Emergence: Strange Bedfellows

Serena Laran rolled carefully out of bed, smoothing her waist length red hair away from her face and pulling on a pair of soft boots. It had taken a full day in hyperspace for the jump into Hutt Space, and their journey was soon to end.

It was the work of a few minutes to braid her hair and secure the thick coil to her head with some pins, and then the Jedi left her cabin to check on the only other occupant. She knocked gently at the door to Rhianna's room. "We are at our destination. I found you some more suitable clothing to wear, and you should find it on your chair. It may be a little long, as I am taller than you." There were some rustles from behind the door, but no answer, and Serena had to leave to monitor the ship as it exited into real space.

It would be trickier than normal, as the ship had been sitting in dry storage for approximately twenty years before leaving the planet known to the Empire as RX-271. It had been shot at and their deflectors were badly damaged, not to mention the fact that the woman was fairly certain that there was not another jump left in the outdated hyperdrive system.

And there was the small fact that she was a wanted human, voluntarily jumping into a system full of gansters, bounty hunters and people of ill-repute that would put a blaster bolt in her brain-pan as soon as they knew what she was.

A Jedi Knight of the Republic. The former Republic.

Forced out of hiding on RX-271 by the massacre of a gentle clan by Imperial Scoutroopers, she had rescued the only survivor and taken the girl to her Republic marked ship and blasted off the planet. She did not second guess her plan or her actions - she had made the best decision with what information and resources were at her disposal. Master Mundi would not have done differently. Master Kenobi might have, but he usually preferred to stand and fight no matter the odds.

At least, that was how she remembered him. Vaugely at best - anyway, she had been a girl of twenty-four, newly raised to the lightsaber when the Purge had begun.

She knew nothing of their fates, only hoped that some other Jedi had managed to survive the Purge of the Empire. Right now her first priority was getting her outdated Mon Calamari style yacht with Republic markings updated and repainted.

Nar Shadda was the best place for 'no questions asked' business, and she had plenty of money. She just didn't know if it was any good still. Serena handled the controls deftly as Serenity reverted to real space, the yacht shaking slightly and then settling as the sublights kicked on with an impressive squeal. The Jedi gritted her teeth, made sure the transponder was flicked off, and started her descent to the Smuggler's Moon.

It wasn't a rare occurance that Clive came to his ship depot on Nar Shadda to check up on things. It was just that after starting his smaller business on Corucsant, well, he wasn't seen here often.

He'd made the trip out only a few days before to get some extra supplies for the new shop, to check on some repairs being made to ships owned by "special" customers, and to have a few upgrades made to his own ship.

Having left his side kick, Raunkks, at the new shop had made him a bit uneasy. But he knew the big Barabel could take care of himself. Hell, with his slicing and hacking abilities, he'd probably know if the authorities were on to him before they even knew they were onto him.

Clive let out a sigh and leaned back in his office chair, propping his feet up on the desk and placing his hands behind his head.

Just another normal business day.

She needed a place to set her ship down quietly. The sublights were shot, however, and she had a feeling that the repulsors weren't in much better shape. Serena accessed the holonet through her antiquidated system, and found the names of a few likely places.

Guide me to the right one... The Jedi dialed up the first store with the ship's communication system, while heading towards the correct quadrant of the planet. The ship had settled into a lower orbit, and she was drifting as discretely as possible towards her destination. Well, what she hoped was her destination.

The transmission buzzed quietly through, and then a man's voice answered on the other end. He sounded bored. Serena licked her lips, a small show of nervousness. "Ah, yes." Her Basic was accented from two decades of speaking another language. "I need some work done on my yacht - and I need to avoid any unnecessary... Imperial entanglements."

"One moment." The technition put the woman on hold and flipped on another channel, calling his boss.

Clive had dozed off somewhere between thinking of the new additions to his ship and thoughts of a scantly clad Twi'lek he'd seen a few days ago at a bar when his comm buzzed. It startled him out of his doze, nearly toppling over his chair. Swearing and righting himself, he slapped the comm. "What?"

The tech didn't seemed phased by the annoyance in the boss's voice, as if it was the way he always answered the comm. "Some woman wanting special repairs to her ship."

Clive grunted and flipped on the monitor to his computer, contecting to the tech's. "Check the ship's tags." Clive kept the line open, but muted it on his end so he could hear the conversation.

The tech switched back over to the woman. "I'll need to have the identification numbers for your ship please."

"Ah... that might be a problem. My internal computers are antiquidated, and it's been giving me trouble when I try to access even the most needed information." Serena had the ident numbers right in front of her, but it was never a good idea to enter potentially hostile waters with a big sign broadcasting "ENEMY OF THE NEW ORDER."

There was a pause on the other end of the transmission, and she added, "My ship is called Serenity - I do know that it was once registered to the Republic."

“Boredom inspires people to do dangerous things.” – General Therridan’s Soldiers and Ships

Morgan had returned to Nar Shadda after his stint on Corellia, deciding to hide in plain sight. He wasn’t frequenting any of his normal haunts, but he was planet-side, and that was plain enough for him.

Overwhelming curiosity had him jacked into a “shipwright’s” business. Most of the work done was of sketchy legality at best, much like the rest of Nar Shadda. He listened to the conversations below through an earpiece on the roof of the building, and ate cheese puffs.

Quote:

---

"My ship is called Serenity - I do know that it was once registered to the Republic."

---

This would be interesting to look at.

Clive listened as the tech continued to speak to the woman.

"One moment while I look up the name." He was off the comm no more than a few seconds when he came back on the line. "Looks like your ship is old, miss. Anything in particular you'd like done to your yatch?"

Clive's other line started beeping and he looked over at it. It was Raunkks. Sighing, he switched over. "Make it quick. Potential customer on the line and all that jazz."

Raunkk's holographic image nodded. "I wasss checking the sssecurity sssyssstemsss, and a blur on one of the sssecurity camerasss. Sssomeone may be monitoring."

Clive nodded. While they kept their systems as tight as possible, every now and then an intelligent individual would find a way in. "Here at the hidden facility or at our family friendly garage?"

"Family friendly." Raunkks said.

"Right." Clive responded. "Thanks for the heads up."

Raunkk's nodded again and signed off.

Clive switched back over to the conversation. Apparently, the tech was waiting for the woman to get back to him on what specs she was looking for to upgrade her ship.

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The Jedi Knight explained, "I need a complete systems overhaul. Some of the fluidics are -"

The tech coughed, counting up the credits that even a halfway functioning Republic-era fluidics system would garner from a collector, "You have a fluidics system? And you got here on it?"

Serena frowned, "...Yes. I need the ship repainted as well. There are certain... insignia on it that draw more attention than I care for. And the hyperdrive and navcomp are shot."

She paused for the deal breaker. "I can pay in Republic credits."

fptppftppt Morgan spat orange saliva all over the permacrete.

"Republic credits." He marveled at the concept for a moment before he disolved into hard laughter. Had this person been spaced in the wilds for the last twenty years?

It sounded like they'd need a slicer for the ship's ID codes, though. A paint job wasn't going to cut it. And a fludics system? That was old when the clone wars started. Many vessels still existed from the era, but no one ran something with a cranky fluidics system if they could help it. This was an opportunity to do something interesting.

The tech choked back on awe that the ship had made it this far with what the woman had been describing. And Republic Credits??

He could only imagine Clive falling over his chair laughing back at HQ.

The tech cleared his throat. "We can certainly make all the repairs and changes you request, but paying with Republic Credits is going to be a little more difficult. An extra charge will have to be made for that as most banks don't exchange Republic Credits easily, and it will take time to find one that does."

Serena frowned, but charging more was better than refusing completely. She was not one to hope, but she certainly was hoping that the Republic credit had retained at least most of it's value since her exile. As she'd been shot and left for dead during a humanitarian mission, her ship had been outfitted with enough credits to finance rebuilding a village, albeit a small one.

"That is acceptable." Serena's ice green eyes looked behind her, in the direction of the girl she'd started considering her padawan. Rhianna spoke not a lick of Basic, and would have to be protected from whatever predators lurked on Nar Shaddaa. If she could have left her in her cabin, she would have considered it. "You will have to give me the landing coordinates verbally - I am going to have to fly in manually."

The tech did so, with what seemed to be a snigger, and the Jedi Knight piloted the decrepit yacht into the atmosphere of Nar Shaddaa.

The coordinates the tech gave her were to the family friendly garage where he was stationed at. Once he'd given the woman the coordinates, he flipped over to the other channel where Clive waited.

"Well, boss, there you have it."

"I heard." Clive rubed his chin. "Start searching for a bank that will exchange the Republic Credits. I'm definitely intrigued as to why this woman is still carrying such decrepid currency. But it should still serve the purpose of getting us paid." He paused. "Oh, and make sure we don't get raped on the exchange rate."

"You got it, boss." The tech was about to sign off, when Clive caught his attention once more.

"And one more thing. Have a hauler brought into the garage. We're going to need to haul her ship into the main docks at HQ for the repairs she was talking about. Sounds like this ship is as ancient as they can come."

"On it." With no further instructions from Clive, the tech signed off, and called in a mechanic to await the inbound ship in hangar number two. Once the mechanic had departed to await the ship, the tech got to his duties of calling the hauler and then the banks.

The coordinates were on the other side of the district.

He grabbed his equipment and sprinted to his speeder: a nice, midsized model that was exceedingly quick stock.

The airspeeder came to life with a quiet snarl, and the trademark bark of an opposing pulse repulsor system echoed against the towers of Nar Shadda as he flattened the accelerator.

He'd have to wait until the ship's captain left the shop. She'd probably want to get supplies. Something that old would take a while to refit.

She'd had to hand over her life savings (from an account frozen by the Empire many years previously, but she had managed to have most of it sliced out before she went into hiding. She'd left it in a few Republic credit chits, all safely stored in her cabin, for a rainy day. Well... it was pouring now.) to the clerk at the garage she'd managed to get Serenity landed in.

Rhianna followed closely behind her, taking in everything in silence. Serena had instructed her to listen, not to talk, and the girl was obeying thus far. Thank the Force. After hearing how long it was going to take, the Jedi asked about a place to rent a room for herself and the gypsy girl.

They were directed to a place not far from the garage, and Serena thanked the clerk for the information. "I would like to talk to the owner of this shop today. I need assurances against my information being... mishandled."

The tech took in a deep breath through his nose before letting it out. "I'll see what I can do about getting the boss down here to meet with you. He's at another facility at the moment."

That seemed to satisfy her for the time being, and she left him a contact number where she could be reached.

He went back into his office. Upon entering, he noticed his comm blinking and reached over to answer it. "Yeah?"

"Sir, the hauler you requested is here."

"Yeah, thanks. Have it hold for a few. I gotta get the boss on the line."

"You got it."

The tech switched to another line and called Clive.

----------

Clive was just walking back into his office after grabbing a quick bite to eat, when his comm buzzed. The caller ID showed who it was and he answered. "What?"

The tech took in a breath. "Hauler's here, but I'm having it held. The woman that left the ship requested to see you today. Something about making sure her ship isn't mishandled or something."

Clive rolled his eyes. "Alright. I'll be there in a few."

Clive signed off, sighed, grabbed a few things, and made his way to his speeder in a small, off-shoot hangar adjacent to the main one.

On his way to his speeder, he got another call on his comm. This time it was from a distinctive reptilian voice, one he knew all too well.

"I wissshed to inform you that I wasss on my way to Nar Ssshadda. There are a few upgradesss I wisssh to make to the sssyssstemsss... and to check up on that anomaly from earlier today. I ssshould be there in a few hoursss."

Clive nodded to no one in particular as he slid into the drivers seat of the speeder. "Sounds good to me. Give me another buzz when you get into town."

There was an affirmative click on the other end before Raunkks signed off.

With that, Clicve zoomed out of the garage and into the busy airways of Nar Shadda, headed towards their family friendly garage on the other side of town.

Serena gathered her new padawan and their bundles and made it to the hotel just down the way. They had switched out of the native clothing of Rhianna's home planet and were garbed in what appeared to be greviously outdated clothing.

At the sight of the tight canyons between buildings and the whine of speeder traffic, Rhianna clung tightly to Serena's shadow. Her sense was not of one terrified, but of awe. "Do not get lost, Rhianna." Serena herded the wide-eyed girl into the lobby of the hotel.

A green tinted protocol droid greeted them. "Greetings gentles, a room?"

"Please." Serena didn't bother smiling as the droid would not be offended. "I need one for two nights, with the option for longer if necessary. My business needs fluctuate." She slapped the tinceir girl's hand away from the shiny stylus that guests signed in with. Rhianna opened her mouth, and the Jedi shot her a look that brooked no nonsense and called for silence.

"Certainlee, ladiees, room 263 on the second floor." It gestured jerkily towards the turbolifts. "Rooms are a hundred credits a night for two."

Laran blinked. Inflation seemed not to have affected the New Order, but if prices were being kept low even here on the Smugglers Moon it meant that the Emperor was tightly controlling commerce. Stagnation would surely be the consequence of such arrogance. Republic credits, however, were worth a little more than half of the newer Imperial credits. "Can you exchange credits here?"

"Certainlee. What currencee do you carriee?" The droid's voder had been imprinted with a strange accent. Or it was just wearing out.

"Republic." She was glad that no one else was in the lobby. Just as the thought crossed her mind the door jangled and Rhianna touched her elbow.

"Visitor," the girl spoke softly in her native tongue.

"Certainlee, Imperial exchange to Reepublic ees one to three."

Her right eyebrow raised slightly. "It is not. It is one to two."

The droid's expressionless face swung towards the door. "A better price you weel not get on the Smugglers Moon, ladiees."

"Very well." Serena pulled a credit chit from her pocket and placed it on the counter on the liquid screen of the sign in book. "Please exchange this amount for Imperial."

"Certainlee." The droid reached for the chit, servos whirring in it's joints. The only good thing about droids was that usually they were programmed not to ask too many questions. But on Nar Shadda, who knew that information it was squirrelling away to send to it's owner.

Serena looked him over like a mother bear with a cub as he went to check on the exchange rate for Aurodium and the New Order’s credit.

“I saw your ship on the way in. Interesting vessel. Interesting transponder code, too. I know of a good tapcafe a few blocks from here.”

“She doesn’t speak a word of basic, does she.” He stated quietly to the tall redhead. Morgan smiled at Rhianna, and looked back at Laran.

He was overly curious, and his questions were leading.

She didn't have the time, or the energy to spend on bounty hunters or other low level scum. Well, she might of had the time, but certainly not the energy. With little effort the Jedi Knight fixed her cool green eyes on the man and tweaked the Force gently, just enough.

"My ship is no concern of yours. You will go to the tapcaf and get yourself a drink."

The droid handed her the room keycard, which she gave to Rhianna to hold.

For a brief moment, going to the tapcaf seemed like a really good idea. A drink would be perfect. Some iced down daquiri in a mug. Yeah.

Then the overwhelming boredom set in again and the fact that he wanted to see how the old ship worked returned.

"I don't think you get my meaning. I'm bored, and I haven't touched a transponder in about a year, much less one so old. Besides, the soup is worth it."

Clive's speeder touched down lightly on the floor of the garage's hangar bay, next to the old ship that had been l;eft here only moments before.

He got out of the speeder and proceeded to walk around the ship. As he neared the nose, he saw the tech standing there and greeted him. "Ah, Jackson. So this is the ship, eh?"

"That it is, boss. The woman only left about fifteen minutes ago, and she left this contact number." The tech handed the information to Clive.

"Ok." Clive looked at the number and then back at the ship. "Have the ship prepared for transport to HQ. But don't do anything after the preparations. I want to be sure this woman is satisfied with what she has requested of us to do to her ship."

"You got it, boss." The tech turned around and began barking orders to nearby lackies to prepare the ship. He likewise gave direction to the hauler's pilot to position his ship to transport the old vessel.

Clive gave the ship one last look before making his way to the tech's office where he would place the call. Normally, he wasn't so careful or attentive with costumers. He normally left that to other representatives he would send in his place.

But he was sure this woman had a grand story to tell. And the ship was the first key to his curiousity.

Finally reaching the tech's office, he sat at the desk, and key'd the comm number into the desks comm panel. He waited patiently for the response.

Her eyes narrowed. "You have information you could not have gotten legally. You should also know that I do not do business with criminals."

Serena thought about the shop she'd left Serenity in, and amended, "When I can help it." Her commlink buzzed and she held up one finger to keep the man in place and answered it. "Mr. Jerrard, I have been expecting your call. There is a tapcaf near here, perhaps you'll allow me to buy you a drink while we talk business."

Her tone said it wasn't a question, and the man indicated that he knew the place and agreed to the meeting after a moments hesitation. The Jedi Knight looked at the tall man across from her, who was giving Rhianna a wink. "Let me get her to our room, and you will show me where this tapcaf is. A little trust may take us a long way together, or it may simply make your life shorter."

Her words were not a threat, but a simple reality. The return of the Jedi to the Empire was bigger and more important than the life of a single slicer, which was what the man had to be. His skills might be useful to her, and there was something about him...

Morgan countered with a shrug. He was used to being threatend by now, even with people who genuinely meant it on some level.

When Laran returned, he led her to the tapcafe, which did really serve great soup. No breadbowls this week, the Imperials were being uptight about the flower shipment from Chandrila. Mushroom soup with water to drink.

"Lots of electromagnetic interference here. The cafe is sitting on a noisy main junction and the mixers they have in the back make a big field. That and the soup is quite good."

"I had a decent look at your ship as it came in. Got pretty tangled. All I can tell is that you've been out of the loop for at least 20 years. Maybe a Republic expedition to wildspace." He leaned back, suspecting it was more complicated and interesting than that. "But I understand it's really none of my bussiness, and I know nohing about a Republic ship, nor a tall, intimidating redhead."

"You may call me Laran." She pronounced it la-rahn. "And you are correct on a few points. I am out of the loop." The Jedi sipped her water, which had a metallic tang that she was unused to.

"I do need some transponder work done, as you have guessed. I came here because Nar Shaddaa is the place for work like I need - and no unecessary questions." She looked up as the door opened, but it was a woman, not the man she had asked to meet there. Their soup arrived, mushrooms in broth. If there was one thing Nal Hutta had a lot of, it was fungus.

"Transponder issues shouldn't be hard to correct. Best thing to do is find a vessel of similar capacity and run with that. Light frieghters that aren't servicable anymore will be easy to buy for spare change. With a swap out of the fluidics system, there could be enough of any ship in yours that it won't raise an eyebrow, especially if you have a Nar Shadda registry. Just don't scrape around Coruscant too much. Obviously." He spoke between spoonfuls and sips of water.

"Jerrard has a few of his own slicers, but they're just not up for it and I doubt either one of them has seen a Republic transponder. They mostly do navicomp work and astromech interfaces. One thing that his shop does do right is engines." Jerrard's tech's didn't poke or prod too much, his shop had an unusual rep of not selling information on the side. Many ships owned their own mechanics just to keep information where it belonged.

"Laran, I'm honestly in a bit of a strange spot. I'm not really supposed to be on Nar Shadda." Morgan looked a little worried as he mentioned that.

"I'm bored out of my head though and I love working on old transponders."

Serena cracked a wry smile, "As you've said." She spooned some more soup into her mouth, swallowing thoughtfully. Serenity would need some major transponder work - anyone with half a brain would be able to reconstruct her wipe-job and trace the ID to the Jedi temple. The former Jedi temple.

Which meant that this man would be able to, as well. Silence didn't come cheap, as was evident from the steep price she was being charged at Jerrard's. And she didn't exactly have credits to throw around.

"You aren't supposed to be here, and you haven't given me a name." She regarded him from over her glass of water, the Force tickling at her brain. "Which tells me you have a few secrets of your own you don't want getting out." The Jedi set her glass down on the table.

"I don't have the credits to pay you for the work, but if you would like a ride off this moon when the repairs are complete - I'm heading for Alderaan next."

"My name is Morgan, and I'll take the ride for the transponder work. I don't have a ship of my own and I'd rather not have to sneak onto another bulk frieghter. But you can't head to Alderaan. Alderaan is dust." he said with a frown and a hint of sadness.

The Jedi stared at him for a moment, not comprehending. An unsettling feeling of horror crept over her at his words. "Dust? I do not under- what of Senator Organa? Was the capital city destroyed?"

Morgan made a sweeping motion in the air above his place at the table.

"Alderaan is an asteriod belt now, thanks to a hyperspace capable battlestation. I wouldn't believe if I hadn't seen the pictures. Rumor has it Vader and the Emperor perished when the Rebel Alliance took out the second battlestation. That's pretty much the short of it." He took a few more bites of soup. Laran looked composed, but underneath she was fighting emotion down. He didn't really understand why. Most people who knew someone on Alderaan cried when the news broke.

"Impossible." The word was softly spoken. Serena blinked a few times, shuffling away the mix of emotions the news of Alderaan's demise had awakened. There would be time to deal with them later, especially with the anger that had unexpectedly spiked underneath the sorrow and disappointment.

She had dealt with her anger completely during the first five years of her exile - it hardly seemed possible that she had more inside her. But there it was, bubbling under the surface like a volcano. The Jedi blocked out the emotion, and returned her attention to the information at hand. "The Emperor is dead? What of the Empire then? Is the Senate still intact?"

"The Emperor dissolved the Senate about 4 years ago. Not like it was worth anything anymore. The outcome of the elections were rigged, and when the Senate was asked to dance they did a waltz. Except for a select few. The Empire is pretty much a police state that recongizes the need of commerce. The Rebellion has picked up traction lately, and someone else is keeping the Moffs from being at each other's throats. So for now, things are somewhat stable."

The Rebellion. So there was hope. Other Jedi, if any survived, would surely seek out those who rebelled against the Empire. If not to take part (the Clone Wars were a recent reminder of the folly of the Jedi taking part in galactic war), then for refuge.

Serena finished off her soup, and looked towards the door, wondering what was taking Jerrard so long. "There is something else I need - ident cards for myself and the girl. Not the dren I could buy on the street, but good ones that will check out under scrutiny." She left their previous conversation as though it had not existed. "Are you staying somewhere nearby?"

"That won't be a problem. I know of a guy, doesn't like asking questions, just charges a lot and does great work. And no, not especially close by. I have a good airspeeder."

Serena flagged down a serving droid and ordered a meal to go. Rhianna would be hungry too, and the soup was good. It was not unlike some of the food from her home planet. Turning back to Morgan she tucked a stray lock of hair from her braided bun behind her ear. "Since Alderaan is... gone... I may have fewer options as to my destination. Are there any other planets that have been... destroyed?"

The thought of worlds being turned into asteroid clusters turned her stomach, but she had to know. How much had the galaxy changed since she'd removed herself?

Morgan half shrugged.

"Alderaan is the only one that anyone really cares about. They hit a few settlements on Dantooine, but as a whole..." Another shrug. ""No more superlaser battlestations blowing up planets. They'll have to do it the old fashioned way. Things have felt different since Endor. I dunno." Morgan shook his head. That feeling was something he didn't understand.

"If there is anything you want help with, let me know. The sooner I say goodbye to this pit the better."

"I know the feeling." Superlaser battlestations. A Dhia dhílis! The Jedi laced her fingers together in her lap as a tall dark haired man entered the tapcafe. "Ah, it looks like Jerrard has made it."

Serena looked at Morgan, "Can you see about the ID cards for me? I need them as soon as possible."

After a short business conversation with the man who was being trusted with Serenity, Laran gathered the to-go meal for Rhianna, paid, and made her way back to the hotel. Jerrard had been curious, but she was sure that even if he did poke about too much in her ship, she would be safe from Imperials. At least, while he was receiving her credits and working on her ship. Afterwards...

She'd also let him know she had someone to work on the transponder issues, so that was taken care of. Morgan was supposed to get back to her with how much it would run her for two ID cards, and she was going to have to get holos taken of herself and the girl.

But that was in the morning. For now, she would feed Rhianna, and then give the girl her first lesson in the Force. Meditation was a way to cure ills, and relieve stress. It was a building block upon which most other Force disciplines rested. It was also something that Serena would have to do a lot while they stayed on Nar Shaddaa.

Getting the ID cards was easy, like he said. A Bith and probably a Verpine worked on them. You gave some physical data so there were no stupid slipups, a small pile of credits and they gave you a registered identity that showed under all but the most intense scrutiny. It was a strange system of actually getting the credits and data out. There was a tapcafe you went to, you ordered a specific meal, emptied a specific container, put the chits in that, and threw it away in the bathroom trash can. You ordered the same thing the next day and got the IDs in the rice, which clicked in line with a Verpine’s sense of humor. The food was mediocre even for Nar Shadda, but he had been hungry so he ate the salty glop anyway.

He knocked on Serena’s hotel door the next day, container of rice and more soup in hand. He also had a proper camera for doing the picture for the IDs.

Standing on the other side of the door, Serena peeked through the peep hole to verify that there was no danger on the other side. Seeing Morgan she stepped back and opened the door.

As it slid aside, she drew her long red hair over her shoulder and smiled. "Morgan, good day."

Rhianna was sitting on the edge of the second bed, finger brushing her curly auburn hair. She smiled to see the handsome young man again, but was too shy to attempt the greeting Serena had taught her. The door closed behind their visitor, and the Jedi looked at the camera. "I take it you had no trouble then?"

“It was wonderfully uneventful.” He set the food down, and smiled briefly at Rhianna before turning to take a quick glance at the walls. They were plain white, which was a great boon.

“With too much harsh, artificial light, we should be able to do perfect ID photos.” He opened the rice container, stuck his hand in, and pulled the IDs out.

“But first, we can eat. After that I’ll say stupid things to annoy you both so the pictures come out correctly.”

Serena smiled at the joke, and called Rhianna to the little table that was in the corner of the room. They had spent most of the morning watching the holonews, trying to get both of them acclimated to the galaxy that now surrounded them.

There were only two chairs, but Morgan sat on the closest corner of the bed. Rhianna dug into the meal, but Serena studied their benefactor. "Morgan, I feel that... you aren't just helping us because you want a ride out of here." The skin around her eyes tightened a bit as she looked into his green eyes. They were brighter than hers, a vivid color that suggested a discerning spirit.

Serena dipped a spoon into her soup, and brought it to her lips.

Morgan stopped eating and almost set his spoon down. As far as he knew, he just wanted off.
“Oh. Ok. I guess you found my fondness for Old Republic transponders.” He was only being half-sarcastic. He took another spoonful of soup.

“Unless you know something I don’t, that’s pretty much as far as it goes. I’m here until I get a way off, and this seemed to be a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Unless you know something I don't... Serena caught a frown before it creased her brow, and dipped her spoon back into the soup. "And it is. Jerrard told me that with the extra help on the transponder it should only take about two weeks to get the ship up to speed."

His face tickled at her mind, as though a future memory of the man was trying to impress itself on her. She would have to be more careful with her words. What she had sensed could have been that he would try something with Rhianna, or it could have been that he was going to sell her out to the Empire. In any case - it was something that hadn't happened yet. Something important, or trivial, but it had to do with Morgan.

They finished their meal, and Morgan helpfully snapped their holos. Serena studied hers as he lined Rhianna up for having her holo made. Rhianna looked a little worried, but was delighted at the end result, chattering in her native tongue to Serena about her likeness.

He smiled while Rhianna babbled in her otherworldly tongue. While he picked up languages easily, he only recognized what seemed like a few familiar words in Old Corellian Trader-ese. Everything else was either changed or pronounced differently or too entirely butchered for him to guess either way. As nice as she made it sound, Rhianna’s lack of Basic could easily turn into a big problem if she were separated from Laran.

“I managed to cobble together the parts I’ll need to do the transponder modification. Now all we need is some old light freighter to purchase on the cheap.”

The Jedi frowned. "Not to tell you your business, but... why do I need to buy another ship? If I had wanted to do that, I would not be having mine repaired."

She waved a hand at Rhianna, who shushed, listening carefully to the conversation. Serena had explained to her that listening to a language being spoken, and trying it herself was the best and quickest way to pick it up herself. It would probably take a few days before the girl felt comfortable enough to try the strange tongue.

"You don't need the ship, but you do need proof of ownership and transponder codes. We'll find some heap and buy it at maybe a third of what the owner asks initially. Then we sell whatever works to break even. There are so many half-baked ships here that the Imperials either can't tell the difference or don't care." Morgan explained.

"It won't cost much, as long as we offer to move it off of wherever it is."

"Ah." It was too late to pretend that the cloak-and-dagger lifestye was something she was used to. "Then, if you are ready, I think we should get to it. The sooner we are away, the better." Serena gathered a woolen cloak, regrettably in a dark brown, and pulled it on over her ivory colored jumpsuit.

As promised, the alterations and repairs to Serenity took a little under two standard weeks. With Morgan doing the transponder work it shaved a day or two off of the estimated time she'd been given by Clive Jerrard. The owner was not around when Serena, Rhianna and Morgan arrived at the shop to reclaim the yacht.

The Jedi ran a long-fingered hand along the smooth hull of the ship. All of the Republic markings had been covered with an all-over coat of new paint, but it was still the same ship. And, thanks to Morgan's savvy, she had more credits in her pocketbook than she'd expected to come away with. She keyed the ramp open, and turned to Evanar as Rhianna walked into the ship, arms laden with supplies.

"Rhianna and I will share my cabin while you are traveling with us." Serena gestured him up the ramp and inside, following behind him. "You may have the other."

[con't here]