Star Wars: Brave Misdeeds

Chapter 25

"Night falls, and I am far from home,

Caught between my cradle and my grave."

                              —from 'Brave Misdeeds,' a popular cantina song

Daemen strolled along the winding corridors, his footsteps falling silently in the plush carpeting. Intimately familiar with the dimly lit interior of his palatial home, the Sith made his way toward the most secure rearguard of his house towards his bedroom and Soelle. In one hand he carried a steaming basket of Rishi honeystix, Soelle's favorite treat, and in the other a small container of Corellian Fried Ice Cream. The grin on his face deepened, and Daemen chuckled as he imagined her surprise and adulation when he presented the sweet treats to her in the hopes to brighten her spirits.

Unnerved by an ominous presence on the periphery of his enhanced senses, he hesitated. While the presence was disquieting, it was a familiar. His strides slowed as he turned the corner and found Reek leaning against the wall near the doorway of his bedroom. Reek was dressed in composite armor, which was recently scuffed and gray, dust-covered from a prolonged period of storage. A Krayt-enhanced scatter-pistol, one of Reek's most cherished weapons, was loosely holstered at his hip, the blaster restraint unsnapped. The entire rigging was slung low from his hip for quick drawing, much in the style of a smuggler or pistoleer. For a long moment, the shipwright did not look up, but stared into his folded hands with one booted foot propped behind him on the wall.

"Something wrong, Reek?" he whispered. "Is Soelle—"

"She's fine, Daemen, sleeping soundly. No reason to worry for her...for now."

Daemen sighed, visibly relieved. "She's been having nightmares."

"So I see." Reek held out his datapad for Daemen to examine.

Daemen scrolled through a score of elaborate and vibrant images of a wall mural, depicting a detailed, desert landscape. The ominous fresco illustrated a strange world of eternal sand, where the wide, sweeping crests of dunes dramatically rose up from the two-dimensional scene to encompass a three-dimensional reality. Hidden within the somber, austere work, almost unseen, in a diminutive area of contrasting light tones that Daemen nearly disregarded, he spied the figure of a man, lying in a fetal position. With one, quivering arm, the forlorn figure reached up, extending his hand toward the viewer, as if pleading for a reprieve from some anguish.

Daemen frowned, annoyed by Reek's enigmatic behavior. "So, you're going into the art business now? Ship parts moving too slowly?"

"Nice piece of work, isn't it?"

"Depends on your tastes. This is a bit morbid, even for me," Daemen replied, uncertain where the conversation was leading. "Where'd you see it?" He handed the datapad back to Reek.

"Your bedroom."

Daemen snatched the datapad back from the shipwright's hand and scrolled back through the images, only now recognizing the curvature of the walls beneath the textured images and the trim along the ceiling and floors. He stared up at Reek, his eyes demanding an explanation. "Soelle?"

"Soelle." Reek shrugged and rubbed a gloved hand over his bald scalp as if contemplating a rationale answer. "I went to check on her like you asked. When I stuck my head inside the door, there she was in that little black nightie you dressed her in, barefoot, and up to her elbows in engine grease."

"Engine grease?" Daemen examined the images again, hardly believing his ears or his eyes.

"Engine grease, solar panel lubricant, repulsor bearings oil, and leather restorative," Reek said quietly. "I must have left my toolbox in your room when I came to fetch her armor for polishing." He stood up, balancing both legs on the plush floor. "I knew when I laid eyes on her; there was something about her. Didn't need to see the way you looked at her to recognize it; or the way she looks at you. This confirms it. There's something about that girl; something that goes beyond you. I only hope you have sense enough not to wreck it." Reek took the datapad from the slack-jawed Sith, ignoring the flash of fury rising in the Dark Jedi's emotions. For a moment, the corridor lights dimmed in reaction to that ire.