"Hey! Thanks, yeah, sure, what did the people have to say while we were gone? Who even has this number?" The chief would have contacted them directly.

Sharra takes off her new warm coat and places it on the back of a chair.

<Czerka Corporation. Ithorian Cooperative,> they beep in response, <Both ask assistance in reconstruction project. Ask to meet.> 

"Czerka?" she makes a face at Atton. "Never heard of the Ithorian Cooperative," she says, as she unhosters her new blaster. "Why would they need our help? That's way above our pay grade."

<Agents at station told them Jedi was here.>

"Ugh, Czerka," he agrees, "They're handling supply and shipping contracts," he explains then, "and the Ithorians are in charge of the actual re-greening effort."

"I suppose having Ithorians be in charge makes sense. They're all about pacifism and nature. Still don't know why they want our help though." She leans against the table. Hmmmm. "They'd have a presence on the planet's surface, wouldn't they?"

"Yeah, they'd have to. Czerka's running security, but the actual agriculturists and the people handling the animals would be working under the Ithorians." 

He sets his bags down on the sofa, sprawling out on the surface next to them.

"You think they could help us hunt down wherever the ship went?"

"Unless your 'mate' Delvin has a better idea."

"He could probably smuggle us down, but, I'll be real, I wouldn't wanna pay the price he'd ask."

She makes her way to the couch, squints at his bags, and then sprawls herself over his lap. Shopping hard.

"I suppose it depends on what exactly they want help with. Mediation? Surely they don't need a untried padawan for that."

"Might be they don't know you're an 'untried padawan'," he snorts, "Lotta people just hear 'Jedi' and assume they're all wise and serene masters." 

"Could never be me." She reaches across and grabs a bag of salt chips. "Where do they want to meet?" she asks Isk, with a mouthful of chips.

<Ithorian Compound, Residential 082,> Isk reports, <High Priest Chodo Habat.>

"High Priest, huh."

She stuffs some chips in his mouth. "What's up with High Priests?"

He monches them, speaking through the chips: "I dunno, just sounds pretentious."

"Wasn't asking you, was I?"

He huffs, taking another handful of chips. 

<Spiritual Leaders. Converse with 'Mother Jungle'. Suspect Force use.>

"Hm. Might as well hear them out and ask about getting down to the surface. It'll be easier to search for our cluster of eight with our toes in the dirt."

"You wanna meet the Czerka people too?" 

Another face! "No. Gross. I just got all the grease off my everything."

He snorts, "Fair enough. Lunch first?" 

"Yeh. Gimme."

"Gonna need to get off me."

Huff and lifting her legs. "I have to do everything around here."

He snickers as he climbs off the couch, heading to the little kitchen with a few bags in hand. 

"Aldeeranian cream pasta?" he suggests, taking out some ingredients. 

"Mmmmm," she mmms around yet more chips. Then looks to Isk. "Gotu new 'cryption inerface."

They whistle! 

<Gimme,> they say, rolling over to join her at the sofa. 

Atton smirks to himself, turning to focus on unpacking and cooking. 

Sharra gimmes! And reaches into her bag to take out her multitool.

Isk rotates it in their arms, and then passes it back, staying still to let her install it. 

She installs! And also tightens a few slightly loose bits and pieces - grabs some grease (sigh) and carefully applies it to their joints.

She receives many pleased beeps throughout the process!

And by the time she's done, dinner is as well.

"Thought you said you were done with grease for the day," Atton says, bringing their plates over and setting them on the caf table. 

She pets Isk once, and then lets them go to experiment with their new interface- and hups up to wash her hands.

"Grease is the backbone of society," she sighs, mournfully. She kisses him once as she passes. "Smells delicious, thank you."

He smiles, pleased, then ducks his head to dig into his food. 

Hands washed. Twice. And she also digs into her food. Mmm.

"Was thinking about changing my look, a bit, with the holo out there."

He nods, "Gurd irdea. Hir mod?" he swallows his bite, "Go black?" 

Her face crinkles in amusement. "And eyes? Or brown... Much more lowkey."

"Mm," he nods, "Human average. Make you less of a target for slavers, too," he nudges her, smirking. 

"The dangers of being smart and beautiful."

"Exotic," he tugs at a lock of hair, "Black hair isn't gonna make you less beautiful." 

Blush! She reaches up to hold his wrist. "They pay you to say that."

"Hah," he nods, "To lure pretty women astray with my flattery." 

"You should get a pay rise. Hazard pay too," she turns his palm and kisses it. "New name? Sharra Garon is burned."

He brushes her cheek with his fingers, "Well, Vikaré wouldn't be any better..."

Nuzzles. "My creator named me Ashla after the ancient Jedi word for the light side of the Force."

"That's... Nice," he nods. "Why didn't you keep it?" 

"Luke always called me Sharra. He raised me. It was his mother's name."

"You've mentioned him before, but not really... was he a Jedi?" 

"Yeah. He left the Order before I was 'born'. He and my creator were close. Complicated relationship. He and I lived together on Aeos for years before I was taken to Dantooine for training."

"'Aeos'. Never heard of it," he takes a bite of pasta, continuing, "Could say that about a lot of planets, though." 

"It's pretty outer. Monoclimite. Ocean planet with small little islands and underwater caverns. We lived on our own island and had this beautiful little submarine that we dove to the closest underwater port. Natives are aquatic."

He remembers her dream from last night, nodding, "So you like the ocean." 

"Mm," she nods, mouth full. "I've been back since - Luke took me there to recover, after. I think it's my favourite place in the galaxy. You'll love the water. Shining crystal. You can see through it clearly for most of the year."

He swallows a mouthful, "Never really did a lot of swimming," he admits, "Not for fun. Wasn't much water for it where I grew up." 

She rests her chin on her palm. "I'll teach you. We can go diving too. There's this cave I found when I was a kid, I've never shown it to anybody." She oms. "Haven't heard you talk about your childhood. I guess you were avoiding talking about the past altogether though."

"Yeah..." 

He pokes at his food.

She runs her foot up his leg. "You and Luke will get along. He's kind. He appreciates humour. And he never taught me pazaak, but I bet he plays."

"Introducing me to the parents now, huh?" 

She laughs. "Only him. If we ever encounter my creator we should fly the other way."

"That bad?"

"Sith rituals and highly illegal gene modding? That bad."

"Well, the people that raised me weren't sithy, but we should probably run the other way anyway."

"Noted. We can make our own family with pazaak and dancers. On the beach and under the sun."

"Works for me," he shifts closer, "We setting up a resort for the dancers?" 

"Only if you're still my bodyguard and they don't take away my business."

"Don't worry," he assures her, "I'm a one-person bodyguard. Got my hands full with you."

She pulls him even closer for kisses. Creamy kisses.

Delicious; he pulls her up into his lap, hands sliding down, "More than full, really," he comments. 

She moves her kisses to his neck. "No appetite for dessert then?"

"Always got an appetite for dessert," he murmurs, squeezing and tilting his head back-

From their port in the corner, Isk screeches at them, <BEDROOM!>

Sharra wraps around his neck and buries her face against his chest, trying to stifle her giggles.

Bedroom!

He pushes to his feet, bundling her in his arms, and flees the room!

She squints down at her new datapad, then squints up at the numbers on the walls... down at the datapad again.

"I don't know why you made me the navigator," she mumbles, confused. "Why is every section identical."

"Never been to the residential sector either," Atton says, leaning over her shoulder, "I guess it comes with the whole place being prefab?" 

This residential section, like every residential section, is a wide grey hall separated down the middle with a strip of greenery. The walls here are decorated with orange paint, the only difference between section 082 and every other section on the station. 

Glowing signs, labeled in aurebesh, mark out certain doors through the halls. Others are labeled only with numbers, likely apartments as opposed to organizations or communities that make use of the others. 

Residents walk the halls and gather in corners and nooks to chat, filling the air with the susurrus of their voices. The entire place smells like living, growing things, lending the otherwise sterile, spaceship-like ambiance of the station a reminder of what purpose it serves. 

It's... nice. If a little blinding, still. She squints up at the number and then finally puts the 'pad away.

"This is it. Or if it isn't then we're on the complete opposite side of the station from where we're supposed to be."

"Always a possibility..." 

Still, he steps up to the door and presses the control to open it.

Inside, a reception desk stands front and center, the receptionist behind it an Ithorian in blue and white clothing, who turns from their work to look up at them as they enter. 

"Welcome," they greet, in their sonorous Ithorian voice, "How may I help you?"

Arrayed around their desk is more greenery, blue and green leafy plants growing up and out of a pair of tall planters. From one of them, a large white bloom sprouts, releasing a mild but pleasant scent which fills the room with it's gentle perfume. 

Pretty. She gets dazed a little by the smell. But;

"Someone left a message saying they wanted to meet with us? Extension 31678 - 6199."

"Ah! Yes, you are the Jedi Moza spoke of!" they nod to themself, reaching for a button on their desk, "I will open the doors for you now, and inform Chodo Habat of your arrival."

Behind him, they can hear the sound of a door opening beyond the partial wall his desk sits against. Spaces to either side of the desks allow them to continue towards the door behind it, now that they've been welcomed in. 

Sharra winces at the volume and the whole concept of being known as 'the Jedi' that people are talking about.

"...thank you. But for the record, I'm not a Jedi. I was only ever a padawan."

Which doesn't really need a follow up, so she leaves it at that and walks on through.

The receptionist has no particular response to this. 

Behind that wall is the door, as expected, along with another new type of plant, though one she's seen before on a few different planets. Anchored to the rock is a spray of wide roots with a tall, leafy stalk sprouting from them, and blooming pink petals which sprout from the base in a fan of colour. 

Through the open door is a large room full of seating and tables, dotted here and there with more plants. A number of Ithorians are making use of the tables here, others making their way through the room towards other destinations. A fountain flows in one corner of the room, next to a door where another Ithorian - who they may or may not recognize as Moza, the one who had sent them the message earlier that day - awaits them.

"This way, Jedi," he calls upon seeing them, "Chodo Habat waits for you within."

Mrrrrr.

Sharra follows and tries to calm her annoyance.

Atton follows just behind and to the right of her, reaching out to put a hand on her lower back as they pass through a hallway and another door into an office. 

Her annoyance washes away.

She keeps pace with him so they can stay connected. Padawan Sharra Garon is very attached to her lover. Something they have in common.

Chodo Habat, was it?

Presumably! Moza stops just to the side of the other Ithorian in the room. This new person turns to Sharra as she enters.

"Ah," he says, "It gladdens my heart that you came. I am Chodo Habat, leader of the Ithorians here." He glances to Moza, then continues after receiving a nod from him, "I am sorry to impose our troubles upon you, but I did not know where to turn until I sensed your arrival."

"Troubles - my name is Sharra. This is Ryin. What sort of troubles?" She raises her eyebrows. "I don't really know how I could help you. If you need a Jedi, you'll have to look a little further afield..."

He starts at the name she assigns him. The motion is subtle to watchers, but she can feel it fine through his hand at her back. He remains silent, however. 

Chodo Habat nods his head, ponderously, "But you were once a Jedi. I sensed an echo in the Force upon your arrival... it is a subtle disturbance, unless one is actively listening for it." 

"I was a padawan," she says, truthfully. She leans a little more against Atton, a sign of her own nerves, outwardly. "I don't have a very strong connection to the Force."

He hums, low and musical.

"The echo I felt upon your arrival was not a natural thing... It speaks of a great pain, not of the body, but of the spirit."

He watches her, concern in his eyes.

"It is as if you once felt the force flow through you, then it was torn away, brutally and quickly. The echo comes from the hollows where it once flowed through you."

Atton butts in, "So what did you want us for, then?" 

He pauses, adjusting to the change in topic.

"Tell me - do you know of the problems our restoration efforts face?" 

"No. We've only been on the station a day," she says, trying to let her annoyance and anger flow away. She leans more on Atton. "We also received a message from Czerka, if that's relevant."

He nods once more, "I am unsurprised by this." 

He glances out a nearby window, observing the planet below.

"...The Telosian government summoned my herd ship to Citadel Station and asked that we help them rebuild their broken world. We progressed for a time, but then our troubles with Czerka began. The corporation has gained great influence here, and we can do little to stop them." 

He lets out a great sigh through both mouths. 

"I fear that if Czerka continues to interfere in the restoration project, it will never be completed. Telos will remain barren, and lifeless, and all our work - that of the Republic, the Telosians, and my own people - will have been for nothing." 

Sharra thinks of the green and blue, the signs of new life. The feeling of hope it brought her. It was overwhelming. She can't imagine what it would be to the people that lived on the planet before. To the people that are making it grow.

She sighs. Anger and annoyance suddenly gone. Left only with weariness. "Why would they do that? Restoring Telos has to be good for everyone. Money grabbing corporations included."

"Greed," he says, as weary as she, or more, "And short-sightedness. They see only the credits they can make now, and not the value of restoring what has been destroyed, the value of returning a devastated world to life, of returning a home to its people." 

He turns back to her, "But Czerka is a powerful corporation, with many lobbyists in the Senate and throughout the galaxy. Many ears bend to their mouths, many hands grasp for their riches. We have not the kind of power they do." 

Sharra... nods. "You're not looking for money. I don't have any and I definitely don't have any contacts in the Senate. The Jedi Order is gone, so that's a dead end."

"Indeed. What I hope for, instead, is the flexibility of mind and skill the Jedi foster in their adherents, and the altruism and wisdom they are known for. It is my hope that you will see the value of what we do here, and wish to aid us in our mission." 

Sharra rubs her face. "So you're asking me to please figure it out myself and solve your problem."

"No!" He is shocked, and loud with it, before modulating his tone for her ears, "No, of course not. We have plans, ideas of how to resist Czerka, but we have not the skills, nor the ability, to carry them out. We Ithorians... we are not meant for combat, and Czerka has no qualms taking advantage of our nature. We have lost many supplies, even some of our people, to what can only be their interference. We ask only your help protecting some most valuable resources."

Sharra takes a moment to take this all in. Leans back on her heels, against Atton, and considers.

"We can't play bodyguard. Our ship is missing, stolen, and on the surface of the planet somewhere. So that's at the top of our priority list. But." She takes a breath. "I do see the good you're doing here. The value this restoration brings to the universe. To it's people. I want to help you." Her hands find Atton's and she presses her thumb along his palm. Applying pressure. Focussing. "Tell me your plans."

He holds his palm flat for her, his focus intent on Chodo Habat. 

He nods.

"Our priority is to get the Restoration Project moving forward again," he says, "The Republic originally provided a droid intelligence to Citadel Station that would help manage the logistics of the project. It... vanished, some time ago."

She switches to running slow figure eights on his palm with her thumbnail. Nods.

"Okay. Tell me everything you know of it's last known location and the details of it's routine in the few weeks before it went missing. Was it involved in anything in particular?"

"Ah, no. It is not this droid we ask you to assist us with. Unfortunately, it has vanished quite thoroughly, and we have no idea when or where it occurred, nor where it could have gone. It is, instead, the droid we found to replace it that we ask your help with. It will arrive on the station shortly, and we worry that Czerka will take advantage of it's move from the spaceport to this compound to interfere." 

Well. Alright.

"Seems like a... relatively simple escort mission." Not one that quite requires a not-Jedi for, but.

"The droid is vital for our operations, but I suppose you could see it as something of a trial run." 

"Okay. Normally I wouldn't ask for anything in exchange, but we do have need."

He nods lowly, "We are aware. You will require transportation to the surface, in order to search the planet for your ship. The shield arrays interfere with extra-planetary scans, but in the restoration zones it is possible to track those ships which have flown the skies of Telos. In return for your aid in these tasks, we will secure a transport for you." 

She looks up at Atton.

"How long will these tasks take, and how long will you need to secure that transport?" 

He turns to look at Atton, "A matter of days, we hope. It will only take the correct lever to turn the tide against the corporation, and we have already identified what that lever is. Once we have control of the necessary elements of the project once more, we will be able to send people to the planet again. For now it is too dangerous." 

He nods to Sharra, satisfied with their honesty and explanations.

That sorts it then.

"We'll do it. Keep it all verbal, no writing anything down. Do you have the time and port for the drop off, or do we need to come back?"

"My thanks," he thrums, the Ithorian equivalent of a smile, "My people are securing the docking bay now, awaiting the ship which will carry the droid. It will arrive within the next two hours. The Docking Bay is Two, in Dock Module 126. I will send word to them, that they should await your arrival before transporting the droid through the station." 

Hmm. "Tell them to move to another bay. I want it empty by the time the ship drops the droid off."

"Hm. This is a sensible precaution," he agrees. "However, arranging for a different bay will require documentation which Czerka will be able to trace just as easily," he points out. 

"Move to Docking Bay Seven, in the same module," Atton suggests, "Our ship was stolen, but it's still our bay until we officially leave the station. It's empty right now." 

"That works. Ryin and I will be in Two, and Czerka and everyone else will be in Seven. Don't mention the fake to your people. They may be trustworthy, but lets be extra cautious."

He twitches again, but nods in agreement. 

"I will speak to my people, but will indeed be cautious, as you suggest." He turns to Moza, who nods and goes to the nearby desk to bring up communications. 

"I thank you for your assistance in these matters, Shaaraa, Ryeen," Chodo Habat tells them, "And will eagerly await your return." 

- she stops herself from bowing her head, and just nods and turns to leave.

And Atton follows her out. 

"Hungry?" He asks her, once they're out in the corridor once more. 

"Nope. Let's go to a bar. I haven't had a drink in months."

He stretches out his back, "Got me there. There's gotta be one around here somewhere, right?" 

Oh. She walks over to the dedicated map terminal in the middle of the corridor! Much better than her shonky datapad.

"Booze?"

Atton snorts, and he pokes around a bit, eventually finding the nearest cantina in Entertainment Module 081.

"Sound good to you?" He asks, poking around some more, "It's just through 82 West through there," he motions to the door they're standing next to.

"Seedy enough. Maybe they'll have one of those fruity cocktails you were dreaming about the other night."

Huff, "Well, they taste better. Never live it down in a place like this though..." 

He turns to lead the way through the doors to the west side of the module. 

They pass the Czerka Offices on their way there. 

She pays them no mind, greasy fucks.

He behaves similarly. 

They arrive to Entertainment 081 shortly, and then pass through the halls to the cantina entrance. 

This is definitely a seedier area than the parts of the station they've seen before. More lawless, as well; the security forces must not patrol here as consistently as in other areas. 

A fact which is made all the more apparent when, just outside the cantina doors, they walk into a tense situation between a sullustan and some humans decked out in combat gear. 

"Please," says the sullustan, "I don't want any trouble. It was an accident, I swear!" 

She should really just keep walking. They don't need further attention and they have a job to do and she really doesn't want to get into a fight —

Sharra sighs and pulls Atton in front of her, eyes wide and frantically looking between the sullustan and humans. Oh no! Look at how concerned and visible she is!

"That didn't look like an accident to me or my associate here," says one of the humans, "It looked like you wanted to make a fool of him."

"No, no," the sullustan holds up his hands, eyes darting around, "That wasn't the way it was. I did not mean to disturb your drinking, allow me to leave you and go on my way. I will trouble you no longer."

His eyes catch on the two bystanders, and then dart away again.

"Not even an apology?" the human tsks, "That won't do at all." 

Atton sighs, wry, before speaking up in her place.

"Alright, what's going on here," he interjects into the tension, making sure to stand so Sharra - and her large, frightened eyes - is just visible past him.

The three half-turn towards them, the sullustan relieved, while the humans are annoyed.

"This sullustan here had a few things to say about us that we didn't take to so well. We're just trying to work out our differences."

Frightened little gasp! Big eyes!

"He's sorry! I know he is, I - I - maybe, maybe he just doesn't understand? My sister says sullustese is really different." ...she moves behind Atton a little more, stunned at her own daring.

He rolls his eyes, "Then the only way he's going to learn is through a bit of good old physical reinforcement, isn't that right Mol," he tilts his head towards his friend.

Mol cracks his knuckles and advances a step toward the sullustan.

"Move along, strangers," says not-Mol, "Just move right along. Have a drink in the cantina."

"No, no, this is madness," cries the sullustan, "Please, help me! I know what these brutes want - to send me home with my limbs broken, body battered and spirit bruised! Please!" 

...Atton doesn't have to ask Sharra for what she wants here; just approaching these three was enough explanation for that. 

"Can't imagine what kinda unforgivable crime he's committed to deserve a beating like that," he comments, readying himself to move. 

"He threw a drink all over Mol, for no damned reason!" He gestures to his friend, drawing attention to the sticky, drying liquid coating the breastplate of his armour, "I can't just let that go, not without an apology for my associate." 

She's on the verge of tears!

"He'll apologise! I'm sure it was an accident, but even then he'll apologise and- no violence please! Hadn't there been enough violence and death??"

"To apologize would be dishonest," says the sullustan, apparently firm on this despite his fear, "I did not throw my drink at him; they barrelled into me at the bar and caused me to spill my drink over both of us."

Indeed, the sullustan also wears drink stains on his clothes. 

"You see," the unnamed human says, "Not only does he refuse to apologize, he's lying!" 

Atton huffs a breath of air through his nose; the sullustan isn't lying, but the human sure is. Their excitement is practically oozing out of them. It kind of reminds him of some officers he worked with, once upon a time. 

"Think I believe the guy with the drink all over his clothes," he says, unimpressed, "Seems to me that you two should let bygones be bygones and move on with your nights." 

"Or what, you're going to teach us a lesson? Go on, then. I hate your kind anyways, sticking your nose in other peoples' business."

She. Sighs, refuses to get into a fight right now. She reaches for Atton, to the warm, flowing energy within him.

"My husband was a solider, you don't want to get into a fight with him, not over a meaningless drunken squabble."

He shivers, feeling her reach through him to the... probably mercenaries, based on their arms and armour, and attempt to influence them. 

There's a long pause, and then... The man makes a face, "Fucking hells. Fine, I'm not about to get into a firefight in the halls. Let's go, Mol," he grabs his companion's elbow, pulling him away from the situation. 

As they vanish around a corner, the sullustan turns to them and presses his hands together, bowing low, "Thank you, so much! I was completely helpless... These mercenaries have been getting worse and worse. I wish something could be done about them," he sighs. 

"I don't think you were completely helpless," she says, a little exasperated. "Your honor is not worth your life."

"Am I not allowed my pride?" He asks, clearly unhappy, "Humans like them are everywhere on this station. If I bow and scrape to them all, my life will not be worth living." 

"I dunno about that," Atton steps back a bit, tucking his arm over Sharra's shoulders, "Don't you have, what, a family or something? Wouldn't they miss you?" 

"Ah, my wife has many husbands more valuable than I," he says, "What I do with my life will have no effect on my warren-clan." 

"Well, if you're so willing to throw it away, no wonder." Okay that was mean. She sighs and tucks closer to Atton. "Stay safe. Your life and honour have worth, despite what those lowlives do with theirs."

He shakes his head, "Thank you. I will try to be more careful in the future." 

He leaves, passing them to head the opposite direction from his attackers.

"Mercenaries, huh," Atton says, once they're alone again, "Wonder if that has anything to do with those Czerka thugs."

She snuggles into his chest, the distressed wife. "Didn't realise they hired out, figured they'd have in house mercs."

Sorry about the mind trick bullshit, I've never liked the practice, but — well, you know. Getting into a fight in the middle of the entertainment district...

He nods. 

"If they're policing part of the station, I doubt their normal security can keep up. You saw how big this place is." 

"Humungous." She reaches up on her toes and gives him a soft kiss. "Buy me a drink, handsome? Maybe there's a game you can join."

"That's why we're here," he agrees. He gives her another kiss, and then turns to head into the cantina with her on his arm. 

Music, is the first thing that strikes them upon entry. A live band plays onstage at the back wall, a number of dancers performing to the music in front of them. Patrons stand around watching them, while others linger around the bar just inside to the right, and others sit at tables around the room. Past the bar there is another room, a long table filling the space with pairs playing pazaak occupying opposing seats. 

The customers are a varied mix of workers, security forces, mercenaries, and more sketchy beings, of a number of varied species. All three of the dancers are twi'lek women, and some twi'lek men and a pair of duros mingle with the humans watching them. A zeltron woman leans against the bar, flanked by a pair of gamorrean guards. Most of the other patrons are human, however, while the staff seems entirely made up of droids. 

Sharra appreciates the dancers, watching the way they move their bodies, the fluidity and technique. And also just the way they look in their costumes. She wonders what sort of training they've had. Especially the one on the right... her eyes linger on her ass.

Atton coughs, elbowing her, "You probably haven't been in a lot of places like this," he comments, looking around. 

— Sharra blinks! And looks up at him all wide-eyed innocence. "They're such good dancers! I could never move my body like that."

...he looks over at the girl she'd been staring at. 

"...yeah, I guess she's pretty good," he may, also, be staring at her ass. 

Sharra laughs and presses her face against his arm. They are a pair.

"Go find a game, I'll get us drinks. Maybe one near the back?"

He hums to himself, "Yeeah, I can do that." He spots a table near the dancers where a twi'lek man has his deck spread out, presumably sorting through his side deck options, "I'll check with him," he decides. 

Nodnodkiss. And taking his credit chit from his pocket. "Don't have too much fun without me."

"How could I have fun without you?" 

She pats his ass. "Through tremendous effort."

He snorts, and takes her pat as momentum to head towards the dancers.

To the bar! Sharra is very polite and doesn't push forward and waits for a nice clear space to approach. And keeps her distance from the gamorreans, letting them serve their purpose.

...the zeltron woman those gamorreans are guarding gives her a slow up-and-down, smiling slowly as she takes her in. She doesn't approach just yet, though, letting Sharra get her drinks. 

Soon enough, the droid bartender beckons her forward and takes her drink orders, setting to making them quickly and efficiently.

Sweet fruity drink and whatever is on tap!

Sharra turns against the bar and looks over everything with wide, excited eyes. It's definitely a crowd. Been a while since she's been in a place like this.

Atton glances over at her from his table, before returning to the match he's about to start. The twi'lek man he's playing keeps glancing over at the dancer they'd been ogling earlier, so at least they're not the only ones. 

"You look a little wide-eyed to be wandering around a place like this alone," says a low, feminine voice from beside her. 

Blink! She turns to look at the zeltron and gives her a welcoming smile. Zeltrons are usually good-looking, but this one...

"I'm with my husband," she said, so fond, as she points Atton out. "He's a big pazaak player and I wanted to try out some cocktails. Do you want one too?"

"Oh, I have my drinks covered, honey, don't you worry," she brushes a strand of hair off her forehead, "Your husband, is he?" She eyes the man across the room, "He looks... biddable," she says, smirking. 

Blushing! She ducks her head and giggles, covering her face a little.

"You can't just say that to a stranger!" But her smile is wide. "I'm Sharra. What's your name?"

She laughs, "Luxa," she offers in return, "And I'll have you know that you can say just about anything to a stranger, if you have no shame," she winks. 

Her cheeks ache from smiling so much. And the blush. Poor Padawan Sharra.

"Luxa's a pretty name. Are you from Telos? It's my first time."

"Thank you," she leans over the bar next to her, "And, no. I was born on the party planet itself. I've been here for a while, now, though. I like to think of Telos as my adopted home."

"We were thinking of going to Zeltros for our honeymoon! We haven't gotten the creds for it yet, but — I went there with my, my teacher, when I was young. I was too young to really enjoy the nightlife, but she took me to so many museums and theatres... I'm glad you've found a home here too. It's so different."

She hums in agreement, "Zeltron actors are second to none. No one plays emotion like we do. Experience is important, too, though. Nothing teaches you like traveling the galaxy." 

"My papa said one of my ancestors was zeltron, but I'm not so sure." She reaches back and takes a sip of her cocktail, the picture of innocence. "It was nice to meet you, Luxa. Maybe we can share a drink another night?"

"I'd like that, Sharra. I'm here most nights, so you just come back whenever you want to see me," she lifts her own drink towards Sharra, "You go give that pretty drink to your pretty boy," she smirks. 

"That obvious?" she giggles. She picks up the other glass and smiles a goodbye.

To Atton she goes!

Atton has finished creaming his opponent in the time she was ordering their drinks. The unfortunate twi'lek seems resigned to this result, though he also looks somewhat hopeful. 

"-so you see," he says, voice quiet enough to go nearly unheard under the music, "If you can defeat him, he will put Ramana up as collateral for a second round. If you can defeat him the second time-" he looks down at his hands, "My foolishness has left her indentured to him. I don't ask that you plead my case to her- I only want her to be free from the consequences of my mistakes." 

Atton is leaning back in his chair, shuffling his cards as he listens to the twi'lek's story, "Wellll," he draws out, "If he's not much better than you are, it won't be hard to beat him," he considers. 

He turns his head to peer up at Sharra as she approaches.

"What d'you think, babe?"

Hm? She sits down in the seat next to him - and puts her legs over his. Places both drinks on the table.

"...she's paying off your gambling debt?" she guesses, and turns to look at the probable twi'lek in question.

He looks between them, and- sighs, accepting the addition, "No," he says, "I wish it was only that. In our game, I bet her. As head of our small clan, I have that right. Now she is of his clan, and he collects the credits her dancing makes."

"So you're a piece of shit, then," she says, turning back to him. "Hm." She takes a sip of her non-fruity drink. "How about you scurry off now? Go home. I'll talk to her and see if she wants our help."

"-yes," he stands, "I know. If you can save her... you do not want my thanks," he notes, "But thank you regardless."

He glances toward Ramana one more time, before he scurries off as suggested, leaving his cards on the table behind him. 

Sharra picks up his cards and pokes through them, trying to temper her emotions.

"Fancy a private dance?"

He leans over to help her go through them, making sure she sees a few particularly useful cards.

"With our, uh, mutual interest?" 

"I know you have your hands full already, but if we were to share..."

"I could learn to juggle," he muses, tossing a credchit up in the air. 

She catches the chit and climbs into his lap. "Keyword share."

"Alright, alright," he smirks, "Many hands makes the work lighter, and all that." 

She places her hand against his throat and kisses him hard. Applying a little pressure.

His breath hitches against her lips. 

— more pressure, and rolling her hips just so —

"Go pay for two sessions with the girl," she says against his lips. Still holding tight. "Private room."

"-right, yeah," he licks his lips, "Private room, got it." 

She kisses him again and pushes his hair off his face. "Good boy. Off you go now."

"Yeah..." 

...she hops off his lap, instead of waiting for his brain to regain itself, and pulls him up with her.

"-right," he clears his throat, steadying himself, "Private room. Be right back."

He shakes himself, and makes his way over to Ramana to ask about that dance.

She loves him so much.

Sharra packs up the cards, quickly finishes her drink... and looks over her shoulder back to the bar.

Luxa is watching her with laughing eyes, and she raises her glass to her again as she sees Sharra glance her way.

She raises her empty glass back! Maybe she be will come back some other time, she seems fun.

She turns back to Atton and Ramana.

They're making their way back to the table now! Apparently the transaction went quick. 

"There's a nice room in the back, there," he tells her, motioning to a discrete door next to the stage. He holds out an arm to wrap around her once he's close enough. 

Ramana looks between them, a little nervous, but managing to be mostly calm.

"Your lover has been most generous," she tells Sharra, sidling up close to her as well, "I would be happy to give a more private dance for you." 

She is enwrapped by him and looks up at Ramana. "I'd love that. Your dance is so..." she looks away then, back to Atton. "Captivating."

She smiles, "I am glad you like it. Please," she steps back, her pose inviting, "Join me." 

Atton squeezes her around the waist, and then directs them after Ramana and into the back rooms of the cantina. 

It's a fairly bare hallway back here, lined by the occasional door. Ramana leads them all the way down that hall, to the very last door before the back exit, and then opens it to allow them inside. 

This room is less bare, featuring a low, wide couch, curtained walls, and soft lighting. There is a small self-serve bar inside, as well, and a tray of fresh fruit. 

Ooooh, fruit!

"Do you mind if we scan for devices?" she asks, as she beelines for the tray.

She shakes her head, lekku twitching, "Please, whatever makes you comfortable."

She takes a seat on the edge of the couch as she watches them examine the room. 

Atton joins her at the table, taking a juicy shuura which he munches on as he checks the room for bugs and holocams. 

Mmmm. She squeezes his wrist before she moves to the other side of the room. "Is there an exit close by?"

"-just outside, miss," Ramana gestures towards it, "The door at the end of the hall."

She smiles at her, appreciative. "Thank you. I'm Sharra, this is Ren," she says, making up a new name on the spot. His reaction to the last name noted. "How long have you been dancing? You're really good. Like. Really good. I've known people thrice your age that don't have your talent."

A darker gold tint colours the skin of her cheeks, "My mother and aunts taught me dancing when I was young. I have danced all my life." 

"It shows," Atton comments from behind a curtain.

Sharra nods! And sits down next to her, leaving some room between them.

"I used to dance too. It's all I ever wanted to do when I was a girl. I'd wake up before the dawn to twirl and jump and run along the beach, listening to the music in my head that I thought only I could hear."

She smiles, "You move with grace," she notes, "Did you achieve your dream?" 

She weighs her head side to side. "In a way. It turned into something else. When I left my home for the academy, my teachers encouraged me to channel it into my training instead. I could still hear the music, but now I was dancing for a purpose. It wasn't quite the same, you know?"

She nods, "I know. It was not quite the same story, for me, but..." 

She looks away, watching Atton do another circle around the room, and then come to stand beside Sharra, setting the core of his fruit on a tray provided. 

"But," she shakes herself, one lekku curling around her neck to rest on the opposite shoulder, "I am here to show you my dance," she says, putting on a less sad face, "Would you like me to begin?" 

"We'd love to, but we're actually here to ask you a favour. For one in return, obviously." She reaches up to take Atton's hand - which is a little sticky - and doesn't leave her hanging. "We have somewhere to be soon. It would be really helpful to us if we could sneak out from here and then come back after we're done. In return we're confident that Ren can win your freedom, if that's what you want. No strings attached."

She covers her mouth!

"...you would- really? You would do this for me? I- yes, of course, none will know you have left!"

"Won't be any trouble, really," 'Ren' shrugs. 

"Thank you! Ren is the best pazaak player I know, though we do have some credits that we can use as a back up. We won't need it, but I know I would feel nervous about putting my freedom in the hands of a gambler without some reassurances."

Well, not her gambler, but the point still stands.

She nods! 

"Any hope is better than..." She looks toward the taproom, "Doton Het is not as kind as my... as Harra is, a silly man though he might be..."

"He is the reason we're here. Or the reason we know about your situation. He asked us to help. I sent him packing, just to be clear, and we're not doing this for him. You deserve to be free, just like everyone else. If I could just pay off your debt, I would, but we don't really have that sort of money. Only as a last resort. This is the best we can do."

"Harra...?"

She nods, "Of course, I wouldn't ask that of anyone. He would demand many credits for me. He... Likes my dancing." 

"Right. He likes pazaak more, though." 

"I guess he must... His line of work involves much risk, I think. He must enjoy it." 

"I know the type," she says. She stands then and takes firmer hold of his hand. "We should be back before our time runs out. Maybe order some drinks and extras? Make it seem like we're busy enjoying ourselves. Indulge yourself, it's your last day here, might as well make the most of it."

She nods, clasping her hands in her lap, "I will," she agrees, "And I will wait for your return! Don't worry if you're later than expected; it's not uncommon for patrons to extend their time in the backrooms once they're here."

Atton grabs another shuura before he's out of range of the fruit! 

"Maybe you and Sharra could do some dancing together after I beat Het; enjoy the room a little longer."

She covers her smile with a hand, "Maybe," she agrees.

She squeezes his side. "Completely altruistic suggestion, I'm sure." She rolls her eyes. "Come on, we don't want to be late."

"Right, right," and he follows her out of the room.

The door at the end of the hall leads out into a narrow hall off the main corridor of the module. From there it's not hard to find a transport console and call a car to take them to the docks. 

Sharra steals a few bites of the juicy fruit on their way and also pulls out her new blaster so he can remind her of its different functions.

He walks her through them again, checks that she's holding it correctly, and then kisses her and declares her good enough to shoot some Czerka idiots, assuming they run into any of them. 

"Let's hope not," she says, between kisses. He tastes so sweet... "Just got this new coat and I don't want it to get stained."

"It'd be a real shame," he agrees, "I should keep this shuura away from it, really, the juice could wreck the leather." 

"If you take your hands off me I will bite you."

He snorts, "Alright, alright, no need to get violent..."

She'll show him violence! Which takes up the rest of the trip, probably.

They'll have to stumble out of the car on arrival, before it moves on to some other stop. 

They can do that! Just.

Sharra straightens both their clothes and then — squints her way towards the right hanger.

"I have a good feeling about this," she says, confidently.

He nudges her, "I have mixed feelings about this," is his response. 

"You're just horny," she says, smugly. "Me too, but still. Optimism."

"Sure, let's go with that."

Off they go to hangar two! Optimistically!

Unfortunately for them, their optimism is not rewarded. A trio of mercenaries are waiting in the hangar when they arrive, in a standoff with the crew of the Republic transport which has dropped off the droid. 

The droid is also there, a standard protocol model in appearance, but presumably more in truth.

"And I'm telling you," says the mercenary officer, "We're here to take the delivery to its rightful owner. I have the forms right here, see?" He's showing off a datapad. 

"We were told to expect two humans, a male and a female, at pick up," the twi'lek apparently in charge of the crew says, his arms crossed and expression unimpressed, "I don't see any human females among you, nevermind the other identifiers we were given."

...Atton sets his hands on his holsters, but doesn't draw just yet.

Sigh.

Sharra makes her way over to them casually. "Hey! Sorry we're late. We got in someone else's cab and it took us all the way to the other side of the station and then when we were coming back we got stuck in a weird traffic jam." She stops before them and blinks at the trio of mercs. "This is the right hanger, isn't it?" She tilts her head to the droid. "That is our new droid, I recognise it. Hey there."

"Greetings, mistress," the droid responds obligingly.

"Yeah," the crewman nods, uncurling his lekku and his arms, "You two look about right. Names?" 

"Ryin and Sharra," Atton answers, gesturing from himself to her.

He nods again, "Great. If one of you'll just sign right here..." He steps towards them, offering his own datapad.

"Now hold on a second," the mercenary says, "The documents are in our name, you can't just go around giving away our droid to some random spacers. This is robbery!" He draws his weapon. 

Atton's is already drawn and fired by the time they get their weapon out, and a smoking hole has been blown right through the merc's datapad.

"Oops," he shrugs. 

"Clumsy," she adds and does not move for her own blaster. "Now, likely by now you know who I am. What I am. Am I right?"

The first merc is occupied shaking out his hand, his datapad dropped on the ground, but the two behind him share a nervous look, their blasters wavering. 

"Aw, they're scared of you babe," he smirks at them, "Not that I blame them."

"Understandable, with everything the Jedi are capable of," she says, moving around to face them more directly. "But, I didn't come here to kill you, I came here to right a wrong."

She offers her hand to the twi'lek, so he can pass over the datapad.

He passes it over!

"Huh, didn't know you were a Jedi," he says, leaning back and crossing his arms. He eyes the mercs, "You three gonna keep giving us a hard time, now?"

The lead Merc curses, properly drawing his weapon now, "Fuck you, you're not taking that droid anywhere."

She signs it! And hands it back.

"So this droid is really worth more than your lives? And the lives of all the other people on the station."

He scoffs, "Whatever. You're a kid, probably barely trained. I've worked with Jedi before, you know. Hand it over and we'll let you go on your way." 

Behind him, his backup is sharing increasingly dubious looks. 

"I've worked with Jedi too, you know," Atton comments, eyeing him, "Probably the same type you did, if you catch my drift." 

She readjusts her estimation of this man.

"So you know exactly why this droid is important." She looks him up and down, unimpressed. "Getting this droid into the hands of people that are working hard to restore the planet from the horrors of which the Sith, and the people that worked with them, wrought. And yet, you're standing between us and them."

"LT," one of the men behind him starts.

"Shut it," he says, "I don't really give a shit what the thing's for. We're taking it. This is your last warning, and you should be grateful I'm giving you that after that destruction of property."

She looks to the men behind him.

"We'll double whatever he's paying you for this job to just walk away. Let's do some good and help restore the planet. Give the people on this station some hope."

-the lieutenant half-turns towards his men- and meets the butt of a rifle. 

He collapses, the man who took the initiative taking a partial step forward with a grimace, "Uh, yeah, I'm not here to fight a hells damned Jedi. I mean- look, you take the jobs you can find, right?"

His fellow nods rapidly, "You got any room for a couple extra mercs on your ship?" He asks the twi'lek captain, "It's just, Czerka will kill our contracts if we don't come back with the droid," he shares a look with his friend.

"Sure, we can cart you around for a few weeks. Give you a trial run," the twi'lek says, amused, "Not about to punish a good deed." 

"Excellent! I'll get the ithorians to send through the money to the ship, a deals a deal." She nudges the fallen merc with her foot. "And I'll message the chief about this piece of shit, get him out of your hair."

"-think he's been dealing weapons on the side, too," one of the guys adds, "Should be evidence on his comm. That'll keep him in lockup longer than a little droid thievery. Czerka's gonna cut him loose right away, though, just so you know."

"Happens all the time," the other one agrees. 

"Don't it just," Atton holsters his blasters, "You two have a good trip, now. We'll handle it." 

As they join the crew, the droid they'd come to pick up shuffles over to join them.

"What a dramatic greeting," it states, "Hello, I am C7-L5. I understand you two are to be my escort?" 

Sharra finishes up sending the message to the chief.

"That's us! I'm glad to meet you, C7. We've got a cab just outside and we'll be taking you right to the Ithorian's compound." She steps to it's other side, so it's comfortably between her and Atton. "Did you have a good trip? The crew seemed nice."

"They were pleasant traveling companions," it agrees, "Though their cargo droid was unpleasantly coarse. I suppose it's to be expected of such..." 

It follows them out through the airlock, and up the steps to the waiting zone. 

Atton helps it into the car when they reach it, since the droid compartment isn't really meant for a protocol droid. 

Sharra kisses the back of his neck on her way into the car.

"Cargo droids are unique, it's true," she indulges it. She inputs a unique route into the terminal. "You probably won't find any of them with the Ithorians."

"Oh, I should think not! The project only has mechanical cargo lifts, no droid intelligence to speak of, and thank goodness for that."

Atton gets in next to her and starts the speeder car, "Small ship like that needs the hands for other things," he comments neutrally. 

She nods and leans her head on his shoulder. "Maybe we could find a cargo droid friend for when we start our shipping and masseuse business. I think T7 and Isk would appreciate it."

He huffs, "You're just trying to surround me with droids. One of these days I'm gonna wake up and find out you've turned me into a cyborg overnight." 

"But bionic arm strength..."

He laughs! 

"You've got me there." 

She squeezes his leg and then checks their perimeter. Anyone following them?

Doesn't look like it! Apparently they're getting away clean. 

Soon enough they're pulling up to the 82 West stop, and C7 requests Atton's assistance getting out of the car again. 

He does that! And then they can go drop the droid off?

Yup! Sharra gets out first and keeps an eye on their surroundings. Then when everyone is clear from the car, she brackets the droid again and to the Ithorians they go.

Chodo Habat is waiting for them in his office inside the compound, and is visibly relieved when they arrive - assuming you can read Ithorian expressions, anyway.

"Ah," he says, approaching them at a measured pace, "I am gladdened by your safe return. My people sent word of what happened at the docks." 

The droid tilts his head at him, "I am yours to command, Master," it says. 

"Good, good," Chodo gestures ponderously to a nearby door, "Our computer system has been prepared for your arrival. You may begin transferring your data into it immediately." 

"I shall do so now, Master Habat," says C7. It turns to Sharra and Atton and nods, "Farewell," it says, before shuffling towards the door. 

With the droid now turning to its work in another room, Chodo turns to them once more.

"I am grateful for your help in this matter," he says, "Please," he adds, "Accept this as a gift from my people." 

He motions to Moza, who approaches them to offer a pair of soft flexible gloves in a dull grey colour, "It is our hope that these gloves will protect your hands should you need to defend our efforts further," he says, "While we wish violence was not necessary to save the planet we work to heal, it would be wrong of us not to arm the hands which may be forced to commit violence in our name." 

He bows lightly to her.

She makes a little face, but puts it away quickly.

"I try to not be known for violence, but thank you." She takes the gloves and tucks them into her coat for later inspection. "Have you had any progress with securing a shuttle for us down to the surface?"

"I'm afraid securing a transport will take more time, and more work. Though the droid intelligence you have escorted to us may begin to turn the tide, a sooner resolution will be needed if you wish to reach the planet in any timely manner."

"I understand and appreciate it." She pauses, tells them about the mercs and then considers them. "What's the next step? Right now we have somewhere to be, to keep our cover somewhat lowkey, but we can be available to you tomorrow."

"Hmmm," he clasps his hands in front of him, "Well, I have an avenue you might be able to investigate. The man you confronted at the dock, he was an agent of the Exchange, in addition to his work for Czerka. I have long suspected that the corporation have been hiring Exchange resources to aid in their sabotage, and a brief examination of his comm, as well as the statements of his former coworkers, has confirmed my fears." 

"So you want us to look into the Exchange? Maybe convince them to shove off?"

He sighs, "I have tried to meet with the Exchange leader here. He is a quarren, by the name of Loppak Slusk. He has refused my every invitation; as I understand it, he allows no one outside his top lieutenants into his suites." 

He blows out a greater sigh.

"I fear the Exchange does not take us seriously. You, however? Though you may no longer claim the title of Jedi, the Exchange will know you as such. Perhaps you may convince them to consider the merits of a restored Telos." 

"...dangerous, considering it's the Exchange that has a bounty out on Jedi."

He pauses, "Truly? Well, I suppose it is not so strange, as few Jedi as there are in the public eye in these times. There are always those who lust for rarity." 

He considers this.

"...I will think on this. Perhaps a different avenue will reveal itself to me, as this one proves itself unlikely."

He nods lowly to her, "Should you return tomorrow, we may discuss further."

Sharra nods and takes a step back. "We'll see you then. Be sure to up your security status. With the droid here, you never know what Czerka will do next."

He nods as well, "This is an effort we have already begun. Rest assured, we will only continue to do so. I thank you for your aid," he adds, "And wish you a restful night." 

"You too, good luck."

And with that?

With that, they can leave the compound and make their way back towards the cantina!

"...so, was it just me, or was that droid racist?" Atton asks as they make their way through the corridors. 

Sharra snorts! "Oh for sure. A lot of high INT droids have this thing against worker droids. I once tried to poke one's processors to see what was up, but ended up just making it worse. I felt so bad."

He pats her on the back, "Maybe it just knew you knew, now, so it stopped holding back." 

She takes his hand. "Rhae probably would have been able to fix it," she sighs. Then - "Oh, our reward," she pulls them out of her pocket and turns them over.

He pulls her closer by the hand, peering over her shoulder at them.

"Oh, hey. Infiltrator gloves," he recognizes, "Not really combat-focused, but they'll hook up to your blaster, give you better aim." 

Huh. She tries them on? "Are they too low-level for you? You're the infiltrator of the two of us."

"I mean, I could probably use them, but I'd need to retrain a bit. You might as well keep them - they'll help if you need to hack through some security, too. Just need to hook them to your datapad."

"But then why would I need to keep you around? If I can shoot and hack everything myself..."

"My charming personality?" 

"Hmmm. You are very charming..."

"How about my charming "personality"?"

Sharra laughs! And looks up at him. "You do have a really nice cock, it's true. I don't know if I'd call it charming."

"Aw, that hurts. Right here," he grips his chest, over his heart. 

"Pretty? Beautiful. Lickable," she brainstorms.

He huffs, "How about 'impressive', or 'mouth-watering'... I'll even take 'gorgeous', if you have to." 

She stops them and wraps around his waist. "Oh baby, it's so impressive. Everytime I see it I'm stunned and have to take a moment to wonder about how one man can have such an impressive and stunning cock. No other cock will ever compare."

He flushes, coughs, "Yeah, well. Uh. As you should!" He wraps his arms around her in return. 

She pulls him down for a kiss. Many kisses. He's so cute. She doesn't say that aloud.

"Handsome. Gorgeous." More kisses. "Mouth-watering.'" Kisssss. "If I never see another person naked for the rest of my life I will die happy and satisfied."

"Mmm..."

He snorts, pulling away from her kisses, "Well, if Ramana decides she likes the idea of dancing with you, maybe you'll die ecstatic."

"She's hot. I'm not really interested in sleeping with her though. Would also feel kind of scummy, with the servitude of it all."

"...I guess, yeah," he sighs, "Guess I'll just have to be happy with my one handful." 

"My boobs are more than two handfuls, if that makes you feel better."

"Your boobs always make me feel better," he nods, crushing her against his chest (the better to feel them with!)

Skish!

"I never considered whether I could keep myself to one person before. Though I also haven't actually been with that many people. The only person I really got close to... she was different. My best friend." Cuddle nuzzle.

"Love was dangerous. I got so lost in my other emotions, I was always so afraid to love anyone, never mind more than one. But." She happily presses herself against him. "M'not afraid of this."

"Mm," he leans his cheek against her head. 

"...Caring about people's pretty dangerous for Jedi," he agrees. "I dunno if it's something you can really avoid, though. Not if you're human, anyway."

"We can help each other. With our bond." She rubs her face on him. "If we use it to do more things than just making each other horny and feedback looping ourselves into unlimited sex."

"Hey, that's helping people," he smirks, "We're people." 

"People that are having sex like ten times a day. Not that I'm complaining. The sex is mind-blowing."

"Keeps us from making too much mischief."

"Isk might disagree!"

"Point," he snorts. 

"But, what I mean to say is... you're everything I've ever wanted. I don't want anyone else. Even if she does have a great ass and could hypnotise me with her dancing."

He digs his chin into her head, a little. 

"...we should get on that," he deflects, "What's his name, Het, might not be there all day." 

More snuggles. One day he will have to accept that he's lovable.

"Let's go save the damsel," she agrees. "And wring a dirtbag out of all his beloved creds."

"My favourite hobby," he agrees. He pulls away, leaving one arm around her waist, and they can continue towards the back door of the cantina. 

At least it's not too far. Sharra goes directly to the fruit bowl when they arrive. She now has a taste for shuura.

"Any trouble?" she asks Ramana, after the first bite.