Head in the Clouds

[Kale]

Alexei Simonov stirred uncomfortably on the hard bench and its thin cushions. His bearded face was pressed against a bulkhead, and there was a flashing light on the other side of his eyelids. Grumbling, he shook himself awake and tried to straighten out his aching back.

He blinked in surprise at the sight of clouds out the viewport and the shafts of sunlight passing through them like a strobe. "What!" he croaked. "We're not to Subterrel already?"

The youth who shared the cabin with him - a small, scrawny teenager with messy, mouse-brown hair, was sitting lengthwise on the opposite bench, his knees tucked in front of him, leaning on his tattered synthfiber backpack, staring out the viewport at the passing towers of cumulus and cirrus and the orange-pink curtain of sky beyond. "No," he said. "You musta slept through the announcement. They diverted us to Bespin. Somethin' wrong with the hyperdrive."

"What? Diverted?" The old man reached with an arthritic hand to steady himself on the handgrip by the bench and leaned for a better look out the window. "No, no, they can't..." He squinted into the sunlit clouds, and the light burned his red-rimmed eyes. "We were headed for Subterrel! Where did you say we are? Bestine?"

"Bespin," the boy repeated patiently.

"No," Alexei said. "My ticket... my ticket's right here..." He pulled the flimsy out of his coat pocket, as if showing it to his cabin-mate would make the brown skies of Subterrel appear in the viewport. "I'm on my way to Mantle City. My nephew, Dmitri, offered me a job in his mining company."

"So I've heard," the youth replied.

"No jobs left on Moorja," Alexei pottered on. "The Imperials have taken everything over. I grew Fenti beans there, you know. The Empire took the land, gave me a pittance. You don't suppose there'll be a refund?"

The teenaged boy shrugged and laid a hand over his heart - no, wait, Alexei squinted and saw there was something beneath his shirt hanging from his neck on a thin, leather cord. A keepsake, perhaps.

"This ticket took all I had," the old man said despondently. "Bespin. What's on Bespin?"

The youth took a deep breath. "Floating cities... gas miners, tibanna refineries, trading ports, hovering spas, that sort of thing."

"Gas mining," Alexei mumbled, and he coughed painfully. "Maybe I can learn that. I know nothing but farming. I should have been smart like you, traveled when I was young, seen the galaxy. I suppose this must have thrown a spanner into your plans as well."

The boy's hand closed over whatever it was on his leather necklace. "Yeah, it did," he replied sullenly.

Alexei straightened up - as much as he was able - and a frown crossed his weathered face. "Why were you headed to Subterrel?"

The boy pursed his lips. "I was lookin' for something," he said.

The old man waited for him to elaborate, but he never did. Docking pylons passed by the viewport; the transport was pulling into a berth somewhere.

Alexei watched as a mooring cable snaked into view. "Still have a few credits left," the old man said with a sigh. "Hope it's enough for a room for the night. Does it get cold here?"

Suddenly the boy looked uncomfortable, as if he'd just remembered something. "I dunno," he said. "Hey, uh... while you were sleeping, I think you mighta dropped your wallet."

"Hmmm?" Alexei looked down and reached into his hip pocket, perplexed. "No, I don't think..."

"Oh, look, here it is," the boy said, producing a nerfhide billfold from - well, Alexei hadn't seen where he'd gotten it. "You might wanna put it in your coat pocket," he added. "That way it won't fall out so easy."

The old man took the wallet gingerly and opened it to see his identicard staring rheumily back at him. "How did that..."

The transport drifted to a halt against a Cloud City docking port, and the boy hopped up from his seat and slung his backpack onto his shoulder. "Well, see ya, gramps, hope it works out for you. And, uh... may the Force be with you." The youth slid open the door of the cabin and whisked out into the main corridor, leaving the old man alone.

---

A half hour later, Kale was ambling down the concourse from the docking port into Cloud City proper, starting with an open-air market arranged to tempt disembarking businessmen and tourists with food and trinkets they could buy further down in the city for half the price. Bespin had never been part of his plans, and thanks to his sudden conscience pangs, he didn't have a credit to his name - even his ticket had been stolen, and he didn't want to risk pursuing a refund or a transfer to continue his journey to the mining world of Subterrel.

So that meant finding money, first for some food, then for some shelter, then eventually for another ticket, or a forgery, whichever came cheaper. Fortunately, Kale had always been very good at finding money.

With a firm grip on his backpack's shoulder strap, Kale plunged into the slow-moving crowd on the streets of Cloud City, keeping his eyes open for another easy mark.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Level 122 - Commerce Sector

Hundreds of beings made their way down the long narrowed streets, haggling for freshly produced, or stolen, goods passed up from the factories located 100 levels below. Organized crime lords were trying to cut out a sizable profit while being all the same lazy since they didn't have to rely on exporting or importing anything. They just had to rely on their people on the inside to 'accidentally' loose some products: power converters, repulsors stabilizers, HUD's, shield oscillators ... anything that could fall off the speeder were fair game.

There were also those trying to make an honest living by setting up shop in small tin can sized storefronts, renting the space for at least twice what it was worth, selling the same supplies for little profit; their dreams hanging on the edge of failure everyday ...

It was amongst these honest peddlers that a demure and timid figure weaved her way through a thick mass of Rodians towards her destination, a mom and pop mechanic shop that specialized in small transport vehicles and fighter parts off the record. Rihard and his wife had an honest knack of knowing which ear could be whispered into and without drawing attention to themselves. Something that their frequent costumer appreciated.

Lianna Mal Pannis, i.e. Navaria Tarkin, Jedi Master and identical twin sister to the newly crowned Empress of the Empire required subtlety, doubly damned in the eyes of the Galactic Regime. They were searching for her, quietly, not wishing to cause a stir with Miranda's new rise to power. Outside of her trusted circle, Navaria had to presume that everyone would turn her in for promises of wealth.

The galaxy felt so small, so confining since Doldur and Atzerri. She couldn't step outside her quarters without a hooded cloak and scarf to cover her face because of the contagious Bonaden Cough she acquired on her trip here. It was a good story as any, for those that asked. Navaria was quite adept at coughing on cue for effect. She was adept at fooling everyone. Including her fellow Jedi, who on the surface, were seemingly accepting of the Jedi Master wishes to be addressed be her real name.

They did not realize how alone she felt. Navaria easily accepted the consequences of her actions in saving her sister's life. How her identity would be veiled and the Empire would be tracking her down for the rest of her life ...

She would meditate often, and alone, searching the Force for guidance and ways to alleviate distracted thoughts. Her mind would be quieted, eventually, but the peace she felt wasn't as cleansing without Daria's presence. The Knight was avoiding her, again. Atzerri complicated their relationship further and for all the power that the Force bestowed upon her, Navaria had never been so empowered, or inspired, when Daria was at her side.

Her thoughts returned to the present, focused on arriving to her appointment inconspicuously. She allowed her mind to reach out through the Force and felt no immediately threats of danger or distinct thoughts towards her. It was just like any other day here, but the Master knew better. The Force was always in motion and one never knew when to expect the mundane to shift suddenly ...

[Kale]

A Togruta female paused at the stall of a Bothan selling Rare! and Antique! beaded jewelry that was actually manufactured just a few levels down. But by the time she'd found the perfect necklace to set off her magnificent headtail markings, her pouch of credit chits was nowhere to be found. Flustered, she tried to placate the Bothan shopkeeper while she rooted through her substantial purse.

A few blocks away, Kale dropped Miss Timaa Shirii's identicard and two bank-controlled buying chits to the pavement - he didn't like to hold onto anything that could be traced. About seventy-five credits in small denominations sat comfortably in the inner pocket of his jacket, enough for a few days, depending on what lodging he found. But Kale wanted a little more for insurance, and these were good hunting grounds, far enough from the commercial docks that there was little security presence, close enough that there were plenty of unwary tourists and self-absorbed business travelers to provide tempting targets to someone of Kale's talents.

The human teen joined the flow of sentient foot traffic without so much as a ripple. He excelled at disappearing into crowds, even moving quickly through them without being seen. Most beings simply didn't notice him when he didn't want him to - they might have a brief impression of a human boy: well, was he tall, short? Short to medium, perhaps, wearing gray, or brown, either a jacket or a robe or something else altogether, and his hair was light, or dark, or reddish - it may have just been a trick of the light, but could you pick him out of a line-up, oh, I don't really think I could say.

Ever since he'd met up with Lorca Dawnstone on Coruscant, he'd begun to suspect it was somehow a byproduct of his connection with the Force. He'd even learned to amplify it and disappear entirely, in plain view. Or, at least, he thought. He'd never had a chance to try it in front of a mirror before.

As he scanned the bazaar, his eyes kept returning to a tall, female figure walking alone with a purpose in her step. She wore a robe and had her face covered - could be a religious acolyte, could be someone who didn't want her face seen, and neither was attractive prospect for a thief. People who hid their faces were usually more trouble than they were worth. But for some reason Kale found himself drawn to this one. And he hadn't stowed all the way from the Core to the Outer Rim by ignoring his instincts.

He followed the woman as covertly as he could manage, sometimes on the same side of the street, sometimes on the opposite side. He never looked at her, but she was always in his peripherals. And block by block he drew closer to her.

[Navaria Tarkin]

She couldn't help but feel that someone was following her. Not out of malicious or wicked intent, but the Force was unmistakably at work. But for what reason? None of the usual auras were in the area and there weren't any presences of the past that would cause her to be wary or welcoming.

Something was amiss. Cautious and on her guard, Navaria remained mindful of her surroundings and waited patiently for her pursuer to reveal themselves.

[Kale]

A clump of Sullustan and Bothan tourists with busy holo-imagers had decided to cross a street to go see a pottery vendor; their path took them straight toward the hooded figure. Kale surreptitiously attached himself to the group, head down, hands in pockets.

Several of the group carelessly bumped Navaria as they passed, and in the middle of the crowd, a narrow, nimble hand slipped into her pocket and pulled out a small pouch of loose credits.

[Navaria Tarkin]

The Sullustans muttered a humble apology for knocking into her, but Navaria was too transfixed on a slim hand finding its way into her pockets. With impeccable speed, the Jedi grabbed his arm with a firm grip and tugged him forward to lock eyes.

Chocolate eyes narrowed at thief and was mildly surprised at it was a mousy brown haired disheveled teenager staring back at her in surprise. But then suspicious eyes relaxed in understanding as realization overtook the Jedi Master. This boy was the one she had felt. The Force was strong with him.

[Kale]

The frell!

Kale tried to wrench his arm free of her grip, but she was stronger than she looked. A felt pouch dropped to the sidewalk and spilled a handful of coins into the street.

The tourists gasped and skittered away from the scuffle. Then, as soon as they were at a safe distance, they started taking holo-images.

Kale had a crazy urge to reach up and rip the scarf off the woman's face, as if exposing her to sunlight would paralyze her or some silly thing like that. Instead, he grabbed the edge of her hood and pulled it down over her eyes, hoping to blind her and knock her off-balance, distract her enough so he could break her grip and get free...

[Navaria Tarkin]

The clicking of holo-cameras didn't make her flinch. These sorts of situations happened all too often in this part of Cloud City and the local authorities would probably pay it no mind, and her identity was well hidden underneath all the clothing. She only feared for the boy's safety.

She swung him around so her back was facing the tourists to lessen the amount of pictures snapped. "Wait listen ..."

Her sentence was cut off by the hood pulled over her eyes. His efforts would have worked on an ordinary woman, but Navaria did not need her eyes to see. She could still see the boy through the Force, a bundle of panicked emanating from him. Even the shove shouldn't have caused too much of an issue, but Navaria bumped into a Rodian that was trying to scoop up the fallen coins. It stirred her enough that her thief was able to break free and then bolt.

"Damn!" She snatched her pouch, which was lighter in coin, and made way to chase.

[Kale]

Kale flew through the streets, nimbly dodging his way past pedestrians. Didn't matter that he had no idea where he was going. One city was very much like another; you learned to look for the signs that said, cheap lodging, easy food, gang territory, danger here. All he needed now was a hiding place, but first he needed to shake his masked pursuer.

Krasst, he was getting sloppy! He'd thought she looked like trouble from the start, so why had he gone ahead and picked her anyway?

He'd have to work it out on his own time later. For now, he needed to get out of sight, but that was hard to do on a crowded street - running for your life had a way of making you conspicuous. And it was only a matter of time before some well-meaning citizen called the cops or, worse, the Imperials.

Kale juked between the legs of a skittering B'omarr Monk and vaulted over a passing food cart bearing some sort of hot pasties that smelled like fish. He grabbed onto a light pole and swung his way into a side alley - there was a chain-link fence about halfway down, and he hauled himself over and found himself in some sort of loading dock at the back of a department store.

The teen looked around frantically for any viable exit, and he found it underneath his feet. Cloud City was, after all, just a big repulsorlift platform; there were maintenance crawlways throughout the whole complex to reach key systems, and he was standing over an access hatch set into the pavement. He waved a hand over the padlock binding the hatch shut and convinced the mechanism he'd just turned the right key. Then he flipped open the hatch and slipped inside just as he heard footsteps echoing down the alley.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Her feet danced to a halt, eyes tapering to the new surroundings. Senses heightened by the Force, they fanned the area in search for any minuscule detail to alert the Jedi to the boys whereabouts.

A gentle hiss of a compression valve diverted her eyes to a hatch below. She half smiled when his presence was confirmed through the Force about 3 meters ahead of her. Her smile grew full at his cleverness and fell into a brisk walk, following the young boy through more trepidous streets. Danger had turned far more insidious in this sector then a mere thieving hand looking for coin.

The system that the boy had found himself inside followed the alleyway for the most part, noting similar hatches along the way near electrical or computer terminals. Certainly the well placed openings were to help the Ugnaughts traverse the more seedy areas of the station in some safety.

[Kale]

It was cramped in the crawlspaces between levels. They had been designed with shorter beings in mind, and Kale had to keep his head down to avoid banging it on durasteel girders and support struts; he moved as fast as he was able while dodging protruding pipes and power conduits.

He'd gone about the length of a block, far enough to see the light of another access hatch up ahead. He jumped onto the ladder and was about to push his way out when he felt the cold prickling at the back of his neck that always meant danger.

Kale froze and took a moment to calm his racing heart. Then he closed his eyes and expanded his feelings the way Lorca had shown him, trying to sense what he couldn't see--

Oh, crap, she'd followed him!

Kale recoiled from the hatch as if a pair of poisonous cohouns had just slithered down from it, and he tucked himself back into a hollow between a large fuse box and a nest of cooling conduits. If he couldn't outrun her, maybe he could just disappear from under her nose.

The boy took a few deep breaths and focused on shrinking into the wall of the tunnel, matching his biorhythms to the thrum of the surrounding machinery, joining his essence to the fabric of the Force all around him. To a casual observer, he'd just become a surface feature of the tunnel, there, but completely unremarkable. To a Force-adept, he'd simply become a void, indistinguishable from the ambient hum of the Force.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria stopped dead in her tracks with a look of mild surprise creasing her features.

"Interesting," she muttered to herself, fascinated by this turn of events. The young boy either had been trained at one point or was unconsciously molding the Force to suit his needs. As a street urchin, the Force would do him a great survive in stealth, speed and accentuating survival instincts. But to blink out of existence and allow his presence to fade into the natural ebb of the Force was a rare talent.

Even with her considerable power, Navaria wouldn't be able to find him. There was a small chance that the Jedi Master could pick a stray thought from the boy, but he would be concentrating on keeping himself hidden. Now wasn't the time for action, but inaction and patience. The boy couldn't hide forever. Something would draw him out eventually.

Gathering up her cloak, the Jedi made herself as comfortable as she could against the side of a store front, looking the part of a beggar, or homeless being. Their kind was part of the natural scenery here amidst vagabonds and gang members. There she sat, quiet and still. Her chest barely visible with each breath, waiting passively for the moment that the Force would reveal her sneaky little thief.

[Kale]

Kale waited. He wasn't sure how long. It wasn't easy to think about things like time when you were focusing on merging with the cosmic spiritual energies of the universe.

Not that he ever thought of it like that. To him, it was just a place to hide, like a small fish in a coral reef. The tides only mattered if they were bringing in sharks.

Twenty minutes passed. Thirty. Kale would have thought he'd be getting antsy by now, but, strangely enough, he was more at peace than he'd been since...

Well, since he left Lorca, anyway.

Cautiously, he extended his senses again. He couldn't detect any danger above.

With a deep breath, Kale pulled himself out of his hiding place, climbed up the ladder, and popped the hatch to take a look around.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Her head shifted with the boy's returned presence, but still her eyes remained fixated across the street to some Twi'lek thug dealing spice. She didn't want to give her position away by some non-threatening movement just to see if he had finally revealed himself physically.

The click of the latch coming undo, the hiss of a pressure valve came next followed by the barely audible squeaky hinges of the hatch opening from behind her in the alley. Nothing stirred but the vibrant life force of a teenager hoping that his mystery pursuer was gone.

Not wanting to spook the boy again, Navaria remained still, hovering over her knee like many of the downtrodden along the strip. She was hoping to appeal to his curiosity before his survival instincts kicked in. Waiting for a petty thief for close to 45 standard minutes was rather comical when only a few credits had been lost. And when his mind was quiet, when the adrenaline from the chase subsided, perhaps reason would allow him to question why she has been able to track him as easily as she did.

[Kale]

Kale lifted the hatch just enough to raise his eyes above the pavement, and he slowly scanned the perimeter. A slith deal on one street corner - nothing that concerned him - a couple vagrants over by the dumpsters. He turned his head to the other side and stared right into a familiar pair of sharp, brown eyes.

He yelped and darted back down into the tunnel, and the hatch slammed shut with a p-chunk.

The Twi'lek dealer looked up irritably and decided to move his operation somewhere else.

Moments later, the hatch slowly rose again. Kale peered distrustfully at Navaria from underneath the trapdoor. When she didn't charge at him, pull out a weapon, or call for backup, he lifted the hatch the rest of the way and hauled himself out.

Carefully, Kale closed the hatch behind him, had a self-conscious look around, and took a few cautious steps toward the tranquil Jedi. "You waitin' for me to say I'm sorry?" he asked.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria remained sitting. It was a non-threatening position where Kale could feel that he was in charge of the conversation, being able to stand over the Jedi. And if need be, run off if he felt threatened.

She chuckled mildly at his question. "No, young one. That would be hypocritical of me."

Even the Jedi had to succumb to ordinary thievery when she was younger. After Master Drin had been captured by Vader, Navaria had to lead the life of a vagabond, jumping system to system by means that always didn't require a ticket. When money was scarce, even she had to palm a few credits now and then. Not something she was proud of, but it had only been done as a last resort.

"I just wanted to talk," she said in earnest. "We're alike you and I."

[Kale]

Kale still wasn't at ease. No one. No one ever 'just wanted to talk.'

He closed the gap by a few more steps. "Are we?"

[Navaria Tarkin]

"Yes, we are." She slowly rose a hand to her face and in a gesture of good faith, lowered the scarf covering her mouth. Navaria was much younger in face then voice. However, a cautious eye kept surveying the area in case she needed to cover up once more.

"You have an ability that few possess. Hiding as you do ..." she smiled warmly. "Even I cannot do that."

[Kale]

Okay, so she'd gotten his attention. Though dropping the scarf would've done that - she was beautiful! She might've been a model or an actress or something, because Kale was certain he'd seen that face before.

But someone who knew he was a Force user was either a friend or a very dangerous enemy. He wasn't ready to stick his neck out one way or the other yet.

"I've had some practice," he said. He reached up and closed his hand around something underneath his shirt, just over his heart - it seemed to calm his nerves.

"So you're a user, too," he said. It wasn't a question, and he wasn't talking about anything you could buy on back alleys like this one.

[Navaria Tarkin]

"Yes," she admitted with a small nod and then looked around for anyone finding this conversation of interest. When Navaria felt confident no overt eyes were glancing their way, she briefly delved into the Force and felt no danger. "Since the day I was born I've been trained ..."

It wasn't safe to go into too many details out here in the open. The boy realized that too from years of experience.

She took note of his odd gesture. "My name's Navaria."

[Kale]

Kale was nervous, no way around it. Even though this woman hadn't done anything threatening - couldn't really blame her for grabbing him when he tried to rip her off. But throwing in with another Forcer, especially after what had happened with Lorca...

But he felt it again, the same gravity that had pulled him toward her when he was looking for marks. Maybe he'd been reading his instincts wrong. And when he squeezed the crystal underneath his shirt, he heard that now-familiar voice reassuring him in his head: You can trust her.

"I'm Kale," he replied. Giving his name didn't mean anything - he was nobody, after all. He left it at that, studying her with his flat, gray eyes, waiting for her to take the next move.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Little by little, Kale was opening up. She could feel him searching the Force, using his instincts to help guide his decisions. Navaria was more convinced then ever that the boy had been trained by another Jedi, or Force Adept of some kind, since it was the Light Side that shined so brightly around him.

"It was no accident that our paths crossed. We both can feel a higher power at work here. And there are others like us, here, on the station." Her smile was sympathetic. She knew how tiring it was living on the run, on your own, and only trusting yourself to get through each day. "You needn't be alone any longer if you choose."

[Kale]

For the first time since they'd met, Kale smiled - well, smirked, anyway. You had to take what you could get.

"Actually, it was by accident," he said. "My transport had reactor trouble and got diverted here."

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria chuckled. "Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on a certain point of view, but I don't believe coincidences."

Her eyes were still upon Kale but they had grown distant in remembrance. Of what, the boy could not begin to guess. "Not anymore."

[Kale]

She seemed to have drifted off into a memory, but Kale didn't make a habit of prying into people's histories unsolicited.

But, one way or another, the ice had been broken, and, to his own surprise, he stepped over and sat beside her on the curb.

"You said there are others," he repeated. "You mean... like in a colony? Actually... practicin'?"

[Navaria Tarkin]

"Well, not exactly. There ..." She trailed off as eyes snapped to a Dug shambling towards the pair with hind legs bouncing in the air. He would end up passing in front of them. The Jedi covered her face quickly and waited for the alien to be on his way, but he had taken an interest in them by way of a crooked smile.

"Hello!" He straightened the goggles over his eyes with a foot and continued to approach. "You be lookin' like you need some work, huh?"

He timidly looked back and forth down the road to make sure that Twi'lek was no where in sight. Felga was a Trandoshan runner for Black Nebula and this little Dug's boss. They were trying to move in the local crime lords territory here slowly but surely. Just Malvar'ha and his group of Twi'leks were being difficult in negotiations.

The Dug pulled out two small packets of spice with his toes and dangled them carefully before the pair. "Just collect the money and report to me every week. Easy credits. Get clean clothes. Food!"

"Not interested," said Navaria sternly. This was too much unwanted attention.

The Dug clicked his tongue, unhappy at the answer and went to turn towards Kale. But before he couldn't even ask his question, the Jedi waved two fingers before the alien. "We are not interested, thank you. Please leave us be."

His insidious grin turned strangely pleasant and he bowed his head appreciative of their time. "As you wish," he said humbly and then continued on his way.

[Kale]

Kale didn't much like being spoken for, but he was just as glad to see the dug go - he'd always drawn the line at drugs. They were too expensive to buy, too costly to sell, and they were a surefire way to make desperate enemies.

But he'd also noticed the way Navaria had covered up her face at the alien's approach. It wasn't just shyness; she didn't want to be recognized. Which only made Kale rack his brains even harder to figure out where the frell he'd seen her before.

"I think we'd better get off this street," he said, and then he hesitated, because he was about to override years of deep-seated streeter suspicion. "You know anywhere we could go that's more out-of-the-way?"

[Navaria Tarkin]

She couldn't agree more with Kale. One incident with a random stranger had turned harmless, but who's to say if the next one would be as easily adverted?

"Perhaps we can return to the Commerce Sector and grab something to eat? There's plenty of small diners where we can be left in relative peace." Navaria was certainly hungry and Kale looked he was a few weeks past a warm meal.

[Kale]

She'd hit the right note. A diner would be public enough Kale knew she couldn't try anything, private enough they could still carry on a conversation as long as they avoided a few choice words. And Kale couldn't have hidden the telltale rumble from his stomach if he'd tried.

Fifteen minutes later, they were seated in a corner booth of the Sunset Cafe, and Kale was attacking a steaming bowl of runyip stew with a frosted glass of fizzade on hand and a bacon cheese banthaburger on the way. He could put it away when someone else was paying.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Underneath the scarf, Navaria smiled at the boy's healthy appetite. She was more grateful for his apparent ease around her as well. They might have started off on the wrong foot, but through their shared connection with the Light, he realized that she was trustworthy ... However, he was being mindful and cautious. Good traits to have for a potential Jedi. To trust blindly is foolish.

To retain some anonymity, Navaria had cupped the scarf under her chin and faced towards the wall, away from the window and the refreshers. It was the best possible angle with the least visibility.

She poked at a piece of mujo fruit and nibbled, waiting for Kale to find a time to breathe and asks questions first. Right now she feared he'd might choke with how fast he inhaled his food.

[Kale]

Kale's spoon found the bottom of the bowl and scraped up every last molecule. Then he took a deep drink of fizzade, relishing the sweet sharpness of the carbonation.

Navaria was watching him, obviously wanting him to take initiative. He ran a sleeve over his mouth and swallowed.

"Right," he said. "So... this group of yours. Wanderers, like me? Or is it somethin' more formal than that?"

[Navaria Tarkin]

"Wanderers trying to become more," she answered. "It is difficult considering the current political climate, but what few of us there are, we are trying."

[Kale]

Kale stiffened visibly at some uncomfortable memories of Ashe Sieris and Draken Chakara.

"Trying... what?" he asked.

[Navaria Tarkin]

She noticed Kale's reaction, but did not pry. The Jedi could feel his disfavor. "To find comfort and safety in numbers, while finding our purpose once again."

Navaria gave a light smile and motioned with her hand as she thought about how to articulate the words without suspicion. "Through private reflection and discussion amongst ourselves."

[Kale]

Kale wasn't sure he got it. She was dancing around the exact truth - and who could blame her - but it almost sounded like navel-gazing.

He leaned over the table so he could speak really quiet.

"Do you guys fix lightsabers?"

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria's face grew hard. "Be mindful of what you speak openly."

Yes, she danced around the use of the word Force, as Kale should with lightsaber. Either words could turn a far too curious ear their direction. No where was safe.

"But yes," her voice returned gentle. "We do."

[Kale]

That smirk returned - Navaria might have thought he was being careless, but Kale had found out what he needed to know. Lightsabers meant they were serious and not just some Force cult meditating on how many mynocks could dance on the head of a pin.

Of course, he'd sort of tipped his own hand. But he'd wait until later - until he was really, really sure - before he showed her what he had in his backpack.

The food came then. Kale's plate was heavy with fries and a beautiful stack of bantha, bacon, and bun. Navaria was presented with a colorful arrangement of fruit and cheese.

Kale took the crown off his burger and started arranging the lettuce and tomato. "So where are you from?" he asked conversationally. He still wanted to figure out where he'd seen her face.

[Navaria Tarkin]

That was one hell of a loaded question. Navaria had no place to call home since the Jedi left Vortex. If she dove to deeply into her past, certain details might emerge that the Master Jedi wasn't quite ready to share with her young companion. At least not here.

"Since I was a baby, I've been bounced around from one end of the Outer Rim to the next. My teacher and I couldn't afford to stay in one place for too long," she explained and began to wonder if it were Kale's curiosity or something more that had caused him to ask this particular question.

[Kale]

Kale took the answer in stride. It didn't mean anything to him, but he wasn't sure he'd really expected it to.

"There are still... teachers?" he said, careful to use Navaria's terms. "I thought they were pretty much all out of business. How many of y-- of us are there?"

[Navaria Tarkin]

"Few," she said with a heavy heart. "Too few. In my group there are seven, but I'm sure there are more. We just haven't found them yet."

[Kale]

Her weariness was palpable. And suddenly Kale thought of Lorca.

"I found another one," he said suddenly - it surprised even himself. Usually he wasn't one to spout off the first thing that came to mind, all appearances to the contrary.

"It was a while back," Kale added more reservedly. "We were traveling together, but we ran into trouble and got separated."

Trouble with green eyes and a purple lightsaber.

[Navaria Tarkin]

"I'm sorry," she replied with much empathy. Navaria understood how difficult it was to be separated by those you placed your trust in. "Where did you find one another?"

[Kale]

Kale hesitated. He had to remind himself he'd decided to trust her for the time-being.

"Coruscant," he replied. "That's where I grew up, actually. We helped each other out... we were the only ones we knew of, y'know... and we were on our way to Dantooine when we ran into a... someone we couldn't take."

He fidgeted with his fizzade and drowned the silence in another long sip.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria nodded in understanding, knowing that Kale referred to a Dark Sider of some kind. She had come face to face with one on her own, but the outcome had been more positive then her young companion's here. "And you don't know if he survived or not?"

[Kale]

Kale shook his head and dropped his eyes to his plate. He started scratching at the peeling laminate on the tabletop.

"I just figured I needed to keep goin' on my own," he said. "It's what I'm used to. I've never been a fighter. Just a survivor."

A practiced observer would note there was more than just disappointment in Kale's voice - there was also guilt, and someone who stole for a living wasn't used to feeling guilty. But about that time, his survivor's stomach reminded him he had a whole bantha burger in front of him, and his appetite overruled his remorse. He took a ravenous bite and washed it down with an ample swig of cola.

[Navaria Tarkin]

"The galaxy has not been kind to us, Kale," she said sympathetically. "It shows little remorse in what has happened, but it has given us an opportunity to find one another over the last few years."

Navaria pour a teaspoon of sugar into her tea and stirred it gently. "Like now, and you should not regret the decisions you have made. There is nothing wrong with surviving until you find purpose in this life."

[Kale]

Kale knew she was being kind. Just the same, he rankled at the idea of her trying to absolve him, not even knowing what he'd done.

"Well," he said, not yet meeting her eyes, "I was kinda already on my way somewhere. My transport was headed for Subterrel. I was..."

Immediately, he wished he'd stopped two sentences ago. It had been hard enough to explain to Lorca; he couldn't very well tell a perfect stranger about it, even if she did buy him lunch.

"...lookin' for something."

[Navaria Tarkin]

"The past?" questioned the Jedi carefully. Kale's mind was not focused on the present fully and all to often, he would drift in and out of old memories. Which was not completely unexpected due to the nature of their conversation, but the past struck a certain cord in the Force when he mentioned his searching.

[Kale]

That made Kale look up, and he felt his ears burn bright red. What did she know?

A second later, his suspicion caught up with his imagination. For frell's sake, it was such a vague answer it could've meant anything! Why'd he have to go and tip his hand like that?

"Something like that," he mumbled. He wanted to leave it there. Knew he should leave it there. He didn't know this woman - even if she did seem familiar - for all he knew, she was just as bad as the Forcer they'd run into on the Orwell... but something about her, and something about the cool assurance of the crystal against his chest kindled a glimmer of hope inside him. It was just enough to make him take a deep breath and make a stab in the dark.

"Do you know anything about dreams?"

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria frowned at Kale's reaction. Instead of gaining his trust, she was putting him on defense, which was not her intent. The Jedi just wanted to boy to understand that she could relate to him on some level. Perhaps less reflection and more attentive ears were needed.

"What sorts of dreams?" She tilted her head curiously. "Dreams can take many forms as innocent images of the sleep, or hold more meaning for introspection. In some cases, it gives us a glimpse of the past or future."

[Kale]

That was more or less what Lorca had told him - so far so good. Kale braced himself for the next question, and if she showed a hint of patronizing him, he was out the door, free lunch or no.

"Have you ever heard of anyone... dreaming about someone else's past?"

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria pursed her lips, eyes widened in contemplation. "Personally?"

She shook her head, "No. But I was taught that if someone had a deep ... spiritual connection with another, it was quite possible for that person to do what you're asking. Especially if something unforeseen had happened to them."

[Kale]

That was it - she had Kale's attention now. But he couldn't decide all at once. He retreated to his bantha burger to chew it over. By the time he swallowed, he'd made his decision.

"When we're finished here," he said, "I've got something to show you. So, who do you like in playoffs - the Shad Furies or the Quent Assassins?"

Kale hadn't looked; he'd just known the waitress was coming to top off their drinks. He didn't venture any further on the subject of dreams. That would wait until they could speak more freely.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Sensing a tiny shift of trust form in Kale, Navaria smiled and gave a purposeful thought to his question. "Well, the Assassins have Ap Kormar for their center. It would be an upset if his team were to loose in the playoffs ..."

* * *

After a rousing hour of debate about sports statistics over dessert, Navaria led the young man to her personal quarters located in the general housing facilities for most of the factory workers. It was here that the Jedi could blend into common faces, unlike the upscale housing found over one hundred levels above. The pair spoke in relative silence, not wishing unwanted attention directed their way again, but most of the beings here shambled along, oblivious to who walked among them. Their minds were filled with work orders and families - they didn't have time to think of the new threat of Jedi their newly crowned Empress professed.

"Not much further now," she said as they stepped off the lift onto level 165, brown eyes offering reassurance as her face was covered once more. "It's a short walk into sector 4."

This level had two story housing with steel ramps and stairways connecting either floor, but it was the same white polished paneling devoid of any real emotion that could be found on some of the administration levels. the designers thought of practicality and how many bodies could they cram into each section since the station required thousands of workers.

[Kale]

Kale's eyes were always moving - not to the roofs of buildings and the arches and hanging gardens and cunningly designed vistas of the cloudscape beyond the city, but to alleys, fire escapes, maintenance access points, ventilation ducts, sewage lines, any path that wasn't a path. If he was going to be staying in Cloud City for any length of time, he wanted to know all the shortcuts its residents didn't, just in case he had to run again.

When they reached the housing level, Kale couldn't help but think of a little flat in the slums of the Santiago District on Coruscant. Of course, these were cleaner, brighter, with higher-quality graffiti. But the principle was the same - if it had four walls and a roof, you could call it a home and lease it to someone. Sometimes the complexes were owned by individual landlords who really did try to keep them in good shape. Most of the time they were just entries on the ledger sheets of some company housed as far away from the projects as possible.

Kale followed Navaria up a staircase and waited patiently as she fished out a keycard to open her apartment.

[Navaria Tarkin]

She swipe the keycard and then there was an audible click. The door opened enough to see, well nothing really. The lights weren't on. The Jedi Master pushed it the rest of the way opened and hit the light panel on the side.

There wasn't extraordinary about the room because nothing seen was tied to Navaria. The apartment was pre-furnished a couch, a couple of tables, bookcase, and holovid that doubled as a computer. The walls were bare and the fluorescent bulbs were on a low setting since she hadn't thought it a waste to spend money on shades. Towards the back, there was entrance way into the kitchenette and even further back, two doorways that led to the bedroom and fresher.

It was better then sleeping on the ground, so its purpose was served.

"Anything I can get you?" she asked, closing the door behind Kale as he entered and removed the hood and scarf. The Jedi felt like herself again, being free from the subterfuge required to walk freely amongst the beings of Cloud City. Her hair was a bit scraggly from the confinement. She combed it out with long fingers and threw the extra clothing on top of the bookcase.

[Taya Robbins]

Delete plz

[Kale]

The place barely looked lived-in at all. Which meant it was temporary, or she'd just gotten in, or she spent a lot of time on business. Kale would figure that out later.

He drifted into the room, not far enough to seem presumptuous, and found a seat on the couch, which crinkled stiffly like a couch in a hotel lobby. She didn't entertain often, either. He was about to respond to her question, but he was mesmerized for a moment by the sight of her fingers trailing through her hair.

"Um... no, I'm good, thanks."

[Navaria Tarkin]

With the bulky brown robe gone, Navaria wore a plain tan tunic and pants that matched, a white shirt and worn boots. He also saw a lightsaber clipped to her weapons belt.

"Want me to take your jacket?" she offered. "It can get stuffy in here."

She sighed and sat down, looking at the vents slightly perturbed. "For me it's no bother, but it might be for you."

[Kale]

He shook his head. "No, s'fine." His jacket was where he kept his credits, tucked in a hidden interior pocket he'd sewn himself. He just shrugged it off his shoulders behind him and swung his backpack down to the floor between his feet. His knees bounced with nervous energy.

"So... you're a Jedi." It was good to finally get the word out in the open, finally have something concrete to hold onto. "Can you prove it?"

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria was not surprised at the boldness of his statement. Kale had been wanting to speak freely for some time and now that privacy was secured, he wasted little of it in getting to the meatier questions.

"You have been trained to an extent. You can find the answer you seek yourself." She widened the distance between her arms, palms facing upwards in acceptance. "I hold no secrets. My walls are down."

[Kale]

At first, Kale had no idea what she was talking about - he was thinking like a thief, not a Jedi - but then he remembered what Lorca had taught him about seeing with the Force and not with his eyes. To some extent, Kale did it all the time, but all he got was instincts, gut feelings. Anything more substantial took some effort.

So he took a breath, closed his eyes, and just for support, fingered the shape of whatever-it-was hanging from his neck by a cord underneath his shirt. His mind's eye quickly found the leylines of the force flowing through the room, the strands of energy connecting every living being in the city, at least as far his meager perception extended. Usually it was a chaotic mess, the lines of influence tangling and breaking and binding again, unbalanced energy reflecting unbalanced lives, but here it was all steady orbits, gentle tides, a tranquil ocean. And seated at the center of it all was a tall, luminous figure, glowing just the way Lorca had been, but even brighter.

His eyes snapped open again, and his breath caught. There was Navaria, sitting just as she was a moment ago, unassuming and open. Somehow she looked smaller in person. He was no expert, but he could tell she was way beyond his own abilities - he'd been lucky to run away from her as far as he did.

"Okay," he said, and he felt foolish, because he didn't know what else should be said. "Um, I... I've had some training, but nothin' formal," he admitted, and then he began to pick up steam. "I learned a few things from my friend, the one I told you about, but most of what I know, I learned from my mom. She was a padawan. Y'know, before the Purge. She was at the Temple. Do you think there's any chance you and she mighta..."

[Navaria Tarkin]

delete >_>

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria felt a deep sense of regret and lowered her head, shaking it lightly. "No. Unfortunately my training was not at the Temple. The only other Jedi I knew growing up was my Master, Drin."

She paused to wet her lips, thinking about the last day she had saw the Trianii. How Darth Vader was able to locate them was inconsequential, but he had come for Master Kizael, oblivious to the fact that he had a Padawan in training. The Mal Pannis', who were secretly Rebel sympathizers, had smuggled Lianna off world during Vader's distraction. He had sacrificed his own life to ensure she could have escaped ...

"I'm sorry I cannot be more helpful."

[Kale]

Kale deflated slightly, and he nodded, though he hadn't honestly expected otherwise. He'd known it was a longshot; survivors of the Purge were few and far between.

"Well," he said, "she taught me, on Coruscant, secretly. She taught me how to hide myself. How to meditate. Even a little TK. But then the Imperials came for her. And all I had left of her was this."

He cupped his hand just in front of his chest, and the cord around his neck began to snake out from underneath his shirt, pulling with it the unmistakable gleam of an Adegan focusing crystal. It was pure white, and even in the low light it sparkled brilliantly, throwing miniature color spectra on the walls around them. The crystal floated gently down into Kale's open hand.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria leaned forward with renewed interest and smiled lightly at the young man. "I see now why you have been so secretive ..."

If she had something of her mother's, the Jedi would have been equally as protective as Kale had been. He was lucky to have such an item, and not because of what could be made out of it ...

"...And why you wanted to know if I could construct a lightsaber."

He could not hide his discontent. It was plainly written across his face while staring down at the crystal. So she offered some hope. "There might be one amongst us that has met your mother. Her name is Serena, and she was trained at the Temple."

[Kale]

Hope lit up Kale's eyes like a spark. He tried to contain himself, because he knew chances were still slim - there were a lot of Jedi at the Temple...

"Can... can I talk to her? I, uh... promise I won't try to take her wallet."

[Navaria Tarkin]

She laughed, shaking her head lightly with a chuckle. "She'd appreciate that and I'm certain she'll be happy to speak with you. But until then, perhaps we can discuss the dreams you've been having about your mother?"

Kale's suspicions, his mother's death, and the crystal that hung around his neck - there could be no other conclusion.

[Kale]

Kale seemed to freeze for a moment in shock. Then he realized he had given her just about all the pieces. It didn't take a Jedi master to put them all together.

"Yeah, right," he said, and his eyes searched the floorboards for a few moments as he worked up his nerve. "See, I've been havin' these dreams for about a year now. At first it was just a couple images, sorta jumbled together. They didn't make sense, but... y'know, that's how dreams are. But then there were the memories."

He leaned forward, elbows on knees, his fingers lacing nervously in front of him. "Some of them were my memories. Like, as a kid, growing up on Coruscant, livin' in the Chiba district, goin' to the park... But there was a lot I'd never seen before. There's a little girl with dark hair walkin' into a Temple... gotta be the Jedi Temple. And then she's older, and she's runnin' for her life on Corellia. Then she's fightin' someone, a man with yellow hair, and he's laughin'... And then she's falling, in this... dark, deep pit on a dead planet..."

He trailed off and looked nervously in Navaria's direction.

"Look, I know it sounds completely crazy. But these aren't my memories. They're my mom's."

[Navaria Tarkin]

"It's not crazy. You are far from crazy," countered Navaria with a soothing smile. "To extrapolate from what I said in the diner, you and your mother had a strong connection through the Force which would not be severed in her unfortunate death. Now she speaks to you through that bond, giving you glimpses of her past. I would even be bold enough to presume that there might some purpose in the visions, but I can't be absolutely sure."

She wet her lips and continued. "If a Jedi is strong enough, their spirit can still live on amongst the living for some time if they feel there is still work that needs to be done. Usually as a guide or mentor for a friend or ally. You haven't mentioned seeing her in your waking hours, it might be possible she isn't strong enough to speak to directly and does so through your dreams."

[Kale]

That was... a lot to take in at once. Kale looked just a little pale all of a sudden.

"You're tellin' me these dreams might be coming from my... my mom's ghost?"

[Navaria Tarkin]

"Yes," she nodded with certainty, "That's exactly what I'm implying."

[Kale]

Kale wasn't sure what to make of that - he'd have to think about it for a while. In his own thoughts, he'd come up with a few possibilities - maybe his mom had done something to him when he was little so these memories would come out piece by piece, or maybe they were somehow stored in the crystal. He'd even entertained the possibility that maybe she was still out there, alive, waiting for him to find her.

But if she was dead, and yet she was somehow reaching out to him from wherever she was now... What did that even mean? Weren't ghosts dangerous to the living? Wasn't that what those horror holos were all about?

"Well," he said finally, pushing his hair back with one hand, "I know there's something real about 'em. See, I followed one of the dreams to a graveyard outside Coronet City on Corellia. And it led me to this."

He unzipped his backpack, then reached inside and unhooked a flap concealing a hidden pouch on the inside. From the pouch he drew a long, thin box made of dark wood that looked as though it had spent some time underground. There was a hairline seam that marked the lid, but there were no visible hinges or latch - nothing a thief could possibly attack from the outside. There was, as far as Kale knew, only one way to open it.

He waved a hand over the box, and there was a minuscule click of an internal catch twisting open. Kale lifted the lid with a sort of silent reverence.

Inside, nested in a velvet recess, was the unmistakable shape of a lightsaber finished in silver and ebony. It was a smaller than standard, crafted for delicate fingers, thin and with a slight taper to the body. But it was also incomplete. It had no power cell, no emitter array, no focusing crystal, no control mechanism.

Carefully, as if it were made of glass, Kale lifted the saber casing out of its box for Navaria to see. "She buried it there. I know she wanted me to find it. But I haven't found anything else yet. I was kinda hoping by the time I finished fixing it I'd have some more answers."

[Navaria Tarkin]

It was a well crafted lightsaber, custom made instead of a carbon copy of certain schematics for a Jedi to use to construct their first lightsaber. This one was special to the user, otherwise why the specially constructed case with soft velvet to protect the casing from any scratches.

She was not arrogant to ask to touch it or the case, feeling that it was only right for the incomplete weapon to be held by only his hands.

"Your Mother is leading you to her weapon," she said, stating the obvious and noted the control mechanism was missing upon closer scrutiny. "But she not did finish it?"

[Kale]

"That's the thing," Kale said, frowning. "I know she had one, and it worked. I've seen her using it. In my dreams, I mean. She never really showed it to me."

He sighed and carefully tested the weight of the saber in his hand. "Which means she took it apart at some point and buried it. Or maybe she buried this one and built another, I dunno."

Kale shrugged apologetically. "Look, I know this isn't really your problem."

[Navaria Tarkin]

"No, it isn't," the Jedi admitted, "But that doesn't mean I don't want to help. The Force brought us together for a reason. To ignore our meeting as chance would be folly."

[Kale]

Kale stared at the saber casing in his hand for a good, long while. Then he carefully placed it back into its velvet-lined box.

"I was headed to Subterrel," he said, "but, really, I don't know what I was lookin' for there. One way or another, I'm gonna be stuck here for a while."

He lifted his eyes to meet Navaria's. "Can I stay with you?"

And then his brain caught up, and he sputtered. "Uh - I mean, not with you... here... I mean, with you and the other Jedi? I know I'm not much of a Jedi myself, but I'm tryin' to learn what I can."

[Navaria Tarkin]

He was a very sweet young man, but that only hid Kale's desperation in unraveling the mystery his mother had left behind. It wasn't his sole motivation, but it was the dominant driving force behind his actions.

"Of course you can," she replied warmly, "But you will need a place to stay since you just arrived. Until I can arrange a safe meeting with the other Jedi, you may stay here if you like."

[Kale]

He stowed the saber case in his backpack once more. "Thanks," he said. "Beats bein' on the street."

This was beyond uncharted territory. Kale had always tried to avoid depending on people, because he'd been let down too many times. But this felt different. These people were in hiding, like he'd been his whole life. And they were Jedi. This was what his mother had wanted for him. Wasn't it?

Maybe only time would tell.