Very Shortly Ago, in a Galaxy Right Around the Corner (Clearsight X JacksAreWild)

[ClearSight]

Abrasively loud music and noisy patrons made it difficult to think, and was the constant state of the backwater bar, The Lonesome Sandstorm, Akara found herself sitting in. However, it was a price she was willing to pay, as the majority of decent pilots would find themselves frequenting such an establishment. Well, not all pilots, but the type she was looking for. Akara had just recently achieved the rank of Knight, meaning she was finally on her own. No Master, less oversight, and looking for her place in the universe. What she needed to start the journey was a pilot unafraid of journeying into danger and doing what needed to be done, in the name of... Justice, perhaps. She wasn't exactly sure what she would be doing or why, but as a Jedi, one's associates needed to be prepared to act.

Truthfully, Akara could pilot a ship, but it wasn't a strength, it wasn't even a talent, it was merely something she could do at an acceptable level. It wasn't enough, she needed a true pilot, with experience and knowledge about how things worked in the vast universe. So, she was sitting in the dimly lit, noisy, noxious bar, waiting. She had put out word, and if a pilot needed work they would hear about it.

What she didn't know was that her job had been worded in a manner that didn't attract much interest. She had always been intelligent, but her street smarts were severely lacking, leading her to post a blunt, unattractive offer. She mentioned being a Jedi, that there would be dangerous situations, that loyalty was expected, and a few other less than charismatic lines. One would assume she was an old, rigid Jedi, or simply not want to put themselves on the line when there was no exact figure for payment mentioned in the notice.

Still, Akara didn't think about any of that, she merely went where she believed a pilot would be and waited, sitting in the back corner of the bar. If one were to merely look, it would be impossible to read anything from a distance. Her appearance was mysterious and slightly menacing, her face covered by the hood of her robe and a rather oppressive aura radiating from her core as she meditated. While the visage beneath it was breathtaking, there was no way to tell, as even her eyes were closed and hidden beneath the shadow of the hood.

Her mind was focused, disconnected from her surroundings. She was thinking about how it came to this, how she graduated from Padawan to Knight, from the guided to the guider. She had been taken in late, and her Master was one of the few that would take in someone like her, one tainted by the world. Nar Zuhal, her master, a woman of immense skill and faith in the force. She taught Akara everything, to immerse herself in the force and calm her often active mind. Akara never found herself completely in tune with the ways of the force, of the Jedi Order. She found their rigid ways to be extreme, but just and fair overall. She was thankful for her Master's teachings.

Her Master's death was the catalyst for her rise from student to independent Knight. They council judged her ready after her Master's death, not only due to her ability, but her calm. The truth was, Akara wasn't calm, she was in turmoil. Her mind was a mess, but ultimately she pushed forward. Her only choice was to pursue the duties she had been trained to do, and hope all of it made sense as she progressed down the path.

 

[JacksAreWild]

There was a commonly held belief that mixing Miraluka and Human would result in difficulties for the offspring...and if they ever met Leta, they'd be right. The girl had managed to inherit her Corellian mother's mouth and her Miraluka father's sense of justice, (plus she got all that force sensitivity nonsense that no one who had it ever wanted). So she'd either get into trouble due to her biting sarcasm, or she'd insert herself into trouble because it was the right thing to do. Genetically there didn't seem to be much wrong with her, she got to have two functioning eyes so that was a plus; she hadn't been forced to develop her Force abilities to function in every day life. Though, her ability to 'see' with the Force had manifested in other ways....Leta could watch the flow (or lack there of) of electricity through wires and conduit.

Leta had shown a great affinity for all things mechanical and electrical growing up. When she had finally left the safety of the Veil to get in touch with her human roots, a ship had been the first thing on her list of things to procure... That dream had been interrupted after getting captured by a slave slip, forced into manual labor, escaping via slave revolt, changing her last name and taking a job as a grease monkey on the Tantive I, learning how to play sabacc from a Republic Captain, betting -herself- in a high stakes game of Corellian Spike, and winning an unnamed hunk of metal Corellian XS Freighter that she had upgraded into a speedy little smuggling ship known as The Dauntless.

Things had been good for awhile...she made decent money smuggling for the Republic and private collectors (the Imps paid more but they also had a higher rate of shooting smuggles than the Republic did). Rations, weapons, artifacts, even a juvenile Rancor once...if it wasn't a slave, shock collar, or spice, Leta would carry it. She'd met a ton of people on the way, had a many an adventure, fell in love with a guy named Has...and now had her ship stolen by said ex-lover.

Don't fall in love with guys named Has.

It's a stupid kriffin' name.

Now she was stuck here, on this dusty backwater planet in the Outer Rim, where jobs payed hardly anything and everyone only played small games of Pazaak. (Though if there ever were a massive Sabaac game she doubted she would be brave enough to put herself up as a wager again). There was plenty of work to be done though and after a couple of months she'd have enough for a ticket off this dust heap...orrrrr she could take another gamble and team up with a Jedi. Really the thing that held her back from taking on the job was the whole 'Loyalty is expected'...well that and the whole Jedi thing. Jedi were trouble. There was a reason she had taken on her mother's name of Garechu rather than her father's name of Marrok. People didn't need to know that she was the daughter of Esoldero Marrok - being the kid of a Jedi Master was fine behind the Veil because so many Miraluka were force sensitive... but it was kind of a pain in the ass once you got into the Core Worlds where the Jedi Council wanted to 'recruit' you...even worse when you got to the Outer Rim where no one could tell the difference between a Sith and a Jedi, so the consensus was to just hate them both out here.

Well, tracking down that Jedi and seeing if his old wrinkled ass needed a chauffeur could wait a little bit. She had just sold all the salvage she had gathered today and had finished three outdoor repair jobs that had taken a lot longer than they should have thanks to the brewing sandstorm. Leta plopped herself down at the bar and waved to the old Zabrak tender who had become well acquainted with the grounded captain in the two months that Leta had been trapped on this rock - he already had her order memorized.

"Narsu, koa!" No sooner had Leta relaxed into her seat did she hear a familiar Twi'lek voice telling some wasted spacers to leave her alone. She could mind her own business... have Kobrak rough these guys up...but he seemed busy with all his patrons and Leta wasn't really doing anything, so she called out, "Hey, Laserbrains, how 'bout you and your little buddy go play out in a sandstorm if you need something to do. Some of us adults want to relax and have a drink."

"Better not mess with her guys, Leta's Captain of the Dauntless." This slurred remark sent up a roar of laughter from the drunken regulars at the bar and made Leta's jaw twitch and her eyes narrow.

"The Dauntless?" One of the offworlders raised his brows, "We saw that pile of bolts navigating the asteroid field out by Korriban. Dontcha need a ship to be a captain eh?"

"I bet she can't even drive a speeder, let alone pilot a ship," his smaller, uglier friend sneered.

It's one thing when the guys who you've come to be bar buddies with bust your chops, but its a whole other story when some scum from off planet comes along to A) Harass your favorite Twi'lek waitress and B) Give you fodder for no reason other than they're heavily armed and they think they're invincible. Leta wasn't about to take this garbage from anyone, especially after being delivered the news that her idiot ex was piloting her baby through an asteroid field. "If the way you were manhandling her is any indication of how you pilot your ship, I bet I could fly circles around both of you in a TIE M1." That was plenty enough insult to get some blasters drawn, Leta's included.

 

[ClearSight]

Akara spent most of her time waiting in meditation, but that didn't mean she was completely deaf to the world around her. She heard the conversations in the bar, knew the people and certainly noticed as tension solidified in the air. Clearly things had escalated, quickly. She didn't much care about that, because as far as she was concerned, a minor disagreement wasn't within her realm of responsibility. She believed in justice, in preserving the peace, but not in making every single incident her responsibility. At least, she tried to think that way, knowing how maddening her life would become if she stood in the way of every single little spat. It was a smart decision, Jedi had a duty, but it was more on a grand scale than solving every problem. Perhaps some Masters would say otherwise, claiming one should always protect and uphold justice when a situation was placed before them, but if a Jedi were to take upon every misgiving, they would never get any rest or make progress towards the greater goals. That was especially true on a backwater planet, people seemed to look for trouble, it wasn't her job to intervene with the life choices of others.

Okay, so most of it was bullshit, the main reason being she didn't want the trouble. Unfortunately, reason didn't matter in the face of destiny, if one could call Akara's realization anything of the sort. She had been in the bar for some time, had an idea about the people, and the local pilots. One of the parties involved was a pilot, a well known pilot judging by the jests and friendliness that other frequent patrons offered up. Akara wanted to make an impression.

Help one regular, one pilot, receiving the gratitude of many. That was her thinking, naive thinking, but Akara had yet to realize the true reason nobody had come to her about the job. Instead, she had this wild assumption that if she did something favorable, that it would change things.

After a moment of deliberating, her eyes finally opened, the sharp blue orbs taking in the scene in front of her. Mainly, the drawn weapons and tense atmosphere. She had sensed the situation before ever opening her eyes. Trifling matter. That was all it was to her, something so easy to handle that she could barely keep herself from merely returning to her meditation and ignoring it. She had made a decision however, rising from her place in the corner of the bar and slowly moving towards the tension filled area, the one located between the two parties with drawn weapons.

As she moved between them, she retained her mysterious, stifling presence, making it easy for people to realize what she was, even before they caught a glimpse of the lightsaber hanging at her side. She turned her body to look at the drunk spacers, her face hidden by the hood of her robe, but the penetrating gaze coming from beneath impossible to miss. "I suggest you both put your weapons away and depart, there is nothing good for either of you here." She spoke in a calm, emotionless tone, the youthful vigor one would expect from her voice nowhere to be seen. In fact, it was difficult to read anything from the almost robotic, detached voice. It was the voice of someone controlling their every emotion, of someone struggling to keep the surging emotions within from spilling out, and it did its part in keeping Akara a mystery.

The spacers, while seemingly tempted to comment or insist on their course of action, eventually folded. A Jedi could do that, cause people to rethink their actions. Though the spacers were angry and muttering when they left, neither turned around once they started leaving, and neither dared to offend Akara, most likely unsure of what would happen if they did.

Akara, on the other hand, smiled slightly under her robe, proud that she took a step towards getting herself a captain, though failing to consider the person behind her, Leta, as one. In fact, after convincing the disrupting spacers to leave, Akara didn't even turn around and speak to Leta, merely returning to her spot in the corner and sitting down once more, prepared to wait for the fateful encounter with her future pilot. Yes, she was quite pleased with herself, she had made a good decision. Getting some free publicity, positive publicity, without even having to do anything drastic. After all, those that thought themselves invincible rarely held on to that belief in front of a force user, allowing Akara to solve an otherwise explosive situation with but a few words. She didn't even have to use force persuasion! Yep, she did well.

 

[JacksAreWild]

Even though Leta hadn't been the one to initiate drawing weapons, her gun ended up being leveled at the spacers first. The girl stood like someone who was ex-military, or at the very least, someone who spent a lot of time practicing. Opposite her, her opponents looked loose, stood sloppily; if it wasn't two vs. one, the fight would have definitely gone to Leta. "Look, Leta, you go shootin' in here, you're going to be the one cleaning it up this time." The bartender called over his shoulder but didn't make a move to get involved. His words caused a moment of pause in the spacers, making them wonder just how many people this girl had shot in here.

The number wasn't large, Leta didn't particularly enjoy killing and would rather disable or severely maim if she could. The girl had sent two other drunks packing earlier this month, and had held her own in a hand to hand bar fight with another female twice her size a week ago. Most of the regulars had their eyes fixed on her because watching the small Captain work was better entertainment than the bar's band. Unfortunately what no one could see was that Leta could easily reach out, feel the Force that wove and ran with the electrical current in her enemies' blasters...she could pull at the current, it was difficult, but she could pull enough that the current wouldn't hit the connectors and the blaster wouldn't fire. In a 2v1 situation, it was a great trick that evened the playing field (unfortunately she couldn't perform this feat with more than one blaster or electronics that were particularly complex like turrets).

Only an idiot would get involved in the quarrel of two blaster happy spacers and an antsy, grounded ship captain; that idiot turned out to be a Jedi. It hadn't taken much convincing to get the spacers to leave. As dumb as they were, they weren't about to pick a fight in the presence of a Jedi. So they left, leaving Leta to stand there with mouth slightly open as she gawked and marveled at her luck for attracting a Jedi even out here in the middle of nowhere. Great, well, guess The Force will follow me anywhere, even to the Outer Rim. Leta let out a deep breath and made an effort to even out her aura; a Jedi Master would be able to sense her Force sensitivity and she didn't need any "recruitment" into the Jedi Order. But she wasn't about to go leave and hide somewhere safe. She had already been twirling the idea of taking on the job of the Jedi's pilot before meeting her, she wasn't going to fight what seemed like the inevitable if the Force was actually going to physically bring them together.

Just because she had to sit down and talk to an ancient, emotionless Jedi didn't mean she had to like it. "Two shots of Quanya," Leta ordered from the bartender and then slid some credits across the bartop. Some cheap liquor should help lighten her mood and keep her from backing out of a deal that she doubted would be any good. After downing the shots she made her way over towards the Jedi's booth which was easy to find; after figuring out that there was a Jedi right next to them, several patrons had decided to sit elsewhere.

"Thanks for that back there, Jedi. You saved me some credits on clean up." Leta made herself right at home in the Jedi's booth without an invitation. "So, I hear that you're looking for a pilot. I've got the skills if you've got the ship." The young pilot started with a confident smile plastered on her lips because yeah, she was a good fucking pilot. Now there was just the matter of price...Leta valued herself and her skills so her prices were always toward the high side. Fair, but high. "Two thousand a week if you're looking for just a cab service, five thousand if we're going anywhere some fancy flying is required, ten if we're going into Imp territory or smuggling something."

 

[ClearSight]

Leta was certainly capable of using the force, Akara had felt it from the moment the woman came to her attention. For a Jedi, it was harder not to feel The Force than to feel it. After all, training was aimed at increasing one's sensitivity and control over The Force. Akara didn't care about Leta's potential, however, not being the same as most Jedi who would scramble to hoard every last child with the tiniest amount of potential in The Force. No, she had been one of those children, and it hadn't been an experience she would choose for others. Fortunately, she had adapted well. Someone like Leta, with a path in life and their own set beliefs and personality, they wouldn't do well as Jedi, as even Akara had to hide her deepest thoughts and desires.

Still, whether she intended to leave Leta be or not, it seemed the woman didn't plan on letting her sit in peace. She sat down and immediately ordered drinks, causing Akara to raise an eyebrow from beneath her hood. Was she going to be thanked? Possibly, but upon watching the woman down both shots herself she started to doubt it. Then what? Surely she wouldn't want to be considered for The Order, what a hassle that would be. It wasn't unheard of, there were plenty of people with the tiniest grain of sensitivity to The Force, who would run up to a Jedi and beg to be taken in. What they didn't know was that a majority of those capable of sensing The Force didn't become illustrious Jedi, but serve The Order in various other ways, like normal people, but with less freedom to switch careers. Not glamorous at all.

Akara wasn't left guessing for long, though before it all started to make sense she did receive thanks. Only, what followed was the true reason, she was a pilot. Akara had heard it earlier, but what had stuck out wasn't that Leta was a pilot, but that she had no ship. No ship was a deal breaker because Akara had a ship but it wasn't impressive. It would be enough to shuttle her around, but taking it into combat or trying to be stealthy was asking for trouble. Despite what seemed like a conversation ender, Akara didn't immediately reject her offer, partially because she felt the young woman must actually be skilled, to offer such ridiculous prices without a waiver in her voice, but mainly because she had a solution, a credit saving one at that.

A crafty grin had revealed itself beneath Akara's hood, the young Jedi Knight had always been praised by her Master for her intellect. Instead of rejecting Leta or going to buy a ship, which was outside of her immediate price range but not impossible, she let the earlier conversations within the bar act as inspiration. After organizing her thoughts she slowly began to speak, the same monotonous, robotic voice emerging from the shadow of her hood. "I have a ship, but it's nothing special. I have a proposal, however." She paused, looking at Leta for a moment before completing her thought. "I pay you the five thousand for now but help you get your ship back. Once I've done that, it's half mine. You can then purchase my half of the ship back with your usual going rates, but until that time you're my pilot, exclusively." She added the extra word at the end, thinking how someone who mentioned smuggling without any reason was probably a smuggler, and they often took various jobs at each stop. She didn't want to be involved with that unless she had to be.

 

[JacksAreWild]

Jedi are creepy.

It's the lack of emotion, the robes, the hoods, all that stuff...creepy. It was still a jolting experience to be around one so different from the ones she grew up with in The Veil. Well, those hadn't really been Jedi, not really; not all Miraluka were trained Jedi, but the entire race was made of Force users who could have emotions, families, and lives without the entire race falling to the Dark Side. In fact, only very few Miraluka ever left The Veil in pursuit of becoming Sith. So why did Jedi have to become so creepy once you got into the Outer Rim and Core Worlds?!

It helped to pretend that she was talking to a droid, even when she was presented with such an outlandish counteroffer. Own part of The Dauntless?!?! Such an idea did appear to make Leta agitated, with good reason, it was her damn ship!!!! She didn't want anyone to own part of it! Plus she didn't like the idea of being an indentured servant... Well, if I keep working here for a few more months, I can get a ticket off planet and then what? I'll have to spend another few months picking up odd jobs on ships and hoping that I get hop to where The Dauntless is...and by the time I get there Has might be gone. It would take months, maybe even years to catch him and he might blow the whole thing up, get it stolen, or sell it in the mean time. Either way, she was screwed...she just had to decide if she wanted to be screwed now or screwed later.

"Once we're on The Dauntless, my rates double; and you'll see why once we get there." The pilot lit up at the thought of being reunited with and showing off her baby. Indeed, the increased price would be well worth it once they got on the ship. When the Jedi mentioned she 'had a ship but it was nothing special', Leta assumed they would be stuck on some sort of passenger shuttle. Such transports weren't the worst but they were pretty much only good for flying on well mapped routes. They were slow and bulky...even Leta would be hard-pressed to get one through an asteroid belt or away from an Imperial boarding party. The Dauntless, on the other hand, could do everything short of escape a tractor beam (but the goal was to not be within range of a tractor beam in the first place).

"Even with the rate hike, that'll still leave me in your service for about two years. And we can do whatever crazy Jedi mission you want without being limited by whatever bucket of bolts you currently own." Jedi from the Jedi Order all seemed disgustingly practical so Leta was expected the worst already when it came to ship. "So what kind of Jedi mission are we going on anyways?" The pilot gently prodded because she didn't like going into things blind.

 

[ClearSight]

Maybe it was because Akara had never gone anywhere as a Jedi alone before, but the entire experience, knowing there was nobody judging her actions, it made everything uncomfortable. Even the constraint on her emotions, which she had been using for good reason, to avoid being sidelined at the Padawan level for life, was starting to feel ridiculous. It wasn't her personal epiphany, but an insight from watching how Leta reacted to her words. Some of it could be accounted for by the deal she offered, but Akara could read people, she knew it wasn't limited to that. Clearly, her mechanical voice and the detached atmosphere she had cultivated after her Master's death was enough to make others uncomfortable. Not that she changed her tune, but she was aware.

"Rates mean little, and if my mission finishes early, it will return to you regardless." She paused after, barely able to keep her voice steady as she thought about the true mission she was on. There was a cover, small peacekeeping and investigation missions. They weren't special, nor was the plan thoroughly contemplated, but it was enough to get her out into the galaxy. It was enough to give her true goal some secrecy. What she truly wanted to do, what she was struggling not to do, was find the Sith who murdered her Master and get revenge.

For a Jedi, a desire for revenge was already a step onto the path of darkness, but Akara didn't care! Actually, she did, which was why she didn't simply decide to run straight to it, instead of being secretive and struggling with the desire. She was aware of how slippery the slope she was treading was. Wanting to stop a Sith was one thing, wanting revenge was another. So she struggled, trying to decide whether or not she wanted to put the burden on herself. Yet, in the meantime, she would start her investigation, follow the trail and find the person responsible. That required a ship and after a slight moment to adjust herself she looked at the attractive, nosy smuggler and tried to decide what all to tell her. After all, she didn't need to tell her much, she was merely a pilot.

Ignoring the comment about her ship, which wasn't a bucket of bolts but was small, she answered Leta's curiosity. "I've recently become a Jedi Knight, so the missions available to me won't be terribly dangerous. Mainly investigation and peacekeeping missions." She didn't want to mention the private grudge causing her to actively hunt for a Sith Lord, but why would she? Besides, she was young, her status as a new Knight was proof of that, so knowing she was shuttling a young, less dangerous Jedi should have told Leta all she needed to know because she wasn't getting anything else for the moment.

"Now, how about we go ahead and depart? Since we've struck a deal I would like to be off of this planet as soon as I can be." Akara said, her voice still as unsettling as ever. Without waiting for an answer she stood up, not caring about drinks or anything else, simply putting some money on the table, revealing the youthful, smooth hands that were beneath her robe. Then she led the way, right towards her tiny ship and Leta's new life, at least for a time.