Enchanted to Meet You

[Lord Ghoul]

"A real nosy Nancy," Mikhail grumbled, gaze lazily tracking her movements as she slipped off the stool in the way a lounging corellian sand panther stares at a passing ropo. Weighing the effort of even getting up in the first place.

Except Jamie was no ropo.

Shorn slid easily off the stool and padded over to the empty pool table, grabbing two sticks as he went. He tossed a cue toward the barbie. The other he kept, spinning it casually until he realized it was a Form II kata, at which point he stopped immediately and brought the cue down in front of him. Old habits die hard.

"So, you like pod racing." He chalked the tip, flicked a look her way, then broke the set.

The balls went rolling across the green, every which way. Only one in. Hmm. Stripes. "Why?"

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Jamie fumbled with catching the cue with her free hand as Mikhail tossed it to her, nearly dropping it before finally grasping a secure hold. Her eyes lifted momentarily, noticing the flourish as if he were some type of duelist. She perked an eye, though quickly let it fade away without a spoken word. Some people were simply into showboating. The blonde certainly could peg Mikhail as one, given what little of his personality had thus far been unveiled.

Setting down the glass atop a small stool that belonged to a table just beside the pool table Jamie twisted the small powder cube over the tip of the stick, her eyes fixated on the billiards while Shorn broke them, sending each one in a different direction before pocketing a single stripped ball, dropping out of sight as it rolled back into the table below.

Propping her elbows back on the table beside where her crimson colored wine sat she considered for a moment his question, debated on giving him a snarky response that provided no actual substance to the answer, but ultimately decided otherwise.

"They're exciting. A combination of skill and luck. They're dangerous and fast. The sound of the engines as they whiz passed where you sit makes your heart pound."

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Mikhail lined up a shot, the length of japor ivory wood sliding neatly through his fingers as he tested, once, twice.

Corner pocket.

Click. The white sphere sped across the green, smacked into the desired target with a satisfying clink and sent it careening into the desired hole. Of course, Mikhail by this point was already moving around the table, looking to line up his next shot.

"Well, sister, that sounds an awful lot like what I said. Minus the part about you at the controls."

Click. Another one rolling across the green. The ball rolled away at the last moment, almost as if it had curved, completely missing his target.

Lips curled back, a smirk that teased knowledge. As if he knew some mystery of the universe that the rest of the galaxy had failed to unravel.

Shorn leaned against his cue, waiting for her to get to work. His gaze settled on her, still the look of the bored sand panther.

"Swooning for those pod racer pilots? Throttle revving the engine of your heart?" He laid the back of one hand across his forehead and pretended to faint. " Wondering what else he can do with hands that quick?"

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Two down and a missed shot. Well, at least he wasn't a professional. Jamie had played a bit of the sport, if one could call it that, back home with her friends from time to time, often making small bets of a credit or two per game when they could afford such gambling.

"So it does." She said plainly in agreement. "So. It. Does."

The blonde cast a small grin as she tilted the cue over the table, her eyes scanning along each of the orbs to determine which would be best to sink first. Settling on one particular ball off to the side she let the stick fall between two fingers, her eyes fixating on Mikhail for a moment.

"I wouldn't say swooning for them, but there's a certain appeal to someone who appreciates fast thrills and dangerous games."

Blue eyes fell back to the cue and the billiard, knocking the white ball into a striped one, which in turn clanked against the purple colored solid she had been aiming for, lazily rolling into the center pocket and returning beneath the table like the others before it. A quick smile painted her face as she stood back up to re-examine the table.

"But the winners aren't always determined by whose the fastest."

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"All about..." his eyes drifted to the balls on the table, "how you play the field."

Shorn felt the warmth of the alcohol fading quickly from his system. As usual, pouring drinks into the empty hole in his chest only got him so far. Still, it was fun, wasn't it? Trying to patch up tartarus with a few whiskeys and a game of pool. Who knew what he'd try to throw in there next. A body or too, maybe. A bucket of blood. Hmm, but he didn't feel the hunger like he used to. This sack of meat hadn't had the kill switch flipped on by Kasperli. He should probably have felt good about that, but for whatever reason his chest just grew a little more hollow.

"Oh for the life of adventure and danger," he waggled his brows, "Is that why you became a pilot?"

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

"A pilot?"

The cue struck once more against the white ball, a bit of bluish powder puffing from the tip of the stick as it cracked against the now rolling billiard, colliding with another solid ball, sending it bouncing against two sides of the table and into a striped ball, inadvertently knocking both stripe and solid into the opposite pockets in the center of the table. The blonde rolled her eyes at her miscalculation, having intended to simply knock the other away, not into the hole.

Leaning back up she huffed in disappointment before realizing what he had been referring to. "Oh, no. I'm not much of a pilot. In fact, quite the opposite. I'm awful at it. But one has to practice to get better at anything, right?"

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"Oh?" Shorn asked, a spark of genuine interest and slight confusion shining from his expression like a slim ray of moonlight peeking through midnight clouds.

He caught her eyes and gestured wide, palm up. "So what do you do, aside from dreaming of pod racers?"

Mikhail's hands came back to rest on the cue. His gaze swept back to the pool table, looking over the remaining balls, lingering on the solid purple. The sphere rested near the center pocket, looking oh so out of place. He wondered if she would notice instantly, or if she would be momentarily distracted by his question. You never can tell with blondes.

Strange, Shorn felt he must have fallen far to now be playing cheap parlor tricks on a random girl on the Galactic Alliance. Mikhail found he no longer care about galactic politics, or who sat on what throne. Death seemed to have given him a new perspective. Oh, his life was even more completely and utterly shattered than it had been before. No friends to go back to, all dead now. All he had in this life was Kate. And she didn't want any part of him. Mikhail knew it made sense. Growing up in Chiloon, raised by a droid, she had no reason to care about him. So why does it hurt so much?

Clearly, the alcohol was no longer doing its job.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

The blonde's eyes shifted from Mikhail to the table, pupils looking over the balls as he spoke. With a shrug she adjusted her posture, hands wrapping around near the top of the cue while she rested her weight on the stick with a slight lean.

"Besides that?" Jamie scrunched up her nose and gave it a wiggle. "Competitive fencing back home on Naboo. That's what I'm good at."

She figured it wasn't exactly appropriate or always safe to go waving the Force ability around in public, especially to a person seemingly disinterested in such a thing. Besides, she preferred to go off the idea that she was nothing special. Not like that wasn't at least partially true anyway. She was certainly no Jedi, and was only loosely competent with the Force.

"But here?" She gestured around her, which would be the bar, but the intent was the Alliance in general, "Here I just do what I can and learn from those willing to teach."

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

She leaned forward on her stick. Mikhail did the same. The pool table between them a grass green expanse. A battlefield? A game. What was the difference?

Irises like slivers of ice glinted in the bar light as Mikhail's gaze ran over her form. Coy lips curled up conspiratorially

"Competitive fencer? Well you've got the body for it."

Shorn's eyebrows waggled suggestively.

The dark sider's thoughts twisted and turned. Fencers and nobility went hand in hand. He knew that better than most. Did that make her Naboo royalty? Probably. Minor at best, otherwise they wouldn't allow her to come fight with the Alliance. Unless she was estranged.

My, my. We do seem to have a lot in common.

He wondered if her father was vindictive, or merely cold. So many watching eyes, tracking every movement, every foot out of step. Chill fingers reached around his heart and squeezed, wringing out joy like water from a towel.

"Naboo royalty? Should I be calling you princess Jamie? Can't say I envy you though. All those expectations, pulling you down when you want to soar."

Enough to make someone snap.

Mikhail smiled knowingly.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

The girl left a rather blank stare on her face as Mikhail openly looked her over and gestured with his brows. How incorrigible.

"Princess?" She said in a low, almost mocking tone. "I'm no princess. Naboo has both a queen and a princess of their own. Neither of which are me, nor do I have a desire to be tied to such a title." It was clear in her voice that she didn't hold much regard for the titles or stature of the nobility there.

"My parents are prominent figures in the high courts. They wanted that life for me. I didn't. I left. It's that simple." It wasn't, despite her claim. Her parents had desperately searched for her, sent out bounties to find her, and called in favors across their network of friends to bring her home. Thankfully her parents had no connections with any true Force wielders, lest she lose her one advantage she had on them.

"So here I am, making what I can for myself without that life smothering my every footstep."

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"Good." Mikhail's smile disappeared as if blown away by a cold gale that etched a harshness into his features and left his eyes hollow and ruthless. "Because I hate nobility."

The menace vanished as quickly as it had come. "Always wearing those stupid, stuffy clothes, sneering down their noses at everyone. Afraid of getting their hands dirty, but willing to let others do it for them. Sooo last millennia."

The mercurial man chuckled lightly, but his eyes still stared right through her. Nobility don't do simple, but we all have our secrets. Just seems I've stumbled across yours.

"Without them you just feel... liberated."

Mikhail gestured again and the spheres littering the table began to roll, every which way, thunking into the holes until none remained but the cue ball, which spun sadly in the center of the green.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Jamie gave a bit of a forced laugh at Mikhail's words. She was nobility, even if she didn't practice many of their customs. She did appreciate proper mannerisms, etiquette, and morality. What she wasn't one for was the political games that were constantly played; The back room deals that were made between prominent figure heads, and the discreet favors made by folk in exchange for some other benefit down the line. That, and she was wholly against the idea that social class dictated one's personal status as a person. The wealthy elitists typically looked down on others less fortunate and that made her sick to her core.

The blonde was nearly about to respond with a mild debate that nobility and politicians, however seedy, were still necessary for a structured society to be elected by the common folk to make decisions that would affect society as a whole for the good of all in hopes of bettering life for everyone when her eyes glanced to the table to see that the spheres still resting on the green were now in full motion, under the command of Mikhail's hand. One by one they slid their way into the pockets. The girl's face flushed of emotion, emptying to a blank stare as her eyes turned back to his, pale blue eyes staring almost into his soul with a modicum of fear. She'd encountered very few Force sensitives up to this point, and he was a total wildcard. Was he after her from the get-go for some reason? Perhaps her parents had sent him after her as a bounty hunter? A small tremble passed through her as she stood motionless and speechless, muscles tensing as she struggled with what to do or say. Moments seemed to turn to hours as she froze in place, looking at him without a word.

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

And there it is.

That wide-eyed stare, one part accusation, three parts fear. Mikhail drank it in like nectar. The ability to make people tremble; a fountain of youth to rejuvenate his lost and weary heart. Ha. No. After the first sweet taste of power, the elixir of her look became a black, bitter brew. Acid in his mouth, in his soul. Burning away whatever shreds of a conscience still cobwebbed his mind. A reminder of who he truly was when all his sins were laid bare.

She stood there, petrified, and didn't even know his true nature. Imagine if she knew what I've done.

Shorn's self-satisfied smile slipped away, replaced by an unsettled frown and eyes that seemed to look more inward than they did out. The billiards game forgotten. All sense of being lost in the moment and of the thrill of anonymity, gone.

The man with the past wasn't one to let vulnerability show for long, if at all. He covered up the expression of unease with a long, overly drawn out sigh and a roll of the eyes back to the pool table.

"Well, looks like I win."

A wink.

He leaned the cue against the table. "See you around."

Then he was walking through the tables and out the exit.

* * *​

​

The stars shone brightly in the night sky outside the hangar. Shorn stood at the very edge of the hangar's mouth, staring up at them. A week and a half had passed. He'd seen Kate a few more times. Just glimpses, but enough to make him want to stay. Maybe it was some absurd notion of being her guardian angel. Maybe not. Mikhail didn't know. If anything, he was more like a guardian devil, if there was such a thing.

He'd thought about leaving. Hadn't gone through with it. Mostly, he just stuck to the shadows. Pretending to do the job of that nobody he'd killed. People hadn't figured out yet. Maybe they never would. More than likely Shorn would bring the whole thing burning down around his ears. A price he was willing to pay, as long as he could make sure she was safe. Ardik didn't know he was here, much less still leaving. And last he'd heard, Ovmar had been exercising his influence with the waning Fringe remnants. And Cavill? Cavill was probably dead by now. But a lot could change in six years.

Strange, but he missed the Pariah. That ship had felt as much like home as anything else he'd had in life.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Leaving couldn't come soon enough. The blonde had spent the last 10 or so days dreading seeing Mikhail again. She hadn't the faintest clue as to why he had followed her around those two days, or why he had revealed to her in such a manner that he was a Force user, and what exactly his motives were in doing so. Today was the last day she'd spend within Alliance space for the time being, needing to return to Keira for continued training with her master. In a rush she packed her belongings, mostly clothes, a few trinkets and personal items, nothing more into a small pack that was slung over her right shoulder.

Just a few more hours, Jamie, and you're out of here.

The girl knelt, tightening the laces to her boots before again standing and heading out of her room for the last time. Deciding that inside the hangar and bar were likely poor choices to hang out while she awaited a ship to depart for Cartao, she opted for a long walk around the outer perimeter of the station, though as she began her trek towards the hangar bay she spotted him. The knot in her throat returned, her chest sinking as she tried to avoid making eye contact with the man, hurrying along towards the opposite end of the entryway. Perhaps he wouldn't notice her at all. Perhaps.

[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

The air in front of Jaime distorted and a tall, dark haired man with hollow cheeks and arching eyebrows shimmered into existence.

“Well, well, well,” the high, snide voice implied the smirk even before it grew to life on his pale, angled features. “If it isn’t her royal highness herself.”

Not-Mikhail’s eyes narrowed slightly, equal parts mischief and danger dancing in them, bright as two blue stars. Atoms collided in their depths again and again in a swirl of mesmerizing energy. Stare long and you’d see haunting afterimages in your sleep. Stare too long and you might never see again.

“What’s the matter?” The second voice came from behind her, from the first Mikhail she’d seen. He strolled up, not a care in the world,.

Suddenly, Not-Mikhail began to fade, until the last she might’ve seen was that playful smirk, tugging at the corner of his lips, then that was gone too.

It reappeared on the first Mikhail’s face. He looked her up and down. Emotions bled from her like water from a sieve. What was that? Was it panic?

“Never seen a magic trick before?”

[member="Jamie Pyne"]

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Jamie back-peddled a step or two at the sudden appearance of that same man she'd met only recently. He seemed to get off on intimidating others, or at the very least, her. The flinch as stutter to her voice no doubt gave the slightest bit of joy to [member="Mikhail Shorn"], his intent having succeeded. The second voice that came from behind her caused her to spin around on her heels to face the actual Shorn.

"What do you want?" She asked accusingly. "Why are you following me around?"

Judging by her posture and tone it was pretty clear she was both threatened and irritated by the intrusion once again.

"Furthermore, I'm not a princess, nor a queen. So that title is actually incorrect."

 

[Lord Ghoul]

The hangar smell of fighter fuel and grease permeated the air, enough to make anyone more than a little light headed. Mikhail took in a breath himself, shoulders shrugging upwards apologetically, while his mouth curled into another smirk that was nothing of the sort.

"I beg your pardon, m'lady." A sly wink.

"Though technically it's you that should be begging mine. Since I was the one here first, you'd be the one following me around."

Mikhail felt a surge of emotion at the fear in her eyes. Was it pleasure? Probably. Scaring some random blonde he'd met in a hallway in order to feel powerful. Wow. He'd really hit the bottom of the barrel. But dying tends to do that to people. You come back and you just aren't the same anymore. Shorn found there wasn't a lot he wouldn't do to get a taste of the sort of power he used to hold. Right hand of the Empress. Champion of the Cauldron. A man whose very mention sent grown warriors shivering.

And now? A forgotten memory, six years buried. Might as well have been a ghost.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]