Star Wars: Fragile Threads

Fragile Threads

"Didn't know you were a believer, Densin."

"The only thing I believe in is profit."

"Ah, and there it is. The only religion Corellians commit to... money."

"You're damn right, Paulsen. And rededicating my efforts to staying alive long enough to spend it," Densin countered.

"I'm insane because I intend to blow up a mountain or the fact that I'm doing it and there's no profit in it?" Before Densin could answer Drake fired, "Those Nightsisters are abducting little girls. Dragging them to the bottom of that mountain stronghold and feeding them to spiders in the hopes of reincarnating their dead sisters. That's insanity. And these people are helpless to stop it. So yeah." Drake sat back and relaxed. "I plan on ending that by bringing the mountain down on their heads."

"I always knew Socorrans were a bit touched by the sun. Just tell me. What are you getting out of it?"

There was a change in the air as the cantina door slid open and Tiaja walked in. Spying Drake in conversation, she subtly nodded to him and went to the bar.

Densin's eyes widened in recognition. Eyeing her as if appraising a Mandalorian's beskar helm, he grinned. "Ah, I see. Lovely, but she's a bit tall for you, don't you think?"

"Her sister is one of the little girls the Nightsisters abducted."

Running a finger across his lips in pensive thought, Densin bowed his head and sighed. "How can I help?"

~ ~ ~

Leaving Nikaede to play a round of sabaac with Densin, Drake took his glass and his bottle of Socorran Raava and went to the bar to join Tiaja. She coolly regarded him as he handed her lightsaber back.

"Relax," he whispered as she cast malevolent gazes into the far corner. Geerd had followed her into the cantina, keeping his distance, but looking to her as if awaiting forgiveness. A penance that would never come in her current state of mind.

"I hate him," she said, wrapping her hand around the lightsaber so tightly her knuckles cracked.

Drake leaned his back against the bar and propped his elbows behind him. "When I first saw you that night in the Mos Eisley cantina, I saw a beautiful woman who had a few too many, drowning her sorrows in the bottom of a bottle. We've all been there. But I figured if I plied you with a bit more booze and turned on my irresistible Socorran charm, I might get lucky and have the pleasure of your company for the evening."

Tiaja's scowl fell away. She laughed, tilting her head to the side. "Really?"

"When I woke up the next morning, you were gone, and I was glad." He drank from his glass, savoring the sweet aftertaste of the raava. "Socorran's aren't very good with goodbyes. You did me a favor when you left. But then I saw you again in the alley behind the cantina, being harassed by those thugs. When that Devaronian grabbed your arm, I decided to win you again by playing hero."

"You took a punch in the face for your troubles." Tiaja laughed, moving closer to him. "And then you broke his nose."

"Right after you broke his partner's jaw. And we spent another very pleasant evening together. This time when I woke up, you were asleep on my shoulder." He ran his fingers along her arm. "I couldn't have been happier."

Anxiously pulling at her lower lip, she laughed. "Remember when that Tusken Executioner abducted you in the Jundland Wastes?"

Drake let out a long, exacerbated sigh. "I still have nightmares. She wanted me for a mate. But you challenged her to a duel to get me back."