An Invitation
Steven had always hated cantinas. Too much noise and too many people talking about things he had no interest in. He hovered behind Layla as she walked up to the bar and ordered a drink.
“What are you having?” The bartender directed at Steven.
“Um…” He wasn’t sure he liked to drink, even in a social setting. I do. “Same as her, please.”
Layla was scanning the room, trying to decide who to talk with first. “You wait by that table for me.” She said softly. There was a man, not dressed in Tarisian fashions, sitting alone with a drink, looking sulky.
“Can’t I stay by you?” He asked uncomfortably.
“It’s easier to talk to idiots if I’m a lone woman.”
That made sense. A little regretfully, Steven went to lean against the wall and try his drink. It was sweet and a little bubbly, making him wrinkle his nose as the back of his throat stung a little from the carbonation. Too sweet. No, he liked it. He’d have to ask Layla what the hell he’d ordered while copying her.
He watched the different customers, listened to the music from the live performers, drifting into the main space and savored his drink. He could see Layla, her bright smile directed at the man she’d sat by. She looked so friendly, but he felt like he was watching a cat cornering some small insect, even from here.
“Hey! Where are those drinks we ordered?!” He started at a shrill voice, but didn’t look around, since it couldn’t have been directed at him. “I’m talking to you!” That was much closer and he raised his eyes to see a woman, dressed better than the people he’d seen on the street. Anger had given her a pinched expression, like something important was hurting.
“What?”
“I said: where are our drinks? God, the service here is awful.” She looked him over, ignoring the half drunk cocktail that signaled he really was not a waiter. “Where did you get your clothes? A lower city trash compactor?”
“I’m not your waiter.” Steven said with a frown. Why did his clothes matter? He wasn’t wearing them for food prep and they’d held up quite well, considering the battle, crash landing and not being washed in a few days.
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Incompetent! I know who we ordered from.” Steven bit back the grumpy reply that she clearly did not. “One word from my daddy and you’ll be out of a job!”
“I don’t even work here!” He couldn’t help but snap. It had been an emotionally taxing day. “Sorry, but you-”
“Too late for apologies now! Daddy’s going to hear about this and you’ll lose your job for sure!” She walked right out of the cantina, abandoning her friends who were waiting for drinks in the booth.
Spoiled brat.Bit old to be running to her dad, aint she? He thought to himself. Maybe he isn’t that kind of dad. Steven groaned at that thought. Could’ve gone all day without that one. At least he didn’t have to worry about being fired from a job he did not have on a planet he was trying to leave.
He heard someone laughing close by and looked up to see a pretty young woman watching him with her hand over her mouth. She must’ve seen his ‘customer service’ interaction. He waved to her awkwardly and went to sit at her table. Layla was still busy and his legs were getting tired. The woman seemed surprised.
“Oh- Most people don’t usually talk to me here.” She sat back, watching him. Her amusement was now clouded by wariness.
“Why not?” He was surprised. As Layla was demonstrating on the other side of the room, this was the kind of place people came to mingle.
“Well, I’m not really here to talk.” She said quickly, as if to assure him that she was sitting alone by choice. “I’m just here to relax before my next shift from the military base.”
“You’re from the base? You don’t look like a Sith.” He was used to seeing the gray uniforms and shiny black armor out on the streets.
She frowned at that. “And what does that mean? How do you think Sith look?”
Steven was quick to raise his hands, palms out. “I’m not trying to judge you. I meant the uniforms, not… not your overall appearance.” He flushed slightly, feeling stupid.
“We’re not supposed to wear our uniforms off duty.” She shrugged, her face relaxing. “Didn’t mean to get all defensive there.” She held out a hand. “I’m Dylan.”
“Steven. With a ‘V,’” He smiled and took her hand. Some part of him cringed. Nice job, introducing yourself by name when you’re supposed to be hiding. He ignored that thought; nobody would know his name in order for it to be a give away of any kind.
“It’s just, I get so tired of you Tarisians glaring at me everywhere I go.” She grumbled.
“Oh, I’m not Tarisian.” He told her. Truths always came out of his mouth too easily.
“An offworlder? I’d have thought you’d be even more upset, being stuck here with the quarantine.” Fortunately, she hadn’t made the connection between ‘off worlder’ and ‘Republic fugitive.’
“You’re just doing your job. Small cog, big engine and all that.” He told her.
Her eyes softened. “I’m glad someone sees it that way.”
Steven’s smile became a little more sure. “I try to think positively about people. They usually don’t prove me wrong.” That you remember.
Dylan’s mouth twitched, but she didn’t disagree. “I guess thinking positive is key during these… Interesting times.” Her wrist com beeped and she looked down with a sigh. “I should get going. My shift starts soon.” She paused. “You know, some of the junior officers, including me, are meeting up for a party right after our shift. I’d like to see you there. It’d be nice to have a new face to unwind with.” Steven’s eyebrows shot up, his look of genuine surprise banishing any misgivings Dylan had about his intentions chatting up a Sith officer.
“I don’t go to parties so often-” Say yes, dork. “-but I’d love to go.” He stammered.
“Okay, just let me write down the address for you…” She gave him a scrap of paper with the address of an apartment in the upper city. “See you soon, Steven.” And she left with a wink.
By the time he’d finished his drink, Layla was back, looking pleased. “I got an invite to a party! He let slip that they probably won’t have time to lock up their uniforms. You can follow me and wait outside-”
“I got an invite too!” Steven said, a little proudly. “I foresee two Sith uniforms for us.”
Layla snorted, nodding. “Let’s go back to the hideout. He said their shifts are a couple hours long, so I want to be off the streets till it’s time to start walking.”
***
Back in the apartment, they ate a ration bar each and Layla checked over her weapons while Steven gave his blaster a cursory once over. He was still trying not to think about having killed two men, however necessary it might have been. He was trying not to think about the Endar Spire in general.
“Can I ask you something? I’ve been going over the battle of the Endar Spire in my head over and over and some things just don’t add up. Could you tell me about what happened from your perspective?” As if he’d summoned it, the topic he wanted to avoid most was her new focus.
“I didn’t really know what was going on… I was actually sleeping when it started.” Slept through a large part of it, really , he admitted to himself. The ship had been overrun by the time Trask came to find him.
“Hm… Well, I’m just surprised any of us survived that ambush.” She let that hang in the air for a moment. “More than a little surprising that you happened to be one.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s a bit strange that someone added to the crew at the last minute is one of the survivors, isn’t it?”
I was added at the last minute? He couldn’t remember, not really. He just knew he’d been assigned to work on the ship, not who had told him so or when it had happened. That was an uncomfortable realization and he was quick to steer away from it.
“Would you rather I wasn’t here?” He hated how pathetic the question sounded in his voice.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I’m glad you’re alive and I’m not doing this alone. It’s just weird that you… well…”
He knew what she was saying and she wasn’t exactly wrong, but it still stung. “If you must know, my bunkmate is the reason I got out!” He couldn’t help the distress in his voice or the way it rose in his agitation. The guilt that had made its home in his belly was roiling, leaving a bitter taste in mouth. “He got me out of the barracks, past the soldiers and then he locked me out when a Dark Jedi showed up and he *died* so now you’re stuck with me.” He was gripping his own wrist so tightly that his knuckles had gone white and his body shook with the tension.
Layla was shocked, her eyes flickering with pity. Embarrassment for his outburst fought with survivor’s guilt for control of Steven’s emotions and his eyes felt too warm. Do NOT cry right now! He snapped at himself. “You… you know we’re on the same side, right?” He finished, a little lamely. He forced his grip on himself to loosen a little.
“Steven… I’m sorry.” She shouldn’t be. It’s my own fault I’m upset. “This isn’t about you personally. A lot has happened that I need to figure out and… I don’t trust easily. For good reason.” Her tone was gentle, but her face resolute. “Getting enough information about the people I work with is important. It helps me avoid… surprises.”
“Well- well how do I know I can trust you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Why should I trust you?” He was being petty, he knew, but he didn’t want to back down just yet.
“You shouldn’t.” It was not the answer he’d expected. “Not me, not Konshu if- when we find him and especially not yourself.”
Let's not go that far.Right, if you can’t trust yourself, who can you trust?
“If- if you say so, I guess.” Steven hunched his shoulders, eyes on the dirty floor.
“It really isn’t personal.” She said again. He must be looking really pathetic… “Do you have any questions for me?” It was a verbal peace offering and he knew it.
“O-okay. Sure. Uh- I guess I just want to know more about you?” He didn’t really have any important questions, but he was curious. Upset as he was, during their short acquaintance, he’d grown to admire her quite a bit. Any interest in her and her past was not exactly based in suspicion.
“You know I’m a star-pilot for the Republic. I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before all this started. I saw a lot then, but nothing like the slaughter these Sith animals engage in. They’re beyond senseless.” She passed a hand over her eyes. “My home world was one of the first planets to fall to Spector’s fleet. The Sith bombed it all to rubble and there wasn’t a damn thing we Republic forces could do to stop it.” Her voice shook slightly, not with sorrow but with rage.
He hadn’t meant to remind her of something bad! She brought it up.Hush! “I’m sorry Layla. That must be really painful…” He meant it. He’d never experienced such a loss and couldn’t imagine how it felt.
“I’m just… just a soldier; I go where I’m told, do my duty and I get angry- Just because I did that doesn’t mean I failed them. I didn’t!”
“Them? The people from your planet?” He should let this go. He was just upsetting her more, but he wanted to understand her point of view.
“Yes. No, I mean… This isn’t making sense. I don’t-”
“We don’t have to talk about it anymore.” Steven says quickly. She’d backed off for him. It was only polite that he do the same now that she was distressed.
“Right.” She checked her data pad. “I just remembered, I have to grab something from the medical center before we go to the party.”
“Medical center? Are you hurt?” He asked worriedly.
“No. But there’s an over the counter drug that could help put the other party goers to sleep if they take it with alcohol.”
Steven’s mouth opened, about to protest before mentally kicking himself. It was a good plan and would avoid any violence. He should be happy about that. “Right. I… didn’t know that.”
“Hm. Well, now you’ll know what to look out for at a party. If your drink ever smells like Dransil, pour it on whoever gave it to you.” She said absently, rising and heading to the door.
“I just love learning new things.” Steven muttered, gratified to see her smile at his tone before her back was to him. She must not be too mad he’d brought up bad memories, if she could still smile at his attempted sarcasm.
***
Steven didn’t like medical facilities. He wasn’t sure why, but the smell and atmosphere always made a knot of anxiety tighten under his heart. It looked crowded inside too, people waiting to buy and waiting to be seen. He was happy to let Layla go in alone and get the medicine with the 8 different warnings in multiple languages against mixing it with alcohol.
He waited in an alcove, finally taking the time to think over something that had been troubling him since the unpleasant conversation with Layla. She said he’d been added at the last minute. How did she know that when he didn’t? Why had he been specially requested and why did he not remember their overall mission? If he’d been requested by the Jedi, he must be working on their mission, but-
“There he is! The one who was rude to me!” Oh no. He knew that voice, even if he’d only heard it twice. It set his teeth on edge.
“I’m telling you, lady, I’m not a damn waiter!” He snapped. He’d been thinking about something important there and now the thoughts were all scattered again. He regretted being rude instantly as a tough looking alien grabbed him by the jacket. He caught a glimpse of the woman from the bar smirking, opened his mouth to yell for Layla and-
What the hell did you just do?
Aren’t you supposed to be resting? Let me deal with this.
We’re promised we’d-
You want me to just let him- us- get our collective asses kicked every time someone isn’t here to look out for him?
That’s not the point! He’s gonna notice.
He never does. Just fill in the blank and go back to sleep. I’m looking out for us.
-Steven is leaning in a different alcove. Who knew explaining he didn’t work on Taris again would work? Guess the third time’s the charm .
***
Layla watched from behind the door to the medical facility, chewing her lip thoughtfully. Steven was usually a bit uncoordinated, trailing after her like a lost puppy through the streets of Taris, having to look at his feet to avoid tripping. The few times they’d spoken to people as a pair, he’d all but hid behind her. He never held himself with the confidence she saw now.
She’d been about to come to his aid, naturally, when he’d been grabbed as she first left the medical center, but then Steven had grabbed his assailant’s wrist, twisted free and, without hesitation, drove his elbow right down onto their arm. The hired thug howled, his forearm now at a horribly wrong angle. Smooth as butter, Steven shoved him to one side and punched his second enemy, a human, in the face, breaking his nose.
The human woman, a Tarisian noble by her look, squeaked in alarm when his head turned her. He said something, too soft for Layla to hear at this distance, and the woman ran. The man with the broken nose grabbed his agonized comrade and they stumbled after her. Steven watched them go, shoulders straight and arms hanging relaxed at his side rather than the usual nervous fiddling with his clothing. There was a pause, then he shook out the hand he’d used to punch his assailant and went to lean in a different alcove. In an instant, his face regained that worried look, his shoulder hunching and hands coming up to tug at the collar of his jacket.
She’d lingered too long. People were noticing her behind the door. Layla schooled her face into its usual, relaxed smile and went to join Steven. He lit up when he saw her, just like when she’d come back to him at the cantina.
“Did they have what you needed?”
“Yeah. Are you okay?”
“What?” He looked genuinely confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“That woman and her… friends didn’t seem happy with you.”
“Oh, she was just grumpy about a misunderstanding earlier today. She got the message this time, I think.” He laughed lightly. “I don’t think I’d make a very good waiter anyway. Always dropping things, me.”
“Well… that’s good then.” She said slowly, brows knitting. She wanted to discuss this more, but they couldn’t risk being too late to the party to add something extra to the drinks.
***
This apartment block, on the other side of the city district, was much nicer than the one Layla had found for them to hide out in. There were no aliens living here illegally. Everyone they passed was human and Steven thought to himself that this wouldn't last. Such social divides breed conflict. You’d think the Tarisians would learn that from their own history. He was glad they’d be off Taris when that boiled over.
Layla rang the doorbell of the apartment, smiling at the man who opened the door. “Hello again! Hope we’re not too late for the party.”
“Of course not!” It was the man from the bar. His welcoming smile faltered slightly when he saw Steven. “Who is-”
“I’m here to see Dylan!” Steven said quickly.
“Oh yeah. She said she’d met someone funny.” The group inside was all human, on the younger side. Several were dancing, others drinking.
“Steven!” Dylan came over. “Glad you could make it. Ever tried Tarisian ale?”
“No, not yet.”
“It really is the best. Over here-”
Within 15 minutes of Layla and Steven’s arrival, everyone who’d had a refill of the drink was unconscious on the floor. Layla looked very pleased and held up a hand. Steven, after a moment of confusion, gave her a half hearted high five. The sound was not satisfying. She laughed at him, slapped her own palm for a louder noise, and went to start digging through the backpacks the young soldiers had stacked by the door.
“Have a helmet.” She tossed it over her shoulder at him and he failed to catch it, yelping as it hit his shoulder then his toe. “Oops. You okay there?”
“Yeah. Yeah it more surprised me than anything else.” He scooped the helmet off the floor. He really didn’t want to put it on. He didn’t like having his face covered. He hated feeling like he couldn’t breathe. Then again, it wouldn’t be for too long. He missed the side-long glance she gave him as he struggled to put on his disguise.
Dressed in Sith armor, a little too tight over their regular clothes, he and Layla left the apartment, locking it behind them. “We’ve got hours before they wake up and even then, they won’t really know what hit them.” She said softly and he nodded. One less thing to be anxious about. He’d end up worrying about it anyway, he knew.
“Another patrol headed for the lower city?” Asked a guard, the same one who’d stopped Layla earlier that day.
“Yes.”
“Be careful down there. The gangs don’t respect authority at all.” The man said and let them go right into the elevator. Steven didn’t relax until the doors closed and they began moving down.