Head in the Clouds

[Kale]

Alexei Simonov stirred uncomfortably on the hard bench and its thin cushions. His bearded face was pressed against a bulkhead, and there was a flashing light on the other side of his eyelids. Grumbling, he shook himself awake and tried to straighten out his aching back.

He blinked in surprise at the sight of clouds out the viewport and the shafts of sunlight passing through them like a strobe. "What!" he croaked. "We're not to Subterrel already?"

The youth who shared the cabin with him - a small, scrawny teenager with messy, mouse-brown hair, was sitting lengthwise on the opposite bench, his knees tucked in front of him, leaning on his tattered synthfiber backpack, staring out the viewport at the passing towers of cumulus and cirrus and the orange-pink curtain of sky beyond. "No," he said. "You musta slept through the announcement. They diverted us to Bespin. Somethin' wrong with the hyperdrive."

"What? Diverted?" The old man reached with an arthritic hand to steady himself on the handgrip by the bench and leaned for a better look out the window. "No, no, they can't..." He squinted into the sunlit clouds, and the light burned his red-rimmed eyes. "We were headed for Subterrel! Where did you say we are? Bestine?"

"Bespin," the boy repeated patiently.

"No," Alexei said. "My ticket... my ticket's right here..." He pulled the flimsy out of his coat pocket, as if showing it to his cabin-mate would make the brown skies of Subterrel appear in the viewport. "I'm on my way to Mantle City. My nephew, Dmitri, offered me a job in his mining company."

"So I've heard," the youth replied.

"No jobs left on Moorja," Alexei pottered on. "The Imperials have taken everything over. I grew Fenti beans there, you know. The Empire took the land, gave me a pittance. You don't suppose there'll be a refund?"

The teenaged boy shrugged and laid a hand over his heart - no, wait, Alexei squinted and saw there was something beneath his shirt hanging from his neck on a thin, leather cord. A keepsake, perhaps.

"This ticket took all I had," the old man said despondently. "Bespin. What's on Bespin?"

The youth took a deep breath. "Floating cities... gas miners, tibanna refineries, trading ports, hovering spas, that sort of thing."

"Gas mining," Alexei mumbled, and he coughed painfully. "Maybe I can learn that. I know nothing but farming. I should have been smart like you, traveled when I was young, seen the galaxy. I suppose this must have thrown a spanner into your plans as well."

The boy's hand closed over whatever it was on his leather necklace. "Yeah, it did," he replied sullenly.

Alexei straightened up - as much as he was able - and a frown crossed his weathered face. "Why were you headed to Subterrel?"

The boy pursed his lips. "I was lookin' for something," he said.

The old man waited for him to elaborate, but he never did. Docking pylons passed by the viewport; the transport was pulling into a berth somewhere.

Alexei watched as a mooring cable snaked into view. "Still have a few credits left," the old man said with a sigh. "Hope it's enough for a room for the night. Does it get cold here?"

Suddenly the boy looked uncomfortable, as if he'd just remembered something. "I dunno," he said. "Hey, uh... while you were sleeping, I think you mighta dropped your wallet."

"Hmmm?" Alexei looked down and reached into his hip pocket, perplexed. "No, I don't think..."

"Oh, look, here it is," the boy said, producing a nerfhide billfold from - well, Alexei hadn't seen where he'd gotten it. "You might wanna put it in your coat pocket," he added. "That way it won't fall out so easy."

The old man took the wallet gingerly and opened it to see his identicard staring rheumily back at him. "How did that..."

The transport drifted to a halt against a Cloud City docking port, and the boy hopped up from his seat and slung his backpack onto his shoulder. "Well, see ya, gramps, hope it works out for you. And, uh... may the Force be with you." The youth slid open the door of the cabin and whisked out into the main corridor, leaving the old man alone.

---

A half hour later, Kale was ambling down the concourse from the docking port into Cloud City proper, starting with an open-air market arranged to tempt disembarking businessmen and tourists with food and trinkets they could buy further down in the city for half the price. Bespin had never been part of his plans, and thanks to his sudden conscience pangs, he didn't have a credit to his name - even his ticket had been stolen, and he didn't want to risk pursuing a refund or a transfer to continue his journey to the mining world of Subterrel.

So that meant finding money, first for some food, then for some shelter, then eventually for another ticket, or a forgery, whichever came cheaper. Fortunately, Kale had always been very good at finding money.

With a firm grip on his backpack's shoulder strap, Kale plunged into the slow-moving crowd on the streets of Cloud City, keeping his eyes open for another easy mark.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Level 122 - Commerce Sector

Hundreds of beings made their way down the long narrowed streets, haggling for freshly produced, or stolen, goods passed up from the factories located 100 levels below. Organized crime lords were trying to cut out a sizable profit while being all the same lazy since they didn't have to rely on exporting or importing anything. They just had to rely on their people on the inside to 'accidentally' loose some products: power converters, repulsors stabilizers, HUD's, shield oscillators ... anything that could fall off the speeder were fair game.

There were also those trying to make an honest living by setting up shop in small tin can sized storefronts, renting the space for at least twice what it was worth, selling the same supplies for little profit; their dreams hanging on the edge of failure everyday ...

It was amongst these honest peddlers that a demure and timid figure weaved her way through a thick mass of Rodians towards her destination, a mom and pop mechanic shop that specialized in small transport vehicles and fighter parts off the record. Rihard and his wife had an honest knack of knowing which ear could be whispered into and without drawing attention to themselves. Something that their frequent costumer appreciated.

Lianna Mal Pannis, i.e. Navaria Tarkin, Jedi Master and identical twin sister to the newly crowned Empress of the Empire required subtlety, doubly damned in the eyes of the Galactic Regime. They were searching for her, quietly, not wishing to cause a stir with Miranda's new rise to power. Outside of her trusted circle, Navaria had to presume that everyone would turn her in for promises of wealth.

The galaxy felt so small, so confining since Doldur and Atzerri. She couldn't step outside her quarters without a hooded cloak and scarf to cover her face because of the contagious Bonaden Cough she acquired on her trip here. It was a good story as any, for those that asked. Navaria was quite adept at coughing on cue for effect. She was adept at fooling everyone. Including her fellow Jedi, who on the surface, were seemingly accepting of the Jedi Master wishes to be addressed be her real name.

They did not realize how alone she felt. Navaria easily accepted the consequences of her actions in saving her sister's life. How her identity would be veiled and the Empire would be tracking her down for the rest of her life ...

She would meditate often, and alone, searching the Force for guidance and ways to alleviate distracted thoughts. Her mind would be quieted, eventually, but the peace she felt wasn't as cleansing without Daria's presence. The Knight was avoiding her, again. Atzerri complicated their relationship further and for all the power that the Force bestowed upon her, Navaria had never been so empowered, or inspired, when Daria was at her side.

Her thoughts returned to the present, focused on arriving to her appointment inconspicuously. She allowed her mind to reach out through the Force and felt no immediately threats of danger or distinct thoughts towards her. It was just like any other day here, but the Master knew better. The Force was always in motion and one never knew when to expect the mundane to shift suddenly ...

[Kale]

A Togruta female paused at the stall of a Bothan selling Rare! and Antique! beaded jewelry that was actually manufactured just a few levels down. But by the time she'd found the perfect necklace to set off her magnificent headtail markings, her pouch of credit chits was nowhere to be found. Flustered, she tried to placate the Bothan shopkeeper while she rooted through her substantial purse.

A few blocks away, Kale dropped Miss Timaa Shirii's identicard and two bank-controlled buying chits to the pavement - he didn't like to hold onto anything that could be traced. About seventy-five credits in small denominations sat comfortably in the inner pocket of his jacket, enough for a few days, depending on what lodging he found. But Kale wanted a little more for insurance, and these were good hunting grounds, far enough from the commercial docks that there was little security presence, close enough that there were plenty of unwary tourists and self-absorbed business travelers to provide tempting targets to someone of Kale's talents.

The human teen joined the flow of sentient foot traffic without so much as a ripple. He excelled at disappearing into crowds, even moving quickly through them without being seen. Most beings simply didn't notice him when he didn't want him to - they might have a brief impression of a human boy: well, was he tall, short? Short to medium, perhaps, wearing gray, or brown, either a jacket or a robe or something else altogether, and his hair was light, or dark, or reddish - it may have just been a trick of the light, but could you pick him out of a line-up, oh, I don't really think I could say.

Ever since he'd met up with Lorca Dawnstone on Coruscant, he'd begun to suspect it was somehow a byproduct of his connection with the Force. He'd even learned to amplify it and disappear entirely, in plain view. Or, at least, he thought. He'd never had a chance to try it in front of a mirror before.

As he scanned the bazaar, his eyes kept returning to a tall, female figure walking alone with a purpose in her step. She wore a robe and had her face covered - could be a religious acolyte, could be someone who didn't want her face seen, and neither was attractive prospect for a thief. People who hid their faces were usually more trouble than they were worth. But for some reason Kale found himself drawn to this one. And he hadn't stowed all the way from the Core to the Outer Rim by ignoring his instincts.

He followed the woman as covertly as he could manage, sometimes on the same side of the street, sometimes on the opposite side. He never looked at her, but she was always in his peripherals. And block by block he drew closer to her.

[Navaria Tarkin]

She couldn't help but feel that someone was following her. Not out of malicious or wicked intent, but the Force was unmistakably at work. But for what reason? None of the usual auras were in the area and there weren't any presences of the past that would cause her to be wary or welcoming.

Something was amiss. Cautious and on her guard, Navaria remained mindful of her surroundings and waited patiently for her pursuer to reveal themselves.

[Kale]

A clump of Sullustan and Bothan tourists with busy holo-imagers had decided to cross a street to go see a pottery vendor; their path took them straight toward the hooded figure. Kale surreptitiously attached himself to the group, head down, hands in pockets.

Several of the group carelessly bumped Navaria as they passed, and in the middle of the crowd, a narrow, nimble hand slipped into her pocket and pulled out a small pouch of loose credits.

[Navaria Tarkin]

The Sullustans muttered a humble apology for knocking into her, but Navaria was too transfixed on a slim hand finding its way into her pockets. With impeccable speed, the Jedi grabbed his arm with a firm grip and tugged him forward to lock eyes.

Chocolate eyes narrowed at thief and was mildly surprised at it was a mousy brown haired disheveled teenager staring back at her in surprise. But then suspicious eyes relaxed in understanding as realization overtook the Jedi Master. This boy was the one she had felt. The Force was strong with him.

[Kale]

The frell!

Kale tried to wrench his arm free of her grip, but she was stronger than she looked. A felt pouch dropped to the sidewalk and spilled a handful of coins into the street.

The tourists gasped and skittered away from the scuffle. Then, as soon as they were at a safe distance, they started taking holo-images.

Kale had a crazy urge to reach up and rip the scarf off the woman's face, as if exposing her to sunlight would paralyze her or some silly thing like that. Instead, he grabbed the edge of her hood and pulled it down over her eyes, hoping to blind her and knock her off-balance, distract her enough so he could break her grip and get free...

[Navaria Tarkin]

The clicking of holo-cameras didn't make her flinch. These sorts of situations happened all too often in this part of Cloud City and the local authorities would probably pay it no mind, and her identity was well hidden underneath all the clothing. She only feared for the boy's safety.

She swung him around so her back was facing the tourists to lessen the amount of pictures snapped. "Wait listen ..."

Her sentence was cut off by the hood pulled over her eyes. His efforts would have worked on an ordinary woman, but Navaria did not need her eyes to see. She could still see the boy through the Force, a bundle of panicked emanating from him. Even the shove shouldn't have caused too much of an issue, but Navaria bumped into a Rodian that was trying to scoop up the fallen coins. It stirred her enough that her thief was able to break free and then bolt.

"Damn!" She snatched her pouch, which was lighter in coin, and made way to chase.

[Kale]

Kale flew through the streets, nimbly dodging his way past pedestrians. Didn't matter that he had no idea where he was going. One city was very much like another; you learned to look for the signs that said, cheap lodging, easy food, gang territory, danger here. All he needed now was a hiding place, but first he needed to shake his masked pursuer.

Krasst, he was getting sloppy! He'd thought she looked like trouble from the start, so why had he gone ahead and picked her anyway?

He'd have to work it out on his own time later. For now, he needed to get out of sight, but that was hard to do on a crowded street - running for your life had a way of making you conspicuous. And it was only a matter of time before some well-meaning citizen called the cops or, worse, the Imperials.

Kale juked between the legs of a skittering B'omarr Monk and vaulted over a passing food cart bearing some sort of hot pasties that smelled like fish. He grabbed onto a light pole and swung his way into a side alley - there was a chain-link fence about halfway down, and he hauled himself over and found himself in some sort of loading dock at the back of a department store.

The teen looked around frantically for any viable exit, and he found it underneath his feet. Cloud City was, after all, just a big repulsorlift platform; there were maintenance crawlways throughout the whole complex to reach key systems, and he was standing over an access hatch set into the pavement. He waved a hand over the padlock binding the hatch shut and convinced the mechanism he'd just turned the right key. Then he flipped open the hatch and slipped inside just as he heard footsteps echoing down the alley.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Her feet danced to a halt, eyes tapering to the new surroundings. Senses heightened by the Force, they fanned the area in search for any minuscule detail to alert the Jedi to the boys whereabouts.

A gentle hiss of a compression valve diverted her eyes to a hatch below. She half smiled when his presence was confirmed through the Force about 3 meters ahead of her. Her smile grew full at his cleverness and fell into a brisk walk, following the young boy through more trepidous streets. Danger had turned far more insidious in this sector then a mere thieving hand looking for coin.

The system that the boy had found himself inside followed the alleyway for the most part, noting similar hatches along the way near electrical or computer terminals. Certainly the well placed openings were to help the Ugnaughts traverse the more seedy areas of the station in some safety.

[Kale]

It was cramped in the crawlspaces between levels. They had been designed with shorter beings in mind, and Kale had to keep his head down to avoid banging it on durasteel girders and support struts; he moved as fast as he was able while dodging protruding pipes and power conduits.

He'd gone about the length of a block, far enough to see the light of another access hatch up ahead. He jumped onto the ladder and was about to push his way out when he felt the cold prickling at the back of his neck that always meant danger.

Kale froze and took a moment to calm his racing heart. Then he closed his eyes and expanded his feelings the way Lorca had shown him, trying to sense what he couldn't see--

Oh, crap, she'd followed him!

Kale recoiled from the hatch as if a pair of poisonous cohouns had just slithered down from it, and he tucked himself back into a hollow between a large fuse box and a nest of cooling conduits. If he couldn't outrun her, maybe he could just disappear from under her nose.

The boy took a few deep breaths and focused on shrinking into the wall of the tunnel, matching his biorhythms to the thrum of the surrounding machinery, joining his essence to the fabric of the Force all around him. To a casual observer, he'd just become a surface feature of the tunnel, there, but completely unremarkable. To a Force-adept, he'd simply become a void, indistinguishable from the ambient hum of the Force.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria stopped dead in her tracks with a look of mild surprise creasing her features.

"Interesting," she muttered to herself, fascinated by this turn of events. The young boy either had been trained at one point or was unconsciously molding the Force to suit his needs. As a street urchin, the Force would do him a great survive in stealth, speed and accentuating survival instincts. But to blink out of existence and allow his presence to fade into the natural ebb of the Force was a rare talent.

Even with her considerable power, Navaria wouldn't be able to find him. There was a small chance that the Jedi Master could pick a stray thought from the boy, but he would be concentrating on keeping himself hidden. Now wasn't the time for action, but inaction and patience. The boy couldn't hide forever. Something would draw him out eventually.

Gathering up her cloak, the Jedi made herself as comfortable as she could against the side of a store front, looking the part of a beggar, or homeless being. Their kind was part of the natural scenery here amidst vagabonds and gang members. There she sat, quiet and still. Her chest barely visible with each breath, waiting passively for the moment that the Force would reveal her sneaky little thief.

[Kale]

Kale waited. He wasn't sure how long. It wasn't easy to think about things like time when you were focusing on merging with the cosmic spiritual energies of the universe.

Not that he ever thought of it like that. To him, it was just a place to hide, like a small fish in a coral reef. The tides only mattered if they were bringing in sharks.

Twenty minutes passed. Thirty. Kale would have thought he'd be getting antsy by now, but, strangely enough, he was more at peace than he'd been since...

Well, since he left Lorca, anyway.

Cautiously, he extended his senses again. He couldn't detect any danger above.

With a deep breath, Kale pulled himself out of his hiding place, climbed up the ladder, and popped the hatch to take a look around.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Her head shifted with the boy's returned presence, but still her eyes remained fixated across the street to some Twi'lek thug dealing spice. She didn't want to give her position away by some non-threatening movement just to see if he had finally revealed himself physically.

The click of the latch coming undo, the hiss of a pressure valve came next followed by the barely audible squeaky hinges of the hatch opening from behind her in the alley. Nothing stirred but the vibrant life force of a teenager hoping that his mystery pursuer was gone.

Not wanting to spook the boy again, Navaria remained still, hovering over her knee like many of the downtrodden along the strip. She was hoping to appeal to his curiosity before his survival instincts kicked in. Waiting for a petty thief for close to 45 standard minutes was rather comical when only a few credits had been lost. And when his mind was quiet, when the adrenaline from the chase subsided, perhaps reason would allow him to question why she has been able to track him as easily as she did.

[Kale]

Kale lifted the hatch just enough to raise his eyes above the pavement, and he slowly scanned the perimeter. A slith deal on one street corner - nothing that concerned him - a couple vagrants over by the dumpsters. He turned his head to the other side and stared right into a familiar pair of sharp, brown eyes.

He yelped and darted back down into the tunnel, and the hatch slammed shut with a p-chunk.

The Twi'lek dealer looked up irritably and decided to move his operation somewhere else.

Moments later, the hatch slowly rose again. Kale peered distrustfully at Navaria from underneath the trapdoor. When she didn't charge at him, pull out a weapon, or call for backup, he lifted the hatch the rest of the way and hauled himself out.

Carefully, Kale closed the hatch behind him, had a self-conscious look around, and took a few cautious steps toward the tranquil Jedi. "You waitin' for me to say I'm sorry?" he asked.

[Navaria Tarkin]

Navaria remained sitting. It was a non-threatening position where Kale could feel that he was in charge of the conversation, being able to stand over the Jedi. And if need be, run off if he felt threatened.

She chuckled mildly at his question. "No, young one. That would be hypocritical of me."

Even the Jedi had to succumb to ordinary thievery when she was younger. After Master Drin had been captured by Vader, Navaria had to lead the life of a vagabond, jumping system to system by means that always didn't require a ticket. When money was scarce, even she had to palm a few credits now and then. Not something she was proud of, but it had only been done as a last resort.

"I just wanted to talk," she said in earnest. "We're alike you and I."

[Kale]

Kale still wasn't at ease. No one. No one ever 'just wanted to talk.'

He closed the gap by a few more steps. "Are we?"

[Navaria Tarkin]

"Yes, we are." She slowly rose a hand to her face and in a gesture of good faith, lowered the scarf covering her mouth. Navaria was much younger in face then voice. However, a cautious eye kept surveying the area in case she needed to cover up once more.

"You have an ability that few possess. Hiding as you do ..." she smiled warmly. "Even I cannot do that."

[Kale]

Okay, so she'd gotten his attention. Though dropping the scarf would've done that - she was beautiful! She might've been a model or an actress or something, because Kale was certain he'd seen that face before.

But someone who knew he was a Force user was either a friend or a very dangerous enemy. He wasn't ready to stick his neck out one way or the other yet.

"I've had some practice," he said. He reached up and closed his hand around something underneath his shirt, just over his heart - it seemed to calm his nerves.

"So you're a user, too," he said. It wasn't a question, and he wasn't talking about anything you could buy on back alleys like this one.

[Navaria Tarkin]

"Yes," she admitted with a small nod and then looked around for anyone finding this conversation of interest. When Navaria felt confident no overt eyes were glancing their way, she briefly delved into the Force and felt no danger. "Since the day I was born I've been trained ..."

It wasn't safe to go into too many details out here in the open. The boy realized that too from years of experience.

She took note of his odd gesture. "My name's Navaria."