Private Some Nights

[Drifter]

“Oh do you?” Drifter felt the press of that blaster tip against his belly. At point-blank, it would be very difficult to dodge, if impossible. The Terentaktek leather did wonders for helping a glancing lightsaber strike from getting to his skin. Combined with the songsteel plates, it afforded reasonable protection from blaster shots if Sia had been pointing at the grey-blue metal. Unfortunately, she managed to pick a place that could very well give him a painful new hole in his hide.

She is going to shoot you.

Sigh.

Just force her to her knees.

You would say that.

“I’d have to say that there is one woman in the galaxy that can make that claim; and you are most definitely not my mother.” a pause, “she’s short you see.. About yay high, “ he carefully indicated to a spot just below his chest, but away from the blaster she was so happy to shove in his gut.

Don’t make me do it.

The voice went curling in the back of his ear. Drifter could feel Cameron shifting, moving. Slithering around trying to garner control. Some Sith would love to say they got possessed by a powerful Sith Lord.

For Drifter, it was just annoying to have his uncle in his head all the damn time.

“While I love discussing how your prejudice against anyone who uses the Force is a Sith is mildly concerning,” That polarized helm drew closer, staring down at Sia, letting her see the reflection of her own passionate dive into the temptation of the Darkside. How it would tighten the angles of her face, how it would color the determination in her eyes.

“If there is any Sith around here -- just by the way you are acting...that just might be you.”

 

[Rhea]

Rhea’s whole expression snapped, his words hitting a place she never looked twice at. There was a reason she ran. A reason she kept moving. And it all started the moment she had awoken.

Her grip faltered, her whole stance recoiling from the reflection he shone back at her.

 

[Drifter]

Interesting.

Shut up

Drifter wasn’t one to ignore an advantage. Especially one that ensured that he would avoid getting an extra hole in his hide. He already had to deal with getting his arm blown up. He didn’t need another reason to have to go back under the knife.

His movements were deft, the Force surging through his veins, enhancing his speed as he made the attempt to disarm Sia — without either of them getting an extra bolt in the gut.

Should he succeed, his fingers would move to ensure the safety was snapped on and that the muzzle was pointed away from anyone. While he never had military training, it was clear he had some sort of combat training that only enhanced his motions with the use of the Force. It was a testament of his bloodline from his father's side; the unique combination of his family’s Force legacy. All of his siblings had a high Force potential; it just so happened that it manifested in different ways. For Drifter, it revolved around Force imbuement and his speed.

“You know, you really shouldn’t point at anything you don’t intend to shoot.” He’d say in passing commentary, noticing that he’d struck a nerve. Jokes were his way of dealing with things. Even if it wasn’t in his best interest.

 

[Rhea]

There were many words Rhea would have upon finding herself disarmed, none of them pleasant. But the speed at which he moved and the words he impressed on her had been the perfectly little concoction for stopping her short and overpowering the now retired soldier. For a moment he had her doubting. Self reflecting. Questioning her paranoia and grasping for a spell that if she was wrong then these actions just might be extreme. Out on the field there was often very little time to break something down and think. Only reacting, protecting, preventing threats from getting past your guard. This moment, when broken down, was nothing more than that to her. And the engrained response was very hard to pull out of.

Her fingers gripped desperately at the hilt of the weapon, her arms twisted awkwardly as he would find she was unwilling to release it all together. A semblance of control was maintained, the woman trying to pin his own fingers down. Keep him off the trigger.

Being disarmed from your own weapon was practically shameful, and to have it paired with the sith accusation and then his final joking words…

Her lips pinched, her elbow swinging up in an attempt to smash him right in the visor.

Sith or not, it would still feel good. That and he’d have to take it or give up the gun.

“You talk a lot, you know that?”

 

[Drifter]

“Good grief, wo—oww!!” The elbow hit him on the visor, pain radiating across his sinuses. Made him think of Nohei; she’d always do these sneaky jabs at him. He could have stopped it had it not been for his attention at trying to take the blaster from her. At least he had her arm at an angle, twisted to the left.

“I know.” He shot back, his voice edged with a dull ache at getting hit. The helm protected his face, but no one liked getting their head rang like a bell.

A sudden shift of weight, the slide of his foot to brace his weight, and then Drifter did his best to clip Sia behind her calves with leg, combining the motion to try and wrestle the blaster from her hand by having her lose her balance.

By now they were garnering more than a handful of spectators. Some were not sure if they should call the security or leave them to their own devices. It was entertaining to say the least.

“You’re angry a lot.”

 

[Rhea]

Both sacrificed to maintain hold of the gun. For Rhea, it became a matter of pure ego not to let her weapon go. She took the hit behind her knees, it sending her down onto the ground. But still, she did not let go. Maybe it was her finger half caught in the trigger or maybe it was strength and pure willpower alone. But wrestling with her was like wrestling with a cobra.

“I have reason to be,” she hissed back.


She flipped up her legs and moved to lock them over his shoulder, trying to once again force him into an arm bar or to give up the gun. “I. Hate. Sith.” Dusty dirt kicked up around her, quickly soiling her travel garb as she squirmed across the ground.

He had this thing on safety, right?

She seemed to check as she moved, grunting at the effort. She might be a little bit rusty. Tinsy winsy.

 

[Drifter]

Kark, she was a stubborn woman! Now they were really drawing in a crowd. Not that Drifter cared; more often than naught, he’d end up horsing around with his sister. The end result was typically a combination of bloody noses and bruises; oh sure they were painful but the point was to be the winner.

Family pride and all.

“Fine!” He yelped out, dust rising around them, the struggle continuing as the she-panther decided to rut around on the ground, legs coming up to try and force him into an armbar along his right shoulder. The only real one he hand left.

“Just stop trying to randomly shoot people!” He demanded, giving a grunt as he saw a leg swing up, tangling him along.

“Would you quit that!” He grunted out, competitiveness at an all-time high. Alright, enough is enough. Using his left arm, he used his arm and the Force to pull her back.

While it wasn’t done with the strength to bruise her, it was firm enough to show that while he could, he didn’t. He just wanted her off him and not fighting him like a Corellian panther stuck in a wet sack. If he hadn't managed to get the safety on, the silly woman might have shot someone already.

 

[Rhea]

“I’m not tryin’a- Ouch!” She gasped, her torso and legs falling to the ground as she was tossed off with surprising strength.

Her grip was wretched from the gun at the motion, the woman left to a scrambling heap as she tried regather herself, brace for an attack, and reach for something in her boot all in one go.

 

[Drifter]

Drifter shook his hand, wringing it as the tight, dull ache went shooting up his arm. That’s what happened when you still had a real arm with nerves that would yell at you when it wasn’t supposed to twist a certain way.

“Blessed Inari, you are one ornery woman!” He gave a flex if his hand, taking the blaster with the other, grimacing under his visor. He made quick work to make sure it was still on safe. Small miracles.

The former soldier might not be able to see his glower, but his body language indicated as much. However, when he caught sight of her, scrambling on the ground, coiling up with all the spitfire of a Dagobah snake, he was amused again.

“Would you please pipe down?!” He wasn’t angry, just exasperated, “No means no, you know. I have high standards!” The jokes would continue,an incredulous edge coating that metallic resonance to his voice.

He properly latched that blaster with an extra magclip on his waist.

“Now I’m highly offended,” he told her, crossing his arm across his chest again. Murmurs grew louder around them, and Drifter panned his gaze at the crowd a slight wave and then he added, looking down at Sia again, “You owe me a chocolate shake. As restitution.”

He wasn’t joking.

 

[Rhea]

Rhea stared up at him in confusion, her nostrils flaring with each breath she heaved to catch. Her fingers remained half curled over a hidden hilt in her boot. With that same methodical, predatorial manner of before, she studied him.

She was no whatchamacall it speaker, but she spoke the language of combat. Her body laid tense for his next move-- A subtle twitch. A small sign that could point towards his next intention.

Instead he put the gun away, desculating the encounter entirely.

Her mind went blank, no answer to be found. Besides, well. The obvious. A sith woulda killed her in a heartbeat. She had witnessed their power.

This wasn’t it.

She panted in place, slowly uncoiling from her crouch. Her mistrustful gaze never left him, it only softened as she cautiously stood back up before him. Her palms splayed empty in front of her, wary of the speed and strength he had shown he possessed. Rhea wasn’t often disarmed or knocked down.

He was someone. Or had been someone. Fuck, she knew that feeling too well.

If he wasn’t a sith, then she supposed he might be a jedi. Funny how she didn’t come to that conclusion at the start. All this ran through her mind in the span of seconds, the woman warily summing him up.

“...I don’t have the credits,” came the quiet reply, the softness of her tone indicating they had reached some sort of neutral territory. Nothing like a good shake down to break the ice?

 

[Drifter]

At that, Drifter gave a rather dejected sigh. His shoulders practically sank, as if he had utterly ruined his day. Of course. No credits. Should have figured, considering that she had trouble haggling a Squib vendor for one rusty fuel pump modulator.

“Should have known. “ he began, lifting his shoulders with a mock exhale of wounded comprehension. “You would try to get out of it by saying you have no credits.”

Seeing as they were no longer at each other’s throats, the crowd that had gathered around them began to disperse. Well, without any sort of bloody entertainment, there was no need to stick around.

Well, at least now she wasn’t trying to wrestle him to the ground anymore. For all of her uppity Sith hating tendencies, she had some skill at least to get him right on the visor and in making him struggle to get that blaster off of her.

The wind seemed to have knocked off her sails. So hopefully she wasn’t going to grab some random sharp object and try to pry a new orifice on him.

Giving another flex and rock of his wrist to stretch out the strain from earlier, Drifter added, “Fine, you can pay with your body.” He indicated nonchalantly, “But I want my chocolate shake.”

With a crook of his finger, the hunter indicated for her to follow, “Come on, pittin… back to that trunk.”

Because there was no way he was letting that lightsaber stay there.

Someone would end up tearing themselves a new nerf herder.

 

[Rhea]

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Whether she trusted him or not, Rhea couldn’t deny that it was in good manners to at least break bread with the enigma of a man. You know. Considering she had nearly shot him. To some it might be surprising how quickly she put the event behind her. But he wasn’t the first tense meeting to start in a fist fight and end with a drink.

He wouldn’t be the last either.

Like I said. Good manners.

Her tense gaze did not leave him as she walked around the speeder as swiped up her pile of spare parts. Wasn’t like this dead beat of thing was gonna go anywhere with them. A cool off in this dusty heat, and then she’d be right back to it.


“Are you a jedi then?” She asked in an attempt at nonchalant, prying open the trunk and placing the bag inside.

 

[Drifter]

“I don’t know, will the lack of answering result in an attempt to stab me?” The quip flew at her with snark filled fluidity. His steps brought him around the speeder, back towards the trunk.

“You seem far too quick to go to the jugular for me, I can’t let you know all my secrets on an empty stomach,” pausing in front of his objective, Drifter stretched out his hand to clasp it around the handle. He gave it a tug. It refused to budge.

Another sigh of mock exasperation. “You and your brute strength, woman,” he told her, giving an exaggerated shake of his head.

A push of the Force with a nonchalant wave of two fingers and the latch groaned as it shuddered open again. “I’m taking this so you don’t get random ideas.” He added, popping the trunk open and quickly attempting to reach for the lightsaber…

You know, in case crazy decided to try and reach for it.

 

[Rhea]

The bag clatted in, the woman jamming the trunk right back down. It was a move it or lose it situation. One that hopefully ended with the lightsaber IN the trunk.

“Nu-uh-uh,” she chastised, the edges of her eyes pinching to hide a real bout of tension. “That’s not yours. You already have my gun and that’s not coming with us. Fingers off. Or I will go for them instead.”

How strange she was so willing to be weaponless before a man she had deemed a threat a mere ten minutes ago.

Of course she was still packing. Not that he’d get to feel up where.

“You want your beer? Start walking. And talking. Where did you learn to do that.”

 

[Drifter]

It was like playing quick hands with a miiyoom flower; fail and you’d end up losing a limb. Drifter barely had enough time to snap his hand away.

“Would you quit trying to take parts of my body off?!” Drifter exclaimed with feint exasperation, half amused and half incredulous at the woman’s constant need for aggression.

He held his hand close to his chest in dramatic form as if expecting Sia to snap out like a Jeco and attack again. As if to counter his protective stance, the hunter immediately leaned forward towards her and quipped,” and oh, so quick to point out that lightsaber isn’t mine but you still want to know where I learned tricks?”

That polarized visor swept over the former soldier from head to toe. Appraising her. Digging deep.

Ah.

It was there. Well, the Force always is. The difference being it swam and swirled around the woman in front of him like an untapped spring. She is Force Sensitive, but untrained. Raw and unrefined.

“It clearly isn’t yours either.” He added, relaxing his stance back to his cock-sure position.

“Also, I said you owe me a chocolate shake. Not a beer. Distinct difference,” he gave a wave of a forefinger in emphasis.

“You also demand a lot of answers without giving a few of your own.” Another wag of his finger, as if in thought. Not like he had to make a wild guess with the scuffle and her attitude. He saw plenty of that while working with the Alliance.

“Let me guess, former ground pounder used to shooting first and asking questions later?” Pause, “ or asking questions then shooting? I’m getting a vibe of both here.”

Enter the sudden waggle of both of his hands in her direction. Yes, spirit fingers.

 

[Rhea]

Rhea’s breath pulled from her lips in a slow stream, the woman kept constantly back on one foot with his antics. She merely shook her head at it all and countered dismissively.

“It’s in my possession, so it’s mine. End of story. What do you care anyway,” she grumbled into the dusty air.

A group spilled out of an eatery, pushing right between the two and forcing them apart. Rhea took advantage of the moment of chaos, though how was unclear. All she was found to be doing was brushing dust off her chest as the crowd dispersed their way into the street.

“How about a compromise,” she offered, taking the door and holding it open for him. He wasn’t getting her back. “For every one of your questions I answer, you answer one of mine.”

 

[Drifter]

Drifter gave a heavy snort, a rock, and shift of his stance indicating that he believed her as much as if she’d said she farts rainbows and spice.

The crowd managed to block his observation of her, but it didn't bother Drifter. If anything, he could either keep a closer eye on her or not care. Ultimately, unless she was about to try and stab someone else, it wasn’t his issue. Sure, the lightsaber would be best placed in an area that someone unskilled wouldn’t harm themselves, but he couldn’t go around playing white knight if the woman wanted to be that stubborn. Drifter learned the hard way he wasn’t anyone’s keeper.

Not quite.

Ugh, would you just quit it?!

Trying his best to ignore his uncle’s presence, Drifter took a moment to eyeball Sia, who was currently holding open a door to a local eatery not far from her rust bucket of a speeder.

Guess she was really that concerned someone might take it. Then again, Squibs could very well claim it was left open for grabs if no one was in sight.

“I don’t know...,” he finally replied, alluding that he wasn’t buying her sudden cordial act. “I’m not apt to disclose my pretty little secrets on an empty stomach and you just said you don’t have credits. I don’t feel the need to spend my hard-earned money on something you owe me for.”

Alright, let’s play a game. Time to see how she’d respond.

“How are you going to get me that chocolate shake?”

 

[Rhea]

Rhea blinked, eying him as the tables turn and he became mistrustful of her in turn.

...Alright, fair enough. But over a milkshake?

She let the door go, the metal hinges swinging shut and closing out the smell of grilling food. All the while the sense of exhaustion seemed to return to her shoulders, this day for too long and complicated for her. And it wasn’t even half over.

“Seriously? Alright, Listen-“ People walked past them, breaking up the conversation as they open the door and spilled inside. She paused for a spare second, then continued once he was back in sight.

“I gotta be honest. I don’t have the time, nor the brain cells today to figure out what the hell you want from me. You’re the one—“ People bursted out, the door hitting Rhea on the shoulder as it swung hard. She stopped short, huffing. The crowd passed, leaving her rubbing at the bump and glowering faintly.

She continued. “You’re the onethat got up on my shit.” Sure she had … nearly shot him afterwards, but frankly he was asking for it.

“People out here dont do those little party tricks without—“ It opened again, a loud, foriegn dialect falling from the mouths of two wide beings. Rhea stepped back to give them space, huffing in frustration. “Listen all I’m saying as, you seemed up to no good, and frankly—“ Two droids beep boobed past them, slowly … working at opening the door.

Rhea’s nostrils flared as she was forced to wait…. wait….

She yanked it open for them, passionately starting again. “Gods be damned, why does everything have to be so difficult today,” she exclaimed. She looked at him, practically pleading he cut the shit.

“I’m tryna give you a fair shot. You have questions? So do I. Buy your own goddamn milkshake, and I’ll talk to you.”

 

[Drifter]

The corner of Drifter’s mouth gave a twitch. By far, this must be the most the woman had managed to say without devolving into threats. Seeing her huff and in disarray amused him.

“I am always serious about chocolate. Especially a chocolate shake.” being a witness to how Sia’s frustration would grow with the incoming and going of the diner’s patron prompted a half snort of mirth.

“Oh yeah, okay -- I’ll give you that,” he added, wagging his forefinger in an acknowledging gesture. “I generally am up to no good.”

“Fine.” he finally gave in, the hunter striding forward to amble through the entrance. “But you are not getting any of my shake.”

There was not going to be any sharing here. Even Drifter didn’t share his cookies with Nohei. Granted, Nohei had a tendency to bake him cookies but that was a minor technicality.

Stepping into the diner brought with it a rush of grilled meat, fried food, and all the loud clatter of patrons stuffing their faces with food. Granted, the breathing mask filtered away all the delicious aromas, but that was okay -- Drifter seemingly had one thing in his mind.

The way that polarized visor swung towards the direction of the droid attendant was all the warning Sia had. With a purposeful stride, Drifter set off to make his order.

[ Welcome to Yum Bunnies Express. How may I assist you, kind customer?]

His hand flew up and a single finger emphasized his objective, “One large chocolate shake!”

A pause.

“With extra fudge!”

 

[Rhea]

Rhea rolled her eyes, leaving him to his object as she turned in a small circle and scooped out the place. She grabbed at seat at the front, peeling up the blinds to keep an eye on her speeder as the waitress droid set up the table for her.

The woman picked at her cutiical, waiting almost impatiently for the man and his shake to make their way to the table. A brow raised, the soldier waiting for the visor to come off. It had to eventually. It was not like he slept in it.

She was deeply curious, despite already ruling him out as a sith. Was he pock marked or smoothing.

“Do you want to start by telling me what you are doing here.” She asked gruffly, jumping right to it.