Port Ol’val
Lucky Lekku Cantina
“I win!”
Mks and K’tana grinned at each other from opposite sides of the table; his drink down to its last sips and hers almost full. The Miraluka tossed his cards onto the table and drained what was left.
“That’s the third time in a row! C’mon, I’m dying from thirst here!”
“You’re the one who wanted to play a drinking game, Ms. Leader. Maybe if you hadn’t picked a game you can hustle me with then perhaps…”
“Hey, don’t blame the player, blame the game.”
“Does the same logic apply to cheating too?”
Both of her hands crashed into the table, eyes flashing fiercely.
“You calling me a cheater, sis?”
Their faces turned serious, both frozen in place as they watched the other intently. Although the cantina was quiet, the sudden change in atmosphere spread to the other patrons as they too began to stare. Something passed between them in the silence and then began to laugh until it was the only sound in the entire room. The bystanders marked them as unstable and their attentions died away.
“Well, that was the last of my credits - and my access to liquor!,” he rose from his seat, his usual robes replaced by a dark hooded tunic and long shorts, “So you’ll have to give me the opportunity to win it back sometime and buy me a drink or two for goodwill.”
K’tana’s laughter slowed down, her disappointment clearly written on her face, “So soon? But I was planning on you buying me a new speeder. Fine, you can go - but you’d better bring more next time! I don’t do quickies Mr. Blind Man, I am a Lady, don’t you know.”
The Miraluka nodded seriously, taking the time to make an elaborate bow that had taken a whole afternoon with his obstinate Master to learn, “Of course, my Lady Lekku.”
The Twi’lek applauded before dismissing him with one hand as the other emptied the contents of her glass into her mouth. Mks smiled and tucked his hair into his hood before pulling it over his head and walking out onto the street.
It wasn’t a particularly busy time in the Port, but it was rare to go five steps without seeing someone. There was always a pauper left in tatters on some worn corner or a cart led by a large animal took up half of the road. Messy, he thought blandly and turned down one of the narrow side streets, picking the pace into a light jog. Suddenly the smells of the Port became obvious - urine being the main component. But beneath that was the scent of human waste and rotting meat. Two things that were best avoided. He sprinted around a corner and leapt to a broken ledge, bouncing his way back and forth between the adjacent buildings until he was on the roof.
It didn’t look much better from up on top. Generally, the main streets were kept much cleaner than the narrower ones. Some of the spicers native to Port Ol’val put some credits together to keep them cleaned, a rather obvious attempt at a peace offering to House Qel-Droma after the Trials of Loyalty suffocated the Triumvirate.
He watched from his vantage point as a scruffy robed occupant threw a bucket of waste into the alleyway beneath him and was on his way before the smell reached him. The path he ran across was bright underfoot - brighter than the dust that seemed to coat everything. The Port was busy, with the mixed vibrations of engines from the ships coming and going constant. Dust was a sign that you were poor enough to have to live closeby to the inner walls, a fresh showering of dust falling with every exit and arrival. Although he couldn’t quite see the difference between rooftop with dust and rooftop without, he could feel the difference. A perk to being blind, one would say.
The roofs began to turn flimsy as he reached the slums and he changed direction, heading straight towards the rough asteroid walls. His hands found ledges with ease and he pulled himself up and into a small natural hollow. There he found a small receiver which he plugged into his ear and turned it on.
You have received two messages.
“Play all.”
He lay back against the cool stone as he cooled off and awaited the maelstrom.
“Apprentice,” his tone was clipped and with barely restrained anger, “I regret to inform you that although I agreed to your occasional usage of my personal library that should you avoid returning them like we agreed then we shall have to end our current partnership with the gravest of- oh, no wait, here it is. Never mind.”
End of message one.
Somehow he caught himself before the first chuckle and managed to say fairly clearly, “Next.”
"Apprentice,” this time he was hissing and Mks felt his stomach clench in preparation, “I’ve been trying to find you for some time. I can’t really talk here but I finally have something for you to do. Something long-term. You’ll have support in this. Two days, same place.”
The Miraluka stayed still for a very long time, his face frozen in the same anticipatory smile.
----
Two Days Later
Felicity Gentlemen's Club
Private Rooms
“Explain to me again why we meet here?”
Strategos stopped pouring himself a drink from an elegantly carved decanter for a moment.
“You know, I can’t quite remember.”
After he slid himself into a luxuriously made seat and made what agreeable sounds he felt he needed to, he finally noticed his Apprentice.
“So, you’re leaving Shadow Gate.”
The human took a brief swig of his drink, taking the time to savour the flavour.
“And?”
“And you’ll be leading Tyrant Sword. Would you like me to hold your hand and explain what that entails too?”
The room was quiet for a moment, with Mks in deep thought, a light smile ever on his lips, whilst his Master found more pressing things to observe on his robes.
“You’ll be coming with me, then.”
“And that wasn’t a question - good, you’re learning to think for yourself. Well done.”
The Equite let the comment pass.
“But why me?”
“It’s your turn, is it not? And is it not also my place to provide you with the room you require to grow, to save you from the cracks that most in your rank fall into? To guide-”
“And the real reason is?” The Mystic stretched the last syllable out to his Masters irritation. It had taken a long time to speak to one another so free of pomp but they both agreed it would cut a lot of wasted time.
“I’m bored,” he waved his hand at Mks dismissively, “Entertain me, or something.”
The Miraluka laughed briefly before leaning back to watch the fire, the crackling sounds a relaxing component for speculation, “Sure, I have some ideas about how to do that.”
“Good, then get yourself a drink. There is much you need to know.”