Strangers in a Strange Land

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Warning bells should have gone off the moment she had stepped foot onto the Challenger. Well... they had gone off the moment Dash had asked her to come along really... but what should have been happening was that those alarms in her head should have gotten about a million times louder after Dash had said that things were going to be simple and that all they would really have to do once they had delivered the Jedi to The Wheel was wait.

Charlotte knew better. Nothing was ever simple.

But they'd done their part. Bring the Jedi to The Wheel so he could relay... whatever. And then... well... it was all wait for HQ to phone in. Problem was, it wasn't her HQ. Then again, given the state of the former Dorn Force and her former... wait no... current task force... well... Charlotte wasn't quite sure whose word she would be listening to and waiting on.

An uneasy, even completely uncomfortable breath was taken. Sure, the Challeger was a military ship. Should have been home away from home... but it was a navy vehicle. Filled with flight crews and others she sure as hell didn't want knowing she was on board.

An accusing glare was cast to Dashiel at that point. Frak's sake... even he wasn't her kind. Intel was a-okay with her and all to a point... but just... too many secrets. She was out of her element here. Agreed to come along for some reason or another and now she was a soldier stuck out in space. Stuck with them.

"So Mister Intel... you know where you can make good on the drink you owe me or what?" Charlotte didn't care if it didn't come off as an off handed comment and instead told of all her unease... Dash was one of the few she figured she could relay the truth to and get away with it.

[Dashiel Starborn]

Dash wasn't sure what he'd expected to find aboard the Challenger. They'd arrived without any fanfare (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=22042 ) and within minutes a Jedi Knight had arrived to meet with their passenger and escort him off to – wherever. Now, without a specific task to focus on, he felt like a loose end. He'd been on ships like the Challenger before – practically spent half of his childhood on them – but this felt different. Chewing at the ragged edge of a thumbnail, it was Charlotte's voice that brought him back to the present.

"So Mister Intel... you know where you can make good on the drink you owe me or what?"

A smile tugged one corner of his mouth up. A drink might take the edge off their nerves and try as he might Dash couldn't think of any better ways to pass the time. Well, that wasn't exactly true but –

“Sure. There's got to be a mess around here somewhere, or at least a storage cupboard where they mix engine coollant into moonshine.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Hells, is that what they are reduced to up here? Now it makes all sorts of sense." She offered a half smile when the realization slowly came over her. He seems just as uncomfortable as I am here...

"Well... shall we, then?" Her hand waved to motion for Dash to lead the way. "Come on. I won't be happy until we get into a good 'ol fashioned drunken brawl with some of the fly boys. At least then I can at least try and convince myself that this was worth doing."

One rather nondescript corridor was just as good as another, Charlotte figured as they made their way out of the hanger. After all, even wandering around aimlessly looking for the mess hall was preferred to just standing around trying to be as nondescript as possible.

The silence was almost as annoying as the occasional passing gaze they both received from random crew members they passed. "Well, since I'm sure you can't actually tell me why it is we were escorting a Jedi to a secret Jedi convoy that is apparently backed by our military... you gonna at least let me on to how long you've known about this place?"

[Dashiel Starborn]

“Not long.” Or was it? It didn't feel like all that long. Ever since he'd paired up again with Jane, everything felt as if it'd flashed by like stars blurring by the view-port of a starship in hyperspace.

“I'm surprised they're just letting us wander around like this,” he said, eyes wandering along the lengths of the corridors walls, habitually appraising and analysing what he saw. The crewmen they'd passed mostly gave the pair a wide birth, shying away from eye-contact and conversation, with the exception of the occasional muttered observation. With Dash in what appeared to be civilian clothes and Charlotte in what he assumed was SpecForce standard issue, the pair of them stood out.

It was a pair of fly boys in obnoxious orange flight-suits who eventually lead them to what they were after. It was a room that hadn't started life as a mess hall, but had become one by necessity. At tables and on benches, crew members traded rations and stories. No one had drunk enough to start trading blows. It was the kind of scene he could picture his brother Sal slumping in. Dash glanced back at Charles with a half-smirk that said 'shoulda known.'

“Who d'you want to piss off first?”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Well that depends on how fast your higher ups tell my higher ups who then tell your higher ups that it's all on the straight and narrow that we come back without making us run some bantha-dren errand on the way." She spoke matter-of-factly with an overpowering air of sarcasm, her hand turning palm-up or palm-down with each turn of phrase.

The blissful igorant smirk that was on her lips faded as Charles took a deep breath. "Frak me... remind me why I came here with you." There wasn't a question, just a total sense of defeat that appeared suddenly and just as quickly vanished.

The half-sullen smirk reappeared on her lips as she walked with Dashiel into the makeshift mess. She almost wanted to start giving the thumbs up and pointing and winking at people if not offering an overly cheesy smile. At least then the glances they got would be worth it.

They found an empty table which Charles quickly felt was perfect to occupy given the lack of anyone else... specifically those in brown robes or orange flight suits. She knew a server of any type wouldn't be coming, but just having a place to sit seemed good enough at the moment. She placed an elbow on the table and let her head rest against her hand, lightly pressing a knuckle to her forehead. It wouldn't help with the tension she was feeling, but the tiny twinge of pain at least started to take her mind off what was painfully obvious to herself... "I ever mention I really don't care for Force Users and their associates?"

[Dashiel Starborn]

Sitting down on the opposite side of the table, Dash hunched his shoulders and dipped his head a little as he spoke. “Not in as many words, no.”

He glanced around the room. The benches were crammed with humans and aliens alike and their one defining feature was that they looked... normal. They talked and ate, grumbled and laughed, about the same as a crew he'd seen aboard any other ship. To look at them, you'd never have guessed that they were serving aboard the flagship of a top secret convoy. Even their conversations were mundane. Had anyone heard the smashball scores from Socorro Sand Dragons game? When was the next shipment of real food arriving?

Dash slid his eyes back to Charlotte.

“You meet a lot of Jedi with Cresh and Dorn?”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Jedi?" She paused a beat and then shook her head. "Nah. Hells, I'm damn surprised to see they even exist in any capacity. History tries to teach us they were all wiped out, after all. You always figure one or two made it out alive but I guess I always thought they'd be hiding in a hole somewhere rather than banding together..."

She shrugged a shoulder. "Survivalists. No wonder we're involved." A small laugh left her as she ran a hand through her hair... well, as best she could with it pulled back. Her fingertips still managed to get tangled in a stray strand.

"But yeah, this is my first experience around anyone calling themselves a Jedi. Had a small situation with some rogue force user who thought he was a god back when I wasn't the only one in Cresh... wasn't pretty."

Charlotte could barely recall what the guy looked like or why it was they had come across him. Only the look he had given her. He knew. Just like they'll all know. The thought was enough to set her on edge again.

"I dunno... I just can't get comfortable around them. I'm going to be about a million times more agreeable when this whole convoy is in our rear-view." A small laugh left her again. "Not that I've really got anything to go back to. They disbanded Dorn."

[Dashiel Starborn]

“They what?”

Both eyebrows lifted. That was news to Dash.

Most of Intel's agents spent their time alone or working undercover with people who had no idea what their real angle was. On the rare occasion that they did work as a unit, they were disbanded the moment that their mission had been completed. There was no attempt to foster team spirit or create long-standing task-forces. The best an agent could hope for was an on-again off-again partner and even that was almost unheard of. The closest he'd gotten to a partner was Tur'enne herself and it had to be only a matter of time before the war sent them in different directions.

His shoulders slumping forward, Starborn exhaled a breath.

“Are you alright?”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Aside from wanting to bribe someone to make propoganda flyers demanding that Oruo'rel pull the giant stick out of his ass?"

The lackadaisical smile that followed was forced. Charlotte knew damn well that Dash would know, whether by training with the spooks or the actual possibility he had been around her long enough, either way it wasn't worth trying to keep up.

Her shoulders slumped and an elbow found its way to the table, the perfect opportunity to prop her head up and let its weight just rest in her hand a moment. A long sigh sigh was blown out through barely puckered lips as she forced her hand to drag along the back of her head and let go so she would have to look up again.

"I don't know, Dash. Feel like I'm just half-assed surviving ever since that dren on Nelvaan. I got back to base and the Major got all weird on me and tried to promote me and then Oruo'rel called his bluff and tossed all of us in different directions. I know war's hell and all but when you can't even feel like you're winning with your own side..."

Charlotte let the sentiment linger in the air as she eyed a few of The Wheel's regular inhabitants.

"Yeah, I just don't know."

[Dashiel Starborn]

“Oruo'rel pulls that stick out of his ass and we've got enough stick to hit a home-run with a small moon.”

The fact that Dash had little in the way of actual experience with the head of SpecForce was irrelevant. The Bothan had a reputation, the kind that he supposed his own aunt had too. It couldn't have been easy, making the big decisions that shaped the course of the Rebellion, but the Advisory Council wasn't about to win any sympathy from the average soldier or pilot. The relative safety and security of Bothawui and Dac were a long way away from the kind of wild space where most members of the Rebellion spent their days.

Suddenly frowning, Dash looked up and down the length of the table they were sitting at then craned his neck to peer around the room.

“Didn't we come down here looking for a drink?”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"You know, I do believe we did. And I also believe you owe me."

She gave him a playful shove with her shoulder followed by a half-smirk. The whole thing spoke of: you damn well better get me whatever excuse for beer they have on this heap or you will regret ever bringing me here.

[Dashiel Starborn]

Dash swung his legs out from beneath the table and pushed himself to his feet. “I'll see if they've got any rum that's up to your high standards.”

Once he was standing, a realisation dawned on Dash. They weren't in some bar or food court, where he could just wander up to a counter and put in an order for a couple of stiff drinks. Shoving his hands into his pockets and puffing his cheeks out with a breath, Dash frowned at the sight he was presented with: the only likely looking source of a drink was a table that was playing host to a Sabacc game.

Dash ambled up alongside the table as casually as he could. There was an unmarked bottle of dark liquid in the centre of the table. He glanced around at the faces of the Sabacc players.

“Any idea where I can score some of that?” he asked, with a nod at the bottle.

[Jamo Jakatta]

As he sorted the hand of cards he'd been dealt, Jamo shared a smirk with the three others sitting at the table with him.

“This right here is the last bottle on the ship.”

It wasn't even a full bottle, by any stretch of the imagination, but that hardly mattered. Some idiot from engineering had made the mistake of betting it and now Jamo was going to win it. Maybe even win a little extra, if he could get another rube in on the game. Gesturing to a free space at the table, he flashed Starborn an arch smile.

“Game's Corellian Gambit. If you can meet the ante – that's five grade-one ration tokens - you can play for it.”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Of course she was listening in. What? Like she was expected to sit there moping some more with Dash on the search for alcohol? Not likely.

So when Charlotte overheard the little bit about a card game she was on her feet and next to her sometimes-partner with a crooked grin in her lips. Gods how long had it been since a good hang of Corellian Gambit? Must have been before she had been assigned to Dorn... Yeah, too damn long.

"That right?" She practically leered over Dash's shoulder at the pilot. "I got tokens. You know, if you think you can beat one of Corellian's finest at their own game."

[Jamo Jakatta]

“Corellia's finest?” Joker's smile became a grin. Not the finest maybe, but she was fine.

“Sit your ass down, sunshine. You too, stuffed shirt.”

A couple of groans went up from the table as Jamo motioned for everyone to pass their cards to him. If they were going to bring in two new players, it was only right that they shuffle and re-deal the deck. Plus, it was a good chance for Jamo to off-load the useless hand he'd been dealt.

“So, where you from, Corellisi?” he asked, glancing up at Charlotte as he knocked the newly shuffled desk against the table in front of him then began to deal.

[Dashiel Starborn]

Dash tried not to wince at his hand: the one of coins, the master of staves and the 'Moderation' card. The word useless was an understatement. Still, he put on a brave face. Though he wasn't muc of a Sabacc player, he was a trained intelligence agent. The many smirking faces of the 'fighter corps weren't the only ones well-versed in acting confident, even when they didn't have a clue what they were doing.

He kept his mouth shut for the time being, however, eyes shifting between the faces of his opponents and their prize.

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Charlotte leaned back in the chair, pushing off the ground with one foot to begin causing the chair to lean on its back legs. She peered at the five of flasks, Mistress and Balance cards in her hands for an instant before looking back to Jamo.

"Coronet, originally. You?"

The idle chit-chat was great for keeping her from making faces at the cards. She didn't have the best sabacc face in the galaxy, but years of being forced to tuck away emotions helped enough to get by for a casual game.

[Jamo Jakatta]

Jamo looked over his cards. The eleven of coins, the nine of staves and the Idiot. It was his best hand of the day so far. His eyebrows lifted. Inwardly, he cursed at himself though he hoped he could pass off the look of surprise as being a response to the blonde's answer.

“No shit. I grew up in C-Net City too. Lived above the tattoo place that my old man owned in Blue town (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Blue_Sector). Which sector're your folks from?”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

What a loaded damn question. Not that the pilot had intended it, she was sure but still... how do you go about telling someone they came from the shithole side of town while you were raised in a large home within a decent walking distance of the museum and other such points of high society? Not that Charlotte had ever really thought about such things but it just seemed awkward to say that her family had probably put his in jail at some point. Nice.

"Heh. Let's just say, they're from the other side of town and leave it at that. Nothing as interesting as living over a tattoo joint, that's for sure."

That bottle of hooch was looking all the more appetizing as she was forced to think of home. Corellia... still technically under Imperial control. It made her skin crawl.

[Jamo Jakatta]

The other side of town. With a glance at the stuffed shirt, Jamo could put two and two together. He shrugged one shoulder.

“Corellian's Corellian. You're on the right side now anyway, so we can forgive you for having an underprivileged childhood.”

He picked one of the cards out of his hand to shuttle them around.

“So who you both with? Fleet command?”

[Dashiel Starborn]

While Tur'enne talked with the pilots, Dash's eyes were on the prize: a bottle of familiar looking liquor. He thought of the last time (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=20223) he'd gotten drunk with Charlotte. One corner of his mouth tugged upwards in a small smile as he looked across the table at her.

“So who you both with? Fleet command?”

“Uh,” Dash blinked out of his distraction. “We're with...”

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

Charlotte cast a playful glance as her partner stumbled over his words. She brought a finger to her lips.

"It's a secret."

It wasn't exactly a lie. Both the Intel operative and Spec Force officer had enough black marks over their reports that top secret was the norm and surely this little trip to the Wheel was going to end up in the same category.

[Jamo Jakatta]

“More secret than this?” Cards in one hand, Jamo gestured with the other to the room around them.

“Cause I'm willing to bet a whole 'nother weeks worth of coupons that whatever blue milk run you two are on doesn't compare to this.”

Across the table from him, another of the pilots - a Zabrak with pale blonde hair pulled into a top-knot that did little to hide her horns – groaned and shook her head.

“Will you shut up and play already?”