Welcome Home

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

Welcome

Home

| ⬤ | ⬤ | ⬤ | ⬤ |

Heavy boots trudged up the ramp of Crix's XS-100 Corellian light freighter. He closed and locked the door to the main hold, but anyone with his encryption would be able to get in. Luckily, for Crix the only person who might have it was Leah and he was pretty sure she'd loaded up on one of the larger transports a few hours ago. He couldn't get the pained expression that lingered just behind her smile out of his mind. Poor thing looked like she could use a drink.

Speaking of, his eyes landed on his wet bar and resolved to make himself a drink once he'd gotten the dirt and grease off him. Peetwo had abandoned him to run off with Susan. He knew the little guy would be back before they needed to go and Crix had forced the little droid to prep the ship for him more times than the smuggler could count. He fired up the ship's engines and stripped down to his boxers. He threw his dirty clothes into the overflowing hamper in his Captian's quarters and made a note to do laundry...

He started up the water in the refresher and cranked up the heat. He stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over him. His shoulder's and lower back ached and he knew he was going to be stiff for days, but good deeds were worth sore backs. It felt good to help out some people in their time of need, he just wished he'd of been able to help out a little more.

The scoundrel wondered when he'd see his friend again, he wasn't really sure how the whole rebellion thing worked, but he'd been given the coordinates that everyone else had so he guessed that was it. He ran his hands over his faces pushing his hair back. He turned off the water and toweled off. He stepped out of the refresher and immediately got goosebumps.

"Kark it's cold, in here!" He blurted into an empty ship. He quickly hurried to his room and dressed. He threw on a pair of navy trousers, a black tunic, and quickly slipped into his trusty leather jacket to fend off the sudden chill. Feeling refreshed, he decided to pour that drink. He still had some restocking to do and decided to fill a flask with Corellian Rye, so he could kill two birds with one stone. He took a hit and decided to get back to work. The smuggler ambled back down the loading ramp, tipping the flask back once more for good measure. Okay, he was a little bummed he'd missed Leah.

Crix hit the bottom of the ramp and wondered where in the world Peetw-- er, Peter was. He wasn't used to being totally isolated, Peetwo had been his partner for years and the thought of losing the little guy was starting to wear on him. He finished his prep, and hit his com.

"Uh, Peter? Ya coming buddy?"

@Deviant

 

[Leah Reach]

“Ambassador, almost all the transports have left. Are you ready to leave?” Lieutenant Dodanna said, arms behind her back and eyes forward, interrupting the wandering thoughts of Leah Reach. The ambassador was settled on the far corner of the Old Temple, quiet and alone.

Although she was tasked to personally oversee the evacuations, she left the heavy lifting to her subordinates. Not because she was lazy or indifferent, but because she was physically and mentally exhausted. She needed time alone. A chance to think clearly. About what she said in the tribunal, what she did to Master Blackwood. Her dispute with Vu’thari, the discussion between Castor and Devrim. The day was a disaster, and Leah was left perched atop the rubble.

She paused to answer the Lieutenant when she spotted it. A familiar ship and a bucket of bolts. Light freighters were common around the extensive landing pads but there was something else about it. A rusted paint job. Small black marks marred the hull. It wasn’t what was outside that piqued her interest, but rather inside. There was a faint but very distinct presence, and Leah knew it to be the smuggler she met back on Ord Mantell.

Crix was meant to be a full-fledged member of the Jedi Order, trained in the ways of the Force, but he unexpectedly dropped communication with her after she sent him to Kashyyyk. Why? She had a few thoughts. Fear, doubt, uncertainty. Whatever he experienced on his pilgrimage must have driven him away. The real question was: why had he returned?

“Just give me a little longer, Lieutenant.” Leah finally answered. The young woman nodded and marched back to double check the evacuation efforts. “Of course, ma’am.” As she returned into the depths of the Old Temple, Leah drifted toward the freighter. Her eyes fixed on the marks along the hull, bringing back memories like it was yesterday.

A thin smile grew on her face as she remembered the good old times. Before she was hurled into the position she was now in, before the calamity that now faced the Alliance and the Jedi Order. Why couldn’t it be as simple as it was back on Ord Mantell? She may have hated the scavenger’s paradise but at least, over there, she found real adventure. A sense of peace and purpose.

Several footsteps echoed down the landing ramp. Leah followed after. As she circled around, she found none other than Crix in the flesh. When he finished speaking over his comm, beckoning his droid to meet with him, the two would lock eyes. The first time in a long time. Her smile had since faded and an The Jedi broke it with another smirk tugging the edge of her lips and another classic quip. Arms crossed, head tilted, she had noticed he was wearing the same frayed jacket that he had during their last encounter and remarked, “Same jacket?”

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

Crix connected his old XS-100 to the hydroexchange tube dangling from the ceiling. He disconnected from the bases electrical supply, allowing the ship to transfer to its internal power. The smuggler planned on jumping to hyperspace as soon as he broke atmosphere and with a ship this old it was better to warm up the power core a little before throwing that much stress at it. He was eager to get back to work. Of course, he wasn't just here for Leah. Almost everyone he knew was associated with the Rebellion in one way or another. Ayasha and Vu'thari were both Jedi, Raz and the Mandos were currently allied with them, hell, even Beau Prittchet had chastised him for not jumping at the opportunity way back when.

The memory brought a smile to the scoundrels face.

"Son, sometimes the most imposing situations are the ones we have to run toward, not from." The Gunslinger's Dantooine melodic draw replayed in his mind as he lowered the lift to the freight holding room.

Beau had a way of speaking that Crix admired. The gunslinger was a valued mentor to Crix and after checking to see no one was watching, he pulled his DH-7 and brandished the weapon with a flourish, spinning it backward and across his body, then back into his thigh holster. A small smirk resting on his face as he completed the flashy little maneuver. He'd picked up a lot from the gunslinger, and he knew he'd be applying the man's wisdom soon.

That conversation with Beau had culminated in Crix's being here. The older smuggler had fired him with a charismatic grin and then tossed him a blaster. Initially, the younger man had felt betrayed and abandoned, but as soon as he'd landed here on the force filled planet, he knew the older man was, once again, watching out for him.

Crix lowered the lift to the freight room and loaded up some foodstuff, only replacing what he needed. With his grunt work done Crix pulled his flask from his jacket pocket and took a quick swig before heading back to the main loading ramp. He lifted his Com and hailed Peetwo again making it halfway up the ramp before something stopped him.

"Peetwo," he started when a familiar presence pressed on his consciousness. He found himself releasing the comm and turning around, making his way back down the ramp without realizing it.

The scoundrel's brow creased in focus as he attempted to identify the newcomer. His expression shifted through several emotions before adopting his patented lopsided grin. He made it to the bottom of the loading ramp swaggering into position leaning against the side of his ship with his thumbs hooked into his gunbelt. His emerald green eyes met Leah's pale blues and Crix's smile broadened.

“Same jacket?” She asked, knowing full well it was the same jacket he'd been wearing when he'd met her.

Crix looked down at his trusty jacket with mock indignance.

"No, new jacket." He lied playfully.

Truthfully, the rugged bantha leather jacket had taken quite a beating in his most recent adventures. He'd patched up a blaster burn on his left shoulder from a stray bolt during a mission on Nar Shadaa. It's coloring had faded from the intense chemical makeup of Quesh, and was a few shades lighter, so while the same it had become new, much like it's owner. The scoundrel boasted a small scar under his right eye that rested on his cheekbone and stretched vertically down his face to the top of his chin. He'd acquired a few other bumps and bruises over the course of his adventures and like his jacket had undergone a transformation.

A million words filled his mind vying for his selection as excitement bubbled up inside him. He cleared his throat, pressing himself up off his ship, the scoundrel closed the space between them. His brow inclined as he gestured to the base around them, "Thought you'd be out of here already, Ambassador." He teased putting a little wry emphasis on her title.

Crix could sense the emotion brimming behind her smile, a typhoon of pain and turmoil roiled behind her small smirk. His heart broke for his friend and he decided to start out with why he'd come.

"I-- er, well, I guess, I'm uh, joining the cause." He said clearing his throat and crossing his arms across his chest as he settled in before Leah.

Telepathically, he said, Don't worry, I got you.

His words would be clear in the force, where they'd been awkward and uncertain aloud.

@Deviant

 

[Leah Reach]

She missed him. The adventures they shared were unforgettable. Memories of their first encounter, the flight from Azure Twilight, her battle royal with the captive Sith— they stuck with her. Unlike the proceedings with the Queen of the Noble Court, negotiations which sucked every ounce of patience out of the rebel ambassador, her stunts on Ord Mantell was meaningful. Maybe not to the Galactic Alliance, but to Leah, they were among the best moments since she lost her husband. They proved there was still some good worth fighting for. A future to reclaim. That there were people ready to believe in hope. People like Crix. He may have disappeared after their last meeting, but he was back and he was helping. Seeing and hearing him lightened her heavy heart.

One hand on her hip, she chuckled, bit back a smile and shook her head. Of course, she recognized it was the same jacket. Only older, more worn. Whatever the smuggler did, it was worth a good story or two, and Leah was all ears. Not that they had much time to polish up on old adventures. Rebel bases were evacuating. Her own transport was due for departure in minutes. They didn’t have much time together but she hoped to squeeze every second out like it was the last. Maybe it was. The Empire was coming for them. There was no guarantee the one-time escape would prevent the same situation circling back. But did they, did she, have to continue running from their problems? Crix understood, else he would have never returned to the Alliance. To the Jedi Master.

“Not yet.” She said and very nearly rolled her eyes as he referred to her as an ambassador. True, but for friends, unnecessary. “But soon.” Her gaze followed his gesture and observed the Old Temple. Most of the transports were in the air. All files were burned or transferred elsewhere. The main shield generator was hauled away. The rebel ambassador should have left hours ago, but she didn’t. Leah was too attached to the planet, the temple and the monastery, to leave just yet. Part of her wanted to wait long enough to see Imperial ships were pinned in the sky. She wanted to fight them tooth and nail for every nook and cranny. Tempting as it was, she couldn’t. Crix was right, she should have left.

Leah shifted awkwardly. She was never much good with reunions. But she was happy, more than before, especially at hearing the other man had decided to join the cause. Like a reflection, she crossed her arms too. “It took you long enough.” Another silent pause settled between them until she heard his voice. Faint but real. An echo in her skull. It seemed he learned a lot about the Force since they last spoke. At least, more than she thought. Registering his words, however, warmed her immediately. He repeated the same words she told him before. She remembered it like it was yesterday, just like everything else. Leah couldn’t help herself. A wide smile finally broke through and so did a deep sigh like she was releasing every emotion bottled up in the past hour.

She reached forward and hugged him. “Thank you.” She whispered over his shoulder. Holding the embrace for not a second too long, Leah slid back. She hoped she hadn’t made things more awkward than they should, but took the smuggler’s hand with newfound feeling. Forget the fact they were on a time crunch. She wanted to know what he had been up to. “I’m so glad you finally came around, but where did you go? What made you come back?”

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

Susan marched around the old temple for the final time. She'd spent the remainder of the day being sure the work she'd made Crix do helped the passenger transports get off the ground as quickly as possible. She'd also been sure to secure space for all droids she came across. Being sure that none of her kind was left behind on the base. Behind her the hum and whistle of Peter, a piloting droid who'd taken a liking to her, followed in her wake.

The little droid insisted that he was Crix's partner, not his droid. Susan would believe the little guy when she saw it. The bi-pedal droid moved with a mechanical clipped gait as she came to the end of her final patrol. She stopped and cocked her head to the side, why was there still a transport here?

Peter whistled low attempting to push blame onto something obvious, but Susan knew who'd be at the root of this trouble. That dastardly handsome scoundrel was undoubtedly to blame. To confirm her suspicions, the Council member approached the Lieutenant Dodanna, asking in her overly harsh tone, "Lieutenant, why is this transport still here?"

The Rebel bristled under Susan's unfaltering gaze, mumbling out some excuse about Ambassador Reach. She knew it. Peter warbled a worried little coo. Susan ignored the little droid turning from the Lieutenant with a curt nod, and heading toward the hanger. There was no time for pleasantries and she'd be damned if that handsome smuggler was going to lead her on and then prey upon the poor Ambassador. This Crix really was the worst.

Susan set off with purpose forcing Peter to burn tried to keep up with her.

♢♢♢​

“It took you long enough.” Leah teased mimicking his stance as she did. Crix waited suspended between belief and disbelief, she'd heard him. In all the training he'd done with Ayasha, he'd always been able to hear her, but she'd only very faintly been able to hear him. But now, there was no doubt about it. Initially, Leah was shocked, a small proud smirk played on Crix's lips as his words reached her.

Leah smiled, and all of his hesitations were washed away. She wrapped him in a hug and he bristled slightly, before briefly returning the embrace. He still wasn't good at physical contact, but he as doing better.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"No need." He said softly, squeezing her tightly for a just a moment before reluctantly releasing the embrace. To his surprise, she kept ahold of one of his hands and Crix gave hers an affectionate squeeze. Reveling in the moment he'd dreaded for so long. Positive that when they were finally reunited she'd have written him off. Leah broke the silence, and he was thankful because he would have stayed there forever, afraid to ruin its perfection.

Crix chuckled surveying the area, "I don't think we've got that kind of--" He started before he was cut off.

"JUST WHO IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?" Bellowed Susan as she stalked toward Crix. Unconsciously the smuggler attempted to hide behind Leah.

"I CAN STILL SEE YOU, YOU FILTHY PHILANDERER!"

Crix, now, actually offended, inclined his furrowed brow gesturing to himself mouthing, "Me?!"

The Smuggler found himself at a loss for words as the Droid closed in continuing to hurl insults in his direction. He spotted Peetwo trailing behind her looking like he was really sorry about all this. As soon as The Scoundrel spotted his little buddy he called out over the droid on a warpath and rushed to the piloting droid's side. Susan was stopped in her tracks, staring at the pilot who was talking to his droid like it was a crewmember.

Susan looked at Leah asking, "Is he always like this?"

Deciding to let the scruffy smuggler off the hook this ONE time Susan turned her attention to the ambassador.

"Times up. We need to go." The droid stated plainly. Seeing an opportunity Crix, rolled the dice.

"Oh, that's what we were just discussing, Susan. I'm one of Leah's spies. As a matter of fact, in order to be fully--uh, briefed-- on my ultra classified mission I was about to suggest the Ambassador join me aboard, The Highwind." He gestured toward his light freighter.

Deciding she couldn't trust Crix as far as she could throw him Susan turned to Leah, "Is this true? Is this dashing smuggler a spy under your command?" The sarcasm in her voice modulator was impressively human and Crix knew he was sunk.

Crix flashed Leah a little, had to try, shrug and smile. He placed an affectionate hand on Peetwo's dome. He allowed himself one more glance in Leah's direction, knowing their time was nearing its end. Through the force he said, Co-pilot's seat is still set to your liking, he teased attempting to sweeten the pot.

@Deviant

 

[Leah Reach]

Before Crix could answer, Leah heard the resounding echo of the droid councilor she came to dread. Susan swayed side to side, expressive and dramatic in every way possible, as she marched towards the pair. She was incapable of any facial expression but the Jedi Master could feel her single eye drilling into the skull of the smugger beside her. Or behind her, unnerved by the droid’s presence. She couldn’t blame him. Susan was never known to be the receptive type. She was not on good terms. In general. With anyone. That was only the way she was, and Leah had grown accustomed to it. Crix? Not so much. Exchanging one shield for another, this time in the shape of his mechanical co-pilot, she watched the young man try to sidestep Susan’s onslaught of insults.

As he did, the droid smuggler rolled her eye and fixed an agitated look on the Jedi. Leah shrugged and smiled. “Sometimes.” A muffled, electric groan followed. She didn’t bother to push further and instead moved to the meat of the matter: it was time to leave. Almost all transports were gone. The Old Temple was stripped bare and hauled out to faraway worlds untouched and unknown to the Empire. The Jedi monastery was cleared and each relic stored away in her own shuttle. Leah was only delaying the inevitable by speaking with Crix. Susan saw straight through it. Perhaps not all the way, given her awkward, newfound perception of the pair, but enough to finish what was started. The evacuation. The rebel ambassador was about ready to say her final goodbye before Crix risked another word.

Leah raised an eyebrow. In her imagination, so did Susan. Except she added a dash of biting sarcasm to the mix, much to the hidden disappointment of the smuggler. The Jedi stifled a laugh. Crix was not a spy. In fact, if he was an agent of Rebel Intelligence, she had no doubt he would be the worst one yet. The man was crafty and resourceful but he was anything but careful and discreet. He had to be wanted in at least a dozen systems. Then again, Leah couldn’t judge. Thanks to her work on Ord Mantell and Nar Shaddaa, she was as wanted as he. However, she was interested to see where Crix was going with it. If he wanted the two to leave aboard his rust bucket, she was unsure. The others were waiting for her. All of her personal belongings, relics or records, were still on her transport. Could she really trust her subordinates to handle them?

She chuckled in her mind. Of course they could. Leah had not seen Crix in forever, and she could not pass up the opportunity to catch up with him. Neither did she want to risk seeing him off, back to whatever he did before. The Jedi side of her hoped to reel him back in and teach him more about the ways of the Force. But the other side of her? The woman who enjoyed their adventures, the snarky comments and the bizarre encounters? She couldn’t resist. Biting back a smile, Leah nodded to B1-TH. “Cool your circuits, Susan. It’s fine, he’s only one of my agents.” She glanced over to him. “And an old friend.” Back to Susan. “Don’t worry, you can go on ahead. We will meet you at the rendezvous point.”

The droid smuggler grunted, dissatisfied. “Whatever.” Twirling her metal skull, she waltzed back to the last transport. Leah caught a few murmurs as she did. “Cool my circuits? As if. What is she, my organic overlord?” The rebel ambassador chuckled and shared a relieved look with Crix. Now that Susan was out of their hair, they could finally breath free. “At a ninety-five degree angle, one foot back, headrest three inches up?” She said with the most serious face she could manage, certain Crix caught absolutely none of what she said. “I’m messing with you. Come on. Don’t we have to talk about your ultra-classified mission briefing?” She bumped the man on the shoulder with one hand, chuckling, and patted the top of Peetwo’s head as she slid up the landing ramp.

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

The Gambler watched as the cards began to fall. It was clear to him that Susan didn't believe him, nor should she, after all his little ploy hadn't been for the droid. Subtlety had never been his strong point, but over the past few months he'd picked up a little neuance from Beau Pritchett, and now he had to see how far it'd go. The Robo-overlord turned her unflinching gaze on Leah and began to question his claim. He pouted a jokingly as she attempted to stifle a laugh. That's when he saw it.

“Cool your circuits, Susan." She started, stopping the other in their tracks. Crix couldn't believe it. He-- he was shook. "It’s fine, he’s only one of my agents.” Leah was going along with it. He wiped the dumbstruck expression off his face and averted his gaze down to Peetwo's dome. The droid could sense his stare and after a moment looked up at him and chittered quizzically. The Smuggler snapped out of it and caught the tail end of Susan's dismissal. “Don’t worry, you can go on ahead. We will meet you at the rendezvous point.”

Crix inclined a single challenging eyebrow at the glowering metallic cyclops. He looked over at Leah and said, "Ya know what, I think she likes me." He chuckled as Leah express the relief they both felt. Peetwo watched Susan leave mournfully. He started after her for a second, but stopped, turned around and then made for the ship. Crix wasn't sure how, but it looked little guy was depressed.

Great... I'm gonna have to upgrade the shit out of that little guy.

Distracted, by thought Crix missed Leah's perfect settings, but there was a pretty good chance her settings were still intact. The Smuggler didn't have many guests, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd sat in that chair. He laughed taking the jab and followed her up the ramp and into his ship. He lifted the ramp behind them and made for the cockpit.

The Smuggler slipped into his captains and brought the light freighter to life. He exited the hanger and then made for space. The ship climbed arcing away from the Old Temple. He leveled out and swung around in a wide arc, tilting their view toward the abandoned facility and circling it. The last remaining transports lifted off heading for space and then it was just the temple standing stoic and resolute against the horizon. Crix committed the sight to memory. Even though he'd only been here for a short time, the temple would always be the place where he was reborn.

With a final pass, he angled his trajectory into the wild blue and made for space. He glanced over to Leah and then reached out placing a gentle hand on her arm. This place had meant something to her and he sympathised. Crix knew he couldn't begin to understand her hurt, but when she was ready he'd help however he could.

Peetwo broke the small gesture as he slid between the two and connected to the ship's console. The piloting droid began running the calculations for a quick jump to hyperspace. The Highwind passed through the atmosphere of Al'doleem. Crix swung around to face the planet as he changed the ship's engines to Sublight, taking one last look at the planet before angling toward space. Crix gave the signal and the starscape before them elongated, then burst into the mottled blue miasma of hyperspace.

The Smuggler stood, stretched, and said, "I'm turning it over to you buddy." Peetwoo whistled an affirmative and to Leah asked, "Lounge?"

The Rambler's wet bar was a hobby he maintained. Every time he went to a new planet he bought a bottle as a little commemoration of a new discovery. It was a dumb enthusiasm, but it has led to a robustly diverse selection of alcohol rivaling that of swanky Corescant cocktail bar. Crix took the flask out of his pocket and set it on the bar. He reached into the fridge and plucked a large ice cube from a tray. He placed it in a rocks glass and then poured a double Corellian Rye over the cube. He'd offer Leah full reign over the bar and then take a seat at the booth nearby.

"How you holding up?" He smiled warmly at her before taking a sip of his drink.

@Deviant

 

[Leah Reach]

“Oh yeah, I could tell.” Leah said to the smuggler as she climbed into his ship. Despite being a wreck of rusted bolts and metal plating, everything felt organic. Naturally and pleasantly familiar. She was aboard the Highwind only once but walking the narrow halls, watching the dashboard and hearing the whirr of the engines made her feel right at home. The rebel ambassador was back on another adventure. Off to trackless dunes, soaring forests, mobbed cities. Except, she wasn’t. As she settled in the same seat, untouched and unchanged since the last time, her eyes could not help but wander back to the Old Temple. Even when the light freighter lifted into the sky, cruised above the lush canopies and into the clouds, it was hard to forget.

Part of her was glad to be free of it. There, she bickered with Hugo, thrashed Valentine, exiled Aurora. A lot of the memories on Al’doleem were never so kind, but there were a few that shined through. Back at the monastery, where she first visited with her husband. Or when she trained her students, hiding from Master Blackwood after Asha unwittingly slashed through the oldest, wisest tree on the planet with her brand new lightsaber. Warm laughter and heartfelt moments were shared. Only days, weeks, months ago. Yet the next moment, they were leaving. Left to bury those memories along with the rest of the temple, because Leah knew the Empire would bomb it into the bedrock. Like Dantooine. At least today, they could avoid the worst.

That didn’t mean they would escape without a single casualty. A skeleton crew, all volunteers, were left behind to man Home Base until the very last moment. Last minute checks, setting traps, showing the Empire they would not so easily cave into the darkness. Every rebel left behind would fight to the last breath. Make one man feel like one hundred. They would give the Sith hell if they wanted to occupy the Old Temple. Those that died might also trick the invading force that they had struck the last of the rebels, becoming the smoke screen the Alliance so desperately needed. It was a noble sacrifice, one that would be honored to the ends of the Rebellion. Hugo said they would be made heroes. But for Leah? Dead heroes.

She felt Crix hand on her arm. A rare comfort to find in such trying times. Leah moved her focus away from the Old Temple, perhaps for the last time, and mustered a reassuring smile. “I’m all right.” She whispered and kept her eyes ahead. The Alliance would survive and that was all that mattered. They could carry the spark of hope to the rest of the Outer-Rim, reignite the fires of rebellion and watch the Empire burn in retaliation. But what they might do after and how was a question for later. Now, it was time to rest. Busy her mind with anything other than the past or the future. For the Smuggler, it was drinking, and Leah was happy to oblige. As the stars blurred into the panorama of hyperspace, she slid out of her seat and followed Crix into the lounge.

She loitered around the cabin before, so she knew a thing or two about his bar and the collection of drinks in his possession. The largest one she knew. Not that the wide selection was the reason for her interest, just a particular drink. White wine from Alderaan, opened from the last time but untouched since Leah left it inside the cooler. Half-empty but welcome nonetheless. Already tucked away in the booth, she raised a hand, plucked the wine out of the fridge and pulled it toward her. As tempting as it was to drink straight from the bottle, the rebel ambassador took her own empty glass. Not wanting to dilute the wine any further, she filled the glass to the brink and drank as Crix did.

“I’m holding up fine.” She answered, more relaxed than before but not knowing if it was for the better. Initially reluctant, she continued, “I just wonder sometimes why this happens.” Vague, she shrugged. “All is as the Force wills it, but it’s hard to believe when you think about all that’s happened. Five hundred years of Sith oppression. Losing our homes, lives, friends and family. Nothing’s really changed. And some nights, I fear that this is what the Force really wants. Another century of the subjugation.” She glanced away from her drink, realizing Leah had seriously overstepped herself. Quickly, before he could answer, she interjected, “I’m sorry, that was a little much.” She offered an awkward chuckle and tried to move on.

“You know, you never answered me earlier, but... what made you come back?”

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

“Right,” he remarked with a skeptical arch of his brow. Leah said she was fine but there was clearly a lot on her mind. He let her continue at her own pace. Listening and keeping his mind open. He seriously doubted he'd be able to offer any real insight into her current predicament, but he'd help her in any way he could manage.

Leah let loose with all her worries. The Ambassador questioned the unfairness of their predicament. There was a vulnerability about her he'd not seen before and treated her words with the respect they deserved. The Scoundrel watched her carefully, as she apologized and he responded with a warm chuckle and a wave of his hand.

“I can handle your worries," He smiled taking a sip of his drink. "I’m here if you want to talk. I hope you know anything you say on this ship stays on the ship.” He flashed her a warm smile. She seemed to appreciate his gesture but still shifted the conversation in his direction.

The Scoundrel took another sip of his rye buying himself some time as he considered her question. There were a number of reasons he’d come back. No matter where he went or what he did, The Outlaw found himself helping or working with the Alliance. Two of the three jobs he’d done in the Hutta sector, since leaving Kashyyyk, had been with the Alliance. The Smuggler felt connected to the alliance whether he wanted to be or not, and rather than constantly trying to fight the inevitable, he'd decided to join. Aside from work, there was this pesky Force connection he needed to get sorted. Crix was finally ready to address the mysterious power within and discover who he really was. But even with those factors considered the real thing that had brought him back was the promise he'd made her on Savareen.

The Scoundrel’s gaze met with hers and he replied, “I had a promise to keep."

Ultimately, she was the reason he was here. Had they never met, he'd probably be on Tattooine with Beau and the gang. Running cons and smuggling, but Crix had found a passion for helping people along his prodigal adventures. He'd connected with some of the people he'd helped escape imprisonment on Makeb and knowing he was helping others was something he'd not expected to enjoy as much as he did. Of course, he'd never admit that.

Crix gave her a small shrug adding, "I'm mean, that and the food." He joked.

The Scoundrel took the opportunity to turn the conversation back to her asking, "So, did you miss me? It must have been pretty boring without me around to screw things up."

The levity in his voice would be apparent. On his ship with an old friend, Crix wasn't exactly concerned with maintaining appearances. He was comfortable around her and he hoped she felt the same.

@Deviant

 

[Leah Reach]

“Oh, please. The food isn’t that good.” She said, laughing, the lightness of her own voice rising. Truly, Leah was glad to have Crix back.

He could have walked away. There was so much more he could have done rather than rejoin the Rebellion and throw his life on the line after a single adventure with a single woman. With his feet off Ord Mantell, he could have continued his smuggling days. Started a crew, carved up a legacy of his own. Rather than follow the path he might have wanted, he pursued the destiny the galaxy needed. By returning, Crix showed he was ready to take on the Sith and the tenants of the Jedi she hoped he would one day join. Leah wanted to scream or cry with joy, but the best she managed was a smile. Comforting, grateful, happy. More than she ever was since the trial, exile and evacuation. Although Crix was there to listen, Leah was content enough just by having him at her side.

Head tilted back at him, she chuckled and rolled her eyes. Jokingly, she slapped his shoulder. “Oh, don’t say that.” Her smile grew wide. “Even if it is a little true.” Her eyes drifted back to him. They always did. “But, yes. I’ll admit, I missed you. A little. It’s not everyday you’re saved by a random stranger in the middle of a firefight between two rival gangs.” She shrugged. “Neither is fighting a Sith in the back of a rust bucket swerving through the junkyards of Ord Mantell.” Of course, stranger things have happened. Then again, they hadn’t been half the fun or thrill that she experienced with Crix. The memory had found a special place in her heart, and so did the odd but charming smuggler that accompanied her throughout it.

She crossed her arms and raised a brow. “If I didn’t miss you, do you think I really would have blew off Susan to join you?” Another chuckle passed her lips, as did the sarcasm of her words. “You’re a good friend, Crix. In spite of everything that’s happened, I’m glad to be here. With you.” While her smile remained, her gaze dipped. Indeed, she was happy to be reunited with the smuggler, but there was still no escaping what happened back on Al’doleem, even on the opposite side of the galaxy. That weighed on her, but the weight was lighter with Crix by her side. However, the Jedi Master was unwilling to tell him. She didn’t want to taint their reunion with her own lingering doubts or regrets. She didn’t want to expose herself as the very thing she hoped Crix wouldn’t see her as: a sham.

Smile growing thinner, but enough to be reassuring, she eyed the smuggler after a long, awkward pause. “Sorry.” A lighter chuckle now. “All this talk about the Jedi and the evacuations have left me drained. I’m going to catch some sleep, alright?” She patted the man on the shoulder, hoping it would convince him not to press on. The last thing Leah wanted was to explain herself. “You probably should too. It’s going to be a long ride ahead.” With another excuse, she rose out of the booth, even if she had only just sat there minutes ago. As she walked out of the lounge, she stopped at the corner, hand on the curved wall. “Thank you, by the way, Crix. For everything.” With that last show of gratitude, she turned the corner and left for the crew quarters.

There was much to think, contemplate and meditate about. The future of the Rebellion and the Jedi Order depended on what the Jedi Master would do next. Leah needed to be certain.

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan (TL8)]

As she slapped his shoulder he gave her a chastised pouty lip and playfully held his accosted shoulder. But of course, he was playing. It felt good to be back in her presence, hell it felt good to just kid around for a minute with someone he cared about. The Scoundrel took any chance he could to steal a glance in her direction. His normal guard was lowered and his goofy, awkward personality took center stage as they fell into the familiar banter of close friends.

"Oh yeah, just a little? Well, now I'm hurt" He teased sipping the rye in his cup. Even as she spoke, he could feel the weight looming over her, and his heart broke for her. Sure, his life had been bad, he'd grown up alone and without a lot of basics that most people take for granted, but starting from nothing was a lot easier than having everything and then being forced to start over.

"Random stranger? I think I prefer, chosen one." He chuckled, fondly remembering their adventure, "Oh, Beau and Mal, the pair we met in the cantina? Yeah, they gave me the whole lay down on that situation. If you're nice to me, maybe I'll tell you." A smile played on his lips as he drank in her visage. For a brief moment, their eyes met and he smiled looking away. He was just a friend... He needed to get that through his thick head.

Crix nearly spit his drink out when Leah asked if he really thought she'd ditch Susan for him. "Oh, are you two close?" He asked actually curious. "Honestly, I thought you came with me to avoid her." He said with a laugh adding too her obvious sarcasm.

Suddenly, her expression faltered slightly and he could tell the strain of the evacuation had taken its toll. He knew this moment was coming to a close and even though they'd only just arrived, he'd respect her wishes. In the short time, they'd known one another Leah had managed to do something few others in the galaxy had managed, she'd earned his trust. The anxiety of not belonging fell away the moment she'd welcomed him as a friend.

“Thank you, by the way, Crix. For everything.”

Crix bobbed his head in acknowledgment, "Fine, you can take the wine. No need to be all gushy." He blurted out probably ruining the moment. Trying to hide his unexpected bashfulness he rolled his eyes and looked away waving his hand at her.

As she reached the corner he said, "Thanks for remembering me." His voice was small but loud enough for her to hear. It might have been a strange thing for her to hear, but when you didn't have anyone being a memory was all you had. The Smuggler was glad they shared an adventure, and he hoped they'd go on more like it. The Jedi Master disappeared around the corner and as she did, Crix slumped forward in the booth.

The Smuggler's chest felt like it was on fire. Beads of sweat broke out across his brow as his jaw set in a firm grimace. He hadn't suffered and attack like this in weeks. His body shook as he attempted to stifle the waves of agony that wracked him.

"Really... now?" He said through clenched teeth as he tried to focus on his breathing. With great effort, he couldn't let her see him like this. Digging deep Crix managed to push himself up from the table and to stumble into his quarters. He closed the door behind him and collapsed. Sweat poured from his body as the pain in his chest got worse.

Crix desperately fumbled with his jacket's zipper, his hands were shaking and feeble. He eased the mechanism down and painfully slid out of his jacket. His faded tunic was pitch black from sweat as it clung to his body. Every muscle in the man's body felt as though it were being ripped from the bone... Still engrossed in agony and sweat, he mustered the last of his strength and pulled his tunic off. His slick back lay on the cold floor of the ship. His chest heaved with effort as he sucked in air in an attempt to douse the burning in his chest, but nothing worked. He pulled himself to the side of his bed and pulled the lightsaber from his fated adventure with Leah out of a hidden compartment.

He clutched the weapon focusing on the feel of the cool metal in his slick hand. Visions of his childhood swam before his eyes. A looming figure clad in dark robes. An extended hand. Flashes of purple light. Incomprehensible pain.

Crix's panicked gaze refused to look away from the ceiling. He held the saber over his chest as if trying to hide the truth from himself. He tried to call the force to his aid. He begged for relief, but couldn't maintain his focus under the intense agony radiating from his branded chest. Reluctantly his gaze slowly, tentatively moved to his chest. Tendrils of blackened veins and discolored flesh mottled his bare chest. He lifted a quivering hand from the lightsaber and placed it gently palpated the corrupted area. The cold touch of his diaphoretic hand stung his raw wounded chest. The pain ebbed with greater intensity and The Smuggler lost consciousness.

A few hours later he came too. His eyes were irritated, red, and blurry. Peetwo, was next to him and as The Smuggler began to move, the little droid cooed reassuringly. They'd been through this a lot over the past few months. Crix looked toward his astromech with an apologetic expression and then hung his head. He'd hoped this was over, but apparently... it was just the beginning.

End Arc.​

Spoiler: DON'T YOU JUDGE ME

@Deviant I couldn't not reply. I'm weak. T-T
p.s. thanks, this has been my favorite arc in a loooooong time.