bakerstreet | star wars au meme

[ Either a bounty hunter or rogue Jedi. ]

[ooc: interested in another thread?]

[ ooc: sure! got anything in mind? ]

[ooc: well, i've got Steve as some sort of long lost Jedi hero. Nate could come hunt him down? Or Steve could be after rogue Jedi Nate?]

[ ooc: oooo those both sound good. but with Steve coming after Nate they could duel with lightsabers so lets go with that. /nerd ]

[The Council simply said he was to bring back a Jedi that had left the Order. They didn't say he had gone Sith but the worry was clear. It would not do to have the secrets of the Order out in the universe either where a former member might sell them or betray them to the Sith.

He found his target on a mostly frozen border planet, well known for mining, smuggling and outlaws. Steve stood out among the crowds even protected from the cold his posture, his clothing, his presence broadcasted Jedi. All eyes turned to him as he walked in to the bar, the murmur of conversation dropping in volume as they looked him over.

He stretched his senses out in to the crowd, looking for the presence of another Jedi among the huddled drinking and gambling masses around him.]

[ Nathaniel had felt Steve before he even walked into the bar. The silence just confirmed it. He didn't need to look over. He just tried to cloak himself from the other Jedi, keeping himself calm and taking another swallow from his drink, downing most of it.

Whether it be luck or just damn good timing, a fight suddenly breaks out at one of the gambling tables. Nate uses that instant to slip off his stool and walk towards the back exit. Running would give him away too easily and he wasn't about to make this easy. ]

[The fight sends a thrill of excitement through the patrons except for one spot of calm and quiet. Steve scans the crowd, spots the one source of sanity in the madness and follows it towards the back exit.

He doesn't want to fight unless he has no other choice but he can't let his target escape. A Jedi couldn't walk away from their oaths so easily. It's quieter outside the bar but Steve has a sense of his target now and he follows easily down the alley.]

[ Nate can feel and hear the other man behind him and he stops, keeping his back to Steve. ]

I'll give you one chance to walk away from this.

I'm not going back.

You knew this would happen when you left.

[He does not stop trailing after his target but moves his hand to rest on the hilt of his lightsaber. He doesn't want to fight but he might not be given a choice.]

Come peacefully, speak with the Council. This doesn't have to end in violence.

[ Nate shakes his head, ]

I warned you.

[ He then opens his hands and pulls them forward, pulling trash and other junk towards Steve from behind. His distraction for the other Jedi as he breaks into a run, disappearing into the maze of back alleys unless Steve can keep up. ]

[He's forced to duck under the wave of trash that rushes towards him, quickly scattering it with a wave of his hand. Then he's up and racing after his target.

He rounds a corner and hurls a wave of force at the fleeing Jedi's feet to knock him down. There are no civilians around so far. He wants to end this before someone stumbles in to their path.]

[ The wave knocks him off his feet but Nate is far to fluid to just fall to the ground. He rolls and sends his own force waves with both hands back at Steve. ]

[Steve's sense of victory is short lived. He leaps over the wave, twisting in midair to draw his lightsaber. The blade cast a white-blue light on the walls around them. He lands on his feet with it held carefully behind him.]

We don't have to do this.

[ Nate doesn't actually want to fight Steve. But he won't be going back willingly. So his lightsaber comes out, too. It shoots out from his belt and into his hand before coming to life, the green light joining the blue. ]

I gave you the chance to walk away. You didn't take it.

You knew the Council would send someone. You knew what would happen.

[He gets up slowly, his attention fully on the rogue Jedi. The attack is coming, Steve doesn't know when but he can read it in every inch of body language and tension in the air.]

Just come with me. The Order isn't perfect but it does good. You don't have to run from it.

[ Nathaniel stands up as well, his look hard and his stance ready to fight. ]

I didn't "run", I left. There's a big difference. I should be free to make my own decisions and not a slave to the Council.

You left without warning, without a reason. If you talk to the Council, they'll listen. You don't have to run like this.

[There's a little part of Steve that takes notice of his choice of words. The Council certainly has changed. He's trying not to doubt but it's strange.]

You know fear is our enemy.

Do I look like I have become a Sith? Do I sound guided by fear?

You're running. That's fear. Just come with me. We can figure this out.

[He holds out a hand, though he hasn't put his lightsaber out, ready to attack if the situation calls for it.]

[Rebellion medi-mechanic.]

[recent rebellion member - hacker]

[rebellion - flight mechanic/pilot]

[Smuggler, Bounty Hunter or Rebellion sniper.]

[~~I'm screaming~~ Rebellion hacker/spy.]

[ Bounty hunter or old school Jedi Shadow. Up in Sith business, killing your bros. Let's roll. PARTY ON NAR SHADDAA, BITCHES ]

[Bounty hunter.]

[ ambassador, senator, or jedi. ]

[Princess Leia's double, rebellion spy and hacker and wife of Rouge Squadron pilot; Tycho Celchu.]

Edited 2015-05-04 19:55 (UTC)

[ Wedge hates diplomatic functions. They are for soldiers who can command an air of nobility, like Tycho. Wedge Antilles is as common as they come: born at a fueling station, surname the galaxy's most common.

But here he is, because Tycho's off doing something else and it's about time the CO had to attend one of these. The food is terrible; the small talk is forced; everyone's wearing at least three X-wings worth of fancy clothes and that angers Wedge on principle.

And now he's sure someone's following him. Not very subtle, these imps. ]

Just keep walking with me. [ He says, wrapping his arm around winter, pretending he cares about the weather outside. The imp continues to follow them, skulking around the corner. ]

[Even though she had spotted Wedge as Rogue Squadron's representative instead of her husband, Winter was there on the request of her dear friend Leia and it was taking all of her training to bite her tongue at some of the things that were being said around her.

The conversation as usually didn't have her complete attention, yes she was listening and gathering information but the white haired woman was also watching for anything untoward like the Imperial making it's way through the throng of people and it seemed she wasn't the only one to notice if Wedge directing her outside was anything to go by.]

Taking him out or taking him in? [Asked softly as she seemingly rested her head on his shoulder lovingly.]

In. [ Wedge pretends to laugh at something Winter's said, hugging her close—there's tension all over his muscles, but it's not visible, only palpable. ] See if anyone else blows their cover. [ The imp's not particularly large, but neither is Wedge. Their chances at success are doubled with Winter's presence.

He's ducking and weaving through the crowd, having to keep up with them. Suddenly, Wedge holds out his hand, asking Winter for a dance. The blaster, attached to a holster on his hip, gleams. Wedge gives a rare smirk.

The imp gets closer. Too close. ]

Understood, Rogue Leader. [Said as she lightly presses her lips against his cheek while taking his hand, it would be easy to keep an eye on the other people in the room while whirling around the dance floor and the imp on his toes to get at the pair of them too.]

I'll follow your lead. [Sure she was trained in combat and firearms but she didn't have the tactical mind that he had, it would be better for Wedge to take the lead than have an innocent injured if a fire fight came about.]

[ spy for the rebellion, also a skilled pilot and fighter. maybe there's a little of the force in her, to account for how well she reads people, but not enough to be a jedi. ]

( It is an impossibility, he and Morse. He knows it well. She is wild, in some ways, uncontrolled. Perhaps not to all, but to compared to the training of a Jedi? Aye. She lacks control. And in turn he wonders if that is what draws him to her, if she sparks that same wildness in him. Attractions come and go, but Morse had been haunting his thoughts for months as they've skirted each other. Attachments should be an exception with the Jedi, rather than the rule. He has given himself to the will of the Jedi and the Force, and instead he finds himself wanting more.

It is not that-- affections are expressly forbidden for Jedi Knights. They are simply not encouraged.

Being sent on a mission with her to gather information is particularly vexing, then, and he wonders that someone did not think better of it. Aye, that he did not voice some objection. )

Bobbi.

( A nod to her, as he tries to evade her for the-- oh, fifth time today, brush her off and focus on not focusing on her, which is going as well as it might sound. )

[ it is impossible, or at least it should be: he is a jedi and not allowed affection, or as far as she knows he isn't and his behaviour certainly seems to confirm that, but at the same time, his gaze lingers on her for too long and his expressions are too complicated for her to believe that there isn't some interest from him anyway.

and then they're assigned on a mission together. ]

Leif. [ she returns the nod, but when his eyes slide away from her almost immediately again, she steps closer instead of keeping her distance.

he's a puzzle, and she's always been intrigued by those. that, and she's - she doesn't know what this is, but she isn't indifferent to him and this isn't purely professional for all that they are both very good at what they do. ] You're evading me.

[ that's stated plainly, a fact. ]

( By the stars, she is an infuriating woman. She hasn't even done anything and it is completely infuriating, because she blocks his path and points out the obvious. )

And if I were, what of it?

( His hands rest atop his light sabre, Leif dropping his gaze away from her. )

Have you some business that requires me? ( His tone is not unkind. He can't be, not to her. Blunt he might be, at times, cold, but never in great measure and never to her. )

[ it's as good as an admission, and for all that he puts his hand atop his light sabre, for all that he cuts an imposing figure, bobbi isn't intimidated. ]

I'm just wondering why.

[ that's with a bit of a head tilt, considering. ] I don't think you dislike me.

( He would never wish her intimidated, which makes it all the worse, in truth.
I don't think you dislike me. Leif laughs softly at that, neither lacking in mirth nor truly in the spirit of it. The sound is quiet, and he shakes his head. )

I carry no dislike of you. Indeed, I hold you in high esteem. ( Quietly, and he lapses into silence for a few moments before bringing his gaze back to meet hers again.

His tone is gentler, almost apologetic. Honesty is demanded, here. ) Too high.

[ he has a nice laugh. that is probably not the kind of thing someone like her should be noticing about someone like him, but he has a nice laugh. ]

Ah.

[ too high - bobbi prides herself in excelling at her work, and sometimes that involves manipulating people, but this hadn't been intended.

the way her stomach feels like it's in freefall wasn't intended, either. ] And that's why you're going out of your way to avoid me.

[ she shouldn't reach for him, but she still does, fingers landing on his arm, resting there lightly. ]

Not out of my way, truly.

( But it's a weak argument, and he almost laughs again for just how weak it was. ) Our order is complex. Emotions are fickle things, can create all manner of jeopardy. They are to be an exception, rather than assumed.

( Her hand on his arm is a comfort, and he wishes he could be angry with her for that, but he is not. Anger is distinctly un-Jedi-like, besides. ) Better to spare you my wanting. We-- work well together, and I would not wish to jeopardise that for feelings both unrequited and that I know not the nature of, in full.

( Love? Simple lust? The latter seems unlikely, with the complexity of it all, and yet he is not a man well-versed in such things. He has always been a Jedi first and a man second. This is new, for him. )

Edited 2015-05-09 00:57 (UTC)

[ it's a weak argument, and the way she looks at him says that she knows it, too. it's weak, and there's really no point in his making that kind of argument at all.

the rest of what he says - that is better. it's honest and telling and she could understand that he tries not to feel out of professionalism, out of regard for his order. she understands duty, even if hers isn't to the jedi first and foremost.

what she cannot let pass is that he thinks it's unrequited, and when he says that - her mouth twists, brows drawing together in a frown. ] Where did you get that idea?

[ the idea that she doesn't want him - that's laughable. ]

( Because it is easier to keep barriers and to be certain that she could not want him in return. If it were an impossibility, then there was no way he could allow himself those feelings, and they could not consume him and burn him. He could not endure it. Not from her. )

Let us consider it a strategy for survival.

( A matter of cowardice, perhaps, it that did not run counter to every part of him. He leans against the wall, and shakes his head. ) For your own, if not mine.

[ cowardice or needless chivalry; bobbi is not a fan of either, and it shows in the way she doesn't let up, stepping forward when he leans back, staying close with her head tipped back, chin up, to look at him. ]

I can take care of myself.

Doubtless you can.

( He could almost roll his eyes at her, straightening up because he refuses to be backed into a corner. )

And of all else? We cannot act so recklessly. I am guilty of favouring you already. I place you ahead of all else.

( That is more than he meant to say, more fire than is wise, letting himself face her more directly. )

[ bobbi shouldn't, she knows she shouldn't push this, but he leaves himself wide open even as he refuses to be backed into a corner. ]

If you place me ahead of all else already, what difference will it make? [ her tone is almost flippant, but her expression - her expression is serious, gaze fixed on his. ]

( His jaw tightens, and he shakes his head, heavily displeased, and he would evade her gaze if he were not so stubborn. Instead he holds it, shifting closer so she can see what a terrible choice it would be to want him - as if she doesn't know him already, has not an understanding of him, as if they have not fought side by side. )

That it is already done does not make it right. That I want of you so much that it would strip my lungs of air does not make my wanting just. Longing is no virtue.

( And he knows it, even as he has scrambled to ignore it and repress it: he longs for her, he wants her, and he cares for her in ways beyond simple camaraderie. )

For now I can remind myself that all must be contained.

( When you used to have Darth as an Honorific and were counted as one of the Sith, maybe it's fair enough that people aren't that comfortable around you. When you are were called the Huntress in scared whispers by the people whose worlds you visited and terrified. It had all felt like some terrible sort of sense, at the time: you were set to avenging the wrongs done them. Not a terrible Sith thought in the first place, when really she should have been content to let them solve their own problems, but that was where the fracturing had begun. Rage and compassion were mixed together in her and always had been, playing into and against each other.

When the man she was partnered with slew a child, she had snapped, in the best and worst of ways. Slaughter for the sake of compassion, and when the rest of their party returned, they had been destroyed by her rage as well. Strange, wasn't it? They had all been taught to harness their anger and their fire, to let it make them stronger. Certainly she had been proved stronger than the rest, but--

She was here, now. An escaped Sith playing at redemption, lightsaber at her side as she leans against the back of Bobbi's chair. Helena doesn't like to be manipulated, she skirts around Bobbi tensely, but there's only so many people who are prepared to give you a chance. It helped that Helena had killed three Sith approaching after they had struck Bobbi with force lightning, but even so, the dynamic was on shaky footing at any given time. )

So. ( Helena Bertinelli: queen of smalltalk. ) What now?

[ formerly a pilot for the rebellion, he's been captured and warped by a sith lord. that sith is dead now, and he's free at least. ]

[ooc: how does something like them meeting again during an attack on a Empire/Sith base sound?]

[ i'd like to keep his experiences at least somewhat similar to tws, so maybe steve could have attacked the base, reminded him of who he used to be and he disappeared after, only for them to meet again, either during another attack or on some planet? ]

[ooc: that definitely fits along the lines of what I was thinking. prose or brackets preference?]

[ brackets all the way ]

[ They arrived to a base suspiciously empty of Imperial troops. As Steve made his way through the halls he could see why. Someone had beaten them here. There was a surprising lack of destruction in the kills. Each one was neat, enough to bring the troopers down and clear a path. The problem was there was no clear sign of who did it and if they were still here.

As he made his way through the halls of the Imperial base he kept his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his lightsaber. If the person was still here he wanted to be ready. A mental search of the area with the Force could tell him but there might be Imperial Siths around who could sense him in return.

His worry was for nothing, though, when he entered what appeared to be the main research area of the base. He hadn't seen him since a battle months ago but he recognized him, he would always recognize him.]

Bucky.

[His hand fell away from his side and he stared, afraid to move, afraid to do anything in case the figment from his past disappeared right before his eyes.]

[ there are days when he remembers who he used to be, before, and there are days when he remembers only who he was after, and there are days when there is only darkness gnawing at the edges of his consciousness, and he is not sure which of these are the best days or if they are all awful, painful in their own way.

what he knows is that he is no longer either of these men. he is not who he was before - bucky - and he is not who he became - an asset, not worthy of a name - and so he thinks back to what the man had called him, james buchanan barnes and he starts forging a new path for himself. sometimes, when he comes across a base or tidbits of information in his memory that lead him to one, he takes his revenge, or maybe the purpose is to keep them from doing it to anyone else, or maybe he's doing it so they won't take him again —

he isn't always so sure on what his motives are.

james is almost done with the task he has set for himself. ( it's a powerful thing, setting his own mission objectives, determining his own targets outside of any stated parameters, and he isn't always good with that kind of power, trusting himself with it, but maybe it's better than trusting anyone else with it. ) the troopers are dead, and he is about to dismantle the systems of the base; it will be useless from now on. he is almost done, and then his instincts warn him that he is not alone, and he whirls around with his pistol drawn.

it doesn't lower, but his finger slides away from the trigger when he sees who he has in his crosshairs. his jaw works, before he gets the word out. ]

Steve.

[ the man had told him his name, the last time he'd met, and he's seen him in memories since. ]

[ a civilian medic who more or less stumbled into helping out the rebellion ]

[ Maybe.... that one minor Imperial bureaucrat you are sure is secretly an Inquisitor. Or official hitman of the Emperor. Or something else equally unpleasant. No one pushes paperwork that perfect if they don't have something to hide.

Ms. Temple, you really should be more discerning with your clientele...

(i have so many other things I should be doing but i can't resist)]

[ hitman with a paperpusher cover sounds great tbh ]

[ There is a knock on the door. Perfectly polite, of course, even if the sounds of a squad of stormtroopers coming to an orderly halt can be heard to those with discerning ears. Wesley takes the moment to straighten the alignment of the peaked corners of his new suit, an understated piece from the finest tailors on Alderaan. Coruscant may be the apex of the empire, but Alderaan was her culture, heart heart—so to speak. Even if Organa had... questionable taste in friends. ]

Miss Temple? A word, if you please.

[ The words are simply spoken, calling through the door, though he steps half to the side of it. Getting shot at through the door of this pitiable little clinic is not on his list of events for today. Perhaps it could be penciled in for next week. ]

[former Queen of Naboo, current senator for her sector, and a prominent one at that. has more outfits than is probably necessary.]

[When you put it down on paper being a spy should be a cake walk. When you put it into action you realize how difficult it is.

But Remmy's gotten good at it. He's gotten good at lying with a straight face, listening and picking out useful information for the Rebels and sending it to them. Most of all, though, he's gotten good at surviving the dangerous game he'd been playing.

Of course, the other problem with being a spy is not everyone knew. It made things difficult, but was necessary. The less people that knew what he was doing, what his actual side was, the less risk. Which was how he ended up with his hands tied behind his back in a holding cell of one of the Rebel bases. He wasn't sure which one, he'd been blindfolded after all, but hopefully it was the right one. With a scowl he leaned back in his chair, idly licking his split lip before speaking up.]

You know even prisoners get a glass of water!

[It's true, not everyone in the Alliance knew exactly who was a spy and who wasn't, which sometimes led to situations just like this one. Of course, even those who sided with the rebellion had their secrets. Alani Miralles had been keeping hers for many years now - at least 20, she thinks. She had to - for her own sake, for the sake of her children.

No one could know that Padme Amidala of Naboo was still alive, working for the Rebels under an assumed name and identity - that of a survivor of the destruction of Alderaan.

She's cut her hair much shorter now, and it curls tightly but is only up to her chin. It's easier to disguise herself if she isn't so regal-looking anymore, much to her own dismay. She wears a stern expression more than she wishes she had to these days - interviewing prisoners of war had been one of the many things she did well for the Alliance. They'd found out quite early on that 'Alani' was a particularly good negotiator.]

I suppose you're right. Threepio - he speaks Basic, I don't think I'll need any translating services, but would you mind terribly helping me out with that?

[The protocol droid belongs to Captain Antilles now, of course, but she remembers a time when C-3PO spent more active time in her apartment than outside it. His mind was wiped after she'd given birth to the twins - it was for their safety and for her safety, and it was for the best. Still, she wishes, only occasionally, that he remembered her. There are so few who knew her true identity - Mon Mothma, for one, the leader of the Alliance, now that Bail Organa had died along with the rest of the planet she'd adopted as Alani's home.]

Now - there are some things I need to know about you before I can actually get to the things I want to ask you. Name and rank in in the Imperial Forces, for one.

[Giving him a little look as if to say 'I'm waiting.']

[His head cocks to one side, a bit lazily. The scowl lifts up into a smile as he stretches his legs out in front of him.]

That stern look doesn't suit a pretty face like yours, miss.

[It's like he's asking for more bruises.

Still he can tell the look, knows he can only push his luck so much.]

Lieutenant Remington Bates, and yourself?

I would advise you not to speak like that to me again.

[She's had to harden since finding out what happened to her husband, especially in that department. Still, it's nice to know she still looks good.]

Commander Alani Miralles. [It took her a long time not to say 'of Alderaan'. She was so used to, at the beginning, Senators introducing themself with their sector or home planet following their name. In the Alliance, everyone is in it together, for the good of the people of the galaxy. Planetary heritage is important, but not in the same way.]

My first question, of course - why were you sent to infiltrate our base?

[She's not quite sure if someone allied with the Empire will give information so quickly, but Padme is still one for talking things out before resorting to fighting. She finds that even with prisoners of war, sometimes being honest and outright about what she wants to know is the best policy.]

I wasn't. Got knocked out by your side. Don't worry your pretty head, though, I don't actually know where your base is.

[He moves to look up at the ceiling, keeping his smile in place.

How was he going to get out of this one? There was no way she would believe that one of their spies had been caught by mistake. He wasn't sure about that, but maybe he could let a few things... Slip... While he was figuring it out.]

Why would your side bring an enemy onto their base?

I don't want to have to tell you again, Lieutenant. Don't take that tone with me.

[How he can smile at a time like this, she has to wonder. The lackadaisical confidence that Lieutenant Bates posesses, it reminds her of...

Well, better times. She doesn't want to dwell on that - not right now, and especially not while she's working.]

We don't - why would we? You have to know something if you were near anyone working for the Alliance in the first place. Who sent you here?

You know what they say, when you're staring down a potential firing squad you might as well make the most of it.

[That and he's good at smiling. Used to drive Afonso and Isabella insane.

His chest clenches at that thought, and if the good Commander was paying close enough attention would no doubt see the smile become a bit forced.]

You say you don't and yet here I am - tied up getting the fifth degree.

This is nowhere near the fifth degree.

[Padme knows they can make his time in the holding cell very difficult, and she stands up, pacing about him. Still...something's off.]

There's something off about you, Lieutenant Bates, and I can't put my finger on it.

You don't have many conversations with people that try to keep things light-hearted despite the situation, do you?

[He gives a snort, keeping his gaze on the ceiling and crossing his stretched out legs at the ankles.]

Most people say that. It's probably my ability to drive someone insane by chatting incessantly.

No, I don't. I don't spend time with many of the pilots.

[Well, she could name a few she was close with, but one of them happened to have the last name 'Skywalker', and she did her best to get close to him for a reason.

Still, there's something up about this man. There may be a reason he's so evasive - could he be undercover? The spies are well known for not breaking their cover, but she tries anyway.]

What made you decide to join Imperial forces? Surely someone so lighthearted as you can't stand idly by while the Empire commits injustices and oppresses so many planets and species.

Injustices and oppression happens daily, commander. Do you think the rebels are above that?

[For a fraction of a second the mask slips, showing a weary man who just wants everything to end. He tears his gaze away from the ceiling, looking at her with an unreadable expression.

Then his smile returns, the mask slipping back on.]

You know I had a friend, back in the academy that you'd probably get along with. He said the same exact thing when he left to join up with your lot. [He laughs, shrugging one shoulder.] Last I heard he was among the prisoners being transferred from Coruscant to the Valkyrie.

[He can't blow his cover, not until he's certain the Commander can keep secrets or he can earn her trust. But that didn't mean he couldn't let the name of a new star destroyer slip with an arrogance of a soldier that assumes the name is already common knowledge.]

Yes, we are. The Alliance works daily to end oppression in the galaxy, not perpetuate it.

[She notices the lieutenant's smile fail him for a moment and she has to wonder what's going on in his mind, deciding to probe a little deeper, a bit of suspicion in her voice.]

You're awfully philosophical for an Imperial lieutenant.

Oh? You mean to tell me that there's not one "bad egg" among the rebels? What, you'll win and suddenly there will be a utopia? No one's going to try and tell others how to live? [He snorts, shaking his head.] No matter what anyone does, there are always going to be those who will continue to act superior then others. Equality, the end of oppression, it'll never happen.

Anyone can be philosophical, sides don't matter when it comes to that.

[He doesn't like this conversation. He liked it better when he was irritating her.]

How long does it take to get water?

You distracted me.

[Frustratedly, she leaves the room, locking the door behind her. In a minute, she returns with a big glass of water. She's ordinarily compassionate, but the war has hardened her. Handing it to him, she goes on.]

You sound awfully skeptical of any sort of rule to be just an ordinary Imperial lieutenant. I'm led to believe there's more to you, Lieutenant Bates...who is your commanding officer?

[There's now a strong suspicion he's on their side, a spy - of course, the Alliance wants to restore the Republic to its former peaceful, working order, but he definitely has some sort of...anti-establishment streak in him. No one who followed the Empire's regime and supported it would question any sort of group in power who wanted to lord over another. That's how the Empire worked. The question was merely to try and trip him up.]

[As she leaves the room she might hear his bark of laughter.

The minute she's gone allows him a minute of respite, enough to take stock in the situation at hand. She was a lot more perceptive then he would have liked, but still something he could handle. He was good at fielding unwanted questions.

When she returns with the glass he takes it, purposely taking a long sip when she asks the question.

He supposes it's the moment of truth.]

Omrah Agamont.

[He takes another sip, watching her carefully. The name itself was no one in the Empire, but instead an anagram for Mothma and Organa. Hopefully the commander would be ranked high enough to be briefed on the different anagrams for spies to use.

If not... Well he might be actually fucked.]

[Her lips are tight as she waits for the name, but as soon as it falls from her lips, her eyes widen. She knew there was something off - and he was good at keeping his cover, she'd definitely give him that.]

Lieutenant, I'm so sorry. I'm glad we have you here in one piece.

[The stern expression fades away from her face to one of compassion and relief - it'd be a tragedy to lose another spy. So many lives had been lost at the hands of the Empire already.

She goes behind him, dropping to her knees to unfasten his hand restraints.]

[He has to give a laugh despite it all, shaking his head and rubbing his wrists once his hands are free.]

There's nothing to apologize for, it's all just part of the job.

[In all honesty, he's just relieved she knew the code. He didn't really have a Plan C.]

It's not as though I could have declared that I was one of your spies, just in case. Tricky business, we should really look into other ways of knowing who can be trusted and who can't.

I was serious about that star destroyer. I have no idea why or how many prisoners they've got transferred onto it, but it's probably worth looking into.

[Life in the smoking ruins of what was left of the galaxy they knew was different. It had HAD to be, if they were going to survive. The Galactic Republic was gone. The Order had been all but razed to the ground. But somehow... they had survived.

And continued to. Being a Jedi is dangerous, now; her lightsaber sits in pieces in pouches on her belt, unassembled but close at hand. No matter the risk, she refuses to part with it. It’s still useful, even if using it publically carries with it too great a danger. She would rather have it. Just in case.

She’s disguised herself, ever since the Order had fallen, since her own troops had tried to kill her, hair dyed a dark brown and cut short and looking every inch the Corellian that Larel Antares is supposed to be. She’s dressed in clothing more suitable for a smuggler than a Jedi, a blaster slung low on her hip. As much as she loathes the weapon, it’s a necessity. And almost as comfortable in her hand as a lightsaber, anymore.

Siri sighs, pushing too dark hair off her face before knocking back her glass of Whyren’s Reserve. Kriff Padmé, where are you? They weren’t scheduled to meet for a bit more time, but she worried.]

[Among the Alliance, it's well known that Alani Miralles was a survivor of the destruction of Alderaan; usually a peaceful woman, but just as good as the Princess at hard and fast negotiations. She did more intelligence work than actual fighting, but she was good at what she did and no one questioned her.

She was glad for that. It would do their group more harm than help if it was to be found out that the once-senator, Padme Amidala, was still alive and supporting the Rebellion. The Senate was, after all, disbanded, and worse - having her two children at the forefront of it, it would put them both in danger. There are secrets even comrades-in-arms keep, and her true identity, she thinks, is one of them.

It's for the safety of everyone involved, she thinks.

As she walks into the bar, the heels of her boots subconsciously clicking to the music playing, she gives Siri a little unobtrusive wave, sitting down next to her and ordering a glass of wine for herself.]

I hope I'm not late, Larel. Are you doing alright?

[She gives Siri a little knowing look at the pseudonym.]

[Thank the kriffing Force. She relaxes the moment Padmé comes walking through the door, giving the other woman a crooked smile.]

Cutting it close, Alani.

[She nods, ordering a second glass.]

I’m fine.

[As fine as she CAN be, anymore. But she’s alive, they're both in one piece, and so far trouble hasn’t found them. She’d call that good.]

Sorry. I had some...business to attend to. You understand.

[She's much more casual in this guise - a meeting with Mothma always had to be kept under wraps. If there were ears in this bar - there are always ears, too many ears - the worst thing would be for something to slip.]

What are you doing planetside?

Of course.

[She takes a sip from her glass. There’s always someone listening. The galaxy is a dangerous place; even more so than it used to be. Particularly for people like them.]

Oh, the usual.

[Code for checking in with her contacts. She’s accumulated a lot of them, since the Order fell. Some are more trustworthy than others, but all of them provide reliable information. Some of them you just have to pay them decently for it.]

[probably from the republic-era, a padawan. he's still working on the whole 'attachment is forbidden' thing.]

Edited 2015-05-04 20:30 (UTC)

[ imperial agent, currently a spy within the rebellion. ]

[Hey. :3 Idk what but I'm sure there's some shenanigans these two can get into if you're interested?]

[ Absolutely!! Running a rebellion mission together, her ending up behind enemy lines and him bailing her out, or maybe him checking out rumors about someone who's force-sensitive, etc - let me know if you have any ideas or prefs! ]

[I really like her behind enemy lines and needing a bailout. Very S1. XD]

[ Imperial presence on the planet is thin, but it's strong enough that they've established a small foothold; well-guarded and well-armed, serving as a stopping point for further advancement and trading with (or shaking down) the locals.

It's one of the few stations out this far, and one of the few chances Ward has had to make a report in-person in months. He slips away from his team, gets on-base and makes the report without issue. Then, of course, runs into one of his friendly rebel teammates on his way out the door.

There's no way to be sure she's seen him. They don't make eye contact, but they pass right by each other as she's dragged through for processing. The options are still limited: either he makes sure she doesn't leave this base alive, just in case, or he plays the angle. Convinces her that he's on her side, a double agent; the potential pay-off for the latter is exponentially higher. He's already given as much intel as he can up to this point, and securing her trust and a cover for continued Imperial contact is worth the risk.

Probably. It's possible that he's also just coming up with excuses not to kill her, but that's something he isn't in the mood to evaluate.

Anyway, long story short: they shove Skye into a cramped cell near the back of the base, and she spends about four insanely boring hours there until the guard on patrol collapses without warning. If she was paying attention, she might've heard the gunshot; if not, she'll probably notice the scorch mark on his back.

Ward steps over the body so he can reach the door panel, punching in a code and tossing a gun through the door the second it slides open. Think fast. ]

We don't have much time.

[There had been no mistaking him -- the Rebellion didn't have enough tall, dark, and handsome going around for it to be anyone else. If he saw her, he gave no indication of it, and like that all the fight and struggle had gone out of Skye. She couldn't even shout to him, her mouth felt dry and there was a substantial lump in her throat. The two soldiers that had been escorting her to a cell moved her along, like a boat in a current.

Her resolve disappeared almost completely when the cell door closed and locked behind her. A dumb misstep and disobeying orders had brought her here, and now it was probably going to be the end of her. They would try to get what she knew out of her, and then kill her, one less soldier for the Rebellion. The cell wasn't big enough to pace in, so she sat, trying to prepare herself to withstand whatever torture was being planned for her.

But maybe it wouldn't happen like that. Ward was here, and he hadn't been escorted wherever he'd been headed to. Why was he here? Fitz couldn't have gotten back to base that quickly, and even if he had, were they going to send rescue for one tech head who couldn't keep her damn mouth shut? After a time she began to doubt herself, maybe it wasn't him, and her brain had seen what she wanted to see: a friendly face, a way out. Maybe she was truly alone. Perhaps that had never changed.

Skye is beginning to make peace with the fact that she isn't leaving here alive, and is even a little annoyed that they've left her to sweat it out this long, but just as she was about to make the transition from 'slightly annoyed' to 'really irritated' she heard the heavy footsteps in the corridor beyond the steel door, and pushed herself to her feet -- they weren't going to find her cowering like a wounded animal. The gunshot scared her, and she put her back against the wall opposite the door. Before she could process what that possibly could have been, the door slides open. Ward is on the other side, and throws one of the blasters to her. She fumbles, but manages not to drop it.

I damn well knew it was you, she nearly says, but her next instinct restrains her from doing so. There is undeniably a strain of relief rushing through her, but also the underlying question: what is he doing here? She comes forward, recovered slightly, but still shaken.]

I didn't think anyone was coming.

[Very open to much cross canon interactions, come at me with your AUs. (But will only do shippy/smutty stuff with canon pairing.)]

(Sometime prior to Episode III or post-Season 5? ~~Still need to rewatch series and see season 6~~.)

[Yes, I'd love that! Snips, where did you go? Skyguy kinda got lost without you.

Do you want a random run in, or something more specific? Like Snip coming to help Anakin with something?

(Sure! That works fine with me, like Snips coming to help Anakin out with something and it goes from there.)

[Any thoughts/preferences on what that something could be?]

(A quick mention or so about training Younglings, a mission gone awry, or Pod Racing that requires a much-needed escape.)

[If we're going with the time period between end of Season 5 of TCW and before RotS, the mission gone awry would work. Anakin would be out on the Outer Rims the whole time, do we wanna say it's accidental, like Ahsoka was on this planet when a battle erupted on that planet?]

[Were you in Counted Stars once upon a time? I was Leia there and your username is familiar]

[Nah, that wasn't me. There is another Anakin player on DW with the journal name of ignitethestars. You might be thinking of them.]

[That's probably it, then; sorry for the confusion! Can I tag Anakin with my Leia sometime anyway, though? Your visuals page is seriously nifty. =) Can't be now though because I've gotten snowed over in real life, heigh ho.]

[Go for it. Getting snowed-in in May kinda sucks!

Do you have something in mind? I don't play Anakin from post RotS, so I don't play Vader.]

[Tiny padawan, probably.]

[the man, the myth, the legend. hero of yavin and rogue leader! jedi in training. son of a sith lord.]

[Jedi master. Has figured out how to use the Force to fly under her own power. Has a bit of a temper.]

[genius billionaire playboy philanthropist.]

[bounty hunter with his eyes on two girls in the galactic senate. probably mandalorian.]

[ smuggling. SO MUCH SMUGGLING. ]

[If Isabela is smuggling she probably needs a co-pilot with good aim, yes?]

[Space pirate. Chose not to get a robotic hand when a hook (plus some extra tricks) was so much more interesting. Only out for himself, probably.]

star wars au meme

nathaniel romanoff | mcu (rule 63)

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Winry Rockbell | Fullmetal Alchemist

cress darnel | the lunar chronicles

scarlet benoit | the lunar chronicles

Miles Wood | OC | M/M

Clint Barton/Hawkeye | MCU

Skye || Agents of SHIELD || m/f

ezio auditore | assassin's creed | ota

Samus Aran | Metroid | OTA

legolas | tolkien

Winter Celchu | Star Wars EU

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bobbi morse / mcu: aos

"we have problems," part one

we really really do though

i maintain that it's all your fault

nuh huh only 55%

62% i feel

no it's definitely under 60%

59.5% take or leave

yeah okay i accept

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"we have problems," part two

james barnes ( mcu. )

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claire temple ( daredevil. )

well, well, well

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sorry for suddenly disappearing off the face of the planet.

padme amidala | star wars

Lemme know if anything needs to be changed!!

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So uh... sorry for the book and let me know if I need to change anything!