Fic: "If You Call" (11/16? J/Z AU; sequel to FaIC)

[moonlightrick]

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten



x-x-x

Jaina managed to dodge every pedestrian, stall, and hovercar in their way, but Zekk felt certain that they had left behind at least one near accident just due to others’ panic. Jaina didn’t slow down until they were well into the warehouse district-not too far from the Dustbowl, if Zekk wasn’t very mistaken. Checking over her shoulder, she took several alleys that barely counted as walkways; Zekk hunched his shoulders, and still expected to not fit. In front of him, Jaina was relaxed-perhaps for the first time since they had run into each other at the Dustbowl.

Although she had given no warning, Zekk leaned in with Jaina as she turned into an underground parking lot. She parked a little too carelessly, and pulled her helmet off before dismounting. “I just have to...” When he looked, she was pressing parts of the nearest wall. “Something Kyp and I rigged up as an alarm. Well.” She grinned. “Mostly me.”

“An alarm,” he noted, looking around.

“As invisible as possible. It won’t stop them for long, but nobody will get in here without making a whole lot of racket-plenty of time for us to get into place for either fight or flight.”

“Aren’t alarms more computer-oriented than your usual?”

Jaina snorted. “Never doubt my tinkering skills. If it’s related to a machine, I’ll figure it out.”

“Let me guess: something you got from your father.”

“Exactly. Never doubt the Solo genes-well, besides Jacen, but there’s one in every family-and my grandfather just seals the deal.”

Zekk gave her a look as she led him to the far end of the lot. “You’re talking about your mom’s father, aren’t you?”

“You see why we get bored on our ‘relaxing’ vacations. Nothing makes sense if it won’t land us in therapy.” She smirked back at him.

He caught up with her, and thought about putting an arm around her shoulders. Deciding that wisdom was the better part of valour, however, and that he didn’t really need to get dropkicked with Kyp around the corner, Zekk only nudged Jaina with his elbow. “So the adrenaline addiction is genetic, is what you’re saying.”

“Adrenaline and melodramatic redemptions,” she agreed, her smile flattening unexpectedly. She gestured ahead of them at the wall furthest from the parking lot entrance. “Can you see the door?” she asked.

He gave her a look, but inspected the wall. On first glance it was only a seamless slab of concrete, but his mouth twisted. “There’s something-” He reached out to touch it, and startled when his fingers went straight through. Jaina was grinning at him, but he ignored her. “You didn’t design this.”

“Nah, but it’s handy.” She waved a hand through the surprisingly real-looking holo. She stepped partway through it; half her mouth smirked at him. “What are we waiting for?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Kyp’s voice scolded from the other side.

Zekk gritted his teeth, remembered Jaina’s smile from the night before, and stepped through the holo-wall. On the other side of the mirage there was an industrial sized door. Kyp Durron was leaning against the wall next to it, looking tense. “You’re late,” he said.

Jaina stopped in front of Kyp, studying him. “I told you we would be. What’s wrong?”

“Joolu was on edge this morning.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Jaina’s eyes darted to Zekk.

“Joolu isn’t the most stable guy around,” Zekk reminded them, but Jaina’s frown only deepened.

Kyp ignored him. “C’mon, the others are waiting.” He keyed the door open and led Jaina through; Zekk followed them before Kyp could try to lock him out. “Did Joolu say anything to you?” the other man asked Jaina.

She shook her head, shoulder-to-shoulder with Kyp as they walked up a flight of stairs. “Joolu really wasn’t in the mood to see a woman. I got out of there as soon as I could.”

Zekk’s hackles rose. “How often do you have to be around him, anyway?”

Kyp glanced back at him. “What’s wrong, kid-jealous?”

Jaina’s face darkened, but she slowed to walk with Zekk. “We should be getting out of here soon,” she said. “We almost have enough evidence.”

“Won’t Traest recognize you?”

“If Traest shows up, he won’t leave a free man. I invite him to stop by any time.”

“I meant more if he recognizes you and sends Joolu instead of coming himself.”

Jaina’s eyes flashed. “I can handle myself in a fight.”

“If you’ve finished your unnecessary fretting,” Kyp interrupted Zekk’s reply, “you could help finish this, and actually do your debriefing.”

What he really needed to do, Zekk decided, was get Jaina drunk and find out Kyp’s most embarrassing moments. There had to be a tabloid somewhere that would pay for good dirt. Or-hadn’t Jaina said once that Kyp was in love with someone? Zekk and Sanar should definitely meet.

Jaina’s fingers curled around his elbow again, an absent assurance despite their issues; he pushed aside thoughts of petty revenge for later. If Jaina could hunt her kriffer of an ex-fiancé, Zekk was old enough to sabotage Kyp’s cool after the dangerous mission. He smiled at Jaina, drawing her into the joke on Kyp’s maturity, and failed to respond to Kyp at all.

They walked down a plain hallway and through another keypad-locked door before Jaina and Kyp relaxed. Kyp tossed a last scowl at Zekk before stepping through the last door. Jaina gave Zekk a half-smile and dropped her hand from his arm. “I promise they don’t bite,” she said, a little too amused by the way he had paused at the entrance.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve already met Kyp, and I know you. They do bite.”

“Just a little,” she laughed. “But you’re a big bad street survivor, right? That’s why you jumped head first into a sentient trafficking and experimentation mission.”

“That the guy you were talking about, Jay?” a strange voice called through the door.

Jaina walked through the entrance; Zekk followed her. “No,” she said, “I picked up a stranger and brought him in. You know how the guys react when they find out I’m a Jedi.” Her cheeks flushed suddenly, and she wouldn’t look at Zekk.

Biting back a grin, Zekk glanced around the room. It had probably been a factory floor once, judging by its size and high ceilings. A long table dominated the front of the room, while computers were at the back. The lights faded in the other corners, but Zekk could see screens flickering in the dark. Near the door was something that tried to be a kitchen; instead, it was clearly a shrine to the caf machine, and just happened to be cluttered with nutri-boosters and quick food. A dozen mugs were pushed next to a sink, waiting for someone to think about asleep.

His eyes returned to the table, which was covered in datapads, flimsi, and more mugs. There were no chairs, but he could see several bedrolls pushed against the left wall. (If they looked more like training mats, Zekk told himself that was just paranoid.) Throughout the Jedi’s temporary base was the kind of casual mess that happened when people lived at their work. He couldn’t be surprised by Jaina’s bruised eyes except that they had bedrolls at all.

“No wonder you don’t sleep,” he muttered to Jaina, glancing around at the chaos. “Can you guys actually think in here?” But even he could feel the hum of adrenaline and purpose, working its way under his skin and tugging him forward. Even noticing him, Jaina’s team kept working around each other, together, with ease; who needed sleep?

Jaina didn’t even bother telling him not to nag this time. Her back had already straightened in a way he thought her mother had never quite managed to teach her. The brown-eyed woman gave him a smile, but seemed somehow removed from him-the Jedi, his friend. “We’ll sleep when we’re dead,” she said. Her tone was brisker, like it was whenever she talked about her missions.

“Never mind the guy Solo was talking about,” said a woman’s voice. “Is this the one Durron was talking about?” A humanoid woman vaulted over the wide table and walked until she was too close to them. “Green eyes, black hair, twice your height-definitely your type, Solo. You should invest in some heels.” The woman grinned literally from ear to ear; combined with her deep purple skin, she was obviously not as humanoid as Zekk had thought, but he didn’t recognize her species.

Jaina seemed unimpressed by the other Jedi’s disconcerting smile and lack of personal space. “Really don’t start, Krichi.”

The violet woman widened her eyes, showing off the cat-like shape and pupils. “He already dumped you and then butted into the mission, he must have figured it out by now.”

“Oh, good,” said a male voice. “Has the banter started again? We’ll make some popped corn, won’t be a minute.”

Jaina’s face relaxed, and she and Krichi rolled their eyes in tandem. “Yarex,” Jaina said, sounding pleased. “Where are you, anyway?”

“Just going over your boy’s data.” Zekk heard decisive tapping, and then a shadow blocked some of the screens in the farthest corner of the room. Yarex was an older man, grey-haired but straight-backed. It took Zekk an extra moment to realize that the human man had only one real leg, the other substituted with a propulsion machine. “Don’t mind the leg,” the main said, catching Zekk’s look. “Helps me fly. Jaina, you’re late, aren’t you? Any trouble?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Yarex gave her a wry look. “I hear that a lot when I work with you Solos. Always makes me worry what’s actually going on, you and your cosiness with trouble.”

“Comes with a Solo birth certificate,” Jaina said, grinning.

“It must,” Yarex agreed. “Though this one here makes me think it’s not just blood.” He turned to Zekk. “Ready for your debriefing? Jaina, you’ll stay here.” He glanced back at her. “Grab something to eat, and then help Krichi with the reports.”

Jaina grimaced. “Paperwork? I could-”

“The reports, Solo, unless that’s the shared limit of your family’s talent?”

“Save the galaxy for a headache in triplicate,” Jaina muttered. “Yes, sir, I’m going.”

“And try not to swear in them this time, you’ll just have to edit them.” Yarex raised an eyebrow at Zekk. “She knows an impressive amount of Huttese for a Core girl.”

“She’s fluent in Wookiee, too, I think,” Zekk said. “But that’s harder to write down, I’m sure.”

“Well, if we hear growling, we’ll know she’s giving it a try. Over here, lad, this’ll take a while. You’d better take a seat.”

Zekk threw a last glance at Jaina, who was pouring herself an enormous mug of caf but was at least gnawing on the nutri-bar he’d insisted on, and then followed Yarex to the far corner of the room.

x-x-x

After nearly three hours of being grilled by Yarex on everything Zekk had seen, heard, smelled, and thought during every moment of contact with Joolu, Traest, and while otherwise in the base, the dark-haired man could barely remember what it had actually been like. Yarex had him study hundreds of holo-images to see if he could identify any of the scientists or the lackeys.

“Can’t you just-pick it out of my head?” Zekk finally snapped. The morning’s minor hangover headache was ready to turn into a migraine. That, combined with his still tumbling thoughts, and despite his growing hatred of Traest’s entire enterprise, was making him waspish.

Yarex only raised an eyebrow. “You actually want someone combing through your thoughts? Kyp Durron is the expert here, we could call him over…”

Zekk scowled at him.

“Didn’t think so.” Yarex shrugged. “Anyway, it would never stand up in court. A Jedi saw it in your head? And if your thoughts were influenced at all, then another person seeing them would just have another story. Court work is done the old-fashioned way, thank you. We’re almost finished the primary work, though; we can take a break soon.”

Zekk pinched the bridge of his nose, gathering himself. “Okay, right.” Dropping his hand, he took a drink of water.

“Traest said he recognized you, at about 2:17 of your mission recording. Any idea how?”

“You asked this already, didn’t you?” Zekk waved his hand. “Old-fashioned way. I lived in the Coruscant undercity from age nine up until half a year ago. It’s a big planet, but not that big-especially for street rats. You see a lot of faces, keep track of them as much as you can according to threat.”

Yarex’s gaze was heavy; Zekk shifted in his seat. “Also,” he continued, “Traest works for Brakiss, who tried to ‘recruit’ me years ago-about the same time as Traest, as far as I can tell. I never saw him-Brakiss kept me locked up after I tried to escape-but I suppose it’s possible that there was some kind of record, or that Traest saw me unawares.”

“Jaina mentioned that.” Yarex cleared his throat, and spoke more clearly. “Jedi Knight Jaina Solo mentioned in previous conversation with myself, Yarex Dilsbran, that Zekk had had contact with the Dark Jedi Brakiss. Got away, though.” Yarex’s gaze was neutral of both pity and suspicion.

“I thought he was delusional.”

“Even when he locked you up in a nice room on an Imperial battlestation?”

Zekk’s grip tightened on his glass of water. “Nothing in my life had any connection to what he was talking about. He may as well have told me I’d learn to fly.”

“Well, we call it a Force jump, actually,” Jaina suddenly interrupted.

When Zekk turned around, she was only a foot behind his chair. “A- What?”

“We don’t fly, we jump and fall with exceptional skill.” She wiggled the fingers of her right hand. “And the Force. You finished yet, Yarex?”

Yarex glanced down at his data-processor, flicked through some pages, and then glanced at his chrono. “Is he going to take off, or will I be able to talk to him again?”

“You’re finished,” Jaina said, at the same that Zekk said, “I’ll be around.” Jaina and Zekk exchanged a look; Jaina’s inscrutable, Zekk’s intent.

When Jaina didn’t continue, Zekk did. “I’ll be around for a few more days at least-my ship’s captain can be unpredictable, but she’ll give us warning. After that, Jaina will be able to get into contact with me.”

“I’ll hold my breath, shall I?” he heard Jaina mutter under her breath. Louder, she told Yarex, “I have his former guardian’s number, I’ll be able to pass on the message that way, at the very least. Peckhum will bring him around.”

“You think I’m going to take off?” Zekk demanded. He had been making progress, hadn’t he?

Jaina, however, looked unmoved. “I just can’t tell, anymore, what you’re going to do.”

“If you two children are finished,” Yarex interrupted, “or at least capable of a temporary ceasefire, I only need Zekk’s signature, and then we’re done here.”

Zekk had carefully avoided signing anything in his life, so it could have been his unfamiliarity with paperwork, but he suspected that Yarex made up a few dozen extra forms requiring his signature. Only when Jaina began to look amused did Yarex say, “Last one.”

Zekk finished with his best flourish. “That everything?” he asked. He was beginning to feel outnumbered.

Yarex grinned. “For now.” He glanced down. “Clear head, though. You did well. Jaina was right about that.”

Zekk flushed; when he turned to look at Jaina, she was faring no better. “Do you have a scrap of flimsi somewhere?” he asked the older man. “Thanks,” he added, when Yarex gave him a quarter of a page. He used one of the styluses without asking, jotting down several lines of information. “Here, Jaina.” He held it out to her. “My comm number. We ship on Coruscant time, but I get woken up at odd hours all the time, so…”

Jaina took it carefully, barely glancing at the number before slipping it into her jacket pocket. “I can check it later,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “What, you don’t trust me?”

She gave him a look, but didn’t answer. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

He let it go for the moment. “Just a few minutes without being interrogated would be great.”

“Yeah, karma’s a kriffer,” Jaina said brightly. “We have some couches up front.”

“I didn’t see any,” he grumbled. He wondered if Jaina would let him hang onto her and rest his head on her shoulder. The jacket that she had changed into looked soft, even if the wearer was back to being annoyed with him.

She slowed down to keep pace with him. “We usually keep it in the dark area during the night. We only just moved it back out.”

“You mean one of you actually slept last night?” he asked, rubbing his temples.

“Obviously you didn’t.” She gave him a look that he only saw out of the corner of his eye. “And-you don’t have a hangover, do you?”

“Just a small one,” he insisted. “The headache was mostly gone before Yarex started on the interrogation.”

“He actually let you off pretty easy,” Jaina offered. “It’s different when you’re part of the team-we write dozens of reports in triplicate, debrief, then show up in court a couple times. Yarex had to get as much written down and signed for you as he could, though, just in case.”

“I spent most of my adolescence trying to avoid questions,” he said, glancing at her.

She grinned. “Me, too. You’ll just have to get used to them again. Here.” She waited while he sat on the hover couch that had indeed been pushed to the wall a few feet from the entrance. “We have some headache pills around here somewhere…”

She left and returned before he could protest. She held out a glass of water and a bright blue pill. “Ta da.” She sat on the other side of the couch, but there wasn’t much room between them.

“And you say I’m a mother hen,” he muttered-quietly, though, because her eyes had softened a little. He swallowed the pill and water quickly before looking at her. “How much longer before you issue arrests?” he asked.

She surveyed the factory floor and the reduced number of Jedi still working. “We have some details we still need to get; pin down as many names and last infractions as we can before they close ranks. If we could catch Traest in the act, it’d seal up his case, but otherwise we should be ready to go in soon.” She looked up as Kyp approached them.

“Once you’ve found the base, you mean,” Zekk interjected.

Jaina made a face, but Kyp was the one who answered. “We’re working on that now,” he told Jaina, looking weary. Zekk wondered how much sleep the team had gotten, on average, since the mission started. “Krichi is going over the desert with a digital comb as we speak.”

“Gods.” Jaina dropped her head on the back of the couch. “Talk about headaches.”

“You get your turn right after me.”

Jaina raised her head again to beam, the warning sign of a computer’s violent death in the near future. “Yes, oh thank you.”

“We could switch spots,” Kyp suggested, looking similarly enthused. “You can go next instead.”

“No, no, Kyp, real tabloid love requires sacrifice. I’ll take one for the holo-capture. You can go first.”

“Your bravery inspires me. They’ll write poems about you someday, you and your willingness to sacrifice.” He brushed Jaina’s shoulder with his hand. “Almost done.”

She smiled more genuinely, reflecting warmth back at Kyp. “Yes.”

“I’ll let you know when it’s your turn,” the other Jedi said, and gave her a sandwich Zekk hadn’t noticed. “You look like sith warmed over, Solo, your dad’ll kill me. Eat something, will you?”

“I’m twenty-six,” she protested as Kyp left. “I can- My parents still have spies everywhere. What?” She looked at Zekk, nibbling on the sandwich.

Zekk studied her face, the lingering warmth from her banter with the other Jedi. “Kyp knows about Traest.”

She scowled at him, but soon dropped the expression. “I told you, he was there.” She smiled at the other side of the room, where Kyp was obviously either provoking or flirting with Krichi. “He signed up for this mission before I’d even heard of it.”

“No wonder the tabloids are obsessed with you two,” Zekk grumbled discontentedly.

She laughed at him, a lighter sound. “Kyp’s family. I grew up with him, and we have prank wars, and we’ve always been there for each other. Especially after- But we’d probably kill each other if we ever lived together with romantic pretensions.”

Zekk wanted to say something to draw her closer to him, but his headache had receded enough that he knew it wouldn’t work as well as he wanted it to. Jaina kept glancing at the other Jedi to measure the work they still had to do. “Is there anything else I can do to help?” he asked instead.

Jaina looked back at him. “How’s your head?” she asked in a way that told he was only underfoot, splitting her attention.

He grinned at her. “Much better now. I was thinking, I’ve kind of disappeared on the crew for the past few days, and with Raven knowing that I’m friendly with a Jedi…”

“Stars.” Jaina rubbed her face. “If they give you trouble-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he tried to tell her.

“-just tell them Jedi don’t deal with general smuggling. Sentient trafficking and slave transportation, sure, but we leave everything else up to actual governments. There isn’t even close to enough of us to worry about all the different legislation on trade, by which I do mean a headache billions of statutes, and-”

“There are other jobs,” he pointed out, a little surprised by her concern.

“-it’s completely outside of our jurisdiction, so the amount of toes we’d be stepping on is just-really, I’d be in more trouble than any of your crew.” She frowned, finally listening to him. “I know that, but you obviously enjoy it. You can remind her who my dad is, that might help.”

“Really, don’t worry about it. I just have to smooth out some feathers, and I did most of that last night. Raven knows I’m not actually a liability.”

Jaina’s face darkened before she hid the expression. “That’s good,” she said stiltedly. “That…Raven knows.”

He gave her an odd look, but shrugged and stood. “Anyway, I should go do that, and let you finish up here.”

“What? Oh, right.” She frowned and looked around the room. She didn’t say anything else, instead looked around; she seemed faintly perplexed.

“Jaina?” he prompted.

She shook her head. “Sorry. Here.” She stood and fished a key out of her pocket. “Take the bike. You remember the way back, right?”

“Have you seen Coruscant’s undercity?” He took the key. “Mos Eisley is nothing. Most of the streets even have names, not to mention just one level.”

She grinned absently, glancing at Kyp and Krichi before looking back at him. “You have a weapon?”

He raised an eyebrow, but decided that Jaina’s team had earned some measure of paranoia. He pulled up the hem of his jacket, letting her see his shoulder holster. “Street rat, remember?”

“Dark Jedi, organized crime, and Force sensitive experimentation, remember?” she retorted. “I should walk you to the bike myself.”

Zekk could imagine Peckhum’s gleeful reaction to that, but Zekk’s pride refused to be walked to the door like a child just so that he could think about kissing Jaina at an inappropriate moment. “You won’t, actually,” he said.

“If this is about your ego,” she told him, smirking a little, “I am a Jedi. I’ve protected people far more bad ass than you.” She had mostly relaxed, though; she wouldn’t insist.

“You’re also two feet shorter than me,” he replied.

“That is a foul exaggeration-”

“Not much of one,” he told her. “And I might not be a Jedi, but I can survive without the mystical life-long training.”

“It doesn’t take that long anymore,” she said. “Nothing compared to the Old Republic. The in-class training, especially.”

One more thing to talk about after the mission. Zekk wondered if he should make a list. “I’ll see you later?”

“I have to pick up the bike,” she agreed.

Zekk squeezed her shoulder as he walked past her to the doorway. “Stay out of trouble, will you?”

She grinned up at him. “I’m good with trouble, we’re old friends. You be careful.”

“I always am,” he said, looking right at the proof of that lie.

Jaina only rolled her eyes and went back to work.

x-x-x

Zekk was pulling the bike out of the carport fifteen minutes later. He looked back at the warehouse, feeling as if he had missed or lost something. It was becoming familiar in the past week, though, so he tried to ignore it. Peckhum would only pick up on his preoccupation and insist it had something to do with-

The stun bolt took Zekk completely by surprise.

x-x-x

Part Twelve

Lyrics: Call and Answer, Barenaked Ladies.

Please R&R?