Shine Over Shadow

[Usil Anansi]

Cloud City, 11 ABY

It was the story of life: to survive when it shouldn't; to thrive where it shouldn't. Countless worlds around countless stars, and yet life did not limit itself to those where the task was easy, where the air was breathable, or the environment hospitable. Life took one look at each new world, and forged a strategy to conquer. It burrowed beneath the earth to hide from hostile skies; constructed dams to reshape rivers, and nests in the tallest trees; built walls to hold back the hostile wilderness; ripped moisture from the air of barren, desert worlds; fashioned domes and tunnels and habitats to spread beneath oceans, across surfaces where the very air was corrosive, or to survive in the the deadly emptiness of space itself. More than that, in every environ to which intelligent life spread, they were never the first, preceded by an infinite versatility of life that had come to exist through chance, evolution, and stubborn ingenuity. Even in the vacuum blackness of the void between stars, creatures swam, and swarmed, crawling through asteroids, latching onto passing ships, or hurling themselves through hyperspace through means too mysterious to comprehend. They were all facets of one simple, fundamental truth.

Life finds a way.

Such was the case here on Bespin. By a fluke of chemistry, at certain altitudes, a band of breathable air existed in the upper atmosphere of the gas giant, and so life thrived, creatures of wild coincidence swooping from cloud to cloud, while intelligence forged vast islands of technology within which to prosper. Here on Cloud City, prosper took on additional meanings as well: for it was not merely enough for intelligent life to survive and thrive; it cultivated commerce, industry, art, and entertainment, in an impossible scenario where by any rational calculation, they were fools to even try.

Life did not only thrive collectively, either. More than five million sentient souls lived in this one habitat alone: five million individual stories of survival, of success and failure, of love and loss. To Usil Anansi, those stories were a fascination, one that almost bordered on addiction. Each was unique, and yet when viewed together, one began to see the rhyme and reason, the patterns and rhythms that shaped the cosmos, and destiny, and life. For many, it was easy to look back on a life lived thus far, and see regrets, see mistakes, see factors that begged to be changed. Usil saw none of those: for every action, every failing, every joy and every sorrow, was a path; and each pathway collided and conjoined, affected and entwined with those around it, changing trajectories in new and chaotic ways that none but the Force itself could ever truly hope to predict.

A sadness gripped him as he walked through the streets of Port Town, glimpsing through the eyes of those he passed into the souls that hid behind. For so many, there was a sorrow, a certainty that their life lacked meaning, that their existence lacked impact. It was life's greatest lie: through perturbations, large or small, each and every soul shaped the path of the future, each single minor existence out of the millions of trillions who had ever lived utterly and fundamentally responsible for the specifics of now, of yesterday, and of tomorrow. Each life, each death, each choice, and each change in some small, perhaps imperceptible, and yet undeniably essential way, changed the galaxy.

It was in that knowledge that Usil Anansi made his choices today. It was no small thing to make the decision that fate required a helping hand, to intervene through some action to make an attempt at improving tomorrow. Causality was chaos, and even the wisest and most intelligent beings in the cosmos knew that they lacked the understanding to even try. It was the lesser minds, the ones whose overconfidence blinded them to the reality of just how little they understood, who took actions such as these. Usil understood this. He had witnessed this, standing beside Darth Sidious as one of his Sun Guard during his machinations to bring about the downfall of the Galactic Republic, and give rise to what was, by a different name, a reborn Sith Empire. He had watched Palpatine's overconfidence consume him, his betrayal of Maul and of Tyranus in a quest for a stronger apprentice ultimately giving rise to the Skywalker who had died to bring about the Dark Lord's ultimate downfall. Sidious had been so certain, so judicious in the intricacies of his designs; but life had thwarted him, not by deliberate effort, but by accidental chaotic chance.

Usil did not consider himself the intellectual equal of Sheev Palpatine. For the most part, he watched, day after day, watching and learning the strands of the different stories that each soul wove as it was born from the Force of Others, journeyed through life, and ultimately returned. It wove a tapestry, and Usil chose to be content simply to watch the artistry at work: to know the design, and be satisfied in that knowledge. But there were times when threads seemed misplaced, stitches skipped, apparent faults in the design's implementation that seemed an affront to Usil's eyes. He was not arrogant enough to think himself capable or worthy of altering the design, and yet possessed the belief - or perhaps hubris - to feel that at times he could reach out to correct a defect, untangle a knot, or help the threads better fall into place.

That was today. The data module hung like a pendant beneath his clothes, crude robes that portrayed him as the kind of wealthless hermit that most eyes preferred to look away from than acknowledge. It suited him fine, allowing him to move through the Port Town crowds with relative anonymity. His gaze strayed away from the stories around him, focusing on the two that today he had chosen to seek: entwined together in a knot so intricate that not even a lightsaber could carve through it and sunder their connection. A faint flicker of a smile threatened his lips at the sight of it, of her arms wrapped around his as they walked, likely not even aware of the synchronised harmonies between their heartbeats and footfalls. This was intended to be an ordinary day for them. Usil would change that: not dramatically, but - he hoped - ultimately for the better.

First however, patience. His message was important, but not so urgent that he could bring himself to encroach on their bliss. Not yet, at least. Instead, he resigned himself merely to follow, and to watch the threads of their story unfold before him.

[Vittore Montegue]

Bliss.

That was the right word. It wasn't just a feeling, it was more than that. It sounded like the name of a drug, something you could get drunk on, and addicted to, and that was sure as hell how Vittore Montegue was feeling about now. Granted, the painkillers were definitely part of that equation; but in an hour or two they'd wear off, and Vittore would be a long way from sober, still intoxicated by the eyes, the smile, the voice, and the very existence of Sadie K'Vesh.

Jump back in time a couple of years to tell Vittore what his future held, and he wouldn't have believed you. Oh sure, he'd believe the cracked ribs, the scar of a gut wound, the hopefully temporary limp with a cane, and the body that pretty much hurt all over if he didn't dose himself often enough, all thanks to something stupid and reckless that he'd gone and done. But tell him he'd done that for a girl? Tell him that something mattered more to him than his mission? That there was more to his life than rage and revenge? That he spent his nights together with her instead of alone with his thoughts? That he'd cut back on drinking, afraid that the whiskey would rob his memory of each and every intricate detail of the precious moments that they spent together? He'd have called you a liar. In fact, he'd have punched you, then called you a liar, and then possibly shot you and tied you to a chair to torture out the truth of who sent you to try and deceive him with such absurd lies.

Reach back further, though? It had been there, once. Before life had broken him, before his father had disciplined the hope and happiness and optimism out of him, leaving only bitter cynicism and sarcasm in its wake, he'd been the wide-eyed romantic. He'd believed there was such a thing as the perfect girl, and he'd convinced himself that each and every crush, stolen kiss, and bathroom fumble might be her. Sometimes the deception lasted minutes; sometimes days; sometimes months; but it always faded, always failed, and in time - with Hugo's help - Vittore had simply stopped hoping.

They said that when you wanted to find something, often the best thing to do was to stop looking. It had always sounded like bullshit, but not now. Not here, today, walking - or at least, a limping approximation - through Cloud City with Sadie K'Vesh at his side. Not just at his side, either. As they'd left the clinic - a hard-fought and in Vittore's opinion long overdue release from medical captivity, with the promise and understanding that he would return after a few precious hours or if he started bleeding out, or limbs started dropping off, or anything like that - he had been brave, pushing past the hesitance that had existed between him and Sadie since Nar Shaddaa to take hold of her hand in his. She'd rewarded his efforts by latching onto his arm, wrapping hers around it with no intention of letting go. Vittore had no promise with that: if he could have welded her in place, he would have. He'd been spoilt these last few days, Sadie utterly refusing to leave his bedside for more than a few minutes at a time, and it was a new reality that he didn't want to end. It would have to, eventually: not for any sad or callous reason, but simply because their lives and work required them to be apart from time to time; but for now? If the reward for his injuries was the feeling of Sadie clinging to his arm in what to the outside must have seemed like a sickening display of public affection, then honestly Vittore was struggling to see the downside of having his ass handed to him.

His knee offered a sharp stabbing reminder as he placed the cane down slightly wrong, a little more weight than intended shifting onto that leg. He winced, but only the slightest amount, and only in the corner of his eyes, the rest of his features still firmly fixed in a contented smile.

"I'm just sayin'," he countered, continuing the conversation that had occupied the last few minutes of their slow but satisfying promenade towards the Sullustan restaurant that the events of recent days had previously prevented them from reaching. "Elysian is already payin' the medical expenses, an' if Doc Dechen has got the gear for stomach pumpin' just chillin' out in the clinic anyway, I say we just go all in on the most adventurous stuff on the menu, an' if worst comes to worst, we just get that junk sucked right out. Spare our butts and the 'fresher from receivin' the Mustafar treatment."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Sadie laughed. Not one of them hidden secret sorts but the kind that felt like it would split her right along all the seams she had. It came with words that didn't quite form the "Oh my kriffin STARS, Vitt!" but them sylables and sounds that did manage to escape were enough he'd get the gist. Not like they were a couple of prudes, and this weren't the first time they'd made such commentary on the food they was working round but, dammit Vittore, did you have to phrase it like that?

"Well yeah, but knowin' that creep he'd go an' make it a reason t' keep th' both of us there overnight f'r some observation dren an' up your required stay f'r a week or somethin'. And I dunno 'bout you, but 'm gettin' mighty tired of seein' them grey lifeless walls. Swear, once y're in th' full clear? We ain't never goin' back less our guts are literally fallin' out, yeah?"

She weren't lying. Both of them had now gone and spent far too much time under the care of the damn Doc for her liking. Yeah, okay, so it made for a grand excuse for sticking close by Vitt to the point where she was kinda getting spoiled by the others who were bringing her food and other stuff just so she didn't have to wander away, but it couldn't last. Not like that, anyhow. Sticking close to Vitt, though? Yeah, that was still doable as their current entangledness was right proving. And hey! If nothing else, it went and gave them both some damn much needed downtime to suss out their feelings and sort things and probably annoy the rest of their little family to all the Corellian hells and back. Which, fair enough, Sadie felt a twinge of guilt for, but when the alternate was not wrapping her arm around his whenever possible, staying by his side at all hours, or just this little bit of chitchat and banter? Frak 'em. The rest would just have to deal.

[Vittore Montegue]

Vittore could think of worse things than Sadie being forced to stay at the clinic overnight. So sure, she didn't exactly need forcing right now - hell, you practically needed a prybar to convince her to leave the room for bathroom breaks - and the fact that she was choosing to stay? That meant a whole lot more than Vittore's mind was even capable of processing in one go. But at the same time, lurking beneath the warm and fuzzies that her affection gave him, he knew that she was there because he'd gone and got hurt. She cared, but also, of course she was there. One of those weird obligations of caring about someone, you actually showed up and let them know. The sentiment was appreciated, and heart felt, and taken to heart; but at the same time, there was that uncomfortable lingering obligation in the back of his mind.

It was something that had been bugging him for a while now. Not a big deal, one of those small deals that lingered at the edges of your mind, sneaking in when you weren't looking to wham you on the back of the head. Sadie had a lot of reasons to be here. She had a job. She had her father. Her mother. Her uncle. Him. Family and all that stuff, that was a powerful thing, an important thing, and it meant more to Vittore than it happened to most. But unlike him, Sadie hadn't grown up around all of that. She was a loner, self-sustaining, and this weren't exactly her natural habitat. Most of the time, especially when those eyes and that smile were aimed at him, he didn't have a doubt in the 'verse that Sadie wanted to be here. But even if she wanted, it weren't like she'd exactly chose that. The bonds that held her here, were they feelings she wanted, or were they chains? Were they bars of a cage, and what would happen if they went and opened the door? Would Sadie stay, or would she fly away? If Vittore wasn't hurt, would she be so eager to spend every waking moment with him? If she weren't living aboard his ship, would she have a reason to come see him, or would he just be out of sight and out of mind, same as he was with the rest of the Exchange?

He didn't feel sad. It wasn't that he didn't believe Sadie cared - Force sakes, if she didn't go and prove it with every breath, she sure as hell did with her refusal to let him go, even now. It was something else. Something inside himself. It was one of those questions of faith, one of those times where you looked up at the heavens and begged the Force to give you a sign. He wanted a way to set Sadie free, to know that when she came back, if she came back, she was coming back to him because he chose it.

The thoughts faded away as Sadie squeezed his arm a little tighter, the very notion flushed from his mind in an instant, happier thoughts cascading back into his mind. He glanced over at her, the only hint of sadness in his mind the vague notion that the logistics just didn't allow him to lean over and kiss her right now. Other times he might have said nothing, might have kept his thoughts to himself, might have held his tongue for fear of crossing some line. They were past that, though. He was done with stopping himself from saying things to Sadie.

"I can think of worse things than you havin' to spend the night with me on Doctor's orders."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

"Problem is, I ain't real good at takin' orders from most, much rather go an' make up m' own decisions."

Them words could have been taken a great deal of ways, but the damn persistent smile that was on her lips, the way it went and left her all cheerful like, well it should have been downright clear how Sadie was gonna continue on, but she went and said it anyhow.

"Sorry, Cap'n. 'Fraid that bit of m' mind's been made right up on that one - y're stuck with me," She hugged his arm just a little tighter. "Days an' night an' all other times."

Was the sort of sight and sounds that her younger self would have made hellish faces at and Sadie would never have thought she'd ever be doing at any point in her life. That didn't go make it bad, but being one half of that sickly sweet cute couple thing was a new feeling and she weren't sure whether to be ashamed of herself for it or just kinda go with the flow and be amused that now she frakkin got it.

Her eyes went and trailed along one of the buildings, to a spot on a wall that looked like some wayward blaster fire smudge, to the gorram camera that Sadie knew was there. And in right proper childish fashion she stuck her tongue out at it, just a show for yeah yeah, I know you see this - shut your trap at anyone who may have been lurking in the Underworld keeping tabs on the two of them as they came within sight of the - hopefully not too aptly named - Pinyumb's Fire.

[Vittore Montegue]

Well damn if that didn't go making his ears all hot and flushed, and bring a big dumb smile to his face. Part of him was glad that Sadie wasn't looking, not wanting his bashful reaction to further damage his already compromised aura of capable manliness. Another part of him wished that she were, just on the off chance that it might give her reason to say stuff like that again.

It went and made him regret his decision, his insistence that they were damn well going to make it to the restaurant this time, without turd blossoms from their past showing up to ruin things. He stood by the sentiment - eff that guy - but now he wished he'd opted for something different, spending his few hours of freedom from the clinic not here with Sadie, but back home on the Tide. He'd thought he wanted to get out of there, wanted to be free of his medically mandated prison; what he'd really wanted was to be alone, just her, without doctors and droids and machines and whatever else buzzing around and watching them. He wanted her to himself; wanted her to have the same.

He watched her, provoking the security cameras; offered a brief wave to back up her sentiment. But she'd drawn attention to them now, and Vittore couldn't help scanning the surroundings for more. There weren't cameras everywhere - one of the more compelling reasons to spend your time in Port Town rather than elsewhere in Cloud City - but there were a whole bunch, some of them angled at things that were important, some of them subtly angled away on behalf of the patrons of certain establishments that wanted a little privacy. There was one by that cross-section; another watching the entrance to that market; there. Vittore spotted it, the recessed doorway of an abandoned building, tucked away on a short access alley a little ways ahead. He nudged Sadie in the direction, steering them off course into the surveillance blindspot, taking them off the grid for the briefest of moments.

The arm that Sadie had attached her to, that found its way around to her back, spinning her towards him and pulling her closer, his lips catching her as she arrived. The crutch fell from his hand, clattering to the floor, the freed hand taking hold of Sadie's cheek, threading into her hair, making sure she didn't so much as dare try to stop kissing him as they shuffled awkwardly onwards, bumping up against the wall.

Vittore tore his lips away with a gasp, forehead pressed against hers, eyes closed in sheer determined concentration to not let this moment fade away as a mere figment of his imagination.

"Sorry, I -"

He stopped himself.

"No, actually, I ain't. I kriffin' love you, Sadie K'Vesh, an' I couldn't go another second without showin' you."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Was weird to think they'd never really gone and kissed like that before, nor in the way that Sadie's arms went and moved around his shoulders as she pulled herself against Vittore for another round where she didn't want to waste on words or something like that. Not that she was avoiding going and saying the term back at him, far from it, but it was kinda nice to be able to be proper open about stuff. Not that they hadn't been but it wasn't the same.

Yeah they'd stolen little bits and pieces like this before, but that'd been in private, on the Tide, just him and her before things too heated and they'd settled down. This sort of thing though? This, okay so they weren't pawing at each other in pure public like, given the little shuffled off locale that Vitt had found for them but it was different. And that? Well that right there meant something. And if Sadie were right honest with herself? Well, she didn't mind it one damned bit.

Despite that unease of well public dren, Sadie got over it quick like enough. Didn't take much, just a few more kisses, just the feeling of Vitt holding her against him, just the way she went and tried to return gestures without doing no harm - okay, so the effort weren't really thought out to avoid touching places where her Cap'n were still hurtin' but was kind of one of them all over jobs and right then and there, well, Sadie didn't have much mind to go with a light touch.

Was probably a scene, the kind that made folks uncomfortable and make mutterings 'bout them two needing to go and get a room but frak 'em. They weren't experiencing this, they didn't know what it meant to the two of them and they sure as hell weren't gonna be privy to the way she was sneaking out words between breaths and the desperate, frantic, need to return her lips to his, to finally go and tell Vittore that she sure as frak loved him as well and he better not doubt that for a damn instant.

[Vittore Montegue]

Doubt? Vittore smiled against her lips at the sentiment conveyed in snatches of syllables. As if he could ever doubt or forget the most important fundamental fact of the universe, the one truth so desperately clung to that made his life feel worth living. It had been a hard time getting there, a long road towards the two of them admitting their feelings for each other, but once they had? Vittore would sooner doubt gravity, or the stars, or the idea that he needed air to breathe.

Maybe it was a sentiment he should have conveyed, but words were a struggle for Vittore. It wasn't a question of confidence, or intelligence. Vittore wasn't reluctant to speak, nor too stupid to muscle out the words. It was a matter of eloquence. There were people out there in the 'verse who could spew poetry like it was a bodily fluid, but Vittore lacked whatever gene or trait made that possible. He wasn't the kind to craft sonnets, or weave his feelings into song the way that Sadie did. He dealt in absolutes, certainties, blunt ideas and blunt words to convey them. Most of the time, it served him well, but for this? For Sadie? There wouldn't be enough profanities in a dozen universes to emphasise how much she meant to him, and how much it meant to hear her say that she felt the same. It shouldn't have mattered, and he knew that to Sadie even trying would be enough - but this was Sadie. Sadie gorram K'Vesh, or Ath-Thu'ban, or Aamoran, or about a dozen different aliases, or whatever words you wanted to string together to describe Vittore's singular perfect person. She deserved the kinds of words he felt ill-equipped to offer; but rather than guilt, or unworthiness being inspired in him by that knowledge, it simply filled him with a need and desire to become better, to live up to the one he loved.

Vittore broke away, just for a moment, just for a few inches. He'd felt desperation before, want, and craving, but this wasn't that. His lips weren't torn away, as if Sadie's kisses were all that mattered, because they knew that what Vittore saught instead was Sadie's eyes, and staring into those made his heart feel just as full.

"Don't think it's gonna be somethin' I go forgettin', but -"

A hand liberated itself from their embrace, brushing itself gently across her cheek.

"Would be lyin' if I said it wouldn't be nice to hear you remindin' me a whole heck of a lot."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

"Not gonna go an' try t' make it habit, yeah? Kinda worried I'll wear it out, won't mean th' same after th' eleventy-billionth time an'..." Sadie paused, letting one of them light barely made laughs leave her. "I'm all kinds a creative, but makin' up new words might be a bit beyond."

Would have been easier if she could put how she felt into melody, really. Yeah, Sadie had written her fair share of lyrics and the like, but she weren't really proud of them the way she was with the other bits. Music made sense to her, words were just... Okay, they had sound to them too but... Well, they changed didn't they? She knew how to go and curse in a ton of different languages, knew swears that'd make even the toughest bastard blush. But words for this? Nah, downright impossible to nail it with something so easy as love. Not to mention all them sappy romance holo connotations that came with it that already kinda tarnished the thing a bit. Still, was the best she had and so Sadie'd make due until she could come up with some sort of sound that meant more.

Was probably one of them dream things that'd never get actually done, kinda like her little side project of trying to express how the damned Force made her feel with notes and the like. She was wondering how much that melody would have to go and change with recent days and recent events and the like. After all, werne't like she'd gone and used it to any length to help her aside from code tweaking before... Not really, anyhow. But now? Well, now it was downright hard to ignore.

Which... Made it real damn hard to not notice the approaching figure. Didn't help that both her and Vitt were on high alert since the events that'd done gone and changed damn near everything and yet didn't at the same time. Sadie's felt the guy, but she knew Vitt was aware of him too. As their eyes went and met each other, it left her with no doubt. Frakking hells, couldn't the verse give 'em a damn break already?

[Usil Anansi]

Usil had been noticed. That much was evident.

"Ah," he offered, his eyes taking in the details of their physicality, body language, proximity, and another thousand details processed too quickly and too instinctively to list one by one. "I have invaded your privacy. That is unfortunate."

Slowly, Usil reached for his hood, careful to keep his movements slow, steady, and non-threatening. His history had trained him for the exact opposite, and today's mannerisms were a hard-fought force of will. One could see it, if one looked closely enough: the precision in his motions, the keen glint in his eye, the formidable figure that hid between unassuming loose-fitting robes. It took effort not to walk as if he was clad in armour, even in moments like the present where he was not. A lifetime spent learning to regard his armour like a second skin; a second lifetime spent attempting to unlearn the first. Such was the way of things. Such was the path upon which he found himself.

"I apologise for the intrusion, Saidra Ath-Thu'ban, but I have a message that requires the attention of your father."

His hand began to move towards his robe; he hesitated, visibly, making eye contact with Miss Ath-Thu'ban's self-proclaimed bodyguard. It was not prejudice to seek his permission, it was prudence: Vittore Montegue's reputation had begun to change in recent months, but that transformation was slow, and Usil had no desire to find himself on the receiving end of a regression he himself had provoked. Permission received with a wordless nod, he reached beneath the folds of fabric, producing a small metallic device. His impulse was to hand it to Miss Ath-Thu'ban, the intended recipient, but once again he deferred to the protective presence of Captain Montegue, placing the device in his hands instead. His eyes however remained fixed upon Saidra, and there was something strange about his words, a respect and civility that one might not expect from a stranger who had followed you into a secluded alley.

"It is entirely self-contained: you will not need to interface with your systems, so there is no danger of contamination. Perhaps take it to the Enclave, if you like: about as far from your network as it is fesible to get among these clouds. Just please, ensure that this information finds its way to your father. Dangerous times are approaching, and he will need you to be ready."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

On the list of What the ever livin' frak this ranked pretty damn high. The entire time the guy talked, Sadie knew she may have been the more physically able - given Vitt's current state - but she still tucked herself behind her Captain, just a smidge, enough to make it damn well known that however injured the hunter was, his pledge to protect her was absolute.

Seemed like the weird guy got the gorram hint right away though, which weren't really all that surprising; Not with how he'd called her by her mother's apparent high and mighty Alderaani name while referencing her far more humble paternal figure.

It's Aamoran, y' prick, Sadie couldn't help but think as the mystery guy kept rattlin' on.

Probably was some deeper meaning there as to why she was more accepting of the simple sort of surname that came from her pops than the downright princess or dutchess or whatever skrag that could be alluded to with her mum and uncle's baggage. Weren't like she were ashamed of all that. Was a part of her, like it or not. But Sadie'd been street raised, made accepting the less fancy stuff easier a bit, she guessed. Seemed more right. Not that Sadie would go and admit that sort of thing to nobody, K'Vesh was what she'd picked and where she'd stay right now thanks much.

All these thoughts came and went right quick, far faster than it took for the guy to even take a damn breath. But then something passed between the guy and Vittore, not just words but an object. Something that was entrusted to them, something for her dad.

Fact alone the guy knew about her dad was far more than Sadie ever needed to be cautious. But the words said weren't threatening, or scary. Okay, so putting in terms of her needing to be ready weren't something Sadie wanted and it didn't exactly sit right but was enough that she looked from the object Vitt was holding back to the guy.

"Yeah, okay."

Was the best she could do on account of being too damned freaked out to say much else.

"I'll make sure he gets it."

[Nen Lev'i]

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"Well, he weren't lyin'."

The seventh consecutive scanning gizmo was set aside, Nen's hand finding it's way to the back of his neck to scrub in a mix of confusion and frustration. Sadie had presented him with a mystery, and you didn't need to be mildly Force Sensitive to pick up on the fact that she was pretty grump and irritable about not having her bounty hunter shaped comfort blanket here with her, and so now Nen endured a sinking sense of dismay at the fact that he couldn't offer the kind of insight and clarity that would resolve this particular source of annoyance and irkation.

He'd done his part, Miss Shadowstar kept reminding him, because apparently sneaking up behind someone for a surprise decapitation was comparable to having the everloving kriff beaten out of you as part of some logically dubious attempt to save the woman you loved - but it didn't feel enough for Nen, somehow. There were a lot of people in the solar system of Nen's social circuits, and Sadie and Vittore were among the closest orbits to him at the centre, a pair of binary worlds dancing around each other so close that, like Onderon and Dxun, they almost shared the same atmosphere. What wounded one wounded them both, and this? This had wounded both of them, an asteroid impact that thrown the ecosystem of one into chaos, and tugged the other just that little bit closer. Right now, Sadie had been forcibly ripped away from her companion planet, and Nen ached with self-disappointment at the fact that he couldn't offer some enlightenment or proper reassurance to make that separation either shorter, or less uncomfortable.

"I ain't detectin' any active scannin', no redundant circuits, outta place chemicals, nothin' that remotely resembles any sort of transmitter or transceiver that I've ever seen..."

He shrugged, his face transforming the gesture into an apology.

"Seems to me like a regular old data storage device. Bit retro, but harmless. Looks like there might be an holo file in there, based on the charge concentration in the storage module, but that's the closest thing to a guess that I've got, without gettin' in there and tryin' to read the root directory. Think were jus' gonna have to plug it in, and cross our fingers that it int porn or somethin'. Pretty sure ours ain't that kinda friendship, right Sid?"

The subtle jester's smile that accompanied those final words evaporated in an instant as Nen's gaze shifted from Sadie to her father.

"Not that I'd wanna watch porn with you, neither, Master Aamoran," Nen added, with due deference and a liberal garnish of slight sheepishness.

[Sadie K'Vesh]

Sadie felt downright guilty for being here rather than back in the hospital room that'd practically become home these few days past. However, as much as she felt the draw there, the need to be at Vitt's side, there was a duty here that she was finding downright hard to ignore. Everyone had been real grand and patient with her, not forcing her to go and do much of anything, but that kind of life couldn't sit, couldn't hold for the long run.

Now it was the verse, in the guise of some mystery weirdo and a cryptic object that went and kicked her into action again. Sadie might have let it lie, shoved the object in a drawer some where and ignored it until it ate away at her, but it was the mentioning that it was for her pops that made that downright impossible.

The fact some mystery guy had found her was unnerving enough, what with the calling her of her probably proper name and all, but it was the fact he'd known of her father that'd really set the girl on edge. Sadie still weren't feeling quite herself though, otherwise mystery guy would have been tagged and tracked until there werne't no more mysteries to him.

But that hadn't happened and instead she was left with apparently some secret message for a dad that was supposed to be secret. Frakking hells...

"Doubt someone's gone an' put th' effort into givin' us some archaic bang fest, Nen. Funny as that'd be..." Sadie tries to make light of it, hang on to the joke that her friend had offered but it was downright hard.

She looked over her shoulder, towards the intended recipient and shrugged her shoulder a bit.

"Your call, dad. Guy said it was y're attention that it needed."

[Inyos Aamoran]

"I'm not sure why it would be an archaic bang fest," Inyos observed. "If the message is intended for me, it was likely recorded quite recently."

The statement was delivered in his usual sombre deadpan, but there was something about it that was different, something that had evolved over his time spent in the company of his daughter. It was the same something that encouraged the small and subtle smile to creep onto his features with every 'dad', or that led to the slow but steady evolution of his relationship with Sadie's mother. Elira called it 'lightening up', an expression that Inyos found problematic, particularly as he wrestled with the way his love, affection, and attachment clashed with the Jedi teachings seared into his brain. Such emotions were a gateway to the dark side, not the light, the Jedi Order insisted. Yet, not all Force Wielders agreed. Not even all Jedi, for that matter, as Inyos had learned first hand, serving alongside one of the Green Jedi of Corellia during the Clone Wars. They, or Ki-Adi-Mundi with his obligations to the preservation of his species, or Mace Windu with his Vapaad technique that skirted the dark side - they pushed the boundaries, exceptions that somehow didn't abate the Council's carved-in-neutronium attitudes towards the sanctity and specificity of the Jedi Code. The contradiction, never truly acknowledged by Inyos in his youth, now jarred with him. But, the Council of old was gone, and its replacement did not hold so strictly to those old ways. Perhaps it fell to individuals then to decide on the kind of Jedi they wished to be.

"Though it is wise to look before one leaps," Inyos added quietly, drawing upon an oft-quoted source of wisdom, "One must still leap when the looking is done."

His focus shifted, a curt mod inviting his daughter to take the next step.

"You are the designated messenger, Sadie. Let us see what message you have been tasked to convey."

[Sadie K'Vesh]

"Yeah well, things don't always go so shiny f' th' messenger." Sadie half mumbled in reply.

Bit of dark humor that she was coming to figure out had a chance of not exactly slipping past her Jedi Pop's sort of notice. She had to go and give him credit for that bit, even that little attempt of his own. Was one of them inconceivable things to try and relate towards somebody who hadn't grown up tossing out crass sort of jokes and commentary. Weren't like Inyos was ignorant of funny stuff, hells he'd spent how many years around her mum? But it still downright amused Sadie when he made the effort on joining on.

Sadie picked up the small device and gave it a big of an unnecessary but necessary twirl between her fingers - right, like she could make some sort of final decision that way. Yet it did kinda work. Much as she wanted to pitch the thing across the room and go back to things being all calm and semi peaceful for a lick, Sadie knew damn well curiosity would eventually come rearing it's ugly arse head and she'd be back here trying to find where the thing had gone and fell behind some box or under a desk or all other unbecoming places that'd involve way too long on hands and knees searching and getting irked at it's hiding. Nah, best to treat it like one of them adhesive bandage thingies and just make with the ripping and getting it done and over with.

"Right-o, let's do a thing."

She would be lying if she said she didn't go and make a cringe as the device was plugged on in. Much as Nen had confirmed the guys' assurance it weren't gonna mess with her system, still felt like a categorically bad damn idea. Cringe held as she waited the necessary few seconds, counting down to the expected moment of sparks flying and lights going out, but it never came. Not exactly a reason to go and relax but enough to keep going. Sadie reached out for the screen in front of her, a few quick taps telling her works to move on from just handshaking and make with the relaying.

What came next? Well...

The holoprojector at her desk lit up, blinked a few times before bathing The Underworld in soft blue light that wrapped the three folks sitting down there up in whatever it was trying to show. Was hard to tell when you were in the thick of it so Sadie rolled her chair back a few. The circles and blobs and points and all took on a meaning when you got a better look.

A map. One of them ones that showed stars and system and far more than Sadie was comfortable looking at at once. Reminded her how damned small she really was when it came to the Galaxy itself.

She reached out and poked towards one of the displayed planets that hung in the space between them all.

"A'right then. Weren't expecting that."

It looked like there were patterns, things labeled, but not in any way that made any sort of sense to the Padawan-Slicer-Whatever she was nowadays. Then again, message hadn't been for her. Sadie looked towards her Dad, waiting for that confirmation that the space mess before them was at least making some sort of sense to him.

[Inyos Aamoran]

While to Saidra the map might have been a generic representation of the galaxy she lived in, to Inyos it was like a fragment had been torn from his memory and made manifest. He had experienced maps such as this throughout his education at the Jedi Temple, interactive projections that allowed Younglings and Masters alike to explore the galaxy in virtual form. In his youth, Inyos had obsessed over such representations, studying the worlds of those he encountered. It had been the catalyst around which his friendship with Mandan Hidatsa had first formed: the two had been paired for sparring practice in their lightsaber classes, and upon completion Inyos had retired to the Archives, wishing to learn about the homeworld of the Jedi he had just fought. Mandan had followed him, confronted him, challenged him. If you want to know about where I am from, why not just ask?

Inyos allowed his eyes to be drawn to Naboo, and then followed it counter-spinward towards Bespin. Strange symbols, oddly familiar and yet somehow not, danced above the glowing representation of Bespin's star. Curiosity guided his hand outwards, gently touching the projection as he might have in the Archives. Immediately it began to glow, and with it, realisation dawned: the symbols were from the Enclave, the floating sky platform that the Force had chosen as the location to draw Inyos and his daughter together. The platform had once been used as a training enclave by the Atrisian Jedi, and had managed to escape the notice of Palpatine and his Galactic Empire. Before that, though? The platform's origins were mysterious, and ancient, engravings and signage written in a language with which Inyos was unfamiliar, and that refused to be readily translated. Yet here those glyphs were, implemented as if they were understood.

His attention shifted, straying to a different set of sigils, trying to conflate the indicated worlds with his personal knowledge of astrography. There was Coruscant, nestled close to the galactic core. There was Ossus, the planet that Inyos had recently departed. There was Ilum, the planet upon which Inyos had obtained the crystal that powered his lightsaber. Almas. Antar. Bpfassh. H'ratth. Lothal. Obroa-skai. Socorro. Even Dantooine, home to Padawan Nil'vak, one of the more fascinating students he had left behind on the Enclave on Ossus, raised a part of an obscure cult based on ancient Force traditions learned from the ruins there. The connections began to slowly resolve. "These are Jedi worlds," he uttered aloud, unable to keep the faint hint of wonder from his voice. "Or at least, worlds once affiliated with the Jedi Order. Temples. Academies. Enclaves -"

He faltered, watching is one of the stars he did not recognise began to faintly glow, almost as if in response to his voice. He frowned, head tilting to the side as he watched it, trying to will his memory into recall a Jedi Temple in that region of the Mid Rim. His memory refused. The pulsing star lured his attention closer, and Inyos reached out for it. Suddenly the perspective changed, the rest of the galaxy map tumbling away to fixate on a singular system. The unfamiliar alphabet was replaced with others: some information in Aurebesh, some in High Galactic, and some footnotes in other scripts. It was inefficient; deliberately obtuse; designed to be complicated at a glance, and yet resolve into clarity once studied over time. Fascinating, in other words.

"Etai," Inyos mused, vocalizing the most prominent label attached to the most prominent planet in the depicted star system. "I am unfamiliar with this world."

[Nen Lev'i]

Nen was already in action without prompting, hands rapidly typing commands into the console in front of him, searching through The Exchange's database for any references to a world with that name.

"Etai," he muttered to himself as he worked, eyes zipping across the information that scrolled in front of him, plucking out the relevant information. What surprised him was how - relatively speaking - little information there actually was. Sure, they had access to financials, news reports, birth records, things like that, but it was all generic stuff. When it came to scandal, or insight, there was nothing. It was like reading the dossier on a fake identity: enough information to check all the boxes and survive a little basic scrutiny, but not enough to really flesh someone out as a real person. Idly, Nen worried how that might work in the instance of a planet. Did places just swap out their names, and pretend to be other planets? What kind of scandal or danger might drive a world to choose to start a new life? Had the planet maybe been caught banging a neighbouring planet's moon, and the two of them had run away to a new star system together to live in peaceful anonymity without needing to constantly look over their shoulders for -

"Oh!"

The bloop of something relevant distracted Nen's attention away from that hyperspace lane of thought, and back to the screens in front of him. His brow furrowed. It was an alert, a note in the system designed to react if anyone searched for this particular planet, composed by Atton Kira of all people. That was weird. As one might expect, the note was as enigmatic and devoid of clarity as Atton Kira often was himself; simply the word crystals, and a link to a holonet article that Kira had apparently authored himself.

"There's a news thingy 'ere," Nen explained, offering context for his exclamation, "That Mister Kira wrote. Somethin' about the forced closure of the Etaan crystal mines by the Minin' Guild. Apparently, the Empire was supposed to 'ave been pullin' the strings behind it. Not sure why that's particularly relevant, but apparently Uncle Kira decided it was somethin' that needed to be seen if anyone searched fer this place."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Not Etai, but Etaan. Crystals. The subtle difference sparked something in Inyos' memory, faint recollections from the writings of Sadie's ancestor, Ra's Ath-Thu'ban, poetic encounters with a fallen Jedi, a Revanite, whose lightsaber struck like thunder, a quality that Ath-Thu'ban attributed to the Etaan crystal at the saber's core. His eyes settled on one of the glowing footnotes beneath Etai, written in Futhork script that Inyos had learned thanks to his friendship and kinship with Mandan Hidatsa. The words were simple, and obscure, but given the context, and the lengths taken to place this map specifically into his hands, the meaning became plain.

For her.

It could have been a trap, of course. Such elaborate deceptions were not beyond the means and methods of those who hunted the Jedi. The stories were frightening. Infants stolen by Inquisitors, preying on the compassion of the Jedi to flush fugitive Knights into the open. The bones of fallen Jedi Masters used to lure and bait Imperial traps. Genuine cries for help exploited to spring ambushes that claimed the lives of Padawan heroes. That the Empire might seek to exploit Sadie's connection to him was a genuine concern. That the mysterious Sarlacc might seek to retaliate against them both in light of recent events was all too likely. Yet, something urged Inyos to proceed regardless. If this truly was a trap, then better to spring it on Etai than let it be sprung here, where friends and family would be in harm's way. If this was not, on the other hand, then the prospect of crystals - of a resonant heart to fuel the lightsaber that his daughter both deserved and needed - was too tempting a prospect to ignore.

"Someone has gone to considerable effort to guide us to Etai. Perhaps it is a trap, or a distraction from our focus on Sarlacc... but personally, I tire of surprises. If this is a gift, we shall accept it. If this is a trap, we shall spring it. I am going to Etai -"

He hesitated, already preemptively feeling the reluctance he knew would surely follow.

"- and I wish for both of you to accompany me."