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SW Gray Tales 41: Search Across Capital
🕑 Added 2025-08-19 15:39:40 +0000 UTCExtremely sorry guys, I had started editing and then just ended up rewriting a portion of it again.
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"Blue skinned Twi'lek girl. Came in earlier today, maybe around morning," my voice rasped through the modulator. It came out flatter than I wanted, more like I was chewing gravel. My grip tightened under the coat, around the gauss pistol, and I leaned a little too far on the counter. "You remember seeing her?"
The cafe smelled like stale caf and fried dough, the kind that sticks to your clothes. Tables scattered with crumbs, a couple patrons nursing drinks in the dim light. No sign of Vasha. Hope dashed, just like that. I was treading on thin ice here, the only lead I had.
The guy behind the register squinted. Middle-aged, apron with grease stains from who-knows-what shift, that I-work-too-many-hours slump in his shoulders. He gave me one of those looks, like I was peddling junk on the corner.
"Uh... yeah, maybe," he said slowly, wiping his hands on a rag. "We get a lot of people in here. Kinda hard to keep track, you know? Faces blur after a while."
"She would’ve stood out," I cut in too quick. Sharp edge slipping out. Damn. I cleared my throat, forced my voice quieter. "Blue skin, lekku wraps, toolbelt with her. Not exactly a holo-drama extra."
That got him thinking. He rubbed at his jaw, eyes flicking toward the door like he was pulling the memory from the steam vents outside. "Okay, yeah. Think I saw someone like that. Sat in the back booth, ordered caf, talked to some guy. The girl was quite beautiful, I remember that much. Why you asking, anyway?"
"Uh... She's a friend." My words rushed, urgency leaking through. Pulse hammering. "Wasn't picking up her comms, so I was a bit worried. Could you tell me what they were talking about? Or where they went after?"
He paused, eyeing me harder. "Friend, huh? You from around here, pal?" The way he said it wasn't casual. Scrutinizing eyes, like he was sizing up a thief. Fuck. Suspicion rising. My pulse jumped higher, and I was already teetering on the edge.
"Yeah, sort of," I muttered, trying to keep it flat, easy. No good. He wasn't buying.
"Look, I don't know what this is about, but—"
"It’s... sensitive." I leaned in a fraction, voice dropping. "Could we maybe talk somewhere less crowded? Just for a minute?"
His eyebrows shot up, arms crossing over his chest. Wrong move. I felt it hit like a gut punch, sour and crawling up my throat. He leaned back, shaking his head. "Nah, buddy. If you’re here fishing for trouble, take it elsewhere. I got a business to run."
Nope. No time for this dance. Panic spiked, hot and sharp. I reached for the Force like kicking open a rusted hatch I'd bolted shut months ago. It flooded in fast, jittery, but I held it. My Emotional Pulse flared out first, sensing the suspicion bubbling under his skin like acid. Then I shoved back, drowning it under something softer. Pity. Kindness. Just listen to me, please. Help the scared kid.
The shift hit quick. Too quick, even surprised me. His shoulders dropped, eyes softened, that hard edge melting into reluctant concern. "Ah, hell. Alright, fine. But make it quick." He nodded at one of the waitresses, a wiry woman with a tray. "Mina, cover the counter for a sec. Got something to handle."
She glanced over, shrugged. "Yeah, sure, boss."
He gestured me toward the back hallway, past the kitchen door where pots clanged and steam hissed. The staff office was cramped, one desk shoved against a wall stacked with datapads and empty cups, a half-broken chrono buzzing faintly on the shelf. As soon as the door clicked shut, I yanked the helmet off, letting my face show. Ten-year-old kid, wide eyes, messy hair. Play the innocence card hard.
His eyes widened. "You’re just a kid! What the—"
"She’s my guardian," I blurted, words tumbling fast, desperation cracking through. Hands fidgeting, like I couldn't hold still. "She went out for a deal this morning, told me to stay at the workshop, but she hasn’t come back since. I thought maybe she stopped here, and when you said you saw her—" I let my voice catch, forced it to wobble. "Please. I just need to know she’s okay."
I pushed the Force again, letting that desperation ride it, tilting the pity harder. Flood him with it. Like I'd leveled up without noticing. Easy. Too easy.
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking guilty now, shifting on his feet. "Aw, kid... alright, take it easy. Don't get worked up. She was here, yeah. Came in around mid-morning, ordered a caf and a meat wrap. Sat down with some guy in the back. Human, brown jacket, kinda average build. They talked for a while, maybe twenty minutes. Nothing seemed off, you know? Looked like business or something."
My stomach sank, but I kept my face wide-eyed, kid-panic cranked up. "Business? Did you hear any of it? What'd they say?"
He shook his head. "Nah, I wasn't eavesdropping. Just caught bits when I refilled her caf. Something about parts, tech stuff. The guy mentioned a ship or a job, I think. Then they left together, out the front. That's all I got."
"Please, anything," I pushed, hands gripping the edge of the desk like I'd snap it. Voice breaking a little. "We’ve had... people bothering us. Gangs. That’s why I hid my face, I was scared they’d follow me here. If they took her—" I let the words trail off, choking on them. Forced the pity deeper, twisting it like a plea.
He winced, face softening more. "Damn, kid, that sounds rough. Hang on." He cracked the door open, called out. "Hey, Mina! Get in here a sec. Need your take on something."
The office door swung open with a bang, smacking against a stack of empty supply crates. A young woman with dark hair pulled into a messy, gravity defying bun leaned in, a damp cleaning rag dangling from her fingers.
“Boss, if you’re hiding back here to avoid the lunch rush again, I swear I’ll tell everyone you secretly listen to— oh.” Her bright, curious eyes landed on me, then took in the helmet under my arm and the oversized coat swallowing my frame. Her expression shifted from workplace exasperation to unabashed intrigue in a split second. “Whoa. Who’s the little guy? Are we doing a holo drama shoot? Is that why it’s so quiet out there?”
Kozlo let out a long, tired sigh. “Mina, for kriff’s sake. Just get in here.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. She zipped across the tiny room, her sneakers squeaking on the worn floor panels. My instincts screamed at me to back up, but there was nowhere to go. She leaned down, getting uncomfortably close, her gaze analytical. I held my breath, trying to project pure, unadulterated kid.
“Okay, so what’s the story here?” she asked, mostly to Kozlo, but her eyes never left me. “Is he a mini bounty hunter? Some kind of weird off world royalty in disguise? He’s got that tragic orphan vibe down pat.” She suddenly reached out, and before I could flinch, she was squishing one of my cheeks between her thumb and forefinger. They were warm and smelled vaguely of sanitizer. “Look at you. With the ridiculously big eyes and the sad little frown. Wait, are you wearing eyeliner under that helmet, or is that just a genetic blessing? Because your lashes are criminal.”
I let it happen. Couldn't dodge without shattering the illusion. I just stared up at her, letting my face go slack with a mixture of confusion and helplessness. It wasn't hard to fake. My brain was already a short circuiting mess.
“I’m ten,” I said, my voice a little higher than usual. “And I can’t help my face.”
“Tragic,” she muttered, finally releasing me. Her eyes dropped to the helmet I’d set on the desk. “So what’s with the getup? Are you in a play? Some underground Jawa opera? Oh, stars, is this for one of those sad drama holos about kids who find ancient weapons and fight corporate fascists?”
Close. Too close.
“He’s not in a drama, Mina,” Kozlo cut in, his voice rough with impatience. “Focus. You were waiting on table nine this morning, right? The Twi’lek.”
Mina snapped her fingers, her attention instantly refocusing. “The blue one! Yeah, of course. She was nice. Tipped well, which is more than I can say for the usual dockworker crowd.” She pointed the rag at me. “So wait, hold on. You’re with her? Are you her lost kid? Sidekick? You’ve definitely got ‘gets accidentally sealed inside a cargo crate’ energy.”
“She’s my guardian,” I said, latching onto that desperate tone again, letting the real panic leak into it. “She had a meeting with a client. She told me to stay home, but it’s been hours. Five hours. She’s not answering her comms, and she always answers.” My voice started to shake for real now. “I just… I need to know where she went. Please. Anything you saw might help.”
I felt the tendrils of emotion wafting from me into the Force. Not a push, not yet. Just a cloud of raw, childish panic that was easy for anyone with a shred of empathy to get caught in. Mina’s gossipy excitement immediately dissolved, replaced by a wave of protective concern.
“Oh, stars, kid. That’s awful.” She flopped into the room’s only other chair, turning it into a gossip session about a crisis. “Okay. Okay, let me think. Yeah, she was here. Mid morning. Sat at table nine, the middle booth. The one with the busted heater module that Jarn still hasn’t fixed. Anyway, she came in, but this guy was already there, waiting for her by the door. Human. Brown jacket. Had a haircut that looked like he did it himself after watching a poorly edited tutorial.”
I tried to picture it. Generic. Hopelessly generic.
Mina continued, twirling the rag. “They didn't come in together, but he sort of… intercepted her at the entrance. She looked a little on edge when she walked in, you know? Like she’d already second guessed this whole meeting. But she sat down with him. Ordered caf. Black, no sweetener.” She shuddered theatrically. “Total psycho.”
“She likes it that way,” I said quietly, a hollow ache in my chest. The little details were the worst. They made it real.
“Right. Well.” Mina leaned forward conspiratorially. “They talked for a while. I wasn’t trying to hover, but the place was pretty dead, so I was just wiping down the empty tables nearby. He was doing all the talking, mostly. She just kept looking around, like she was scanning for exits. I thought maybe it was a bad date, or a really awkward job interview. You know that vibe, when someone is trying to explain something technical to a guy who has the personality of unbuttered toast? It was exactly that.”
My hand, hidden under the coat, tightened on the pistol grip. “Did you hear what they said?”
“Bits and pieces,” she said, tapping her chin. “He kept talking about getting some droids ‘pre diagnosed.’ She shot him down at first, something like ‘that’s against our policy’ or ‘we do our own diagnostics.’ Real firm. But he kept pushing. Real smooth, real casual. Stuff like, ‘my director needs a full cost map,’ and ‘it’ll mess up our budget model if there are surprises,’ all that boring corporate talk that sounds important but means nothing.”
“And she agreed?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“Yeah, eventually. She let out this big sigh, you know, the one that says ‘I’m only agreeing to this so you’ll shut up,’ and went ‘Alright, fine.’ Looked super annoyed about it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. Vasha. You and your professional pride. We didn’t need this job. You could have just walked away. You could have sent me one message.
Breathe. Just breathe. Focus.
“Where did they go after that?” I asked, forcing my eyes open.
“They left together,” Mina said, her brow furrowed in concentration. “He paid. I was clearing the table next to them when they got up, and he said something about his warehouse being nearby. Something like, ‘It’s just a short walk, I’ll take you over.’ I specifically remember him saying Luminara Street. Yeah. Definitely Luminara Street. That’s where all the old shipping depots are. I’m ninety… no, eighty five percent sure that’s what he said.”
Warehouse. Luminara Street.
It hit me like a shot of pure adrenaline, cutting through the fog of panic. A location. A real lead.
A wave of trembling gratitude washed over me, and I didn’t have to fake it. “Thank you. Both of you.”
I snatched the helmet from the desk, ready to bolt, but Kozlo stepped into my path.
“Kid. Hold on,” he said, his face stern. “You can’t go there by yourself. This is a job for sector security. For a patrol.”
I stopped, turning back to face them. I kept the helmet tucked under my arm, letting them see the kid, letting them see the fear. I let my voice drop, making it shakier, more vulnerable. “We’ve tried that before. Last time a gang was hassling us, we went straight to the local troopers.”
I looked from Kozlo’s worried face to Mina’s. I let the silence hang for a moment before I gently nudged the Force, not pushing a feeling onto them, but amplifying one they already had. That quiet, everyday cynicism every citizen of the Empire carried. The subtle distrust of authority.
“The report vanished,” I said, the lie tasting like ash. “The file was ‘lost.’ We complained, and nothing happened. The guys who were bothering us? I saw them passing creds to a stormtrooper behind a checkpoint a week later.”
Kozlo’s jaw tightened. He’d seen things like that. Everyone on Lothal had.
Mina wrinkled her nose. “You know… Jax was telling me one of the patrol sergeants on South Street got a promotion right after a dozen contraband complaints against his squad just disappeared. Seemed kinda shady.”
“Exactly,” I said, pressing the advantage. “Please. Don’t tell anyone about this. If they’re involved… I can’t risk it. I won’t go in. I’ll just watch from a distance. I just have to know if she’s there.”
It was enough. It wouldn’t make them storm the capitol, but it was enough to make them hesitate. Enough to keep them quiet long enough for me to disappear. I softened their immediate concern, nudging that thread of pity for me a little stronger, just enough so they wouldn’t try to physically stop me.
I pulled the helmet back on, the world tinting behind the visor. The familiar hiss of the seals locking felt like armor snapping into place.
“Thanks again,” my voice came out through the modulator, flat and cold and nothing like the scared kid from a moment ago.
Then I slipped out the back door before they could change their minds.
Comments
Benjamin Black
Thanks for the chapter homie! Glad he’s got a lead to go off of now
Asurakabuto01
Yep, incompetence, corruption and tyranny, several of the reasons why the empire was not very liked by some and ended in its decline, Palpatine and his stupidity in administrative terms, he could have given more power to Thrawn to improve some things but no, let's waste not one but two death stars which could generate economic losses and of insane resources if they are lost or destroyed in rebel hands, They could have built more fleets, securing their forces more, but no, Every Sith Empire has the same problem: they have a short-sighted moron in charge, the only one who was lucky enough to be saved was Darth Krayt although his Sith followers were very incompetent, he left and they didn't know what the hell to do
