something she had rehearsed. “I need to get to Coruscant as soon as possible.”
He chuckled. “That makes two of us.”
His response threw her off. “How do you mean?”
“Never mind. Coruscant isn’t exactly Jedi-friendly at the moment.”
“No. And this … isn’t sanctioned by the Order.”
Her response threw him off. He’d never known Aryn to buck orders.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You’ll want to wait until the negotiations on Alderaan are completed, right? See how things shake out? In a week—”
“I can’t wait.”
“No? Why?”
She sat back in her chair as if to open some distance between them, room for a lie maybe. “I need to get something from the Temple.”
“What?”
“Something personal.”
He leaned forward, closing the gap between them, reducing the room for falsehoods. “Aryn, we haven’t seen each other in years. You show up out of a nebula and tell me you want my help to get to a world just conquered by the Empire and that getting you there isn’t sanctioned by the Jedi Order.”
He let her stew in that for a moment before continuing. “Maybe I want to help you. Maybe I can.”
She looked up at that, hope in her eyes.
“You were there for me when I went through a tough time. But I need to understand what’s really happening here.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I missed you and didn’t know it.”
He felt his cheeks warm and tried to hide his discomfiture. Of course, he could hide nothing from her. She would feel the warmth her words put in him.
She slid her chair forward and crossed her hands on the table. He was very conscious of how close her hands were to his. It seemed he had missed her, too.
“The attack killed someone I cared about.”
The sinking feeling he felt surprised him.
“A husband?” Could Jedi even marry? He didn’t know.
She shook her head. “My master. Ven Zallow.”
“I’m sorry.” He touched her hand in sympathy and it put such a charge through him that he pulled away. Surprisingly, he did not see pain in her expression, but anger.
“The Temple will have vids of the attack. I need to see how he died.”
“It could’ve been bombs, Aryn. Anything.”
She shook her head before he finished his sentence. “No. It was a Sith.”
“You know this?”
“I know it. And I want to see that Sith, know his name.”
Insight dawned. “You want to kill him.”
She did not gainsay it.
He blew out a whistle. “Blast, Aryn, I thought you’d come here to arrest me.”
“Arrest you? Why?”
“Never mind,” he said. “No wonder the Order didn’t sanction your going to Coruscant. What would this do to the peace negotiations? You’re talking about assassinating someone.”
The coldness in her eyes was new to him. “I’m talking about avenging my master. They murdered him, Zeerid. I will not let it stand. Do you think I don’t know exactly what I am doing? What it will cost?”
“No, I don’t think you know.”
“You’re wrong. I want help from you, Zeerid, not a lecture. Now, I need to get to Coruscant. Will you help?”
He’d been working alone since he’d mustered out. Preferred it that way. But working with Aryn had always felt … right. If he was going to fly with anyone, it would be her.
His comm buzzed. He checked it, saw an encrypted message from Oren, decrypted it.
Goods are aboard Fatman. Leave immediately. Cargo is hot.
He looked across the table at Aryn. “Your timing is good.”
Her eyes formed a question.
“I’m flying to Coruscant, too. Right now.”
“What?” She looked dumbfounded.
He pushed back his chair and stood. “Coming?”
She stayed in her chair. “You’re flying to Coruscant? Now?”
“Right now.”
She stood. “Then yes, I’m coming.”
“Whatever you flew here, you need to leave it. We’re taking only my ship.”
Aryn tapped on her comlink and spoke over the sound of the casino.
“Tee-six, put the Raven in lockdown. I am going offplanet. Monitor our usual subspace channel, and I will contact you when I can.”
The droid’s answering beeps were lost to the cacophony.
They started picking their way through the crowd.
Aryn took him by the bicep and pulled his ear to her mouth. “It can’t be coincidence, you know. Consider the timing. The Force brought us here at this moment so that we can help each other. You see that, don’t you?”
At a table near them, bells rang and a Zabrak raised his arms high, shouting with joy.
“Jackpot!” the Zabrak said. “Jackpot!”
Zeerid decided that he had to tell her. He shouted over the noise. “If the Force brought us together, then the Force has an odd sense of humor.”
Her eyes narrowed in a question. “What are