Sansa stirred amidst the detritus, her wounded body aching from the brutal clash with Darth Zakayo. She winced deeply as she pulled herself upright to shaking legs, her ornate robes torn and singed. Ashen temple scraps fell from her shoulders as she studied the annihilation around her with still eyes, the acrid smoke stinging her stares nearly as much as the memory of the battle's climax.
Sansa brushed her purple tendrils down tentatively amidst the blaze, Despite her wounds, a steely resolve seethed within her. She would not allow Torrin's nor Zinn's sacrifice to be futile like her own mother's long ago. She owed it to him, to Zinn, and to the Jedi Order to stop Zakayo's dark machinations, no matter the cost or trial that proceeded her.
Gritting her teeth against the cutting pain, Sansa hobbled towards the smoldering decays after confirming herself alone. Her narrow-hilted lightsaber clutched tightly in her hand, she needed to find a way to track the Mandalorian gunship and rescue Torrin before it was too late. Her heart began to race as the different pockets of non-alit ground were her only safety.
As she navigated the treacherous wreckage, her mind attempted to formulate the least risky plan for her allies. She could attempt to contact the Republic forces now engaging overhead, but their involvement could further escalate the conflict and put Torrin at greater risk if they did not already know of their capture.
Or, she could delve deeper into her Force abilities, harnessing her connection to the living energy that bound the galaxy together. Surely there was a way to track Torrin's presence more covertly, to sense his light amidst the encroaching darkness without delay of bureaucracy or code. Sansa knew the path ahead would be fraught with peril, but her soul remained steadfast.
She would not falter, not when so much hung in the balance. As she emerged from the perimeter of the ruins, her regard turned skyward, watching the Republic's cruisers begin to engage with the Mandalorian's own fleet of jagged starships. "If this continues...this could boil over into a full-scale war." she attested, her voice carrying across the scorched ground. "...Years of ice-thin peace on the Rim ruined..." With those words, Sansa set off, her damages forgotten in the face of her relentless ambition to calm both sides before it was too late.
The verdant forests of Dantooine stretched out before her, a lush tapestry of towering Blba trees and vibrant green underbrush's moisture fighting off the licking flames. Sansa paused, drawing in a deep breath of the crisp, clean air barely wafting through the stench of death, letting it fill her fatigued lungs and ameliorate her building anxieties like a calming swaddle of one's mother.
It was then that she felt them, the gentle stirrings of vitality, the living Force pulsing all around her. She opened herself to its embrace, allowing its energy to flow through her veins, guiding her steps forward with little fear. A rustling in the vegetation caught her concentration, and Sansa thought to instinctively raise her lightsaber, but instead only took in a small breath to further calm herself.
But rather than a hazard, a pack of wild kath hounds emerged, their sleek spotted, and brown bodies rippling with muscle as they approached cautiously within arms reach of the Tholothan. Sansa held her ground, projecting a sense of tranquility through the Force. The Kaths appeared to discern her resonant harmony flowing from her weakened state, and one by one, they lowered their heads in a gesture of respect and peace toward the wounded warrior's marred visage of hope standing before them with no malintent.
With a silent authority, the lead hound turned and loped deeper into the dense forest they emerged from, glancing back expectantly toward the woman with her back turned to the flames of the Jedi temple. Sansa gratefully accepted the abnormal invitation and followed, her footsteps light and purposeful through the discomfort. The hounds led her through winding foot trails, their path taking them deeper into the heart of the wilderness's vibrant natural dissonance.
Sansa quickly lost track of time within minutes, her focus consumed by a sheer need to press on, positioned onto her like a spell, a bizarre glimmering call reached to her from within the forest's core. At last, they emerged into a secluded overgrown glade, a crystalline pool nestled amidst the towering trees. The transparent water shimmered invitingly,
invariant shell undisturbed by the quakes of war that raged elsewhere on Dantooine as only small pink leaves blemished its perfect stillness.
As the hounds dispersed back into the timbers, their obligation fulfilled, Sansa approached the reservoir admiringly of the Force's donation to her cause. Enduring eyes pulled to her exhausted reflection in the still mirror-like waters. She caught view of her bloodied condition, her robes torn and singed, her face smeared with ash and grime from her accent out of the chasm.
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After some time and with a sober sigh, Sansa stepped into the beckoning waterhole, hissing as the cool water lapped at her damages, but silently reveling in its pacifying embrace. She submerged herself gradually, scrubbing away the grime and soot that clung to her skin with patient rumination on the natural world around her.
As the sky-like water swirled about her, Sansa felt the weight of her burdens sloughing away, replaced by a sense of revitalization. Emerging from the reservoir, she stood tall and proud, rejuvenating water cascading down in memorial to her past self. In that moment, she was a vision of strength and resilience, a female warrior reborn from the ashes of warfare and certitude.
Sansa moved to the bank, settling cross-legged on the soft moss, her gaze turning inward as she reflected on the events that had brought her to this point. She thought of Zinn, her former mentor and friend, cut down so cruelly before they could even reconcile. Sansa's soul ached with the failure of it all...As the sun dipped below the canopy, bathing the glade in a warm, golden glow, Sansa rose to her feet, her body renewed, her spirit invigorated along with her force wells.
She was no longer the broken warrior who had stumbled into this refuge.
Something new had been unlocked here on Dantooine, waiting to be unleashed upon the forces of the Dark Side. With a deep breath, she reached out through the Force, feeling its currents guiding her, whispering of the trials yet to come. She was ready, steeled by her convictions and her unwavering faith in the light.
Sansa donned her robes once more, the tattered fabrics a symbol of her perseverance. The tranquility of the glade was shattered by a rustling in the undergrowth, followed by a low whistle of gratitude. "Well, well... Isn't this a rare sight? A Jedi, alone and unguarded," A cunning voice rambled out. Sansa whirled around, her lightsaber flowing to her and igniting with an instant snap-hiss, casting a plasma purple glow across the clearing's subtle untamed light. Her eyes constricted as a lean duster jacketed figure emerged from the shades, a smirk playing across his sharp features that belayed his familiarity with crassness as well as danger.
He was a Kyuzo, clad in well-worn armor beneath the thick hide jacket matching that of the mercenaries that fought on the planet since before Sansa's arrival. Despite the threat of Sansa's lightsaber, he approached without trepidation, his hands raised in a farcically lackluster peacemaking gesture. "Easy there, Jedi," he drawled, his tone equal parts amusement and ridicule. "I'm not here to fight. Just out enjoying the free view...normally gotta pay some credits to see something like that out here."
Sansa felt a flush of anger rise within her as the implications of his words sank in. He had been watching her, observing her private moments of respite and renewal without her knowledge. The very thought was a violation, an affront to her dignity. Yet, as a Jedi, she was trained to ascend above such base emotions, to let them flow through her like moisture over a pebble.
With a deep breath, she centered herself, allowing the Force to guide her actions. "You would do well to mind your tongue and eyes, mercenary," she precautioned, her voice level and directed. "I have no quarrel with you, but I will not hesitate to defend myself if necessary."
The Kyuzo threw back his head and laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle that echoed through the clearing. "Relax, Jedi. I'm not here to cause trouble the way I see it...I ain't sure what the hell happened back there." He regarded her with an appraising look, his eyes lingering perhaps a moment too long on her lightsaber. "Though I can't say I'm disappointed with the performance's conclusion."
Sansa's jaw tightened, but she refused to take the bait. Instead, she deactivated her lightsaber, clipping it to her waistband as she examined the Kyuzo male more closely. "You were with the Republic," she stated, recognizing the barely legable markings on his armor peeking. "so you were at the camp when..." Her voice trailed off, the memory of Zinn's brutal death still raw and painful.
The Kyuzo nodded, his expression sobering. "Aye, I was there. Quite the little scrap, if I do say so myself." He grinned, a feral gleam in his eye. "Those Mando's put up one mama of a fight." Sansa felt a pang of sorrow at his callous disregard for the loss of life, but she pushed it aside.
She needed information, and this mercenary might hold the key to tracking down Torrin and unraveling Zakayo's plans that somehow mixed with the now-dead Commander's. "What do you know of De'busk's schemes?" she asked, her tone leaving no room for evasion.
The lanky Kyuzo's brow furrowed, and he rubbed his broad chin thoughtfully. "De'busk? ...Dunno, don't really do names very well." He shrugged, his nonchalance infuriating due to the obvious lie. "All I know is, that Zinn guy showed up out of nowhere, all dark and spooky after the walls got blown. Next thing you know, he's tearing through your lot like a Bantha through a Jawa camp."
Sansa suppressed a shudder at the vivid imagery, her mind replaying the brutal clash in the depths of the temple. "He? Zinn is most certainly a woman. Tell me exactly of the male Kel Dor you saw" Her voice raised in pitch due to the realization this shady individual had glimpsed tangibly what she had believed to have been birthed in the depths.
The mercenary grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the fading light. "For reference sake, I can't go giving away valuable intel like that for free." He took a step toward the pool and stared deeply into it, his orange eyes flickering slightly in its rippling response.
Schooling her features into a mask of serenity, she met his tone evenly. "And what sort of 'arrangement' did you have in mind? As you can see I am a long way from Coruscant." The Kyuzo's grin widened, and he leaned in conspiratorially. "Well, for starters, how about you ditch the robes and we pick up where we left off?"
Before Sansa could respond, he threw back his head like before and laughed uproariously while holding his knees. "I'm just kidding, Jedi! Loosen up, will ya--We already lost the battle remember?"
He wiped a mirthful tear from his eye, shaking his head before clearing his throat. "Nah, all I want is a little taste of that Jedi fighting prowess. Show me some of those fancy saber moves you pulled off at the temple, and I'll tell you everything I know about the Mandos and their new 'friend.'...or at least what I saw from my little hidey hole afterward--" The bounty hunter gently crouched to remove a fist-sized insect from in front of the space between them before regaining his posture.
Sansa felt a flicker of relief, quickly tempered by wariness. This mercenary was unpredictable, but if sparring with him was the price for gaining valuable intelligence, she would pay it. "Very well," she acquiesced, unhooking her lightsaber once more. "But be warned, I will not hold back."
The Kyuzo's eyes danced with excitement as he unholstered his twin blasters, the barrels glowing faintly in the fading light. "If you accidentally kill me--My name is Ibto, just thought you should know." His voice rattled before ceasing suddenly.
With that, he opened fire, a flurry of blaster bolts lancing toward Sansa in a dizzying array of patterns. She moved with newfound the grace and fluidity that the small and humble force-nexus she had tapped into here, her lightsaber a blur of purple energy as she deflected each shot with effortless precision only inches from the quick-footed soldier.
The mercenary whooped with delight, increasing the intensity of his barrage without a care, his movements becoming more erratically formed, Sansa matched him nonetheless, her boots leaving soft imprints in the moss as she danced through the volleys seamlessly.
On and on they danced, locked in a deadly ballet of retreating blaster fire and lightsaber-chasing strikes, neither one willing to yield in even the simple spar. The mercenary's laughter echoed through the clearing, punctuated by the sizzling hiss of plasma meeting bark and stone as he barely dodged her non-lethal strikes with his species' heavy gravitational blessing on his body.
Finally, with a well-timed feint, she landed a spinning axe kick to Ibto's head before holding her blade inches from his throat. His pistols skittered across the ground, chest heaving, eyes alight with exhilaration. "Not bad" he panted, wiping the blood from his cheekbone. "definitly not good, by any means though." He mustered a small chortle.
Sansa deactivated her lightsaber, regarding him with a mixture of caution and grudging respect. "Sansa Jabarri," she said simply, extending her hand expectantly outward after ignoring his attempts at a dig. The shady mercenary chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief as if he didn't know she lied when she said she wouldn't hold back. "Well, Sansa...it is nice to meet you, unfortunate how it had to happen." He rose to his feet, dusting himself off. "But we are here and a deal's a deal." He clicked his tongue joyfully.
He proceeded to recount what he knew of the rest of De'busk's movements she had not been able to access from the droid earlier. The slightly annoying bounty hunter did not know much but only could recount the mysterious Male Kel Dor who had seemingly ingratiated himself into the battle mere seconds after the conflict had started.
Sansa listened intently, committing every detail to memory, her mind trying to replay the moments before they had been invaded to ascertain who this Sith really stood with. The only valuable information was that before they had captured Torrin the surviving Wookie twin had met with that strange R-unit multiple times in the past weeks. She still allowed him to recount the fighting in an absurd game of miming explosions and blaster fire in a way that seemed so detached from the fundamental appreciation of life.
As the mercenary's tale wound down with the ending where he stated the biggest piece he thought was of import. "I swiped the data pack off the protocol droid I may or may not have noticed you and your friend tampering with...Just, curious of course."
Sansa nodded her thanks, her expression resolute. "You have my gratitude for your honesty, which means you have the coordinates to Zinn's last known location," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of grudging respect. "I will only ask for those only and May the Force be with you."
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The Kyuzo snorted, holstering his blasters with a flourish. "Keep your mumbo-jumbo to yourself, Jedi. I'll stick to good old-fashioned guns and smarts." He flashed her a roguish grin. Yet, beneath the bravado and crude innuendo, she had glimpsed a kernel of respect, perhaps even a hint of admiration toward her.
"I wouldn't say goodbye so soon anyways," he drawled, circling her slowly. "Looks like you're in a bit of a bind without a ship, and soon the whole place is gonna be under a fat blockade." His gaze loomed over her torn robes, taking in the evidence of her recent battle. "Can't say I'm surprised, though. You Jedi always seem to find yourselves in the thick of it out here..."
Sansa held her ground, refusing to be cowed. "Can you help me or not, mercenary? I do not have time," she asked, her tone clipped and businesslike. "Of course, I can help you, But you know nothing comes free in this line of work. Cordinates will be 1 and 2 is transport, " He fixed her with a pointed look. "1 I'll give if you keep quiet about me surviving--2 when my boss makes a deal with you...I get 50% of the cut."
Just as Sansa was about to break the tension, Ibto's communicator crackled to life, a harsh voice barking through the static. "Ibto, you worthless hunk of Bantha fodder!" The voice was gruff, filled with unchecked irritation. "Where in the kriffing shit are you? And where's that data you were supposed to retrieve from De'busk's little camp?"
Ibto winced, shooting Sansa an apologetic look before activating the communicator. "Easy there, taskmaster," he tutted, his cocky demeanor slipping back into place. "Had a bit of a complication planetside. But I'm working on a solution as we speak." Sansa now realized that he had never actually been there in the Republic's aid at all.
The voice on the other end sputtered with resentment. "Complication? You mean you messed up again, you nerf-herding piece of –" Ibto held up a hand, cutting off the tirade even if it was unseen. "Now, now, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I've got a line on something big -- something that could make us all very, very rich."
There was a pregnant pause, and Sansa could practically hear the gears turning in the unseen boss's greedy mentality. Finally, a grudging response came through. "US..." He chuckled as if to deny it. "I'm listening."
Ibto shot Sansa another conspiratorial wink before continuing. "Let's just say I've got a certain... passenger who needs discreet humble transportation. And she's willing to pay handsomely for the privilege." Sansa's eyes narrowed, but she held her tongue, recognizing the delicate dance Ibto was performing with layered lies through a smile.
"A passenger, eh?" The boss's voice was laced with skepticism. "And just who might this passenger be? If it's that little shit Jarelle, tell that little rat she owes me big time!" Ibto glanced at Sansa, a silent question in his eyes. She gave the slightest of nods, understanding that her identity would have to be revealed, at least in part.
"Let's just say she's a... former employee of a particular prestigious Order," Ibto said, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "One with deep pockets and a vested interest in keeping things hush-hush." There was a beat of silence, and then the boss's voice came through again, tinged with slight grudging interest. "Just say it was one of the Kriffing Jedi--Zinn can suck my--" The transmission cut off for a moment before coming back on. "The whole entire godamn....Hello?!"
"No, the actual dopes who showed up recently." Ibto's gaze locked with Sansa's, and she could see the unspoken question there --how much was she willing to pay for safe passage? She took a deep breath, reaching into the depths of her connection to the Force, seeking guidance. Finally, she gave a slight huff, and Ibto grinned. "Trust me, this is the score we've been waiting for the lady Jedi comes from a rich family."
Another pause, and then a harsh admission. "Ibto this had better not be another one of your half-baked schemes. I want details – coordinates, rendezvous point, everything...and if I see any Republic troops, I'll glass you all together." Ibto's grin widened, and he winked at Sansa once more.
"You got it, chief. I'll transmit the coordinates shortly. Just have the ship ready to glide...we might need to make a hasty exit." With that, he terminated the connection, letting out a low whistle. "Looks like you've got yourself a ride off this little green gemstone."
Sansa regarded him warily, her senses attuned to any hint of deception. "And what's to stop you from double-crossing me once we're off-world?"
Ibto tilted his head as he began to prepare to speak. "Hey, now, where's the trust? I might be a prize hunter, but I've got a code. And double-crossing a paying client is bad for business anyhow."
Despite herself, Sansa felt a flicker of delight at the mercenary's truthful exchange this time. It was clear to her already that Ibto lived by his own set of rules, a moral compass that pointed in whatever direction promised the biggest payday. Yet, in that moment, she would have to take the risk, to place her trust in this unpredictable mercenary and hope that his greed outweighed any ulterior motives for the good of Torrin.
"Very well, Ibto," she said, her voice steady. "I'll play along for now. But know this – if you betray me, there will be no corner of the galaxy dark enough to hide you from the Order." Ibto's eyes danced with amusement, but he gave a short nod of acknowledgment. "Duly noted, Jabarri. Now, let me send some coordinates in peace. We've got a ship to catch."
As Ibto busied himself with his communicator, transmitting the rendezvous details to his unseen boss of a previous location they had met before a few clicks out. Sansa took a moment to reflect on the rapid turn of events.
Just hours ago, she had been trapped amid the smoking ruins of De'busk's misappropriated Jedi temple, her world shattered by Zinn's death and Torrin's capture like the impact of meteors. Although the path ahead would ever-clear itself through the force, Sansa was certain
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The forest of Dantooine seemed to stretch on endlessly, a verdant tapestry of towering trees and vibrant undergrowth that needed to be tread carefully due to the many active Dantri fauna. Sansa picked her way through the tangled roots and fallen branches with care not to disturb nature any further on this day. Pushing through the thicket next to her, Ibto moved with the easy grace of a seasoned tracker, his sharp eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger as they passed the sloping jungle-coved hills.
Despite his mercenary ways, Sansa couldn't help but admire his bushcraft-- he moved through the wilderness with a natural fluidity, as if he were an extension of the forest itself. As they trekked deeper into the wilds, Sansa found herself becoming increasingly aware of the contrasts between them. "You mocked sacred life earlier, You should at least respect the ones who had their life taken for nearly nothing here on Dantooine as you just stood by."
"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Jedi. Life doesn't need to be mocked or revered – it simply exists and I make do. It's we who assign meaning to it all." Ibto stated meagerly. "Possibly. But without meaning, without purpose, what is the point of existing at all?" She said as they returned to focusing on their trek.
Until a small furry creature darted across their path, its whiskers twitching as it scurried into the undergrowth. "Did you see that?" Sansa exclaimed, her eyes alight with wonder due to her now nostalgic memories of studies at the Jedi temple libraries. "It was a Dantooine Scootmouse! They're supposed to be incredibly rare."
Ibto snorted, his lips quirking into a half-smile. "Rare? More like a nuisance, if you ask me. Those little buggers will chew through your rations faster than a Hutt can inhale a plate of grilled nerf steaks...In 4 weeks of camping out in the bush, I've seen 10" He confidently stated though she could sense he was exaggerating.
Sansa shot him a reproachful look, her brow furrowing. "They're not pests, they're a vital part of the ecosystem, keeping the forest floor clear of debris and spreading seeds through their foraging while rarely being seen until the end of the life cycle when it climbs a very tall tree and makes a large nest to give birth only once--it's all so fascinating!" The mercenary rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Jedi. Just don't come crying to me when one of those furry little thieves makes off somebody's kid while you jabber on about fun facts like a protocol droid."
Despite his flippant tone, her own lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "Maybe you're attracting them with the odor you give off." She jabbed back. As they continued their trek, the banter between them grew more frequent, each trading barbs and stabs with an ease that belied their short acquaintance. Sansa found herself admiring Ibto's quick wit, even as she chided him for his irreverent attitude towards the natural world.
In turn, Ibto seemed to delight in challenging her Jedi sensibilities with his mercenary pragmatism. Yet, beneath the surface, Sansa perceived a grudging esteem, a recognition that they were both survivors in their own way. Ibto, ever perceptive, seemed to sense the shift in her conduct.
He cocked an eyebrow, an infuriatingly cocky grin playing across his lips. "Gonna suck when we get back and I'll have to share you with the others." Sansa felt her cheeks flush, cursing the treacherous heat that crept up her neck. "Don't flatter yourself, mercenary," she retorted, her voice a little too breathy for her liking. "I am no one's to share."
Ibto chuckled deeply at another failed attempt at comedy. "Whatever you say, Jabarri..." They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts as the forest swallowed them deeper into its embrace. Sansa found her mind drifting, dwelling on the mercenary's words, his conviction, his passion.
She had always prided herself on her adherence to the Jedi Code, her unwavering commitment to the ideals of the Order after her mother's death on Tholoth. Her sweet mother fought much like Zinn until the order came and take Sansa away and began to let the Republic give them access to another senator to bribe.
Ibto, for all his faults, seemed to embrace life with a fervor that Sansa found both exhilarating and terrifying like when she had snuck away to small hushed meetings of revolution in hidden bunks on her homeworld.
He lived in the moment, seizing opportunities as they presented themselves, consequences be damned. It was a stark contrast to the Jedi way, with its emphasis on patience, control, on the suppression of emotion. Sansa couldn't help but be drawn to that freedom, that liberation from the shackles of expectation of the Order...The distant wall she had tried to break with Torrin seemed ridiculous now in the face of her suspicion of the Sith being true.
The Order in its many years of spanning peace in truth spent more time primping padawans for diplomacy on far-off worlds than the true galaxy-spanning conflict that brews on the horizon and would need more than just the code of the Jedi to help the Light prevail.
As they pressed deeper into the forest, their path became more treacherous, the undergrowth giving way to rocky outcroppings and steep ravines. Sansa found herself relying more and more on Ibto's guidance, trusting in his instincts and his knowledge of the terrain with aching follow-step.
They moved in sync, anticipating each other's actions, their bodies flowing together in a breathtaking dance of grace and precision through the trees almost playfully at times. It was during one particularly harrowing climb that Sansa found herself pressed against Ibto's back, her arms wrapped around his waist as he hauled them both up a sheer cliff face after her near falling due to her injuries. "Easy there, I can't have you falling on me – at least till I get paid...Then--"
"Your crude humor is hardly appropriate." She tried to mutter through her still-healing respites of helping him through the force. When they finally reached the top, their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, suspended in a moment of electric tension shared so innocently in small moments.
"Crude?" Ibto's gaze dropped to her lips, and Sansa felt her breath catch in her throat...a distant rumble shattered the moment, sending them both stumbling back in surprise. Sansa stood quickly, Ibto recovered first, his features sliding back into that familiar cocky mask "Looks like our ride is here." The source of the rumbling became clear, a scruffy battered freighter, its ion engines kicking up blades of grass as it settled onto a small clearing in the forest.
Sansa steeled herself, drawing on the Force to steady her resolve. She cast one last glance at Ibto, then, with a deep breath, she turned and strode towards the waiting freighter. Her shoulders squared, her resolve hardened. As Sansa approached the rickety-looking freighter, her senses were on high alert, adjusted to any potential threats from the murky crew.
The ramp lowered with a hiss of hydraulics, and Sansa caught her first glimpse of Ibto's crew -–a motley assortment of beings, each more imposing than the last of different Rim-dwelling denizens.
At the forefront stood a towering figure, easily twice Sansa's height, with mottled green scales and a protruding broad snout that bristled with sharp teeth. This, she realized, must be Ibto's boss. the vulgar voice that had crackled through the mercenary's communicator.
"You're a Jedi?" he grumbled, his beady eyes narrowing as they raked over Sansa's form. "So this is the 'passenger' you were going on about, Ibto." The Kyuzo stepped forward, his pompous demeanor firmly in place. "That's right, boss. This here is –" "I don't care who she is," The Rodian snapped, cutting him off with a dismissive wave of his massive hand.
"All I care about is whether she's got the creds to make this little detour worth our while or not." Sansa rolled her shoulders, refusing to be told off by the Rodian's blustering. "I can pay, not now of course," she said, her voice steady and assured. "But first, I need to know that you can get me where I need to go."
The captain's scarred snout wrinkled in a semblance of a sneer. "And where might that be, lady?" The Rodian addressed her without any hint of respect for her station as a knight of the Order. "Coruscant, the Jedi temple..." she said, meeting Kei's beady gaze without flinching. "Or, failing that, the coordinates of a remote location on Dantooine would suffice." Kei burst at the seams in laughter, a grating sound that set Sansa's teeth on edge.
"Coruscant? Are you kriffing kidding me? That's a sure one-way ticket to a Republic prison cell, you psycho. NO WAY!" Sansa opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand, silencing her again. "But this Dantooine location, now that's something we might be able to arrange...gotta make it quick though." He fixed her with a pointed look. "Provided, of course, that you've even got something worth my while."
Sansa's fingers strayed to the hilt of her lightsaber, an instinctive gesture that did not go unnoticed by the Rodian. His blue eyes glinted, and a slow, predatory grin spread across his ugly features. "That's it," he growled. "The saber...Hand it over,"
Sansa felt a surge of indignation, her grip tightening around the hilt of her weapon. Her lightsaber was more than just a tool, it was a symbol of her commitment to the Jedi Order, a physical manifestation of the ideals she had sworn to uphold. To surrender it, even somehow temporarily, felt like a betrayal of everything she stood for. But then she thought of Torrin, trapped in the clutches of the Mandalorians and the twisted Sith Lord, Zakayo.
She thought of the darkness that was spreading across the galaxy, threatening to extinguish the light forever. This was her chance, perhaps her only chance, to strike back against that encroaching darkness. And if the price was her lightsaber, then so be it, she thought to herself.
With a heavy heart, Sansa unclipped the weapon from her belt, holding it out towards the imposing chief bounty hunter. "Very well," she said, her voice thick with capitulation. "Take it." he snatched the lightsaber from her grasp, his eyes glinting with triumph. "Smart choice...We ain't exactly the same riffraff that was busy dying for that snake De'busk--I would have just taken it."
Sansa felt a pang of loss as the weapon left her hand, a piece of her very essence severed from her being. She pushed the feeling aside, steeling herself for the challenges that lay ahead. "Now," she said, her tone brooking no argument. "we must hurry."
The leader chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that set Sansa's teeth on edge. "Easy there, Jedi. You'll get that ride and I'll even have one'o my boys deliver whatever message you want to the stupid little temple on Coruscant as a little thank-you for your troubles...I won't risk flying with a Jedi off-world with the Mandos all riled up." He turned to Ibto, his expression souring. "And you, you worthless fragment of kriffing garbage, you're godamn fired. I'm only taking you as far as this little witch is going as payment for making me fly here."
Ibto's eyes widened in surprise, his cocky demeanor faltering for the first time. "What? Come on, Kei, you can't be serious--The whole place went tits up before I even had the chance to--" Kei's snout wrinkled in a snarl that made the other bounty hunter laugh. "Oh, I'm deadly serious, Ibto. You've been nothing but trouble since the moment you signed on back on Coruscant anyways, and I'm done cleaning up your messes..." The Rodian seemed to be almost instantly adrift in the past at his own mention of it.
"There's no such thing as family out here kid..." With a flick of his bulky wrist, Kei tossed a small holocron towards Sansa. "Make your message out here so they don't catch anything of mine on it...And hurry your asses up, I don't have all day." Sansa caught the device deftly, her mind already racing. She could sense Ibto's indignation beside her, the mercenary bristling at the sudden loss.
Before he could open his mouth to protest, Sansa laid a hand on his arm, a silent plea for restraint even though they might be strangers, She had what she needed-- the coordinates to Zinn's secluded home. The place where she might find answers, or at the very least, a place to regroup and plan her next move, and with a simple touch she gave the Kyuzo reassurance he would not be alone after their arrival.
Without a word, she turned and made her way up the ramp, Ibto trailing behind her, still fuming at his loss of employment. As they stepped onto the cold metal flooring, the freighter's engines roared to life, and with a deafening cacophony, it lifted off, disappearing into the lilac skies of Dantooine.
Sansa stood there, watching as the ground vanished from sight from the cramped interior of the ship, her heart heavy with the weight of the choices she had made by the Order's lack of oversight and even her own.
She had now even sacrificed a piece of herself, a tangible symbol of her commitment to the Jedi Order, all for the chance to rescue someone she barely knew like Torrin. She turned to face Ibto, in that moment, he now was her shifty disgruntled ally, her partner in this seemingly impossible quest tied by the energies of the Force. "Well," he said, his voice tinged with a child-like tantrum. "Looks like you owe me fucking job." Sansa smiled at how crass he was in the face of the unknown, her fingers tightening around the data chip that held the coordinates to their destination. "So it would seem."