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badsithnocookie · 7 years

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Realization and Eirn from Sith!Quinn? Or Impasse and your cute consular?

allof my consulars are cute okay

impasse/ˈæmpɑːs/[1851]Borrowing from French impasse, from in- + passer.

1.A road with no exit; a cul-de-sac2.A deadlock or stalemate situation in which no progress can be made

Yaméknew that she stuck out.

Shewas graceless, where Jedi were supposed to move like rivers, tripping over herown feet and walking into doorframes and, on one occasion, falling uphalf a flight of stairs; worse than that, she loomed, even when she didn’tintend to. A side effect of her height, combined with the musculature that camewith saber practice and the horns that came with being Zabrak, and a presencethat despite her efforts always seemed to boil down to what other peopleassumed about her character.

Sheeven managed to draw attention to herself in the bustle of the Coruscant SenateTower spaceport - and if there was any one place that she’d hoped to simply bepart of a crowd, it was there. Every sentient race, from every known world, comingand going at all hours and in all directions, the air filled with everylanguage (and every fragrant body odour, not that the tourist pamphlets notedthat one), and she still managed to be unusual; not because of her species, noteven because of her height, but because of the soft, neutral robes she wore andthe lightsaber that was tucked away inside of them.

(thelightsaber was one of many things she was still getting used to the thought of;was still trying not to be terrified of, not least because of how utterlymerciless they were when wielded - at all, never mind poorly)

Still,the glances were only glances, not least because of the heated argument betweena customs officer and- a Twi'lek woman, whose aura was full of embarrassed frustration and whosebody language was more than a little hostile.

‘Excuseme- Master Jedi-?’

Whichmade her pause - and look around, uncertainly, not least because her instinctwas never to assume that she was the one being referred to as Jedi. Itwas another thing that she was still getting used to - at all, never mind inany specific kind of sense.

Thecustoms officer, though, was looking right at Yamé - or at least, at the factshe was so very visibly Jedi.

‘I’m-not a Master,’ Yamé replied, a little nervously. ‘But if I can, I will try tohelp. What- seems to be the problem?’

'OfficerDanek, Republic Customs. Miss Miri here,’ he added, throwing the Twi'lek aglare, ’Claims that these aren’t banned Sith artefacts. But without aForce user here to confirm that-’

'MissM'ri,’ the Twi'lek - M'ri, apparently - snapped, 'Hasn’t done anythingbut be harassed by this sleemo-’

Theartefacts in question were in an open crate, between the two - had clearly beenpackaged carefully, and probably transported onworld. Yamé frowned to herselfas she examined them, though - they visibly resembled restricted artefacts,but-

'Strange,’she murmured - half murmured, her fingers dancing over where their auras shouldhave been, had they truly been Force artefacts. The Force ran through them asmuch as it did through any other object, but that was just it; it wasincidental to them, rather than integral. 'I don’t sense anything fromthem. Light or Dark.’

'They’refake?! Ugh! I’m gonna kill him,’ M'ri fumed - before pausing abruptly, at thelook she was getting from both the customs official and the Jedi. 'I mean, uh.I’ll. Be going now. Then. In that case.’

'Oh,no,’ the official replied, ’Now you’re trying to peddle fakes.’

'I’mnot peddling anything,’ M'ri protested, throwing up her hands in irritation, 'Iwas just-!’

’-Threateningto murder- who, exactly?’ Danek added, less amused the longer this went on.

'I-should be going,’ Yamé started, regretting entirely having involved herself inthe argument. 'I-’

'Ofcourse, Master Jedi,’ Danek replied, absent-mindedly, his attention still allon M'ri. 'As for you, Miss-’

(’Hey,’M'ri shouted, 'don’t just walk off! Jedi’re supposed to- stick up forthe little guy! Hey!’)

'It’stime to face facts, Sha. We’re lost.’

Whichcoming from a man who’d navigated the featureless plains of Hoth was either an insultor compliment, even as Kyo wasn’t sure which - or, for that matter, for who.

Corelliawas a warren at the best of times - a chaotic maze that rivalled only Coruscantin its total lack of urban planning. There were places that it showed the most thatthe now-mere districts had once been city-states of their own, swelling untiltheir borders ran into each other as the world ran out of space - and this wasone of them, an overcrowded corner that had last been accurately mapped about acentury ago - and that was assuming that the records themselves were up todate.

Thewar, as wars always did, made it worse - collapsing bridges into rubble thatblocked underpasses and dammed lakes, and blowing whole new paths through whathad once been nothing but permacrete prefabs. That the maps hadn’t, by andlarge, been updated even before the war just exacerbated this tenfold - hadslowed the rebuilding project on its own, and Master Kyo was starting to seethe benefits to the local councillor’s pleas for cartographers as much as anyother kind of aid.

'We’renot lost. We’re… navigationally displaced,’ Kyo protested - they were lost,despite the fact that her map told her exactly where they were. 'This- is supposedto be a through road.’

Exceptthat it wasn’t, even now that the fires were long put out - and, on furtherinspection, she wasn’t sure it ever had been. The supposed through-road wassurrounded on three sides - and while at least one of those currently comprisedmostly rubble, said rubble had once been an extension of the factory whosewalls comprised one of the other sides. The faded paintlines on the ground andbattered parking metres suggested that if anything, this had once been apopular spot for office workers or visiting civilians to park their speeders,rather than providing any kind of access to the grounds that lay beyond.

'Uh-huh.Let me see the map, Sha.’ Felix was taking it in his stride, at least, thoughthe fact this was no longer an active battleground likely helped with that.

'Here,’she sighed - handing him her datapad, and, while he was looking at it, taking amoment to step away from the speeder and get a better look at the surroundings.There was an overpass, yes, but it went in completely the wrong direction -besides which, she couldn’t for the life of her see where it joined the groundlevel, and that was even assuming it was navigable-

'Well,’Felix added - sounding no more confident than she felt, 'You’re right. This issupposed to be a through road.’

-notto mention cleared for use by the transport authority, who’d declared half thissector unsafe for unscheduled travel due to the leaking gas mains that stillhadn’t been entirely sealed. Kyo was confident enough that the utilities wereon top of things, here, but this was rapidly becoming the only thing she wasconfident of.

'No,’Kyo sighed, 'You’re right. We’re lost.’

'I’msorry to hear there’s a problem,’ Aemilia sighed - even if she wasn’t surprisedin the slightest. 'Is there anything I can do to assist you with it?’

'Exchangerate,’ the Rodian sat across from her replied, shrugging amicably. 'Yourlightsaber won’t solve that, Jedi. Credits, though…’

Hisname - or at least, his alias - was Grizzt, and his business was- well,whatever brought in the credits. The business he had with Aemilia was a Sithartefact that had been stolen from a private collection on Coruscant - acollection it had been in, if the stories were true, since its once-owner hadrelieved it from a Sith during the Sack. Such a possession would have beenhighly illegal, of course - which was why the theft had never been reported,and why this conversation was taking place in one of Nowhere’s booths insteadof a Coruscanti auction house.

'Isee,’ Aemilia replied, slowly; contemplated this a moment, before adding, 'Isuppose I should admit, that I… suspected that this might be an issue.’

Shemade a show of glancing at Grizzt’s companions, at that - of assessing thethreat, and gently coaxed a little more information on them from the Force. Twoof the humans were Force-sensitives; trained, but hiding it, just out of reachbut there if one knew how to read the echoes. The Gamorrean was bored butattentive, and the Nautolan - cloaked, skulking in the shadows - was itching,apparently, for Aemilia to reach for her lightsaber.

Shedidn’t, though, instead reaching for casket at her feet - and just smiledserenely when, half a split second later, every blaster in the room had beendrawn. 'May I?’

Grizztglanced around his associates - and back to Aemilia, before shrugging again.'Try anything funny, Myrric,’ he replied, 'And even you’re space dust.’

'Iassure you,’ Aemilia replied, picking the casket up and placing it on the tablebetween them, 'That if you attempted that, none of you would leave this stationalive.’

Ifnothing else, her brother wouldn’t have appreciated the attempt on her life,and Aemilia could talk down a lot of people hell-bent on payback - but he wasnot one of them.

Grizztand his bodyguards were, Aemilia noted, well trained - well practised, too,though the results of failure in their business gave one ample motivation forsuccess. Outwardly, they showed little reaction - though the Force told anotherstory. The Force-sensitives were immediately on edge - one of them wanted tobolt, and the other only wanted the prize on the table. And the Nautolan- well,the spike of greed that had come from him was something else altogether, thoughAemilia was content for that to remain Grizzt’s problem and not hers.

'Athree-hundred-fifty-two,’ she added, gesturing to the bottle in front of her.The Jedi gardens produced more than just fruit and vegetables; more than ahandful of Jedi turned their hands to arts and crafts, including those relatedto alcohol and its enjoyment. Though the Order strongly discouraged partakingof its pleasures, there was money to be made in selling Jedi crafts - withlicence, of course, though this was a step Aemilia was currently ignoring. 'I trustthis will cover the difference in exchange rates?’

Grizzt,after a long moment studying the bottle - after picking it up, gingerly,examining the label and seal before turning his attention back to Aemilia -just snorted, before making some affirmative gesture towards the Gamorrean.

'Dockingbay 12. And your credits better clear, Myrric, or the deal’s off.’

'Myservice droid is already there,’ Aemilia replied, smiling gently. 'But thankyou. And a pleasure doing business with you.’

#memes #prompts #my writing #oc: yamé #oc: nisha #felix iresso #oc: aemilia #oc: miri #mademoisellegush #long post #sorry about that #alcohol tag

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