Session export: A Casual Drive
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The Vertical City remained alive beneath a blanket of perpetual night, its towering skyline illuminated by seas of neon and holographic advertisements that painted the streets in shifting blues, reds, and violet hues. Streams of speeders flowed between immense towers like rivers of light, while somewhere far below, the unseen undercity groaned beneath the weight of countless lives stacked atop one another.
Creon guided his QS-01 Vandal swoop through the traffic lanes with practiced precision. The machine cut through the air with a low mechanical growl, its overclocked engines humming beneath him as the city rushed past in streaks of color and shadow. Wind tugged at his cloak and rolled across the armored plates at his shoulders while the polarized lenses of his goggles reflected endless lights ahead.
The streets had become more instinctively familiar to him, relying less upon the navigation system on his vambrace’s holoscreen. It was because of her.
Ahead, tucked between a gambling den with flickering holo-signs and a grimy repair stall missing half its lights, sat the little noodle shop: Oodles of Noodles.
Creon’s swoop engines hissed in cooling vents in bringing the bike down toward the street platform into a controlled stop near the entrance. He lingered there staring upward at the mascot cartoon sign. Somehow waiting outside a noodle shop to pick up Aurelis felt capable of making a man more nervous than any battlefield.
(Message deleted)
The small shuttle made it’s way lazily through the traffic towards Oodles of Noodles, this had been a busy few days. Yesterday she’d spent half of it in flight, the other half helping out at Oodles of Noodles, now she was going on a…was this a date? The shuttle landed just off the ledge of the platform that Oodles of Noodles sat on. Aurelis hopped the 3 feet to the landing, she saw the swoop bike before she saw him.
She hadn’t been sure what she was going to wear, had actually agonized over it, hadn’t felt that in over a decade and a half. Redline, using her channels and underworld contacts she got more information. The race looked absolutely wild, and not unlike some of the operations she’d been doing far more often, more recently. She read the reports recently from Nar Shaddaa. Thanks to this, she’d read that people were already flocking as the hotels and casinos were already filling up ahead of the teams and their bikes, Nar Shaddaa, while already a overly crowded moon was becoming a madhouse. This had greatly influenced how she’d chosen to dress for the day.
Not entirely in armor, she was about half armed. Tactical black pants and combat boots, a deep blood red shirt with leather straps that looked like it was part of the fashion, but really was the holster of the pair of vibroknives at the small of her back. Over top a thick leather jacket, inside the lining of which was a 3rd knife. Her deep red curls bounced as her feet touched the platform, the lights creating streaks in the locks. dark grey eyeshadow and dark lips, she looked a far cry from the casual woman he’d met the day before. She’d tried, and not at the behest of a job or mission. For herself, for Creon.
She approached him, her oddly silent steps mostly masking her presence. “ Hey Creon.” she said to announce her arrival.
Creon’s gaze shifted from the glowing noodle sign overhead at the sound of her voice.
For a split second, the countless battlefields, firefights, and high-speed death races he’d survived offered absolutely no tactical guidance whatsoever.
He was expecting Aurelis; a beautiful tavern girl with a sharp charm to her wit. He had not expected this. His eyes drank her in with a soft gaze until he had realized he was staring for a bit longer than he intended.
“…Hey”
Smooth Creon. Absolute mastery of language and charm, he sarcastically criticized to himself.
Creon pushed himself off the wall beside Oodles of Noodles, folding his arms less tightly as if pretending he had not suddenly forgotten how conversations worked. The polarized goggles still hid his eyes, thankfully.
“You look…” His sentence halted halfway through as if passing through several rejected options.
Like I didn’t just spend fifteen minutes waiting out here trying not to think about this.
“… really good,” he mustered.
His gaze drifted briefly toward her boots, then the jacket, then back to her face with a faint smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. And beneath all the neon, rain reflections, and city noise, there was the smallest hint of satisfaction in his expression.
She pulled up about 4 feet from him, the center of her brows drawn up in amusement at this sudden bout of shyness from the man. Appearance wasn’t everything, and this seeming badass apparently stumbled over his words like any younger teenager.
She looked down at her outfit,“ Hm? If you think this looks good you should see when I actually dress up, I’m half dressed for combat.” she chuckled at this.
“ Speaking of, I saw that a couple bands were coming in to take advantage of the Redline crowds, how are you with concerts? Since you’re treating me today, I thought maybe next week you might be interested in being treated to some music.”
She halved the distance and offered him a half smile,“ Give it some thought I suppose, I tend to listen to some heavier stuff. Anyways, you have a destination in mind?” she asked, where he was apparently a man of few words, she was filling in the empty space.
“You’ll need these,” he says motioning to a pouch containing a pair of polarized goggles, a safety helmet, and a repulsor belt.
“I listen to music in my helmet to keep focus when amidst chaos. I’ll admit I’ve not been to many concerts, but I think it would be fun, especially if you’re there with me.”
Aurelis drew her hands from her pockets and approached the pouch, looking at the gear for a moment, she clipped the repulser belt in place, and from under her sleeve drew out a hair tie. When she raised her arms to do a quick french braid to her hair, the jacket rose up exposing the holster at the small of her back with the parallel vibroknives strapped to her torso.
When done and tucking the end under her jacket and fastened closed, she pulled the goggles on and the helmet. “ Good thing I moved some clothes here from home.”
“Three knives minimum… four if you’re paranoid,” he chuckled.
“Oh I have a 3rd. It’s in the lining of the jacket.” she noted with a grin.
The Vandal sat low beside them, all sharp angles and armored plating beneath the glow of Nar Shaddaa’s neon. Illegal modifications hid beneath its frame like restrained violence. Scars marked sections of its chassis from old impacts and close calls, while heat still rolled softly from the engine housing after the ride over.
Creon swung one leg over the swoop and settled into the seat with practiced ease, like a soldier putting on armor.
He leaned forward slightly and pressed a control along the throttle. Then the Vandal woke. A deep mechanical thunk rolled from somewhere beneath the frame as internal systems engaged. Power cells surged alive beneath armored panels. Soft lights flickered across the dashboard in cold blues and reds.
WHOOOM came the ignition.
A violent bass-heavy rumble rolled outward through the platform, somewhere between a predatory animal and industrial machinery held barely under control. The overclocked turbothrusters spun up with a rising metallic whine beneath the deeper roar, their pitch climbing higher and higher until the air itself seemed to vibrate around them. Pedestrians down the street glanced over. One nearby vendor actually looked irritated.
The Vandal idled like it desperately wanted to be moving. Its frame trembled subtly beneath Creon while bursts of heated vapor hissed from side vents near the engine housing. The bike gave the impression of a chained beast pawing at the ground waiting for someone foolish enough to release it. Creon twisted the throttle slightly.
VRRRAAAAAM
Creon glanced back over one shoulder toward Aurelis with a small grin and one boot planted against the platform edge..
“Ready?”
She felt the engine vibrating in her chest as it roared to life and Creon showed off a little. She shook her head with a grin. Stepped forward and swung a leg over the beast, adjusting her seat, scooting closer to Creon and double checking her foot placement, before wrapping her arms around Creon’s waist, adjusting again. Before she found the most comfortable and secure seat. “ Ready.” she said close to his ear.
Creon felt the added weight settle behind him as the Vandal shifted slightly on its repulsors.
The engine’s deep vibration rolled through the bike frame and up through the seat like a living pulse, a restrained animal waiting impatiently beneath armored plating. He’d spent enough years riding the machine to understand every sound it made—the low idle growl, the subtle oscillation in the thrusters, the slight uneven tremor from modifications no engineer in their right mind would’ve approved. Behind him he felt Aurelis adjust. He felt her arms wrap around his waist.
Creon’s posture stiffened for perhaps half a second. The city stretched before them in rivers of neon and endless air traffic while the Vandal idled beneath him with a low mechanical rumble.
Repulsors screamed. Heat blasted from the rear thrusters in blue-white light. The swoop lunged forward with violent acceleration, launching from the platform and out into Nar Shaddaa’s endless night. Neon signs became streaks. Tower lights stretched into ribbons of color. Air traffic split around them as Creon threaded the Vandal into the flowing rivers of speeders between skyscrapers.
Creon’s grin had widened, his resolve fought the urge to become reckless because someone highly attractive was holding onto him.
Aurelis looked around them. Watching the blurs of lights pass as the Vandal sped along, she had no idea where he was taking her. She was more along for the ride. Her hands remained still on his waist, respectfully not roaming the span of his torso, occassionally she ducked her head against his back to take some easier breaths. The wind whipped past them, carrying any attempt to communicate far and away. So she just watched the scenery pass by in a blur.
Creon banked hard left. Then right, all as neon signs flashed past in streaks of crimson and blue.
Tower density lessened as they raced toward the outer sectors where the upper skyline gave way to massive industrial superstructures and forgotten transit spires. The noise of Nar Shaddaa slowly faded behind them, replaced by rushing wind and the distant hum of generators.
They climbed along the exterior edge of an ancient communications tower that protruded far beyond neighboring structures. The bike arced around the curve of the superstructure before emerging beyond the city wall itself.
As he slowed to a halt Nar Shaddaa suddenly had opened before them. No longer were there advertisements or crowds. Just the wind, stars, and the city encompassed below.
Creon said nothing.
The air was thinner up here, but cleaner compared to the mucky germ-filled soup of the city. The city was a distant hum, still most drowned out by the rumble of the Vandal. Her hold on his waist loosened as she sat up straighter to take in the view.
On one side, the permanent glow of the city that never slept, on the other, darkness, the serene stillness of the wilds of the moon. A deep blackness that stretched to the horizon, stars speckling the sky, farther apart above them, and getting brighter and more clustered towards the dark expanse.
Aurelis was…always busy, and in the quiet moments few and far between, she was either sitting in a cantina…reviewing job requests, or sitting in a chamber on Tythus far underwater, watching the fish swim lazily in the waters outside the reinforced windows. Occasional shadows blotted the stars in an out as ships drifted in the high atmosphere, like the reverse of the fish. But it was still…still, and quiet. With only the vibrations of the Vandal under her seat and Creon’s warmth in front of her.
She too said nothing, just enjoying the brief peace of the scenery.
She exhaled through her nose slowly, and smiled a small personal one, she wasn’t looking at him she was looking out at the darkness,“ Thank you.” she said simply, almost a whisper.
Creon stayed still at the controls, gloved hands resting on the Vandal’s grips while the swoop idled beneath them in a low, steady rumble. Heat drifted from the engine housing into the cold night air as distant traffic traced glowing lines through the horizon below.
He looked out toward the endless city, toward Nal Hutta hanging in the distance.
The silence stretched.
“Came up here because I wanted somewhere people wouldn’t bother me.” His head tilted slightly upward toward the stars.
“Nar Shaddaa always feels so…” He searched for the word. “…crowded.”
“ Over the years I learned to tune it out, when I first got here, I was so overwhelmed. Came from a small quiet Imperial Colony in the Outer Rim. Nar Shaddaa, is loud, crowded, slimy, greasy…it’s survival of the fittest at it’s core. I could have benefitted from a place like this in the moments I really needed to be alone.” she said in a moment of vulnerability.
“You know… statistically speaking, this is the point where I’m supposed to say something smooth.”
There was that same small grin.
“I had a line prepared and everything. Forgot it completely.”
And for perhaps the first time all evening Creon looked less like a racer, mercenary, or armored nightmare on a stolen death machine. And more like a man sitting beside someone he genuinely didn’t want the night to end with.
“ Screw lines and preparation, just be honest. I’d rather hear honesty than anything practiced.” she said finally looking at him with a soft laugh.
Her laugh faded into the night air while the Vandal idled beneath them.
“Alright,” his gaze drifted out over the skyline again. “Never expected me to decieve to you, then.”
“Honestly I’m a little surprised you can just close your eyes and just run away with me on a feeling. I still think of how it felt when we saw each other. Are you familiar with the old Jedi religion about some invisible spiritual Force that guides all living things?”
“ I know a little, only recently have been around a lot of Force Users. As far as coming out with you, my gut told me I could at least trust you not to murder me immediately. Because you could try, and I would make it, very, very hard.”
She lapsed into a short silence.“ Besides that, you blushed yesterday. That is almost impossible to falsify.”
“I believe in the Force. And I think that’s what the feeling we had came from.”
He chuckled at her mentioning of his blush, “I think somewhere around then I stopped thinking it was just my stomach.”
“The blush was cute, and honest.” She said.
“ As for the Force…I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. You’re probably more right than I want to think. Because it would mean my instincts are not as sharp as I thought they were…” another beat of quiet.
“ I didn’t come out here with you because of that split second though. I came Because of what happened after.”
Creon studied her for a moment, “After?”
The city seemed quieter now, further away.
“The conversation at the table. That split second may have drawn our attentions. But it didn’t whisper what to say. How to react…it didn’t shout danger, or alter the mind. It caused eye contact…then disappeared.”
“Then maybe the Force simply had tapped us both on the shoulder? Because you’re right, that moment didn’t make us sit at that table. Didn’t make me wait outside for you pretending I wasn’t checking the time every two minutes. Didn’t make me bring you here.”
She laughed openly.“ You find me that appealing that you blush over noodles and pretend not to be eager so you can look cool?”
“Yes.”
She snorted softly, she did ask for honesty. She leaned forward again resting her cheek on his back. Relaxing against him.
Creon felt the shift behind him. Her movement was small, subtle. He relaxed into the gentle weight of her cheek resting against his back.
The city below continued to glow in impossible oceans of light while distant traffic drifted between towers like stars moving through currents. The Vandal hummed beneath them with its familiar mechanical heartbeat, but for a few seconds Creon simply sat there, staring out over Nar Shaddaa.
“There is another version of Nar Shaddaa I want to show you, whenever you are ready.”
She took only a short moment before her arms went around his waist again. “Show me.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth beneath the helmet.
The Vandal’s engine gave a low rumble beneath them as his gloved hand slid back onto the controls. The maintenance platform sat silent around them for a moment longer while Nar Shaddaa stretched endlessly below—a sea of neon veins and artificial stars.
Then—
WHUMMMM.
The repulsors lifted.
The Vandal rose slowly from the edge of the platform, hovering for a brief second over empty air.
Creon glanced slightly over his shoulder.
“Hold on.”
The swoop surged forward from the lonely overlook and dove back toward the city.
She had paused for a moment. Hold on? Then they were diving. Instinct had her arms tightening around him as her organs drifted towards her neck. She had always been in control of drops and wasn’t this far from any surface. At first she had felt a scream but as the Vandel continued it’s dive she felt a laugh bubble up and let loose. She still had a near death grip on his torso but she was laughing in pure unadulterated glee.
The Vandal pitched downward through open air, diving between colossal towers as Nar Shaddaa exploded around them in streaks of color and light. Wind screamed past the bike’s frame. Neon signs blurred overhead. Traffic lanes flashed by in glowing ribbons as the city rushed upward to meet them.
Creon’s eyes widened slightly behind the polarized lenses. Then he laughed too.
He pulled the Vandal up hard. The swoop arced upward between two glittering skyscrapers, repulsors roaring as they climbed back into the upper traffic currents. City lights rolled beneath them in impossible waves while the horizon tilted and corrected.
Soon after Creon’s expression had changed at an instant in catching a small motion at the corner of his vision.
His eyes shifted toward the Vandal’s side display. Three red dots slowly flashed on a radar display. The display gave a warning chirp: UNIDENTIFIED CRAFT — HIGH APPROACH VELOCITY
“Huh… that’s annoying,” Creon hissed.
Far behind them, three engine trails cut through the night. They were moving too fast and direct to be apart of the ongoing civilian traffic.
And then one peeled close enough for details to emerge. A black helmet with red markings, with a stylized neon serpent painted across the side panels.
“Of course…”
Another bike accelerated beside them. Its rider lifted two fingers casually toward his visor.
Then external speakers crackled.
“Well, well…” with hissing static that followed.
“Quantum Shadows running dates now?” Creon called back into the comms.
“Thought that was you, Creon.”
The Vandal’s engines suddenly growled louder.
“I think we’re about to have company,” Creon told Aurelis.
“The kind of company that needs to be exsanguinized or the type you want to show me off to.” She said rather than questioned.
“ Or the type that I am doing to shove my hands into the back of your belt and hang on for dear life.”
There was little extra time to react as the bikes were closing in too fast. Creon pulled a lever that released a hatch at the tail of his bike. Magna mines deployed in a spread behind them. Two of the bikes were able to diverge but one was caught in its hold. The sudden magnetic pull yanked the rider off his vehicle, causing a helpless tumble like a rag× doll.
The one at his side began to approach, but Creon sent forth a group of whistling birds from a compartment in his vambraces. The miniaturized rockets swarmed the other bike, exploding upon contact.
The third biker stopped in his tracks and let them go, veering off to the side.
“That won’t be the last of them… Quantum Shadows will cheat their way across the redline if they can help it.”
“Exsanguinized it is.” she commented casually. She looked back over her shoulder at the lone biker behind them,“ Open your skills up, lose their tracking.” she said giving him permission to open the throttle. She scootched forward flush against his back. while her hands went south, she only hooked her fingers into his belt for a better hold on him so he could focus on the Vandel, and not worry about her.
Creon glanced over his shoulder just long enough to see the lone rider breaking away into distant traffic.
Good.
Creon’s hands tightened around the controls. His eyes shifted slightly. Then downward because suddenly Aurelis had moved closer again, flushed against his back. Her hands hooked into his belt as if she’d made a decision and moved on from it before he even processed what had happened.
A small grin spread beneath his helmet. The kind of grin people got shortly before making truly irresponsible decisions.
Panels along its frame shifted with metallic clicks. Internal systems rerouted power with a rising electronic whine. Warning lights flashed across the display:
OVERCLOCK MODE ACTIVE THRUST LIMITERS DISENGAGED
The engine sound changed. The deep growl sharpened into something almost animal; a predatory mechanical shriek beneath layers of raw thrust output.
Creon’s eyes flicked toward the narrowing corridor ahead—traffic density climbing, warning indicators crawling across the edge of his visor display. Neon reflections streaked across the polished shell of the QS-01 Vandal as the city of Nar Shaddaa blurred around him. His thumb slid beneath the throttle housing. A concealed latch clicked.
Deep within the swoop’s frame, armored plates separated with a metallic clack-clack-clack, exposing systems never intended for legal inspection. Red warning symbols immediately ignited across the display:
THRUST VECTOR LIMITERS: DISABLED STABILITY ASSIST: OFFLINE OVERCLOCK PROTOCOL ACCEPTED
Creon wrapped his hand around a recessed lever hidden beside the control column and pulled. For half a heartbeat there was nothing.
But then the vandal shuddered beneath him as fuel injectors dumped exotic accelerant into the overclocked turbothruster. Somewhere beneath the hull came the rising scream of turbines climbing far beyond their intended tolerances. Magnetic bearings spun. Cooling vents snapped open. Internal rotors flashed with showers of sparks. A circular reactor assembly beneath the seat ignited, spinning faster—faster—until its inner rings became a glowing blur.
STRUCTURAL LOAD WARNING MANUAL OVERRIDE ACTIVE
He grinned and shouted, “Hold on tight. Don’t let me go.”
The rear of the Vandal detonated with crimson light at the full pull of the throttle. For an instant the city itself seemed to have stretched around them as if it couldn’t keep up.
The swoop launched forward hard enough to slam Creon backward against the seat as the artificial wind tore at his jacket and ripped through his groomed hair beneath the open-faced helmet. Buildings became colored smears. Streetlights stretched into endless ribbons of neon. Behind him, red contrails clawed through the Nar Shaddaa night.
Straight through a narrow gap between two suspended skybridges. He vered up. Rolled right. Then down again. The bike responded with terrifying precision. The pressure was enough to cause a nosebleed from the sudden acceleration. Yet the thrusted forces slowed as Creon relaxed the throttle once the turbo had depleted. In slowing the world around them began to retake proper shape.
Ahead, the rich district opened into a canyon of towering luxury spires wrapped in gold light and suspended gardens.
The shift of the engine’s sound and pattern of rumble gave her the forwarning she needed, and she closed her fingers on his belt, drawing her elbows in flush against his sides minimize the effect of the draft trying to pull her back as he punched it. Clinging to him like a camelback. The Gs produced by the sheer speed, still threatened to drag her off, and her arms screamed as she kept her deathlock on his waist.
Honestly, she couldn’t look, she was so focused on hanging on and minimizing the drag that there was nothing to enjoy. Her face was buried between his shoulderblades. Cursing silently to herself as she adjusted her fingers to keep from slipping off.
Then finally she felt the Gs lower as they started to slow down, she kept her grip on his belt, but finally peeked out over his shoulder, then around at the change of scenery of the hoity-toity neighborhood.
The Vandal gradually eased out of overclock as they entered richer traffic currents. The engine note lowered from predatory scream back into its deep mechanical growl. Speed bled away as they moved among crystal towers and suspended gardens glowing beneath Nar Shaddaa’s artificial night. He banked gently around a towering glass spire as waterfalls spilled from elevated gardens nearby.
Gold light washed over them and traffic slowed. Massive casinos suspended between crystal spires.
“Upper Nar Shaddaa.”
“It’s not as impressive as it looks from the outside.” she said casually, with the barest of a careful edge.
“I have a pass for casinos and parties hosted by the Hutts. Racers get publicity which influences bets placed. I’m not one for the fancy light, but the sight of you under such an environment I think would be a spectacle. Care to see how the rich party?”
She chuckled,“ You should let me get dressed up for it then.”
“Shopping?”
“ Are you suggesting, or asking.”
“Offering”
“ It’s been awhile since I’ve actually gone shopping.”
Creon guided the Vandal through the polished arteries of Upper Nar Shaddaa, weaving between suspended gardens and glass towers that reflected endless city light. Eventually the bike descended onto a private landing platform overlooking a massive promenade lined with luxury storefronts and floating advertisements.
Everything here looked expensive.
Designer armor boutiques. Custom jewelers. Tailored formal wear beneath holographic displays taller than buildings. Wealth moved through the streets in pressed suits, shimmering gowns, and bodyguards trying very hard not to look like bodyguards.
Creon shut down the Vandal and looked upward at an enormous storefront of black glass and gold trim.
“How about we start here?”
Aurelis blinked,“ Uh….sure.” she said, tabulating her budget in her head. This was going to set her back a little, but with her recent promotion it wouldn’t hit as hard as it would have.
She hopped off the Vandel, stretching her legs, and took off the helmet and goggles. Dragging the hair tie out and shook out her curls.
Creon could feel her intentions through the Force. Her thoughts of concern reached his senses. After locking the bike he pulled out a credit card, “Just keep me in mind instead of the price tag,” he winks.
“ I’m not going to make you pay Creon.” she said with a chuckle,“ This type of stuff is an investment.”
He swallowed a lump in his throat.
Surely there isn’t a dress over 70k, which was all he had to spare from the last race’s earnings.
But this was more than just picking one outfit. To the pleasure of his eyes she may try out many things.
“I want to invest in you. If price holds you back from something that speaks to you, allow me to support you.‘
Allow me to support you
She froze and watched him for a long moment, those words, not exact, she’d said them to 2 other people, Will you let me support you.
He was saying it to her, he wanted to support…her. She might have looked a little startled. “What? support…me?”
“Yes,” Creon said blinking twice. “And do not feel obliged to me for it. It is a gift I want to give, you owe me nothing.”
“Thank you.” she said after a couple seconds, finding it a little difficult to comprehend.
The doors parted soundlessly as they entered, revealing an interior that looked less like a clothing store and more like an art gallery designed by people with absurd amounts of money. Soft amber lighting reflected across polished black floors that mirrored the ceiling above like still water. Holographic displays floated weightlessly in the air, rotating elegant outfits and designer ensembles in slow motion. Curved white platforms displayed tailored jackets, gowns, jewelry, and formal attire beneath subtle spotlights while massive windows overlooked the glittering skyline of Upper Nar Shaddaa.
Quiet music drifted through hidden speakers. Somewhere nearby, expensive perfume and fresh caf hung in the air.
Even the employees looked expensive.And standing there in armored gear, long coats, weapons, and riding equipment.
Aurelis moved slowly, smoothly, soundless steps on the polished floor, the pair looked very out of place in their windswept riding gear. She wandered towards the gowns, Redline, was not something for nobility, it was illegal, boosting Creon’s reputation, enticing people to bet on him. She’d need something to stand out, more sexy, slinky, eye catching. Blue, or green, form fitting perhaps, low back or a slit up the leg.
Hair up to expose her neck and collarbone. But still elegant and not sleezy, something that commanded a ‘catch’ and not ‘hired tramp’.
Creon folded his arms and watched with amusement at her wandering eyes. With her attention diverted he allowed the more carnal instincts to be sated by drinking in her beauty with his eyes. He began at the boots and followed the curves in wandering upwards. He took note of her measurements, and guessed as to how athletic such proportions could entail. Her figure was worth lingering upon, noting the voluptuous curve from hip to chest and the appeal of her waistline.
Don’t be a creep, his anxiety echoed within the confines of his mind.
But instead he took upon the perspective of bearing witness to beauty of nature, like a masterpiece on canvas, she was a work of art.
Aurelis stepped over to an employee, and explained what she was looking for. The employee a young Zeltron nodded and motioned for Aure to follow her. As the young woman led Aure into another room Aurelis caught Creon looking at her in the mirror, she finished the walk through the door with an extra, teasing sway of the hips.
In the other room, Aurelis was led to a dressing room, and was asked to wait while she brought options to her. She took the opportunity to disrobe and disarm.
The Zeltron took several minutes but returned with a haltered, low back deep green floor length gown, and helped Aurelis into it, she turned to see herself in the mirror, and pursed her lips to the side. Not exactly pleased with the halter. Asking to see the next one, A slightly brighter blue that was definitely eye catching, off the shoulders with a low neckline, but not slutty, sheathed down to just above the knee before more dilaphanous fabric flowed around her feet from a slit off to her right side. She nodded, and stepped into a pair of black heels and stepped out of the dressing room to a small stand with more mirrors, an area that Creon could actually come sit down.
Creon looked up expecting another dress.
Expected to casually nod and pretend he knew anything at all about Upper Nar Shaddaa fashion.
For several long seconds his brain performed an impressive and complete failure to continue functioning as intended. Because somewhere between the rich blue of the gown, the shimmer catching in the fabric beneath the boutique lights, and Aurelis standing there looking entirely like she belonged among the impossible luxury around them.
“This is ridiculous. It has to be a setup. No one should look this incredible.”
“ Are you accusing the Force of pulling the wool over your eyes?” she asked, turning to look at him her expression on the verge of laughing.
“I am accusing the Force,” he said carefully, “of operating an extraordinarily targeted campaign against me personally. Because this…” he gestured to her, “but maybe the Force didn’t do this. But if you laugh at me blushing again, I’m reopening the investigation.” His face was flushed red at the cheekbone.
She raised an eyebrow, and stepped towards him, leaning over,“ No laughing hm? Then I guess I’ll have to do something else.” she grinned and leaned forward farther, pressing her lips to his cheek.
Creon’s nervous system was in shock at the simple touch of her lips. A hand lightly caressed her cheek at the tips his fingers, with his jaw dropped with a breath for longing. He wanted to stay close, but recomposed into a relaxed state with eyes beaming for longing.
Maybe he didn’t realize his muscles had locked up, she pulled away with amusement, the look in his eyes though. Prevented her from retreating. There was heat yes, but it went beyond that. He was looking at her like she was an oasis on Tatooine, she searched his gaze, there were no tells of deception, he hadn’t displayed any all evening. Her skn tingled where he touched her jaw and cheek.
She made maybe a hasty, but trusting decision because her intuition was still screaming that this was right. She leaned forward, and gently pressed her lips, to his.
Creon’s hands slid down to her hips, exploring through touch along the seams of the dress’ fabric. As she leaned away he pressed in for another, taking liberties of the moment for a kiss much deeper and passionate.
He’d drawn her back in, deepened the kiss. She remained, returning said kiss, opening to him. Her hands resting on his shoulders.
When finally he pulled away, not lingering too long in a moment he wanted to never end, he took a deep breath as if it was the first in renewed life, “Eventually enough years go by and enough things happen and you stop expecting…” He exhaled softly. “…this.
Thank you.”
“ There is nothing to thank Creon.” she said softly. She straightened, stepping back and looking over at the Zeltron,“ I think we have a winner.” she passed by the young woman to the dressing room, she flashed Creon a wink before disappearing beyond the door.
Creon remained motionless. The Zeltron folded her arms, “You’re having quite the evening, aren’t you?”
Creon looked upward toward the ceiling as though searching for answers.
“I hate this moon…”
“…I love this moon.”
The Zeltron snorted. It took a couple minutes, but Aurelis finally reappeared dressed again in the riding gear. The dress back on it’s hangar. “ Miss I’m ready, and don’t let him pay for it. I think he can find a gift that I didn’t pick out.”
Creon had been ap fixated on her head didn’t think to keep an eye out around the store for something. Yet now he knew what she wanted he thought to look for some kind of accessory.
“There’s a good stone necklace that would work well,” the Zeltron whispered pointing to the glass case of shining metals. A smile pursed her pink lips for the commission sale she was soon to cash in.
Aurelis gave herself a secret smile, and a quiet chuckle heading for the register. The dress wasn’t actually that expensive, and was easily affordable on her own. Once she’d paid she arranged to have it delivered to a hotel in the Merchant district.
Creon rose from the chair slowly, coat settling around him as he approached. His eyes moved briefly toward the dress bag, then toward her.
“Enjoying yourself? Your smile is a giveaway. We still have a city to see, or has this been enough excitement for a casual drive?”
“ I am certainly enjoying your company.” she said, the Zeltron labelled the bag for delivery and set it aside. “ The kiss wasn’t bad either.”
“Where to now?”
“ Food? Drinks? Both?”
“I know just the spot,” he grins.
“ Maybe not Oodles of Noodles?” she laughed.
Creon offered his arm and, after leaving the boutique, guided Aurelis back into the glowing arteries of Upper Nar Shaddaa. The promenade stretched beneath them in polished black stone and strips of soft gold lighting while suspended gardens drifted overhead like islands hanging in the night sky. Music floated from rooftop lounges and hidden balconies. Luxury speeders passed silently overhead, their reflections gliding across towering walls of glass. The farther they walked, the more absurdly expensive everything became.
Designer jewelers sat beside private casinos. Open-air cafés overlooked impossible drops between towers. Massive holographic sculptures rotated lazily above plazas where wealthy patrons wandered with drinks in hand and bodyguards pretending they weren’t bodyguards. Creon led her toward the edge of a terrace where a sleek lift platform waited. The doors opened without a sound and carried them upward between crystal towers and hanging waterfalls, climbing higher and higher until much of Upper Nar Shaddaa stretched beneath them.
Then Aurelis saw it.
Suspended between two enormous towers overlooking the entire district sat a restaurant seemingly built into open air itself. Elegant black architecture curved outward over the skyline with enormous glass walls and warm interior lighting spilling into the night. Gardens wrapped around its exterior terraces and small streams of water flowed through elevated channels beneath suspended lanterns.
Creon looked over toward her, hands tucked into his coat.
“I assumed suggesting noodles would set a dangerous precedent. Thought instead maybe we’d try something a little fancier.”
“ You are truly out to spoil me.” she hip checked him lightly,“ Show off.” she grinned at him. She’d already had her hand in the crook of his elbow, but she squeezed.
“Dangerous indeed, Metriis would have a field day. Also, this is only one moon. There are a lot of restaurants out there, lots of views. If you still enjoy my company after the next week or two, there’s plenty to see.”
“Besides, that, I make you plenty noodle-y already.” she grinned, teasing again.
There it was.
“Abyssal.”
Its black curved exterior looked less built than sculpted architecture wrapped around towering aquarium windows where ghostly blue jellyfish drifted behind glass. Cyan light traced the arch of the entrance in soft waves, while white soundwave patterns pulsed across the walls like the building itself was breathing music. Beyond the doors, glimpses of dim lounge lighting and aquatic glow flickered through the glass.
Creon’s eyes tracked the structure automatically, scanning entrances, sightlines, and potential exits.
The irony, was not lost on her. He may not know that she lived in an underwater city, but she did. At least the jellyfish was a novelty and not a species that graced the windows of Tythus.
“ I take it you’ve been here before?”
“No. I don’t frequent Nar Shaddaa. Last I was here I had to kill a Hutt because he had a golden table my boss wanted.”
“ You killed a Hutt because your boss was jealous of a piece of furniture?”
“I think there was more to it than that. But at the end of the day, whatever he wants he gets.”
“ I can’t say I don’t find myself in a similiar situation, but my boss generally doesn’t ask for furniture.” she remarked with a chuckle.
“Solid gold,” he shrugged.
Aurelis laughed,“ Must have been a bitch to move.”
Creon stared and nodded, “Cost me a friendship to pull off.”
He then eyed the menu.
“ That…is unforetunate.” she said, looking over the menu herself.
“It’s fine. I shouldn’t be pulling random taxi drivers trying to make a living into a war zone. I have my own ship, of course, but public transport arouses less suspicion.”
The restaurant staff moved with the kind of precision that only existed in places where a single dinner probably cost more than a used speeder.
Their server approached without interruption or fanfare—as if somehow possessing an instinctive awareness of exactly when to appear and exactly when not to. A young human woman dressed in sleek black formal attire accented with subtle silver trim stopped beside the table with practiced grace, datapad held lightly at her side rather than directly in front of her. Nothing about the movement felt mechanical. Everything felt effortless.She offered a warm smile.Not the exaggerated smile of someone working for tips.
The polished confidence of someone accustomed to senators, crime lords, executives, and people rich enough to believe they owned moons.
“Good evening. Welcome. May I start you with drinks as you look over the menu?”
“ How is the Blue Lagoon cocktail?” Aurelis asked as she perused the list,“ Is there a general favorite?”
The waitress’s smile widened ever so slightly—just enough to suggest she had heard that question many times before.
“The Blue Lagoon is very popular,” she said smoothly. “Citrus, slightly sweet, bright finish. Easy to enjoy.”
With a gentle motion of her hand, the holographic image of the drink rotated above the table; a crystalline blue cocktail glowing softly in a curved glass, tiny currents of light drifting beneath its surface.
“But,” she tilted her head slightly, “if you’re asking for the general favorite? Cloud Nine is our signature.”
“I’ll try that,” Creon said.
“Cloud Nine to start for me too.” Aurelis added,“ Please line a Blue Lagoon for my next one.”
The waitress gave a polite nod and made a quick motion across the datapad.
“Of course. Two Cloud Nines to begin,” she said smoothly. “And a Blue Lagoon prepared afterward.”
Another tap on the datapad.
“Would you like a few more moments with the menu?”
“ Please.” Aurelis nodded, smiling at the young woman, she seemed to have a knack with blending into whatever crowd they happened to be around.
The waitress inclined her head with practiced grace.
“Of course. Take all the time you need.”
A warm brief smile passed between her and Aurelis. The young waitress gave Creon one last polite nod. Then departed as silent as a ghost.
Aurelis scooted over towards Creon,“ What do you think, what are you looking at getting.”
Creon looked up from the holographic menu as Aurelis scooted closer. The closer she got, the more he wanted to embrace her again.
“Umm… foam infused Bespin cloudleaf steak?”
She blinked, and lowered her voice,“ Always with the pretencious names….” she muttered with a soft chuckle.
“I am liking the look of this Krakana dish.”
Sounds like something I should be hunting. Creon thought to himself.
Creon studied the menu with exaggerated suspicion for another few seconds before stopping.
A rotating image appeared above the table: delicate white fish over dark vegetables with thin streams of glowing citrus reduction.
“Rishi Moon. Sea Bass. Charred. I think I’ll have that.”
“ Would be a shame to be in a sea themed place, and not have seafood.” Aurelis grinned.
Creon laughed, “Well, I don’t know the moon’s indigenous resources for these dishes, but you’re right, it would be odd.”
“ This is the rich side of town, you really never know where things come from…or who you end up running into. Swoop Bike Racers, casino owners, nobility, old Imperial Officers. It’s Nar Shaddaa.”
“That is somehow the most Nar Shaddaa sentence I have ever heard.”
He leaned back slightly in his chair and glanced toward the skyline outside.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
“I can make it more Nar Shaddaa than that.”
“Oh? How? Thinking of committing a crime?”
She subtly points across the dining room to a table where all of the above were sitting.
Creon frowned. He was hoping she wasn’t ready to so something criminal. When she pointed it only confused him more.
“ Red tie, was a Captain in Palpatine’s Empire. The woman sitting next to him, is Kriisa Tradik she owns a medium sized casino in Republic space. The man next to her is her husband, he is a noble, technically, comes from House Alde. The rodian, is the winner of the Blueline from 5 years ago.”
“How is it you know these people by just looking at them?”
“ Mr Captain, is a friend of my father’s. I was 14 last I saw him. I researched the race after you mentioned it yesterday, and saw all the connected races, and their winners. Kriisa helped take down a trafficking ring by allowing her casino to be staged for a fake auction 3 years ago.”
“Wow,” he blurted, “That’s pretty cool.”
“ So, I made my statement about Nar Shaddaa…even more Nar Shaddaa, because that entire table makes it true.”
He gave a fake smile. Sure. When she said it at first a small hint in his chest hoped she was flirting, thinking of the kiss earlier.
“Knowing who’s who as a local has it’s advantages, I’m sure.”
“ I’m an honorary local Creon. Grew up on some tiny Imperial Colony in the Outer Rim. But my job gets me around, and I have an eiditic memory. So at the very least, you can be sure I will NEVER forget you Creon.” she looked at him, and gave him a secret little smile.
“That’s sweet of you to say,” he says looking down into the reflection of his drink, now lost in his head in self-reflection over those he too cannot forget.
She looked at him, noticing the faint distance in his gaze, she leaned over and in a low voice added,“ Up to you how you want to be remembered as though.”
He looked at her, and met her eyes with an unblinking gaze of longing. She saw pain, a hole within, the first vulnerable wound behind his impressionable facade. Tears were fought back, it wasn’t the time for these emotions to be exercised.
“How are we doing?” The waitress returned. Creon’s shoulders slouched like they were about to fall off.
She slid her hand in his giving it a quick squeeze, but left her fingers intertwined,“I’d like the Krakana Filet, he mentioned wanting the Rishi moon charred sea bass.”
She gave the waitress an apologetic smile.
“Excellent choices.”
Her stylus moved across the datapad.
I’ll place the order immediately. Your drinks should arrive shortly.“
She inclined her head politely and stepped away once more, disappearing into the elegant glow of the restaurant floor.
Creon watched her leave.
Then slowly looked back toward Aurelis.
Then down toward their still intertwined hands.
"You know,” he said quietly, thumb brushing lightly once against her hand, “I’m beginning to think Upper Nar Shaddaa might be dangerous for entirely different reasons than I expected.”
“ And why is that.”
“Racers. Mercenaries. Gangs. Armed idiots trying to kill each other over pride and credits. I know how to handle those. But you looking at me like that? None of this feels predictable.”
“Hmm, I guess that would be disconcerting.” she noted, she still hadn’t drawn her hand out of his, leaving their fingers intertwined. “ Would you rather I be predictable? Or let me have one more odd surprise.”
He chuckled, “You said the words odd surprise like someome about to alter the trajectory of my entire evening.”
“ It’s about 3 minutes from Galactic midnight, I’ll tell you then.”
Creon blinked once.
Then slowly turned his head toward the massive windows overlooking Upper Nar Shaddaa as if checking whether the moon itself intended to warn him about something.
“First the dress, then the kiss, and now you’re starting a countdown? What’s at midnight?”
“Believe it or not…tomorrow is my birthday.”
Creon froze.
“I think that officially means midnight is now a very serious event.”
His thumb brushed lightly across her knuckles again.
“And here I was thinking the dangerous surprise involved another swoop gang. Thank you for telling me.”
“Why would I do anything to you via swoop gang?”
“Money.”
He leaned back in his chair with a small grin returning.
“At this point, if someone burst through that window on a stolen swoop screaming about revenge, I wouldn’t even question it anymore.”
“It’s not you. It’s this moon. I’m on edge, especially after that encounter we just had.”
Then Creon’s expression shifted slightly; Less teasing, more thoughtful.
“Besides,” he added quietly, “I don’t think you’ve done anything tonight except make things unexpectedly amazing.”
He leans back, “But logic demands I still evaluate the long-term potential consequences.”
“ Then evaluate Creon.” she said, leaning back, and sliding her hand from his, her expression cooling to neutral, distant. “ Pros and cons, risk assessment. Evaluate.”
Because beneath the words, he heard the implication immediately. He sighed.
Is that what this is to you?
“Alright. When I met you, I noticed someone observant. Careful. Someone who reads rooms before speaking. Then I noticed someone who could laugh instead of scream while flying through a death dive over Nar Shaddaa. I noticed someone dangerous enough to carry knives into a luxury district and elegant enough to blend into it better than the people born there.”
A quiet breath escaped him for a pause. He had to think.
“Asks for the risks? Massive. Because this is starting to matter for me. Anything that matters can hurt you. But if you’re thinking whether I’d rather go back to before tonight? Not a chance.”
Creon was looking at her directly now.
“ And you, participate in illegal swoop bike races, willingly altered your own bike into something that could explode at any second, and kill hutts for their solid gold furniture. You say that all about me, but you are no different Creon.”
His brows raised a bit.
“You’re right. I am no different. Perhaps you should be cautious of me too.”
“Maybe I never wanted to be cautious of you.”
The tension between them softened just as the waitress returned, gliding toward the table with another staff member following behind carrying polished black serving trays. The aromas reached them first: citrus, spice, butter, and the unmistakable scent of fresh seafood beneath subtle smoke.
The Krakana filet was set carefully before Aurelis first. Thick medallions of pale silver-white meat rested atop dark vegetables glazed in shimmering sauce, faint wisps of steam curling upward beneath delicate strips of luminous garnish. The presentation was elegant without crossing fully into absurd artistic territory.
Creon visibly relaxed at that.
Aure remained at her scootched over distance. The staff returned with the food and Aurelis pulled up the mask she’d used at the boutique and when talking to the waitress. When the staff set the dishes down, she smiled and thanked them. Resting her napkin in her lap, when they were out of earshot she finally said,“ In a sense, I have been a mercenary, for information gathering. Survived taking those type of jobs, and assassinations. My scope of the roles has changed recently and I have been called less and less into those types of jobs.” she said flatly, honestly.
“A far cry from waiting tables. I sensed there was more to you than that. Such things are becoming more common in the galaxy, perhaps from an economic demand.”
“ Would that help explain my behavior, being armed, and all that?”
“A little,” that grin grew back. “There’s still much to explore.”
She started eating, after a few bites she paused,“ As long as you can find it in you to trust me enough to learn.”
He started eating too. There was silence with the occasional humm of enjoyment from the taste of the meal. Creon took his time, eating with trained etiquette so as to not give a bad impression. In private he’d scarf down and move on, but never in front of others.
She fell into her own silence as she ate, sipping on her cocktail every once in awhile. She wouldn’t call this companionable silence, the tension wasn’t quite gone, wrapped into what Creon was not saying. But she schooled her body language into relaxed neutrality. Just…ate.
A short time passed before she asked,“ What day did you want to do the schmoozing?”
Creon almost choked on his food. Hunger was now in his eyes, and not from the meal, “Yesterday.”
She burst out in laughter,“ Creon, I meant that fancy party, that we bought the dress for.”
“Is that what schmoozing means?”
“ Making friendly to garner support, is how I’d define it.”
I’m going to have to read her mind, aren’t I? he thought.
“Dancing was on the table. I just didn’t link the two specifically together with schmoozing.”
“ You want people to make bets on you right?”
“Of course.”
“ Then we must schmooze, be friendly, lick boots, play the game to put you on a pedastal.”
“No amount of fame or fortune would be worth more than time alone with you. Had there been a choice, I’d happily sacrifice the spotlight to see you covered only by moonlight and midnight shadows.”
“ Impressive,” she commented with a soft chuckle,“ But the race is a job for you right? You boss wants something out of it.”
“Credits this time… A war is coming, and the earnings are enough to make an impact.”
“ I know. About the war.”
The Dark Side was now present. A spiritual pressure that loomed behind in a way unseen but still felt. Creon’s mood darkened, “What do you know?”
His voice was low, dark, and predatory.
“ I did say I was essentially a mercenary who specialized in gathering information, I have my ways.” she paused,“ My own boss finds their company threatened by it.”
“Who would that be?”
“ Who is your’s?” she challenged.
“Aurelis… please…” Creon was in turmoil. He was holding back something, waning at his resolve.
She watched him for a long moment, then settled back, she had a feeling this wasn’t going to go over all that well,“ Jon Silvon.”
“Jon?!” Creon’s eyes went wider than she had ever seen. “Woah!!!” he said followed with a big belly laugh like a jolly gift giver.
“How is that old card?”
Okay, maybe not…“ Fine I suppose given what’s looming.”
She gave him an odd look.
“We know each other. Quite well. Last I saw him we had barely survived a swarm of arachnids on Maldo Kries.”
A pause. That serious tone was back.
“You’re an Odanite?”
“Yes.”
“Jedi?”
“No, I do not use the force, I’m exactly as I told you.”
“You have been forthcoming. It’s only fair I be just as open. I-” he sighed. Just when he thought he could have a moment away from it all.
“I was once an Odanite. I never had a proper master, though Blade did teach me a rare fighting style. Many know me from there. Those who love me, and some who hate me.”
“ Those some can go kriff themselves.” she commented casually.
“Einhardt von Eschenwald is one I know of.”
Creon looked down and picked at his food, “Tarvitz, Len, Tisto…”
He looked up at her, “Elyon?”
“ I know Tarvitz, Len and Tisto, but not the other two.”
“When I was a youth, a Sith Lord by the name of Jeric Cyrin took me under his apprenticeship. I learned the Dark Side from the Sons of Sadow under the rule of the Keibatsu dynasty. But I was only a padawan learner.
Grand Master Muz Ashen attacked the Odanites on Tython nearly a decade and a half ago. I was there.”
He stared into the abyss like an old ear veteran with PTSD.
“My squad’s ship was blown out of the sky before it could land. I survived by the will of the Force. The Jedi captured me, interrogated me, and gave me an ultimatum of either forsake the Dark Side and undergo their rehabilitation program, or die.
So I became one of them. Though I always knew they had contempt and mistrust of me as a prisoner of war. I was watched, and withheld from certain training.
It took years but I earned their trust. Then a new generstion regime of the summit and Jedi Council took power, those who knew not of that war. So they payed me no heed as I learned the ways of the Mandalorian from the Okami clan.”
“ A Keibatsu runs Odan Urr now.”
“I serve the Lion of Tarthos.”
“ Small Galaxy.” she commented.“ So, what are you thinking about me now.”
“I didn’t want the clans to be apart of this. I thought you could be my escape.”
She shook her head,“ We’re all affected. No matter how far away we may be. War does that.”
“ I will be there, in the war. These two weeks with you, will be the last of the for sures.”
Creon finished the rest of his drink. “Shall we make the most of it then? Eat, drink, love, and be merry. For tomorrow we die, as the saying goes.”
“That….would be nice.”
“Lets get out of here, then.” He says, laying credits on the table.
She took another couple bites, added a few more credits and followed Creon out the door.
She watched the back of his head for a moment, and sped up grabbing his hand, pulling him to a stop. She stepped in front of him, touching his jaw, then cheek, her gaze on his. She was silent, her expression asking if he was sure he wanted this with her. Cautious, vulnerable. There had been so much back and forth, ups and downs in the last hour alone.
Creon stopped the moment she pulled on his hand.
The noise of Upper Nar Shaddaa drifted around them softly—distant traffic, muted music from rooftop lounges, the endless hum of the city breathing beneath artificial stars. Warm gold light spilled across the promenade while suspended gardens swayed gently overhead.
After everything tonight— The teasing. The tension. The vulnerability. The clans. The war. Moments where they came together and almost pulled away like a oscillating frequency.
The tension that had followed them through dinner and the uncertainty, the careful circling around each other, the moments of vulnerability wrapped in humor and deflection finally seemed to loosen all at once.
Creon embraced Aurelis.
The city continued around them in blurred motion beyond the edge of their little still point in the night. Luxury speeders drifted silently overhead. Music floated faintly from somewhere nearby. Waterfalls spilled down distant towers in ribbons of silver light.
It started gently.
Like both of them still understood there was something fragile in the space between them despite everything that had happened tonight.
Creon’s hand shifted slightly at her waist as Aurelis tilted her head upward toward him, the lights of Upper Nar Shaddaa reflecting softly across her eyes before he leaned down the rest of the way.
His hand slid more securely along her back, drawing her closer against him as the kiss deepened naturally, warmth replacing the careful restraint that had existed between them moments earlier.
Music echoed faintly through the upper district.