The Runaways

Embarking and Arriving

*Ryloth/Space/Coruscant, 21 BBY*

(extra long chapter)

Yes, going back to the ship would solve all of my problems. Who was I kidding? I just created a whole new maelstrom of problems for myself. Spitfire continued to apologize, though he did nothing wrong. In fact, he did everything right. I succumbed to the feelings that have lingered in the back of my mind for longer than I'd like to admit. I was already failing the order, and now I might as well have called them all as worthless as bantha fodder. Years of training and abstinence thrown down the drain for one kiss.

One kiss.

I wanted more-

But I shouldn't.

"Detta!" Spitfire barked.

"I'm sorry, I was in a trance."

"I noticed. Don't feel like you have to apologize." He paused, then opened his mouth to say something.

"Spitfire, before you say something, can we just put it behind us? For now."

"Of course." He sighed softly.

"Thank you. I'm sorry that I can't deal with the stress right now." I grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry for these mixed signals."

"It's ok." He tugged his hand out of mine. "We shouldn't do this anyway." I put a hand on his shoulder like he's always done for me. It comforts me, and I hope it does the same for him.

"Let's play our parts." I told him.

***

I did manage to get a few hours of restless sleep before we left early in the morning. The sun had hardly risen, and we had paid the tailor and gone. Rider flew smoothly, as normal. "Yeah." Rider said, without taking his eyes off of the control panel. "You have the outfit and the plan, but do you have a backstory?" I pursed my lips.

"No."

"I would suggest making one." He finished calculating the jump, and into hyperspace we went.

***

"Ok, I have my backstory. My name is Runo Aen."

"Brilliant." Kittyhawk sat on the floor of the cargo hold along with everyone else, minus Rider.

"Oh and get this! I'm a walking contradiction. Female Twi'lek slave runner/owner. I run low on the market, but I'm looking for some more high-quality slaves for a very expensive and secretive client." I paused. "And, he is wildly rich." Spitfire held my gaze for a moment. I cleared my throat.

"We need names too."

"Slaves don't have names. You're simply another pawn. You trail me and do your work." Kittyhawk made a funny face at that remark. They all looked slightly disdained and annoyed. "Hey, I want you guys to know that the way I act on this mission is not me. We are all playing a role."

"How long will this take?"

"I'm not sure." I replied. "We've got to get in well with the leaders. A couple of weeks maybe?" They all groaned. "Anything derogatory or rude that I may say, I don't really mean it."

"We understand." Ranahan smiled at me. "This is a shaky plan as it is, and we need to make it as authentic as possible." 

***

"General, we are almost to Zygerria." Spitfire called to me through the door. I was changing in a storage closet.

"Ok."