Final Solution, Locked; Shay

[Mac Cheydin]

The Centurion’s Blade roared over the treetops of Ossus, the wash from the engines making the trees shudder. The YT-1930 was heavily laden with cargo, the most innocent looking cargo Mac had carried in months. It was merely a selection of goods, mostly foodstuffs. He’d mostly taken the job because of it’s inconspicuous cargo, a lot of crime had been done up over the months, and recently he’d even helped someone infiltrate a Confederation base, on Dolomar of all places. He was starting to wonder where his brain was at; all this crime couldn’t be healthy. So that was why he’d settled for something safe this time around, up to now, it had been quite uneventful. With all his credentials in order, no one saw the use in trying to stop him.

If he was going to be honest, it was all quite boring. Sure, he’d only done one run, and once he got used to it the boredom would dwindle away, but the famed kick one got from running from the law was a tempting reason to get the best lucrative deals no matter what the risk was. The credits usually made up for the risk of his life. He enjoyed risking his life, in a way, sometimes it made him feel more alive than he usually was. But that was merely a trick of the mind, he was alive, plenty alive, he just didn’t feel like it.

With a sigh he focused his attention back on the ship and where he was going. The sensors indicated the settlement he was supposed to be delivering his cargo to, it was a large structure, explaining why his load was so large. Keying his comm. he hailed the hangar control, having a short to the point exchange of words where he found out where he would have to place the Centurion in order to get the cargo unloaded. Following the instructions, he gently steered the freighter into the roomy hangar, eyeing the scattered freighters and ships. He saw one DeepWater-class light freighter, several Delta Aethersprite’s scattered around and a Delaya-class courier that looked eerily familiar to him. He was sure that this wasn’t the only hangar the settlement had, but he couldn’t know unless he checked.

Cutting the engines he let the repulsorlifts take over, gently settling the ship down onto her landing struts. Flicking the appropriate switches to initiate the power down process, he sat for a moment in his seat, staring out of the viewport, at the figures flitting about on the hangar deck. Some were dressed in normal coveralls, but many were dressed in the traditional Jedi attire that one heard about so much. Looked quite drab, really.

Drumming his fingers on the armrests, he sat for a moment, before finally standing up. Making his way from the cockpit, he slowly pulled off his jacket as he went, dropping the worn nerf-hide jacket on one of the chairs around the holo table. Pulling up his sleeves of his white shirt, he had a quick look at himself on one particular reflective piece of durasteel on the bulkhead. His hair was a right mess and he had a few days worth of stubble and he noted that he’d have to get rid of that as soon as he had cleared up his business with the Jedi. He wondered briefly if he should store his DL-44 in the weapons locker, but dismissed the idea as quickly as it had come. The Jedi wouldn’t find it offensive, and despite the fact that it didn’t increase his security much, he felt more secure with the familiar weight on his hip.

Arriving at the ramp, he slapped the controls and the ramp lowered slowly. He cast a glance towards the nearby cargo hold, seeing the crates piled up and fastened down, he didn’t see anything out of place, but that wasn’t odd. The crates hadn’t exactly had a bumpy ride. Descending the ramp, he stepped onto the bustling hangar deck with the steady buzz of conversation and the metallic sounds of tools being used. His arrival seemed insignificant compared to the flurry of activity going on, the Centurion merging in with the landscape and appearing as if she’d always been there.

He turned his attention to one mechanic approaching him, and as the man raised a hand in greeting, Mac returned it. He stood still as the mechanic came closer, knowing that this was probably the man he was supposed to talk to in order to get his cargo unloaded.

“You’re the captain with our goods from Denon?”

“Yes, Captain Cheydin, it’s all in there,” he said, jerking one hand towards the entry ramp of the Centurion.

“Good,” the mechanic said, giving Mac a pleasant smile. “I’ll get someone to order the droids to unload the cargo.” At that, he left Mac alone by his ship, no doubt assuming Mac would stay with the Centurion as the unloading was going on. The mechanic was correct of course.

[Shay Marin]

It's strange to be recognized by so many people, Shay thought to herself as she strode through the broad hallways of the Jedi temple. She was used to slipping through crowds without catching anyone's attention by design. Her work was made easier if she created as few ripples as possible in the world around her. On Ossus, such stealth was unnecessary; she had no reason to hide from view here. However, a few weeks ago most of the Jedi here wouldn't have recognized her either, so little time did she spend in her childhood home. What recognition she did get was usually tinged by wariness, due to the nature of the work and the sort of news she often carried.

That had all changed since she was appointed to sit on the Council. Now everyone made a point of it to greet her when she went by. Several of her fellow Jedi had even taken the opportunity to ask her for advice on all sorts of matters. Shay didn't begrudge them that, of course; she was always happy to help out as best she could. Still, it felt very odd to be noticed so much, to say nothing of being looked up to as an actual authority figure. She could not help but appreciate the irony, that what was normal for others of her kind felt positively surreal to her. Further proof that you'd spent far too much time out in the field, sister. You probably should've come home a long time ago.

Responding automatically to the acknowledgments and inquiries as to her condition, Shay focused the majority of her attention on the datapad in her hand as she rounded a corner. The Order wasn't too big on paperwork for the most part, but things like mission reports were required to be submitted for inclusion in the Jedi Archives. Master Marin had been putting off filing her formal dissertation on the events she'd participated in across the greater galaxy ever since she arrived on Ossus. Not that she was a procrastinator by nature, but other things had seemed more important to see to first. Her mind had needed a break, and it wouldn't have gotten that if she'd remained focused on the recent past. After all, the recent past--and certain people in it--was mostly why she needed the break in the first place!

She'd been working on the damn thing for about three hours now, constructing paragraph after paragraph of the properly dry and detailed prose, and Shay was more than ready for a break. What she'd intended to do on her break was to work on her lightsabers; fiddling with the settings and the crystal alignments always soothed her for some reason. Only then had she realized she'd left her toolkit on her ship! She could've used someone else's tools, of course, or rounded up a set from storage... but she liked her tools. That wasn't just because of a sentimental notion on her part; her tools fit her hands perfectly, and were all precisely calibrated to her exacting specifications. Besides, what's the point of borrowing others when your own are just a short walk away?

On her way out towards the hangar bay, Shay passed by an Initiate training session in the open courtyard on her left. Master Marin stopped for a few moments to watch the proceedings, a nostalgic sort of smile forming on her lips as she did so. In some ways, it seems like just yesterday that I was out there myself. In other ways, it feels like eons ago now. Anyone who knew her as she was today would have considerable trouble recognizing her as a child. Young Shae'andri'lar Marin had been a solemn and somewhat angry youngling. She'd kept to herself for her most part, and rarely spoke up in public except to defend herself from the tauntings of her peers and answer questions from her elders.

Dismissing the short trip down memory lane from her mind, the Jedi Master returned to her previous course and heading. Dwelling too much on the past was unproductive. Who she was now was more important than who she had been. She applied this philosophical point of view not only to herself but to everyone else around her. Like other proponents of the Living Force, she did her best to live in the present. History was to be used as a reference guide, not an instruction manual for future behavior. The future was important to keep in mind, but you couldn't live your life in constant fear of doing anything because of what unforeseen effects your actions might have down the road.

The whirring of servos alerted her to the line of cargo droids approaching behind her, and without ever looking up from her writing Shay moved to one side of the hall before the first of the bulky metal figures could run into her. "Excuse me, Master Marin," the Jedi tender to the droids called from behind her, giving her a rather belated warning as he rushed up to stand at her side. "We didn't mean to get in your way!" That was another thing she was having a hard time getting used to--everyone being so absolutely careful around her, polite and courteous almost to the point of absurdity. Those she normally worked with in the greater galaxy weren't inclined to such things, to say the least.

Shay dismissed the worry on the Zabrak's face with a short wave of her free hand. "You didn't, Knight... Elesan, isn't it?" The younger man beamed in both relief at escaping a scolding and pride in being recognized, giving her an eager nod in affirmation. "It seems we're heading in the same direction," the older human commented, fighting down her urge to chuckle in amusement at her subordinate's reactions. "I'll walk with you." Fully expecting the Knight to comply, Shay continued walking down the hallway towards the hangar bay entrance looming open at the far end. The cargo droids played forward escort to the pair of Jedi, their metal limbs clacking along the smooth tile floors.

Knight Elesan was a bit shorter than Master Marin, and he had to hasten his own pace to keep up with her. "Thank you, Master. We're on our way to unload a freighter that just landed. I guess I forgot to tell the rustbuckets to watch where they were going." The joke was tentatively offered, since Elesan didn't know much of anything about the blonde woman save that she was the newest member of the Council. The Knight worried she might share the same lack of sense of humor as Master Stone did, for example.

His fears were soon put to rest, however, when a smile slashed across Shay's angular features. "They do tend to have trouble remembering how to travel in anything other than perfectly straight lines!" The Zabrak gave a startled sort of laugh at the Jedi Master's easy response. "I recall that from back when I was pulling hangar duty myself. I swear, they'd run into walls and keep trying to go forward if I didn't ride herd on them constantly! Those were older models, of course," Shay remarked in a dry fashion, highlighting the difference between their ages. "I'm sure these have to be better..." The blonde woman's words trailed off as the pair of Jedi entered the hangar bay proper and both set their sights on the YT-1930 freighter the droids were headed towards. "...programmed."

For the love of the Force... why? Why does it have to be that ship? Why does it have to be him? For her eyes had clearly picked out the form of the dark haired man standing besides the vessel in question. Shay might have been able to convince herself that her mind was playing tricks on her, that the freighter only resembled the Centurion's Blade. However, she could never mistake Mac Cheydin for being anyone else. She'd recognize him even if years had passed between their last meeting instead of weeks.

Shay didn't realize she'd halted dead in her tracks until Elesan's concerned inquiries penetrated her startled state. "Master, are you alright? You look like you've seen a Force ghost or something..." Recognizing how much she'd allowed her emotional controls to slip at the sudden shock to her system, Master Marin immediately locked down on her mind, schooling the surface of her thoughts as well as her face to eliminate any sign of her feelings from view. She didn't want the Zabrak picking up on just what sort of reaction she was having to the sight of the scruffy looking smuggler, nor did she want said smuggler to see how much his presence affected her for long. Shay had already made too many mistakes as far as he was concerned.

"I'm fine. C'mon, you've got work to do." And so do I, Shay thought to herself ruefully as she and the Knight began walking forward again. Her cover was irreparably shattered now; the blue and white robes Shay was wearing would tell Mac she wasn't here by pure happenstance, possibly on a cargo run like he was. The lightsabers hanging from her belt would only confirm his conclusions. No, there was no getting around the truth, and she hadn't been able to bring herself to lie to him for some time now anyways. This confrontation would likely not be pleasant, but it was unavoidable. Shay was many things and had to play many parts, but when it came right down to it she wasn't a coward.

[Mac Cheydin]

As Mac waited, he walked around the Centurion, frowning at all the scorches from battle she had endured, whole parts of her that looked older than some due to the rest being replaced as she needed to be repaired. The old harried ship looked like a patchwork quilt, not as impressive as she’d been when he’d first gotten her. She’d been through rough times, gone months without needed repairs, enduring working as almost a derelict hunk of junk as her captain tried to scrounge up the credits to keep on going. He’d managed, if barely, to keep her functioning for long enough to get the proper repairs done. He took special care to handle her woes as quickly as he could, but sometimes it just couldn’t be done.

Resting a hand on her cold side, he studied some older repairs, eyeing how they were holding up. Giving the cold metal a gentle pat, he continued doing his slow circle around the ship, listening to his minds lament as he eyed all the kinks and bulks in the ships formerly perfect appearance. She’d been a proud ship when he’d first purchased her, brand new, right out of the shop. She did have the usual kinks all newly built ships had, but he’d worked her out of them in time, now she was still as proud, she just didn’t look like it most of the time. When he could afford it, he’d get her hulk repaired properly, some parts replaced, she deserved it, for keeping him alive as long as she had.

He noticed one of the top hatches was slightly open, some wiring sticking out and sparking slightly. Another problem that cropped up, most likely old parts that needed some fixing or replacing, common enough, he wasn’t worried about it too much, nothing there was connected to the vital parts of the Centurion.. He scratched his head, wondering if he could attend to that now, maybe when the droids had arrived to unload his cargo. Settling for his decision, he finished his circle and headed up the ramp at a light jog, heading for the storage lockers and reaching into one of them to pull out his tool belt. Slinging it around his waist, he fastened it properly and returned to his spot by the ramp.

Glancing around the hangar, he wondered where the droids where at, but his wondering ceased as he saw them enter the hangar from a distant entrance. They steadily marched towards his ship, and he noticed two robed figures walking behind them. One wore the usual brown and light brown that most Jedi wore, and the other had a bit more variation, blue robes. He liked the blue ones better, but he wasn’t here to judge the fashion of Jedi.

As the droids arrived, he gruffly directed them to where the cargo was, finding it irrelevant if they took his advice or not. He yelled “Don’t damage anything!” after them as they marched up the ramp, scowling slightly at the idea of any of those bulky things messing up his ship in any way at all. He looked over at the approaching couple, his eyes sliding at the blue robed Jedi, the colour attracting his attention better than the drab brown ones of the other was doing. By the way the drably dressed one was acting; the blue robed Jedi seemed to be of some kind of importance.

One would think Mac would show shock or surprise at recognising the Jedi, but his only outward reaction to recognising ‘Brin’ was a slight narrowing of the eyes, and his stance turning from relaxed nonchalance into something akin to a coiled spring. But his movements didn’t convey any brash action on his part, as his brain filed this information, he realised it explained quite a lot. The selfless nature of ‘Brin’, how she’d stuck out her neck for him in order to repay a ‘favour’. He let out a snort as the thoughts rushed past like a torrent, barely focusing enough for him to interpret their meaning.

Of course she had to be a Jedi. He glanced behind him at the Centurion and sneered, as if having an inner conversation with the ship. When he turned back to the two Jedi, the sneer was gone and replaced by impatience, the perfect emotion for a captain that wanted to get a job over and done with.

“Hello, Master Jedi,” he called, giving a slight bow, both of which would look normal to anyone who hadn’t spent some time with him, but to ‘Brin’, they most likely appeared a bit mocking.

[Shay Marin]

Shay knew the instant Mac had recognized her, though he hid his response to her presence well. Interpreting the subtle hints of emotion the confusing man let slip through his instinctual guard had become easier to Shay over time. At the moment, she wasn't going to exactly be congratulating herself for that fact. Her being able to read him better than most was merely another sign of how badly she'd made a mess of things. Now everything she'd done wrong was culminating into one unexpected meeting and the revelations it produced. Force give me strength.

"Hello, Master Jedi."

Knight Elesan saw nothing amiss with the greeting and returned the bow in kind. However, Shay knew full well how Mac actually meant his courtesies. A faint smile tugged the corners of her mouth upwards despite the gravity of the situation. If he thinks I'm going to act any differently towards his mockery just because it's subtle now instead of blatant, he's got another thing coming. After a moment's pause, Shay bowed as well, not a fraction more or less deeply than Mac had. "Good day to you, Captain Cheydin," she addressed the Corellian in a pleasant fashion, appearing to possess the very essence of calm.

The Zabrak's eyes jerked to the Jedi Master in mild surprise; he hadn't expected her to already be familiar with the freighter's pilot. Shay noted the reaction even though her eyes were fixed on Mac, the younger man's emotional state easy enough for her to read due to his lesser grasp of the proper controls. Ultimately she ignored the startled look, as well as his growing sense of curiosity about the situation. Likely he'd later attribute it to the alleged ability of a Council member to know everything about everyone. That particular fiction was something Gandon himself had done a great deal to promote in the past.

"Knight Elesan, please ensure our droids do no harm to the captain's vessel while they work." It was a clear dismissal, if a politely phrased one, and the young man hastened to comply with a muttered "Of course, Master." His booted tread soon faded away as he ascended the landing ramp into the Centurion's Blade, leaving Shay and Mac relatively alone for the moment. There was the usual bustle of people and machines moving in and out of the hangar, but it was all background noise and motion, nothing Shay had to pay attention to at the moment. A good thing, that, because she found herself far too occupied at the moment to have done so.

Shay was good at small talk, but she didn't prefer it. When left to her own devices, she was honest and relatively straightforward. Therefore, she made no attempt to try to add extraneous words to the air around them in the hope of creating some kind of emotional buffer between them. It would have been a futile effort anyways, and she well knew it. Besides, Mac had no appreciation for such things. He deserved nothing but the truth from her now. Tucking the datapad she'd been working on away into a hidden pocket of her robes, she clasped her hands before her for a lack of anything better to do with them. "I knew you would find out one day," she began, her voice soft but steady. "I didn't think it would be like this."

[Mac Cheydin]

Mac eyed Shay’s reaction to his gentle mockery, a smile of his own tugging at the edges of his mouth. Perfect control over her emotions, or so it appeared. ‘It’s not odd I failed to get a rise out of her on Taanab, she’s a kriffing Jedi. Any normal person would have lashed back.’ Yes, her identity revealed was explaining much to him now, and he didn’t find it at all odd, oddly enough. It seemed she’d been more honest with him than he’d at first believed, he guessed the lies fed to Sheri and Davies were more numerous than the ones he’d been given. That should have elicited some sort of pride or swell in ego from him, but instead he just felt slightly disappointed, he couldn’t explain why exactly. It was an odd emotion for him.

"Good day to you, Captain Cheydin,"

He noted the Zabrak's reaction with a quirked eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, not that he had anything to say in the first place. He wasn’t one for small talk; it hardly ever was effective for him, and it wasn’t effective at all, a waste of air and words in his opinion. He had a feeling that, like most other conversations with ‘Brin’, the oncoming talk would go from simple exchanging of words to an argument, a one sided one at that, as arguing with a Jedi hardly was a lucrative business, but an argument no less.

As ‘Brin’ – he was really getting sick of calling her that – dismissed the other Jedi in a very eloquent version of ‘bugger off’, he turned to call after the Jedi, knowing that it could potentially turn dangerous for the young man if he did any wrong moves.

“Don’t open any doors! There are a couple pets that won’t be happy to see you!” His warning voiced, he turned back to ‘Brin’, watching as she tucked the datapad she’d been holding away and turning back to him.

"I didn't think it would be like this."

Letting out a dry chuckle, he gave her a sceptic look, one eyebrow quirked.

“It rarely turns out how we expect it to, you should know that by now,” he said, running a hand along his stubble. He really wished he’d found the time to shave this morning, he probably looked a right mess. While he wasn’t vain at all, he didn’t like to look overly scruffy around people who looked so very much better groomed than him. The company probably also had an effect on his feelings on the matter.

“So, you got a name, Master Jedi, or do you want to be called Brin, for old times sake?”

[Shay Marin]

The hint of a smile she'd gotten out of Mac was a good sign. It appeared he was willing to put off the seemingly inevitable argument between them for a while. Shay appreciated that, as she much preferred discussing things in a rational manner. They'd both be able to ford their way through this potentially very awkward encounter a whole lot better if they each kept their heads about matters.

Shay wasn't certain precisely why they always ended up fighting; it was never her intention, but that's how their conversations tended to play out whenever they stayed around eachother for very long. A lot of it probably had to do with the fact that the Corellian often seemed to find every other thing that came out of her mouth annoying or offensive in some way. Truly, Shay had never had so much trouble winning someone over to her 'side', so to speak. Not that she should want to win him over more than had been necessary to do her job... there were a lot of things she shouldn't want when it came to him.

"Don’t open any doors! There are a couple pets that won’t be happy to see you!"

Her own smile widened at the reference to the two vornskrs. Even though she'd had a hard time admitting to herself that she'd missed Mac in the slightest, she'd easily come to accept the fact that she'd missed his pets. The time she had spent cuddling and playing with Sam had been the brightest spot of the whole Dolomar mission, and the main reason she'd been able to get any sleep at all on the bunk in her cabin before the Centurion had arrived at the rendezvous point. I wonder how much bigger he's gotten since I last saw him. He's probably not really a puppy anymore, though I may always think of him that way first and foremost.

"It rarely turns out how we expect it to, you should know that by now."

"You'd think so," she agreed in a wry tone, that streak of self-depreciation in her personality coming out to play again as her smile turned lopsided. "Especially when it comes to you. Looks like I forgot about that for a second there somehow." Her shoulders moved beneath the dark blue of her tunic in a gentle shrug. "Nobody's perfect." Not even someone who's supposed to be, like a Jedi Master, Shay critiqued herself in the privacy of her own thoughts. Still, she gave herself a little credit: even the Force hadn't provided her any advance warning on this one. Yet more evidence that the Force possesses a sense of humor.

"So, you got a name, Master Jedi, or do you want to be called Brin, for old times sake?"

Laughter bubbled up in her chest, and since there was no reason for her to keep her mirth caged in this time around she let the warm chuckle escape. For old times' sake indeed! Despite the often snarky edge to it, Shay had always found herself appreciating the man's sense of humor. After all, her own conception of what was funny wasn't exactly 'normal' either. "Oh please stop calling me that! It's bad enough to hear 'Master Jedi' coming from the Initiates; I don't know if I can stand it coming from you." She shook her head at him slightly, her previous shock and worry at the situation having transmuted themselves into a far more comfortable amusement. To any outside observers who were actually aware of the full circumstances, this whole mess would likely prove quite hysterical. Fortunately, there were no such witnesses about.

Composing herself back to just smirking at him instead of snickering, she considered Mac in silence for a moment. "Shay." Honestly, it had been so long since she'd had to give her real name to anyone, it almost felt unfamiliar on her tongue. "Well, that's what I go by primarily; my full first name is long, awkward, and pretentious, so I don't use it. Hence my preference for short aliases. Or Master Marin, if you're feeling more formal about things." The tone of her voice made it clear she knew full well that 'formal' wasn't very high on his list of character traits, if it even managed to make the list at all.

[Mac Cheydin]

"Nobody's perfect."

“Truer words have never been spoken,” he said with a short bark of a laugh, running a hand through his hair as if unconsciously trying to flatten it some. He did find one fault with her words, however, he’d always heard that Jedi were perfect in every way, the Force being their ally or something. Maybe those tales were merely indications that outwardly Jedi seemed perfect to those who held no knowledge about the Jedi apart from the normal children’s tales you heard. But he felt it best not to bother ‘Brin’ with that, judging by the way the Zabrak had acted around her, she seemed quite important among the Jedi.

”I don't know if I can stand it coming from you."

Her bubbly laughter made a lopsided grin settle on his face, strangely happy that she felt amused by their current situation. He found he enjoyed the sound of her laughter, admittedly he hadn’t heard much of it apart from a few chuckles here and there. Their past meetings hadn’t exactly been riddled with humour; he was actually quite amazed that they seemed to converse as easily as they did. One would think they’d be hissing at each other like spukami, rather than being able to hold a proper conversation. Well, they barely could even now.

“Careful, I might start calling you that just for spite.” With his words came an accompanying smirk. Knowing him, he’d probably find the title to cumbersome to make a habit of it, he never was one for titles such as that, but they did have the potential of being fun for a few occasional uses. Her admitting that she wouldn’t be able to stand it coming from him struck him as something humorous, but he felt inclined to forego the chances of being able to mock her merely because she’d admitted that she wouldn’t like it much.

”Or Master Marin, if you're feeling more formal about things."

Her name gave him a start; he gave her a frown as well as a quirked eyebrow. He’d heard the Marin name often throughout his service in the Confederation military, while he didn’t think he’d ever met one of them. He’d served in the army, while the Marins had been in the navy. Navy and army personnel rarely socialised, mostly only by accident or when they had similar objectives.

“You wouldn’t be from the Dolomarian Marins, would you?” His query was voiced casually, he tried to keep it nonchalant, as no doubt if she was of that Marin family, she’d gone and gotten herself in a dilemma as far as choice of allegiance went. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out the Jedi were at least trying to become aligned with the Alliance.

[Shay Marin]

"Truer words have never been spoken."

Shay's eyes followed the path Mac's hand took through his hair curiously. She was starting to get the impression that the Corellian's relative dishevelment was actually bothering him. This was an interesting development from her perspective, because she knew he wasn't a vain man. It certainly hadn't been her intention to make him uncomfortable in any fashion by showing up all clean and polished, so to speak. She had the momentary impulse to tell him not to worry about it, that she didn't mind, but she rejected the idea as soon as it came. For one thing, her saying such a thing would likely only make him more uncomfortable about the circumstances. For another thing, it would be dangerous for her to admit how much she didn't mind seeing him like this.

"Careful, I might start calling you that just for spite."

"I thought that's what you were already doing," she teased him back, recalling his earlier gentle mockery of her. She didn't seem all that worried about his 'threat', and in truth she wasn't. It wasn't that him calling her 'Master Jedi' would upset her so horribly much. Rather, Shay simply couldn't take the title seriously coming from him. She thought herself likely to die of either hysterics or embarrassment if she had to put up with him addressing her that way for long. Force, she had a hard enough time as it was not twitching when the younger Jedi here at the temple called her that! Being addressed in such a formal matter was something she hadn't had much experience with up to this point, along with being an authority figure and being looked to for advice. I'm so getting back at Gandon for coming up with this idea. Crazy old man... thinking I'd be any good at this job...

Much of Shay's mirth died a sudden death when she caught Mac's recognition of her last name. The fact Mac's smile vanished at the sound of it didn't bode well for the nature of that recognition. Once it was gone, she found she missed it sorely. He always seemed so much more approachable when he was smiling. Frack it all. Maybe I should've legally changed it at some point in the past. But then I would've been admitting to everyone how ashamed I was, and a Jedi Master isn't supposed to even have such feelings, much less express them.

"You wouldn’t be from the Dolomarian Marins, would you?"

While she'd been prepared for the upcoming blow, she found it still hurt, a swift knifeblade stabbing into her gut and twisting cruelly. Thanks to her years of discipline, she was able to keep the inevitable flinch from showing anywhere but in her eyes. Even after thirty-five years, the pain remained all too raw for her to be able to cover up or repress completely. "Yes." So many emotions were tied up in that simple one-word admission. You failed to anticipate this, and you should have. You knew he served in the Confederate military. You remember your parents in their uniforms. But you were in such a haste to be open and frank with him at last, you forgot about the curse of your heritage.

Hating the fact that he could likely see how she was hurting, her eyes fell closed briefly while she drew in a deep, cleansing breath. There is no emotion; there is peace. As much as Shay had dedicated her life to the ideals of the Order, right now the Code felt like just so many empty words, without relevance. "My parents gave me up to the Order when I was four. I've had no contact with them since then." Opening her eyes again, she met his own gaze steadily once more. "I didn't want any." She wasn't sure why she was trying to explain her circumstances to him. Perhaps it simply was because of the fact she was Dolomarian, and he was Corellian. Perhaps she instead specifically wanted him to understand her better. Shay couldn't say right now, there was too much going on inside her head.

[Mac Cheydin]

Mac watched with no small degree of hidden astonishment at what he saw happen to the Jedi before him. He would have likened it to someone suffering from the shock of getting shock, but she didn’t give away what she was feeling outwardly. Except her eyes, he could see everything in her eyes. What he saw was painful even to himself, he wouldn’t have thought he’d feel that way, but he did. What in the galaxy had the power to make a Jedi react that way? It made him very uncomfortable in the situation, and he muffled the sudden urge to bolt.

"Yes."

Such a small word, such a small word that managed to elicit the feeling that he’d just slapped her in the face. He wanted to shrink away, beat a hasty retreat with the excuse that he had to fix something on the Centurion, anything but face Shay at that moment. Sure, her sudden emotions weren’t connected to him at all as far as her Dolomarian heritage went, but he’d been the one to bring it up. Even if she reacted like that each time someone brought it up, he was still the one holding the smoking blaster this time.

”I've had no contact with them since then."

He stood still, listening to her words and matching it up to what he’d heard about the Jedi. Of course he still wanted to get out of the whole situation as quickly as he could, but the more sane part of him clearly told him that the wisest move would be to stay put and handle it as it came. Running from a blasterfight rarely meant you avoided trouble; the same could count for any conversation like this.

Instinctively, he straightened his pose, none of the arrogant smuggler business he usually found himself indulging in. With a lack of places to put his hands, he let them fall limply to his side, trying his best to not look too stiff or strained. He kept his eyes trained on her, gauging her reactions and motions, as he kept an inner monologue as to what his next choice of action should be. Running off was not an option, saying something was one, but he wasn’t in the business of comforting Jedi suffering from identity crisis’s. What words could he say that would help?

"I didn't want any."

“Isn’t that normal for a Jedi though?” He said, rather weakly. A few moments passed, and he broke the eye connection, casting a nervous glance to the side. “But all this Jedi fuss is all overwhelming for my little brain, boring conversation, anyway. Why don’t you give me a tour of your home? I’ve never been in a Jedi Temple before.” He let out a slightly nervous chuckle, stepping towards her and casually sidling up next to her, turning to face the Centurion along with her. An arm came up and draped itself across her shoulders, a casual motion and Mac didn’t convey any uncomfortable feelings by being so chummy with a Jedi.

“I can leave the ship with the droids and your lackey, uh, she’ll manage.”

[Shay Marin]

If anything in the known galaxy could have made Shay feel worse, it was Mac's guilt. She hadn't realized what salt that would cast into her recently reopened wound until she sensed the emotion coming from him. Now she wished she had fought harder to keep him from knowing how she felt about her heritage. It would have been easier if she'd lied, or avoided the question somehow... but being a Jedi was never about doing the easy thing. Besides, she'd be damned to the seven Corellian hells before she lied to him again, no matter how much the truth hurt to admit.

It wasn't fair that he felt guilty. The circumstances of her birth weren't his fault. The fact that being Dolomarian still bothered her after over three decades of Jedi training wasn't his fault. His question had been a fair one, and she didn't blame him for asking it. He couldn't have known the effect it would have. Shay had managed to keep her antipathy towards her true homeworld hidden under wraps from everyone while she'd been out in the field. Here on Ossus, though, she'd quickly gotten used to being honest and open again, and she'd dropped her guard. Now they were both paying the price.

"Isn’t that normal for a Jedi though?"

Unable to find any appropriate words at the moment, Shay gave him a small, helpless shrug in their stead. To a certain extent, he was correct: most Jedi never sought out contact with their families, even after they became old enough and wise enough to make their own decisions on the subject. Every Jedi knew where they had come from, but few returned to the place where they had come from save on official missions from the Order. Still, it wasn't the same for Shay; most Jedi weren't haunted by their heritage like she was. There had never been many Dolomarian Jedi, and she was the last hopeful to have been taken from Dolomar before the war started. No one had been selected since then; while the Order had officially been neutral, they hadn't approved of what Dolomar had done, so Jedi didn't travel there on search anymore.

"But all this Jedi fuss is all overwhelming for my little brain, boring conversation, anyway. Why don’t you give me a tour of your home? I’ve never been in a Jedi Temple before."

Mac's words were surprising, to say the least. It wasn't the subject matter specifically that shocked her, though that was also unexpected. Shay hadn't thought he'd be all that interested in a tour, to be fair. No... what was most surprising was that he was giving her an out on the subject, while at the same time he wasn't taking the opportunity to escape the conversation. His discomfort had been apparent to her, and frankly she wouldn't have blamed him for not wanting to deal with her personal problems. He had enough difficulties of his own without trying to shoulder her burdens, even if he'd been the sort of person who did that sort of thing, which he generally wasn't.

What came next might have had her keeling over in astonishment if she hadn't already been so focused on controlling her emotions. The last time he'd sidled up to her side had been all the way back on Tatooine, in a very different situation from the current one, to say the least. The response his actions provoked was also quite different, once Shay had gotten over her initial confusion. It was unexpectedly comforting, to feel the warmth and weight of his strong arm resting across her shoulders. Somehow it was also comforting to be treated akin to any other 'normal' person, instead of as a Jedi. She'd had more than enough of being handled as some sort of higher being in the weeks she'd stayed on Ossus since her elevation to the Council.

As soon as he made his move, the Jedi Master instinctively activated her psychic screen to keep curious eyes from catching on to what was happening. It wouldn't have worked on one of her fellow Masters--especially Gandon, since he'd taught her the trick in the first place--but they weren't around for her to worry about at the moment. There were going to be enough rumors about Shay conversing with the scruffy-looking smuggler as it was without her fellow Jedi speculating as to the nature of their relationship.

Once they were under as much privacy as she could give them, Shay rewarded Mac for his behavior by slipping her own arm around his lower back, returning the friendly gesture in kind. "Thank you," Shay murmured in a hushed voice, letting her own gaze rest on the Centurion as his did. He might not have expected her to react in this way, or to appreciate what he had done, but it felt right to her. His moments of kindness were rare and precious things, something he didn't go handing out to just everyone. It seemed only right to let him know she recognized what he was doing for her.

"I can leave the ship with the droids and your lackey, uh, she’ll manage."

His words managed to coax a small smile back onto her face. "He's not my lackey," Shay responded in mild protest. "Though he'll likely be extra careful because of me. He feels bad enough that the droids he was minding came close to running me down in the hall." With no shortage of reluctance she began to slip her way gently out from under his arm. She didn't want the brief interval of camraderie to end, but it wasn't as though they could go walking like that through the Temple grounds. Well, technically they could, but it would prove problematic. "I'll happily give you a tour if you want. Don't mind the stares; Jedi tend to be curious on the whole."

[Mac Cheydin]

Mac was pleasantly surprised when he felt her arm slide along his lower back, sparking a smile on his face. At least she seemed to be winding down from before; maybe his efforts of trying to take her mind off her heritage had worked, although he could never know with a Jedi. They seemed unnervingly able to keep everything under wraps, but he’d seen Shay vulnerable. Now, however, he wasn’t sure. The new revelation had kicked his brain in the rear and messed up quite a lot of thoughts he’d had on the woman. It seemed best to forget the ‘Brin’ side of her and get to know Shay.

"Thank you,"

Raising an eyebrow, he glanced down at the woman, his smile turning into a grin as he saw what was behind the words. At least he hadn’t lost his touch entirely, he still was capable of acting like his old self in some moments. They were rare and rarely spaced close together, but when they did surface and he noticed them, he was reassured that Michael hadn’t been replaced by Mac entirely. Silly and sentimental perhaps, but he liked recognising his old self.

”He feels bad enough that the droids he was minding came close to running me down in the hall."

He laughed at that, finding the image that brought to mind quite amusing. It had seemed that the man she’d been with had been overly eager to please, at first he’d attributed it to a typical Jedi behaviour, but now it seemed the kid was just trying to ‘redeem’ himself for not paying attention.

Noticing Shay withdrawing from their half hug, he willingly let her go and stepped away. The loss of her warmth was slightly saddening, but this was her home turf and he’d heard the tales about the Jedi, frowning on personal ties and such, most likely a friendship with a smuggler would go under that category, unless the stories had been exaggerating. Wouldn’t want to get Shay in trouble with her superiors, which would turn an interesting day into something he’d wished he’d never gotten out of his bunk for.

”Don't mind the stares; Jedi tend to be curious on the whole."

“Right.” Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested the tour, but it was too late now. He wondered if he should put his tools away, but dismissed the idea as he’d probably be returning to the Centurion shortly, and then he’d have to attend to repairs.

“Where to first then?”

[Shay Marin]

Shay found herself missing the half hug after they'd both disengaged themselves from eachother. A half smile formed on her lips as she turned her gaze back to Mac in silent apology for her pulling away. It couldn't be helped, though the surety of that knowledge did little to satisfy her at the moment. Real human contact was a relative rarity in her world, and lately it was something she had found herself prizing more than ever. She had enjoyed the partial embrace, and there was no guilt in her regarding that fact. From what she had been able to pick up from him, Mac shared her opinion on the matter as far as the first part went.

"You should laugh like that more often," she offered on impulse. Her words were surprisingly serious and sincere for such a relatively frivolous sort of comment. "It's nice to hear it." While Shay occasionally threw away meaningless comments when she was playacting on a job, empty flattery wasn't her style when she was being herself. Her words were nothing more than her honest opinion. What was strange to her about it was the fact she'd felt it necessary to give such a compliment without clear reason. Perhaps she was instinctively trying to seek some way to repay him for what he had done. Or perhaps his tendency to do things on spur of the moment was simply rubbing off on her.

"Right."

Catching the 'feel' of his having second thoughts regarding his own suggestion, Shay's partial smile strengthened into a full one. "I'll make it short," she assured him, amusement once again lightening the amber of her eyes. Truth be told, a tour wasn't something she would've thought to offer him, as she wasn't sure how interesting non-Jedi would really find her home to be. Not to mention the fact that dragging him around in public while they talked wasn't exactly her first choice of how to go about things. Then again, public discussions were a lot safer than private ones, at least as far as avoiding rumors went. For a supposedly enlightened people, Jedi were very efficient at spreading gossip.

"Where to first then?"

Half-turning her body away from him, Master Marin gestured back the way she had come in. "The first set of training areas is back that way, past the storage area those rustbuckets came from. It's as good a direction as any to start in. The kids should still be practicing out there." After sharing her intended course with him, Shay started off in the indicated direction. Even as he fell into step besides her, the Jedi found herself contemplating just how unusual--even surreal--this whole encounter was turning out to be. Definitely not what I expected at all. Force, we haven't even argued yet... this might be a new record.

The interior hallways of the Jedi temple tended towards vaulted ceilings and broad stone archways. The brilliant light of a clear Ossus day filtered down through numerous skylights and slanted in from portals to the outside. On the way, the Jedi Master dealt with yet another round of passers-by paying their respects to the newest Council member. Shay returned each greeting as it was given, shooting Mac decidedly rueful looks once the eyes of others were off them for so much as a second. While her fellow Jedi wouldn't be able to tell it from the carefully maintained calm state of her aura, the Corellian would understand her subtleties of expression enough by now to know she was not all that comfortable with the attention she was getting. "I swear, I am never going to get used to this," she muttered in a confidential tone for Mac's ears alone. "I'd be worried about myself if I did."

Mac's presence at her side--while drawing considerable attention in its own right--had the rather positive effect of keeping anyone from actually attempting to speak to her at length, since she appeared to already be 'busy' with something. For this, she was extremely grateful, as her mind was rather preoccupied right now. As Shay had suspected, the youngling groups were still busy going through their Shii-Cho velocities by the time the mismatched pair made it back to them. "So tell me... just how big has Sam gotten by now? I've missed him."

[Mac Cheydin]

"It's nice to hear it."

Mac threw her an amused and slightly bewildered glance, wondering where her statement had come from. It didn’t seem like anything she was saying to fill dead air, as the words sounded honestly sincere and serious. Everything when it came to Shay was confusing right now, so he opted to merely go with what was going on, so far they hadn’t argued, exchanged barbs, or anything hostile. Quite pleasant, as Mac rarely found himself in a conversation that didn’t involve insulting one another.

"I'll make it short,"

Letting out a slightly nervous chuckle, he tugged at his gloves slightly. In truth he was very curious as how the Jedi Temple was outlined, like most others he’d heard tales when he was young about the Jedi and their magnificent Temples. He’d heard more since growing up, but by default he cast those off as mere woven tales made to impress rather than the truth. But now he would see personally the true myth of the Jedi, when it came to their home at least. The rest of it he wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted confirmation on at all, a lot was rather frightening; especially when it came to the all powerful Force they served.

”The kids should still be practicing out there."

He turned his head in the direction she pointed out, finding the information about the children practicing particularly interesting. He’d heard about the Jedi only taking in children to train, often while the children were in the stage of infancy. At first he’d been a bit against the idea of it, but as he’d thought about it, he’d decided there wasn’t anything particularly bad about it; often the Jedi saved a child from poverty by taking them in. He was sure, however, that if any Jedi came for any his children, he’d give them one hell of a fight.

Focusing on the now as Shay started walking, he easily fell in beside her, keeping his pace at the same speed as hers. He let his gaze wander over the structure of the building, finding it interesting despite the fact that he wasn’t an educated architect. It all came across as quite idyllic, which meant that most of the tales about the Jedi were at least partly true, that they coveted peace and peace of mind more than anything else. He noticed the greetings and wondered if this was usual behaviour for Jedi, or if Shay was a Jedi of particular high standing. He didn’t have any idea as of yet, he’d only just discovered she was a Jedi at all, but the Zabrak Knight had confirmed that she was at least of Master rank.

Noticing her rueful looks directed at him in the short spaces of time no one was bothering her, he merely flashed her a grin, finding her reaction to the attention being lavished on her quite amusing. One would think Jedi were used to that sort of thing, but looking at how she hadn’t even flashed her lightsaber or her Force power even once during the time he’d spent with her, he’d have to assume she was of the subtle kind when it came to Jedi.

"I'd be worried about myself if I did."

“So this is new to you?” He queried, glancing behind them at a few who had greeted her. “Or is this usual around here? They all seem awfully happy to see you.”

As they continued on, he noticed that they did seem to attract a fair amount of attention, however, no one seemed to be acting on their apparent curiosity towards them. Mac was happy about that, because he honestly didn’t know what to do if they tried starting a conversation with Shay or Force forbid talk to his face. Jedi made him nervous, mostly because they tended to have the ability to read his head. He enjoyed his privacy as far as brainwaves went.

”I've missed him."

When she spoke, he tore his eyes away from watching the motions of the children and their practices with the lightsaber, finding himself happy that they were talking about something he could actually say something about rather than listen or come with an occasional nod. He grinned at her mention of missing Sam, odd that a Jedi would miss a small pup she’d only spent a little time with, but he could understand it of course, it just seemed surreal.

“He’s gotten bigger, still not bigger than his mother, but give it a few months and he’ll be there,” he started, trying to illustrate Sam’s size with his hands. “He’s been getting meaner and stronger now too. I usually take him with me when I walk around, just to familiarise him with not being on a ship, but I opted to keep him on the Centurion for this trip. All the Jedi would be too much.” He shrugged.

“The only minus with having Sam around is that he isn’t big enough to look like much of a guard dog. It’s not easy to take a guy seriously when he’s got a puppy waltzing around his feet.” He let out a rueful chuckle and scratched the back of his head. There’d been less people taking him seriously now that he’d taken to having Sam around, but the pup would grow into its role eventually.

[Shay Marin]

"So this is new to you? Or is this usual around here? They all seem awfully happy to see you."

His amusement at her predicament was obvious to read even without empathy. As Shay had long ago resolved to never take herself all that seriously, she didn't find it offensive. His questions weren't offensive either, though she felt the answers might prove a bit... tricky. Not because she wasn't willing to explain herself to him, but because she couldn't accurately predict what his reaction to her full status would be. No point in taking half measures about anything, including the truth. If I'm going to tell him, I might as well tell him everything.

"Both, actually. I don't spend a lot of time on Ossus as a rule. When I do get back here, it's generally for only long enough to make my report, maybe get some practice in, and then I'm off on another assignment." It sounds sad when I put it that way. Strange. Until the point where Shay had known she had to take a break or fall apart, she'd never for a moment regretted what her life was like.

"As for them being happy to see me... a few weeks ago, at least half the people here wouldn't have been able to pick me out of a crowd, even if I hadn't been making a particular effort to hide in it. I was the one who usually got stared at and wondered about. Those who did know who and what I was worried about what kind of news I was bringing back." The next part would likely prove interesting to Mac, to say the least. Here goes nothing. "Then when I got back this last time, my former master had the brilliant idea to suggest that I be appointed to fill an empty spot on the Council, and it's been like this ever since." Obviously Shay was intending to be more than a little sarcastic about the 'brilliant' part.

"I've stayed here as long as I have because I needed some time off from the greater galaxy, but if I endure all this attention much longer I'm going to need to take a break from here," she concluded wryly. "I'm a lot more comfortable with sneaking around than being recognized constantly, to say nothing of actually being looked up to. Shows how much time I've spent undercover, really." Possibly too much time, if you find dealing with Mac so much easier than dealing with most of your fellow Jedi. Sometimes Shay wished her internal voice would just shut up, even though it often happened to be right. Especially when it happened to be right.

"I usually take him with me when I walk around, just to familiarise him with not being on a ship, but I opted to keep him on the Centurion for this trip. All the Jedi would be too much."

Shay nodded in understanding, finding the subject of Mac's pets to be a lot more relaxing than the subject of herself. "Smart. Not to mention a lot of people here would wonder why you had such an animal in the first place." Her own passing suspicions on the matter seemed almost painfully ironic now. He didn't have to hunt for a Jedi at all, one practically fell into his lap--metaphorically speaking. "You think you're being given speculative looks now..."

"It’s not easy to take a guy seriously when he’s got a puppy waltzing around his feet."

Her own grin slanted across her mouth as she took in Mac's rueful demeanor. While she understood what he meant by that, she personally couldn't imagine taking the Corellian lightly. Admittedly, she had met him before the puppy came along... though she doubted that would've made a real difference. His owning such an adorable creature certainly hadn't made her consider him any less capable... or dangerous. "Anyone who doesn't take you seriously is a fool." Another simple, impulsively honest statement, and one she meant just as much as the earlier one.

[Mac Cheydin]

"It's been like this ever since."

Mac didn’t know what the council was, his knowledge of the Jedi hierarchy was very limited, and all he knew was the most talked about ranks. However, the sound of what she was saying and the apparent effect it had on those around her told him the Council must be the governing body of the Jedi, or some kind of thing of authority. That was an interesting thought, and he didn’t have the slightest clue on how to treat it. It appeared he rarely had any proper sort of clue when surrounded by Jedi. Maybe it was better that way. One thing was for sure, he wasn’t entirely sure he liked it here. He didn’t have anything against Jedi in particular, they just made him nervous.

Overall, he opted to not say anything as far as that went; it would be safer for him, anyway.

"Shows how much time I've spent undercover, really."

“It’s odd how things turn it, isn’t it?” He murmured, finding himself with nothing else to say other than a few observations that probably didn’t make much sense in the first place. He had to admit the tour was fully entertaining, but the looks those around them were giving them were unsettling him and taking the fun out of it. He was sure he could’ve had a proper conversation if they’d been relatively private, or not around Force users.

"You think you're being given speculative looks now..."

Suppressing a shudder he shook his head, as if trying to deny even the chance of more attention from the Jedi around him. “I don’t even want to imagine it. It already feels like they’re trying to drill holes in my brain.” Sure, maybe a little exaggeration, but it did feel very uncomfortable. In truth, he was looking forward to getting back to the Centurion.

"Anyone who doesn't take you seriously is a fool."

Mac laughed at her statement. He guessed he should feel flattered, and he did, but he’d been beaten several times by people who didn’t take him seriously. He might consider himself good, but he wasn’t among the top tiers of criminals. As far as criminals went, he was pretty minor, but he did carry a sting. His anonymous status also made him somewhat desirable for some employers.

“The world I spend my time in rarely takes anyone seriously unless they have a very big reputation, which I don’t have.”

The rest of their tour went quickly by, probably because both seemed to want to avoid more attention than they already had. As they returned back to the hangar, Mac quickened his pace to reach the ship in relatively short time; he noted the droids still at work, so he gave a shrug, more to himself than anyone else.

“You probably have business to attend to, don’t you?” His words were quiet, carrying an almost reluctant tone behind them.