Chapter One: Nal Simer
Now:
Nal Simer, struggling smuggler, didn't need a partner. But something about the woman standing in front of him made him change his mind.
He had been sitting at a table inside The Drunk Side, a small tavern in Dreshdae, Korriban—a notorious watering hole for bounty hunters, mercenaries, smugglers, and assassins—when she approached him. He'd just gotten paid a hefty fee for a rather easy job of delivering weapons to an underground operation, and was drinking some of his paycheck away. The sandy-haired, blue-eyed smuggler took one look at the woman who approached him, instantly noticing her bright eyes. She was beautiful, yet looked tough, like someone that didn't put up with a lot of bantha fodder. As pleasing to the eye as she was, Nal wasn't in the mood to talk. He looked away from the woman, pretending he hadn't noticed her approaching.
"I hear you're looking for a smuggling partner?"
Nal leaned back in his chair and sipped his Tarsian ale. "You do, huh?" he asked before he remembered he was supposed to be ignoring her. He turned his head and stared. She was wearing tan slacks, knee-high brown boots, a tan top, and a brown cargo vest. Around her neck she wore a silver necklace with a light-blue stone. Her hair had been tied back, yet loose wavy strands framed her face. Her face had dirt smudges; she looked like she had been crawling around in the Korriban tombs. Nal noticed her blaster holster strapped to her right leg held what looked to be, judging from what he could see, a standard-issued Republic blaster pistol. Was she a spy, or did she kill the person the blaster belonged to? "So what's a beautiful woman like you asking someone like me if they're looking for a smuggling partner?"
"Because if you are," she answered, "I'd be interested in the job."
Nal looked her in the eye. "What makes you say that?"
"You're Nal Simer," she answered. "I'd recognize your face anywhere."
"You seem to have me at a disadvantage."
"I first saw you on Corellia," she said. "Two years ago. You and your partner were up for the same job me and my ex-partner were. You got it, we didn't."
Nal took another swig of her ale. "Refresh my memory."
"Smuggling Naboo spices across Republic trade routes for the Exchange." Nal stopped drinking and looked at her. "You dumped your payload when those Republic Officers stopped you for a routine check. Pissed the Exchange off, and lost your creditability, not to mention a lot of jobs. You tried to get back on your feet, then your partner—"
"So you know who I am," Nal interrupted, "and you know my past. So I'm assuming you know—"
"That you've spent the last two years trying to hide from your past, and now, thanks to the destruction of Taris and the death of Davik Kang, you're trying to clear your name, and forget the past two years?" she said. "Yes, I know."
Nal raised an eyebrow. "You a mind reader, Miss?"
She smiled. "Maybe."
He shook his head. "For someone who knows an awful lot about me, you're gravely mistaken about me needing a partner." He turned away from her. "You seem like a nice woman. But me and mine, that's all I need."
"Well, that's where you're gravely mistaken," she answered.
Nal turned back towards her. "Excuse me?"
"See," she smiled, leaning against the table, "you and I have some things in common. We've been hurt in the past by people we trusted. We both have pasts we're trying desperately to run from. And we're both trying to rebuild our lives from scratch by doing the only thing we know how to do right."
Nal nodded towards her weapon. "Your past involve the Republic?"
"Republic. Jedi. Sith. Exchange. Czerka. Hell, even the Mandalorians." She reached over and grabbed his glass of ale, then downed the rest of its contents. "That's why this partnership will work. You don't trust me, I don't trust you. If there's anything about me you want to believe to be the truth, know that I work by the Smugglers' Code, and if I tell you something, you best believe it." She tossed his glass in the air, then grabbed her blaster and shot the glass, sending fragments of the beverage container flying in several different directions. She spun the blaster with her finger, then re-holstered the weapon. "And that's all you need to know."
"I will admit I'm impressed," Nal said, "but I got just one question, Miss Fountain of Information. You specifically said Davik Kang is dead, and that your past somehow involves the Exchange. No one knows for a fact Kang's gone, just that the Exchange is in turmoil ever since Taris bit the big one. There are rumors he's gone, and no one's seen him in eighteen months or so—"
She smiled coldly. "Who do you think killed him?"
Nal swallowed a mouthful of air and gulped. She was an assassin, too? Suddenly this mysterious woman who may or may not be able to read minds and was in trouble with every main organization out there had become a lot scarier. And she'd most likely get even scarier if he said no. The entire situation was creepy. This woman clearly needed something. Maybe a ticket off Korriban? Then again, could he blame her for wanting to leave this cesspool of darkness? At least she wasn't a seducing hitchhiker like the girl on Manaan. Although based on her curvy backside, he wouldn't mind if she was. Besides that, who knew? Judging from her brief display of skills with a blaster, maybe she'd turn into a real asset to his small, measly operation. He could even earn some credibility and show his future employers that he was so reliable now, someone approached him to partner instead of him begging or working solo. And if she was planning on eventually stabbing him in the back, he knew the warning signs based on previous experience with his former partner. "It's my ship," he said.
She smiled. "Agreed."
"My jobs. You work for me."
"Agreed."
"Ten percent off the top."
"Twenty."
"Twelve."
"Fifteen."
Nal nodded. "Done."
"Room accommodations?" she asked.
Nal smiled. "It's a small ship, darlin'."
She raised an eyebrow. "Gambit is a standard Corellian freighter, complete with three bunks." She glared. "No bunking."
She knew the name of his ship, too? Who was this woman? "I use the extra bedrooms for storage."
"Not any more you don't." She glared. "And in addition to our agreement? That's the last time you call me 'darlin'."
He stood and extended his hand. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced."
She smiled and shook his hand. "Liana."
Nal raised an eyebrow. "You have a last name?"
"Do you need to know it?"
"Already off to a bad start?"
"Buy me a drink and make it up to me."
Nal looked at Liana. "I thought I was the one in charge." He flagged the waiter, and ordered two Tarisian Ales. When the waiter returned with the drinks, Nal held his glass up. "To a mutually beneficial partnership built on no trust and fleeing pasts."
Liana smiled and raised her glass. "To a mutually beneficial partnership."
They clinked glasses and drank.
"Gambit ain't much to look at," Nal said as he led Liana to the docking bay. "But then again, name me a ship that is."
"A silver Naboo cruiser?"
Nal looked at Liana and snorted. "Lifetime of smuggling wouldn't buy me one of those." They turned the corner and walked onto the docking bay platform, coming face to face with Gambit. "She's been through a lot," he said. "And she's got it where it counts." He watched Liana look the ship over. Nal had repainted the circular-shaped ship himself in shades of gray and blue once he bought it. He noted the look of concern on her face. "It's not the best paint job ever, but I couldn't afford much at the time. Maybe if I had killed Darth Malak and cashed in on the reward, I could have given her that Naboo chrome finish." Nal saw Liana turn white. She looked almost in shock. "You okay?"
She blinked. "I'm…I'm sorry." She shook her head. "Sorry, I…I wasn't aware there was a reward for killing Malak."
"Bet that pretty face of yours there was," he said. "Could buy me a fleet of those Naboo ships. No one was sane enough to try and take out Malak, though." He laughed. "I mean, when have you heard of a Bounty Hunter taking out a Sith Lord? Or a mere Smuggler? Nah, the Sith either kill themselves or get taken out by the Jedi. How it'll always be."
"How do you know so much about the Sith?" Liana asked.
"This ain't my first spice run," he said. Nal pointed behind him with his thumb. "Look at what happened at the Sith Academy. Big fish died, all the little fish started to gobble each other up. Same thing happened when Malak died. They all started turnin' on each other cuz there was no authority figure to tell them otherwise. And the ones that didn't kill each other went all nuts and vowed revenge on the Jedi, only to get themselves killed in the process."
Liana suddenly looked very interested. "What do you know about Malak's death?" She asked the question as if she were conducting an interview. Nal was a bit suspicious over that, but figured it wasn't her intent.
"Only what I hear on the Holonews," he said. He looked back at his ship, and walked over towards the entrance ramp. After punching in the security code, the ramp lowered. He gestured for Liana to enter first. "They say it was a Jedi Strike Team that led the assault. Some non-Jedi helped out, I heard. Probably some damn idiots after the reward."
"I heard one of them was a Republic War Hero," she said, walking up the ship's ramp. "Got promoted afterwards, too."
"Still makes him a damn fool," Nal said, "thinkin' he can fight along side a Jedi, tell them what to do. And they said there was a Mandalorian helpin' out, too? What business he got takin' out a Sith Lord? His people got wiped out during the war, so he helps the people that made that happen? There's another idiot for the list." He walked up the ramp behind Liana. After entering the ship, he pressed a button, and the ramp retracted.
"I'm sure they're not as bad as people make them out to be," Liana said as the ramp closed.
"Who, the Republic guy and the Mandalorian?" Nal snorted. "Mandalorians are scum. They got what they deserved. And that Republic War Hero probably got promoted to get him out of the way. Hope he's sittin' behind a desk somewhere now." Nal gestured behind him. "Bunks and refresher are that way, cargo bay and common room are that way, kitchen's around the corner, and cockpit is past the kitchen. You can go anywhere on the ship, but if I catch you pokin' your nose in something I don't like, don't think I won't space you just cuz you're a woman."
"Noted," she said. Figuring the conversation was over, Nal started to walk away. "I heard a report that Revan was a member of that Jedi Strike Team," Liana softly said.
Nal turned around. "Yeah, I heard that, too. Some garbage about him not really being dead. Something about the Jedi capturing him alive five years ago and making it look like Malak killed him."
"Then Revan helped the Jedi defeat Malak." She stated that like it was a fact. Nal raised an eyebrow and was about to inquire when she quickly added: "I mean, that's what I heard."
"Heard that, too. Something about him being redeemed." Nal snorted. "I think it's all one big publicity stunt, personally. You don't see this so-called 'redeemed Revan' being paraded around the galaxy. Not even a picture on the Holonews."
"Maybe the Jedi have Revan barricaded from the public?"
"Possibly. Also heard Revan died on the Star Forge, and that the Jedi are pretending he's really alive." He shook his head. "I don't know. There's so many rumors out there. People just subscribe to the rumor they like the most, then argue it's a fact."
"Maybe Revan is alive and just wants to be normal," Liana said. Nal raised an eyebrow. Liana turned white again, then stumbled over her words. "I'm just sayin'. Revan…Revan does all these horrible things, seeks and gains redemption from everything that was done. I mean, what if it's true? What if Revan really has changed for the good now, and just wants to lead a normal life? Do you really think the public would accept that? I mean, how many people want to kill Revan for what was done to either them or family or just in general?"
"A lot of 'em," Nal said. "I don't know anything about Jedi Redemption. Sounds like a load of bantha fodder. The way I see it, if you're evil, you're evil." He shook his head. "Galaxy's better off without them, and that's a fact. Whether Malak killed Revan or Revan killed Malak, I don't care. They're both dead, and thank the Force for that." He turned around and started to walk away again. "Make yourself at home. We leave for Smuggler's Moon soon. Got a job waiting for me there."
"Smuggler's Moon?" Liana asked. "Nar Shaddaa?"
Nal turned around and started walking backwards. "The one and only."
"You sure know how to show a girl a good time," she said. "First job, and already you're bringing me to a moon run by the Exchange."
"Only the refugee sector, sweetheart," Nal said.
"Sweetheart?"
Nal shrugged. "Just a habit. Is there something else you'd prefer I called you?" For the third time in as many minutes, Liana seemed to turn white again.
"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "It's just…someone asked me that very same question a long time ago. Just…reminded me of him—I'm sorry."
He frowned. "Is that good or bad?"
It looked to Nal as if she was forcing a smile. "Fleeing pasts, remember?"
He nodded. "Right. I'll, uh, call you to the cockpit when I'm ready to leave. So just walk around and get your bearings."
"You're very trusting," she said.
Nal smiled. "No, I'm not." He turned around. "The entire ship's bugged. You can't even sneeze without me knowing it." As he walked away, under his breath he muttered, "Good thing, too. This one's a bit loony."
Liana wandered down the back halls of Gambit and found an empty bunk. Nal said he didn't really care where she slept, so this room was as good as any other. She closed the door behind her, locked it, then leaned against the door and sighed. She slid down to the floor, hugged her knees, and rested her forehead on her kneecaps.
What if I'm making a big mistake? I can't just up and run away. She felt tears forming, but fought them back. No, I can just up and run away. I'm a danger to everyone…especially Carth. I made the right decision. Nal doesn't know about my past. He doesn't know who I am. I can make a fresh start, and no one will be any wiser.
Well, there was the matter of deciding to now go by her birth name again. If Carth did go looking for her, tracking down someone named Liana Suul who took off on a ship leaving Dreshdae wasn't going to be that difficult.
Who am I kidding? He's not going to go looking for me…especially not after… Oh, Dustil… I shouldn't've done… Liana began to sob hard, holding nothing back. I shouldn't've done it… I should've listened… I should've stopped…
Had she done the right thing in the first place? Coming to Korriban to find Dustil was her idea in the first place. Maybe Carth should have come alone. No, she told herself. Then he would have died for sure. I'd rather him be alive then be dead and gone forever. It's better this way. It's better that I leave.
Finding Nal Simer in the cantina was sheer luck of the Force. Liana was willing to abandon her Force persuasion powers and pay any smuggler or freighter captain for a one-way ticket off Korriban. But there was Nal, all alone and most likely drunk. She knew of him, but had never met the man. And she was certain just at first look he was Nal. There was no other smuggler in the galaxy that looked as handsome as he was. Why he had become a smuggler when he could have easily smiled and charmed his way up any corporate ladder was a mystery. Liana knew of his past thanks to the false life the Jedi planted in her mind. She also knew he was safe. So with a few lies and over-selling of her abilities and past, she was now his partner—and more important, off Korriban.
Nal's voice suddenly came out of the speaker in her room. "Liana, I need you in the cockpit," he said. "I'm ready to go. Time to show off those co-pilot skills I'm hopin' you have. Otherwise we're gonna renegotiate this fifteen percent."
Liana took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She wiped her eyes, sniffed, and then stood up. As she stood, her datapad fell out of her side pocket. She ignored it, instead walking over to the speaker and pressing the call button. "I'm on my way." She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging on the wall. "I'm a wreck," she whispered, looking at her puffy red eyes and dirt-and-tear-smeared face. Maybe after a quick stop at the refresher sink to splash some water on her face she'd feel better.
Before leaving her room, Liana bent over and picked up the fallen datapad. It had somehow switched on—maybe when it hit the floor—and the last message she had read was on the display screen:
"Hey, Beautiful. I got your message. I wanted to confirm the plans for tomorrow morning. The Ebon Hawk is on the old Republic's docking bay, just south of where we first docked when landing on Coruscant. I'll be there at dawn. I'm assuming Zaabar, Mission, and the droids are coming with, and have made plans accordingly. I love you, Beautiful, and can't thank you enough to agreeing to come to Citadel Station. And I'm so grateful the Jedi Council is letting you come, let alone actually leave the Temple. I can't wait to see you again. It's been too, too long, and I look forward to making up for the lost time. Love always, Carth."
Liana deleted the message, switched the datapad off, then shoved it in her pocket.
And thus begins another tale. Thanks to crazyocelot and darth lilias for previewing and offering ideas and suggestions!