Ben Skywalker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
momslilassassin) wrote2009-03-29 06:00 pm
momslilassassin) wrote2009-03-29 06:00 pm
Cantina, Middle o' Nowhere [Sunday evening, Fandom time]
In a galaxy whirling madly out of control, where whole cities could be blasted out of existence entirely on the Chief of State’s whim, no one cared when fourteen-year-old Ben Skywalker walked into a seedy cantina in a refueling depot halfway to nowhere and ordered a drink.
Which was why Ben couldn’t figure out why he felt like he was being watched. He’d taken all of the proper precautions: he’d Force-zapped the locator chip in his shoulder before leaving the prison; then traveled around Coruscant changing transportation at random and shifting through various disguises; he’d even taken Tahiri’s lightsaber apart and inspected it for tracking devices. But he still felt like someone might be capable of following him here, and perhaps all the way back to the Jedi base.
He ordered something called a Fogblaster on the bartender’s recommendation and wondered if it would dull the rawness of his emotions. He still felt sick about what this Tahiri had done to Shevu, and his friend’s death had reawakened the grief he’d felt after Mara had died. It was getting so bad that he almost reached out for his father for support.
He wasn't angry. He didn’t hate Tahiri, and wasn’t sure he would even be able to. He wanted to save her. He’d been where she was, had done things nearly as terrible because Jacen had convinced him he was serving the galaxy.
His drink arrived: dark, bubbling, and smelling like ronto poo. “I’m not drinking this,” he decided.
“Good choice,” said one of a pair of red-headed women—twins--approaching him, who looked familiar even if Ben was certain he'd never seen them before. They were Hapan: their striking beauty and stylish flight suits—one gold, one maroon—made that obvious. What made Ben stare, though, were the long, straight noses and thin arcing eyebrows that could have belonged on Tenel Ka’s face. “I’ll drink it instead,” she said, taking a long pull on the straw. “You have no idea how long I’ve been looking forward to this.”
“Eight days?” he guessed. That’s when he’d left Coruscant.
“Are you kidding?” the second woman asked, getting a straw of her own and drinking along with her sister. “Try eight hours, handsome.”
“Uh, okay,” Ben stammered. “I’m Ben—“
“We know who you are,” one of the women interrupted, batting her lashes at him. “I’m Trista. That’s Tayrn. We’ve come to take you home. Isn’t that luminous?”
“Yeah, about that,” Ben said. “I think we’re being watched.”
Trista rolled her eyes. “Of course we are. If you’re going to travel with us, you better get used to it.”
“I mean spied on,” Ben clarified. It wasn’t like he unused to public attention himself.
“That’s our security team,” Taryn whispered breathily in his ear. “We’re Tenel Ka’s cousins. Come on, handsome. Let me show you our skiff.” Her nose wrinkled up at his attire. “And a sanisteam. Where have you been riding? The garbage hold?”
Ben raised his brow. “How did you---“
“I never should have asked,” Taryn decided, draping her arm around him and pulling him towards the private hanger bay. “Don’t be shy,” she said, pointing to the little skiff. “There’s plenty of room for three.”
Ben was still feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Has your security team cleared this hanger?”
“That’s what security teams do,” Trista said.
“And they’re watching us now?”
“They’d better be,” Taryn replied. “But I promise no one will peek at your sanisteam, if that’s what you’re so worried about.”
Well, now it was. Ben got onto the ship, still feeling twitchy. It didn’t help that Tenel Ka had sent them to fetch him home. He could’ve gotten there very fine on his own.
Ben finished his sanisteam and wrapped a towel around his waist just in time to hear Trista warming the engines for departure. He noticed the door to the main cabin was slightly ajar. He came out and raised an eyebrow. “Sorry!” Taryn called. “I don’t know how that was left open!”
“Must have been a stowaway,” Ben decided with a sly smile. He knew she hadn’t peeked—he would’ve sensed that in the Force—but he liked the way she talked to him like he was an adult. He slipped into the fresh clothes Tenel Ka had apparently picked out for him and stepped into the lounge to find a meal waiting for him.
It was better not to think about how long he’d gone since he’d had real food. “I think I’m in love,” he teased.
“Silly man—royal cousins don’t do love,” Taryn chuckled. “Eat fast. We’re catching up to the Prince’s starcutter soon.”
Ben head tilted to the side. Something wasn’t right. He reached into the Force, frowned, then asked, “There’s no reason an auxiliary droid should be crawling around on your outer hull, is there?”
“There’s a droid on the hull?” Trista answered sharply, reaching immediately to activate the hull scrubber.
Ben shook his head. “Still there. It’s probably pulse shielded. Where’s your EV locker?”
Taryn pursed her lips at him. “Don’t get yourself killed. Her Majesty would hold it against us.”
Ben grinned and trotted down the hallway, suited up and opened the hatch. A droid hand—a black, skeletal droid hand—shot down from the upper edge and opened fire with a standard blaster pistol. Ben’s mouth went dry—he recognized that hand. He was terrified of that hand on a level far below thought. “Did you really think you could escape me, Ben?”
“D-Double-Ex?” Ben stammered. The interrogation droid from Coruscant. Sithspit. The droid continued to pour fire in to the airlock and Ben dropped into a corner where the firing pattern didn’t seem to reach, landing with a heavy thud. He let Tahiri’s lightsaber tumble from his hand and roll out the open hatch into space.
The droid swung into the hallway.
Ben was waiting with his hand outstretched. “Hello, Double-Ex.” His eyes narrowed. “Goodbye, Double-Ex.” He hit the droid with the hardest Force-shove he could manage, grateful for the practice with his grandfather. Double-Ex let out a squawk of surprise, then flew out the airlock and tumbled towards the gauze of the nearby Carida Nebula.
Then he noticed the matte-black hull of the Anakin Solo sliding past in the distance, pouring ion cannon fire into a target he couldn’t see.
“Fierfek!” Ben swore, running back towards the twins. “Are they going after the Prince?”
“They’ve already captured him,” Taryn replied. “There’s only one escape now, and I hope he doesn’t take it. Isolder has always been a good uncle to us.”
They turned away from the confrontation.
“Maybe I can help him!” Ben protested.
“You Jedi,” Trista said, “always thinking you can do the impossible. No wonder you get in so much trouble.”
“But—“
“Not a chance,” Taryn said. “Her Majesty is going to be angry enough about losing her father.”
[OOC: Dialogue taken from Troy "Sure, Let's Make This *More* Awkward" Denning and his book Invincible. Apologies for the flist spamming.]
Which was why Ben couldn’t figure out why he felt like he was being watched. He’d taken all of the proper precautions: he’d Force-zapped the locator chip in his shoulder before leaving the prison; then traveled around Coruscant changing transportation at random and shifting through various disguises; he’d even taken Tahiri’s lightsaber apart and inspected it for tracking devices. But he still felt like someone might be capable of following him here, and perhaps all the way back to the Jedi base.
He ordered something called a Fogblaster on the bartender’s recommendation and wondered if it would dull the rawness of his emotions. He still felt sick about what this Tahiri had done to Shevu, and his friend’s death had reawakened the grief he’d felt after Mara had died. It was getting so bad that he almost reached out for his father for support.
He wasn't angry. He didn’t hate Tahiri, and wasn’t sure he would even be able to. He wanted to save her. He’d been where she was, had done things nearly as terrible because Jacen had convinced him he was serving the galaxy.
His drink arrived: dark, bubbling, and smelling like ronto poo. “I’m not drinking this,” he decided.
“Good choice,” said one of a pair of red-headed women—twins--approaching him, who looked familiar even if Ben was certain he'd never seen them before. They were Hapan: their striking beauty and stylish flight suits—one gold, one maroon—made that obvious. What made Ben stare, though, were the long, straight noses and thin arcing eyebrows that could have belonged on Tenel Ka’s face. “I’ll drink it instead,” she said, taking a long pull on the straw. “You have no idea how long I’ve been looking forward to this.”
“Eight days?” he guessed. That’s when he’d left Coruscant.
“Are you kidding?” the second woman asked, getting a straw of her own and drinking along with her sister. “Try eight hours, handsome.”
“Uh, okay,” Ben stammered. “I’m Ben—“
“We know who you are,” one of the women interrupted, batting her lashes at him. “I’m Trista. That’s Tayrn. We’ve come to take you home. Isn’t that luminous?”
“Yeah, about that,” Ben said. “I think we’re being watched.”
Trista rolled her eyes. “Of course we are. If you’re going to travel with us, you better get used to it.”
“I mean spied on,” Ben clarified. It wasn’t like he unused to public attention himself.
“That’s our security team,” Taryn whispered breathily in his ear. “We’re Tenel Ka’s cousins. Come on, handsome. Let me show you our skiff.” Her nose wrinkled up at his attire. “And a sanisteam. Where have you been riding? The garbage hold?”
Ben raised his brow. “How did you---“
“I never should have asked,” Taryn decided, draping her arm around him and pulling him towards the private hanger bay. “Don’t be shy,” she said, pointing to the little skiff. “There’s plenty of room for three.”
Ben was still feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Has your security team cleared this hanger?”
“That’s what security teams do,” Trista said.
“And they’re watching us now?”
“They’d better be,” Taryn replied. “But I promise no one will peek at your sanisteam, if that’s what you’re so worried about.”
Well, now it was. Ben got onto the ship, still feeling twitchy. It didn’t help that Tenel Ka had sent them to fetch him home. He could’ve gotten there very fine on his own.
Ben finished his sanisteam and wrapped a towel around his waist just in time to hear Trista warming the engines for departure. He noticed the door to the main cabin was slightly ajar. He came out and raised an eyebrow. “Sorry!” Taryn called. “I don’t know how that was left open!”
“Must have been a stowaway,” Ben decided with a sly smile. He knew she hadn’t peeked—he would’ve sensed that in the Force—but he liked the way she talked to him like he was an adult. He slipped into the fresh clothes Tenel Ka had apparently picked out for him and stepped into the lounge to find a meal waiting for him.
It was better not to think about how long he’d gone since he’d had real food. “I think I’m in love,” he teased.
“Silly man—royal cousins don’t do love,” Taryn chuckled. “Eat fast. We’re catching up to the Prince’s starcutter soon.”
Ben head tilted to the side. Something wasn’t right. He reached into the Force, frowned, then asked, “There’s no reason an auxiliary droid should be crawling around on your outer hull, is there?”
“There’s a droid on the hull?” Trista answered sharply, reaching immediately to activate the hull scrubber.
Ben shook his head. “Still there. It’s probably pulse shielded. Where’s your EV locker?”
Taryn pursed her lips at him. “Don’t get yourself killed. Her Majesty would hold it against us.”
Ben grinned and trotted down the hallway, suited up and opened the hatch. A droid hand—a black, skeletal droid hand—shot down from the upper edge and opened fire with a standard blaster pistol. Ben’s mouth went dry—he recognized that hand. He was terrified of that hand on a level far below thought. “Did you really think you could escape me, Ben?”
“D-Double-Ex?” Ben stammered. The interrogation droid from Coruscant. Sithspit. The droid continued to pour fire in to the airlock and Ben dropped into a corner where the firing pattern didn’t seem to reach, landing with a heavy thud. He let Tahiri’s lightsaber tumble from his hand and roll out the open hatch into space.
The droid swung into the hallway.
Ben was waiting with his hand outstretched. “Hello, Double-Ex.” His eyes narrowed. “Goodbye, Double-Ex.” He hit the droid with the hardest Force-shove he could manage, grateful for the practice with his grandfather. Double-Ex let out a squawk of surprise, then flew out the airlock and tumbled towards the gauze of the nearby Carida Nebula.
Then he noticed the matte-black hull of the Anakin Solo sliding past in the distance, pouring ion cannon fire into a target he couldn’t see.
“Fierfek!” Ben swore, running back towards the twins. “Are they going after the Prince?”
“They’ve already captured him,” Taryn replied. “There’s only one escape now, and I hope he doesn’t take it. Isolder has always been a good uncle to us.”
They turned away from the confrontation.
“Maybe I can help him!” Ben protested.
“You Jedi,” Trista said, “always thinking you can do the impossible. No wonder you get in so much trouble.”
“But—“
“Not a chance,” Taryn said. “Her Majesty is going to be angry enough about losing her father.”
[OOC: Dialogue taken from Troy "Sure, Let's Make This *More* Awkward" Denning and his book Invincible. Apologies for the flist spamming.]