"Hey now," says Atton as he goes through his stretching routine, "I wasn't actually going to use the blaster in the mines."

She watches him, bemused and tired and completely dumbfounded. But also appreciative of the view.

"Why else would you take a blaster into a place that will explode everyone if you use it?"

He shrugs, "Things have been going missing in the barracks," he tells her, turning press his back against the wall and slide down into a comfortable sprawl, "Did you bring food?" 

"I came from the caf," she says as she reaches into her bag and takes out their dinner. "I had to bribe Elka eighty credits to give me extra. And that's on top of the four hundred it took for me to convince Wesk not to dunk you in carbonite and ship you off station."

He takes his pack, "My saviour," he praises her, and then he opens it up immediately to start in on the food within, ravenous after spending most of the day starving in his cell. 

...she rolls her eyes, sits down next to him and starts in on her own pack. Things have been going missing and not just from the barracks.

"Five days in the cage."

"Urmgh," he swallows a mouthful, "Couldn't they just electrocute me and get it over with." 

Sharra leans her head against his shoulder and oms.

"They considered it. Alongside just spacing you and also maybe blowing you up with the next detonation."

"At least it'd be quick," he mutters, digging back in. 

Mmmm. So hungry.

"Lettin' me come an give you breaks," she says, omming and reaching over to take one of his pepper pretzels. "Then we're gettin' locked in here for sleep shift."

He snags one of her seedrolls in retaliation.

"Why don't they just lock me in one of the unused barracks," he grumbles. 

"Blaster make whole station go boom. And they didn't wanna spend money and time to set up a camera feed that will need to be dismantled in a week."

Grumble grumble food. 

"You gonna have much time for me between all those droid malfunctions lately?" he asks, after devouring half his meal in silence. 

...she doesn't want to think about it. Grumble.

"No, but I'll make it work. Lug them up here and work on them while you sleep." She finishes her food and passes the last two bites to him. "It's like they're infecting each other. They're not even networked! Griy is pissed at me for the trouble and it's not even working! And I swear Coorta is having me followed. I keep seeing his minions everytime I turn a corner."

He happily eats her last two bites. 

"You expect me to sleep with those things in here?" 

Uuugh. She flops her face into his shoulder. She also doesn't think that would be smart. More like suicide.

"Had to spend an hour plastered in kolto this morning. One of them somehow got back online while I was in it's guts and nearly took my face right off."

"Droids," he scoffs, "Guess you could work on them in here during the day. It'd keep Coorta out of your business, too."

Hm. She nods and takes his hand to play with it. "I'll bring all my stuff up in the morning. Uthuar might pout a little, but Grant will appreciate not having to guard you all day. Can you kick Coorta out of the camera feed?"

"Who, me? I'm just a prisoner." 

"A prisoner with free access to the security systems. I convinced Griy that locking the door behind me was enough security for the night. Cameras are disabled for privacy reasons. He was horrified at the thought of the other sec officers getting a free show."

He lets out a laugh, "Devious," he nudges her, "Alright, I'll poke around the system, see if I can give Coorta some problems."

"Maybe lower the cage settings while you're at it. Unless they're already on the lowest... don't want you falling over and burning your face off. I like your face."

"Well, it's not on the highest," he rubs his arm, "I'll see what I can do." 

He pushes himself up from the wall to make his way over to the console, shaking out a brief limp as he goes. 

...Sharra pouts and flops down on the ground, bereft of her Atton pillow.

"You don't think I'm being paranoid, do you? With Coorta."

"Nah," he taps away at the console, "He's a shifty son of a bitch. Opportunistic" 

"Taking advantage of the chaos but not the one orchestrating it? I don't know why he's targeting me though. To stop me from fixing the problem? I'm hardly getting anywhere in that department."

"Could be anything. Maybe he has slaver contacts. Pretty girl with mechanic skills; you'd go for a lot in some sectors." 

"What about you? You're the best slicer on station. And you're pretty. I guess they could be put off by your mouth and attitude problem. Can't relate to that myself."

"I dunno about that. Most people don't know about my slicer skills. Anyway, slicers aren't the hot commodity on the market right now, according to the rumours."

"You hear rumors? What kinda rumors." She turns to face him him properly. "Nobody tells me anything."

"Sure we do, you just don't pay attention," he smirks over his shoulder at her.

He refocuses on the console, "Rumour is, the Exchange has put a massive bounty out on Jedi," he says, nonchalant. 

Her face scrunches and she feels a rising anxiety. Thoughts of - thoughts she doesn't want to have.

"...what would the Exchange want with Jedi? That's just asking for their shit to get fucked up."

"They do go for a lot on the market," he shrugs, "Or, the young ones do. Trained ones are more trouble than they're worth. Apparently. I mean," he shrugs again, "I can see it. Especially now they've all vanished."

"I'd hardly call them vanished. The war took out a bunch of them, sure, but there's still the Order."

-he looks up at her now, "What, you hadn't heard? The whole order up and vanished in the past few years. There was some meeting that turned into an ambush that took out a bunch of them, but they were dropping like flies before that, too." 

What??? "That sounds wrong. They're Jedi, they don't just up and disappear, and they don't get caught in random ambushes."

Shrug, and back to the console, "Maybe they missed a sith in the civil war. You know those things are like roaches." 

"Civil war."

Okay, now he turns to stare at her.

"Yeah, the Jedi Civil War. You know, Revan and Malak, Sith Lords, trying to conquer the republic? Revan doing a heel-face-turn and killing Malak to save it? All of that?" 

"What rock were you hiding under?!"

"Verth 27I. Sith? That's - there's no way."

He snorts, "I promise, there's a way. I mean, no idea what happened to them to make them go all," he gestures at his jaw, "Psycho Murder Conqueror. But they definitely were. Malak bombarded Telos, you know? That's where most of the fuel here goes, powering the project to rebuild." 

"I knew it goes to Telos but... that's..."

"Well," he coughs, "Sorry to be the one to tell you? It was a big shock for everyone back then, too. Hero of the Republic turning around to lead an army against it? Yeah." 

Should he, uh. 

He joins her back at the wall and. Hug? 

...she buries her face into his shirt. Which smells like he's been locked up in a cage for the entire day and also burning and —

She curls up small.

Okay. He'll just hold her then. 

Helps. Makes her feel as close to safe as she's been in. A long time. She can't remember...

Sharra swallows hard and tries to steady her breathing. Her heart, her chest, feels hollow. Empty and yearning for —

Nothing.

He... runs his fingers through her hair? Does that help? 

...she lets out a deep involuntary breath and leans into him. Atton.

Warm. Soft. Solid and easy and safe.

It takes him much longer to relax into the hug, but even he can only be vigilant in the face of comfort so long. He breathes in and out slow and steady, rustling her hair with every breath. 

She calms. She still has that knowledge she once had. The training. Even if the majority of it is useless to her now, calming herself with meditation was etched into her very soul. She needed it then, and after. More than anything else, the after.

Sharra runs her hand down his chest, just a touch. "We could leave. M'sure they'd be happy to watch us go."

"Mm. Sure. I support running from our problems."

She looks up at him, resting her chin on his chest.

"Our problems include homicidal droids, probable attempted murder and being locked up in a force cage for a week. Why can't we run?"

"I guess Coorta might follow us," he muses. "But hey, outside the station I could just shoot him." 

"Not if we take the only way off the station with us."

"The freighter? Yeah, he's not slick enough to sneak onto a ship without us noticing," he admits. "Isn't it grounded, though? Some kind of damage to the hyperdrive?" 

"I'm no ship mechanic but I might be able to fix it with some help. I've done some work on hyperdrives before."

"...it came in with a couple utility droids," he suggests, "They might know something about it. Probably need a kick in the can if they aren't already at work on the station, though."

She reaches up to touch his face. Running her thumb lightly over his jaw.

"Really gonna run away with me? I don't have a lot of money. They're not going to pay us after we skimp out on our contracts with a stolen ship."

He smirks, "Hey, I'm a pilot, you're a mechanic; we could do some shipping, maybe a little smuggling on the side..."

"Have you been thinking about this since you learned it was a freighter?"

"Maybe," he admits nothing. "Wasn't really planning to live out my days as a security grunt on a backwater mining station that could blow up at any moment, though." 

"It's not so bad. But I do miss. Everything. The freedom of travel. Being able to dictate my own schedule. Not having Coorta lurking around every corner waiting to jump me and sell me off into slavery."

"I could get my hands on a mining drill and up the intensity," he muses. 

"Maybe before you brought a gun into the lower levels, you could have," she says, laughing.

He shrugs! "If we're abandoning ship anyway, wanna go through the secure storage and take some contraband? They have a stealth field generator," he tempts. 

"...why is there a stealth field generator in secure storage? Why would someone bring one to a mining facility in the outer rim??"

"Before my time. But hey, all sorts end up in places like this, don't they?" 

She kisses him! "It wasn't my first choice, and I have only a few regrets, considering everything."

Kiss! "Well, I'm full of regrets. Let's get out of here before we make more of them?" 

"Tonight? I was thinking we could spend tomorrow preparing, at the very least..."

"Depends on how long it takes you to fix the ship." 

She thinks about it while she starts to untuck his shirt from his pants.

"Can you bring up the report? If they made one. They've been skimping a bit, from what Uthuar has been saying."

He shifts a bit to make her work easier, "I can give it a go," he agrees. 

He's so accommodating. She moves as well, straddling him, then running her hands over his stomach. He's warm and still a little sweaty from his day. She runs her nails lightly over him.

"Where would we go first? This is my first time being on the run in a stolen ship."

"Mm... Telos? First stop out of the asteroid belt... Then again, they're the ones who'll get the report when we steal the ship." 

"And Nar Shaddaa has a big Exchange presence..."

She leans into him more and kisses his neck. Her hands move to his side, continuing her light sharp touches.

"There are more planets in the galaxy than Nar Shaddaa and Telos..." He trails off, raising his hands to hold her waist, thumbs brushing up and down. "Not Hutt, not Republic..." 

His belt is an obstacle she will overcome. She starts working his neck with just a hint of sharp teeth.

"Lotsa colony worlds in need of supplies."

"Mmm... I've got... contacts in the Rim," he admits. He drags his hands up her sides, thumbing the underside of her breasts through her suit. 

Likes his hands. His touch. She closes her eyes and bites a little harder, as a treat.

"Trustworthy?" she asks, as she finally unlatches his belt and runs her hand down, palming him through his tight tight pants.

-he presses up into her hand, "Hhha, no one's- trustworthy-" he squeezes! 

Mmmwrong, but - she licks his neck and then leans back up to catch him into a heady kiss.

"Can trust me," she whispers against his lips, just as she slips inside his pants and wraps around his cock. "I take care of what's mine."

His eyelids squeeze shut and he moans, muffled in her lips. A shudder runs down his body, and he twitches in her hand, precum pebbling at his tip and wetting her fingers.

Good boy. She swallows his moan and begins to move her hand. Feels so good under her. Her Atton. Must be so ache and pain from the day. She kisses him again, then shifts her weight, pushing back and moving down his body to settle over his crotch.

- she licks his tip, lathering her tongue with his cum.

His hands slip to rest to either side, holding himself to the floor. Almost all of his attention is focused intently on her tongue, her hands, her body against his. 

He can be good. For her. Anything for her. Anything she wants.

Everything. She takes him. Drawing him out, with her hands and mouth and teeth and eventually, takes him inside. Riding him hard and fast, holding him down. He's hers. She takes and takes and takes. Filling up that empty space inside her with him and his body and thoughts and feelings and -

Everything is hazy and filmy except for her and him. Warmth and closeness, and silence. There's nothing in his head except warm, post-coital relaxation and the bliss of holding her in his arms. 

Whatever's going on outside can just shut up for now. 

Nothing is going on outside. Just nose kisses and happy snuggles.

It's not his problem, anyway. 

She buries her face against his neck. "You smell," she says, very muffled.

"Oh yeah?"

Licks! Licklick. "Sooo bad."

"Fresher's just over there," he doesn't gesture, but she probably knows where it is anyway. "Could take a sonic before you go." 

But licks!

"Maybe I like it."

"Mmm..." He runs his fingers through her hair, "You gonna like it after I spend another five hours in the cage?"

"Probably. But the others might riot and space you."

"After all the hard work you put in saving my ass?" 

She squeezes said ass. "You call what I just did saving?"

"Oh yeah," he rolls his hips under her, "It's what all the kids are calling it these days." 

She laughs and kisses him, then continues into giggles.

"Need to get back to work anyway. Uthuar will probably appreciate me not smelling like sex and cage-boy sweat."

"The cage sweat would be new, at least," he admits. "Alright," he levers himself up under her, helping her to her feet. "Ugh," he adds, gingerly stretching out his back. 

She hups! And then wraps around him to press her fingers deep into the muscles of his lower back.

"You're so old."

"I'm in my prime," he counters, wincing as she digs her fingers in, "Normally people don't lie on the floor."

"It was either the floor or on our feet. I doubt you could hold me for long."

She moves her fingers and finds a solid knot - presses her fingers deep.

"Mmmmn," he arches into it, "Fuck- right there-"

She watches his face, hungry, and presses her thumb right there, massaging it out.

He hisses, slumping into her a bit. 

"...mmn. Thanks," he kisses her shoulder, "S'better." 

"Selfish. Watching you squirm is my favourite pastime." She leaves him with one last snuggle, then pulls him over to the fresher. "Only pastime?"

"So no double career as a masseuse?"

He pulls up behind her just outside the sonic, pulling off his tunic and shirt and sliding his pants and underwear down, shoving the whole ensemble into the sink and setting the thing to give them a quick clean. It won't be as thorough as a sonic clothes cleaner, but better than nothing. 

Sharra, having taken off her suit and underwear already, throws her bra and tank top into pile.

"Traveling masseuse? That could be our big break. Though all the others I've heard of were also offering sex as part of the service..."

"Guess I'll have to be on-guard for anyone who tries to push for that, then." Into the sonic with them! 

Sonic sonic sonic. Clean clean clean. More kisses and a little bit of grabby. Since it's right there.

Well, so it is. He does some grabbing of his own. 

Some time later, they emerge from the fresher with clean skin and cleanish clothes. 

"...cage time?" He asks, glancing over at the clock on the console. 

Hm. "Better. Bee will be here soon to take over watch till tonight. Unless you think you could convince her to let you stay out."

"Unlikely," he shrugs. "You wanted to see that report first? On the freighter." 

"Oh, yeah. Let's have a look at what I'll be working with. And our future home."

He pulls it up for her, then. 

Apparently, the ship called the Ebon Hawk had drifted into the asteroid belt and was towed into the station to prevent it from crashing into any of the volatile asteroids. Aboard, security personnel found two damaged utility droids, a working protocol droid, and the body of an elderly woman. The utility droids were placed in storage in the hangar bay control room, the body placed into the morgue, and the protocol droid was put to work assisting the lead mechanic, first in assessing the damage to the freighter, and then in his usual work. 

As far as Uthuar could determine, the major issue was that the ship's hyperdrive had been somehow damaged. Not being skilled at fixing hyperdrives, he'd chosen to leave that to the station administration's discretion while he fixed up some damage to the bulkheads and minor issues in the life support system. As it was, the only problem remaining was that one thing he couldn't fix. 

"Mmm. Surprised he didn't ask me to have a look at it..." She moves closer to the console, pressing her back against his chest and pulling his arm around her waist. She navigates over to the blueprints. "I've been on a few dynamic-class ships before... he lent me out to the mech," she mumbles, thinking back to- she shakes her head and focuses. "Did he fix the utility droids?"

"Doesn't seem like it. Should still be in the storage closet in hangar control." 

"I'll grab them when I go speak to him," she says, nodding, sends the data to her 'pad, then turns into him. "I'll drop back by soon with a pillow? And another snack."

"Grab my cards? Give me something to do while I'm languishing in prison." 

"Will do," she says, with a kiss. "I'll get this done quick, maybe even tonight. Tomorrow at the latest. You won't have to suffer too long for your misdeeds."

Kiss, "I wasn't going to use it," he grumbles again. "See you tonight, then." 

Tonight. One last kiss and then off she goes, pulling her jumpsuit up over her shoulders and zipping it up. The least amount of ire she can collect, the better. Griy will take any excuse to make her life harder, especially after all the chaos. Sharra heads over to the 'lifts, nodding at the few people she passes on the way. No Coorta, thankfully, or any of his minions.

Maybe her luck is finally running true?

The dormitory lifts are past the medbay, where the dead woman who'd been found in the Ebon Hawk was left. She  has to pass Griy in security on the way there, but he ignores her, this time.

Sharra ignores him too! She's very busy.

...the morgue. Right. She is stealing the woman's probable ship. It feels a lot slimy to not pay her respects, at the very least. And- she looks Attonwards

He's probably very bored! If he was there, though, he'd probably tell her to stuff the old woman, she has things to do and she's dead, anyway. 

Good point.

Sharra moves on past and takes the lift to the dorms.

She has to pass through the refectory on her way to the actual barracks, where she receives some waves and she can drop off her and Rand's trash from their meal. Then she can move into the first barracks itself, where Atton's room is just inside to the right. 

Hmmm. She digs out his cards, first thing. They're hidden in a little hidey-hole that she only figured out the other day. She doesn't know why he didn't just put his blaster in there. Would have saved them both a lot of grief.

She snatches up his bag, next, and stuffs his pillow inside... and a few change of clothes... and...

...there are a few other things in that little hideyhole. Some credit chits, a box of datapads, another box filled with Hutt coins, and a small device of some sort, one she doesn't recognize. 

Well. She might as well take them now and stash them in the storage compartment near the hanger... hm. No reason right now for her to be searched, which might change later. Sharra bites her lip and tucks them inside the pillow, then the bag. Annnything else she should grab? She squints around his room.

Nothing else yanks her attention like the things in the little nook had. Maybe she should stop by her room and grab her stash of hidden items too, though? While she's here. 

Pocket Atton has a point. She doesn't have much, really, just her own Hutt currency and the 'pad she uses for art and music. And her own pillow. She'd just gotten her hands on a new one, no way she was leaving without it. Lastly she stuffs her very few articles of clothing into her own bag and slings them over her shoulder. Nothing to see here, just going to be spending a few days in lock-up!

She heads on back to lift three to make the trek to the hanger.

Everyone knows what Atton did at this point, and that she'd be spending a few days sleeping with him up on the Admin level, so she receives no odd looks on her way there. Up on the level in question, she has to walk all the way back to the other end to take lift one down to the fuel depot, and then make her way through the halls and across the catwalk above the fuel lines to reach the hangar bay. 

She makes the detour back to lock-up and her suffering boy. And the aforementioned Bee?

The aforementioned Bee is sitting in a chair near the security console reading a datapad and ignoring the prisoner. She powers the cage down when Sharra arrives to allow her to pass Atton his pillow and cards. 

He gives her a thankful kiss, "Have fun terrorizing the droids." 

Kisskiss! "These ones did nothing wrong. Probably. Though I might look into whether they have anything to do with what's going on with the others..."

On top of everything else she's doing.

"I'm sure they've done something," he grumbles. 

Patpat. She opens up his bag, making sure to shield it from the uncaring Bee.

"Want anything else? I forgot to get a snack..."

"I'll survive," he shrugs, glancing down into the bag. He raises an eyebrow. 

"You'll be back soon enough, anyway," he says, rather than commenting. 

She nods, then shoulders their bags, less her own pillow. "If you put your ass on this, I will destroy it."

"Promises," he smirks up at her, taking a seat on his own pillow with hers settled into his lap. 

She runs her fingers through his floppy hair, then gives him another pet.

Which is where she leaves him. And Bee. Who she just gives a little wave of thanks.

Bee waves back. 

Off to lift 1, now? 

Lift 1! And then she will cut through the fuel depot towards 5, hopefully not running into anyone in particular.

She passes a single maintenance worker, but they're busy working at a console, and don't do more than offer an absent-minded greeting as she passes. 

The hangar bay, meanwhile, is entirely empty. Up the ramp to the right, the freighter is visible through the window, cream and brown and wearing a few visible patches where something had wrenched it open before it drifted into the asteroid belt. The door leading down into the bay is across the room from the door she'd entered through. Meanwhile, the storage room where the utility droids were reportedly left is to the left of the door. 

She stares at the ship for a very very long moment. Eyes drifting over it slowly. Not the nicest looking ship she's come across. Obviously been through a lot. A lot a lot. And yet... she's charmed.

The Ebon Hawk. She wonders how it got that name.

She wonders if it'll be a good place to raise children.

It's a rugged little ship, but well-made! Maybe it could be a good home. 

She has a good feeling about it.

Finally, she drags her eyes away from the Ebon Hawk and makes her way over to the storage bay and the droids.

The droids are locked up past another door inside, in a little half-dug tunnel into the asteroid at the back of the storage room. Luckily, she has the credentials to open the locked door without any trouble. 

Inside, she finds the two droids. One is a T3-series, with their signature circular dome. 

The other is a familiar T7-series, olive-painted and customized by the hands of a skilled mechanic. 

Both appear to be offline. 

buh???

Actually nevermind, this one is not offline!

<Little Jedi!> T7-I17 - or Isk, to their friends - whistle-screeches at her, their lens lighting up with the distant speck of white that signifies their active state, <What is little Jedi doing here?!> 

Sharra drops her bags and her back hits door. Panic and terror and - she can't breath.

The droid rolls up to her and sticks a proboscis into her face, poking her, <Breathe!> they demand. 

She's breathing!!!! Too much!!!

"Isk???" she somehow manages to get out. Does that mean - is he - she begins to hyperventilate in earnest. Panic-panic-terror-Atton- she needs to get -

They poke her again, harder this time, <Your systems are overheating. Run cooling protocols.> 

- Sharra squeezes her eyes tight and -

goes through the motions of meditation. Calming, calming, there is only - no. Her heart picks up again and she tries to switch tracks

in - in - in - out. In and out. She repeats this. Over and over and over.

Isk retracts their arm, monitoring the little Jedi's progress as she calms. 

Behind them, the other droid whistles softly, rolling gently back and forth.

She opens her eyes and stares at her former master's droid companion.

"Are you okay? I have my tools here with me."

<Fully functional. Allowed station personnel to believe these droids were both damaged. Look at T3-M4.>

She nods and follows their orders. "Can you give me a damage report, T3?"

T3 does so! His back right tread is stuck, in a way Isk couldn't fix with their built-in tools. His internal systems and Isk have fixed most of the damage to his chassis, but he needs an entire new wheel. He can move without it, but only very slowly. 

Well she can patch the wheel temporarily and give him mostly full functionality, and then head to her workshop and pick up a replacement for the long term. He'll have to be careful though, until then. No high speed menuvours. Or any menuvours at all, really.

<Understood!> he beeps. He shuffles back and forth, carefully, and beeps happily. 

Isk is prodding at the bags she'd dropped, <Going?>

"There's been trouble. My partner and I were going to take the ship and get out of here. There's something wrong with the other droids and a group of the miners have been taking advantage of the chaos. We think they're planning something, maybe directed at me."

Isk blats, <Assassin droid. Designation HK-50. Still on-station?>

"...assassin droid?" She stands! And pulls out her 'pad. "HK? That's the protocol droid? Let me—"

She quickly swipes through to the report Atton sliced for her.

Yep, there it is, hiding in plain sight as a protocol droid. 

<Based on stupid rust head stupid Jedi built. HK-47. Origins of HK-50 unknown.>

Stupid Jedi—? Ignoring it.

"Griy assigned the droid to Uthuar, the head mechanic; my boss. I don't know where it's gone from there, but. Why is it here? What's going on? Atton mentioned something about a bounty? But I'm not a Jedi anymore, it can't be here for me."

<Bounty only demands force-sensitive. This droid was on Republic vessel bound for this station. Republic knows little Jedi is here. Want your help. Assassin snuck on-board.>

"There are no force-sensitives here. The Council made sure of that. I can't help you."

<...Assassin droid does not care. Cannot determine force ability.>

Sharra sighs and closes her eyes. Breathing.

"If the assassin is behind the chaos with the mining droids, and the assassin is after me... just makes the current plan when more urgent. Need to fix the Hawk's hyperdrive and get the fuck out of here. No reason to continue killing people if your quarry is elsewhere."

Isk whistles agreement. 

<Droids will assist,> they tell Sharra, <T3-M4 unable to fix, needed new part. Part has been found now.>

T3 whistles happily! He trundles a bit to the side to reveal a small box that had been hidden behind him. 

<T3 will fix! Friend Jedi proud of T3!> 

...cute. She bends to lie a hand on T3 and also take a look in the box.

"What does the Republic need help with?" she directs to Isk.

T3 chirps happily in response to her hand, his dome wiggling a little under her palm. The box contains a few odds and ends, including a somewhat uncommon part not ordinarily associated with Dynamic-class freighters. A sign of the modifications to the ship, probably. 

<Unclear. Stupid Admiral told Harbinger to find little Jedi. This droid did not hear why.> 

"Well. Regardless, I'm not a Jedi and I don't have a connection to the Force, so I wouldn't be able to help anyway." She sighs sharply and does not let her fear and anxiety take hold. "This is what we need to fix the ship?"

T3 whistles again and Isk beeps a single affirmative beep. 

<Will transfer ownership of ship to little Jedi,> Isk informs her, <Belonged to Stupid Jedi. Inheritance,> they whistle, somehow smug. 

Not a Jedi.

"Thank you. Make your way down to the ship and get started on the repairs. Do you know how long they'll take? I'm going to go get my partner and collect a few things from my workshop. I'll grab anything you think we'll need."

<Not long! T3 will be quick! Six standard minutes!>

"I'll run then," she says, petting him again. Atton wasn't wearing his comm when she left him, and she has all his 'pads here... "If you can live with the patch wheel for a little while, I'll be even quicker."

<Fast enough,> T3 agrees. 

<Will take bags,> Isk is in fact reaching out a hook-arm to scoop them up, <Will move faster unburdened.> 

"...I'm glad to see you again, Isk. I missed you."

Isk prods her with their hook, <Missed you. You will stay with this droid, this time,> they demand then, drawing out their binary into more words for once, <I taught you better than to be stupid.> Unlike some people.

Becoming a Sith Lord and trying to take over the Republic kinda stupid?

"Once the drive is fixed, begin start up. My partner is in lock up right now, and getting him out will probably cause commotion. We'll want to be hot and ready to go the moment we land on deck."

The beep their agreement, and then they roll past her, T3 following in their wake with the box of parts. 

She is not going to undo everything she's worked all these years for. She is not.

Sharra gets back to her feet and makes her way back to the lift. They're getting out of here. She's going to collect Atton from his cell, there will be no problems — he's needed somewhere, an emergency, Bee trusts her — and they will make their way to the Ebon Hawk without any trouble and get the fuck out of here.

There's someone waiting in front of the lift when she enters the room outside. One of the miners, Kove. He has a mining laser in his hand, and a nervous look on his face. 

She continues into the room.

"Hey, Kove. How's Kelleani? Popped out the little one yet?"

-he flinches, and raises the laser, pointing it at her. 

"Don't move," he orders, all false confidence. 

She continues to the lift.

"I'm just going to go see Atton, you can come with me, if you want."

He growls, shaking the laser at her, "I'll shoot! Stop!" 

The lift opens behind him, revealing another human, Renil, tall and rangy and generally avoided for his hair-trigger temper and cutting words. He also holds a mining laser, and he steps up beside Kove with a scowl, "Useless idiot, hold that straight. Stop moving, Garon. Kove might be a soft sack of shit, but I'll shoot you."

"For what? You really think Coorta is going to split whatever creds he thinks he's gonna get with you? You know him just as well as I do."

"He'll split it or he'll regret it," he says, unimpressed, "Now turn around and stop making a fuss." 

Mrrrrrr.

She turns around. "They're not going to give him anything. They're after Jedi, and I am no Jedi."

Coorta is in front of her now! He was behind her before, and now he is pointing a laser in her face.

"That so? I heard different." 

— she only jumps a little.

"If I were a Jedi, this would be going very differently."

He rolls his eyes, "Barely trained Jedi's still a Jedi. There's a holo floating around, you know, you as a little apprentice and all." 

She's not going to explain herself to this asshole. "What happens now? You're going to give me up to some assassin droid and, what, be showered in non existent credits?"

"We're taking you to the exchange. Come on," he steps to the side a little, gesturing for her to move past him, back into the hall leading to the hangar. 

Alive, then?

She moves quickly, lashing out with her palm and strikea him in the throat. She ducks down immediately and throws herself back and through the other men, into the lift.

Shut!

No shut! Also there's yet another man in the lift, and her sudden entrance startles him into shooting her in the shoulder! 

Screaming!

She throws herself into him, and into the wall, with said shoulder. While still more screaming.

SHUT.

Kove catches the door before it can shut! He also hovers uncertainly in the doorway, unsure what to do next as she and the fourth man scuffle and scream. 

His colleague pushes past him, "Useless," he reiterates, and then he wades into the fight to help subdue her. 

She KICKS him in the DICK and elbows the other in the FACE.

-he makes a sort of breathless squeaky noise, staggering to the side. The other one - one of the new guys, he'd come in with the latest fuel pickup from Telos - accepts the punch to the face with a grunt and the crack of broken cartilage, continuing to grapple with her unabated. 

Kove moves in front of the lift console, laser pointed but uncertain where to shoot with all the flailing. 

She doesn't really know what all happens with the new guy, but she does know that he eventually gets thrown into Kove, and also that her shoulder is PAIN.

They collapse into a pile in front of the lift controls, struggling to get apart and only making it worse.

With all his minions out of the way, Coorta shoots into the lift! He misses, but he sure is shooting!

If she WERE a Jedi she would — slam the fucking lift shut!

-the doors rattle, lightly. Her attackers don't notice, busy untangling themselves and trying to subdue her. 

Coorta shoots into the lift again! His shot misses once more, but it's closer this time, hitting the ground near enough to her hand to burn a little. 

Renil grabs hold of her before anyone else can do anything stupid, gripping her wrists together in one large hand while his other arm goes around her waist to hold her still. 

She's still.

"-right," Coorta lowers his mining laser with a burst of breath, gesturing to Renil, "Come on, we're meeting on the ship." 

Renil half-carries her out of the lift. The other two follow, keeping their weapons trained on her. 

Her arm hangs limp. She looks at it, numb and ears ringing and dizzy —

she's standing on the bridge, saber clipped to her belt, sirens loud, eyes reflecting the planet below, death

She's not bleeding, at least. Probably she will lose the arm.

The station walls pass her by as they make their way to the Hawk. One man stays behind to unlock the hangar bay doors, to allow them to leave once the ship is running. The others carry and surround her up the ramp and inside the freighter. 

There's a small medbay a short ways inside. Her most immediate captor drops her on the bed and makes to start strapping her in. The others have a brief, muffled conversation, before one makes for the engine room, and the other moves towards the cockpit. 

"Nar Shaddaa?" It's the obvious destination.

"Quiet," says Renil.

And then he jerks suddenly upright, a strangled noise escaping his mouth, and falls to the ground.

A soft whistle comes from just below the surface of the examination table she lies on, and then T3 lifts his dome up just far enough that she can see him.

"Thank you, T3. Please cut the ties, my left arm is injured."

Concerned beep! He does as asked, his little soldering attachment serving to slice through the straps. His lens flutters side to side as he takes in her injured shoulder. 

The mining laser instantly cauterized the wound, but the arm itself is barely hanging on.

"We'll use the straps," she says, still numb. "Help me get it around my chest."

<Understood,> he beeps, and helps her do that, little manipulator arms helping her hold her arm to her chest and tuck and tie the straps in place.

Success. Her arm will no longer fall off, for now. If she gets to some kolto in a timely manner, probably she will be fine and regain use of it.

"You fixed the hyperdrive?"

<Yes!> He beeps a happy affirmative, <Ready to go. Rude man offline in engine room,> he adds, <Eject before leaving?>

"Yes. We'll drop him in the hanger before we take off." She bends and picks up the man's fallen laser. "Do that and I'll take care of the one in the cockpit. On your way, if you're connected to the stations security, put the station on alert and send the mechanic Uthuar a summary of what just happened."

There's a shout from the cockpit! And then a crash.

<Isk in communication,> T3 beeps, <Isk very skilled at offlining rude men!>

Nothing has changed then.

"Get them both off the ship then, man the turret and shoot anyone that tries to get onboard. I'm going to get my partner."

<Repair kit!> T3 rolls around the unconscious Rude Man and pokes open a drawer, revealing some - somewhat old, so less effective, but likely still usable - kolto patches. 

<T3 will take rude man to ramp,> he says then, trusting her to look after herself. He grabs hold of Runil and starts dragging him out of the medbay. 

Sharra grabs the patches and gets moving. She can't exactly put them on herself with one hand, which is why she has an Atton.

She makes her way out of the medbay, right behind T3, and is off the ship and heading back to the lift in the next minute.

She encounters no one on her way up the ramp to or on her way through the control room!

Lucky her. Maybe she won't have to kill anyone today.

The door to the storage room is ajar, but then she'd left it that way when she left to find Atton the first time. 

She had not, however, left Atton himself there. A bit of an inconsistency, as he steps out from behind some crates inside when she passes.

"Sharra!" 

There is now a hole in the crates, centimeters to his left.

-he jerks to the right a few centimeters as the shot lands, widening the space between himself and the shot.

"Sithspit! It's me!" He holds his hands up!

She drops the laser to the floor. "We have to go. Now."

"No shit we have to go now, the droids are in full revolt up there," he says, approaching her now. He has both their pillows in hand, acting as impromptu sacks.

"And- your shoulder!" 

He leans down for a better look, hands hovering over the injury. 

She hands him the kolto patches. "Protocol droid is an assassin. Must have convinced Coorta and his goons to help it grab me."

He takes them and starts patching her up! 

"The droid? Hells," he huffs, "Not surprised it was a droid behind all the killer droids, but Coorta wouldn't work with one of them. He trusts 'em less than I do." 

"S'smart. Based on a design of Revan's," she says, mumbling a little. "Impersonated?"

He nods, "Could have taken a voiceprint and manipulated a holocall," he agrees. "Doesn't matter, really. It had total access to mechanical. Speaking of, I passed mechanical on my way here, seemed like Uthuar had the place locked up to keep the mining droids out. Seems like they've pretty much taken over the station. I didn't see any bodies on my way down here, though. Their lasers weren't even making a mark on the durasteel," he adds, thinking back, somewhat surprised. 

"Routine to lower the settings if any of their parameters changed. Should be stuck there," she says, shaking her head. "If we go, it should stop. It'll follow, no reason to continue killing."

She takes his arm and starts to pull him back to the ship.

"-I'm not done!" he squawks, nimble fingers just saving the half-used kolto pack he was setting over her wound. Still, he follows her down the ramp despite his protests. 

Busy! More pulling and running towards the Hawk. Probably bypassing Coorta and his crew on the way?

Indeed, and Atton does a double-take as they pass the three of them on the ground outside the ship, "Kove, really? Wouldn't have taken him for it."

"Creds," is all she has to say to that. Up the ramp they go. "Push off!" she shouts to Isk, once they're inside. "He'll take over once we're clear of the station."

"Who're you talking to?" 

A beeped acknowledgement comes over the ship-wide intercom. 

T3 whistles a greeting, <All rude men ejected!> 

"Oh. Joy, more droids." 

Onwards to the cock-pit. "T7-I17 and T3-M4. T7 was Revan's droid companion when I was a padawan. I trust them."

"Oh, sure, if it was Revan's companion," he mutters. "And stop moving and let me put this patch on, damn it!" 

Just then, the ship lifts off with the barely-there feeling of subtle vibration. 

- she stops, because this will be quicker. "You said he saved the Republic."

"-yeah." 

He takes the opportunity to stick the patch back on, over her wound, holding it there until it properly sticks. Conveniently it means he doesn't have to look at her just now. 

<Require navigation charts to escape asteroid belt,> Isk calls over the comm. 

"-I have those," he huffs, "Hold this on," he demands of her, "Need to go enter them into the navigation computer."

She nods and does as he demands.

And he vanishes down the hall to go do that. 

<Rude,> T3 diagnoses. 

Terrified-guilty-suspicious-betrayed-on the edge of a wide fathomless void about to-

"No," she says instead. Everything starts throbbing, her arm finallyfinally screaming in agony. The lights of the Hawk pierce into her brain and everything goes sharp-hard. "Where. Am I need," she manages to get out.

T3 whistles concern! 

<Friend Mechanic damaged,> he rolls over to her, settling under her good arm, <Charging station?> 

"...Isk on the turrets?"

<T3 will check! Friend Mechanic sit!>

He trundles out from under her arm and down the hall to communications and the cockpit.

Sharra. Starts to make her way over to the medbay.

Pain.

A short time later, Isk appears at her side. 

<Little Jedi,> they prod her carefully, <T3-M4 on turret. Will stay. Damage report.>

"I felt it. The Force."

She receives a short blat and another prod, <Damage to chassis,> they clarify, before adding, <This droid cannot advise on Force.>

"It's been twenty-one years, Isk."

<Work-around for damaged wiring?> they suggest, after a moment, <This droid did nothing. Attempt cooling protocols?>

She struggles not to immediately follow the order.

"Where is he?"

<Unknown Regions. Ordered T3-M4 to bring ship back. Sought Sith. Stupid Jedi,> they add, <Found Sith before. Became Sith.> 

She doesn't understand. Understands the words and the meaning, but -

"I'm going to pass out."

Beep! <Will guard.>

They nudge her towards the medbay bed, which she will be able to fall on without effort. 

Yeah.

She feels worry. Foreign, and fuzzy, but there.

She feels a hand brushing through her hair. 

Thirsty. Leans into her Atton. Wanting more.

"Don't leave," she mumbles, tongue thick and dry.

The hand pauses. 

She opens her eyes and looks up at him. "We'll run."

He keeps petting her.

"We're running, actually," he tells her, "Well, not right now. Right now we're orbiting a moon a few systems away." 

She tucks herself closer to him. "Knew you'd get us safe."

"Ship's got a lot of quirks," he shifts on the bed, sliding an arm under her, "But I know what I'm doing." 

Presses so so so close into him. Face against his chest. Safe.

"Best pilot in the galaxy," she echoes.

He tightens his grip, "With a pilot like me and a mechanic like you, we'll really be going places. No one'll be able to compete." 

Buries her nose into him and breathes deep. Hers. Isn't leaving her. But...

"The Republic and the Exchange are looking for me. Don't know why."

"...did someone put out a bounty on you or something?" 

"He – Coorta – said he had a holo of me from when I was a padawan. So."

He nods, "So the Jedi bounty. The rumours paint that reward pretty high." 

...she nods.

"I'm not a Jedi."

"Sure, but if there's holos of you as a padawan kicking around, it's not like anyone's gonna care that you're not part of the order anymore. They'll show off the holos and they'll show off you and then they'll take their cash." 

True. And yet.

"I mean," she starts. Stops. Closes her eyes and breathes in him. She can do this. "After the war. I was exiled. And. The Council cut me off from the Force."

"-didn't know they could do that. Which war?" 

"Mandalorian. It was news to me then too."

"Shit, how old are you? I mean, I know you're near-human, and Jedi age weird- but if you don't have the force-"

"Thirty-six? Or thirty-five. One of those. I'm sephi, amongst other things."

"Huh. Explains the hair. So you were with Revan, then, back before everything." 

She nods against his chest.

"He was my master. I haven't seen him since — since the war." The end of the war.

He- squints down at her. 

"You were- you're General Vikaré." 

Nod.

"Pretty sure you're supposed to have died at Malachor. In all the official files, I mean." 

"I was comatose for months, after. When I woke I was blind and deaf and — the Force was gone. I couldn't reach it. I had to relearn how to breath and see and touch..." She curls up small against him, remembering. "It was over a year later that I found myself in front of the Council."

He shifts to accomodate her, but, "Hang on, I thought you said the Council did it? Broke your connection." 

"They — must have. They did. What we, what I did at Malachor was the antithesis of everything the Force was. Is. Jedi can reach over vast distances in times of need. They didn't deny it."

"-well that's even more terrifying, then. Doing that halfway across the galaxy," he shakes out his free wrist. "But anyway, it's not like anyone really knew what that thing was going to do, right?" 

"We built it. We knew."

"Mm." 

He accepts this.

"So. Everythug and their mother thinks you're a Jedi. You're not a Jedi, but it doesn't really matter, because they're after you anyway. Not like 'not being a Jedi' is something you can prove to every bulkheaded idiot you meet." 

"You're right. People don't just stop being Jedi — force users. I've never heard of it outside myself. Anything I say will just be ignored, especially with my face out there." But. She continues. "There was a moment, in the lift, when I was fighting Coorta and his men. I think... maybe I'm wrong. I was in pain and high on adrenaline, but. I think it was there. The Force. Just for a split moment..."

"...don't Sith use pain to make their force shit more powerful?"

"...not something I ever learned. But that sounds plausible. I always had trouble controlling my emotions, and that made my connection to the Force powerful. Unstable, but powerful. I spent a lot of time in meditation. I can see how pain would act similarly."

"So do you want to try it again?"

"No."

"You sure?" 

"I hurt so many people. I've. They did it for a reason. At this point I've lived more of my life without. I don't. I can't."

He nods, "Okay then."

She reaches up to touch his jaw. Needs to shave.

"So we run. Sell this ship, they know we have it now and we could get a lot of credits for it. Then... just you and me?"

"Sounds good to me." 

There is an irritated beep from the hallway! 

She kisses him, then turns to look out to the doorway.

"If you're going to eavesdrop and have opinions, you should just come inside, Isk."

They will do just that, then! 

<Not leaving without this droid,> they tell Sharra.

<Ship difficult to trace,> they add. <For smuggling. Comm scramblers. Fast. Many licenses. Compartments. Change paint? Change name?> 

Atton's eyes narrow, "Right, and the droids," he grumbles. 

"Isk, I understand where you're coming from. I appreciate everything you did for us on the station, things would have gone a lot worse if not for you and T3. But it's been twenty years. I'm not a padawan anymore. Not a child. I can't help you or the Republic."

They blat, <This droid does not care. Will stay with little Jedi.> 

She closes her eyes, slightly overcome with anger, frustration and pain. Then:

"Pick a new name. I'm not a Jedi anymore and I haven't been for a very long time."