Book had felt something arrive on Nar as she'd slipped from the offices of the Company, something that put her on edge, hair raised on the back of her neck and an itch between her shoulder blades. For all that Nar's population numbered in the millions of life-forms something had arrived that made the Miralukan pause and put a bit of speed to her steps. If she could get to the lower levels she knew she could vanish better, she just needed to find a safe sector. Not Red Light she reminded herself, not after Krek's warning.
She was leaving a public building with a limp but at least she was moving. It was dangerous to be so obviously injured on the moon but a whisper of the Force had given her warning to flee. Run. Move. Hide. She felt like the prey of a nexu caught between its great paws with only one avenue of escape. She tried her best to hide but what skill she had with hiding her presence in the Force was gone from disuse, from not understanding the technique or its purpose in the first place. This time Book didn't even fool herself into thinking she'd pick the study back up - it was an avenue she knew she couldn't pursue. The skills she needed to keep sharp now had to focus on combat, on survival, on staying alive.
The idealist she'd once been was dead, Book reflected silently while she went from shadow to shadow. She was starting to become what she'd been before, if only because it was the only way she could see living now, the only way strong enough to survive and perhaps even thrive.
She didn't know his name - she'd called him 'my lord' as he'd perhaps jokingly demanded - but he'd done the same thing Dimmy had done. Offered her shelter after the... she felt her mind shy away from the memory but the pile of credits she now had stashed away was a heavy reminder. The feeling of being chased had been Shadows, a pair, moving swiftly through the streets as if they'd studied maps of the areas she was most likely to go to ground. Knowing what they were they probably had. Knowing how much of her habits were known, they had moved with deadly efficiency, flushing her down a chosen path that Book had felt would end in a dead end.
Perhaps literally this time. So she'd done something... abnormal. While taking the twists of the streets she'd called Dimmy (to be honest she'd called M1M1 but the end result was the same. The AI and her... did not get along) and then surprised even him. By asking for Kneecapper. She'd phrased it much more politely, leaning against a wall with a grunt of pain, but she'd waited on the line while Dimmy asked if Kneecapper would take her call. And he'd agreed - out of sheer morbid curiosity she figured. Dimmy's parting request that she be nice actually impacted her enough that she bit back the worst of her snark and was... as unfailingly polite and honest as she could be.
Maybe it was cheap - the price she ended up with was not a light price though - but she couldn't have fought the Shadows in even if she'd been uninjured. As soon as they'd started in on her once she was waiting for Kneecapper she realized how unevenly matched they were for her - the Shadows were faster than she was and fought together as a pair. It'd been a trick that let her evade them long enough that she could make a break further down the alleyway. And then, lo and behold - Kneecapper had arrived. It was wary relief that allowed her to push off of the wall, but then the Shadows stepped into the alleyway, much closer than she'd anticipated or guessed.
For most of the fight she'd been nothing more than an observer - clinically she studied the Shadows and Kneecapper, watching the battle and especially the Sith's style. Though the Shadows were capable against an opponent like her and they carried speed into their attacks and movements, they were unmatched for someone as battle-focused as her erstwhile ally proved to be. In the end there had been two corpses left splattered on the alleyway plascrete, two more deaths; maybe the Council would take heed of the warning now and end their pursuit. Maybe the next one would catch her when she couldn't call on a improbable ally.
She'd helped Kneecapper, taking from one of the Jedi just enough to keep him down, pinned by exhaustion and pain as she'd ripped life from him. And then she'd forced herself to watch them die. Because she had to see what she'd wrought.
Now she was leaning comfortably against a resting acklay, the Bucket freed from her hangar with the help of Sriia, some bribes, and deception. She was parked on the nearest planet in fact, her ship hull being taken apart by a well-paid crew who were divesting the Bucket of its newest unplanned additions, trackers and beacons.
One of them sounded an alarm Book finally found when curiosity had prompted her to check the crew's progress, the woman cursing as she blanked out the signal - but who knew how long it'd been alerting. She raced back to her console and fired up one of the terminals, realizing that even though the hangar had been sealed the Bucket hadbeen compromised. She couldn't even tell who the beacon had been a signal too but given who was after her.... she rather fancied the Order or the Republic itself were going to close in again.
"Finish the sweep," she called out, voice clipped. The workers had stopped at her abrupt movement but at the order they once more began their work, finally running giving her the thump on the shoulder she'd been waiting for that signaled their work was done. Climbing back into the ship she whistled for Sparks to come, turning to look for Sriia to get off dirstside and back to safety as quickly as possible.
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