Private Playing with Fire

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

"Okay, okay, sorry! I got into it!"

His hands raised at the accusatory finger waggle. He had almost died at using 'baby' himself, so Sion didn't particularly mind that she outlawed its usage until further notice. The only reason Sion managed to say it was because he had been tapped into confident attitudes around him. Whenever you find a fuccboi and tap into their confidence?

You could say the wildest chit without blushing.

"Oh... okay, yeah." Nodding there. Sion had never been on a train before and especially not on Dantooine. So all of this was rather new to him. This didn't seem to be the case for Cordé however.

She seemed entirely tapped into the current way of things for Dantooine.

How long had she been here?

Sion's hands rested on his hips when she mentioned that one of them would get off. "Well, about that. This is the last stop, so... not really sure if you can just keep sitting in the train, you know?" This was probably like a hammer of surprise swinging from the heavens into Cordé's face. This was entirely fair, but she wasn't allowed to respond to it.

Because two moments later the conductor bot rolled through the wagon and asked for their tickets.

Sion promptly gave his.

Then it expectantly looked at Cordé. Sion held his breath... but was forced to release it a moment's later, because her forgery was flawless. Clearly Sion shouldn't need to worry so muc-

His eyes widened as he felt it. Without explaining anything to Cordé, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her into the cramped washing room compartment next to them. If she tried to say something his hand would quickly cover her mouth while Sion locked the door. Through the thin gap between the floor and the door?

Combat boots passed by. Half a score of them.

Sion looked back to Cordé and realized just how close they were now.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Intentionally, Cordé avoided looking at Sion Lorray through the ticket-exchange process. Mostly because she could feel him watching, and creeping, anxious doubt or suspended waiting just seemed to introduce the likelihood that something could go wrong. Because today, if something could go wrong, it seemed to want to.

Just as she opened her mouth to ask about what this fabled last stop was, no sound came out. Maybe only the puffy start of a word. Sion’s hand folded over her face was indicative of silence’s necessity and as much as she frowned into his palm, she respected the urgent gesture.

Her mind struggled to fill in the gaps of what was happening—but the quick arrival of heavy echoes answered any questions she could have asked.

Stunned and stupid, she stared at the shadows, utterly motionless and waited for the sounds to pass. And when he removed his hand, and she breathed, she was aware of the bare nothing between them. It was an even thinner bare stretch she’d crossed that fateful night.

Thinner because the room was impossibly small, and swelled around them like a bruise. She was vaguely aware of the circumstance, with the sink pressing against her back and hands fumbling over the taps and corners where the counter and wall met. She could touch everything. And worse everything and more was touching her. Her entire front was almost numb from the slow-awareness that Sion was basically pressed right to her.

Agitation spiked through her, kickstarting the unceasingly quick beat of her heart once she recognized the unforgiving space they’d transferred to.

It was darker than the warehouse had been. Only the shadows knew their shapes, where one started and the other began. Barely bright enough to make a difference, the under door’s pale light stretched only to make faint outlines of the room’s occupants. For Sion, it was a silvery glow through his tousled hair, face and made his eyes gleam moonishly.

She focused on these lines because she knew them, and took away from the overbearing tightness of the room. As in the garbage chute, there was something about him that she could anchor against to avoid spiralling into panic. Something calming about the nearness of him and the steadiness of his eyes on hers.

Calming in one way, but in another… the racing thuds of her heart did not slow. She tried to inch back so he couldn’t feel it beating through her chest.

She needed another distraction, something to interfere with the breathing air between them — so she edged out a cautious whisper and scraped her fingers in the direction of the door’s lock.

“Do you know where they’re going?”

He’d seemed to know their intentions earlier. Perhaps he still did. Yes, that was a good, neutral topic. She could focus on that instead of Sion. A distraction within a distraction. Sion distracted her from the room, and the troopers distracted her from Sion; the further she could pull her mind from the present proximity the better.

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

Just as Cordé wasn't immune to their proximity neither was Sion.

In fact, because of her emotions running so close against him, it only magnified his own. Her heart beat so fast, it only sped his own one up, until they practically beat in sync. Give or take a beat, of course. He only had eyes for her and it was a good thing that Sion had locked the door. Because right now he would not even have the presence of mind to try and keep the door closed.

If the stormtroopers came back.

She asked him a question about them.

Sion's brows furrowed and reminded him of every other time she tried to switch the subject when they were about to get real. "Why did you kiss me, Cordé?" He murmured softly. At the same time he guided his hand up to cup her jaw.

"Why did you run away right after?"

His fingers gently squeezed there.

"Why did you disappear for so long and now that I found you again... you can't do anything except try and flee again?"

Physically - trying to get off the station, trying to exit the cabin, trying to exit this cramped room. Emotionally - not even allowing the subject to be raised.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Anywhere but here. She wanted desperately to be anywhere but trapped with the Jedi she'd fallen for.

Despite everything she'd tried to do, all her condemnations, she still felt drawn to him in the worst way — the kind of way that brought about pangs of hurt when he implored her for an explanation, listing one thing after the other that she'd done to them, why, why, why.

Her hand stopped reaching for the lock the second he touched her. It felt like her skin burned beneath his fingers and made her nerves as bright as stars; fire and electricity racing in a current up and down her spine and she tensed. His eyes and words pleaded for the truth, and she couldn't look away. She was too stunned to move, and too moved to speak.

Unanswered silence lasted longer than she thought her nerves could bear. But still, he waited patiently, giving her the space to collect herself and share the truth.

What she'd done had been silly, and created something fragile and wonderful between them, and she'd destroyed it. Or, she thought she had. But here he was, tender and patient while she suspended between two realities.

The worst part of it was, she'd already hurt Sion Lorray once. How many more times could she hurt him again before she couldn't live with herself?

One more.

It had to be the last, but the denial was slow to come. Her tongue was a stone in her mouth, heavy and rough and blocked any explanation from flowing. How could words ever make their way around such an obstacle?

Maybe she could attach herself to another persona. One that was uncaring, or indifferent — a mental way to pull her from this tiny room with a ginormous problem. She wasn't a talented enough agent for that yet, and couldn't disassociate from the all consuming rawness of now.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The thinness of her voice was the only way any words could croak out through the clench of her jaw against the soft curve of his hand. Behind her eyes ached.

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

Sion was waiting, patiently, but internally it was roiling him. Like a tornado roaring through his chest and twisting him apart. It was difficult... oh so difficult, but this was important. He already pushed her towards answering him instead of letting her dodge. The least Sion could do was give her a moment to collect herself and try to-

What came out of her mouth was unexpected.

He mentally prepared himself for words like mistake and won't happen again and just drunk. In the meanwhile Sion had hoped for words like Sorry and love and other warm moments.

This?

No, Sion did not see it coming and for a moment he was baffled, while his brows furrowed to a shut.

"You are kidding me." He murmured, trying to find something in her eyes. But while her words were lies Sion could feel it in her heart. She was hurting just as much as he was by those words. "I am talking about this." And before Cordé could respond or react, he leaned in hard, pushing her back against the wall and kissed her.

His was more agitated, anxious, but no less warm and searching.

For weeks Sion had played the moment back in his head.

Now he wanted to rekindle it.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

The ache in his voice when he murmured his disbelief turned her inside out. She expected his confoundment — she did not expect his conviction.

She should have stopped Sion Lorray before he leaned in. She’d had the chance only in the split second she felt him shift and move into her. But she missed it. Instead, her eyes closed and she felt herself open up beneath his kiss.

Did he taste it? The graveyard between her heart and her mouth of all the words unsaid? Where her confusion, shame, lived and died and insisted on resurrection again and again? Where the answers he wanted lived? Why did you kiss me, Cordé? Because I wanted to. I wanted to then, I still do.

She hated the intensity of her want. Even now, in this flash of an instant, the urge to blur into him was mind-shattering.

Why did you run away right after? Why can’t you do anything except try and flee again? Because I can’t want you like this. We can’t do this. I can't do this to you.

For both their sakes, she had to give into that hate in the way that would put enough space between them that this could be the last time she hurt him.

FINAL DESTINATION: ELORI CITY. ALL PASSENGERS MUST DEPART.

Neither he nor she would know if it was because of the sudden knock on the door, or the announcement, or the reaction to him taking a kiss from her (hypocritical), but Cordé slapped him. It was a distinct enough sound for the knuckles on the other side of the door to pause mid-rap.

The boots had returned. “OPEN UP.”

CONNECTIONS TO TRAIN LINE 1-D AND 7-D ARE ACCESSIBLE FROM THE NORTHEAST PLATFORM. TRANSFER TICKETS ARE AVAILABLE FOR PURCHASE.

Immediately, the sound, the contact, the sting in her fingertips, all of it at once shook her and she felt the floodgates of everything she’d withheld come out. Those words that she’d kept tamed and beaten into submission at the back of her throat became wild and needed to be heard.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and flooded her hands to either side of his face and pressed her lips the area she’d turned red first, then kissed the way across his cheek to the corner of his mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” she was quiet again, but he’d feel the trace of the words from her lips to his. “I never should have..” Kissed you, ran away that night, taken any job I could that helped me get away from you, never reached out to check in on you, interfered with you on the train platform today. There were too many things for her to apologise for.

And the door shaking and groaning under the insistence of the troopers on the other side didn’t do her any favours for focusing in an already incredibly convoluted moment.

Running away was the thing she regretted the most.

“We can’t,” her voice threatened to break “—we can’t do this n—” Her sentence was inconclusive. Now? Nios? Not ever?

Light spilled into the room, and a firm hand on Sion’s arm yanked him back and away from her.

“Last stop.” The trooper growled. Even though they all looked the same in their armour, uniformed and dignified, this was clearly the same guy from earlier. “What’s your business in Elori city, ya freaks.”

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

He was dazed.

From the kiss, from the slap, from the apologies and hushed words. Her emotions were in turmoil and not even his practice could save him from being lost in it. "Don't apologize," He stammered softly, gently, holding her shoulder and cupping her jaw in kind. "You don't need to apologize. I am sorry, for pushing, for kissing you without permission, for not being-"

And then the rapping against the door echoed against him.

The presence behind the door made him widen his eyes. "Oh, no-" And then Sion was yanked away from Cordé's brilliant light. He felt colder for it already, but also... remarkably less dazed.

A deep suggestion that he still had ways to go still.

"Honeymoon." Sion responded automatically to the growled question. This... was probably not a good idea. But all metaphorical eyes were on them now. If they separated? Sion suspected that would arise suspicion. "But the missus gets a bit rough when she isn't happy." He tapped his red cheek with a cheeky grin.

This didn't have the desired effect.

"Honeymoon in Elori City? Likely story. There is nothing there besides agriculture works and restricted ruins." If a man could visibly salivate at the prospect of meting out judgement their stormtrooper friend was certainly there. "Maybe I found some Jedi sympathizers..."

Before the stormtrooper could take that thought any further Sion decided he needed to take a risk.

Strictly speaking he hadn't done this before. Sion didn't like it, even if the Jedi had made a whole reputation out of it. Meddling into people's thoughts was... concerning. The prospect of taking away their free will. It was disturbing to Sion. But he could feel his emotions- the stormtrooper didn't care about facts or arguments.

In fact, the issue was that the Stormtrooper did believe him. And he loathed that.

"No, you have that wrong, sir, please!" Then Sion reached out with the Force. A regular Jedi mind-trick had to be done verbally. But Osarla Ridor had never taught him that. Instead... all he had was his empathy. He forced open a pathway between himself and the angry stormtrooper. For a moment it overwhelmed him... and for a moment Sion completely empathized with him.

His village raided by pirates. His wife murdered. His children hate him for being off-world on campaign instead of protecting them. They don't want to see him. All he has is the job. But pay is late, he will be evicted soon. The Empire is all he has, but the Empire is crumbling, does nobody else se-

Sion gasped and reversed the connection. There should be an elegant way to do it, but Sion didn't have one. All he could do was force a single reaction on the man. Understanding. Feel the empathy. For a moment the stormtrooper recoiled and stared down at Sion. The visor black and unyielding. But then-

"Perhaps I am. Enjoy your honeymoon, sir, missus."

And the Stormtrooper left.

Breathing out he almost collapsed against the wall as all the tension left his body. That had been too close and too much.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Uselessly mute, Cordé could only watch horrified as the scene unfolded. Sion answered the trooper’s question before she could edge her way into the conversation and, considering this was clearly his first time in an espionage situation, his excuse was pretty well-contained. If he’d said visiting family or something it would rope in others and just…

But it was a lie that involved just her, and it also meant she still didn’t know why he was here.

She felt a hand on her shoulder when she stepped out of the tiny room, adding a layer of restriction to the wider space. It was one of the troopers who’d tried to calm their friend down earlier, and was letting the exchange take place. His buddy clearly needed it.

Her mind was racing, looping from one potential to the next. Fight? Follow? Flee? Each action had a consequence, and each consequence heightened the risk. Risks she couldn’t afford after all the SIA had set up on Dantooine. Within the next few days, the uprising would —

Whatever happened, the expected outcome changed. The trooper backed off, physically, and relented his interrogation. She felt the hand on her shoulder loosen, and eventually shift.

The soldier that had been behind her stepped past both her and Sion, and linked up with his companion. They didn’t even look back at the withered boy they’d been deadset on.

If they did, they might have thought he was just extremely stressed out from the exchange, and lost his composure. Cordé might have thought that too, but she’d seen him like this before. After he’d been spat out of the garbage chute— he said he’d communicated with the worm.

"Can't do that many things in a row without being... exhausted."

He’d used the Force.

Upset spiked through her, and she moved in to offer a shoulder to lean on. She wanted to scold him, he shouldn’t have done that, that was too risky. What if something had gone wrong?

Nothing had gone wrong. The months of their separation had apparently made him a bit stronger with whatever the Jedi were teaching him, it seemed. A sentient worm and a human were leaps and bounds apart in the influence department. Whatever he’d done, had deeply affected the man behind the visor.

What had he done?

Cordé felt a murmur of fear at the base of her heart. Sion had the ability to influence people without them knowing. That was a scary concept.

“Are you okay?” She asked, and looked from him to the exit. She squeezed his arm, “We still have to get off this train.”

When he allowed her, they navigated from the hallway to the main exit and back onto the platform. It smelled like fish and was uncomfortably warm.

At least it was wide open, and no eyes were on them for the moment. She took advantage of the space to both control the subject so they couldn’t go back to their apologising, and so he’d be more in-tune with the sensitivities of her mission here.

“Whatever it is you’re doing in Elori City, actually, needs to be done as quickly as you can, and then you need to leave. It’s not safe, and it’s really unstable.

The Empire’s coming undone and more and more of those kind of run-ins are going to keep happening. Whatever you did back there, you're lucky their friend didn't catch on."

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

Nodding quietly.

"I am, yeah." And he hoped that the stormtrooper would be okay too. It was the first time Sion had forced empathy on another human. But maybe... just maybe it would help him. The man had been so angry, so furious at the world. Never accepted the murder of his wife, blaming himself, haunted by the way his children blamed him too.

Maybe if he would accept himself and forgive him? Well-

Too much, he breathed out and leaned lightly against Cordé as they walked out. "What I did won't change our story now. I am sorry you are wrapped into it now, but." He murmured it in her ear. Now paranoid about being overheard. "We have to do this together now. The Order send me here, because we got word of a family with a newly-born. They are afraid the Knights will take their child once they hear of its... talent."

Muttered very carefully.

"They pleaded with us to take them in as a foundling. I am here to bring the babe back to Alliance space."

He nodded there seriously.

"I will be more careful, but... I may have helped him in the long run, I hope. Will you help me? I don't think I can do this without you."

Reaching out to hold her hand, giving it a light squeeze, if she lets him.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

The Order send me here, because we got word of a family with a newly-born. They are afraid the Knights will take their child once they hear of its... talent."

Everything Sion Lorray said after that fell on deaf ears. She could see his mouth moving, and the sound of his voice, but her clarity that came with being present evaporated.

Stiff paralysis seized her and their exchange took on a vaguely dreamlike feel. She stopped walking. She didn’t even know she’d done it. Her feet just stopped responding — the signals from her brain to her body were lost in the implications of what his mission was.

Someone had sent an outgoing message to Alliance personnel. That could be intercepted and interrogated. They’d put the child’s life in danger.

No, not just a child a —baby? Sion had come here prepared to look after a BABY and bring it back to Alliance space? An infant Jedi was a more terrifying concept than a full-grown Sith Lord.

He had been prepared to take an infant from enemy space to Alliance space, entirely solo before she’d intervened. And he hasn’t even grasped the concept of aliases.

And he was okay with that? That’s what had happened to him, that’s what had happened to her aunt. And it had torn Cordé’s own family apart.It was the very act that had turned her mother into a Force-hating force of her own, and what she had deeply ingrained in Cordé since infancy.

Slowly the sound of his voice resonated with letters, sounds, and real words. The station sharpened from blurred colours back to coherent shapes and structures.

The mission he was doing was everything she stood against. Perpetuating the Jedi cult, and tearing apart families.

This was exactly why she should never have given into her desires that insisted again and again. This was why they couldn’t be together — especially why they couldn’t be together. The way he was looking at her, holding her hand, was moving her to want to say yes though, and that was dangerous. How one look from one person could undo a lifetime of conditioning.

“.. what about the family?”

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

She froze up so much that Sion had been tempted to poke her cheek.

Just to figure out if she was still with him.

Her feelings were so... foreign and detached, it was difficult to parse, much less figure out what they were about. The mission was dangerous, yes, but he could manage it? The worry and concern were a bit insulting if they were being honest. But, Sion wasn't meant to be privy to her inner most feelings and so he kept the hurt feelings to himself.

Eventually she came back to him and asked-

Oh.

Maybe that was what she was worried about?

Sion sighed and shook his head in response. "They do not wish to come with us. The missive says their entire life is here, they only want us to take the child and keep her safe from the Imperials." He shrugged while cringing just a little bit at the situation. "I... will try and convince them to come anyway. A baby needs her parents around, but I can't force people against their will, you know?"

He started to walk and hopefully tugging Cordé along.

"Will you help? I know this isn't what you were expecting, but I think we both know it will be easier with you."

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Cordé’s countenance betrayed her. The conflict she felt knit tightly around her eyes and between her brows. The depth of each line emphasised further when Sion Lorray spoke about free will, and her mind start-stuttered back to what she’d witnessed just a few moments ago.

Had he even been aware of what he was doing? Was he just blindly doing Jedi Stuff?

Without a definite answer from her, he started walking. She hadn’t taken her hand back from him yet. So, sluggishly, she followed.

One of her creeds was to observe the Seraphs (Null code for Jedi). This was a deeply private occurrence, and not frequent. Certainly she wouldn’t get another opportunity like this. If she looked at it in that perspective, then maybe, just maybe she would say:

“..Alright. I'll help.”

Oh, she’d said it. Or someone that sounded like her said it.

Which version of Cordé had said it, she wasn’t sure. This is what she hated about the way he made her feel. It split her in two. On one hand, wanting desperately to support Sion and be with him, and on the other, the exact opposite. Be as far away as possible so she didn’t have to deal with these feelings that were counterintuitive to her creed.

At least he framed it in a way that if the family changed their minds, Sion wouldn’t cradle rob their daughter.

Her stomach felt pitted in sickness. A baby girl. Another horrible parallel to her distant, but weirdly doting aunt.

“But if they change their minds, I won’t help you convince them. I’m here just to make sure you don’t get caught.”

After a bit longer of walking, leaving the station behind and away from the likelihood of being accidentally overheard, at least for a moment:

“Is this the first time you’ve done something like this? Taken a child from their family so they could become a Jedi? Doesn’t that feel…weird to you? Isn’t that what happened to you?”

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

It wasn't the same to him.

Empathy was not mind control. All that Sion did was pull out the parts of the soldier that wished to be better. To care. To be a better husband, a better father. The one who took the job because he had wanted to protect the civilians around him. He had felt so powerless when the Sith were in charge, it had been pride that allowed him to serve in the forces and be a bulwark against the petty transgressions the Sith often visited on their pop-

Sion blinked and shook his head.

It was difficult to pull your head out of the empathy stream. Every fiber of his being vibrated with pain for the man. But he was on a mission... he couldn't stick around to find out if he'd do better this time around. Even if Sion wanted to so desperately.

"I am not here to force their hand." Sion murmurs softly. "I wouldn't be here if they didn't reach out themselves. If they decide they want to keep their child..." His expression clouded there. How would it feel? To have parents that wanted you. That didn't give you away at the hint of complication. He knew that this was the right choice, of course.

How could they risk raising their baby here if it would be taken away by the Imperials? But... the part of Sion that never knew his own parents smarted anyway.

"I will gladly leave again." Setting his jaw there and stretching slightly to take some of the tension in his back out. "It doesn't feel weird." But that was a lie. It felt very weird. Facilitating the exact same fate that had befallen him. "They are just trying to ensure their kid has a future. Not under Imperial strong-rule and being forced to become an Imperial Knight. Murdering Padawans on Illum."

Maybe that's what Sion had to believe.

Otherwise he would have to confront the fact that his parents just did not care about him.

He looked around and noticed a speeder bike rental. That would probably get them quicker to their destination rather than walking. Sion gestured towards it, to indicate the plan, if Cordé agreed he'd take the lead towards it. There was only one bike left, but that was fair enough, he still needed enough credits left to take the trip out of Dantooine too.

Once the money and goods were exchanged he looked over his shoulder to Cordé.

"Do you want to ride or me?"

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Once she'd agreed to be involved, she was attentive. There was a moment, an instant, where he looked faraway. Unconvinced?

Cordé frowned. The split in herself deepened. Part of her wanted to understand the reason for his distant expression, the other part silently condemned her desires.

Could she meet her conflicting interests somewhere in the middle?

"Okay," she nodded, and took a note from his book. Their hands were still twined, and she pressed her thumb to his knuckles to give a squeeze of reassurance. She only felt moderately okay with helping because she trusted him not to overinsert himself.

Despite his freaky Jedi mind trick.

"You'll make the right choice when you need to." His sensitive caution and subtle pragmatism, grounded in the reality of consequence, was one of his magnetisms.

Thankfully, he stopped to go organize transportation. It gave her a moment to centre herself, draw in a breath that was slow and precise, and exhale. Just breathe.

It seemed that only one bike was available. Her frown returned.

As far as transportation went, speeder bikes were her favourite. They were fast, efficient, and entirely open. Nothing closed the driver in. Her first time driving a speeder had been before she got her licence. On the day of her birthday when she was legally allowed to operate a vehicle on Humbarine, a bike that was entirely inappropriate for her to own appeared at her doorstep. Apple red with shiny chrome connecting all its parts. Obnoxious and exciting.

Yet another age inappropriate gift from her fun aunt. Of course, she'd crashed it immediately — the throttle had been way too sensitive — scuffed up the shiny chrome, dented the handlebars, and broken her leg. But it had been so fun.

If she didn't have something else to focus on, her mind would eat itself up. It was a pattern leaned into since that fateful Life Day. Preoccupying herself with the present was the best way to delay her own undoing and keep out of her thoughts.

It didn't really make sense for her to drive, because she didn't know where they were going. But in every selfish way, there could be no other option.

If he drove, the only benefit would be the impossibility of conversation. He wouldn't be able to shout backwards anything about what had happened on the train before the trooper had ripped them apart.

Her chest tightened at the inconclusiveness of it all. More what ifs for her brain to chew on.

Nope, she couldn't do it.

"I will. If we get pulled over again I have an imperial issued licence at least. Or, Hela does." She gave him a pointed look and swept her hair off her neck to twist it up into a knot. "But you'll have to tell me where we're going.

Either taps or shouts. Please don't go in my head for directions, emergencies only." She smiled thinly and swung her leg over the side of the bike.

By design, the swoop's seat was intended for one rider. Cordé flexed her legs and moved her hips forward to take up as little space as possible.

She ran her hand over the knob between the hand grips. "The first time I drove one of these," Cordé started, and didn't know why. Maybe to keep the conversation from straying back to explanations and apologies "I didn't have my licence yet. I went too fast and crashed immediately. I broke my leg and basically totaled the bike. My mom was furious."

Now, at least, she knew these things could make a forty degree turn with a snap. Anything more than ninety degrees and she'd have to lower the thrust.

"Don't worry, that was a long time ago. I'll get us there safe and sound."

Sion Lorray

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

He settled behind her and suppressed the desire to immediately wrap his arms around her frame.

Too obvious.

Since they weren't riding yet.

"Oh, dear, I bet she was." Chuckling there at that anecdotal story. It... sorta fit with what Sion knew of Cordé already. No wonder she joined the SIA and spent her life infiltrating behind enemy lines. Part of her must enjoy the danger, the threat, the things that made her heart beat faster. It was... very different from how Sion felt. He did it because it was the right thing to do. But these sort of missions did not bring him joy. Not really. There was too much hanging from it to enjoy it.

Sion shook his head there.

"I always feel safe in your hands, C- Hela." Shitty name. There was nothing hellish about Cordé. "So I am not worried." Once the engine turned on and the speeder lifted up in the air Sion quickly wrapped his arms around her waist. He kept close and spend exactly zero time trying to seem tough by not holding on.

It helped that he wanted to, of course.

"Straight ahead first." He murmured in her ear. Perhaps she hadn't expected that touch-to-touch contact. Sion didn't need to enter her mind to let her know what he was saying.

All he had to do was use the Force to keep the engine sound away from their ears.

"You should come with us or me when I leave. I have missed you." A soft tightening of his arms to punctuate.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Usually when her deceitfulness succeeded, it was like a victory. In this case, she felt cold failure broadening in her heart. Like she was a trap that Sion voluntarily walked into again and again. Null agents were supposed to embed themselves alongside the Jedi, to learn from them in the eventuality that they would exploit their weaknesses. Sion feeling safe with her meant she was doing a remarkable job.

But it felt so wrong. He would have been safer if he were wary of her.

His frame shadowed hers when his arms smoothed across her stomach, and locked against the nerf-hide leather of her sleeveless vest. She sucked in a breath, shivered, and chose to figure out how to start the bike rather than spend time thinking about the way he felt around her, or the dangerous snugness of his knees into the backs of hers.

Around them, the business of the terminal faded to grasslands. The magnificent sky swept over them like a cerulean brush stroke.

She was both surprised and dismayed at the clarity of his voice against her ear. She’d expected that to be more difficult. Noisier. More impossible for natural conversation.

It ended up being pretty convenient for when she needed to make a slight left, keep going straight, now to the right, just a few more klicks.

"You should come with us or me when I leave. "

It was not convenient for staying away from the conversation she’d hoped to avoid. At least, even between the two of them, he was earnest enough to still be open to the possibility of the parents changing their minds and keeping the baby.

Cordé hoped that would happen. She hoped the parents would realise the shifts in the environment, and the slipping power.

I have missed you."

Years of training helped her keep the nonplussed look on her face while her stomach erupted into happy, nervous flutters and an electric current ran through her from head to toe. But then that initial reaction shifted into something sadder, and the current turned into a roaming chill. Heartache doused the flutters.

He’d thought she was dead, and he’d missed her. She hated that she’d done that to him, and that he kept insisting on a reunion or revisiting that mistake she’d made in the warehouse. And then again on the train.

If he kept up like this, being his genuine, sweet, safe, welcoming, patient self, she’d make that mistake again. She couldn’t do that. It would only make their tenuously held relationship worse. The whole point of her avoiding her feelings for him was to not put him through hurt.

So she couldn’t admit that she had missed him too. Hot shame swept through her, and she flexed her hands against the grips. The speeder went a little faster.

Wind rushed at her face, and she leaned down, pressing herself further into the bike to both go faster and to put some distance between her face and his.

The way she thought about him was piercing and endless. He was in her mind as much as he was in her heart. On Neshtab, she thought she saw him around corners. Or his name in Jultany’s inbox. Even on Dantooine, little things reminded her of him — seeing his face on her screen today had nearly debilitated her. His arrival back into her life was as though she’d unwittingly manifested it.

Now that they were together, she wasn’t sure which was worse; the intense feeling of sharing space with him, or the absence of him.

“Where—“ she opened her mouth to ask where he was going after this mission, but a cloud of dust whooshed in, attacked her throat, and made her cough instead. The bike staccatoed a bit as she shuddered through the fit. They’d left the grasslands behind for the unpaved road that led into the part of Elori City near the lakeside where humble fishers lived.

“Sorry.” She spoke into her shoulder, keeping her cheek facing the wind instead of her nose and mouth. She dropped her speed too, to dissuade any further pebbles bouncing up in the whip of the engine and at her. The little glasteel windbreaker between the bars hadn’t done a great job so far, and she didn’t trust it anymore.

“Maybe.” She perpetuated their problem, rather than denying him outright. “Back to The Core, or is Prosperity meeting you somewhere?”

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

The sudden coughing fit shook him out of his revelry.

Even with her silence Sion had found a measure of peace with her... against her. The world quieting down around them and his eyes closed. He could feel her heart beat against his chest. Could feel the way her shoulders rose and fell along with her breath. The roil of her emotions... were less conductive towards peace however.

She was frankly all over the place.

A pinball machine that swept him alongside with her. This is how it always went with the two of them. Others? Sion had learned to slowly, but surely quiet their outer voices down and not be pulled into the maelstorm.

He couldn't do the same with Cordé. Until that coughing fit anyway.

"You... okay?" Carefully asked as his hand touched her shoulder and stroked down. "They ought to design a bigger screen I guess, huh?" Or maybe Cordé had to bend over deeper to be protected more. The thought of that, well, caused Sion to burn up a little bit. Because it would mean bending over along with her to stay safe and tied.

Which. Was a little bit too much to think about.

Those hints of enflamed emotions would find their way towards Cordé without his control. Even as he was trying to tamper it down on his side.

"The Core, yeah. Easier to get lost in the crowd transitioning out rather than let the huge Jedi ship parked somewhere near the border. We are taking a transit out to the Tingel Arm first, neutral space. The circle around, skirting past Huttese space. If we took a ship straight to the GA territories I figured we'd be in bigger potential trouble, right?"

A smile she could feel against his shoulder. He was kinda proud of himself for thinking about that.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

“Yeah,” Sion Lorray 's touch burned down her arm, and she lifted it to cover half of her face while projecting her words. “No, I’m okay, thank you. Just hit a gravelly patch I guess.”

There was no one distinct thing that caused it, but a heady, woozy rush warmed her core and radiated all the way to her fingertips and toes. Her skin flushed and for the briefest moment, all she could think about was appreciating how compatible they were, semi-curled together. It was easy to imagine what it would look like if she stopped running away. How it would feel.

It could only be an ephemeral concept though — imagination was as far as she would go.

And while the very real future, not the imagined one, was fast-coming to tear them apart again, time seemed to be flinching and settling into a gentle present where she could feel his smile into her shoulder and share in his pride. It was another endearing part of him, his boyish glee, and unmanly excitement that he wore readily. It was disarming and fragile, especially when she considered what strife he’d come from.

“Right.” She agreed, and smiled in concert to reinforce the ingenuity of his plan. “That’s a long trip, with a lot of public transit transfers with a baby.” But probably safer than the unknown regions — which were plagued with Csilla debris still and unfound Maw horrors.

She angled the speeder a bit to the right to avoid an oncoming speeder that whooshed past and out of town. Briefly, she looked over her shoulder to watch it go, then looked back to the road.

“Before you leave, we’ll get you and the child IDs you can use. I have a contact nearby.”

It was starting to smell like fish.

“How much further?”

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

"Long trip." Sion agreed there quietly and then- "Would be much safer with a pair of experienced hands at my back." Sly tone and an immediate reminder to Cordé all the same. It went like this often between the two. His gentle and soft nature, it surprised people, but not nearly as much as the hints of more behind it. When he allowed it to come out from the deepest recesses of his being. When Sion felt comfortable and safe to be more than his public-facing self.

He squeezed her around her frame again. To relay how thankful he was of her already.

"I appreciate your help already, thank you." And then he looked up, trying to get an idea of their surroundings, before nodding. His chin settling on her back gently before withdrawing once more.

"Five more minutes, then a hard right around the hill. They have a solitary homestead just outside of town."

Hopefully there wouldn't be any patrols plaguing them.

"If you have other responsibilities... if you can't come with me..." He swallowed there, strengthening his resolve. "I understood, of course. We each have our duties. But- I'd love it if you came along."

 

[Cordé Sabo]

They were relentless in the most opposing ways. Each time she pulled away, he pulled her back in, again and again like an ocean tide or the ebbing pangs of an addiction. The worst part about it was each time she was drawn back, her will to resist eroded.

Cordé almost entirely lost it when she heard him say the L-word. It wasn’t to her, of course, but it was in the context of her. And it leapt out from the sentence like a surprise attack that made that fluttering that had been temporarily doused rear up again. She was almost deaf to anything else, and it took her a few seconds to compose herself enough to give him a response.

Not the response he was looking for, but one of the most honest responses she’d ever delivered.

“I can’t give you an answer right now.” It was clear he wasn’t going to allow her to continue dodging the subject with her typically inconclusive statements or redirections. The clearest she could be was to share her uncertainty.

She was supposed to leave tomorrow, and avoid all the things that had been set in motion on Dantooine. Her work here was finished, but spending time drifting through space with someone she was fighting every urge against — seemed like a bad idea. The worst idea. Plus, she still wasn’t sure how she felt about the whole helping-him-take-a-baby-and-bring-it-back-to-his-Force-cult thing. And if she were around that for an extended period of time, it might unravel her entirely. In every way.

Within the timeframe Sion Lorray gave, the town fell away to nothingness. They left behind the smell of fish with the little storefronts and motifs of civilization.

As they approached, she checked once over her shoulder, and then peered ahead. She didn’t have her HUD on her, but as far as the naked eye could see, they were in solitude. No patrols.

Yet.

“Hold on,” she murmured when they were approaching that hard right. It was a superfluous command, given he had yet to let go of her, but she said it nonetheless just before adjusting the throttle and banking hard toward the ground to meet the demands of the turn.

The homestead revealed itself as a distant shape, one that quickly grew with the unencumbered speed of their bike. She made an effort to switch gears to reduce the sound.

It might have been invasive, but she parked somewhere that looked like a backyard scrap heap. Somewhere unobvious if company did come out this way.

When the bike was fully off, Cordé hesitated and stared at the knob for a few seconds. She was entirely following his lead for this mission, given it was his to execute and she didn't agree with the modus operandi, but through all the convolution of her feelings toward him, the operation, all of it, the split was gnawing at her.

"Sion, before we go in there.. what do you think.." Her timing could have been worse, but it could have been better: "Theoretically, which is more unnatural? Removing a child from their family because they have a gift, or removing that child's gift so they can remain with their family?"