Private Stranded Lights

[Maeve Linahan]

"No, but keep talking like that and I'll hit yours," she mumbled, resting her head against the redwood, hair drying by the hair. She drifted not long after.

Maeve rested surprisingly well. No nightmares came to haunt her that night, not like they usually did, and she woke to a glimpse of morning light. The fire had since died down, no more than a few weak embers now, and she saw Cale sitting comfortably on the other side, still somehow awake.

She immediately glared at him. "You didn't wake me."

Maeve stood up, restful but irritated. He should've woken her halfway through the night, let her take guard while he slept, but now that it was dawn, he'd barely have time to rest.

"The one time I try to be nice," she sighed. Pushing back her hair, she began tying it up in a long braid. "You're going to regret not letting me take watch. Now that it's day, we need to start moving." She pointed at him. "You can rest when we find civilization."

It was cold of her, perhaps, but she was still feeling irritated at him letting her sleep for as long as she had. Even though it was kind of him.

With a huff, Maeve stamped out the remnants of the fire and started trotting deeper into the forest. "Come on. I'd rather not linger in one place any longer than we should."

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

"No, I did not." Cale answered, eyes lingering somewhere beyond Maeve, lost in the thick of the woods. In truth he'd expected worse, the biting remarks rather tame with all things considered. Cale counted it a victory.

"That was you being nice? Huh, I suppose that makes sense." He flashed a wry smile as he stopped his distant staring and met her eyes and pointed finger. He probably would regret the gesture, but it was so much more entertaining to play it off as though it had been nothing, that he'd be all but unphased. He thought of something wise-sounding that might've been said by some wrinkled old Jedi who'd lived as many years as he was supposed to, "The Force will give me all the vigor I need, Knight Linahan."

Cale was sure to add the croak of age to his drawl, just for added effect.

He stood himself up, and absently slung his still-damp jacket over his shoulder, his face twisting into a scowl as his nearly dry shirt became wet once again. Cale said nothing, only fumed for a few seconds, then took in a deep breath and sighed. "Fairly certain there isn't much in the way of civilization for a while, it could be smarter to stay here." He noted, before giving an absent shrug. "But if you wanna walk, let's walk."

So long as she left what he'd said last night alone.

Maeve Linahan ​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve rolled her eyes at him. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a laugh. "Tell me that when your stomach starts rumbling. The Force barely gave you the vigor to make the swim here. I doubt it'll sustain you now."

She'd heard about Jedi who could live solely off the Force for months at a time, but she just didn't have the time nor skill for that, and she seriously doubted Cale did, either. He could act like an old and wise Jedi Master all he wanted. End of the day, he was just like any other man.

Well, maybe not entirely. Cale had his merits.

Still, watching as he slid on his damp jacket, Maeve planted her hands on her hips at his next words. "Is that your brilliant suggestion? Stay here and wait for help to turn up? That could days, weeks—and I'm not one for waiting."

Patience was never Maeve's strong suit. The same went for accepting help. She refused to be a damsel in distress. If anything, she was going to find her own way off this planet, whatever it took, so without another word, she turned back around to start their long journey north...

...before she immediately came face to face with a group of armed natives.

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

“Oh believe me you’ll be the first to know, griping is my favorite pastime.” Cale flashed a wide, taunting grin, and tried to ignore the poorly timed rumble in his stomach. They’d have to figure out food as they moved anyway, Cale was sure she was just as hungry as he was. They’d figure that out further along though, for now he contented himself with arguing about the best course of action to take with her.

He had a rather sharp response in mind for her rebuke, one he was sure might get something of a rise out of her. Cale enjoyed her company more than he’d have admitted openly, but the impulse to be combative ran deep. The intervention of the natives changed his mind.

It was the crack of a twig that drew his eyes to them just as Maeve had turned to begin moving, Cale’s hand trembled for half a heartbeat as he debated calling the saber to his hand and dispatching the threat. That wasn’t the Jedi way though, it wasn’t his way. At least not anymore.

“Well, waiting was going to be my suggestion,” Slowly he raised up his hand, spreading his fingers wide to show he was unarmed and had no intention of changing that. He didn’t know if they spoke basic, or if they were even going to be open to anything but violence. In the end, Cale and Maeve were intruders, and sometimes it was safer to shoot first and ask questions later when dealing with those. “But let’s see what our friends here suggest we do.”

Cale smiled as warmly as he could, inclining his head towards the natives in greeting, hoping desperately that a new hole wouldn’t be punched into him the next instant.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve also resisted the urge to call her lightsaber.

Still hidden up her sleeve, she could easily ignite it and start cutting through the armed strangers before they could even blink, but Cale's… calmer response managed to stay her hand. Better not to start slaughtering the locals on their first meeting.

Reluctantly, Maeve mimicked Cale and raised her hands. No smile though, of course. Even surrounded and outnumbered, she wouldn't stoop that low.

"Who are you?" a voice snapped, surprisingly in accented Basic. A young woman with an old, Republic-era rifle stepped forward, aiming it between Maeve and Cale. Dark tattoos bled down her neck, around her arms, and her eyes were colored almost black. Human, but not quite.

"Unlucky tourists," Maeve answered. "Our ship crashed."

The woman scowled, her grip tightening on the rifle, threatening to fire at any moment. "Lies. Denth sent you, didn't he? You are off-worlder spies!"

Maeve deadpanned. "Er, what?"

The young woman turned her rifle to Cale. "Speak the truth! Why have you come here?"

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

"For a romantic getaway, obviously." Cale answered dryly, his expression deadpan. He'd been unable to resist the compulsion to speak sharply, Cale hoped that wouldn't be the end of him. He recognized the rifle, but he didn't know the eyes. Some near-human species he'd likely read about and long since forgotten. Eyeing the weapon and the way the woman's grip tensed on it, he decided against further provocations.

"She's telling the truth though, we crashed here, look at us. We don't know who Denth is, or who you're supposed to be. How about we lower the guns, and maybe we can help each other out?" He switched to diplomacy with practiced efficiency, his voice softening, his expression doing the same. Maeve hadn't gone for her weapon, and the natives hadn't opened fire either. There was still a chance to avoid violence.

"Tell us who this Denth fella' is, might be we can take care of 'em for you, if you'd be willing to help us make a call to our friends. Me and my partner here are real good at solving problems."

Cale could only hope that that woman would be intrigued enough to lower her gun, and that Maeve wouldn't object too harshly to whatever it was Cale was potentially getting them into.

Maeve Linahan ​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

The woman didn't catch onto Cale's sarcasm. She merely noted his retort with a dry stare and bit back, "Well, you and your 'wife' chose a very poor place to vacation to, then."

Maeve attempted to interject. "Wife? Oh, no, we're—"

"Enough talk." The young woman glared between her and Cale for a painfully long moment. Just when Maeve thought she should resort to violence, the woman lowered her weapon slightly, not enough to show trust, but it at least eased the tension in the air.

"Alright. I don't detect any lies in your voice and you both do look uncivilized enough to have come from a ship crash, but don't think that means you're off the hook." The woman shouldered her rifle, though the other locals didn't seem so eager to disarm. "You say you can help us, but I doubt it."

"You two barely look like you could take on a bantha," she added, pointing between Maeve and Cale. "She looks like a porcelain vase—easy to break—and you say you can lend us a hand, but you've only got one! What can a one-armed man and a glowering housewife possibly do?"

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

“Wife? Force, Maeve don’t you think we’re moving a little fast?” Cale lamented with false concern, hoping she was as flustered as he was amused. When the woman challenged their ability to solve problems, Cale decided that now was as good a time as any to play their hand.

He’d forgotten the subtleties of the Shadows a long time ago, he preferred the direct approach these days.

His saber flew from his back and into his waiting hand, the blue blade of the lightsaber springing to life with a flick of his thumb. If the natives made a move he’d be ready, but more than that he counted on Maeve being faster with the force than they’d be on the draw. It was a gamble, but one he felt safe taking.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you that appearances can be deceiving?” The Jedi Master asked, an almost petulant grin across his face.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve glared at him. "I swear to the Light, Cale, say another word…"

She let the threat hang. Of course Cale would start teasing her, even in a time like this. It made her want to smack him upside the head. Worse, it made the tips of her ears burn and a muscle in her jaw twitch, leaving her more embarrassed than usual. Why?

Maeve ignored the thought. As she felt a shift in the Force, she turned and found Cale calling the lightsaber hidden in his outfit. Part of her wanted to tell him to stop, to stay discreet, but too late. He ignited it, casting the trees surrounding them in a glorious blue.

Surprisingly, the move didn't end in bloodshed.

The locals stepped back in shock, then awe. Even the blustering young woman stumbled away, her face marred by surprise. "You… you're a Jedi!" she exclaimed. "Stars protect us."

The woman bowed her head and the others followed. One by one, they signed to the sky, nodding, admiring the light of Cale's blade. Meanwhile, Maeve watched beside him, rolling her eyes. On one hand, he'd blown their cover, but on the other, he'd been completely justified in doing so—if the locals were going to shoot them before, they certainly wouldn't now.

"Please, let us take you back to our settlement. We can offer you food and fresh clothing, and whatever else you may need, if you are truly here to help."

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

The lightsaber’s blade collapsed back into the hilt with another flick of the ignition, and Cale returned the weapon to its place on his back. Quietly he exhaled, releasing the tension he’d held within as he gambled with their lives. It had worked out, but he was sure he’d get an earful for it later. He probably deserved it too.

“We’re Jedi ma’am, we’re always here to help.” It hadn’t always been that way, and in truth it likely still wasn’t. Cale had a fondness for the ideal though, and saw no reason not to strive for it.

He’d seen the reaction in the faces of the natives, and something about the wonder elicited by a lightsaber made him feel small. Cale had been across the stars, to every corner of the galaxy, he’d fought great wars, saved lives, destroyed others, been beyond time and space themselves, and there were still places where Jedi were more myth than reality. The galaxy and everything in it continued to be a wonder. He supposed it was the little things that made it all worthwhile.

“Come on dear,” He turned to Maeve, the same self-satisfied grin on his lips once again. “Let’s not keep our hosts waiting.”

Cale walked on, both satisfied with his teasing, and in his assumption that the further he pushed the bit, the more she’d fixate on that rather than his slip of the tongue the night before. Classic smoke and mirrors, perhaps he hadn’t lost all his Shadow tricks.

Maeve Linahan ​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"Of course we can help," Maeve said. "Lead the way."

The young woman nodded gratefully, then motioned the others to head out. They turned back into the forest, but before Maeve could follow, she threw Cale an annoyed look. "You are not funny," she said, and elbowed him in the side. That would teach him.

With that, Maeve trailed after the locals, eager for proper shelter and a warm meal, even if she couldn't smother the angry flush that climbed her neck.

The hike didn't take very long. After a half-mile east, she managed to glimpse a smattering of houses between the trees, or what looked like a farming village, ringed by pools of water. Krill farmers? Spotchka brewers?

She couldn't tell, but already she could hear the distant laughter of children, villagers gathering to see the return of the armed group. It seemed like what you'd expect from any backwater settlement.

She and Cale crossed the empty field to the village, where the young woman with the rifle was met by a hunched, older lady, also dark-haired and black-eyed, with tattoos swirling on her neck. They spoke an unintelligible language, arguing and pointing back and forth to Cale. The older woman didn't sound particularly pleased.

Minutes later, the elderly woman approached the Jedi Master. She looked at Cale head to toe, dismantling him with an icy glare, before she grabbed his one hand and looked at his palm, as if to give a fortune reading. She huffed and squinted her eyes.

"Jedi, huh?" she said. "You look more like another farmer to me."

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

“I’m hilarious, you’re just no fun.” Cale countered, gritting his teeth as the elbow caught him sharply in the ribs, though he still put on a wry grin just for her. The world was a peaceful place when it wasn't in the midst of a furious storm. As they walked, he listened as birds sang in the trees, watched children play in fields of soft green grass, and people smiled at one another as they went about their daily chores. The air smelled of morning dew and whatever the staple crop of the village was. It wasn't unpleasant; in fact, it was almost relaxing.

Some would've called the village a backwater, himself included once upon a time - but now he called it serene.

As they weaved between the huts, Cale followed behind the woman who'd led the group who stumbled onto them, though not closely. The Jedi Master took his time, smiling and waving, even lifting up the bowl of a lazing akk dog with the force, bewildering the pet and enthralling the young boy who'd been out to feed it. He laughed, a warm smile tugging at his lips.

"This place isn't so bad." He remarked absently to Maeve.

Entering what he presumed was the village elder's home, Cale let the first woman's elder take a measure of him. He let her take and turn his hand and let out a soft chuckle at her assessment. "It's like I told her," He nodded to the native woman who'd brought them to the village, "Appearances can be deceiving. 'Sides, farming is a two-handed job most times."

Cale glanced back at Maeve, trying to gauge her thoughts on the situation, before turning back to the elder.

"We're told you've got a problem named Denth. Would you be so kind as to fill us in?"

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"It smells," Maeve said curtly, her nostrils flaring at the village around them. There were too many children, too. A few of them even inched closer, giggling and whispering, trading looks between the two Jedi. One glare from her sent them scattering.

As they entered the village elder's home, a hut constructed from smooth wood and grass, Maeve was immediately hit with the scent of tea and incense. Old people smell. She surveyed the room, noticing a few cushioned seats and a low table in the center, where the old woman sat at the head after her blunt examination of Cale.

Maeve didn't sit. She was fine standing.

"Well, farmer or not, if you are here to help, we will take what we can get," the elder said, and with a wave, gestured the others to leave. The younger woman hesitated, but obeyed, trailing out with the armed men outside, leaving Maeve and Cale alone.

After an awkward silence, the old woman poured out two cups of tea, offering them to sit.

"Denth is a off-world bastard," she said calmly, without so much as a flash of anger, but Maeve could sense the anger inside her, the disgust. "He came here, much like you did, landing in the hills east of here. I don't know how, but he learned to control the wildmen who lived there, and he has since made a small force of them."

"The wildmen now have grown to terrorizing us with weekly raids and demands of tribute. We are barely able to grow enough crops for ourselves, and now... we face starvation."

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

Cale fought back a chuckle at the idea that Denth had landed much like they had, as he doubted, he'd smacked into the ocean in the midst of a maelstrom. Instead, he listened, his eyebrow lifting up at the mention of Wildmen and Denth's mysterious control of them. Cale looked to Maeve for a moment, then back to the elder. It sounded like either the Wildmen weren't so wild or that this off-worlder had some gift that let him enthrall lesser beings. Or maybe the creatures were just sentient enough to be weaponized. He supposed they'd find out.

"Sounds like a real piece of work." Cale sighed, placing his hand on his chin, quickly thinking through the options available to them. There was only one that came to mind, and depending on Denth's schedule, Maeve wasn't going to like it. She'd be alright. "When's the next collection?"

They'd wait for them, they'd decimate them, and the ones they left would take them back to the others. If they were lucky, the next raid would be that very day, and they could perhaps be back in orbit by nightfall; if not, they'd have to be patient. Cale had gotten around to learning that lesson, but Maeve hadn't.

Perhaps it would be for the better if they had to wait.

Maeve Linahan ​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"A real piece of shit, that's what," the old woman muttered.

Maeve cocked an eyebrow, a little surprised by the elder's choice of wording. It was like looking into a mirror. "I think I can agree with that."

As for Cale's suggestion, well, she wasn't so sure. Luring the wildmen into an ambush at the village was a sound plan, but that meant risking the villagers, too. She would've preferred marching right for Denth's camp, wherever it was, before wreaking havoc and sending them scattering back into the hills. It just made more sense to her.

Then again, she always was a bit reckless for a Jedi.

"The wildmen should be returning this evening," the village elder said. "We often leave out containers of krill and rice for them to take, but with a Jedi at our side, perhaps we could send them off this time… mhm, yes…"

The old woman rubbed her chin and smiled. "We can spend the day making preparations. I will inform Reina about our plans and she will ready the others. As for you two, I'm sure you could benefit from a warm meal and a change of clothes. You positively reek."

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

“Then tonight will be the last time these Wildmen ever bother you, on Denth’s account anyway. Judging by the name they sound like they’ve been problems for a while.” Cale gave a respectful bow of his head to the elder. “And thank you for your generosity.”

Cale was hungrier than he was ready to admit, and could smell the mildew on his half-dry clothes. A meal, a nap, a shower, all sounded more divine than anything money could have ever hoped to buy. He sighed, rolled his shoulders, and wondered if some twist of fate would come along before he got the chance to indulge in the village’s hospitality.

He looked to Maeve, and the same wry smile from before crossed his features once again.

“Hear that Knight Linahan? You’re stinking the place up.” Cale teased, as though he were any better, and stepped back outside into the fresh morning air.

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"Keep talking, Cale, and it'll be your corpse stinking it up," Maeve retorted, eager to elbow him in the gut again. Him and his endless teasing. She'd never known a man to be both so dependable and aggravating at the same time.

As they returned outside, greeted by morning light and spring air, the village elder waved over the younger woman from before—Reina, it seemed—and spoke with her about the plan for this evening. Reina blinked, throwing a surprised look over to Maeve and Cale, then nodded.

"Well," Reina said. "You've got more guts than I gave you credit for. Maybe you really are Jedi. Come with me. We've already got a place set up for you."

The woman led them away from the hut and towards another, also constructed from wood and with a thatched roof. Not as large, but it was just as cozy looking, with curtained windows and a fur rug sprawled inside, as well as a secluded room with a single bed.

Wait a minute. A single bed?

"It's a good thing you're both together. This is the only place we've got available, but you can find a change of clothes for both of you on the bed. The shower doesn't use much hot water, but take as long as you need." Reina sniffed and her nostrils flared. "Maybe longer."

The woman turned and left. When she did, Maeve gave Cale a look. "Not. A. Word."

She could only thank Ashla that she was already fully rested, else if they both had to rest, she would've made him sleep on the floor.

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

“Oh come on.” Cale choked back a laugh, eyes going from the lone bed to his ever-more irritated companion. “The jokes write themselves.”

He gave Maeve a playful, half-hearted shove with his palm, then walked to the simply made bed to gather up the garments meant for him as best as he could with one hand. Cale was desperately trying not to hug any of the fresh clothes against his stinking ones, for fear of ruining them too.

“I’ve got first shower.” He didn’t leave any room to argue, and stepped into the next room. Cale spent the next five minutes cursing, fumbling with the knobs of the shower, trying to sort which was hot and which was cold, before eventually figuring it out and stepping into the steaming water.

“So dearest, what do you think of our little get away?” Cale called out with an almost boyish edge to his teasing, a grin so wide it could be heard in his voice. “This Denth character, how do you think he’s swayed these wildmen? Money? Spice? The force? Tell me what you think we’re dealing with.”

Maeve Linahan

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve scoffed and rolled her eyes at his playful shove. Had it been anyone else, she would've smashed them through the wall, but she was feeling merciful today. No reason to kill him. Yet.

She didn't make much of an argument when he claimed the shower first. After giving her so much time to rest, he deserved it, but hearing him fumble and curse in the other room made her wonder if he needed help. She stood up briefly, then stopped. What was she thinking, trying to walk in on him?

Flushing angrily, she sat back on the bed and waited, checking her own outfit.

"With you around, I'm starting to find this place cramped and suffocating, but I appreciate you asking," Maeve replied as he showered. She lifted one of the clothes up for her to see—a plain, white dress and red shawl—nothing befitting of a Jedi, but it was better than nothing.

"However Denth has earned the support of the wildmen doesn't matter. We're going to cut through them the same way." Lightsabers didn't discriminate, and a Sith castaway or a rich warlord would make no difference. "If I had to say, though, I wager it's none of the above."

"These wildmen must be mindless brutes. All it probably took was a little cunning and charm to unite them together, and Denth probably has both." She folded the dress back onto the bed. "Not that you'd understand, of course. You couldn't even charm a tauntaun."

Maeve smiled a little at that. She could tease him, too. "What about you? Do you feel the Force telling you any different?"

Cale Gunderson​

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[Cale Gunderson]

“I’ll have you know I’ve been known to be exceedingly charming.” Cale made mock protest as he scrubbed himself down, washing out sand and grime from the past day’s unfortunate events. Maybe he had been a people person once, he didn’t recall having any trouble with learning what he needed to before the One Sith. He’d been so young though, perhaps his mind was just failing him.

Quietly he chuckled at the notion.

“The force tells me that we’re meant to be here, even if I never should’ve let you fly. Beyond that, it is silent.” He just couldn’t help himself. “I think you might be right though. If he were Sith or Dark Jedi he’d have already made bolder moves than simple extortion.”

Cale finished up and dried off quickly enough, not wanting to deprive Maeve of the warm water. The clothes he’d been given were simple, tough tan pants and a plain blue shirt. Not his usual garb, the shirt in particular was going to be a problem. It had buttons up the front, one’s that try as he might, were quite impossible to manage with a single hand. He felt his cheeks burn hot in that moment, as he realized what was going to be required of him.

“Maeve,” The Jedi Master called out, shouldering the door open, the shirt open, half sliding off where his other arm should’ve caught it. “I-uh, need a hand.”

The beard hid his embarrassment well, but nothing hid the scars. The arm had looked worse once, but it had been made as presentable as it could be, it was his torso that bore the worst of it. Wicked burns and twisting gouges spread across his body, sabers, lightning, blasters, shrapnel, so many things that had brought him close to the end and left their marks as proof. He didn’t like this, it made him feel strangely vulnerable, Cale just hoped that she’d find some humor in his predicament instead of a cause for disgust, or worse, sympathy,

Maeve Linahan