The Painted Bird

[Onika Zepparah]

Onika stood and sidled her way along the aisle toward the egress, noting with startling clarity how much room the other passengers were giving the two of them. She was used to jostling for space in these trains, but people were actually pressing back into their seats as she passed. Not for her, of course, but for the Twi'lek Knight behind her. She wasn't sure if it was because they recognized the uniform from the holo adverts, or simply because they were unnerved to see an alien walking with such undeniable authority.

It could have been empowering. But Onika couldn't shake the feeling that she was being marched to her execution. She'd never had much of a life, but the Empire was intent on taking it away, all because of some power they thought she had. And to be what? A soldier? A COMPNOR shill? A government spook? She had no political aspirations. She just wanted to be left alone.

The noise of the station greeted her as she stepped into the threshold, and she felt Palara's presence at her back, unthreatening, but unshakable, obliterating any thoughts she may have had of bolting then and there. She hesitated and gave Palara a weak smile, hoping the woman would think she was still on board.

Maybe there was still a way out. She'd been given a day. She could do a lot in a day. Transport offworld? Not likely. Even if she had the means, a ship could be interdicted. She could sink lower. Head into the bowels of the Undercity, where people went to disappear. It was a terrifying prospect even if half the hellish tales she'd heard were true, of lawless gangs and radioactive fires, of junkworms and flesh-eating slimes and reanimated corpses...

She suppressed a shudder. That was a last resort. They wanted her because of this power. All she had to do was make them think she didn't have it after all. And hope they didn't kill her for wasting their time.

Maybe she could--

"Onya!"

She startled at the voice - strong, clear, ringing over the bustle of the disembarking passengers, and froze, all her pretensions shattered. What was... how could he be here?

A Zabrak teenager came squeezing through the throng, bald with a crown of backswept horns. He burst onto the platform and caught her by the shoulders. "Hey. I heard... are you all right?"

Onika stared back at Kona in disbelief. "I... yeah. But how did you..."

She stared into his warm, dark eyes, then turned her own question toward Palara.

[Palara Iscandar]

Palara seemed completely opaque, returning Onika's look with one that held a hint of curiosity: her brows slightly raised, her held tilted slightly, and an ever-so-slight lean forward.

"Should I leave you two alone for a moment?" She asked. "Zere is a great noodle shop nearby I 'ave not been to in weeks zat is calling my name. Per'aps I shall go zere."

[Onika Zepparah]

Noodles. Onika might have laughed if she had any breath in her lungs. She watched Palara slip away and then turned back to the anxiously waiting Zabrak. His skin was tan and smooth, lightly pebbled near the base of his horns, with noble features that could have been carved on a marble statue, his face pristine and unmarked, too young to have earned his family tattoos. He was nearly a head taller than her, and she wasn't short, but he was wiry with youth, with lean muscles coiled tight like springs, and passions wound just as tight. Every time Onika saw him, he seemed to be itching for a provocation, dangerous, volatile. It was part of why he fascinated her.

"Kona, what are you doing here?"

Kona was looking her over, grim-faced at the sight of the bruises puckering around around her eye socket and the scabbed-over cut on her lip. "She called me," he said. "She said there was trouble at school, and you needed me. I didn't know what to believe. Onika, what the frell is going on?"

Onika winced at his tone, almost accusatory. She wasn't sure which was more astounding - that Palara had known to contact Kona, or that Kona had trusted her enough to come. Either the Knight had made a very persuasive case, or...

She was conscious of eyes all around them, some fleeting, some lingering on the two alien teenagers huddled together on the platform. "Not here," Onika said. "Let's get out of the way."

They stole off together through the crowd, her hand in his, Onika half-jogging to keep up with Kona's long, wiry stride, until they had rounded a corner into a little-used maintenance hallway. A droid trundled by whistling cheekily to itself, completely inured to the problems of organics, and disappeared through a waist-high hatch in the side of the alley.

Onika pulled away from Kona's grasp and swept a few loose strand of black hair from her eyes as she caught her breath. Kona stepped beside her, impatient. She could feel his attention heating up the air around her.

"Some rich sleemos cornered me in the locker room at school," she said. "I... I handled it."

"The frell you did!" Kona spat, and he paced in a circle, hands clenching and unclenching like the talons of a hawkbat. "Ee cho paa bashu... what's the point of being in that drenhole if you have to fight your way through it? At least in the District we watch each other's backs!"

"Kona, it's handled," Onika insisted. "That's not the problem anymore. School's not a problem. I've got bigger problems now."

Kona's hairless brows descended, and his nostrils flared like a reek ready to charge. "That government sneak. Who is she?"

Onika lowered her head, bracing for the storm. "She's a Knight. An Imperial Knight. She... wants to recruit me."

Kona stared, his face draining of all expression. For a moment, an agonizing, heart-stopping moment, it looked as though he didn't recognize the person in front of him.

"Recruit you. Why?"

Onika drew in a deep, sharp breath, as if she were about to dive off a cliff into uncertain waters. And then she told him. About the struggle in the locker room, which ended in twisted bodies and broken limbs, cast aside as if by the vengeful hand of God. The panicked flight from her room, only to be met on the train and congratulated for her initiative. The strange conversation that followed, leading her, and Kona, to where they stood.

She forced herself to hold his eyes as he processed it. She knew he could see the angles as well as she could. And then he stepped in, slipped his arms under hers, and pulled her close against him. She sighed and pressed her forehead against his shoulder, solid and warm and unyielding, while he kissed her hair and teased it with his fingertips.

"I don't imagine you could just say 'no,'" he said in a low voice.

"They'd hunt me," Onika said, muffled against his chest. "She was pretty clear about that. She made it sound like this power can change the galaxy. I don't get it. That isn't me. I'm nobody."

Kona's embrace tightened like a steel trap. "Not nobody. And you're nobody's fool, either. If you've got this power, can't you fight them?"

"I don't know how to use it. And they're the only ones who can teach me." She pushed back so she could look him in the eyes, flashing her teeth in a melancholy smile. "Catch twenty-two."

"What if you learned?"

Onika stared, her smile fading. "I... you're kidding, right?"

"Maybe not." Kona let his hands slip down to take hers again. "If the Empire wants your power so much, it must be valuable, right? What if you could make it work for yourself? Learn enough to be dangerous... learn to slip their nets. Then... whatever. Black Sun, the Hutts, there's gotta be someone willing to pay a ransom for what you can do. It'd be like robbing the Empire."

She looked back at him in horror. "Kona, that's crazy. I don't want to be some kind of commodity. I just want my life back. I just want to be normal."

Kona stared back, hard at first, and then relented with a sigh. He rubbed her hands between his callused palms. "Sorry. I was just... trying to spin it, you know? So what are you gonna do?"

"I don't think I have a choice," Onika said glumly. "Play along. Look for a way out. Maybe if they think I'm no good... the fight in the locker room was just a lucky shot. Maybe they'll send me back."

Kona frowned, stone-faced and stormy. "Yeah. It's worth a try." He clasped her hands tightly and then leaned to kiss her hairline. "I guess you got some packing to do?"

Onika nodded. "I've got a day. Packing won't take that long."

They stood in each other's arms for a few more fragile moments. Then they stole away into the depths of little Ryloth for one last night of freedom.