panic washed over me. How did he know I'm Dathomirian? Could he sense it? Was he a Sith spy? Was he testing my loyalty? I could feel my fingers clenching around the datapad resting on the bench. Would he drag me off to some inquisitor if I answered incorrectly? Think, Faegard! What would he want you to say? The Sith controlled my homeworld right now...

"Crimson, my brother."

Okay, that sounded stupid. Brother? What are you thinking, silly girl? Oh I get so flustered when I panic! I could feel my head spinning, my breaths quick and ragged as I forced myself to try and remain as calm as possible. Surely I had just made a fool of myself, how could I--

I suddenly felt something small shoved into my lap and by the time I recovered from the surprise, the Chiss was gone.

Glancing down, I collected it into my hands. It was a parcel, not much bigger than my palm, wrapped in fabric.

What the hells?

 

[Wynter Rackham]

Faegard

The smuggler life was a good one.

Oh, you didn't get a lot of good food on the travel, but you got to see many sights. The things I have seen across the Galaxy... it would blow your mind and then some. Jovan on the other hand wouldn't blow anyone's mind. One of the many trade hubs around the Galaxy. It catered to that clientele that bridged the gap between Wild Space and the Outer Rim. Lots of bartering, hooting, many drinking holes and bustling docking yards. Really, there was nothing special about it.

But a job was a job, no?

The Fool 's contact in the Sith Empire had been a gold mine for us. Now she wanted something smuggled out of the Empire. Which was a weird request, but hey.

It paid and that was that.

Then again, what I wasn't expecting was my contact to be an utter fethin' walnut. I watched as he sat next to the wrong person. No worries though, right, that's what the code phrase was for. Then I watched as he whispered it in her ear. Watched as she responded. Watched as the karking idiot actually passed her the package.

What was the odds that she'd get it right?!

Was this a set-up?

It could be, but right now all I was worried about was getting that thing out of her hands and in my own. The last thing anyone on the Undoubtedly needed was a pissed off Sith Lady on our tale. Big smile, grin almost, as I made my way over. I even managed to grab two cups of tea from a table, while nobody was looking.

"Ohey," Sitting down next to her unceremoniously. "Having a pleasant day?" Putting down the cup of tea in front of her too.

Grin switched to pleasant smile.

Always smile, you can't go wrong with that.

 

[Faegard]

I stared down at the small package in my hands.

What could it be? What would need to be smuggled - presumably out of the Empire - with such precautions taken? It was too small to be a holocron, or the wong shape, unless it somehow folded in on itself. I raised and lowered my hand a few times, testing the weight. Hmm... it could have been some sort of artefact, maybe? A piece of--

A sudden yelp of surprise escaped my lips as my quiet study was interrupted. Stuffing my hands into my lap and covering the package, I glanced up to see a devilishly handsome rogue of a man take a seat next to me, announcing himself with a casual greeting and placing before me a beverage. My head was spinning, my heart racing. Within two minutes I'd had more interactions than I usually had in a day.

Swallowing back the loss of composure, I offered him an awkward smile,

"Oh... uh... hi," I stammered, "d-do... I know you?"

Oh gods, what had I stumbled into? He'd come over as soon as this package had landed in my lap. Was he some sort of assassin? What if he was trying to stop this thing, whatever it is, from getting out of the empire? Or kill the receiver, or both?

It was in that moment that I decided, whatever comes, that I would not let that happen. The Sith had chased me from my home, from my past, my lineage. If this could - in some small way - stick it to them, then I would do everything in my power to see that happen. Throwing a glance at the drink, I decided not to touch it. Probably poinsoned, of course.

Finding a casual smile of my own, I glanced back at the handsome newcomer,

"What can I do for you?"

Wynter Rackham​