Private Of all the cantinas in all the spaceports in all the galaxy...

[Perail Staite]

Perail leaned the broom against the counter and looked at Cerrik. Her brows furrowed. It was not something she had ever really thought about. Wasn't that how moving worked? Did other people have to think about it before they moved, plan it somehow? What reference for comparison did she have? She had been very good at ball games as a school girl, there was that.

"I... guess so?" she said hesitantly, still pondering.

"If you can't tell, I rarely think before I move. Now look where that's led", she added in a feeble attempt at a self-deprecating joke, smiling wryly while her eyes were still shiny with tears not yet fully released.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

Cerrik tilted his head slightly, watching her with that calm, unreadable expression he often wore—though his eyes, gentle and perceptive, told a different story. He didn't comment right away. Instead, he gave her a moment to sit with her words, letting the silence stretch just long enough to feel intentional, not awkward.

"You might be surprised how rare that is," he said quietly, stepping closer, though still giving her space. "Most people think first. Second-guess. Hesitate. But you—" he gestured faintly, not dismissively, more like he was trying to find the right way to say it. In the end, he didn't say it becaise he wasn't even sure about it.

"If you'd like, I can take you back to my ship," he offered, voice steady. "There is a test I can run, completely harmless, that will answer something about yourself. Its up to you."

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

Perail's mind used the moment of silence that was given her to once again attempt escape. This time, it retreated into banal memories. She thought of the other girls from gym class with whom she had played. She remembered they always picked her first when it came to forming teams. Maybe she really was quick.

Rynn Soltra had got knocked up at sixteen. It had made a scandal and Perail had really felt for her, because the girl wanted to be a mother. She was just the type. The guy didn't stick around, of course, but she had her parents. Perail had known the mother, a friendly woman who ran a small starport motel of sorts. It was usually freighter crews who stayed there.

There was Teyna Marris, who for a whole year had the attention of all the boys, because she was the first in class to grow a bust - and a very large one at that. She kept complaining to the other girls how awful it was. Perail had always found it obvious that she was genuine about her discomfort, even when the other girls didn't believe Teyna and thought she was just trying to avoid their envy. She didn't know why the other couldn't see it.

The odd one, Jalenn Rusk, was no doubt studying to be an engineer by now. Everyone had always known she was destined for that, she had a knack for things more than for people, which hadn't made it easy for her at the time. She was terrible at sports, too, and flat-chested. She must have still been a virgin when she left school, which was a bit sad.

The three years since then felt like an eternity now. A lot had happened, Perail had been sucked into a maelstrom of events and the familiar world of school was now very distant.

"Most people think first. Second-guess. Hesitate. But you—"

"No time to second-guess if you want to catch the ball", said Perail with shrug. She didn't even notice she hadn't mentioned anything about balls.

"If you'd like, I can take you back to my ship."

"Really?" She looked up at him with a glimmer of hope. Nothing he said about a test had even registered in her mind, all she had heard was 'my ship'.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

Cerrik tilted his head slightly, watching her with that patient, open gaze of his—the one that always seemed to listen deeper than just words. Her answer, her hopeful look, told him more than any analysis ever could. She was slipping—mentally, emotionally—just trying to keep herself tethered.

He didn't press her on the 'ball' thing. There was no point.

"Yes." Cerrik said quietly, like it was a promise rather than an offer. "Really. If that's what you want."

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

"Yes, of course!" Perail seemed to practically come alive again from one moment to the next. She looked up at Cerrik with a smile and waited, expectantly. She was a comet captured into orbit by a planet.

After a moment, she sprang into action, grabbed her belt with the blaster from the counter, and proceeded to tie it around her hips. "When do we go?" she asked, clearly expecting the answer to be 'now' as she looked the room as if to decide whether anything else was urgent. The importance of the cleaning-up work had evidently faded rapidly in her mind.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

Cerrik watched her with a flicker of amusement in his eyes, arms loosely folded as he leaned against the wall. The way she moved—from stillness to kinetic energy—reminded him of the quicksilver shift of a breeze before a storm.

"If you're ready," he said with a small nod, his voice calm but warm, "we can leave now."

He glanced toward the doorway, then back at her with a faint, knowing smile. "I get the feeling you've already decided there's nothing here more important."

Without another word, he turned and began walking, the quiet rhythm of his boots echoing softly down the corridor. The spaceport wasn't far, tucked between rust-streaked hangars and sun-baked duracrete, and Cerrik led the way with an easy, unhurried pace.

His ship came into view—sleek and utilitarian. Not flashy, but built for endurance and discretion. As they approached the ramp, Cerrik keyed in the entry code and motioned for her to follow with a tilt of his head.

"Welcome aboard," he said, stepping inside and pausing long enough for her to catch up. The interior was clean, spare but not sterile, with subtle signs that it sees use. "Have a seat." Cerrik told her as he retrieved something.

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

Perail fumbled the key code to lock the cantina's door from outside - you couldn't, after all, have any random punk walk up to your business and lock its front door to keep patrons out - at the first attempt, and had to do it a second time. Then she hurried to catch up with Cerrik, as even though he walked at a leisurely pace, his large stature meant that Perail had to move swiftly to keep up with him.

The night was warm and had a quality that Perail had never experienced. Perhaps it was the alcohol after all, perhaps it was that the strain on her nerves had left them frayed and receptive, perhaps it was the budding excitement - or all of them combined. The noises of the jungle, the calls of birds and animals of all sorts, carried from beyond the jungle. Everything felt very, oddly, alive, and the air was energising.

When they reached the ship, Perail scurried left and right around it to see it from other angles like a curious critter while Cerrik unlocked the vessel and waited for the ramp to lower. When it did so, she shamelessly jumped on it before it had even touched the ground and went ahead to look around inside. She smiled at Cerrik when he followed her inside, and then sat down obediently where he offered her a seat, observing him expectantly.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

While Perail took a seat, he rummaged through some drawers to find something. When he did, he pulled it out and approached the seating area. It was a hand-held screen.

"This is a basic test for Jedi to see if someone might be Force Sensitive. I have a feeling you might be, so I would like to test it to confirm. Its complete harmless and simple. All you need to do is tell me what shows up on the screen."

However, from Perail's side, the screen couldn't even be seen. It was just the solid back of the device.

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

Perail had no understanding of the significance of this, but was happy to go along with it. She had no idea what Cerrik was going to learn from her just telling him what she saw on a screen, but he seemed to know what he was doing. She leaned forward, stretched out her hand to reach for the tablet - and then realised that Cerrik had no intention of giving it to her. At first she looked puzzled, then she withdrew, smiling delightedly. "Oh, you're asking me to guess!"

She seemed to think for a moment, then shrugged and simply named the first thing that came to mind.

"A stewfruit."

It was staggeringly improbable for anyone to guess any number of cases correctly by pure chance. There were simply too many things in the galaxy. And that was precisely what made the test so useful: even a small number of correct guesses was indicative of special powers of intuition. Because the Force did not obey the laws of probability.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

Cerrik sat quietly and patiently as Perail took the test, naming the objects that flash on the screen. He was impressed but how well she was doing, but his face remained calm during the test, aso to not interfere.

When the final object flickered and disappeared from the screen, Cerrik finally shifted, leaning back slightly. He offered her a calm smile—small but warm, like sunlight through fog.

"You did well," he said gently, his voice low and even. "I can say with confidence that you are indeed Force Sensitive. More so than the average individual."

Perail Staite

 

[Perail Staite]

"And... what does that mean?" she asked a bit lost. And then, more hopefully: "Does that mean I can go with you?"

"Oh, wait... You still had your business with those people."

She seemed confused as to how to navigate this situation and what to expect now. It was clear that 'the Force' was not really a concept she had yet.

Cerrik​

 

[Cerrik]

He sat the device on the table. "Yes, I still have business with the pirates, but after its concluded, I will returning to the Jedi Temple. You are more than welcome to come with, if that is what you want. I am not trying to force your hand or decide for you. The choice is up to you."

He leaned back slightly, hands folding calmly in his lap as his gaze met theirs—steady, unwavering, but not demanding. There was no pressure in his voice, only the faint undercurrent of sincerity.

"You've been through a lot," he continued, softer now. "More than most, and certainly more than anyone should at your age. I won't pretend to understand everything you've felt, or the reasons that brought you here. But I do know that you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"So whatever you decide—I'll respect it. I just want you to know that you do have a choice. And if you need time to think... take it. I'll be around."


Perail Staite