SCC: Changing

[Arya Ravenwing]

<center>Right Before Your Eyes
Hoobastank

When the door shuts
Don’t worry about me
Its not attention that I want from you
I need you to trust who I’m gonna be
And in everything I’m going to do

Cause I’m not afraid
Of what I don’t know
For understanding is all that I earn
What is for sure is I’m gonna to go
I’m gonna to live and I’m going to learn

And I know there will be mistakes that I will make
But I know they’re not worse than chances I don’t take, take
Right before your eyes I am changing, changing
New life on the inside I am changing, changing

When the door shuts
It shuts in front of me
A new person that I have become
I follow my heart to my destiny
But living in fear and sorrow is done

There will be no more feeling that I’m all alone
I will surround myself with things that help me grow, grow
Right before your eyes I am changing, changing
New life on the inside I am changing, changing

Right before your eyes I am changing, changing
New life on the inside I am changing, changing
Right before your eyes I am changing, changing
New life on the inside I am changing, changing

Right before your eyes
Right before your eyes</center>

In the circle that has often been ascribed to Life, we tread in it, never changing, always holding to our course due to fear of change. Fearing to come out of our comfort zones. It is like a habit: we do the same things we detest in ourselves time and time again because we don’t take the strength to change course. We look ourselves in the mirror and hate what we see, but we still never change. We always want to be who we want to be, not who we need to be. But sometimes, the circle kinks... Suddenly our comfort zones are kicked aside. And we have to rise up and be something we never thought we could be.

Hyperspace slid by silently, starlines streaking across the viewscreen in a brilliant display. The person in the cockpit wasn't enjoying the view, however, feet up on the console and head resting on a carefully propped arm. The smuggler yawned, eyelids heavy from lack of sleep, and shifted as various body parts threatened to go numb.

It had been a long day. No, a long two days. Frell, I'm getting old. I can't go without sleep like I used to. At thirty-three, Arya Ravenwing was still a 'fine figure of a woman,' as some men illadvisedly said, but she was feeling the march of years.

Five years ago she'd been a small time smuggler trying to make enough money to get by. And now she was still a small time smuggler trying to make enough money to get by. It was depressing to think about how much hadn't changed.

Arya tried to stifle another yawn, failed, and curled up in the pilot's seat, drawing her legs up underneath her. Her boots were uncomfortable, but she never took them off, and maybe they'd help keep her awake. She was heading towards Coruscant, doing a drop for her latest employer, Dan the mysterioso. "Da nooba tai chak towei ao voncho da parab." Trust him as far as you can throw him.

"Frell, I need the money, so I take his money." Her Basic was lightly accented, due to it not being her first language. No, she'd grown up on Ryloth, underground, and learnt Twi'lek from her playmates. She could barely remember even talking to her mother, Lysa, in any language other than Twi'lek. Lysa Ravenwing had slumped into a passive sort of insanity after the assassination of her husband while pregnant with Arya.

She'd learnt a new language in their hideaway home on Ryloth. Hiding from them, the mysterious killers of her father, Rynon. Who her father had been, or why people would want to kill his only heir, was never explained to young Arya. She'd been given a medallion, the seal of the Ravenwings, apparently, and something her father had worn. It was imprinted with symbols she couldn't read or understand, and had a raven's head on one side.

When Arya was seventeen, Lysa went on to be with Rynon (who she'd talked to every day in the mirror, much to Arya's embarrassment), and Arya had left to see what the world would hold for her.

It held love, and danger, and heartbreak. The smuggler yawned again, the old heartbreak not quite the raw wound it had been. The Job had ensnared her, and here she was, falling asleep after two days of keeping her eyes open for anything suspicious. She didn't trust Dan; he seemed to have a sadistic side that she was sure he'd eventually level at her.

And so as long as his cargo was on board, she'd not been able to sleep. Of course, now that Coruscant was nearing and she had to be awake, she was falling asleep. Hyperspace swirls danced in front of her eyes, and she blinked heavily. Just a few more minutes until the reversion...

The dark haired smuggler yawned again, head leaning back against the seat as the countdown timer reached five minutes. Four minutes. Three minutes. Two minutes.

One minute... thirty seconds...

Her eyes were closed, and her mouth open as the light blinked and the ship made the transisition from hyperspace to realspace, jostling her rudely awake. Arya snatched her blaster from its holster as she fell against the console, pointing it at the co-pilot's seat. "Gah." Now I'm jumping at shadows and daydreams.

The smuggler tossed her blaster into the seat beside her, and set herself to the task of checking the ship's systems and calling Coruscant Flight Control for a spot in the traffic leading into the city planet. The Wing of the Raven had been identified as Lady of Ale, and she was soon shunted off into a viable space lane.

She sat back, scrubbing sleep from her eyes and fighting another yawn, as she followed the sublight glow from the yacht in front of her. Nothing to it. And she'd probably still be doing this five years from now. Not trying to get into Coruscant - traffic was bad, but not that bad - but scraping by from credit to credit, scrounging what jobs she could get. It wasn't that she wasn't paid a lot, it was just that her overhead was so high. She couldn't afford another ship, and Wing of the Raven was always ready for more upgrades. Which were costly.

But they also kept her out of jail, which was worth it. She yawned. Nothing ever changed, and traffic into Coruscant certainly hadn't changed at all. Arya checked her chrono. She'd be about twenty minutes late to her drop if things didn't speed up. Frell.

ooc: PM if you would like to enter the thread, give a reason that's good enough, and permission will be granted. /ic

[Darth Turbogeek]

In the circle that has often been ascribed to Life, we tread in it, never changing, always holding to our course due to fear of change. To come out of our comfort zones. It’s like a habit, we do the same things, we do the same things we detest in ourselves time and time again because we don’t take the strength to change course. We look ourselves in the mirror and hate what we see, but we still never change. We always want to be whom we want to be, even if we don’t like it, not whom we need to be. But sometimes, the circle kinks…. Suddenly our comfort zones are kicked aside. And we have to rise up and be something we never thought we could be.

Or the cycle could turn us around and take us places we never wanted to go back to.

--

The light of the distant stars shone dimly into the room of the star liner, a large 30 by 15 suite that was quite well appointed, obviously crafted for the passenger who could afford a few luxuries. The light shone in on a bed, shone on a collection of bottles that occasionally clinked as the ship moved, shone on a well decorated lounge room, shone on a bed. The blanket on that bed was embroidered, the pillow was done similarly. The head on the pillow was covered in neat short black hair. A arm dangled from under the blanket, Snores could be heard coming from the depths of the blanket. There was some ladies clothing on the bed. Nothing else in the room moved.

Time went past with no further movement.

Conscious came back quickly as a small beeping sounded from the side fo the bed. The arm moved to a place next to the head and a soft moan was expelled.

Another few minutes with only vague stirrings.

The figure in the bed moved, the sheets rippled with the movement. A yawn could be heard, somethign very much like scratching, then quite abruptly a very loud fart broke the silence. A grunt, then another trumpet-like blast, reducing in volume to a squeak of escaping air. A face appeared from under the sheets, a wry if sleepy grin on his handsome face. Just for added amusement, he shifted his weight once again to allow another blast of sound out from between his buttocks.

"Oh yeah! Cop a whiff of that one! Woohoo! Two minutes away and already my butt trumpet is in tune. Welcome to the day, my fine farts! Be free to waft where you will!"

The sheet slipped off his torso revealing a man of about 30, well toned muscle, not particularly big but obviously quite fit and trim. He had a vaguely rat-like face, intense eyes that were scanning the room, long fingers that were finely manicured, his face was clean shaven, hair in perfect order. Not a blemish maked his body. He turned and lowed his feet to the floor, revelling in the feel of the carpet in between his bare toes. Standing up, he stretched and worked the various kinks out of his body, before sightign the women's clothing on the bed. One eye rose in mild beamusement as he glanced over the bed. Odd. There was no sign that a female had been in the room for the evening and he certainly didn't remember one. As he wasn't into consuming mind altering substances, it was unlikely he would forget. He wasn't the type to be mindless about such things either.

Still.... why were they there? He wasn't into kinks either, so that the clothing he might have been wearing was out of the question too. The puzzle helped wake his mind up from sleep even more as he struggled to remember. Then, abruptly it clicked - three nights ago, there had been a party in this room. While he had not been the one doing the entertaining, he distinctly remembered a high ranking diplomat sneaking off with a particularly nice looking bit of tail - he had found the clothing in the bathroom. Well.

He laughed as he went to the refresher, picking up a towel that was neatly folded over the back of a chair. A minute later, he was beginnign to enjoy a long hot soak in a tub, the water plesantly scented with some scatchels from ... somewhere. Somewhere exotic anyway. Probably cost a lot, even as a little packet. The soap was of some exotic blend too. Really he considered, this was the life. Strolling about the Galaxy, enjoying first class luxury at the expense of others, going where the money was the best for a man of his talents, living life to the fullest. Not that he was a full time good times boy, no far from it. A good set of clothes, a good bed, good food and maybe, a good bed companion. That's all he really wanted and yes, he got them. Being handsome, well dressed and well spoken, he got the good women too.

His name to the Galaxy was Turlogee Anasta. A man of lesuire you could say. Owned and ran a pretty respectible trading company, specialising in medical equipment. A man whom had quite a knowledge on the medical trade, also quite a skill in healing, so pronounced some wondered wether he had been blessed by some God. The truth, of which he didn't deny if anyone guessed it, was that he had a gift of The Force that allowed him to accomplish feats in healing the very best medical droids struggled to match. Right from that day he saved that lady's life and that of one of her unborn children, up to yesterday when operating to remove a tumour, he had his skill challenged and generally, he rose to th challenge. Of course some died in his care, but likely, they would have died anyway. No disgrace in that.

Turlogee Medical he called his company. Starting to turn a decent profit now, growing at 25% this year. Him always flying backward and forward, earning higher and higher fees for his healing abilitity. Oh, he also qualified as a full Doctor last year. It had been pretty simple in the end, his knack and also his prodigious memory helped. He just didnt forget anythign and could recall within a faction of a second any medical fact he had ever learned. In fact... right next to his elbow he had a data pad, all ready for this morning bath. He picked it up, clicked for play and began to read about the latest retrovirus in Bothans.

About a hour later, wrinkled but now dry after towellign himself off, he crossed to his wardrobe to pull out a good suit for today. He preferred dark clothing, well tailored to match his frame. Wasn't into robes or anything like that. Smart shirt, jacket, pants, well shined leather shoes. He dressed quick, feeling rather hungry now. Breakfast wasn't soemthign to be missed on this craft, the chefs were by acclaim, excellent.

[Dan the Man]

tick...tick...tick...

The oil wet the rag, glistening in the dim articicial light. Careful fingers guided the rag to its mark, wasting not a single drop. They glided the cloth down long and graceful contours of steel, careful not to miss a single recess.

Dan set the cloth aside after much consideration, and studied his work well. In the reflection of his gun, he saw the tell-tale hands of his desk chronometer.

She was late.

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Frelling dunes of Tattooine!" Arya pounded the console with her fist in frustration as a larger freighter cut off the Chevvette77. "I was frelling here first you piece of dren!" A rude hand gesture was directed towards the other freighter's sublights as she followed it down to the spaceport.

When she finally docked in the appropriate bay she was steaming mad, and twenty five minutes behind schedule. Of course, she wasn't used to working with such a precise time schedule. A simple "three days from now" was what she usually dealt with. The smuggler slapped the hull of the Wing of the Raven with an open palm, and looked around once just as a precaution.

The only beings visible were a few mechanics wandering around in greasy coveralls, and they were far enough away not to make any difference. Of course, a blaster bolt would travel fast and far, but her minds eye wasn't putting up any sort of warnings on these few fellows. There could always be a Wraith hiding in a dark corner, but she contented herself with one hand on the railgun on her hip as she opened up the cargo bay's airlock.

Threepio wasn't in the hold for once, she'd left the droid up in the cockpit to keep an eye on things (two optical sensors, to be precise). Arya's boots clanged loudly on the metal deck plating as she strode across the mostly empty hold and reached the dull silver briefcase that was resting upright in a secure spot near the bulkhead.

Her long fingers grasped the smooth black handle, and she lifted it up and out of it's spot with a gentle heave. Ten quick strides and she was out of the freighter and locking it up. She placed the briefcase by her feet as she activated the security codes, but picked it up as soon as she was finished.

Arya didn't like operating with one hand occupied, but as long as her right hand was free she felt confident enough. Now, just a fast taxi away from Dan and payday. If she was quick enough on the ground, she could make up a bit of the lost time.

And indeed, when the smuggler exited the repulsor cab in the Chun district she had managed to cut her time to a mere ten minutes behind schedule. She tipped the driver an extra thirty creds, as promised, and waslked briskly into the building she'd been dropped off at.

She entered the turbolift, and pressed the button for the top floor, briefcase resting lightly against her left thigh as she held it firmly in her hand.

[Dan the Man]

The turbolift door peeled back, revealing the furnishings of Dan's penthouse interior. The assassin sat relaxed on an oversized leather couch, with one of his ornate blasters laying clean and gleaming across his lap. Across the room, a fireplace full of orange embers glowed, giving the room an inviting feeling. The broad walkway in between was taken up by a hologram. An old Twi'leki martial arts holo-film, originally in Huttese and dubbed into Basic. The current scene featured a sagely white Twi'lek, kneeling in a candle-lit cave. It was both dramatic and cheesy at the same time.

"Hello Smuggler."

Dan's eyes panned sideways to the approaching woman, lingering for a moment before returning to the film.

"Have a seat."

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya walked through the opened doors into the penthouse and gave it the once over as Dan's voice greeted her. The holo-film re-took his attention, and she sat carefully on the edge of the leather armchair he offered her.

The briefcase she put carefully by the side of the armchair. "That's a classic." She nodded toward the holo.

[Dan the Man]

"I didn't know you were a fan of Ryloth Shadow Fist films."

Dan once again diverted his attention to Arya, marginally impressed.

"I've always enjoyed them. Never very well acted, and the plots are always predictable. But, the symbolism is so very well done."

In the film, the sagely old Twi'lek was interrupted by a green-skinned one, in a tight black tunic.

"The bad guy, for one, is always wearing black. Its something so simple, yet so ludicrous once you think about it."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She shrugged lightly. "I grew up on a steady diet of old Shadow Fist films. I loved this one - the apprentice of the master has to avenge his..." The green Twi-lek began to battle the elder, lekku flailing as they flew into a complex form of martial arts that she'd forgotten the name of.

"Well, I wouldn't want to ruin it for you." She remained sitting on the edge of the chair, but reached for the briefcase, ready to bring it to Dan.

[Dan the Man]

"...his master's death at the hand of the rival school." Dan finished, and then smiled.

"I've seen this movie dozens of times. You're a woman after my heart, Miss Ravenwing."

Reaching to the wooden lampstand adjacent to the couch, Dan hit the pause button on a remote, freezing the holograms mid-kick.

"That being said, you're still late."

He turned to face her fully, and whatever pleastantries had been on his face before had evaporated.

[Arya Ravenwing]

She kept her eyes flat, matching his reptillian stare. "Yes. The secret to smuggling is not attracting un-due attention, which is why I obeyed the traffic laws coming in-planet. CSA&G decided to close one of the available lanes from the side I approached from, and I did not have enough advance warning to change my plans accordingly. I -" she stifled a yawn, "I am late by ten minutes."

Arya kept her eyes on his, and her hand on the briefcase by her legs.

[Dan the Man]

"I didn't ask for an excuse."

Dan leaned back on the couch, looking away from the smuggler.

"I asked you to do the job. Do I pay you well?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya took measured breaths, and her face remained still, even though her anger was bubbling up inside. "So far."

She watched him carefully, drawing both her hands up to her lap and leaving the case on the floor.

[Dan the Man]

"Why do I pay you so well? I'll make no mystery about it. I like you, Smuggler. I've liked you since I met you. But its not why I'm paying you. I'm paying you because I expect you to sweat the small stuff."

Dan pointed to the case.

"That's a little case."

He pointed to the chrono.

"And that's a little past. Thus, the small stuff's self evident."

He leaned forward, demeanor deadly serious.

"Miss Ravenwing, you're working for an organization that does not tolerate failure. Don't ever forget who I am."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She blinked at that. Working for an organization? "Actually, the most you've ever told me is that you're someone who can put your money where your mouth is. And you have, so far."

Arya stood to her feet, leaving the briefcase on the ground. "Your case is here. If you don't want to pay me, feel free to say so. Frankly, I'm running a little behind today, and I don't have time to sit here and listen to you." Her eyes flashed a bit of the fire she was feeling inside.

[Dan the Man]

"Sit down."

It was the closest thing to an imperative statement that Arya had heard from the man.

"I'm trying to talk to you, and all you've got in your head is the money."

A droid seemed to detatch itself from the wall and approached the table in front of Arya, depositing a small pouch.

"Fifty thousand, various origination chits."

-click-

Dan drew back the actuator on his blaster, which hadn't left his lap.

"Don't touch it till I'm finished."

Keeping the blaster in a steady hand, he continued.

"It may seem almost idealistic for me to say this, not that you haven't heard it before, but there's more to what we do than the money. The task I sent you on, I sent you to fail."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She sat. She was mad at herself for doing it, but a blaster didn't allow her much room for argument. Her eyes strayed to the bundle of credits on the table, but snapped back quickly to Dan's eyes.

Ah well, good job there Dan, I certainly seemed to have failed. Here we go, idealistic rant about the state of aliens and humans these days and how you're about to set up the master race, or some such nonsense, and I was sent to fail to prove that women can't be in the workplace. The situation was serious, yet her thoughts had taken such a silly turn that she had to work at keeping her face still.

There didn't seem to be anything to say in reply to his revelation, so Arya simply waited for Dan to explain his statement.

[Dan the Man]

"How we fail is at the very least as important as how we succeed, Miss Ravenwing. You may find my panache for character to be archaic, but it's every bit as important as the bottom line. That and excuses are terrible epitaphs.

If you stay honest with me...honest with yourself...you'll find that success is more than just winning and losing."

Noting that his monologue was going over with melba toast's dryness, Dan split the tension with a smile.

"You sat & heard me out. The money's yours. Just take what I have to say seriously."

Dan stood up, stretched a bit, and tossed his blaster to Arya, who quickly discovered that not a single cyllinder held a power cell. The assassin walked across the room, looking at a cabinet behind the penthouse's bar.

[Arya Ravenwing]

She snagged the blaster out of the air, catching it by the butt, and discretely checked the power cells. I should have known. It was empty.

With her free hand, Arya picked up the bag of chits and slipped it into the inside pocket of her nerfhide jacket. The smuggler got to her feet again, and queried her employer, "Do you want me to put the briefcase somewhere for you?"

She looked around the penthouse, peering through the holo-film that was paused in the middle of a whirling fight sequence. It was an expansive, tastefully decorated masterpiece, but didn't seem to quite reflect Dan, the man. It seemed... "Enjoying your new place?" A gutsy guess, but she was suddenly sure she was right. He had not lived here long, a few months, tops.

New to money, then? What organization am I working for?

[Dan the Man]

Dan waved a dismissive hand.

"Leave it. I'll get to it later."

Inspecting a few bottles, he pulled a hexagonal blown glass decanter, removing the stopper from the top. Arya inquired about his penthouse.

"It's got an appeal, I'll give it that. A bit more than what I'm used to."

He set the bottle on the counter, and looked across to her. He could almost see another question, forming on her mind like a storm cloud.

[Arya Ravenwing]

She focused, and managed to stop herself from asking the questions piling up in her mind. Be careful what you ask - you might not enjoy the answers. But then, wasn't it better just to know the truth?

Arya shrugged in response to his answer. "I suppose that given enough time, one could get used to anything. Even a gilded cage." She half winked, but caught herself, and tried to stop. It was easy to forget herself around Dan, he was easy going when he wasn't calmly pointing a blaster at you and promising death in the same tone of voice most people used when composing their grocery lists.

"Ah..." Her comm pinged and she hesitated. "Do you mind?" Arya pulled her comm off her belt, and looked at Dan.

[Darth Turbogeek]

The breakfast as expected was excellent. Turbogeek burped slightly as he finshed off the remains of a particularly fine piece of meat, well spiced and with a texture that seemed to melt in the mouth. Some spiced tea and all would be well for now. He leaned back, savouring the flavours on his taste buds as he sipped the drink. On reflection, he had to admit he hadn't been more busy or for that matter, staisfied. Life was good and this trip, for buisness to Bilbringi and a fat equipment supply contract, would swell his bank accounts considerably. Of course there was competition for the contract, but the quality of his equipment, along with his ability to be pervasive would see this in the bag. dead cert. He knew the question they would ask, the assurances, the other bid details. His bid data pad, safely locked and guarded, would wow them.

As it should. Turbogeek was good.

"excuse me?"

Turbogeek opened his eyes and glanced to his side, where a waiter was standing. "Yep?"

"Mr Anasta, I am sorry to bother you in the middle of breakfast, but I have a class one priority Holonet call for you. I have attempted to dissuade them, but they insist. Could you please accompany me?"

What the...? He was surprised, to say the least. Hardly anyone knew he was here. What could be so important that a class one Holonet was needed? His business associates knew better than to bother him with anything less than a critical emergency. "Did they leave a name?"

"No sir, but they did permit me to say that it's about a small matter that needed your personal attention to be mutually satisfied"

No hint of surprise on his face. "Sounds like a nonsense to me. Is this call terminated at a secure location?"

"Yes sir and we guarenttee that it is private and will remain so"

Wow. Someone had a bug up their date to not only get Class One, but secure comm. Bet there was encryption too inside of the tunnel. He got up, picked up his cup (no sense wasting a good cuppa), followed the waiter out of the restraunt. Htey went up some stairs, then along a corridor to a point where there was a room isolated.

"It has military grade security sir. No one can overhear you"

And it seemed that way to his knowledgable eye. Filter stacks, shielding, tunnelers and anti slicing comms units. Turbogeek pulled out his personal id card, inserted it in a slot. It beeped, then requested a particular encrypt code. Seeing what it was, Turbogeek felt his blood run cold. No way... how did they get that one?

"Okay, you got my attention" he said into the speaker plate. "Real cute. Who do you think you are?"

"It's not who we think we are" repiled a cold voice from the other end "It's who we are. And you are Turbogeek"

Okay.... that wasn't a name just anyone knew. Now he was getting angry - and curious. "Cut the crap mate. If your looking to impress me with your detective work, I'm impressed, got it? Quit playing games and tell me who you are and what the frell you want"

The voice ont he other end spoke for 10 time clicks, through which Turbogeek listened firstly with annoyance, then to puzzlement, then to a WTF."

"....And, for this we would offer you suitible recompence. Is this to your liking, Master turbogeek?"

"Depends...... what type of recompence are we on for here?"

The figure named was .... nah. He didnt hear that right. "Dont waste my time, no one has that..."

"Oh, but we do Master Turbogeek. We do. And we trust you so much to complete this job, we pay in advance. Now. If you say yes"

"Errr..... now? Come off it. Okay, how about I accept if I see the credits, five minutes. Otherwise..... I dont think your fancy routing will save your sorry butt"

"But of course Master Turbogeek. We dont underestimate you abilities. Five minutes. Full details and resource uplink same time. We will be awaiting your acknowledgement of payment reciept"

The transmission died, leaving Turbogeek seriously WTF'ed. The job was a good one, he had to admit. Difficult too. And he would need help.

--

The large deposits into his accounts came from all sorts of directions, again untracable and legal. At exactly 5 minutes. Not only was he impressed that they knew his accoutns, it was impressive how long it would take to spend that much script. and all relavent taxes had been paid. A little bit of creative accounting saw the credits disappear again, buried somewhere where no one, not even this mob knew.

Although, they had come up with his own codes. He wouldnt put it past them. Well, he could still do more to hide the credit trail. After he looked over the rest of the info they had sent. Of which there was a motza of. And after he he sent bac a hell yeah, he was taking the job.

--

Bilbrigi went as expected. The contract was set in encrypt even before he boarded a private yacht that had arrived for him ebfore the negotiations finished. They gave him priority clearence to hit hyperspace. and then, only then, he turned to the beings in the craft.

"You got the message I see. How quick can we organise?"

"A week, maybe quicker. We've been burning glowpad to sort this out and line up who we need"

"Good, as I expected of you. Good work all of you. We'll give our employers somethign so good, they will get a bargain for their credits"

--

It took time it did. Planning time, time to contact beings, call up favours, research. By the time the wings of his private yacht touched the atmosphere of Arcan IV, it had been some months. A lot of sleepless nights, arguments, planning sessions gone wrong, data to crunch, near misses... but finally, on this particularly nice day for Arcan City, it was time to roll.

Following his yacht was a few freighters, filled with a donation of med supplies and equipment. Arcan wasnt all that well off for such things and a publicity drive had seen someone from the staff of one of the larger medical schools send a plea for donations, of which with his new found wealth, he was more than happy to meet. and well and truly go way above the call of duty. he even both technicians and burly dock workers to install it all.

--

He was met in person by the Governor of Arcan IV, Roger Ra'jet. And the representative of Senator Evenstar, the good senator giving her apologies for not attending. Seemed some sort of emergency vote call had drawn her away back to Coruscant.

turbogeek noted that secuirty seemed tighter than he would have expected as he came down the ramp. He even commented on it after the proper greetings to His Excellency.

"Nothing... just a precaution. All fo this equipment is rather expensive and fragile, wouldn't want it to be harmed or stolen now, wold we?" The hollow laugh didn't fool Turbogeek. Nor did the obviously wary soldiers.

"Hey boss, you think they could be here cause of the bombing of the hotel?" asked his pilot, softly so no one else could overhear.

"Yes, that would do it. Spread the word to be careful"

--

Later that night, he was in a particualrly fine suite. He had a glass of wine in his hand, looking out the window, rememberign the last time he had been here. What a night it had been, the fall of the old Governor and his corruption, the coming of the NRSF and the Jedi, with their hero, Tohmahawk. It was almost like a cult here for that man.

Looking out the window and seeign the mist roll in bought back so many memories. Good memories of a wild night. Maybe he could find those ladies again later...?

He remembered the look on Arya's face as he told her what he had seeing that brotel. How she had laughed.

Hell, come to think of it, he hadn't seen Arya in years. And with the fact eh was goign to be here for a bit, seemed like as good as time as any.

He stared out the window for nearly an hour, before making a decision. He went to his case, opened it to reveal his personal commstation. Settign the glass down next to it, he tapped in an old code. Much to his surprise, it acknowledged. hey, she still had the same number!

"Hello? This is Dr Anasta calling for Arya Ravenwing. Could I speak to her please? I have a job she might be interested in"

"Master turbogeek? Why hello sir! It is so good to hear from you again!"

...... You had to be kidding me, he thought.

"Threepio? What? She hasn't melted you down for scrap yet? Come on, dont keep me waiting, put her on!"

[Pierce Tondry]

"Hello, Marcus. It's been a long time."

Of all the people in the world who might've sent Jedi Master Marcus Telcontar a message through the winding backchannels of the galaxy, Pierce Tondry was perhaps the most unexpected. Though since Pierce was one of a small few who could actually accomplish such a feat, it barely elicted a reaction from the Jedi Master looking at the datapad in his hands.

What pricked Marcus ' curiosity more than how Pierce had sent him a message was why Pierce had chosen to do so. Marcus had gone into hiding as a member of The Lost and participated in activities the Order's Council did not sanction. Attacks on suspected Sith, for example, that were pre-emptive and could be viewed as violations of the Jedi Code's standard of defensive action, if one chose to do so.

Pierce, on the other hand, had always been about the proper enforcement of law. Under the Empire, Pierce's sense of justice was one of the qualities that had helped to redeem him and turn him against Ysanne Isard. He'd brought that with him to the Jedi Order and had continued to uphold the standard, even going so far as to arrest-

Marcus broke off that line of thought before it went somewhere troubling. No, it was safe to say he and Pierce did not always see eye to eye.

The message was continuing. "They went and made me a Jedi Knight." ('That happened awhile ago. How old is this recording?' Marcus wondered.) "Imagine that. Me, a Jedi. If you'd told me it was in the cards a couple years ago, I'd have shot you. And speaking of that-"

"Do you remember Arcan IV, Marcus? How you held me in the air while a thief made off with my rifle? How you kicked my butt up and down the block and left me in a pool of my own blood? I swore to myself that the day I became a Jedi was the day I shot you dead with the rifle I'd lost. Well, guess what? I have my rifle back. And if this recording is playing, that means I've already found you-"

In the recording, Pierce whipped his weapon up, pulled the trigger and-

"BANG!" he yelled.

"Gotcha," said Pierce as he set the weapon down below the recording's edge. He smiled the knowing smile of an old man amused with the impetuousness of his younger self. "But what can I say? I always keep my promises. The only thing that changes is how I choose to keep them."

"Amazing isn't it?" Pierce suddenly digressed. "The power of choice? No matter how many times a person is offered everything they want at the cost of their conscience, they can always choose to turn away from it. And even if they cross the line, they can still turn around and walk right back over to the other side."

"I feel like I made a choice that day at Arcan IV. I could've left myself in that day, festering and angry at you and swearing bloody vengence at everyone in the Republic you cared for. But instead I moved on. If you boil it all down, Arcan IV was just a fight between two people who disagreed with each other on how to handle a bad situation and you won."

"But that fight forced me to choose, and I chose to move on and keep doing the right thing wherever that path led me. And because I want to acknowledge that in some way I'm calling off the hunt on the Lost Jedi. Pulled a few strings, called in a favor, and you and your family are off the hook. Of course, if you keep doing what you're doing and someone gets wind of it, no amount of favors is going to keep you from the Republic's bad side."

Pierce held up a hand. "I'm not asking you to stop. I can't force you to do anything and I know that. But I hope that you'll choose to just lie low."

"Anyway, I hope this message finds you well. I have no idea when it will find you since you've all but disappeared off the sensor screens, so if it turns out to be incredibly old and irrelevant, oh well. Say my hellos to the family, and that daughter of yours. If I know anything about her, she's probably as fiery and impetuous as her old man. And if you get the urge, stop by Arcan IV. It's become a whole different place since the Jedi came. Tondry out."


######

Steam rose slightly off the pile of wrecked girders and shattered glass. Even days old as the bombed hotel was, the ruins still held some heat to them.

Finally Pierce got tired of the scenery and turned away. "No leads at all on who did this?" he asked.

"We're completely in the dark, sir," the local police chief told him. "No one has claimed responsibility, and to the best of our knowledge, sneaking a bomb past security and into the basement was impossible."

Pierce rubbed his forehead, thinking about politics. "Is this an official request for aid, then?" he asked.

"Yes and no. We'd definitely accept your help, but there's been some disagreement in the upper levels as to whether Republic help is needed on this-" the chief trailed off.

"Or at all, for that matter," Pierce sighed. "Is it true there's talk of ousting Senator Evenstar and seceeding completely from the Republic?"

"I'm afraid so," the chief gestured helplessly. "Too many people have fallen on hard times to think the Republic is any benefit. And don't get them started on the Jedi."

Unfortunately, Pierce knew what he meant. For a time the Jedi Order had been seated on Arcan IV. The Jedi presence hadn't just a deterrent to crime as one might first think- the Order had also employed citizens to help in their tasks and provided examples of good conduct. Jedi always inspired as much as they protected, but Arcan IV had been a planet completely lacking in positive guidance and so the Jedi had impacted them in a deeper and more meaningful way than usual.

When the Order moved to Coruscant, the jobs, the influence, the protection, the day-to-day interaction with common folk all went with it. The Jedi were back at covering the entire galaxy. Unfortunately that meant individual planets like Arcan IV fell through the cracks in the system. The organized crime syndicate that the Republic had torn apart to establish itself had been replaced by dozens of criminal factions seeking to fill the vacuum. It was almost as though the Order had never come in the first place.

From the looks of things, the situation was so bad the populace almost resented the Jedi for leaving so much that they would spit in the Order's face just to spite it. That made cooperation with the locals on cases of mutual interest difficult.

"Well, if someone back on Coruscant puts in a request I can have a team here in a day," Pierce said. "But until then, I'm just an impartial observer and I can't interfere."

Disappointment showed plainly on the police chief's face. "Thank you for coming anyway, sir," he said stiffly. "I'll have my men escort you out of the perimeter."

Two uniformed men followed Pierce back across the tape-marked boundary of the police zone, then returned to their duties. Pierce watched them go, then let his eyes drift back to the wreckage.

Arcan IV was a whole different place since the Jedi had left.

[Marcus Telcontar]

He placed the datapad down, after what was probably the third viewing. It still didnt make sense to him - some sort of warning? A hidden message? Bragging rights that he had found a way to even get a message to him?

Of course, him knowing he even had a daughter was logical. Tondry knew the relationship between him and a certain Senator. If anyone knew whom the father of Evenstar's baby was, it would be him. And thinking of that same baby.....

The place was a disaster. The upstairs rooms that were the headquarters of The Lost were no longer pin neat and grim. The equipment was still there, but strewn about the place was bags, clothes, cots, toys and children. How in the Galaxy what was a group of vigilante Jedi seeking justice turned into a daycare centre would make for a good book one day. How a Jedi Master, proud, powerful and terrible to face had become a house bound father would make a great comedy script. How a Lightsabre that cut a swathe through enemies and was almost as feared as the being who weld it could be no more than a orniment on a wall was testiment to what Tondry said. Choices. Choices defined whom we were. The future.

Choices destroyed Xazor. She could have been something, but she spent her last days turning herself into a sick parody of what Marcus stood for. She never understood and now Marcus saw that clearly. Even if she had been adopted into the family, Marcus felt no sadness at her death. Only annoyance and frustration of a needless and stupid loss - a waste of time on his behalf. Maybe she could have been the daughter Tondry referred to, but somehow, he suspected it wasn't so. That youg lady was presently staring at the hanging mobile above her crib, bright blue eyes starign intently. Three months old and already quite clearly like her mother. In fact, holo pictures of Helenais about the same time were frightingly similar. Via some genetic fluke, Arwenai was Sindar with very few traces of Numenorian. And that, he considered, leaning over the cot to watch his young princess, was not a bad thing. He was very much hoping she was unlike her old man as you could get.

And now, if he thought about it, it was choice that made Marcus Telcontar, one time Jedi Master, One time Republic warlord, One time hero of the revolution and all that nonsense had chosen to turn his back on the wars and the battles. He had finally found peace with himself. He had finally found something much more worth pursuing than the scum of the Galaxy. It had been almost too late before he found it, but when he did, he had grasped the unexpected blessing with both hands. Arcan IV changed his life five years ago. The night that Awrenai was born had smashed that path to pieces.

If Tondry had been warning him to stop his activities, it was too late. He had stopped. Marcus Telcontar had his princess to look after and damn it, he was enjoying every single minute of it.

Even the other kids in this place, at present charging around at a billion parsecs and hour, involved in some sort of game. Jina Jade, his other charge and the Kincaid kids. And shortly, Quay Na-Rakai, his Padawan, would give birth. Oh and not to mention Natia, whom somehow had managed to become part fo the family too. She just happened to be on the other side of the room studying.

How the Jedi Masters whom he had known would laugh. Marcus had been turned into somethign no one would have expected.

"And I love every bit of it" he said out aloud, in a way answering Tondry.

--

The reason why the place looked like a bomb hit it was that he was packing. He was taking Jina and Arwenai to the castle on Triltih for a week - Arwenai because Helenias couldnt possibly look after her what with her senate work and being a Jedi proper, Jina because .... well because Jina was now 8 and was training to be a Jedi too. Marcus wanted to give her some training on the far away planet. River kincaid and Natia could look after things while he was gone.

And to be honest, Marcus never considered the last part of Tondry's message. Arcan IV just didnt register in his thoughts these days - and even if it did, he would only note it was a good place to adjust course to Trilith. He hadn't been there in a long time and he had no intention of going back. What happened there int he past had nothing to do with his future.

"I'm not like Helenais" he had once said. "I cant see the future as other Jedi can". If he could, maybe the note about arcan would have stirred his interest. But frankly, right now he was more interested in finding Jina's favorite jumpsuit.

[Dan the Man]

Dan paused, with a look of benign irritation on his face. He made a dismissive gesture by lightly waving a hand.

"By all means. I'll take my nightcap to the balcony. Mi casa, Su casa, or whatever."

Pouring tequila into a tiny glass, he corked the bottle and returned it to its shelf, removing himself and his drink from earshot of whatever business Arya had.

[Arya Ravenwing]

She turned her back on Dan, then thought better of it and faced the balcony as she answered the comm. "Ravenwing."

"Mistress Arya, there is a -"

"Threepio?" Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "I told you not to call when I'm on business unless it's important."

" -unless it's important, yes I know Mistress Arya, but it is important. You have a waiting call from Turbogee -"

"What?!" Her voice rose, but she quickly toned it down. "Turbogeek called?"

"Ah, yes. He's waiting to -"

"Well, patch him through."

" - be patched through. Yes, certainly Mistress Arya. Just a moment." Threepio's voice disappeared and was replaced by blank air as he transmitted the waiting call to her personal commline.

After all these years... Turbogeek just up and calls? The timing was just a bit off. She still thought about her 'protoge' every so often, but lately her plate was a bit full on her own without thinking about what other people were up to. The crackle on the line suggested the patch was done, and she eyed the comm in her hand a bit warily. "This is Arya..."

[Darth Turbogeek]

After getting the rusted scrap pile into gear, he say back, a small smile on his face. Now, why had he not called Arya in such a long time? What would she look like? What was she up to? Hadn't he been interested enough in the welfare for a former lover that he would at least try to keep contact?

Well...... maybe. Turbogeek wasnt the sentimental type. And anyway, he was Dr Anasta, well respected medical man. The past jumping around the Galaxy in beaten up ships, being an offsider to a smuggler were gone. Oh hey, they were good times, but he had moved on.

He waited quietly until her voice broke the silence.

"This is Arya..."

What could he hear in her voice? Doubt? Uncertainty, curiousity? Whe sounded a bit weary, he thought. "Hey there, Miss Ravenwing. Dr Turbogeek calling, if your rust pile didnt tell ya. I know you dont like crap, so I'll cut to the chase. I got some urgent supplies that needs shipping from Coruscant, totally legal but I need them at Arcan IV real quick. And I'll pay for the speed, cause every hour counts for this. My usual agents are booked out. 500G, paid on delivery and bonus for beating deadlines. You want the job?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

The voice was familiar, yet a little different... older perhaps. And instead of being slow and methodical, he sounded more like a used speeder salesman. "Woah, slow down there Turb." There was a pause, and she shook her head in amusement.

"Do I want the job? Sure I do, but I'm not sure that my current employer..." She cut a glance over to where Dan was leaning on his elbow on the balcony. "Well, I'm real tied up at the moment with a job."

Turbogeek started to protest at that breakneck speed of his, but she interrupted him, "But I can probably fit that in. You want speed, you came to the right place. Any other details I need?"

[Dan the Man]

As Arya spoke, Dan enjoyed the solace of his balcony, taking a sip of his tequila as the droning and constant sound of speeder traffic played a melody on the skyline. Of course, for a man of his talents, it was never that simple, was it? Out of earshot, the gunslinger wasn't necessarily out of touch. He continued to enjoy his drink, as Arya continued to speak to her gentleman caller.

[Marcus Telcontar]

"No, apart from you need to be at docking bay 94, 24 - 48 hours. My handlers will be there ready to load. The shipment is high value medical". His tome and manner switched to strictly business. "Delivery to Hangar AA23. You will be precleared if you send your transponder code to me before arrival. You better hustle lady, if you want the performance bonus - I very much doubt your present employer can match what I have to offer.... Dr Geek, out"

He cut the trasmission abrupty, leaned back in his chair and stared at the other wall. Employer? He ran through his memory to think .... ah yes. She had been employed a long time ago to keep that red haired girl safe. What was her name.... Jina! Ahhhhh..... yes. Now he remembered. Paid her quite well too, if the recollection did not fail him. And thinking of paying...

"Get me Josweel" he said, flicking his personal comm on. A muted acknowledgement, then a pause - broken in the end by a gruff voice.

"Yeah, wadda want Dr?"

"Josweel, the shipment from Coruscant has found a deliverer. a Arya Ravenwing. Flies a Chevette 57, Wing of the Raven if I recall correctly. Tell our people on Coruscant to expect her and also begin process to expedite shipment. It's the one we really needed someone for"

Josweel paused. "Really Dr? Can he be trusted?"

"He's a she and dont let appearences decieve you. She's as tough as they come. Treat her with all due respec"

--

Meanwhile in Dexter's diner, the other side of the Galaxy.....

"OUCH!! MARCUS! JINA HIT ME!!"

"DID NOT!"

"DID TOO!"

Marcus was looking harried and was running out of even the patience of a Jedi. The last bit of packing was almost done - which meant that everyone was tripping over each other in their hurry. He had hit his toe on a bag already, Arwenai was upset and whinging, Hunter and Jina were getting on like Nitro and Glycerene...

SLAP!

"MAAARRCCCCUUUUSSSSS!!!"

Right, that was it. He stormed out of his room, his eyes reflecting the fire of his temper. It had been a very long time since anyone had been on the recieving end of a verbal blast - the kids that ran around this place thought of him as smoe sort of benelovent and kindly older man. Hence, they froze in place as the pipe smoking human became a Jedi Master breathing verbal fire. Both Hunter and Jina cringed as he let loose with the barrage.

".... And The Force help both of you if you dont behave. Hunter, I dont want to see you near Jina. Jina, your to be packed before I see you again. Now MOVE IT!"

Both children scattered. No one would want to defy him right now. It was clearly a Bad Idea. Hestared at their retreating backs, before going back into his room, fuming.

"And here I was thinking fatherhood had mellowed you. I am glad to see I was wrong"

He checked himself, realising that there was someone else in his room. Next, he saw Arwenai was enclosed in the arms of the being and had fallen quiet. There was no need to wonder whom it was, only one being could quiet the baby that fast. His temper broke apart , face breaking into a smile. "Why my Lady, you know my temper was legendary. How could I change something that is part of me?"

Lady Helenias Evenstar, Senator of Arcan IV and Jedi Knight stepped forward, her own face in a soft smile. "That, is a question many would ask. I was hoping to catch you before you left"

"Oh? What for?"

"I'm coming as well"

Whatever Marcus was expecting, this was not it. "But.... senate work...?"

"Can wait. I need to come"

"Why?" He asked puzzled.

Helenias paused, looking troubled. "I dont know. But I must"

He frowned, for he had seen the cases she had bought in here. He knew them quite well.

"Allright" He said, sudeenly all business. "The ship is ready to go. Take Arwenai and meet me there,,, This sint a sudden desire to spend time together, is it?"

"Oh Marcus, I wish it was"

Crap "You foresee trouble on Trilith?"

"I foresee trouble somewhere and I need to be with you. That is all I know"

[Arya Ravenwing]

Docking bay 94, deliver to hangar AA23. Arya mentally filed away the information until she could safely write it down. "Ah, right, bye." She clicked her comm off and slipped it into her jacket.

The smuggler looked over at where Dan was idling on the balcony, and started going over in her mind how she was going to excuse herself for a few days.