A Winning Pair

[Sanis Prent]

Silver Peaks Casino - Nintaca City, Gyndine

They looked like ants from up here. Dark specks moving in a singular path against stark white. A neverending trail once you got a good enough vantage. The Alps of Gyndine were getting a lot of action. They'd always been regionally popular, but with a little push, a little cash, and a lot of marketing, they swarmed. Hundreds of people on just one particular slope, getting a chance to careen down perfect powder overlooking a city in peacetime boom.

"Mr. Prent?"

I turned from the window to face the man. I didn't know his name, but that didn't matter here. The fact that he was in the penthouse level made it clear he was a part of the machine. The real machine that gilded the gondolas here.

"We're ready, sir."

Beyond the imported Christophsis tile. Beyond the artwork on the walls. That's why I was here. A nondescript door that led to a bottleneck to a vaulted one. Beyond that, a yawning grey room. Far from empty, however. Crates lined industrial shelving in tidy, painfully-organized sections. The lighting above was cool and even, lacking the ambient warmth of the sconces and fixtures of the false vista around the window. The nameless man I'd met outside joined up with a nameless man on the inside, and we all took a long walk down the center aisle of the clandestine warehouse. At the end of our journey rested two crates, already pulled and arranged on hoversleds.

"They're here."

I removed my sunglasses, sliding them into an inner breast pocket of my jacket.

"Show me."

The two nameless moved to each side, each one manning a crate. In unison, the composite shells hissed, releasing their hermetic locks as pneumatic struts eased them open soundlessly the rest of the way. From where I stood, I got a good view of each. Eye opening.

"Close them up."

"Yes sir.

And just like that, the crates were sealed again, as if keeping the galaxy privy a moment longer might be dangerous.

"These leave tonight. Separate ships."

The nameless didn't protest. They knew exactly the stakes here.

"We're done here."

I had appearances to keep up with. If everything went as it should, I wouldn't have to break character.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was a routine stop. A stop that had been made more than just this once. She was aware of the procedures and the protocols to follow, and so was Dage. On the bridge of the Khera'va'ss'io, Captain Lok s'Ilancy rested comfortably enough in her chair. Just like the rest of her ship, it had harsh, no-nonsense lines, yet still comfortable all the same. A far cry from the very organic nature of the normal Mon Calamari designs, it took a small amount of getting used to for some of those posted aboard, but acclimation didn't take too awful long. It helped that the crew was not a large one, as well. KHER was more or less self-sustaining in most aspects of the daily duties of making sure a ship ran, but there were of course limitations.

Not a lot happened on her ship that she didn't know about; whether it was from being told her by KHER, or her first officer, s'Il knew.

They had cracked out of hyperspace above Gyndine, establishing a stationary orbit after a short communication with the port authorities. A comm was sent to the Alliance noting their arrival time, and now Dage was moving away from the pilot's chair with a pat on the shoulder to the Farghul navigator. He carried a datapad as he traversed the short distance to his captain, handing it to her.

"The usual."

"Thank you."

She took the pad, looking over its' content for a moment before pressing her thumb to the print recognition box. She gave it back to Dage while rising to her feet. As he always did, KHER remained directly behind her chair, watching over the normal bridge operations with a bit of a detached air. Turning to the droid, s'Il gestured slightly.

"Inform Mister Omri that he may begin his diagnostics."

I will.

The captain turned back to Dage.

"A routine stopover. You and I will go planetside to finalize the delivery of provisions."

Dage finally grinned.

"Yes Ma'am"

[Sanis Prent]

My real business was done. All that remained was to lay back in the cut and make sure everything else clicked. I took the private lift down to the casino decks, letting the ornate doors part soundlessly. Beyond was a rich sight of glossy wood grain and silver accents. A sea of blinking lights from hundreds of gambling machines cascaded off the high gloss, creating a jungle of electronic flora. My sunglasses went back on, and I trolled the pits.

The only trouble with working for the mob was that they owned the casino. Or at least the trouble lay in that when the house paid your bills, playing the house was meaningless. It wasn't real trouble. House odds were nothing to sneeze at, and only a matter of inevitability really. It just meant you didn't play the house anymore. You didn't spend sleepless nights as a thrall in the neon jungle, caught up in the spell. You flew above the canopy like some dapper bird of prey. Didn't even have to swoop in for the kill. The law of averages made for no shortage of carrion. Still, there's a love of the game. I missed sabacc. Playing pickup games in a back room was about all I could get, and the type of people I played with didn't foot serious money anyways.

Elevated from the pit on a raised platform, the bar was accessible by an array of eight flights of stairs, radiating from it's lofty vantage like spokes on a gear. I headed up the nearest flight, giving the bartender a nod. That brings me to the good part of being in the mob that's in the casino business. The barkeep knows your flavor, and it's gratis. Corellian Korval single barrel. Upscale but not ridiculous. No bitters, no garnish. Three fingers of liquor over two cubes of ice. Every time.

I didn't sit down, opting to lean my back against the bar and look below. Of course, I could've gone to the level above to catch the detailed view from the 2,800 cameras positioned just about everywhere save for the inside of a toilet. A little dark room full of serious-faced guys with short sleeved shirts and ties, perpetual hawks on the look out for card counters and cheats. I wasn't here for the micromanagement. I was more interested in the who. As in, who is playing, who is hot right now, and who isn't. Networking is a helluva drug.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The trip down the Gyndine's surface was relatively short, and was spent going over the next week's schedule. They would be back in the hyperlanes by tomorrow morning, their route already planned and agreed upon. While Khera'Va'ss'io was his own entity in a way, he was still a part of the Alliance fleet. He was still beholden to the Cause, as were they all. It was something that most if not everyone that joined with the Alliance believed in, and so much moreso for those that had been in since the beginning. KHER was a ship apart that had been fit neatly into the greater whole. He moved where others could not, and while he was attached to the First Fleet, he was more versatile than most; there was no need for a task force gathered around him. There was no need for companion ships. He moved freely, and his crew performed their duties with diligence and precision.

The shuttle touched down on one of the many tarmacs that littered one side of the Alliance base, settling gently down. Both officers stood, still discussing the ins and outs of what their intended route would entail. It was - again - all very procedural. It was work, it kept the mind occupied. It kept her thoughts from wandering. Kept them from being pulled back to Ossus; back to her children.

"Captain?"

s'Il waved away his concern as she refocused on the task at hand.

"I'm fine, Dage. Just -"

[Q. Samus Dage]

Dage made a face. He knew the woman he traveled with well enough.

The shuttle's pilot was still in the cockpit going through his own shutdown checklist, and for the moment they were both alone and out of earshot from anyone else.

"Oh come off it, woman," he spoke low out of habit.

"I know that look."

And indeed he did. He'd worn it himself for so long after Ossus. He retreated into a daze of torn memories and a history that'd been nothing but a lie. Except... it wasn't. And that was the most frustrating thing about all of this. His normal carefree demeanor had shifted to something a bit more weary. Not always, but it cropped up at times.

He clapped a hand to her shoulder, his head angled so that their eyes met.

"Let's get this over with, spend some time down here, and pretend it's old times..."

He smiled, straightened back up, and gave her a salute.

"If the Captain so wishes, that is."

[Sanis Prent]

Horsk Du'Frey was up eighty large at the sabacc table. I'd been watching him game some Devaronian hotshot for half an hour, forcing the horn-headed alien to spell a few hands to re-buy. Not smart. The Bothan wasn't coasting that high on luck, he had his number.

"Kyle, comp sabacc 37 a round."

The barkeep didn't miss a beat behind my shoulder.

"You got it."

It might keep the Devaronian playing, and might really put the Bothan in a position to have a chat later on. It wasn't nearly quid pro quo, but Du'Frey dealt in information. It was handy to know when information went on sale. I cut Kyle loose to work on the free drinks when another member of staff approached.

"You asked me to keep you updated on any new guests, sir?"

I nodded as I sipped my drink.

"There's an Alliance warship that's put into orbit."

That wasn't a crime. I shrugged, crunching some ice.

"Then roll out the Service discount and get those navy boys gambling."

It was, after all, Alliance space. I'd rather not have that hanging over my head at present, but seeing an Alliance ship strike colors while I had things on my own docket was merely an annoyance. The staff man nodded and moved to walk away, and I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Do me a favor though, keep your ears on. What they're doing and all that. And if any senior staff do make it through the doors, comp them some champagne and show tickets. Wouldn't want it to seem like we don't support the troops."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

They had taken, all told, a relatively short amount of time to check in with the commander of the Nintaca Naval Station. Which was still a rather long affair. Commander Kresli, a stocky Corellian with closely cropped hair, seemed genial enough as he'd taken the requisite datapads from her. He made little small-talk as he read, most of his words being formed together into questions regarding what their long range sensors had picked up during their times in subspace along the border. All had been quiet, yet she had still logged every minute detail no matter how mundane. Nothing had been out of the ordinary, and her reports showed as much. It didn't stop him from asking questions, and it was his duty to do so anyway. As far as the usual amount of time these reports took, it was relatively short and mercifully painless. Of course, it helped that they had not encountered anything of note.

Stepping back out into the sunshine, Dage looked up to a clear sky, and s'Il busied herself with finishing the contents of a datapad. Not necessarily new orders, but rather a listing of the supplies that they would need to restock.

Sighing as they moved toward a nondescript speeder, s'Il switched the pad off in mild annoyance.

"How is it that we seem to need new calibration drivers at every stop?"

Dage opened the back door for her, giving a shrug.

"You should ask KHER that."

The Lupine ducked through the door and lowered herself easily into her seat while giving yet another sigh and a shake of her head. Dage only laughed, and closing the door, he moved around the back of their transport to file in on the other side, next to her. He leaned forward before s'Il could give the order to return to their shuttle, and gave the driver a good-natured pat to the shoulder.

"Silver Peaks Casino, please."

s'Il blinked at that, and turned a look to her executive officer.

"Excuse me?"

Leaning back once more, the blonde met her gaze without an ounce of worry.

"You need to spend some time away from the ship. KHER and the others will still be up there when we get back, and they know how to keep that old crane in orbit. It'll not fall out of the sky if you take a bit of a breather."

A frown, and she leaned back in her own seat, brow furrowing deeply. Finally she looked away as the speeder lifted away, gaining altitude.

"Very well."






* * *


There were no expectations to be had on her part; in fact, she couldn't remember the last time she was inside such an establishment as the Silver Peaks. Not so much impressed as she was somewhat annoyed, s'Il had resigned herself to following Dage as he held open one of a pair of gilded double doors. There was a doorman... well, a series of them actually, and each one only gave the two Alliance officers a respectful nod before going about their duties of helping guests from speeders and checking luggage that looked more expensive than half a year's salary.

The scents that assailed her the moment she stepped across the crystal-topped marble threshold almost made her turn back. Her eyes clamped shut as her head angled to the side. But Dage was insistent, and prodded her along.

Past the elegantly carved ghou'anti wood service desks and their sharply dressed attendant; down a shallow flight of stairs that spilled them into an open room littered with tables as impressive as everything else they had passed by thus far. Tables nearly all full of men and women - each one gambling with a sum of credits that she was sure would make her head spin. The deeper in they went, the more she couldn't help but be impressed by this establishment. It was beautiful, she had to admit. It wasn't long before her initial overwhelmed disgust shifted to a quiet observation of the decor and architecture.

Her hands moved to the small of her back, fingers lacing together. She felt rather out of place; with her hair pulled tightly back in a single braid, and her uniform buttoned up to the top clasp. While not tall, she still cut a severe and orderly figure as she strode smoothly alongside Dage. He himself was dressed much the same, the only difference (aside from the obvious) being their rank plates.

Dage seemed to spot something that she couldn't quite see yet, and he gave her a crafty, sideways grin.

"You thirssty?"

Quentin," came the warning.

Her XO winced only slightly at the cautionary usage of his first name. He'd always hated it. Her initial, small warning was brushed away however.

"It'll be good for you; besides, we're not on duty."

[Sanis Prent]

Du'Frey wasn't abating in his cleanup rout at the sabacc table, so I took a spell to walk to the opposite side of the floor. I paused by the chance cubes, pulling out my comm.

"Mike."

Hopefully the kid had his head screwed on. I'd gotten stuck with Michael Cline by virtue of Sasseeri, and he'd managed to not go and get himself killed, so he'd at least been competent enough to call on a few times. I needed a guy like him around this place. It was an insurance policy.

"I'm sending you the location of the first drop. I need you to keep a fresh set of eyes on it for me."

When we moved the packages, I didn't want to roll fifty deep to make sure they were airtight. This was the sort of thing where the less attention you attracted, the better you were. Cline was muscle that didn't look like it, and he was good at keeping a low profile as long as he didn't have a flight of fancy.

"If you smell anything that's off, let me know."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a strangely-familiar cut of blonde hair and Alliance uniform. She had her back to me, walking along with another officer from the looks of it. Of course, it could've been someone else from behind...

"Prent out."

And then she turned. We were a good fifty feet away, through a crush of gamblers and tables and noise. Another ghost of the past made flesh.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She had sent a look to the side, not expecting the sudden influx of cheering as a lucky winner received a round of applause from a gaggle of onlookers. They gave the man smiles and handshakes, then turned their eyes to the enclosed table once more as he grabbed at the chance cubes for another round. She pursed her lips, made a face, and turned back forward. One hand went up to rest on the bartop as she and Dage stopped at their apparent destination. The tender only gave the two a curt nod.

"Sir. Ma'am."

Dage nodded, smiling a nexxu's smile.

"I'll have a-"

The tender held up a hand to cut him short, and s'Il cocked her head in curiosity as Dage snapped his jaw shut. The confusion replacing his once jovial expression made the Lupine grin just a little bit.

"Sorry Sir, already got your drink."

Both of her eyebrows rose.

"Oh?"

"Yes Ma'am."

The barkeep sidestepped to a small, upright cooler unit and opened the door to pull out a bottle of very obviously expensive champagne. His free hand deftly pulled down two crystal flutes, setting each one in front of the Alliance officers. Another moment later, and the cork was popped without ceremony. The bubbly liquid was then poured in each glass.

"On the house."

Certainly not what she was expecting. Dage took it much more in stride though, and lifting one of the flutes, he gave a salute to the man before taking a first sip.

"Very kind of you."

She was slow to take her own drink, and merely pulled the glass closer.

"Not my call, Ma'am."

The man nodded over shoulder to someone else, his eyes making a path through the crowd to an individual behind her.

"Was his."

Turning, she followed his line of sight. Despite the distance, despite the bodies all around, there was no mistaking him. She stood rooted, her drink instantly forgotten.

For the first time in a very long while, Lok s'Ilancy was speechless. Utterly and completely speechless.

[Sanis Prent]

I closed the distance, carrying my scotch along as a passenger. The casino floor seemed to get a whole lot smaller in the presence of distinguished good company. A glance down at her Captain bars. Last I remembered, she'd been a little higher on the pecking order. I imagined that had something to do with Ossus. A ship as big as Dauntless going down makes waves you can feel on Bespin.

Finally face to face, I removed my sunglasses. Never thought she aged more than a day back in the old times. Now she looked a bit older.

"Welcome to Gyndine, Captain s'Ilancy."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Gods," was all she could get out, and even then it was a bare whisper. An almost breathless attempt to take in the sight before her.

He looked...

Well, he looked much healthier, she could certainly see that much. Dage turned around to lean against the bar, flute in hand, to get a look at their mysterious benefactor.

A strange sense of relief washed over her then. Relief and joy at the sight of him. The Lupine folded her hands before her and gave a slight bow of her head. Still unsure of what to say, she felt herself fall back into the old habits.

"You look well."

[Sanis Prent]

I pursed my lips nonchalantly, twirling the contents of my tumbler slightly.

"First time working a job with health insurance will do that, I guess."

She seemed surprised to see me. Either Jedi senses were getting dull or I was getting sneakier. Or she had a whole lot on her mind.

"I heard about...well."

Bit down and swallowed what I was going to say. Didn't need to be said. General Dan Thrule was a piece of shit and I'd hated him from day one. Didn't mean I wanted to bring up the dead.

"Glad to see you're still here."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"So am I."

What Sanis hadn't had to say was something that she wished to not speak of. And certainly not here, at any rate.

Dage gave a very obvious yet small cough, and she blnked as if remembering herself. A half-lifted hand was given to her XO.

"This is my Executive Officer, Samus Dage. Samus," her hand went toward Sanis, "this is Sanis Prent."

[Q. Samus Dage]

Dage gave the man an easy look-over, nodded, then held out an offered hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Prent."

He smiled.

[Sanis Prent]

I met Dage's hand, giving two polite pumps. Stealing a glance to Lok, I winked.

"Ah, the protegé. Hopefully not as rebellious as one or two you've had before."

My hand parted, running down the line of my jacket slightly, an unconscious tidying act.

"I'm Regional Vice President for Reeouurra Incorporated, the holding company for Silver Peaks. I hope you both like what you see, she's our newest startup and the best entertainment venue this side of Zeltros."

[Q. Samus Dage]

He laughed.

"I don't think I'm 'special talent' material. More old hand, really. Been about long enough to start missing the old days."

He wasn't so blind though, to see the unspoken words. He knew his captain well enough. Giving her a gently pat to her shoulder, the blonde politely excused himself with a few parting words before wandering off to amuse himself with the goings on around them.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Left more or less alone, s'Il watched as Dage meandered off to occupy himself. Her gaze was very soon back to Sanis though, and she gingerly smiled as she finally remembered the champagne flute still sitting atop the bar. Twisting about to pick it up, she turned back.

"Business life seems to suit you."

She took a small sip.

"Not what I expected, though," she finished after swallowing. A moment of thought later, and she pursed her lips. Her expression didn't entirely turn sour, but it held concern all the same.

"After Gelthia, there was nothing I could do. I tried, but... "

[Sanis Prent]

"Yeah, well."

My lips pressed thin into a conflicted expression. Gelthia had been horrible. The lowest point I'd been in my life including time spent on Nar Shaddaa. I gave a small dismissing gesture.

"I think it probably sorted itself the best way possible for everyone involved. Honestly, the weeks leading up to Coruscant, I kinda had one of those feelings. Like if I stayed on the ride either the ride was getting sorted out or I was. We both knew where things were headed, right?"

I raised my glass in a sort of toast.

"Peace."

Sipping the scotch, I glanced around our current glittering environment.

"It's not a bad place to be. Just have to adapt to the environment. Better I found that out on Gelthia than wait. I don't wager there are many Sanis Prents left in this man's Alliance."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Without a word she nodded. And even though he raised his own glass, she found herself unable to reciprocate.

Instead, she changed the subject; away from the Alliance and the path that that discussion might lead down. Instead, she finally gave him a smile, and a sip of her drink.

"It is certainly nice here," she agreed, eye taking a moment to roam about. So many finely dressed men and women with their tailored clothing and elegance. It didn't necessarily invoke wistfulness or longing, but it did impress her.

Just as much as the sight of Sanis Prent standing before her. She knew that it would be out of form to fuss over him as she had so many years ago, but her smile remained, and she couldn't help but step forward a small bit to close the distance between them. Her free hand came up, slender fingers running over the lapel of his crisp, white blazer before fanning out to move over the fabric.

"You've adapted very well," there was an honest tone of pride in her voice, and before she pulled her hand away, the Lupine gave him a final pat to his chest.

"I'm happy for you."

[Sanis Prent]

Adapted was a good word. Transitioning from one set of problems to another. I didn't care to go into the cost it had taken to go from Gelthia to Bespin. Mortgaged to the hilt under Sasseeri Reeouurra's thumb. Cost of making it big. Adjusting the goalposts meant at some point getting into the black, and that wasn't happening any time soon. The game I played was still dangerous, it was just different scenery.

"It's still the same hustle, Lok. Just a different venue."

Surely she knew I was still bent. We kept no secrets.

"The trick is remembering who your friends are, after all."

Gambling wasn't the Jedi Master's scene. I remembered her eye-rolling every time I went to lose my week's pay on games of chance. Still, I was if nothing else an accomodating host.

"I'm guessing galactic peace hasn't improved the quality of naval rations. I was just about to catch dinner and a show. I can't think of better company to have anywhere else in this sector."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Hustle or no, you're a shade more filled out than the last I saw you. And for that at least I am thankful."

Both knew her distaste for gambling, and both knew his inexplicable draw to it. Each were past making a verbal fuss over the issue, as each had moved past and accepted it. There was really no need to bring up old grumblings, despite it shifting and evolving into what it was today. For her, he was alive. He was healthy. He was rather successful. And for that she was happy.

She took another small sip of the champagne, not quite used to the airy bubbles that washed over her tongue and down her throat.

"So then. Dinner and a holo?"

An old recipe from time immemorial.

Pursing her lips as she gave the flute a last look, s'Il half-turned to set it on the bartop before facing him again.

She nodded after a half-second of thought.

"I would love that."

[Michael Cline]

He parked the black speeder in the visitor's section and stretched once, feeling the tension and sharp relief of a vertebrae popping as he did. He'd been expecting a call from Prent today, but still the man's timing was stunning. Right as he had stepped out of the sonic shower his comm had gone off. He'd had to rush across his apartment to grab it, followed by a mad dash into a clean suit, and grabbing the company speeder he was currently using to rush to the space port.

It was a simple enough task at least. Make sure Package A gets to Point B and that there are no problems. He'd wander a bit ahead of time, try and scope any possible problem areas of the port, blind spots and vantage points that would give someone else an advantage. After that he'd mingle, get a sense of who was hanging around the port today and get a read of the emotion that was lingering. His Force abilities weren't tremendous, but he could get a sense of intent, that was often just enough of an edge when it came to knowing what to expect.

He sent Prent a quick written communication letting him know he'd arrived and had eyes on the port. He'd either wait for the shipment now, or for further instruction from his employer.

[Sanis Prent]

"A holo?"

I paused, making a face.

"Live shows only here. Tonight's Cabaret. A few showtunes, a little leg. The Glee Anselm review is here for a month, so we work 'em nightly to get the punters in and out of here."

My comm buzzed discretely and I paused, glancing at the text just a moment before dismissing the message. Cline was calling the ball, so I felt a little more at ease being me tonight. Leading Lok off the casino floor, we headed down towards the central plaza that fed into a series of radial thoroughfares, one of which would take us to the auditorium.

"It's not a bad arrangement. We can sign talent to half year contracts and move them from resort to resort. I usually keep tabs on things at Cumulus, on Bespin. I'd say visit, but..."

A small shrug.

"...guess that's politics."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

As he led her along, habit kicked in and she folded her hands behind her back, walking beside him at a leisurely pace. His momentary shift of attention to his comm was in some ways unexpected, and she cast her gaze down to allow him at least a small amount of privacy.

His mention of Bespin caused a wry smile to pull back the corners of her lips, and she let out a soft laugh while looking to the side and partially observing the scenery.

"It would be tricky, yes."

Breathing in deeply, she took in the rich scents all around them; perfumes mingled with faint traces of cigar smoke, and the ever present air sanitizers that kept things smelling as fresh and fragrant as possible. It was a bit of a heady aroma, so much mixing together, but it wasn't anything that she couldn't stand.

"As for rations, my ship is blessed enough to have a relatively small enough crew that we aren't quite entirely forced to subsist on those horrid instant meals. We enjoy mostly fresh fare, and a decent variety stocked after every few stops."

[Sanis Prent]

"Mhmm."

Nodding with slightly pursed lips, I gave a glance to the maitre d tending to the private tables lining the back of the auditorium. Already arranged. All they needed was a second place setting.

"Well be that as it may, I'll make you hate those offerings when you're back on your ship. The casino's chef is a four star from Orto, and I doubt even the Empress eats this well up in her little ivory tower."

We took our seats, and water was quickly tended to while we settled to the wine list. The 200 year old Dantooine sauternes would be wasted on my old friend, so I opted for a claret from Cato Neimoidia instead.

"How's the kid?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Settling into her seat, she looked out over the expanse of the auditorium. It was cavernous, yet cozy and warm all the same.

"She's... "

A bit of thought. s'Il leaned back and turned her gaze away from the expanse before them so that she could look at him.

"She is adjusting." such a hollow word to describe it.

"She lives on Ossus now, with her brother."

[Sanis Prent]

"Her what?"

I adjusted in my seat, sitting a little straighter. This was news to me. Of course, if I had to connect the dots it didn't take much to guess who the loving - and dearly departed - dad was. That was heavy stuff. You couldn't even say the usual stuff like congratulations, it was so loaded.

"You say it like you're not with them."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"My duties often put me away from Ossus."

It was the easiest, and most simple answer to give.

"They are with the Jedi, and it is - in the long run - a much better living situation to be in rather than a warship."

A hand reached out to take hold of her water, and lifting the glass to her lips, she sipped. Yes, this was much preferable to the champagne.

"But, they are safe, and for that I am grateful."

[Sanis Prent]

The waiter arrived with the claret, and presented the label. I nodded and he began to uncork it.

"Why are you doing this, Lok? The war's over."

I wasn't a family man, and probably wasn't built for it. Even then I could see a whole lot of wrong with this. Single parents leaving children behind for a reason or another. That sounded familiar.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She folded her hands into her lap, idly watching the server expertly cut the top foil before flipping it back and twisting in a corkscrew.

"It is... a bit more complicated than that."

Again they were heading down a pathway that she did not wish to discuss. The Lupine opted to change the subject in jarring fashion.

"But all of that is inconsequential. Tell me how," her hand came out to gesture at all around and before them.

"... you came to all of this."

[Sanis Prent]

"Luck, I guess."

More the bad sort than the good, but I didn't want to air dirty laundry.

"And a bit of networking. I'd done some, uh, work for Sasseeri Reeouurra in the past. She ended up looking me up for something more long term."

That was putting it lightly. I swallowed that down with some claret.

"And after Layla went one with the ether, it kind of made me take a hard look at the future and where I stood when the winds changed. It's not ideal, but it's probably the best option available. I'm not Captain Quez. He's obviously made for that sort of thing."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She accepted the offered glass of claret from the waiter with a gracious nod, and brought it to her nose for curiosity's sake. It smelled much better than the champagne, and as she gave a tentative sip, decided that it was much easier to drink as well.

"It is surprising," she admitted after swallowing.

"I'd certainly not expected it, and to be truthful I don't think he did either."

It was strange though, how Sanis chose to refer to Cirr by rank and last name. Perhaps it was a sign? But, a sign of what?

"Cirr has distinguished himself on more than one occasion."

[Sanis Prent]

"I'm sure he has. He never aimed to do anything half measure."

I had no doubt of that, and thinking of my best friend made me deeply wistful.

"He's my arr'uhai. He told me that once, and I laughed him off. You know how he is, wearing his heart on the outside of his shirt. But you know, I think you only realize what that means when it's gone. There aren't many really good people left in this galaxy. He's one of them."

I held my glass up.

"To Captain Quez and the Novgorod, may fortune ever favor the bold."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She nodded in agreement, and lifted her own glass.

"To Captain Quez."

She sipped the claret, and set it back down.

"And you? Where do you see yourself in the years to come?"

[Sanis Prent]

I sipped the toast, my mind a million light years away, wherever the stellar winds were taking him. Lok's words brought me out of lame introspection.

"Well, depending on what kind of return of investment I get here, hopefully lying naked on a pile of money with a conga line of girls feeding me peeled grapes and Alderaanian cognac."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"That's... something of an aspiration, I suppose."

It wasn't shocking, to hear his answer. Her old friend had always had a certain flair for life, and a distinctive style that he'd always strove toward.

"It is a better life goal than some have."

Her hands folded together on the table's surface as she looked down to the spotless, white place setting. She remembered one of the last times that they'd seen each other; as things had tended to for the last part of their times together, they'd been quarreling. About what she could not remember; only that they'd not been on the best of terms. Now, given a rare opportunity, the Lupine intended to make amends.

"I have been a terrible friend," she started.

"The times that you needed me, I was too selfish to extend my hand and offer a return of the kinship that you had given to me for so many years. When I was on Cathar, you did not have to keep visiting; and yet you did."

She pursed her lips, eyes finally turning to him.

"I am sorry."

[Sanis Prent]

"Would you rather I said I'd try my hand at being a Senator?"

A tight little smile appeared behind my glass. It faded a little as Lok started to wax guilty and wallow in her contrition. There were too many people in the galaxy who were long overdue a guilt trip. She was one of the few people in the universe I could count on as a friend. That didn't come with conditions.

"Look."

I set my glass down, clasping hands between each other as they rest on the table.

"I'm no expert on the force, and this is probably bullshit, but you know all the works in mysterious ways things better than me. Who's to say it hasn't had a hand in bringing you here? And even if it isn't, you're still here. That's enough for me."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was relief in her eye, and though he'd not spoken so directly of accepting her apology, what he had said was more than enough. It made her smile; a warm smile.

"Perhaps it was the Force, and perhaps it was simply meant to be."

Leaning back in the plush confines of the semi-circle booth they shared, s'Il let out a long breath that she had inadvertently been holding in. She'd not even realized how worried she'd been until after the moment passed.

"Whatever it was, it is enough for myself as well."

One hand lifted to give him a gentle pat to his arm.

"And as for you becoming a senator..." there was a hint of the old playful needling in her gaze, "... if memory serves me, this is the second time you've mentioned as such."

[Sanis Prent]

I flippantly smirked at her ludicrous insinuation as my comm buzzed. My expression turned into one of slight annoyance as I checked the frequency. The annoyance wore off.

"Damn. Hang on, I gotta take this."

On stage, the Cabaret was beginning its warmups, and I rose from my seat, gesturing to Lok to make herself at home.

"A minute. Two, tops."

I excused myself, taking a few discrete strides away.

"Yeah?"

"We're ready to move, sir."

Stealing a glance back to my old friend, I talked low in the comm.

"Alright, quietly. Let me know when we're prepped."

Killing the line, I opened a new comm to my point man.

"Mike. Heads up. The ball's moving your way."

[Michael Cline]

His comm had rung in time to get into position. "Mike. Heads up. The ball's moving your way."

A bit of wandering earlier had let Cline find the best spot to watch the arrival of Prent's package to the port. One of the upper storerooms in the west terminal had a set of windows that overlooked the shipping and receiving entrance, as well as the main terminal. It was a perfect vantage point to keep his eyes on the movements in the port without being obvious to any other potentially interested parties.

He raised a set of macrobinoculars in time to see a large white transport pull into the port with the marking and symbols of the Silver Peak Casino.

He typed up a message to Prent to keep him appraised of how things were progressing. I have eyes on the delivery.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She sat patiently, not wishing to intrude as Sanis took care of whatever it was that needed taking care of. She watched the Cabaret warm up, but in truth she felt herself distancing herself from the show. Not so much disinterest, rather a simple phasing out. She listened to the sounds around her, scented the clean air. It was a lovely place, and s'Il found herself enjoying the ambiance.

She looked to the side, to Sanis with an eye that showed concern and features that mirrored that concern.

[Sanis Prent]

I knew that look, and I waved it off casually.

"It's fine. Just normal work doldrums."

Sitting back down, I finally glanced at the menu offered. Like any place worth the quality, there were only three options for each course, to a total of five courses. The marrow bone salad with shallot caramel and wild mushroom foam seemed a mix of rustic and pretentious, and I selected that option on the datapad for first course.

"You'd be surprised how little I get shot at these days."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She smiled then.

"Well that's a good thing, then."

It was good to see him in this environment, but there was - all the same - an element of strangeness to it; as though she was still trying to get used to seeing him so smartly dressed and not worryingly thin. Not frustrated or frazzled or yelling or punching a bulkhead. He seemed as though he'd become a new man. The confident swagger and his cheeky smile had stayed, at least. If anything, the Lupine was fairly certain that that swagger had become more pronounced, and that smile had become even more cheeky.

"I must admit to not being used to this... seeing you like this... "

She smiled warmly.

"I'm proud of you."

[Sanis Prent]

I wasn't quite sure how to handle myself around all this buttery praise. I wasn't exactly the sort to try and make people proud to know.

"Proud of me, eh? That's a new one. I'm more used to you having to ask what new flavor of trouble I've gone and gotten myself into. Does that mean I've gone soft?"

Sasseeri's words from months ago tinkled into my brain like poison. You'rre weak. I shut that thought out immediately.

"Maybe I ought to embark on some hair-brained crusade with you again to remind you of all the trouble."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Something flickered past the boundaries of his mind, but before she could grasp it, it was gone. Locked back up behind the doors of his mind. Oh, she could've crashed through with ease, but s'Il held a certain amount of respect for her old friend. There were just some things that you never did, and brain-dipping - to her - was one of those things.

Instead, she gave a soft laugh.

"I've enough trouble to deal with as is."

Her laugh died down, and she looked away to focus on an invisible point in the distance.

"This war; it has become cold. It is much more dangerous than when there was open conflict."

Her brow knit as she went on.

"It is a sleeping monster."

[Sanis Prent]

Profound words. I refilled my claret, not disagreeing with wisdom.

"Maybe it just feels safer when you know all the danger's pointed in front of you."

And it did. There was hardly what I'd call a safe moment on the run in Layla, but I knew who I was with, and I knew who I wasn't. Now, I had it better in almost every way, except that kind of intimate comfort.

"Now we're friends with enemies. Enemies with friends. I've heard about the business on Corellia. Can't help but feel they're the ones that got it all right at times."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She scowled at that, looking away in disapproval.

"Yes well. It is a complicated environment that we've all found ourselves."

Reaching out, the Lupine lifted her glass up to her lips, taking a sip. It was not difficult to divine how she felt about the incident on Corellia.

"The sad fact is that not everyone realizes we're no longer in such a black and white galaxy anymore."

[Michael Cline]

This was going to be an easy job. No problems. He glanced through the macrobinoculars again, watching as the truck pulled into the unloading dock and several Casino employees exited, carrying out a sealed crate. Finish the job, head back to the casino to report and then maybe he could convince Prent to let him tuck into that Alderaanian Reserve he was certain he had.

No problems whatsoever. Take it take it take it take it. A sharp, and sudden burst of intention hit him, and he scanned the surrounding area of the crate. Nothing, the normal foot traffic, corners and shadows, and... no. Not shadows. Dren. DREN. He didn't need this today. He leaped from the storage room window, pushing the force into his limbs for agility and strength. He grabbed hold of a string of lights running down the building as he slid across, jumping onto an awning and immediately running, leaping up to grab onto a roof edge and vaulting himself over, striding across toward the location, seeking to intercept the thieves before they could strike.

"Secure the package, dammit!" He hissed into his comm's open channel at the crew unloading the crate, just as they were overtaken by the would-be criminals.

[Sanis Prent]

"I think everybody by now knows that."

She'd certainly had her taste of shades of grey. Someone that bitten by betrayal and still believing the better of people like me. It made me truly envious at times.

"I just think they wish it wasn't so."

Our food arrived, plated with a light hand and arranged for the eyes. I unfurled my napkin, casually checking my wrist comm for another text update. Nothing so far. No news had to be good news.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She'd not really known what to expect in the way of whatever food would be served, and watching as their first course was set before them, s'Il stared at the artfully arranged culinary display with impressed curiosity. It was certainly a beautiful display, she had to admit.

A look was sent to Sanis, and she gave him a thin smile.

"I would be lying if I said I did not wish the same."

A sigh, as she took of the claret.

"Unfortunately we must all evolve or be left behind."

Her eye caught the movement of the dancers in the distance, and she watched for a few seconds before finishing.

"... This galaxy waits for no one."

[Michael Cline]

Cline ducked behind a storage container as one of the two thieves fired a blaster at him, his instincts and reflexes keeping him from taking a bolt to the chest. The one not laying down suppressing fire against Cline and the other employees who had been moving the crate had come around with a gravsled, quickly loading the crate onto the front, the armed goon had climbed on top of the cargo, firing backwards as they began to pull away. Cline wanted to punch something, break something, tear someone's throat out. Fury and rage built up in him, and he reached out, managing to wrap the Darkside around himself and send a stack of shipping containers tumbling into the path of the escaping pair.

They turned sharply, avoiding the falling crates and ducking the sled down another alley. Cline's eyes narrowed, and he leapt over his makeshift cover giving chase, dodging blaster fire as it was aimed at him. The one who had been shooting stopped, speaking into his lapel instead. He learned quickly, already saving his shots rather than fruitlessly firing on someone who continuously managed to evade. Michael pushed the Force deeper into his muscles, ignoring the complaints his body was sending him as he sped up, matching the speed of the sled so that they were no longer gaining distance on him. Again that same one spoke into his lapel before a transport speeder tore through the narrow pathways and came to rest between Cline and the escaping pair.

He growled, anger sparking furiously at the attempt at holding him back and leapt, fingertips grabbing the roof of the impeding vehicles and vaulting overtop, glancing back in time to see the driver yanked from the truck angrily by the other Black Sun employees. Good. One down. He'd lost valuable footing on the thieves though, and caught sight of them in the distance loading a similar speeder to the one that had interfered with the crate, damn near ramming the grav-sled into it to unload the package quickly.

"The Frell you are!" Cline snapped out, anger flaring as he finally managed to close the distance, no more than 9 or 10 meters ahead of him. He reached out, intent to drag the crate out before they could finish loading it, and found... nothing. He stumbled slightly as his strength ebbed from his legs, muscles crying in agony at the exertion. He tried again, reaching out to manipulate the Force around the vehicles and... nothing. The Dren?! The cargo vehicle's door slammed shut and began to pull away. Thinking fast Cline pulled his macrobinoculars back out and zoomed in, taking as many still image recordings of the escaping transport as he could manage, tags, appearance, model, make. It wasn't going to be much to go off of, but it was something - and he'd be slagged if he was going back to Prent empty-handed after this screwup.

He felt his connection to the Force awaken again as the vehicle pulled away, and considered giving chase once more, but the distance was too great by this point. A cold chill ran up his back. He hadn't been ready for what had just happened, but whoever was behind this... they sure as Dren had been ready, Frell, they'd been expecting him.

Cline let out a huff, and pulled out his comm. This was going to be a very unpleasant conversation. He dialed up his employer and waited for the fireworks.

[Sanis Prent]

"I guess that's why you've gone your way and I've gone mine."

Evolution. Seemed a cold and clinical way of describing the turns life had been taking. Again, my comm pinged. Incoming voice line, and not text. That didn't at all bode well.

"I have to take this...again."

No reassurances this time on how long it would be. The fact was, that I was getting a call from Mikey meant only one thing - a bad thing. Rising from my seat, I again ducked out of earshot.

"How bad is it, Mike?"

[Michael Cline]

I winced at the question, hand tightening on my comm hard enough to cause it to creek from the pressure, I waved one of the crew on, the black clad criminal who had driven the transport that had blocked my path being dragged into a white van.

"We were ambushed, sir." His voice contained a low growl, and barely contained anger - the more Michael focused on what had happened, on how he'd been stopped the angrier it was making him. "They had prepared for every contingency we could throw at them. Every contingency." The words spoke volumes between the lines, of Michael's growing frustration at having been countered so effectively.

"They managed to make off with the package, but we did capture one of theirs - and have detailed holo-images of their vehicle. Though it's unlikely they would still be using it, it may at least provide a place for us to start from."

[Sanis Prent]

"Shit!" I hissed, hand tightening on the comm as I turned by back further from Lok.

"Alright, listen. I'm on my way."

My expression darkened. I knew what the stakes were.

"Get the prisoner set to move somewhere quiet. And Mike, I want him to talk."

I didn't like the dark sides of this job, but I was equipped to handle them if pushed.

[Michael Cline]

His vision caught on the prisoner just before the van door slammed in his face, and Cline grinned at him, wide and vicious. "I understand, sir. That won't be a problem. I'll contact you as soon as we're set up."

He turned the comm off slapped his hand on the back of the transport's door, loud enough to be sure the man inside could hear. "Give our friend the deluxe package. I'll meet you at the site."

He turned back to walk toward the vehicle he'd come in, clenching and unclenching his fists. He'd get his pound of flesh, and Prent was going to get his 'talkative' guest.

[Sanis Prent]

I paced a few steps to let my anger cool off, suddenly turning back to Lok. That threw a little water on things. Approaching the table, I didn't bother to sit again.

"Something's come up, Lok. Work related. Don't let it spoil your good time here. I've got the check, and you have yourself a good evening. Hopefully this will blow over, and I'll be able to see you before you're out of here again."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The earlier mood had soured rather quickly, and the Lupine could feel the anger coming from her old friend. It was tangible and thick, and hung in the air like an ever-present cloud of ill will. Setting her fork aside, she placed her napkin beside her plate as she too rose from the table. There was obvious concern on her features, and s'Il looked up at him with a scrutinizing eye.

His words were cast aside and disregarded. No, she would not have dinner without his company; what would be the point in that?

"It's not anything good, I can tell that much. Perhaps I can help?"

[Sanis Prent]

"No! No. No."

Shaking my head, I called her off, waving a hand for emphasis.

Wait a second...

"Maybe."

I paused, glancing here and there. Lok s'Ilancy wasn't the first person on my list I wanted to have full disclosure into my new life, but I couldn't deny how well we'd worked together in the past. Was there a way of reconciling that?

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her lips turned up into a half of a smirk, but it was a smirk that was tempered with a healthy amount of caution. She knew the man standing before her, but she also knew that the time that'd separated them had further shaped each of them. For better or for worse, it was not for her to judge. She had enough ghosts, as it was.

At his initial denial, s'Il had only to wait for a half-breath before he rethought the offer, and while his final answer was not a concrete 'yes', it was certainly something she could work with.

"I do not leave until tomorrow, but if need be I can put in for an extension on our layover."

[Sanis Prent]

"Hopefully that's just for extra R&R. If this side project takes longer to wrap than tonight, it's likely a bust."

Smoothing my jacket down, I jerked my head in the direction of the exit.

"I've got my speeder on valet. We should talk there."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

He had become so professional, and yet retained all that made him Sanis Prent. It was, in its' own way, a strange thing to witness, and s'Il walked in silence beside him. Any words she wished to say, or anything he wished to divulge would be spoken in his speeder, and she clasped her hands at the small of her back as they headed away from their table and the caberet that was now in full swing.

Still though, the feelings that she had sensed were not harbingers of anything good.

Old habits had a way of coming back depending on the company, and so it was that a tinge of worry creased her brow.

[Sanis Prent]

A sporty speeder awaited us in the valet lot outside, and a nod of my head to the driver was all it took for him to exit and open the gull wing doors for me and Lok to enter. Once secured, I made for air at once. I didn't need to be force sensitive to feel her eyes on me as I drove on.

"The company's got a little trouble with some sensitive cargo."

Truth with omission. Felt like truth enough at least.

"We were trying to move it quietly, but apparently we haven't been quiet enough. There's been an incident."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"An incident."

She digested the bare-bones information presented to her in silence. It was basic, and generally the best way to get across the gist of whatever situation facilitated attention. Of course, each situation was very different, and now was certainly no exception.

Her hands folded into her lap, and she kept her eyes forward.

"What sort of sensitive cargo."

[Sanis Prent]

She knew me better than that. Or maybe she just wanted me to say. Either way, forthcoming wasn't today's flavor.

"The kind I'd rather not talk about."

A grimace. We flew along the skyways, taking a few shortcuts.

"Suffice to say, not something that'll cause you a problem if that's what you're wondering."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Good to know."

And, yes. It had been a concern of hers that whatever trouble Sanis was having would conflict with her position and personal convictions. The latter was still up in the air, as she wouldn't be able to make that sort of judgement until she knew what sort of cargo it was. Of course, again; it was Sanis. In a way she felt so far removed from him, and his desire to not elaborate gave her a sense of distance. Had they truly grown so apart from one another? They had once been so close. The time spent outside of each other's company seemed to've crumbled that closeness some.

And yet, the rational part of her mind knew that it was business. And sometimes business had to be kept smooth and quiet. She'd certainly not elaborated on the details of her own life as it stood nowadays. Oh, there were the things that could not be completely silenced, but there were certain details that - for the time being - could.

[Sanis Prent]

It was a pretty curt response. I opened my mouth to say something defensive, but promptly shut it before words could come out. Part of me wished she pried a little more. It would seem less like a rebuke.

While Mike took his sweet time getting other precious cargo out of view, I pulled just shy of the sky lane merge and twisted to a different section of casino sprawl. The back access was lit up like a Life Day celebration with police sirens. They made the situation trickier, but not impossible. A Devaronian flagged my sedan over, and I rolled the window down to let him get a good look at my face.

"Oh. Right this way, Mr. Prent."

The cop motioned for an opening in the cordon, and I touched the speeder down as close as I could manage to the loading bay. The stink of ozone and tibanna was still pretty fresh. Some of the blaster pocks still smoldered.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A frown, and as she opened her door, s'Il hesitated before leaving the speeder. The stench of what had so recently transpired hit her olfactory senses like a smack in the face, and the Lupine let out a forced breath. It was apparent to an incredible degree that something important had just been stolen. The Force rippled and sheered in the aftermath of what'd taken place, like a frantic creature scrambling for purchase in the wake of disaster. There was not a lot that could send the colors of the Force shaking in such a way. In fact, it was a pitiful few amount of things.

Another moment passed before she left the confines of the speeder, and standing, she slowly closed the door before looking to Sanis. There was a sudden steel look to her eyes that had not been there moments before. Gone was the gentle smile and soft features of an old friend; in its' place was an Alliance Captain who happened to have an intimate connection to the Force.

"Seems your problems are always growing in scope. I feel I should both congratulate you and offer my apologies."

[Sanis Prent]

"It's the part of success they don't tell you." I replied grimly, looking around the scene of the crime. The police knew my face and let me pass the cordon. It might not be crossing t's and dotting i's in terms of procedure, but I had my in with Gyndine's administrator and we had history.

My eyes traced from impact marks to the waiting and empty speeder that had also taken a few winging hits.

"So they roll up here...shoot it out with the staff and go..."

I traced a hand down the lane as illustration for my thoughts.

"I don't get it. You can't roll up this fast and get in and out without a lot of planning, but we were moving cargo under a handful of very tight lips."

I didn't need to say what was on my mind. If you eliminate other variables, the ones that remain are plenty disturbing. Glancing to Lok, I was already thinking to the next move.

"Do you sense anything?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was all very chaotic, everything all told. She watched, almost detached as Sanis went about piecing together what he could suss out from the scene left behind. Which wasn't much.

Even more perplexing were the leftover trailings of color; of a dark, burnt orange that permeated everything like some ever present aura. And yet there was something else; or rather, the lack of something else. One corner of her lips ticked, and she scented the air before stepping fully away from the sedan. She closed the door gently, and once more her hands moved to rest toghether behind her back.

"I sense... " it was a puzzled tone with which she spoke now. With such little information that he had given her, her frame of reference was incredibly limited. It was frustrating to a degree, and not helpful in any way to the problem at hand.

"I am not sure how to describe it."

She let out a huffed breath.

"There is color, and there is nothing. There is a lingering sense of intent and a strange bit of desperation, but beyond that I can tell you nothing else."

[Sanis Prent]

"Intent and desperation, huh?"

Well I could've told you that. Grimacing I turned away from the signs of violence on the wall.

"So basically not much, then? Alright, not that I figured we'd catch a smoking gun. Guess it's on to step two."

Heading back to the sedan, I climbed in and waited for Lok to do the same. As she made her way back, I pinged Mike on the comm.

"Mike, it's me. I'm headed to the farm. If you need to clean up before I get there, make it tidy."

My lupine guardian from days gone by returned to her seat. I killed the comm outright, and hit sky once more. It wasn't a long trip. Just a few turns off the beaten path, toward a privately-owned storage unit farm. Touching my speeder down along the fence and just shy of the gate, I killed the engine and waited. To pass the awkward silence, I drummed fingers on the pilot sticks.

"This really isn't how I wanted this reunion to go down, if it's all the same to you. Sorry to cut into your R&R."

[Michael Cline]

He walked out of the backroom, shutting the door behind him and wiping away some blood from his knuckles - man that guy could scream - he'd barely heard his comm ping over the noise before he excused himself to check his messages. "Tidy?" What the frell did that mean? if anything he'd have expected Prent would want to be elbow deep in this guy's sternum himself by the end of the day. Tidy. The frell.

He shrugged and finished wiping off the blood on his hands, waving away the walnut cracker he'd requested earlier as one of the guards presented it to him. "Looks like the boss has something else in mind. Damn shame." He gave a shrug and tightened his tie from it's loosened position, "Get this please looking respectable, and get him looking well... heh... less like I was just in there." He started to whistle a bit, stress from earlier having been at least somewhat worked out of his system before a ripple ran through him from his tailbone to the tip of his head. Weird chill... felt like someone'd just stepped on his gravesite.

What exactly was Mr. Prent up to?

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

With a sideways look, s'Il let a knowing expression fall on Sanis.

"It is our curse."

And yet she didn't smile. It didn't take any amount of Force to know that where he'd taken them was a place that was more often than not reserved for a certain way of gathering information. It was not a pleasant way. There needed to be no words. No explanations. She had enough of a notion of what was happening - or had happened - within the non-descript building they'd arrived at. She blinked slowly then, and looking forward once more, the Lupine let herself fall into the old familiar role. He had once called her his guardian, and it was a term that she'd over time become partially fond of. It came back so naturally, and as her senses reached out...

... her back stiffened.

Ears ticking back, her eyes narrowed at nothing while her mind pulled back in surprise.

[Sanis Prent]

Jedi had their senses, and I had my own. Years riding with a Jedi on shotgun left you mindful to moments when they might go quiet or distant. Like a dog winding something unsmelled in the air. It had saved my ass on multiple occasions to trust those little tells, and this was no exception. My expression turned cautious, shifting in my seat as I caught Lok's faraway demeanor.

"What is it?"

[Michael Cline]

Run.

Something was coming. He'd felt it, just for an instant, but it was unmistakable, and it shook him to his very core. In all the years since he'd started down this path he hadn't felt anything so viscerally terrifying, or assuredly dangerous to him since that first experience of walking into his home and finding his family slaughtered, drug room to room and left there for him to find. He'd fled. He'd hid in an alley for 2 weeks before Sudoku had found him and pulled him up out of it. He wanted to run again, he wanted to vomit and curl into a ball and just not be here, anywhere but HERE. Whatever was coming was his opposite, he felt like a flame being besieged by a torrent.

Fight.

He wasn't going to run, not again, not after so long. He wasn't giving up everything he'd finally managed for himself. His hands tightened into fists, his teeth grit and he stood his ground. His focus now burning intently at the door that led outside. Whatever it was that was coming was going to walk through that door. He should attack it, kill it. Strangle it. Burn it. Eradicate it from this galaxy.

Breathe.

He drew in air and steadied himself. This was no way to act, not like a scared child. Not like an angry monster. He kept breathing, hands relaxing, though his focus on the door didn't waver. His tension bled away from him, and he waited.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a split second of confusion, then puzzled apprehension as her hand finally flexed, pulling at the opening lever built into the door handle, and standing to her full height - a shockingly short height of five foot two, s'Il only gave Sanis a look from over the top of the sedan.

"You've got an ace up your sleeve, I see."

Cryptic yes, but it seemed appropriate given the circumstances.

Shutting the door, the Captain peeled her eye away, even past the far edge of the building and farther past to the distant skyline of structures that cut into the landscape. Again her senses venture out as she let one hand splay out over the smooth metal of the speeder's glossy rooftop. Before she had been unsure and therefore somewhat careless.

Now though, she employed a searching inner eye; not exactly invasive but certainly not tentative either. Her thoughts ventured forth with intent to delve into the truth of things, and the Lupine poured herself into the seemingly menial task.

Whatever waited for them on the inside of that prefabricated farm building was not something that she particularly felt like meeting head on in such blind fashion.

There was pain within those walls... and... satisfaction?

Her hand slid away from the smooth surface, meeting its' opposite behind her back as she stood up straighter.

"Something you're not telling me?"

A double accusation, though he would know that she already suspected the apprehension of a prisoner. It was the interrogator that held her interest. Held her complete attention.

[Sanis Prent]

Lok bloodhounded me like I figured she would at some point or another. It was my own damn fault for getting her involved in this mess. I just had to live with the consequences. She wouldn't like the methods I dealt in, and the more she knew, the more she probably wouldn't like.

Still, I'd rarely seen her spooked. Something had her on edge more than just the escalation of any of my given bad habits and character flaws.

"That I rough up people who steal from me?"

I didn't prefer to dwell on the details, and I didn't care for her to ask. Either way, it didn't explain the pinched look in her expression, so whatever had her going, it wasn't that.

[Michael Cline]

Cline sat at a table in the middle of the room, fingers tapping in growing nervousness. What was it waiting for? It knew he was here, he knew it was here. It should be on him already, whatever it was. He leaned back, frustrated breaths escaping him with each minute.

The last of the crew retreated to another room, the sense of malice emanating from Mike becoming almost palpable. He checked his chrono, then rechecked his comm. Nothing new from Mr. Prent.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

An unsatisfied look was given to Sanis as she blinked, her hands still clasped behind her, each finger pressing against another in a ritual of patience.

"It's not hard to tell that you do that, and I wouldn't expect otherwise."

Words not spoken in frustration, they were merely couched in the truth that each knew of the other.

"There's something else though," she looked away from the building as she finally moved, stepping around the front of the sedan. "It's... "

She blinked, a slight frown touched the corners of her lips as she let her eye return to her old friend.

"It is curious and worrisome."

[Sanis Prent]

That wasn't it, then. Surprisingly, she was a bit more okay with that tacit admission than I figured she would be. It made me wonder exactly how much of my situation remained an open book to my enigmatic Jedi guardian. Still, she wasn't any less spooked, and I pulled my slim profile blaster from it's dog leg under my jacket just to be safe about things.

"It's worrisome alright, but hopefully not for too long."

Heading to the storage unit, I gave the segmented metal door three raps with the back of my hand.

"Mike, it's me."

[Michael Cline]

He nearly jumped at the sound, and then Mr. Prent's voice. Him? He wasn't what he felt, he was certain of it. So many intentions around him, behind him in the other makeshift room a bit of fear, some hunger, nothing severe, nothing that wasn't the usual background noise he'd learned to live with and pick through.

In front of him, concern. Longing thoughts... curiosity? His eyes widened a bit. Prent wasn't alone. Whatever it was he'd felt before was with him. What was this. Some sort of trap, or ploy by his employer? He stood slowly, eyes narrowing at the door. "Of course, Mr. Prent..." He said lowly, thumb and forefinger rubbing together as he considered the options. He had a job to do, and part of that was now opening the door and letting Mr. Prent inside, along with whatever it was that had terrified him so deeply earlier.

He clenched and unclenched his hand a few times, giving several false starts toward the door and pulling back uncertainly. Damnit Mike, get it together. He all but rushed the door, knowing if he didn't force himself to do it quick, like pulling off a bandage, he wasn't going to get the nerve to do it at all. He pulled the segmented door up on it's rails, having no idea what he should expect on the other side.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

And there he stood, framed by the dimmed light behind him. The epicenter of what she had felt; what had shocked her so unexpectedly.

The downturn of her lips seemed to stop in a small amount of surprise, and s'Il felt her expression change to something a bit more mystified. A few inches shorter than Sanis, this stranger who had been called... Mike, stood like a man ready to buck against some unknown assailant. He could feel her, and she him. What had been wrapped in shade was now so clear.

Her eyes only slightly narrowed then, and she took a half-step back. She could smell the hesitation on him, the uncertainty and apprehension. It rolled from him even stronger than his recent deeds.

[Sanis Prent]

It didn't take a mind reader to get the gist that there was something going on between Lok and Mike, and not much of it seemed good. My feet planted where they stood, head swiveling between my ever-faithful Jedi guardian and the wet-eared goon with a talent for rough stuff that Sasseeri had saddled me with. I lowered my blaster, but didn't yet holster it.

"You two know each other?"

Either way, they were eyeing each other up something fierce, and I felt strangely invisible at that moment.

[Michael Cline]

He barely heard Mr. Prent's question as he stared at the woman, everything he hadn't expected. She was smaller than him, 5' 2, maybe 3. He had a definite weight advantage on her. So why the Frell did she scare the bantha piss out of him? He'd stared down, and lost he reminded himself, Sith Lords before without feeling this sort of apprehension. Sith.

It clicked into place. Jedi. Dren. Prent's friend was a Jedi, he was very certain the color had drained out of his face when he realized it. He turned to clear the path away from the door, puting as much immediate distance as he could manage between himself and the woman.

"Never met before, sir." He said far too quickly. "Everything is as you requested." He slank back into a far corner of the room. "If you would like some privacy for your guest and yourself, I'd be happy to return to the Casino." He'd be damn near ecstatic, in fact.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was a strange sort of tunnel vision that had overtaken her, and s'Il watched in silence as Mike retreated to a far corner. For her own part, she vaguely registered Sanis' question, and as she stepped through the now open doorway, she gave the barest shake of her head.

"No," her answer was as curt as Mike's. "We have not met before."

Her hands still behind her back, she finally let her gaze move to scan the building's interior with a critical eye.

She turned to look at Sanis. There was no accusation, but a level amount of firm control met his own eyes.

"Where is your unfortunate catch."

[Sanis Prent]

Mike was awfully quick to excuse himself, and I frowned at the attempt.

"Mike, I need you close until we get this matter settled."

We were playing pretty high stakes without the need to hit the casino floor as it was. At Lok's pointed question in my direction, I glanced back to my associate.

"Go on, show her."

Hopefully he'd taken my suggestion about tidying up to heart.

[Michael Cline]

He wanted to mutter something under his breath that she was the Jedi, couldn't she just sense it out? But that would be petulant. He should just point at the door and be done with it, he had no desire to go anywhere near the lightsider. After another beat between them, and knowing he was pushing his luck with his employers as it was, he locked eyes with her again.

"This way, ma'am." he all but growled as he walked toward a small set of rooms constructed through hanging drywall in the enclosed space, he opened the door and stepped inside, at one corner tied to a chair sat a man in black gear, his face was bruised, but the bleeding had been wiped away and patched up at least. Now he knew what Prent had meant when he'd called to have them tidy up. Across from him was a second constructed room, with no door so they could keep an eye on the prisoner, most of Sanis' men sat huddled around a table there, watching a game of Sabacc play out between a few of them.

"Please, do not hesitate to ask if you need anything" the sarcasm was dripping as he moved aside to let her into the room.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Standing beside him, s'Il remained mindful enough to maintain a small bit of space between them, and she afforded him a sideways glance at his last words. The tone was so incredibly palpable; she could've reached out and taken it into her hands it was that thick. Her thoughts stayed at a constant simmer, slight bubbles beneath a calm exterior. If this was some ill-thought out joke on Sanis' part...

A pause as she twisted her upper body, sending a long, searching look to her old friend. His features were tight with tension, but it was in no way related to the undercurrents of what was now swirling about herself and Mike. Her lips set into a thin line as she pulled her eye away.

No. This was something beyond her his normal fair. He had carried out a fair amount of poorly planned teasing in their days together, but this was something that she knew he had no hand in.

s'Il looked back to the poor soul bound to the chair, noting the bruises and the way his head drooped, chin resting on his chest, his breathing long and measured.

Her awareness spread out then, as she felt herself inspect each and every aspect of the man's current state with a ghostly, unseen hand. Without moving from where she stood, the Lupine could see each and every blow that had been rained down. The memory of his savage beating was fresh and raw, as if she herself was bearing witness. She blinked, pulling away and back into the sphere of her own mind. For now, a cursory inspection would do.

"You are... particularly thorough," came her mumbled acknowledgment of Mike's tactics. There was no approval in her voice, and taking a single step forward, she turned to face him fully with a stern, broken gaze sent up to meet his eyes.

"A bit too thorough, I would venture."

[Michael Cline]

He frowned, her eyes locking with his own once more as she looked down her nose at him, judged him. The Jedi were truly every bit as self-righteous as he'd been told in the past it seemed. He crossed his arms and fought the urge to sneer. He was already fighting those same fight or flight instincts from earlier, even being this close to her.

"I'm not used to having my methods critiqued." He said dryly. "I find that how I work is effective." He groused at her, once more the two of them all but developing tunnel vision that removed everyone else from the room as they spoke, and had to remind himself that this was Mr. Prent's guest, most likely his friend, lest he say something less polite, even if it would be more honest.

"I do apologize if it leaves a sour taste in your mouth, miss. I am not used to accommodating Jedi sensibilities." He was angry, frustrated, damn well scared on top of that - he kicked himself the moment his mouth got ahead of himself, and he pointed out that she was a Jedi. Prent hadn't introduced her as such, and he just gave more away than he'd meant to.

[Sanis Prent]

I hadn't misheard. My eyes immediately flicked in Mike's direction, a flash of surprise beating past the sabacc face I could usually front. One look at Lok was all that I needed to confirm that she'd heard him loud and clear too.

I kept my mouth pinned shut, though. If that was Lok's bit to cop to, it was in her court to do just that. My mind was reeling how the kid had any clue about it.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her reaction was immediate, though subdued, as though she was chastising a misbehaving child. A single finger came up as her head angled to the side.

"I am not a Jedi."

She ignored the look that Sanis gave to both her and Mike, and instead let her hand drop back down as she faced the prisoner once more. A few more moments passed in silence, and she stepped forward to approach the bound man.

"Remember that."

[Michael Cline]

He ... admitted he was caught off guard by the reaction, eyes widening in surprise and fear, before narrowing in curiosity as she approached the man he'd previously worked over.

"... I'll keep that in mind." He adjusted his tie and took a half step back to give her room.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Kneeling to her haunches, s'Il gave a quick, errant back-hand wipe to her uniform trousers before reaching up to lift the man's head up. He groaned, flinching from her touch, but otherwise obeyed. His head lolled upward and back in a helpless movement. The bruising around his eyes and the washed cuts along his cheekbones spoke volumes of the brutal torture that he'd endured. It made her frown deepen into a disapproving scowl, but s'Il knew all the same that the methods employed against him were in a way reactionary to whatever clandestine crime he had committed.

After so many years on the fringe, surviving within that proto-existence of the Rebel Alliance, sights like this were no stranger to her. It didn't make seeing the after effects any less disconcerting though.

A sigh, and she pulled her hand away to stand once more. Turning to face Mike, her eyes briefly flitted to Sanis.

"A heavy-handed approach to dealing with whatever problem you've found yourselves in, gentlemen."

She addressed the both of them on equal ground. She had instantly gone beyond the mild annoyance at Sanis' deflections, and now sought the truth.

"Mind telling me what's so important that you must carve a man up in retaliation?"

[Sanis Prent]

Coming to loggerheads like this was probably a matter of time. I'd tucked my pistol away, but the encounter hadn't gotten significantly cozier. I hadn't even clued Mike into the details, and while I trusted Lok by degrees more than my supposed right hand, he at least had perspective to the present reality. At the root of it was...

"Money."

Because that's ultimately what it boiled down to. It wasn't what was in the crate, but it was certainly what the contents were worth, and what tough people higher on the food chain would come calling for if it went missing.

"A lot of it."

Not exactly forthcoming, but I'd already told her that it wasn't of material interest to either the Jedi or the Alliance. I didn't burn my friends. The ones I still counted, at least.

"I run casinos, not soup kitchens, Lok. Somewhere at the end of the line, someone's getting paid. The circle of life. And I'm here to make sure it moves us all."

[Michael Cline]

That was one way of getting around the question, he supposed. Tell the truth, or at least a version of it. He had no idea what was actually in the crates, it wasn't his job to know. His job was to get it from point A to point B without problems. He'd failed in that job because of their guest and his friends. He was fortunate that Prent had said to tidy up when he had, if this level of information retrieval bothered the woman, she'd have hated to see what Cline would have done with more time.

No amount of 'tidying up' fixed the sorts of broken bones he'd planned for the man - and if whatever it was she was after or supposed to help them with, or frankly whatever it was exactly that Mr. Prent had brought her here for didn't pan out - the sort of breaks he was still going to receive.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She gave a hrmph to Sanis, then looked back to the man as he still sat, secured to the chair.

Her hand moved back up then, and she placed slender fingers at the side of his face. Again he winced, flinching from her touch like a scared scurrier. It did not matter to her, and pressing each fingertip into the soft and bruised flesh, s'Il closed her eyes, head bowed as she let her mind reach out. Tendrils of the Force moved into the addled mind of the man, smoothing over his frayed nerves while looking; searching. Seeking. He jerked in her hold, but the bindings holding him fast offered little resistance, and the Lupine pushed her way further inward, further down into his memories. He let out a choked whimper, and she found her own features set in a puzzled expression as her awareness raked through what was available.

There was not much.

His knowledge was minimal, as he'd been hired only to steal the crates. He did not know what they contained, only that they were wanted by his employer, and the credits offered had been enough to entice him.

But, there was one bit of useful information. Her features darkened, and her hand finally pulled away.

Eyes opening, she looked up from her crouched position to both Mike and Sanis, though her steely gaze settled firmly on the former.

"They had an ysalamir."

[Sanis Prent]

"Why would they have one of those?"

It seemed so out of place. Like a nit on a sweater that just broke the surface and distracted the eyes. Then you went and pulled on it and unraveled the whole thing. Lok wasn't catching any better answers in her net, so I glanced to Cline instead.

"The only reason you'd even bother with one of those damned things is if you're expecting a..."

My eyes returned back to Lok. That wasn't possible. They couldn't have known to expect her. Hell, I'd barely found out she was planetside three hours ago.

"...Jedi."

[Michael Cline]

The dren is a ysalamir? Cline glanced between Mr. Prent and his associate, who seemed to be sharing a moment that both of them understood, and that he was clearly out of the loop about.

The ysalamir was a way to deal with a Jedi, is that what was being implied? Just who was this woman.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

An exasperated sigh as she finally rose to stand, pulling her hand away to wipe it on her pantleg in distaste.

"Jedi are not exclusive to the effects, Sanis."

A final look to the man, and she stepped away, back towards where Mike and Sanis both stood. Straightening the wide collar of her outer uniform jacket, s'Il gave a huffed breath.

"If your thieves had an Ysalamir, I would venture to guess that they anticipated the need to stop a Force user from intervening."

She turned slightly to look at the prisoner, raising her voice in a stern question that was not really a question.

"Is that right?"

Her only answer was another groan, followed by a pained whimper and a slow nod to the affirmative.

[Sanis Prent]

"Seems like a waste, don't you think?"

My question went pointedly to the punching bag in the chair, who went from being an object of pity to a proper interrogation subject before Lok.

"If I had a Jedi in my pocket, force only knows I'd have pulled that ace by now."

Well...

I glanced to Lok, feeling a little awkward. Guess I was just two steps too late. Still didn't explain a damned thing.

"So what's the angle, then?"

[Michael Cline]

Wait it wasn't just Jedi? It affected all Force users? Oh. OH! Cline wanted to slap himself across the head, but managed to restrain himself to his eyebrows raising a quarter inch. That was what had happened with the transport, that's why he'd suddenly been cut off from everything.

Dren. They really had been anticipating him. His lips tightened sharply, he didn't want to keep Sanis out of the loop on this - it was relevant to what had happened. But he clearly didn't know what he was, and that meant Sasseeri hadn't shared that information, and that meant it wasn't his to share. Of course there was the Jedi, or... well whatever she was to consider. His eyes flicked, even as his head remained still, toward Lok, he wasn't going to say anything which meant she had all the power here. He hated that fact. He hated a lot about the woman right now, actually.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The conflict of interest that roiled off of Mike was sharp, and s'Il let her features fall into a strange look of partial understanding. She could feel the dilemma, and it was one that she wished to have no involvement in. Her presence here had been not expected as things stood, and in a moment of acceptance she dipped her head, looking down to the durracrete floor.

A quandary indeed.

Her brow knit in thought, and her hands moved to once more come together at the small of her back.

"It is possible that they were trying to... " a moment of thought, as the phrase she was trying to say did not come to mind as quickly as she wished.

"Kehna seh'di seh... plan for every eventuality?"

[Michael Cline]

He again tried to not show the surprise on his face, though his vision tightened on her. She hadn't said anything... and honestly that should have made him feel better, it really should have, but it didn't. He was still conflicted on what he needed to do, and more so he still didn't know what role Prent's friend played in all of this. He needed a moment, and worse knew if he excused himself it would seem suspicious.

He needed to act as if he were still busy doing his job, and not worrying about being discovered, well more so. "If I may ask?" He managed, "What precisely is a ysalamir?" This information could be exceptionally useful to him in the future.

[Sanis Prent]

Bullshit. I skewered Lok with a look calling her on it. No one was that careful. Reluctantly, I flicked my attention to Mike, humoring a question that was now going painfully unresolved.

"They're native creatures of Myrkyr. Fussy, slothy creatures that require a lot of attention to keep alive. Apparently force users can't do their tricks around them, so I'll ask it again. Why bother going through one helluva contingency to cover up the near impossible chance you'd need one?"

My eyes drifted to the prisoner in the chair. In a fluid motion, my pistol was back in my hand, and the business end went to his forehead.

"And I'm done asking rhetorical questions."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She frowned, turning slightly to look at Sanis as he nudged the barrel of his blaster up against the man's temple.

If she was moved to call for some sort of clemency, it was not forthcoming. She cared little about what her old friend wished to do with his captive.

"You said so yourself, Sanis."

She gave a slight shake of her head, eyes narrowing.

"Money."

He had doggedly refused to tell her what was so damnably costly, and she threw his deflections back into his face.

"If you were determined to steal whatever is in your precious crates - that is most costly as you've told me, would you not make sure that everything that you plan is as thorough as can be? You are a man who makes plans and tries to account for any and every possibility; I know that well enough." There was a low tone that laced her next words. "Tell me, for old times sake - why did you have a cortosis slug for your shellgun?"

[Michael Cline]

Mr. Prent always had a touch of the dramatic. The gun came out and Mike stared at the man, who's eyes were wide now, sweat beading his brow. The woman was shooting back Prent's own answer at him, and asking a question that clearly meant something to the past they shared, Cline honestly wasn't horribly interested in finding out more.

Sure he thought it was bullshit, but it was probably believable enough, maybe if he backed the play by the woman, Prent would back off.

"We..." A mumbled, broken sound came from the chair, Cline's eyes locked hard on the man again, trying to speak now, to save his life. "We...were... told to." He swallowed hard. "T...that it was... was going... going to be needed." And as if finally recognizing the surroundings his eyes widened and he stared directly at the red-haired youth. "... You jumped... you jumped over my... cargo transport."

A knot twisted in Cline's stomach, face turning sour, hatred roiling off of him in that moment. He knew the woman could feel it, and he didn't care in the least. He had the strongest desire to turn the man's head around so he could see his shoulder blades. "Maybe I hit him too hard earlier. I think he's delusional."

[Sanis Prent]

As the condemned muppet kept talking, my eyes made a slow movement towards Mike. Deep in thought, I weighed everything on my plate leading up to the moment. The strange way Mike and Lok seemed to know each other. The gallows confessional. He was Sasseeri's man, and she'd conveniently put him under me. To keep tabs on me in a way she knew I wouldn't look for? Licking suddenly dry lips, I pulled the gun away from the hyperventilating man's forehead.

Some things didn't change. I still didn't want to be the guy who executed people in cold blood.

"Maybe."

It was a worthless word said without conviction. I didn't believe in maybes right now.

"Or maybe someone knows things about the company even I don't know."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Maybe."

A hehf, as she finally looked away, and moving past Mike, the Lupine slipped back through the threshold to put distance between herself and the sordid aftermath of what was arguably an ongoing bit of drama wrapped up in the sorry form of a man, bound to a chair. She had been a part of such dealing in the very distant past, but those were years so far behind her. Had things changed so drastically yet stayed so utterly the same in her darker times?

And still she walked.

This was not anything that she was beholden to. This was...

An almost angry set to her features that only built upon the ill omens and poor cut of the downturned edges of her lips.

She had come to the Silver Peak Casino on Dage's insistence, walked through those doors because he said she needed a break from her duties. And right now, Captain Loklorien s'Ilancy wanted nothing more than to bury herself in those very duties that her Executive Officer insisted she stay away from.

[Michael Cline]

The mood shifted around Mr. Prent, apprehension. Paranoia.

Damn. He knew, or at least suspected. Cline tensed and untensed his fists staring intently at the man. "Sir, if I may..." He watched the woman step out of the room, "I can have the men continue to gather any information he may have, if he has any. But this... ysalamir? That could be a lead, right? It sounds difficult to acquire." He was trying to change the conversation, put it back on track and away from what he was, or what Prent suspected.

[Sanis Prent]

I holstered up my piece, looking at Mike with new eyes. I'd never really trusted him anyways. No real loss, just added stakes. You didn't burn people over that lightly. Even if I wanted to, he'd see the gat before I had it on him. At any rate, his mouth was running, and fortunately it had things to say worth hearing.

"I'll have Murghk look into it. They'd need plenty of space and accessories at any rate."

A thin lead, but one worth looking at. I glanced back at the punching bag.

"Keep this joker on lock. I just might have more difficult questions for him. And Mike."

I was on my way out, but fixed him with a pointed look.

"Who else knows about you?"

[Michael Cline]

Michael remembered everything that had come before him, his time with Kyashi, his capture by the Order, he'd been through so much heartbreak and pain in his short life, enough to destroy a man. You'd be amazed what you could live through, though. And he'd survived, having Sanis learn what he was like this wasn't ideal, but it was survivable. He could of course deny it, act as if it wasn't painfully obvious. His shoulders slumped a bit instead, his hands going to his pants pocket to tuck into them, thumbs resting just outside.

"The only three I can think of who would know my role here and my unique... skill set, beside Ms. Sasseeri of course, would be Mr. Olorin and maybe Tick and Tock." He shook his head, "But it's entirely possible someone else found out, if your... lady friend... can sense me out so easily, I'm certain there are others who can as well." He felt like he owed Sanis an apology for keeping him in the dark about all of this, but what good would that do? He did what he was supposed to, and it wasn't as if he and Prent had been particularly close anyway. This was a job, and a stepping stone back to being at Ms. Sasseeri's side. Nothing more.

"Will there be anything else, Mr. Prent?" He stared at the man in front of him, the guys eyes were now fixed on Cline's face, and a look of absolute terror permeated his expression. Mike may as well have been the devil itself in the guy's eyes - and Prent had said to keep him under lock, he hadn't mentioned the man's condition. You'd be amazed what you can live through.

[Sanis Prent]

My eyes went from Mike to Lok's wake. I had loose threads to tie up before they ended up unraveling before my eyes.

"Stay frosty, Mike. Management's got no reason to burn us over this. If you're even half right, then the stakes just went up a lot. I'm gonna see about putting the squeeze on the spaceport. I want you to head over there when we're straight here. If someone doesn't...I dunno...smell right or whatever, then you stay on them like stink on Hutt."

With that, I left the man to do work, following my Jedi friend as she looked like she was about to cash her chips out.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She had traversed the length of the main building, and stepped through the main door without any fuss. Another few seconds later, and s'Il was standing beside the passenger door of the speeder that she and Sanis had arrived in, her hands clasped together behind her as her back remained straight, shoulder hitched back. Her mismatched eyes looked off into the distance as she cleared her mind, pushing away all that had so recently transpired. Her office aboard Khera'Va'ss'io was where she should've been, right now. She should've had the latest reports and logs finished by now, and given enough of a glance to the next day's schedules to at least say she was aware of her future tasks. As it stood now, she was not so safely ensconced in her office. She was here, now. Having just been a part of a blooming problem that had Sanis Prent's name scrawled over very inch of it.

Her good moods from earlier had long ago evaporated.

[Sanis Prent]

"When were you gonna tell me about Mike?"

I reached for clearer air as I burned though it, sparking up a stim as I caught up with her at the speeder.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

At that, she turned a semi-surprised look across the top of the sedan to him.

"You ask as though I've known about him from the moment I stepped foot on the planet."

She turned to regard him more fully.

"But if you mean just now, back there? It is not my place to do so."

[Sanis Prent]

"Bullshit, Lok. On both accounts."

She wasn't playing haughty with me. We had too much history to make that stick. Seen too much and shared too much blood. Time moved us around, changed our hats a few times, but it didn't make amnesiacs or fools out of us.

"I saw the way you tensed up the moment we pulled to a stop. Saw the way you two side-eyed each other like you just swore you'd both walked over each other's graves. You think I haven't seen that before? Seen that and know what it means? I was about to ventilate that dumb bastard in the songbird seat not five minutes ago because I had no other card up my sabacc array."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"And what would you like me to say, Sanis?"

She stared at him for a long while, taking in each and every emotion that danced over his features, drinking in the waves of frustration that rolled from him. It was not a pleasant taste, and she ground her teeth while considering her options. There was so much at play, so much at war within her own mind. And in that moment, she knew that her old friend was due the truth. If it was an explanation for her actions that he wanted, she knew that for him to fully understand, he would need to have all of her cards in his hand.

She bowed her head.

A few moments later she opened her door.

"Drive."

[Sanis Prent]

Hopping back into the speeder, I slammed my gull wing door shut. Lok got in as well, but I wasn't in a hurry beyond powering up the craft.

"Where to?"

That wasn't a simple matter of directions. I wasn't entirely sure who I'd asked to ride shotgun anymore.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I don't care."

A long moment passed, and she waited until he would begin setting them into motion. He didn't, and she let out a sigh, eyes closing as her head dipped low.

Finally, and without ceremony or any sort of gentle beginning, she spoke.

"I was the one that killed Dan."

[Sanis Prent]

There was a bombshell. I took my hands off the yoke and turned to read the face that had dropped it. Not that I had reason to believe she was less than dead serious, but when someone says something that heavy, you look to see if it's got side effects.

Dan. That bastard. I hated him from the get-go. He was a micromanager and a tyrant, drunk with the sound of his own voice. To me, at least. The tyrant part seemed to have worked its way out, since he'd decided to pull a coup out of nowhere. I wasn't sorry in the least for Dan. I was sorry for her. But like hell if I could say that. Sorry to someone who had to put their husband down like a dog. Sorry was filler. Saccharine and useless filler designed to eat up space where something better ought to go. A placebo drug everyone took to make believe they felt better.

"Well, you sure killed the hell out of him."

Like a stoic pompous jackass, sent down in flames with his oversized ship. And now his widow's confession in my passenger seat. Somehow, this kind of talk felt normal. Speaking close to the heart in close quarters like we used to.

"Does Tak know?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Of course not."

It was the one last secret that she could never tell her daughter. It was bad enough that the younger Lupine now lived with the stigma of her father.

Again she looked up, her eye tracing the edges of the clouds up in the sky. Each line in her face seemed to deepen, then smooth out once more.

"He did not die in the crash, though. Sanis, when I tell you that I killed him, I want you to understand that with my own hands, I ended his life."

[Sanis Prent]

Now we'd entered something darker. I tried to pry beneath and just as quickly realized I wasn't sure I wanted to dig. But she was telling me this for a reason, right? I knew all too well about women scorned. Dan was a traitor and a villain. Loklorien s'Ilancy put down people like that for years. But this wasn't just the next in line. It was more personal a death than anyone ought to have to serve. That she was telling me this instantly made me realize where we still stood. But still...

"Lok, why are you telling me this?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Because you need to know. You deserve to know."

Still she looked to the sky.

"We have been friends for a very long time, and whatever we don't immediately tell to one another, eventually comes out. I would much rather you find all of this out from me than some other means."

Her head bowed then, and a hand came up to apply pressure to the inside corners of her closed eyes.

"I killed children in my husband's name. I sent agents of death to people that had once been my friends in his name. I did so much evil in his name. And all because he asked me too. He asked, and I was so completely his that I did anything and everything to remain at the highest point of his esteem. He promised me so much."

Sanis had known for a very long while the tortured relationship that she'd had with the Man in Black. That haunting spectre that chased her so relentlessly. The phantom that hung on her footsteps and hounded her so mercilessly.

When she next spoke, her words were a quiet whisper.

"He was the Man in Black, and when he came calling for the final time, I could do nothing but fall to him."

[Sanis Prent]

Her confessional rolled out of her mouth and I was completely unprepared for it. Loklorien s'Ilancy, Jedi Master, and fallen almost totally to the forces of evil she swore to oppose. Me feeling sorry for myself about my little problems seemed so absolutely small in the face of that.

"You mean to tell me that of all people...Dan was the Sith Lord?"

And what she was telling me now of her dark deeds and her fall.

"You became his apprentice?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I had to."

Taking her hand away, the elder Lupine finally looked up, turning to lock eyes with him.

"He gave me a choice; either me, or my daughter."

[Sanis Prent]

No real choice at all. My eyes closed with the gravity of it, and with the knowledge that all the running we did in the old days...all the struggle was for next to nothing. The danger was close. It was always close.

"And with you in that uniform, I guess everything's jake between you and the Alliance still. And the Jedi?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A heh, and she lightly shook her head.

"Hardly. I was demoted, and the only reason that I'm not locked up is because I had a heavy hand in stopping Dan."

Her hands folded in her lap then, and s'Il settled a bit more into her seat as she sent her eyes forward.

"The Jedi... that is a bit more complicated. Or a bit more simple, depending on how you look at it."

[Sanis Prent]

"It's the Jedi. It's always more complicated."

At least to me it was. They were an ancient sect of warriors and mystics driven to all their life decisions by gut feelings and instinct. Which seemed not to dissimilar to the way I went through life. The only difference I could chalk up was a pinch of magic and a few extra percentage points on when they were right. Still, from the way Lok inscrutably put it, it wasn't a good spin.

"You're an outcast, aren't you?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

That he still had not taken them up and into the skylanes was not unnoticed, but in the here and now of her confession, she supposed that it was excusable.

"I don't know what I am," she eventually admitted.

"But my standing with the Jedi is neither here nor there, and right now not applicable. Me not telling you about your friend is exactly as I said: it is not my place to do so. Whatever I sense, and whatever I feel, those are nothing in the face of an individual's choice to speak of their own... talents. That I can divine some hidden truths is nothing if I abuse that knowledge, and recently, I have dealt enough abuse. I am not willing to jump back into that pot of boiling waters. An interrogation is one thing, but to divulge a secret that isn't mine to divulge? No. I've enough regrets without needing to add another."

[Sanis Prent]

"I guess we've both changed a bit then."

She explained her reservations, which did little to satisfy what I wanted to hear. What exactly was I hoping for though? I finally kicked the speeder up and towards the skylane, letting the matter settle with a bit of silence.

"Guess it's my turn to be forthcoming then. What I'm doing here on Gyndine and elsewhere, you've only got half the picture. The company has other interests, and I'm here as a fixer to make sure they stay airtight."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

They passed a few other speeders as she mulled over his words. It made sense, in a way. That he would be in the position he was now seemed only natural. Sanis always had that air of about his of someone that got things done no matter the method. As well, he had a tendency to land on his feet no matter the situation; his current position as he spoke of it was evidence enough of that. A half-turn of her head.

"So then," she started with a barely visible grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, "... a dinner and a show is not going to be on the order of the day for your guest back there."

[Sanis Prent]

"I'm trying to keep him alive." I pressed through gritted teeth. "You think I want to bag someone up like I'm taking out the trash?"

But there weren't many options. In the end, if pushed, I pushed right back.

"I told you a long time ago that I wasn't some rube out to play a hero's game. I wasn't. I'm still not. But that doesn't mean I'm in any way inclined to go the other way."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Yes, I am aware of that. You have told me many times."

Her attempt at trying to marginally lighten the mood, no matter how small, had obviously fallen on deaf ears. Or it was ill-applied. It was not the first time.

"I'm not so old that my mind has begun to grow feeble," she finally grumbled, looking to the window and staring out at the traffic that was beginning to pick up.

[Sanis Prent]

"No," I blurted, turning the course of the conversation around, "that's not what I meant. I'm just..."

How was I supposed to even talk about this? We were still the same people, but the gulf between us seemed somehow larger than before.

"Trying to play the game on my own terms, I guess. Funny, I've spent so many years out there chasing a dream, you know. Now I'm practically wearing it."

She could see by my expression that somewhere along the way, dreams and reality had jumped the tracks.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Funny how when you get what you want, you sometimes realize that it's not what you need."

It was a harsh truth that the Lupine had many times over experienced. With each bright moment in her life, a looming shadow more often than not descended upon her to take away whatever joy she might've been able to grasp.

Looking out her window, s'Il gave a strange, almost pained smile.

"There are many times that I wish we were still on Layla. Still doing... whatever."

A heh.

"If I believed in 'fate', I would blame it for all that has happened since."