Private Sacred Heart

[Finley Dawson]

Nar Shaddaa may now be under the jurisdiction of the Concord, but the Smuggler's Moon remained a criminal hive, smarter offenders of the law just got better at hiding their dirty deeds. The harsher the light, the longer the shadows. Perhaps there were no more open slave markets or large scale urban wars between gang leaders as well armed as militaries, but was still rife with lesser crime.

Already in the thirty minutes since he had departed from the Moonshine, four different pickpockets had tried in vain to swipe him. Perhaps even more had a go at Sadira, but they weren't just looking for some credits when they came at her. He trusted the Padawan to keep her wits about her, but if not, then it became a learning experience about the importance keeping track of the goods.

"It's lovely here as always," he sarcastically reported to her as they rounded a corner. "Almost like home."

On a superficial level, the congested ecumenopolis reminded him of the urban centers of Old Corellia, but Nar Shaddaa had its own special flare, like an obsession with giant neon projections and endless rows of floodlights. Necessary to cut through the smog. Everything the neon lights touched took on a gaudy quality. On the other hand, Old Corellia had more of a rough industrial aesthetic, once possessing endless acres of shipyards and general manufacturing plants.

He checked his chronometer. "We're actually early for the rendezvous - good time to grab something to eat. Have you ever had a hot dog?"

Sadira Valen

 

[Sadira Valen]

Wearing simple, civilian clothing for once had Sadira naively believing she would be left undisturbed as they made their way through the claustrophobic and, if she were being honest, filthy streets of Nar Shadaa. How wrong she had been. There was nothing on her person that implied she was worth stealing from, and yet half a dozen times now she'd fended off an uninvited hand.

It wasn't until the third time that she began to wonder what they were aiming for, since she had nothing particularly inviting near her backside. On the fourth offence, she started to realize that it might very well be her backside itself.

By the time Finley asked her about food, she was struggling to keep a scowl off her face, and following so close to him that she nearly bumped into him whenever he'd slow his pace. If they paused for any reason, she'd turn her back to him--because then no one could reach--and fold her arms across her chest.

"Hot dog...?" She fired in an unusually clipped tone, and then took a small breath. "I'd prefer not to eat dogs...but it's better than not knowing what you're eating at all."

Well, it answered his question easily enough. Sadira had clearly never eaten a hot dog.

"Will there be chairs? A chair would be nice..." She added on a much calmer note. Pretending not to be bothered, though she wasn't enjoying her time here in the least. The glaring lights were everywhere, the air was unclean enough that she swore she could taste the toxic dust, and if one more grubby hand touched her...well, it's best she didn't continue that thought. Nothing positive would come from it.

Finley Dawson

 

[Finley Dawson]

Oh no...she had really thought he meant dogs. He smirked in amusement.

"It's not dog meat if you're worried about that. They're just cheap sausage links." He purposely failed to inform her that the slang 'hot dog' had carried on from ancient delicts of Basic, probably coming from the accusations of using canines long long ago from wherever humans originated. "Usually low grade meat like connective tissue is grinded up. I can't say what exactly is in one, but I imagine if it was anything bad then a vendor would quickly be out of business."

When they spoke, he naturally shifted from the front to her side for a more natural conversation. That's when he noticed how tense she was. Even in normal street clothes, everything about her expression and stance screamed "I don't belong here".

Another Jedi "lifer" - another kid who had raised by the Silver Jedi. It left her sheltered. That's where her master would have come in, but he was gone. For now, Finley had taken upon himself to show her the streets. Day to day, this was the "office" for most Knights and Masters.

"You got to loosen up, Princess, and try to look like you belong." He reached out, slowly but firmly reeling her in by a hand on her waist. "And stop following me like a lost puppy. Relax and trust in your abilities, we've been through much worse."

After crash landing on a planet full of man eating fauna that could swallow a person whole, Nar Shaddaa was a Sunday stroll.

Sadira Valen

 

[Sadira Valen]

Ah, so there was no actual dog in the hot dog. Well, that was nice to know. How misleading. She was less interested in the details of this street food than she was the streets themselves, nevertheless. Eyes peeled and drifting over the crowd filtering around them. Acutely focused on anyone who came suspiciously close to her, which was comical, because in such a busy city, the kind of personal space she was used to simply didn’t exist.

Then he said the dreadful words: Low grade...connective tissues…

Frowning slightly, she spared him a glance. “Maybe I was wrong. Sometimes it’s better not to know, I guess. If you think they’re good…why not? I’ll try anything once.”

Brave words for Padawan that was having a hard time adjusting to a less than savory city that frankly used to be much, much worse, but she meant it.

Then he called her one of the worst things he possible could. Princess.

Truly, how dare he?

The cool concentration cracked, and her expression rippled faintly as her ego stirred. “I— There have been at least—” Jaw flexing, she struggled to find the most compelling retort. After a moment of steamy bumbling, she let out a small laugh…mostly at herself.

“Easy for you to say. I don’t see anyone touching your behind.” This would imply she’d been watching his behind in the first place.

In all seriousness, this environment wasn’t one she was used to. Throw her into the wilderness with wide open spaces or ancient ruins, and she’d feel right at home. As difficult and uncertain as their last botched mission together had been, it was much closer to her natural element. A place like Nar Shadaa made her feel like a fish out of water. But that was exactly why she needed to be there.

“Anyway… Let’s go eat these hot dogs. I’ll try not to follow you like a lost puppy...though I’m not sure your hand got the memo.” She smirked and shifted against his arm. More relaxed than she was a moment ago. Relaxed enough to tease him a little in return, at least.

Finley Dawson

 

[Finley Dawson]

Finally Sadira seemed to loosen up. At this point she still stuck out, but now at least she was trying. It was a good thing that the pair had arrived early so that they could acclimate to the environment. Even for Finley, a city slicker from the Core, it took him a minute to immerse himself within flood of billions packed on the moon. It was easy for a Force Sensitive to get lost within the maelstrom, but also lose themselves.

"You must have been studying my posterior quite intently to notice," he teased back. He let his arm fall slack from her side, but he still remained close as if they were a couple.

Scanning the streets, it didn't take long to find a hotdog stand on one of the street corners, this one manned by a portly Besalisk. With four arms, the vendor could simultaneous prepare dogs for his customers with two arms, serve them with the third, and wave around a scattergun with the fourth.

"Wew" he whistled. "Four arms sure comes in handy."

If there was a tip jar for bad puns, then he would have offered up a couple credit chits already. Instead he practically skipped off with Sadira, lining up behind a customer. For the fifth time, yet another pickpocket tried to swipe him, but this time, with a single thought the would be thief's belt came loose and their baggy pants immediately dropped. Tripping over themselves in surprise, the shiny spoils of previous swipes scattered across the sidewalk from their pants, which initiated a small tussle with competing pickpockets and other unscrupulous characters.

That should keep them occupied for a while.

"Mmm, the sign says 100% Nerf meat." he read softly to Sadira. "Now, which bits of the nerf are probably going to remain a mystery, but at least there are no doggy bits. At least, according to the sign. So, make the first order. Whatever catches your eye. My treat."

There were many options to choose from, starting with a basic link and bun to works with topping like nerf chili and cheese (like product).

Sadira Valen