Ask Nar Shaddaa The Final Part

[Nashyr Ris]

When the two unconscious bodies were collected by Jaxu and Aubrey, Nash and Max limped their way back to her office in the Slicer's Vice. Until the two prisoners were secured and conscious, she wanted desperately to have at least some sort of drink, though she recalled he jokingly asked for rum.

And so rum it would be.

She had gotten herself a medkit also; it didn't hurt to have one in the girls' dressing room, and during off hours no one would need it. Besides, he had some nasty-looking wounds himself; it was the least she could do.

When they got to her office, she waited until he was seated, then locked the door, and closed the blinds, before pacing to a small storage locker and keying it open. From within there hung a spare shirt and a slot for her to put up her armor; she'd have to replace the damaged panel, but it could wait. She also supposed she could find a private place to get dressed, but in her business modesty didn't put credits in her account.

She turned her back to him, slipping off the shirt and the blast vest nonchalantly. "Don't worry, I won't shoot you," she said over her shoulder, slipping on the new top and wincing at the irritation flaring to life where a blaster burned her.

A bandage was never fashion-approved. But she could treat the burn with a shirt on... shame about the other shirt though. She felt halfway decent in it, and now it had a burn in the middle. When it was on, she slipped the gun in the top portion, and the holster with it, then snagged one of the few bottles she kept stashed away, and two glasses.

"Coruscanti Rum. Not the finest... but a lot smoother than the rough stuff we serve downstairs." She waited until he would make some sign of approval before pouring some for both, and settling into her chair with a groan, taking a beat to rub the space between her brows with the heel of her hand.

"We have a little time to talk... both about our friends downstairs," she tilted her head in the direction of where the gangsters were held in another room, "and I need answers about what happened earlier. So let's start with why you came to my bar."

She opened up the medkit, and began looking for things that may treat burns. She was no expert, but it wasn't the first time she was shot at either. She was certain her companion had similar events happen, but she would wait meantime... and see what he wanted to say. But...

She had the gut feelings the things he needed to say were the things she wanted to hear. Or wished to hear.

@Nefieslab

 

[Maxims Tionson]

They had returned and they had a chance to rest, to ease themselves of their burdens and yet there was no rest to be found for Max. He had been outed, by his own actions, as a Jedi to Nashyr and, likely, to some of the locals. If he wanted to continue working under the radar he was going to need to seriously think about leaving Nar Shaddaa.

For as much good as a Jedi could bring just by their sheer presence in some areas, a known Jedi on Nar Shaddaa would just end up being something to be avoided. People would guard themselves far more carefully and he would not be able to see the evils and the schemes that he was currently afforded by his anonymity.

He didn't react to her comment about shooting him beyond a small raise of his eyebrow. It wasn't a very funny joke when he knew that Jedi had been shot dead in the past purely for their convictions. For their alignment to the Light or the Order.

Ignoring the way she was making herself comfortable he moved over to the poured drink and downed it before pouring himself another. Max had never had a drinking problem like some of his friends had had in the past but he wasn't a light weight either. Something to chalk up to experience he supposed. Reaching into his armored robes, Max withdrew his lightsaber.

The noise it made as he laid it on the table was far louder than something it's size should have been able to make.

His fingers hesitated along it's hilt for a second before he pulled his hand away and just stared down at it for a long moment. He had every intention of speaking to Nashyr but he still couldn't bring himself to look away from the lightsaber, the weapon of both Jedi and Sith. Closing his eyes for a second was the only way for him to bring himself to move his head away from it to actually look at Nashyr as he swirled the second drink around in his glass.

"The girl, the one who died. At least originally." he admitted with a soft sigh, his free hand rubbing at his beard, "You deserved to see things through and I was always going to see it through one way or another. So I helped make you a part of it for that reason but also for another reason as well..."

His eyes bored into hers.

"You have a connection to the Force beyond that which all living creatures have, Nashyr. You are Force Sensitive."

@Killa Ree

 

[Nashyr Ris]

Her eyes followed as he set down his lightsaber; she flinched slightly at the sound as it landed on the wooden surface, eyes flicking back up to meet his as she slowly settled into her chair further, and took a long sip of her own drink. She let him talk and let silence reign for a few beats when he finally admitted the full reason why he came.

She exhaled softly at the mention of Jazzy; it didn't make the loss any less acute. The girl wasn't a friend, but Nashyr felt some responsibility for her safety, and her death was like a slap in the face to all her hard work to make it a safer haven, in its' own way. But equally so, she ached over the fact that the girl was so young and naïve; she couldn't have imagined all the pain, horror and humiliation she suffered, just because her work happened to involve stripping. Nash wasn't a saint, but she tried her damned hardest to make the galaxy a bit more fair.

Goody two-shoes often got bit in the tail, and this was a pretty karking good nip to the butt.

And then... he said it. She met her gaze with his, squarely, taking another long, leisurely sip and staring over the rim of her glass, face kept deliberately impassive. When she finally swallowed, she spoke.

"...I know."

Perhaps it wasn't the response he was expecting, but she was hardly in the mood for lies or vague truths. "My parents both were; we had ancestry that served with the Jedi, when the Republic was still in existence. Many of them perished, but my great-grandparents survived."

She sighed, closing her eyes briefly and wincing as she shifted again to get more comfortable. "I'm the only one of my litter to also be sensitive; I was told to keep it a secret. I thought I was doing a good job." Her lips twisted to a wry, sad smile, and a small chuckle escaped her lips. "So much for that. But aren't I a little old to recruit?" She tilted a brow at him, downing the rest of her drink and pouring a second herself.

@Nefieslab

 

[Maxims Tionson]

He met her gaze and when she said it he stared at her for a little longer before he kind of deflated.

"Well that god for that." he muttered, "You have no idea how annoyingly awkward it is to try and explain the whole concept of the Force to someone who doesn't know any better. To someone who has had it part of their lives for so long as a nameless thing that they can't even begin to accept that it has a name."

That was typically how most people beyond childhood treated the revelation that they were Force sensitive. When she continued he listened attentively but he also had the last of his second glass of rum as well. While he was interested and he was listening to her completely, he still felt the need to add the comforting burn of the rum to his night.

It was an odd salve but he would take it until he could treat his burns with bacta or actual burn salve.

"It's good that you have a basis for it in some ways but not so well in others." he admitted, "For starter, the Jedi Order has very lax rules on recruitment these days. I didn't start training to be a Jedi until I was well into my 30s."

Yeah he had been a late starter but it happened. He smirked ever so slightly.

"You can't keep it a secret forever, Nashyr. There's nothing worse than trying to live your entire life ignoring part of yourself and eventually it revolts and you out yourself one way or another."

@Killa Ree

 

[Nashyr Ris]

She chuckled into her glass at his reaction, giving him a tilted half-smile after swallowing down the rest of her drink. "I can imagine," she smirked, setting down the glass long enough to refill; she then slid the medkit his way, gesturing at it.

"Sounds like personal experience, old man," she teased, giving him a small wink. "So what... you want me to join a ragtag band of good guys? Wouldn't a strip club owner seem just a little bit odd to you?"

Well... he was an ex-cop. And she'd bet the next week's tips he wasn't even crooked before his training. Speaking of, though...

It wouldn't be too much longer until their captives would begin to stir. And then the real test would begin.

@Nefieslab

 

[Maxims Tionson]

Max had joined the Jedi in his thirties and even if he hadn't been the oldest trainee, he had been the oldest in his batch of trainees for being called old? Well it was kind of a day-to-day occurrence for him. Plus he was old enough, grey enough and mature enough to accept that he was the wrong side of forty.

The aches he sometimes got out of nowhere were kind of a big hint too.

"I want to offer you the choice." he admitted with a small smile, "Would I like you to be a Jedi? Of course I would but what I want in this situation doesn't matter in the slightest."

He set his empty glass back down on the bar.

"You're a strip club owner. I was a cop. I've known Jedi who were assassins, pimps, whores, soldiers and worse - the Jedi Order isn't about who you were or even who you are currently." he shrugged, "It's about who you want to be."

Max eyed their captives.

"What do you want to do with them, Nashyr? Honestly."

@Killa Ree

 

[Nashyr Ris]

Huh.

For the first time in over a decade... there was the possibility of freedom just dangling in front of her. An ability to take charge for once, rather than doing things others wanted. She became who she was to protect her brother and his views... but the last time she pursued what she wanted, it fell apart.

She tilted her head slightly, then sighed. "It's been a long time since I've thought about what I wanted to be." She gave him a small, tired smile, the teasing façade dropping for a moment, shoulders slumping. "I sure as hell didn't want this; I love all my girls, my place, but I'm so tired of keeping it together, only to lose more." There was not only Jazzy; other girls came to mind. Some she lost by happy circumstance, others... not.

This was the first time she held justice in her hands. Justice for how many other lives they took... and revenge.

But she thought of the gangsters they had to kill earlier... and the anger started to ebb. "What I want to do doesn't matter anymore," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. One of them groaned, shifting his wrists sluggishly against the restraints. "You were right; let those most affected figure out their justice."

She snagged her comm, paging Aubrey. "Collect these two and bring them to your boss," she spoke in clipped tones. "Bring in Siggy, she'll want in about her sister. And Barisa, too. Let them figure out what to do with these two idiots." She clicked off, then leaned back in her chair again. She felt as tired as she probably looked; the adrenaline and anger that fueled her earlier left her sore and exhausted. "Justice is served, and the Hutts will be happy that their cash flow won't be affected," she grimaced at the idea. "But... I never thought of being a Jedi," she admitted, leaning forward slowly and head tilted slightly.

"I'm interested, and listening."

@Nefieslab

 

[Maxims Tionson]

That was usually the case.

When people grew up into adults they seemed to allow themselves to become static, they convinced themselves that they couldn't change themselves or their lives. They convinced themselves that they would never be able to change. That there were too many things standing in their way, too many responsibilities or maybe too much baggage.

He didn't say anything.

It was up to her to realize that the chains, the ties, that held her to this life, this life she did not enjoy or feel was her own, could be broken easier. Talk of breaking chains was Old Sith talk, sure, but that didn't matter to him and it didn't matter to the Jedi either. When you could look into yourself and escape the pains you embraced in moments of weakness? That was good. Of course sometimes it was about being true to yourself rather than being true to what others wanted of you.

She made her decision and he could live with it.

Max walked a very narrow line he knew, where he wanted people to face justice but he loathed the very idea of that justice coming at the end of a blade or blaster. Sometimes it would happen regardless but he would never accept it unless it came from some form of judgement by those effected by the crimes. Killing during the hunt, for example, would have been empty, hollow and wrong to him. A robbery of the justice that the victims needed, of the closure that those left behind demanded.

"Well I'm a Jedi Knight and you would be a Jedi Padawan." he explained with a small smile, "If you wanted to tag along you'd do so with me to begin with. After that?"

He shrugged slightly.

"I can show you to the Jedi Temple and you can learn there or you can keep on travelling with me. But I warn you..." he waved a hand around them to indicate the whole mess that they'd gotten into, "I tend to stick my nose in a lot. Just can't help myself, you know?"

@Killa Ree

 

[Nashyr Ris]

"No, really?" She chuckled at that, giving him an amused stare. That old spark glinted in her eyes again, and she glanced about her office, letting out a low sigh.

It wasn't the life she picked out for herself; if she would have been told during her growing years that she would man a strip joint on Nar Shaddaa, she'd have asked them just how spaced out they were, and laughed it off. She felt a responsibility for this place... and giving up that power, the power of credits and protection, was a strong grounding point. But here was a chance to start clean again, to be free.

...Heh. It was funny in a way; she had worked here so long, she forgot she could just leave it at any time. "I can... but I'll have to get my affairs in order." She squared her shoulders, wincing at the movement. "This club'll stay on under my name, but it's survived without me before."

She arched her brow at him, then gave them a waggle. "However, if my ancestor's stories were true, I still refuse to call you Master." She gave him a wide grin, then exhaled out a huff of amusement. "Sure, I'll tag along. Just try not to get me shot."

@Nefieslab

 

[Maxims Tionson]

Yeah he didn't suppose it was much of a surprise that Max was the definition of a do-gooder meddler. Because he meddled, a lot, in his pursuit of doing good. She would probably get the chance to see just how he operated on a day to day basis if she tagged along for any amount of time really.

He was a little bit surprised that she was so eager to come away with him and join the Jedi but it was a pleasant surprise. She had a decent life here and things weren't going as badly as they could be. She had a chance now to really turn things around in her current life but she seemed to be realizing the truth now and that was that she would always regret not being true to the part of herself she had tried to bury, the part of herself that connected to the Force and found itself at home there.

At the Master part he flinched every so slightly before covering it with a little smile.

"Don't worry, I'm not that. I'm just a Knight and I'll be an instructor if you wish it of me, nothing more."

He was no Master.

"You'll need something to help you avoid getting shot actually." he admitted before holding his lightsaber out for her to hold, "You need a lightsaber."

@Killa Ree

 

[Nashyr Ris]

She stared at the lightsaber hilt for a moment.

She reached out slowly, testing its' weight in her palm... humming out a breath at the touch of it. A lot of people watched the historical holovids, knew the stories of the Emperor, of Darth Vader and those before the fall of the Republic, the Jedi. She remembered her grandparents' stories, told by her great-grandparents before them, and the many terrible things that befell the Order.

And now here was a Jedi before her. If she wasn't in pain, she'd have thought it a rather lucid dream, or at least a new lucid dream. Funny how seeing something so instrumental to the Jedi made it real, no longer like some sort of fairy tale or family story. It was an almost-terrifying feeling: another person knew her secret. Not even Jaxu knew her secret... and yet she told Max.

Someone that was practically a stranger in some ways... but yet, she had good instincts about people, and he seemed to hit no wrong feelings. She grinned partially at his own reaction of her not calling him Master, and tilted her head, holding the hilt gently.

"It's funny..." she said softly, greenish-gold eyes contemplative. "I finally have a chance to do some real good, and I'm not even sure I can use the one tool that seems to define the Jedi." She set it back down on the desk lightly, as though it were something living, and stared back straight into his face, all joviality gone.

"I'm done here. Once I have a couple days... I'm all set and ready to go. Besides..."

Lips quirked into a faint smile.

"No time like the present... right?"

/End Thread