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The Life that's Left


EverSteam

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Oh, HK. You delightful little psychopath, you.

:D

 

 

 

Two days later...

 

 

 

'Gault, what's wrong?'

 

'How do you know something's wrong?'

 

'Because your heart rate slows but your breathing becomes heavy under the concentration of the former which is always a sign your trying to stay calm. Also, I overheard your mutterings of 'this bad, this is really, really bad' down below.'

 

I keep flicking through the datapad as I answer him over my shoulder. I've already memorised my next targets information. Only my plan is a little weak. It relies on him wanting information from me as much as I want it from him.

 

'Do you often take to listening to what I do, my dear?' he asks with perverted curiosity. I'm guessing by the direction of his voice, movements and other sounds, he's leaning against a console behind me and to my right.

 

'Yes.' My short answer disturbs him.

 

'Unnerving but alright.' Gault sighs, looks me over and then falls back into a waiting chair only to lean forward on the edge of the seat a moment later. 'I've heard some news from Nar Shaddaa.'

 

'I don't see how that's unusual so I'm going to guess it's what you heard not that you did hear something.' I toss the datapad over my shoulder where it loudly clatters on the ground. Gault doesn't look at it fall and neither do I. I turn my attention to entirely to Gault.

 

'As sharp as ever, my dear,' Gault replies with thick sarcasm. 'It might concern you more than as a taxi driver.' He pauses. I scowl. I hate pauses. 'There's a new drug going around Nar Shaddaa.'

 

'When isn't there?' I reply, leaning back in my chair and raising my feet onto the consol. Feel a slight twang that no rebuke comes from it. Anyone that would have is dead.

 

'Every second week,' he replies with firm honesty. I raise eye brow at this bit of information. 'But it's not the recreational sort. It's called Cyclone. It makes you faster with quicker reflex's. Just like a killing machine,' he pointedly finishes as if I had missed his meaning.

 

'Let me guess, Gault, you think it's a poor imitation of my serum?' I ask dismissive and derisively.

 

'Honestly, my dear, I don't know what it is. I only know that people in my sector are being used as lab rats.' Interesting that Gault cares for his people. If I was an idiot, I would think it was more than a power means.

 

'If it's improving them, then what's the problem? Shouldn't it please you to have better pawns?'

 

'The problem is it's lethal.'

 

The image of the failed experiments flashes before me. Words of the datapads. My serums official name was Serum III. If there was an unofficial one, I wouldn't know. They didn't inform me of anything that helped me. And in the datapads, they just stopped counting at XXV. Gault might be right or might be wrong. I'm leaning towards wrong. But either way, we are going to Nar Shaddaa.

 

'Interesting you should mention a holiday to Nar Shaddaa. I wanted to visit a furniture shop there: "Balkar's Interior Refurbishments" it's called. Heard of it?'

 

'Yes. My network tells me it might be a front for the SIS as well as selling some high quality furniture.' Gault's eyes narrow on me when I smile with satisfaction. 'But you already know that.'

 

'I do,' I proudly affirm. There was no mention of Resmond's sister on the datapad as to her whereabouts or contact information, but there were a few transmissions between him and an SIS agent in relation to Havoc Squad. I've been tracking down different parts of the information and it's led me to there. This lead is the best I have at the moment.

 

'Well, whatever you're planning, keep it off my streets,' Gault warns, finally leaning back into his chair.

 

'When have I ever bloodied anything of yours?' I ask with sweet, indignant innocence.

 

'Two days ago you cleaned your helmet with my shirt!' Gault exclaims resentfully.

 

I laugh and set course for Nar Shaddaa. I press the intercom and inform HK that we will be landing on Nar Shaddaa by morning. I also mention that there will be many undesirables. Interesting how a droid works better when their insatiable need for killing is kept a little sedated primarily through the promise of more killing to come.

 

Gault stays with me and we talk of the days to come with the datapad behind me, Gault next to me, a mental droid at my back and the hyperlanes in front of me. For the first time in months, I feel strangely alive.

 

I absently finger the tooth at my neck, causing new, small cuts on my fingertips. The strange feeling doesn't leave me when we land. I'm walking down a prepared path. This time, I feel like death isn't at the end. It feels like something good is coming our way. And I don't trust it.

 

 

 

----

 

 

 

This and what is to come really wasn't planned (unlike everything else that I always have a plan for :rolleyes: ). But it's amazingly filling in gaps.

But I shall say no more. :D

 

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Oh dear, I worry for Balkar :eek:

Would I really ever kill someone as loveable and hot as Jonas Balkar? ;)

(Don't take that either way. That's the one part of this Nar Shaddaa business I haven't written yet thus the delays.)

Oooh Trooper and Agent stuff thrown in there. Om nom nom.

Yeah, Agent was unplanned. I was just looking at them the other day and remembered some things and thought it would be interesting. I hope it's alright :o

I'll put spoiler warnings later on for those parts. :D

 

 

 

Two days later...

 

 

'So what's the plan?' Gault asks at the end of his briefing.

 

'The usual,' I flippantly reply as I glance over my far too limited range of weapons. I touch the cross bow. Yes. You might be some fun. 'Done once for each target so... five times if no other dealers are found.'

 

'Do I want to know what 'the usual' is, my dear?' Gault asks wearily as I strap the crossbow onto my back and throwing knives on my thighs and belt.

 

'HK, tell him 'the usual',' I order with a sadistic smile, continuing my selection.

 

'Explanation: 'the usual' refers to master's tactics in 98% of missions: this is the hunt, the killing and then the destruction.' His voice hits strange notes in his manic excitement at the end. I never thought I'd meet something so much more willing to kill and destroy than I am.

 

'And that's basically it,' I conclude. 'We're about to end the hunting phase for the first target and enter the killing phase and then the destruction phase will involve either levelling the apartment or smashing and then burning the Cyclone.'

 

'And you say Manaan was an accident,' Gault cynically sneers.

 

'A tip for living longer, Gault,' I pull the crossbow out, ready to fire and the bolt an inch from his forehead, 'don't test me.'

 

HK watches the interaction silently. A mild surprise. I turn away from Gault and place the cross bow back. I look over HK for the last time and then nod in satisfaction.

 

'Well, as completely full proof and thought through as that plan is,' Gault comments with sarcastic deference, 'I think we should do it my way.'

 

'Protest: master, to do anything the organic's way is to lower efficiency and the number of undesirables exterminated.'

 

I smile slyly at them both. 'I see no problem there, HK, so silence.' I turn to Gault.' What's the plan, organic?' I ask mockingly of Gault.

 

Gault looks at me suspiciously and I can sense some form of irritation from the droid. This is almost better than Gault's and Torian's antipathy to each other. Only this comes at no personal cost when I manipulate it for my amusement.

 

'We go in as customers, get them to show us where it is and buy it all from them,' Gault briefly explains.

 

'Hmm, I like the direction at the start but let's change the end: go in as customers, get them to show us where it is and then kill them and destroy the Cyclone.' I feel like I'm entering negotiations or a barter with a shop keeper. I find my plan is a compromise. The end makes the initial part pointless but buying isn't really my style.

 

'If destroying the Cyclone means destroying a building then no, my dear, we won't do it like that.' Gault makes it sound like what he wants has a chance of happening; like if he wanted me to do something, then I would do it and I was powerless to stop it. Or that he was strong enough to assure it happens if I rebel. It twists my supple lips into a callous and derisive smile. I will humour him for now.

 

I would never destroy the building. I would have a slim chance of escape. And I will not let Manaan happen again.

 

'What do you think, HK? Is that really acceptable?'

 

'Negative, master.'

 

'Your way it is then, Gault!' I smile brightly and bound to the exit with a strange joy, excitement and anticipation. Like this is going to be a good week. And I don't understand. But I know I will. No matter what I do, it will happen. So for now, I will run at the fate head on.

 

There's nothing more you can do to me, Fate. There isn't a trump card you can play. I will keep running. I will keep running until I reach him. So hit me with your best. I dare you.

Edited by EverSteam
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Who thought to give a killing machine a personality anyway?

 

It's all Revan's fault xD.

 

An organic, a cyborg and a droid that have... strong feelings towards each other. This is getting better all the time. Meet the three known forms of life, coexisting... temporarily.

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It's all Revan's fault xD.

 

An organic, a cyborg and a droid that have... strong feelings towards each other. This is getting better all the time. Meet the three known forms of life, coexisting... temporarily.

F-ing Revan lol ;)

Yes, it's only a matter of time before that falls apart. ;)

I've met some very fatalistic people along the way. Strangely enough they tend to live really long lives, lol.

She is fatalistic, isn't she? I never thought about it. I gave up trying to have words to describe her :p

Oof. Just.. right there, in the feels. :o

:D

 

Spoiler warning for I.A Chapter 1 Nar Shaddaa story line all through really. There aren't spoiler warnings around it.

*breathes deep* Ok, here I go. *readies gun and puts it against head*

 

 

----

 

 

A week later...

 

 

 

I laugh at Liistot's jokes louder than I need to. Gault watches with amused derision from a dark corner, sipping on his wine near the door and watching. He's remained in the shadows all the time here and all the way to here. This isn't his territory. He doesn't want to pay the price.

 

I lean in to Ekayn and ask him if he has anything special, anything to make a poor defenceless woman stronger. He smiles and nods.

 

But before Ekayn can speak, he walks in. With a rattataki female of all things.

 

'You're alive? And here? Why the **** are you here?' I silently shout in my mind. I can't form any more distinct thoughts.

 

I don't let my shock show even though no one is watching me anymore. I keep it hidden as well as the strange warmth at seeing him so much... alive. His grey skin is just as pale as when I met him, a trait from his human father I suppose. He has grown his hair as well to cover the right side of his face and the burn scars that seep from the dark, far side of his face. The right eye is black but can only be a little seen from under the side long, navy fringe. His black shirt's high collar tries to hide the long masses of scars that circle it. It all falls just a little short of succeeding.

 

But he's just as handsome as before. He was only sixteen then but already a man. I just don't think I ever really noticed before.

 

So this is your trump card. You're best. Well... f*ck you.

 

I don't know how I can run through this. My future just became a blank slate.

 

His eyes linger neutrally on mine for only a moment before walking closer to the Liistot siblings. Smart. His eyes glance to the guards around the room but they miss the Devaronian. I shoot the guards dead in a moment. I was going for a more diplomatic approach for Gault but I think if I wait any longer, this reunion will become a lot messier. The Chiss hardly glances at their dead carcasses but the female rattataki looks at me with hostility, suspicion and respect.

 

The Liistot's look at the dead guards with confusion. I smile and walk behind the sister. I cut her throat.

I hold my dripping blade out to the brother. 'Now, Liistot, please give me all the Cyclone you have.' I force him to his knees.

 

'Stop.'

 

The order was composed and cold. Seems it's the thing he asks most frequently from me. Only unlike then, I won't stop. I'm harder since then.

 

I glance at the Chiss and raise an eyebrow. 'Going to try and stop me, ch'itkust ebeucot?'

 

'Are you going to take that from her, agent?' the Ratatakki asks with amusement, feeling a fight brewing. Is there a fight brewing? What the **** is he thinking? I don't have enough room for many thoughts in this sudden, confusing meeting. I doubt he's the same.

 

'Agent?' I the title with mockery and irony. 'Oh, I see. The Imperials have taken an interest as well. But I'm guessing for very different reasons.'

 

He looks the part of an Agent. As I glance him over, I see the walk, stance and proud and determined eyes of an Agent. His hair seems to fall away from Imperial regulations or standards. But I like it more like this than the short, almost black mess of hair he had when I first met him. Between following his father or mother, I'm not sure which I preferred. Neither is what I wanted him for. He's no better than what I was now. But he's alive. Isn't that what matters?

 

'Lower your weapon, Primacy,' he orders in the same low and clam voice.

 

'Oh, you remember my name. How sweet,' I roll my eye as I sarcastically speak. 'What else do you remember?' I goad on.

 

'Everything.' The same low voice. It isn't soothing. I want to break his composure. I want to tell him how happy I am he's alive. But I won't. I won't let him know.

 

'Then you should know that like then, you can't win this, rect'tin'ecot.'

 

'I've changed.' Same voice only now it has some bitter pride. We don't always change because we want to.

 

'Good for you,' I harshly retort with vehemence.

 

'I see you haven't.' I almost feel like there's regret or disappointment in that unyielding exterior. He met a stupid girl that wasn't yet broken. He saw a light when there was none. A girl who had foolish dreams. She died when he left. Her life was too short to comment on or think of.

 

'Old habits die hard. Especially when its programming.'

 

'Was that night also programming?' he provokes. I sense a storm of emotions under the pale blue-grey, stony features. What a risk for him was a downright death sentence for me.

 

'No, I believe it's what common people call 'stupidity'. Feel like being stupid again, ch'eo ch'itiseb ebeucot?' A far too genuine and happy smile pulls my lips. His stoic exterior almost crumbles. But the Rattataki cuts in. And our moment passes.

 

'This is all very touching but there are cantinas I want to go to, agent, so quickly finish this little reunion.' I glance the Rattataki over again.

 

Then my eyes turn to him and I sneer at him mockingly. Of course he's moved on. Moved on from our nothing. Haven't you as well? We can't go back to then. I doubt we can even be friends. But if it comes to a fight, I don't know if I could kill him.

 

'Got yourself a new girl, sculag? She looks like a fighter and more than a little jealous. Your taste hasn't changed then,' I mock. I hate the small pang I feel.

 

'It has.' A little bit of defence in his returned tranquillity. His red eye doesn't shift from mine. It looks brighter than I remember. But I guess I was the one dimmed them then. Lessening the oxygen in the room is standard procedure for any species that needs it.

 

'Then why are you staring at me like that?' My sneer changes to a leer.

 

'She's got a point, agent. You're even blushing. You don't blush for Watcher Two, me, or any other women in cantinas.' The Rattataki seems to enjoy mocking him. A part of me feels defensive of him. I guess it's the small part of me that's still an idiot.

 

'Silence,' he orders without raising his voice. If I can't hit the spot, it seems the Rattakki can. Her eyes narrow at him but she doesn't speak again.

 

'Watcher Two? Should I be jealous of her or concerned that you've joined a voyeur gang?' I mock.

 

'You were many things, Primacy, but funny was never one of them.' I can imagine list of the 'many things' I was. I wonder if he's the only person in the world that would put 'merciful' on it.

 

'Oh, I don't know, agent. I thought it was a little funny.' I'm caught between hating the Rattataki and liking her. If I had ever imagined us meeting again, she and my hostage would definitely be absent. It seems Gault has already made himself absent.

 

The Chiss glares at his companion before turning his bright red eye back to me. 'We came for the Cyclone. I don't want to have to kill you to get it.'

 

'You don't want to because you can't,' I simply reply. I extend my blades anyway. I would be a fool to not be ready.

 

'You're outnumbered, Leeriah,' he calmly informs. The names stirs memories that aren't of him. 'No one calls me that anymore.' I never thought keeping Damin from my biography to Torian would hurt him. I didn't think I would ever see Damin again and I assumed he was dead: the Organisation doesn't let it prisoners go lightly. I didn't mean to keep the young man I stupidly saved a secret. But I suppose it doesn't matter. Torian is dead.

 

'Leeriah, now, is it? Are we that familiar again already?' He opens his mouth to reply but closes it when a gun is pressed to his head. The Rattataki is receiving similar treatment from HK.

 

'Finally, Gault,' I impatiently greet him with. 'What took you so long? I was starting to think you were just going to watch all night,' I scold.

 

'I had to get the droid, babe. And if I did leave, it would only be because you could handle it,' he defends with devilish grin. What a load of bantha crap. He's here because this can be easily handled.

 

'Are you saying I can't handle a blue stick and his body guard?' I ask with more indignation than I feel as I ignore both of our two new hostages.

 

'Hey! It's my turn to be indignant. Your name is Leeriah?' Gault asks incredulously. 'Why does he know your name and all I get is nothing? I mean, we were never even introduced and now it's two and a half years later!'

 

'Well, somewhere between me pulling a gun and you running away repeatedly, there wasn't much time for introductions.'

 

'Is this your new partner?' The Chiss breaks in with something close to a sneer. 'If I have a thing for fighters, you have a thing for aliens.' I hold back an indulgent smile. Nice come back, ch'eo ch'itkust ebeucot .

'My husband is human, actually,' I inform him.

 

'So the rumours you married a Mandalorian are true? Is it also true you ki-'

 

I clear the distance between us and slap him hard across the face.

 

'I don't want to kill you but I will,' I say with deep warning.

 

He spits out blood. 'I touched a sore spot, then, Leeriah?'

 

Seems I scratched away the stoic agent and revealed a bitter, cynical man that doesn't mind hurting the world with his smooth tongue and doing what needs to be done. It seems he's finally biting me back. But I know that isn't him. I want to believe that isn't him. I didn't save you for this.

 

'Are you keeping tabs on me, Damin?' I return evasively. 'You always were too sweet.'

 

'You never told me your name was Damin, agent,' the affronted Rattataki cuts in.

 

'HK, silence the Rattataki.' The droid swiftly knocks her out and lets her fall to the ground. I think about killing her. But for old time's sake, I won't. 'Restrain Ekayn.' I turn back to Damin as HK follows my orders.

 

'Why does the Empire want the Cyclone?' I demand. We've avoided business for too long. We got carried away in tense feelings and things from long past that were never really settled.

 

Damin remains silent. I move closer to him and stand on my tip toes so I can whisper in his left ear. 'I liked you, Damin. So don't make me hurt you again.' I kiss his cheek as I move away. I've never kissed him before. I don't know what made me do it now. The tactic would be light years from unknown to an agent.

 

'So talk,' I order.

 

'The rebels are in alliance with the Republic and we have information that they are to receive and use a shipment of this drug called Cyclone that has been circulating the underground. I am to take a sample back to our contact who will analyse it. From there, we will hopefully be able to find the perpetrators and put them out of business.'

 

The brief isn't given with the desperate haste a man who wants to save their life with hurried words and pleading. It's calm and cold.

 

'Interesting,' I absently comment when his succinct report is done. I think. No one talks.

 

'I want you to take one vile to your contact,' I order as I come to a decision. 'The rest is to be destroyed. This is the third seller I've hit this week. There are another two that I'm yet to visit within a long speeder ride. I want your contact to analyse it and by the time he's done, the other two dealers will be gone. Then I want the results. You are not to let the Empire receive it. Also, since it correlates with your plans, find and kill those responsible for it.' I pause. 'Am I clear, Damin?'

 

'Transparently,' he calmly replies with a heavy Imperial accent.

 

'Good.' I turn around to face Ekayn.

 

'But I won't do it.'

 

I turn back around but I look to Gault. He won't hit Damin like how I want him to. So I walk up to Damin and return to previous tactics. I cup his burnt cheek in my hand and stare into his eyes.

 

'You remember the favour I did you,' I hiss. 'Now return it.'

 

'No.'

 

I slap him again, harder, my metal knuckles breaking his skin further. I punch his gut. He refuses to double over. He has gotten stronger.

 

'I paid a price because of that. Do you know what they do to you?' I angrily shout.

 

'You showed me,' he spits with pride and blood.

 

'I was an amateur then. They were better. It was another year until that changed,' I acrimoniously reply with clenched fists and a tight, straight back. 'My price helped things along.'

 

'Glad to hear you made the top,' he cynically congratulates. 'And that I was of such an assistance to you in the end.'

 

I violently knee his stomach.

 

'Will you do it?'

 

'No.'

 

'Then you leave me no choice.' I squeeze his neck till his body falls limp. I turn my attention to the dealer.

 

'Now where is the Cyclone?'

 

 

 

 

-----

 

 

 

Chiss words:

sculag - weak minded.

ch'itkust ebeucot - weak idiot

mon - young

ch'eo - my

rect'tin'ecot - fool

ch'itiseb - sweet

A/N:

Damin is his core name, naturally (though my actual I.A. was, of course, female). I made them male because though Leer generally hates men, I just can't see her ever liking or getting a long with a woman unless they were very like her, let alone ever saving a woman past handing out a few blasters and credits every now and again. Mako is evidence number one. ;)

No other A/N except don't hate me and please comment. :o

 

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3 words.

 

om nom nom.

:o

I'm glad you liked it. :D

interesting twist! It's funny how the farther we get into the story, the deeper we go into her past. (I'm also really curious to see if Watcher X makes an appearance, cause I loves him :D)

If you want Watcher, then I will give you Watcher X. Eventually :p;)

 

 

-----

 

 

 

A few hours later... (amazing how time flies when you're torturing a drug dealer :rolleyes:)

 

 

 

I bend down and slip a tracker under his collar which he will find eventually but not for a few hours. I insert a listening device into his belt which shouldn't be found for at least a few days.

 

'Do you always carry those, my dear?' Gault asks incredulously as he glances at me from his watch.

 

'Yes.' Always be prepared.

 

Gault shifts on his feet. 'Do you have any one me?'

 

Three and another four on your belongings. Twenty on HK.

 

I just look at him with a sly smirk. He checks his collar. I chuckle and continue my work. I slip a vile into Damin's pocket with a datapad and kolto patches. I was tempted to heal him myself but... I spent too much time on the Ekayn. And I don't want Gault to see how much I like Damin. We all have reputations to protect.

 

The three of us leave nine bodies behind. Two are alive.

 

'What did the datapad say, my dear?' Gault asks as me in a low voice under HK's complaints of leaving some organics alive.

 

'"See you in hell",' I calmly reply. Gault looks at me with a curious search and then looks away with a chuckle. I grunt and walk faster, trying to leave him far behind.

 

He matches my stride perfectly.

Edited by EverSteam
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Damin

 

 

I rub my neck; the bumpy skin is taunt around the new swelling. I slowly assess my damage. Nothing permanent. I look over my body and see everything as I left it. I sit up slowly and look around the room. Kaliyo is slowly waking. The room is in a disarray. I don't need to search the burning junk to know it's all gone.

 

I sit up and patch the scratches on my cheek. They won't scar this time. I don't know how to process this meeting. She spared me again. I was... pleased to see her amongst the shock and... It doesn't matter. She got what she wanted as always. She won't contact me again. This meeting will only be a footnote in my report and of interest to no one but me.

 

I stand up and begin to walk out, Kaliyo slowly following.

 

We walk to the taxi pad and get in a waiting taxi.

 

'Shadow town,' I direct.

 

Kaliyo attempts to ask me questions but I only evade them seamlessly.

 

When we get out, I reach into my pocket to throw the driver credits. All I find is a datapad, kolto patches and a vile that I am quick and smooth to hide from Kaliyo. I reach into my other pockets and find nothing. I'm not surprised or angry she took my credits. I'm more than a little amused.

 

'Your shout, Kailiyo,' I quietly order as I walk away.

 

I slip into a narrow path and pull out the datapad, unconsciously controlling my heart rate and breathing and suppressing the shaking of my hands, the trembling of my frown. I read the short message.

'I'm feeling stupid, Damin. Are you?'

 

A holo frequency follows. I laugh to myself and grin. It sounds a little strange as it echoes back to me. Is that how your laughter sounds? I had forgotten what my real laugh sounds like. I've long forgotten who Damin is.

 

As I walk to Watcher X alone, I come to a decision.

 

Yes, Leeriah, I'm feeling very stupid.

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New character...interesting!

I hope so. :o Damin's going to appear quite a bit though there probably won't be any more perspectives. Doing it like that just saved a flash back or mentioning later. :D

She does kind of need more people since she did kill half her crew....

 

 

-----

 

 

 

An hour since the last Leer post.... (fifteen minutes before Damin's)

 

 

 

 

Gault places our drinks on the table and eases into the booth next to me. He moves his arm around the back of the booth behind me, his drink in his other hand. He's careful not to touch me. If this didn't keep any unwanted attention away, I would probably threaten Gault and push him away. But I'm tired. So very, very tired. And it's going to be a long night.

'So are you going to tell me about your blue friend?' Gault asks eventually.

 

My eyes wander to his profile before returning to the dancers across the room. My top lip curls in disgust and I let my eyes slide on to less revolting things.

 

'I'm not sure if he's still a friend,' I correct eventually. 'I think he hasn't forgiven me for then. Understandable, I suppose. Not like I've forgiven anyone that did something like that against me.'

 

'You have an interesting idea of answering questions, my dear. Unless that was a deliberate evasion.' I return to studying Gault and notice his eyes aren't watching the dancers but scanning across the room and frequently returning to a few men in the booth across the room from us. They seem to be watching him just as much.

 

'He was someone from my very early days with the Organisation,' I blandly begin. There's no point not telling Gault anything. No point in telling him anything either. It's easier this way though. 'Some might have called him an "honoured long term guest" and I was to show him "our finest hospitality,"' I sardonically quote.

 

'He was meant to stay indefinitely because his father was a Moff and mother an Imperial Agent. He provided leverage as a hostage and information a trusted son. That's all,' I end with an anticlimactic shrug. Telling Gault specifics would still feel like a betrayal and make me a traitor. Because you aren't already, I silently mock myself. A sick sentiment to be left with after these years.

 

'I seriously doubt that is all, babe,' Gault returns without his eyes moving from the men.

 

'Yeah, well, it was all a long time ago. We've both changed.' I can't smother the bitterness in my voice as I think of his stoic expression and calm words. I would be a fool to think he was happy to see me. I wasn't lying when I told him I was feeling stupid. I'd be a fool to hope he is too.

 

'I have a feeling he still likes you, my dear.'

 

'Oh? Between our hostilities, slapping him and chocking him, what part gave you that impression?' I mockingly ask after listing the contrary evidence.

 

'Only someone that likes you stays around when you treat them like that. You didn't kill him,' he smoothly points out, eyes never darting to mine. If anything, they look as far away from me as they can. 'You still like him, don't you?'

 

I grunt and shake my head, averting my eyes from Gault who averts his from mine. He sees too much sometimes. But despite the aura of slime that covers Gault, people seem to like him, believe him and be manipulated by him. I suppose he somehow has people skills. This bizarre knowledge I can't comprehend leads me to ask a stupid question.

 

'Do you think I handled that poorly?'

 

'Do you mean your interaction with the man at the bar that you punched while getting our last round or do you mean your meeting with the blast-from-the-past blue-boy who you choked and left unconscious instead of drinking him into a comatose state like others?' Gault asks with mock sincerity and confusion.

 

'I'm guessing that is a 'yes' on the blue-boy front.' I look over to the bar and see the bartender glaring at me. 'And he deserved it. He used that line 'I can give you a bigger gun to play with.' I've been told that line since I first handled a gun fifteen years ago. He should be glad he didn't get worse,' I spit bitterly.

 

'Charming.' Gault eyes the spit that slides down the opposite booth wall with disgust and when his eyes return to the men, the disgust only gets worse. But he continues in a laughingly serious voice. 'You mean like that guy in the other cantina across the promenade we're now banned from because you tore the guys fingers off with your own hands? Or do you mean worse like that time on Hutta when you bit a man's tongue off and then made him swallow it?'

 

'He shouldn't of shoved it in my mouth if he didn't it want it bitten off,' I easily reply with a leer.

 

Gault pauses for a moment and grimaces. In the pause before he continues with the next item on a long list I imagine the retort 'remind me of that if I ever try to kiss you again'.

 

'Or my own personal favourite and I believe Torian's as well, when you almost ripped a guys balls off before beating him to a whining, bleeding pulp and shooting him after he soils himself? Is that what you mean by worse?'

 

I clench my fists and move a little further away from Gault. I don't want to think of that night. I don't want to think of Taris. I still day dream of going back and blowing up what remains of the entire planet. Spending all my credits on explosives. But that wouldn't achieve anything. And knowing the Republic, they'd probably try to colonise the floating chunks that remained.

 

'But on the subject of blue boy.... I can't say, my dear. It was you're call and you made the one you thought best. I've always been a fan of the old 'how are you? It's great to see you!' and a drink and handshake personally but I don't think I've ever seen you shake anyone's hand, not even for a deal.'

 

Mando'ad cross wrists. The immediate correction is unwanted. I grunt in reply and move a little closer to Gault again. If you shake hands, it's a deal you can't go back on. I can't promise my payers that I won't kill them. Only that I'll deliver someone's head.

 

'Of course, this all depends on whether or not you both slept together,' Gault continues. 'At which point the slapping makes a lot more sense,' Gault comments with a wry smile.

 

'It doesn't matter. Leave it be, Gault,' I warn. We didn't sleep together. Guests aren't allowed to sleep.

 

I put my hand on Gault's knee and dig my nails in a little. Just to make the message clear.

 

'Fine, fine, fine,' he hurriedly assures. He moves his hand to mine and flattens it out. I let him. He withdraws his after a small amount of pressure but I don't take away mine. I don't know why. I don't even think of it as something that is abnormal or needs to be changed. I just don't notice or care.

 

'Back to business then,' he continues. 'When do we strike the next two dealers?' Gault's eyes have moved from me back to across the room.

 

'The day after tomorrow. We strike both in a row. Then return to the ship, rest a night. You will have three nights leave. I leave on the fourth day at morning for a job I have been offered on Onderon. Come if you want. I won't wait for you.'

 

'Still pretending you don't want me around, babe? Don't you get a little tired of it?'

 

'Did it ever occur to you I don't want you around, Gault?' I unwelcomingly retort, my eyes somehow not managing to climb the distance to his.

 

'No, my dear.'

 

I grunt and laugh at the same time. My eyes close and I rest my head more on Gault's arm than the wall. It's comfortable.

 

'Why did you ask him to analyse Cyclone when you already have?' Gault asks eventually, rousing me from my exhausted dose.

 

'I wanted to cross check our results,' I return simply. Gault chuckles in that way he does and once again I want to move from his scrutiny of my eyes. I want my lies to turn from transparent to solid and for Gault to believe them even when I can't.

 

'What were our results?' It's asked with more concern for business than the idle curiosity or satire that marks most of Gault's questions.

 

'Do you want a list of what it's made of or if it's like mine?'

 

'Both or just the later.'

 

'It has strong similarities,' I report. Business is easy. Business is indifference. Only you aren't indifferent this time. 'There is a 44% match. It's missing the components that give you the ability to use it for a longer time as well as it's healing properties. At the same time, there's more of what's damaging to most organic species. Da- the Agent's information,' I quickly and almost easily correct, 'confirmed my suspicions that there was a link to the Republic. The Republic equals the Organisation. They're planning something. I need to know what.'

 

'Let's clarify why you want this information. Is it because of revenge?'

 

'Would you believe me if I said I was doing this for the good of the galaxy?' He looks at me with suspicious scepticism. 'No one deserves it. I don't want them to create anything more like me. There's already two too many.'

 

'Two?' Gault seems to freeze and can't even turn to look at me.

 

'Me and my good alter ego,' I say with a broad smile. Was that a save?

 

My datapad bleeps. If I didn't save myself, Damin just saved me. It will be weeks before I realise he only delayed the inevitable.

 

'He's moving. Direction is towards Shadow Town. I'll be back later tonight. You have the night to be a crime lord. Enjoy your three woman and ethereal discussions,' I comment with a wink and smirk as I climb over him.

 

And then I'm lost in the crowd.

Edited by EverSteam
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Hehe, this is true, poor girl. (Ok, I know she'd damage me for that one, but it's true :D)

:D

And there's something nice in a very messed up way about how close a freinds her and Gault are :) (at least to me :o). But maybe I just think that because there's not many 'nice' things to compare anything to anymore. :( (not that I have anyone else to blame for that :rolleyes: )

 

 

Anyway, I'm not sure on this one :confused: but... It's not really that long or important. I do like the end though. :o

But on with the show...

 

 

-----

 

 

 

A short taxi ride later...

 

 

 

I run lightly along the pipes and ledges above Damin, jumping down and following on the ground when there's no other choice. He stops and talks to a few guards. I only vaguely listen. He smooth talks to them for a while, his exterior different from the cold agent I met. He's become a friend to them, a fellow Imperial that understands the pain of late night watches. I try to stay focused. But I'm so tired and it's taking more energy than it used to stay unseen and quiet. I'm out of practice.

 

Eventually, he reaches what I think is the reason he speaks to each of them. He wants to know about what one of the prisoners has been doing - Watcher X. He parts them with a friendly smile and variations of 'stay alert'.

 

Once he goes further into the compound, I run out of darkness and pipes. I quietly curse. I'm left to wait outside like a dog for its master.

 

I touch my right implant above and in m ear, turning dials, flicking switches and pressing in codes. Eventually, my ears no longer hear the conversation of the guards below but Damin's assured footsteps.

 

'I assume you have my Cyclone specimen. Was there any troubles at the augmentations shop? Did you admire their work?' I narrow my eye. The man I assume is 'Watcher X' sounds disturbingly eager for a positive answer to such a pointless question. He sounds sly. I shift uncomfortably.

 

'There was no trouble. I have your specimen.' I smile at the lie. Damin's low voice is a soothing balm after Watcher X's but I know it can never last long.

 

'I need equipment I can't buy to analyse the Cyclone. There's an abandoned medical laboratory in the Duros Sector. If armed refugees haven't stripped it bare you can run the analysis at the bio scan.'

 

'And then?' A patient prompt.

 

'You send the results to me. And then I think about Cyclone's origins and connection to the terrorists. I'm very good at thinking.' I can't place anything particular in his voice. Only that it makes me uneasy.

 

'I will return with the results then.'

 

Damin leaves. I listen to his footsteps and then soon enough I can see him. He says good night to the guards with a smile and orders of 'stay alert's as he walks out with. I follow him. He doesn't take the short route to the taxi but walks through alleys. He knows I'm following.

 

After half an hour, he drops a datapad. I wait for him to walk around the corner and drop down. I bend down to pick it, noticing my listening device and tracker. I chuckle to myself and pick them up, putting them in my pocket. I underestimated him. He knew I was there. And knew I was listening. He's good. Very good. I wonder if his fighting is as good as his brains. Still think you're no longer a Mando'ad?Shut it.

 

I shake my head but the malicious, laughing presence doesn't leave. If only my mind would leave me alone for a while. Insanity is something I was getting used to and good at. Stupidity is a new game again.

 

I read the message.

'I'm feeling stupid, Leeriah. And insulted.'

 

I grin and let out a far too loud and joyful laugh. I won't make it so easy for him next time. I slide the datapad into my pocket and walk to the taxi pad. I don't see Damin again that night.

Edited by EverSteam
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Hehe, the end is good, also Watcher X!!! So creepy and intriguing :) This is good that she has some light moments here mixed in with a lot of dark. Rollercoaster it is :)

:D

I'm glad you're still enjoying it despite... hmm, let's call it the 'Torian incident'. That sounds nicer than what it was, like how the 'Quinn incident' makes it sound like he wasn't a

back stabbing, Baras loving traitor that tears out your heart and leaves it lying on the floor amongst the rubble of his pathetic droids. (I'm not still bitter at all :rolleyes: )

 

So odd.

:(:confused:

The relationship of Gault and Leer, introducing the IA or there still undefined and confused relationship that's irreversibly marked with their painful history, a sense of debt after she saved him, the common liking and sympathy that led her to do it and a cross path in loyalties that will only become exacerbated?

Edited by EverSteam
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Taken from something I posted in When I Wake. I never thought I'd use it. Been altered quite a bit to fit in.

 

 

Three nights later...

 

 

 

I move my fingers along the instrument in a way I don't think about. I never got to show Torian I could play the bes'bev. I was waiting for a moment to surprise him that would never come. And playing it now, to not even his ghost in the cargo hold he haunted for so long, hurts more than if someone had driven the bes'bev into me.

 

But I don't mind the pain. It only makes the music a little more bitter and a little better. Some say music is the finest expression of the soul. I wouldn't know about that. I only know this is my way of crying.

 

But my thoughts aren't entirely with Torian. For the first time in a decade, I'm thinking of Damin. And what saving him cost me. It made me realise I needed to be patient. I needed to wait. And I needed to get stronger.

 

I walk into the room and see my next Guest. My third in my first week. First was an older woman that was hard to break, the second was a scumbag Rodian that was ready to squeal as soon as I picked up the knife. And now I have what looks like a blue Imperial boy.

 

I glance at the information they've given me and what I'm to attain information of. There are strict orders that he isn't to suffer any long term or large amounts of blood loss. He's a long term guest.

 

Seventeen, Chiss and human, honour student in the Imperial academy. The vague information goes on. There's more on his parents than on him.

 

I toss the file away carelessly and walk around the boy in the chair, assessing him. His straps are loose. I'll need to tighten them. I end my seventh circle in front of him and look over his face. His eyes are too bright. I'll have to remember to tell the Care Taker's to fix that. And he looks too nice and gentle. I will have to fix that. I try to harden myself but I can't. I don't want to hurt you.

 

'You've been crying,' he says in a room that echoes and amplifies the kind words. This room isn't used to hearing kindness or pity. He's spitting in a temple.

 

I move to the work bench. I'm not sure where to begin. I don't want to begin. I like the look of him. He's Imperial, a voice reminds me in a whisper. And innocent, I return. He will become a soldier or worse. But he isn't yet. It's the now that matters. And now he is a sweet young man that I have to hurt despite knowing it's wrong because of who his parents are. Will they all be this hard?

 

'How do you know I've been crying?' I return with a smirk.

 

His next words make my heart cry in the way my eyes can't. They make what I have to do impossible. But I know I will. I have no choice. They teach us to complete the morally impossible. I still refuse to learn. Even if I make him scream, he won't leave any sooner. He won't die any sooner. The Organisation doesn't let its Guests go that easy. It doesn't let anyone go.

 

'Because you're here and you look so sad.'

 

'Is that a flute?'

 

My fingers stop and so does the air, the last notes ending abruptly. I was wondering when Gault would speak. He's been watching me for half an hour, silently and in the shadows. As long as it had stayed that way, I didn't mind.

 

'No, Gault, it's what's going to be lodge up your arse if you don't shut up soon,' I reply with aggressive sarcasm. The moment and feeling is gone. It won't come back tonight. So I limply hold the bes'bev in my hand.

 

'You play the flute?' Gault asks in a shocked and distant tone despite my warning, still needing clarifications.

 

'Yes,' I reply shortly and with a roll of my eye. I stand up and walk closer to Gault, who doesn't move away yet.

 

'Isn't it a little... delicate for you, babe?' he ventures with the same dazed tone. Never thought Gault would be so shocked his wit would shrivel up and die like a fern on Tatooine.

 

'Are you saying I'm not delicate?' I reply with cold anger and continue my advance. Try not to smirk as I see Gault's life entering his eyes again and wonder how Gault will manoeuvre his way out of this. I'm not really angry. I just like teasing Gault like this. The sadness of the memory still clings. But it's the ones that come after that will hurt the most. I hold the feelings in and protect them from Gault's constant scrutiny. I can't let him see me cry.

 

'I'm guessing if I don't want that flute sticking out of my stomach I should say 'no',' he replies after a pause already edging towards bottom of the staircase for an escape.

 

'Exactly. If I were you, I would say 'no' pretty soon,' I suggest as I still slowly walk forward, looking at the shining flute in my hand very closely.

 

'Did you know, Gault, that the bes'bev is a Mando flute made from beskar that doubles as a weapon?' I look at my flute thoughtfully. 'Yeah, had some good times with this one. Went into a few jobs with only this as a weapon.

 

Always hated undercover jobs. Seems a lot of people are attracted to musicians. Never seen it myself,' I say conversationally, edging closer to Gault who moves up the stairs backward.

 

'Do dancers count as musicians?' he asks as a distraction.

 

I laugh and put the flute into my belt which makes Gault noticeably relax. I don't want him to stop fearing me. I like us as we are. Easy jibes and comfortable proximity. Gault is right. I don't want him to leave. I feel a little braver, a little stronger and a little happier when he's with me. But I will never let him know that. I would rather carve out my own eyes with the bes'bev.

 

'No, Gault, they really don't.'

 

'Can't say I see the appeal either then.' He leans against the rails outside my room on the top of the landing as I lean against the wall a few steps below. 'Though if it were you playing it...'

 

I roll my eye at Gault and shake my head. I ignore the comment and continue my own train of thought. 'I'd always hoped Torian would. Always thought it might make him all happy and... you know, since it's Mando and everything.'

 

'A little devious, aren't we?' Gault asks with a raised eyebrow.

 

'Ah, if only you knew what it felt to make someone look like that, Gault. It's... it made me feel good. And happy. Never felt anything like that until I met Torian,' I explain wistfully. And I guess I won't anymore.

 

Gault only makes gagging motions but a frown hangs on the corners of his lips and his eyes regard me with cynical amusement.

 

I shake my head and sigh. 'Anyway, you know I once hollowed a targets eye sockets with only this?' My feelings aren't a subject of discussion for us.

 

'I didn't, my dear, and I don't require much imagination or belief in your insanity to picture you doing it. Any reason for it, my dear, or did you just feel like it?'

 

'I think it had something to do with him looking at the waitress instead of me playing despite the fact that I was in a demeaning outfit even the most degenerate dancers would refuse to wear.' I lower my voice to an exaggerated whisper and confess that 'I didn't appreciate him not listening to my playing.'

 

'Well, I'm sure he didn't make that mistake again.' Gault pauses and then remembers something. 'Was the costume any better than the ones in that cantina down in the Red Light Sector?' he asks curiously.

 

'The ones with the material here,' I gesture to different parts of my body, 'and metal here with the top like this?' I continue the gestures and Gault nods along.

 

'Those exactly,' Gault confirms.

 

'Well you know how they had this here and that there...' I wait for his confirming nods as I gesture to parts of my body with a lack of self consciousnesses. He nods and I continue. 'They weren't there.'

 

His eyes widen and he lets out an appreciative whistle. 'That much better?' I smirk and nod. 'Wow, my dear, just wow.' His eyes look me over carefully and I only raise an eyebrow and cross my arms. He frowns slightly in concentration.

 

He moves towards me and walks around me. I stand still but not rigid. I have forgotten everything but the memory and this conversation so much that I am not even aware that there is anything to forget.

 

'But how did it stay up if that wasn't there or there? It seems impossible for even a dancers outfit.'

 

'Do you really want me to spoil the magic by telling you?' I ask teasingly.

 

'Well, I would prefer if it was by you showing me in great detail but somehow I don't imagine it being in your physical closet.'

 

I raise an eyebrow at Gault's blatant suggestion and wonder when the shallow flirting will stop. He really hasn't changed.

 

'I do actually.' Gault looks at me suspiciously and takes a few steps back. I shrug. 'You never know.'

 

'If I see it on you, will it be the last thing I see before you gouge my eyes out as well?'

 

'Most definitely.'

 

'Hmm... it's almost worth it. But I'd prefer to see you in this shirt everyday then a dancers outfit for one night.' I scoff at Gault's sweet talk and shake my head. Despite the Devaronian on board, I continue to frequently only wear a large, new shirt I bought with the original idea for it to only be slept in. That was a month ago and it's hardly been removed when on the ship and never been washed. It still smells brand new.

 

'But I still want you tell me how it worked.'

 

I shrug. I have lost interest in this conversation. 'It was specially made for me. There were small but strong magnets on the inside of the material. I believe it took them three months to figure out how to sow magnets on to see through black lace.'

 

Gault raises an eyebrow. 'Black lace? Isn't that a little...' Gault trails off at my dangerous stare. 'On second thought, never mind. And on third thought, the image just got a whole lot better.'

 

'Nice recovery, Gault. I think you just saved your eyes for now despite the large lie you had to tell to do it.'

 

'Oh but it's the truth, sweet heart. If I were your target, I don't think I would notice the existence of a waiter or anything else as long as you were wearing that in front of me.' He moves closer smoothly his eyes trying to catch mine. Sometimes Gault really is so smooth and genuine even to my cynical eye, I find myself believing the utter bantha **** that escapes his mouth.

 

'But even as you always are, I never notice anyone else, my lovely. I only have eyes for you.'

 

I snort in derision and wrap my arms tighter around me. I suddenly feel how I used to without armour on: naked, vulnerable and ready to kill anything that touched me.

 

I take out the flute again and poke it's sharp, pointed end. 'I wonder if it can still gouge someone's eyes out. I haven't sharpened it in a while.' My eyes brighten eagerly as I look up to Gault. 'Do you want to be my test subject?'

 

'Wow, I'm both flattered and tempted but I'll have to turn you down on that,' Gault says with a dramatic show of remorse, retracing his steps backward.

 

'Well if you're so flattered and tempted then I insist.' I jump to Gault which he side steps. He jumps off the railing and runs for the engine room. I follow.

 

I force him into a corner and twirl the flute between my fingers.

 

'Woah, woah, woah. Don't do anything you'll regret. I need these eyes you know. We're not all comfortable with one. Or none,' Gault rambles as he holds his hands up. Not exactly the best attempt at trying to talk his way out of something he's ever done. He'd be better off going back to shameless flattery.

 

I only smirk and jump at Gault again. I press him against the railing and hold the flutes sharp end close to his right eye. His hands move to my shoulders to push me away and I laugh until I look into his eyes. Something hard and serious in Gault's eyes stops my movements and dries my laughter. He stops pushing as he became aware of what I only now notice: our bodies pushing against each other, our mouths close, and my hand on the back of his head and other physical reactions.

 

His hands tighten on my shoulders and pulls them ever so slightly closer to him. He leans his head down towards me a little, his mouth open and the two rows of shining teeth flashing in the dark of his mouth. Gault's hands move down from my shoulders, pressing my lower back.

 

'Leave, Cyare.'

 

I sneer at Gault and break the... stare. I force a laugh and begin to walk out, flippantly saying something about removing his eyes next time over my shoulder. I shake my head, pleased and disconcerted that I don't hear anything clink. I touch my wet ear and look at my bloodied finger tips. So it really has begun already.

 

Gault follows as I grab a few bottles of wine from the cargo hold. He watches me and leans against the air lock frame.

 

'Going somewhere?' he asks curiously.

 

'I am, actually.' I inform. I'm already late. It's best to keep him waiting.

 

'Do you always drink as you slaughter everyone?'

 

'No. And I'm not slaughtering many people tonight. Only one if all goes to plan.'

 

'So you're on a date?'

 

'Think of it how you want. If thinking of it as a date makes it easier for you to comprehend then do so.' Gault doesn't need to know about my meeting. The less he knows the better. For me.

 

'Right. You're really sick, my dear.'

 

'I know. And I like you too, Gault,' I mockingly and lightly reply. A sound escapes Gault like a real, happy laugh but I think I'm mistaken as the sound becomes coughing.

 

'Are you meeting your favourite and mysterious Chiss from years past?' he asks curiously. I will see Damin again soon. Until then, I have a different agent to play a game with.

 

'No. He hasn't called yet.' I reply without thinking. My minds already with Jonas. We organised a meeting. He's playing the role of that man in a bar and I'm just a woman. We both know otherwise. I need my head in that game, not this one.

 

'And why would you be expecting his call? Or is hell coming earlier this year?' Gault's mocking amusement is palpable and I wonder how Gault ever managed to get under Torian's skin. The Devaronian is harmlessly irritating only.

 

'Hilarious, Gault, truly hilarious.'

 

He ignores my sarcasm and continues. 'Don't you think one man aboard is enough to irk your pet Mando?'

 

'A tip for living longer - don't stand next to the air lock. It makes it too tempting to push you out of it.' Are you ever going to tell him?

 

Gault looks at me with cautious glare and comes to stand closer, leaning against the start of the stairs on my left. I make sure I can see him in my peripheral vision as I put the bottles into a bantha hide bag.

 

'So is he handsome? Or is it a woman?'

 

I laugh. 'It's a man,' I say with bitter confidence.

 

'Are you sure? You only have one eye if I might say.'

 

'Yes, I'm sure. And no, Gault, you might not say that. If I had bad vision I'd be looking at you twice. Might hide a few of those wrinkles from view,' I dryly comment.

 

'Hey! I'll have you know I'm very attractive for a Devaronian or any other specimen of masculinity.' I raise an sceptical eyebrow at this and move a hand to my hip. He only holds up a hand to show case himself and smiles impishly. 'And I thought you were having more than a second look earlier.'

 

I glare at Gault sharply with a murderous intent. Gault and I have been friends for over two years now. I'd hate for it to end just because he didn't know when to shut the **** up. He deserves a better death than following Mako's. Did I ever get rid of her body...?

 

'Sure, Gault. Whatever helps you sleep.' I walk up the stairs to my room and Gault trails behind.

 

'Having you, my dear, would help me sleep.'

 

'Really laying it on thick tonight, aren't you? A little desperate and lonely are we? I told you, you have tonight and tomorrow night off. Go find your three women and plot some crime lords down fall.'

 

'I'm never lonely when I'm near you, sweet heart. I don't need three women when I'm with you.'

 

I scoff again. 'Don't expect me to do anything they would do.' I close my room's door on his retort. I pull on some pants and change into a different shirt. I open the door again and Gault is still standing there. I smile and walk back down.

 

'Never heard a woman complain by the way,' he adds as he moves to stand behind me. I sling my bag over my shoulder and pick up my belt, checking that the knives, guns and explosive are all in order.

 

'Weren't you listening to me just before?'

 

'Always listening to you,' he replies with a seriousness I know not to trust and to only laugh at. The moment I believe him, is the moment I will make a mistake I will never forgive myself for.

 

'Are you still lying to me after all this time? Been two years or more hasn't it, Gault? Still in the lying stage of this relationship?'

 

'We're in a relationship?' he asks curiously. I know where Gault is taking that and I roll my eye.

 

'Yeah, a business relationship. We scam people together, collect bounties together, I try and kill you at least three times a day and then we laugh about it later while you continue to use me and lie to me. That relationship.'

 

'Lie to you? I would never lie to someone as beautiful as you,' he smoothly replies in the voice he uses on gullible yet beautiful and often rich women in cantinas.

 

'Smooth, Gault, really smooth. Spend all day oiling that tongue of yours?' I retort.

 

He lets a smile break across his face but restrains any laughter. 'Why don't you come closer and find out?' he beckons in that same suggestive voice.

 

'Still in the stage where you're shallowly pursing me with no real desire to do anything with me but cheat people, break you out of jail and drink?' I ask with an amused sneer, not moving closer or further away.

 

'Shallowly?' Gault asks innocently. 'I mean everything I say to you. There's nothing I want more than you,' he asserts in a low voice, moving closer. The shadow of the stairs makes Gault's face appear darker and his shining eyes an unnerving red. 'I could think of a few stages that involve us getting closer, if you're interested. I've been interested in them for a long while.' His voice is more steady and low than I ever thought it could be as he tries to coax me too earnestly into something I would forever regret. I'm not that insane yet.

 

He reaches a hand out to me and slowly laces it around my waist. I consider my options. Breaking Gault's fingers is overly done by now and shooting his ankle could leave permanent damage that would affect his usefulness. So I decide for a classic. I sharply and quickly raise my knee into Gault's groin. I walk past Gault and head to the exit as he somehow remains standing.

 

'Good bye, Gault,' I call back to him. 'Try not to let HK kill you while I'm out.'

 

 

 

----

 

 

@ Hoyden: yes, most definetly messed up.

Edited by EverSteam
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:(:confused:

The relationship of Gault and Leer, introducing the IA or there still undefined and confused relationship that's irreversibly marked with their painful history, a sense of debt after she saved him, the common liking and sympathy that led her to do it and a cross path in loyalties that will only become exacerbated?

 

Just the whole situation. Didn't mean it in a negative light, don't worry. :o

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