Jedi Artisan 006

Several days had passed since they boarded the ship, and in that time, Zane had generously liberated the old engineers of their spending money. Of course, he took pity on them, and lost a couple times on purpose. Handing over a pair of Silent Muffs, he had talked shit, shared rumors, and generically bonded with those crotchety old assholes. 

During that time, he had learnt gossip, and all sorts of things regarding the ships’ personnel. Afterwards, he had started a journey going from section to section. By playing cards with the fellas, and spreading creds liberally, the surly crew slowly warmed up to him. 

At the moment, he was in the weapon systems loading bay, surrounded by a half dozen people who were watching him duel three others. Chewing on an Ithonian water wrap, he inhaled uniquely flavored water, and blew vapor rings into the air. Glancing at his opponents like a used car salesman looking at his mark, he let loose with a shady grin. 

“So, you guys hear about that new guy, Jenson Jarstone from the third shift? I hear he was assigned to the Hammerhead the day the ship was set to depart.” Zane said conversationally, casually tossing some creds into the pot as he upped the ante. 

“A strange man, I heard him talking in the refresher, man was worrying over a call to his girlfriend or something.” A pigfaced player snorted across from Zane. 

Zane scratched his chin, feeling that there was more to the story. 

“Heh, you guy's wanna know what his girlfriend's name was?” Pigface greasily grinned. “It was one Miss Czerka! Oh, she was most angry with his performance! Demanding that he help her get the dirt on some Damask fellow.” The man lewdly wriggled his eyebrows, eliciting several laughs from everyone at the table. 

Zane, meanwhile, drummed his fingers, and frowned. This trip to Mimban was looking more and more complex as time dragged on. What was supposed to be a ‘simple’ task of negotiating a fair settlement between Damask Holdings, and the Mimban natives, was swiftly evolving into corporate espionage, and possibly, corporate warfare. The fact that a Czerka corp spy had been inserted the day that they left Coruscant was highly concerning. Of course, it didn’t help that Damask Holdings was the front for Darth Plagueis. 

Holding his forehead, he didn't realize it was his turn until an elbow gently nudged him in the side. Glancing up at the hopeful expressions of a bunch of guys expecting a big payday, Zane roused himself from his malaise, and slapped a grin on his face. 

“Smuggler's Draw, read'em and weep, boys!” Zane slammed the cards in his hand down on the table, making several credit chips clink. 

Several judicial officers grumbled across from him, and revealed their hands one by one. Seeing that their cards were no good, Zane was smirking from ear to ear. Reaching a hand forward, he scooped up the pot, and stood with a bow. 

“Thank you gentlemen, but this is where I call it quits. Next time.” Nodding at the listless/peeved losers, he stepped out of the weapons bay, and the facade of joviality quickly left his face. 

Flicking a single credit chit in-between his fingers, Zane sighed to himself, and made for his quarters. Along the way, the sound of Foke's mechanical gears was a constant reminder that he was always being watched. Many of the crewmates nodded at him along the way, and he was quick to smile in response. 

Not only had he been socializing with the gamblers, but he had also put his Season Shaker to good use. Anything put into the ‘salt shaker’ was transformed into seasoning once he shook it. Although he didn't 100% understand how he achieved this level of transmutation, what mattered was, this seasoning was delicious. No matter the species, it was universally beloved. As such, he had become quite popular for this spice alone. Especially considering that this was a military vessel, and good food wasn't necessarily a priority for the bean counters back home. 

Arriving at their shared quarters, the doors hissed open, revealing his partner in crime lounging on the bed. Dataslate in front of her, the red skinned alien was reading a holonovel to pass the time. Robe hanging to the side, she was wearing the equivalent of full body pajamas, and was quite cute. Zane had knitted her a baby Yoda cap, and sewn in things like shooting stars, comets, and rainbows into her nightwear. The way she was very seriously focusing on the text somehow made her attractive in his eyes. What could he say, he found well read, intelligent women to be attractive! 

She was so engrossed in her book-and accustomed to Zane's presence-that she didn't even offer a hello to his arrival. 

Hanging up his robe, and kicking off his boots, he propped a pillow up, and got into bed. Flicking a credit chip up into the air and catching it again and again, he entered a sort of chill zen-like state. Focusing on the Force, and trying to affect the odds of probability, he made the credit want to flip towards ‘heads’ each time he gave it a flip. When he was a boy, he had trained his telekinesis to come to the same conclusion. As he grew older, and came across the more mysterious aspect of the Force-thanks Master Oogway-he discovered that there were tons of esoteric abilities. 

Lifting a spaceship out of some swamp was impressive, and he could do that with ease. However, probability manipulation seemed so much more fun. Although he was only a novice, he could already see phantom probabilities around everyday people. Predicting where a person would walk next, what their next words would be, it was quite exciting. Ordinary Jedi would call this Battle Precognition, but Zane found it was helpful in more than battle. Of course, it didn’t work as well on other Force Sensitives, or high level thinkers, but ordinary people's actions were as easy to read as 1,2,3. 

Whilst he entered this meditative state, Zane also silently shared his presence with Shaak Ti. As much as she would deny it, a small Force Bond had existed between the two of them since childhood. Although it wasn't particularly potent, whilst the two of them were in the same room-and meditating at the same time-the Bond provided a level of comfort that was unmatched. Zane couldn't really describe it with words, as the sensation was quite otherworldly. All he could say is that it felt like being wrapped in a warm blanket, or walking in the sun on a perfect day. No wind, no cold spots, no upset stomach, no annoying noises. Only you, your favorite person, and the comfortableness of lying on a cloud. 

For a time, neither of them said a word, silently enjoying one another's company, whilst engrossed in their own activities. 

Eventually, the soft clink of the credit landing in his palm drew Shaak Ti’s attention. She looked up from the datapad she had been reviewing, and narrowed her eyes as a metallic gleam streaked across her face. 

“Please tell me that you are not still doing that.” Shaak Ti said in a judgemental tone. 

Zane didn’t look at her, and sent the credit spinning again, the metal flashing once before dropping neatly between his fingers. “Define that.”

“Taking money from the crew.” She snapped. “They work double shifts to keep this relic flying. Gambling with them, taking their hard-earned credits, this goes against the spirit of the Code.”

“Always the spirit of the Code with you, little Ti Ti. You know it's only, what, five lines long. Besides, I think the original is better.” Zane rolled his eyes with a scoff, and continued with his activities. 

“That is not the point, and you know it.”

Zane rolled the credit across his knuckles, up a sleeve, through his pajama shirt, and out the other sleeve in one smooth motion.

“The Code doesn't actually say anything about forming attachments, you know? There's nothing in it detailing terrible card play. If anything, I’ve taught them a valuable life lesson.” Zane spoke like a generic do-gooder, and raised his nose to the ceiling, as if he had accomplished a noble goal. 

Shaak Ti stared at him, unimpressed.

“…Also, I gave half of it back. It's not like I'm using this money for any nefarious purpose.” He shrugged. 

Her expression didn’t soften, and a raised eyebrow at the Ithonian water wrap tucked in his ear was just more fuel to the flame. 

“So~” Zane continued, seamlessly changing course as he sat up. “About the crew manifest. I was curious, just how many people were assigned to the ship at the last minute, just before departure?”

Rolling her eyes at him, she turned back to the datapad, and tapped a few buttons. 

“Only two. Jenson Jarstone, and Emma Lightring.”

Zane nodded, as if confirming a suspicion. 

“Thought so.”

“You found something?” She leaned in closer to him, looking up at him curiously. 

The bed was somewhat cramped by this point, and her lekku unconsciously dangled across his body, making it feel like electricity was flowing into his lower body. Biting his lower lip to control his physiological urges, Zane blew out a slow breath, and returned to business. 

“What, you thought I was playing those games just for the pleasure of it? For the coin?! Come now, my dear Shaak Ti, everything I do is for a reason!” 

“Get on with it.” She deadpanned. 

Zane turned the credit over once more, then closed his fingers around it. “They’re both corporate spies. Different fronts, different patrons. Czerka Corporation has backed Jarstone, whilst Damask Holdings-the principle interest regarding this mission-is behind Lightring.”

Shaak Ti rose from her spot in bed, vacating a comfortable warm spot, and messing up his support. 

“Then we should confront them. Now.” Shaak Ti demanded. 

She took a step to grab her robe, but Zane had sprung up to stop her. 

He reached out and caught her wrist, halting her mid-stride. The sudden contact sent a visible flush across her cheeks, her eyes flicking down to where his fingers rested against her skin.

“No can do, my red beauty. If we grab them now, the people pulling their strings will know they’ve been discovered. To catch a Wompa, you have to bait the Womp Rat first.” Zane said in a sage-like tone, mimicking Master Oogway. 

“They could sabotage the ship. This isn't a game, Zane.’ 

“They won’t, at least not yet. They’re here to watch, and gather information. To discover why two pesky Jedi Knights have come barreling into trade negotiations with a Force-forsaken warship of all things.” Zane replied with a wide smile. 

Shaak Ti searched his face, then exhaled through her nose. “…I don’t like it. See, this is why we should've taken the Consular-class light cruiser.” 

“But where would the fun be in that?” Zane murmured huskily. “Besides, it is a game, and we're going to win. I've placed trackers on their possessions, and sliced their dataslates, I know everything~” Zane boasted. 

“...then if you already knew ‘everything’ why did you have me check the manifests?!?!” Shaak Ti practically spat, and poked him sharply in the chest. 

“Well, I didn't want you to feel bored or useless.” Zane unapologetically shrugged with a roguish grin. 

“You are incorrigible.” She said, and then tried to pull her wrist free.

Zane didn’t let go.

She looked down again, then back up at him, her voice flattening into a perfectly deadpan monotone. “Zane.”

“Hmm?”

“You have made your point.”

“Have I?” He glanced down at her lekku, which at some point, had begun to dangle below his waist. 

“Yes. You may release me now.” She tried to keep a level tone, however, the way her lekku rubbed up against that had her blushing mad. 

Zane blinked, as if just noticing his hand, then smiled faintly. “Oh. Right. Of course.”

He still didn’t move.

Her eyes narrowed. “Zane.”

He released her at last, and sat back in bed. Shaak Ti folded her arms, cheeks still faintly colored, and climbed under the covers so fast, she was a blur. Hiding her head with a blanket, and turning away from him, she buried her blushing face into her arms. 

“I swear, the Force tests my patience far more when you are involved.” She muttered. 

Zane leaned back again, flicked the credit once more into the air, and caught it with a soft clink, utterly unrepentant in his actions. 

“The odds are in my favor.” He said to himself with a smirk, and glanced at Shaak Ti's hidden, shapely backside. “And intelligent women are just too sassy for their own good. They deserve punishment.” 

Hearing that last word, Shaak Ti quivered in place, and their Force Bond grew that much deeper.