A not-so Quiet Drink ( How Aittera met Jheryth )

Aittera looked around her at the destruction in the hangar where the Devious Hope rested as she reflected on the first time she'd met Jheryth Chrystopher several months before.


Aittera was sitting in a small cantina in the back of a casino on Narr Shadaa's Promenade with her third or fourth drink in hand. She'd chosen the brightly lit and garishly colorful venue, because at this time of the evening, it was mostly empty as the larger, more well-known places drew the heft of the gambling crowd. This was the kind of place that filled up later, after the bigger prizes were doled out and the parties were over. 

She'd been feeling anti-social, and in spite of the sounds of slot machines and the canned music from the speakers overhead in the ceiling, this was as close to a quiet drink as she was likely to find on the Promenade. She could've gone elsewhere, of course. There was no lack of seedy dives on the Smuggler's Moon. However, she had a meeting later, and convenience trumped...well, anything else, really. She'd felt a slight tickle at the edges of her perception since she'd landed, and it made her eager to get business wrapped up so she could leave.

As a rule, she relied on her gut, but this was very different. It wasn't the feeling she got when she knew she was being watched, for example, or when something dangerous was about to happen. Instinct and sharp reflexes were the cornerstone of her ability to stay alive in spite of her tendency to put herself into situations she shouldn't be able to walk away from. This was more like something that remained just out of focus, but hinted at a kind of feeling a child might get when reaching for the stove in the moment before his mother smacks his hand. The more she tried to analyze the feeling or figure out what it was, it darted away and left the question as to whether or not it was there at all.

She knew her luck, though. It was there, and whatever that sense was indicative of, it would not be a good thing. What was worse was that she'd be the idiot reaching for the hot stove.

"Just a brandy, please."

The voice had come from a little further down the bar, and she was roused from her thoughts at the same moment that little tickle became a magnetic pull. What struck her first was the vibrant green gaze that was fixed on her with intense contemplation. Immediately, she liked and hated the way he was watching her, taking her measure, smiling with an unnerving confidence that mirrored her usual brazen cockiness. His white hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail at the back of his neck, and the suit that framed his muscular six foot form was easily worth more than she'd made in the past six months. 

The air between them was electric, and she could have easily focused on that save for the mental image of the hand and the stove top. Her gut was finally weighing in, and it was screaming danger. 

He started the short exchange of bantering and flirting that followed as they spent the better part of the next hour in the usual dance. He bought her a drink. She gave him a hard time for being so pedestrian as hitting on a woman at a bar. He insinuated. She deflected. In any other circumstances, she would have been enjoying it, but damned if that stove top wasn't beckoning. There was a flow to it that was just so easy that she was tempted to stay and blow off her meeting to see where things might lead. 

And then, she noticed the lightsaber hilt on his belt.

With a final witty jab, she got up and was halfway to the door before he came up from behind her, asserting that he'd at least earned her name. When she turned to respond, he was close enough to her that she was in his space, and the draw had somehow felt even stronger. 

Looking up into his face, she saw it there - he wasn't creating that magnetic pull, he was experiencing it too. She leaned forward as he bent his head forward, and she whispered something in his ear. It wasn't her name, but it would surely stick with him long after she'd left, and it was distraction enough that he didn't notice that his jacket pocket was a little lighter as she turned to walk away.