it’s not until cal is brought back from a rough interrogation that he realizes, he’s not as alone in the chamber of prisons as he’d initially thought he was; there’s someone else in the pen just beside him. his jailers drag him into his own rocky, uncomfortable cell and leave him there, bruised and bleeding, and he has to fight his way up to a sitting position before he can breathe properly. he’s probably got a few damaged ribs, but he’s been worse off before. after waiting until he knows they’re completely alone, he shuffles to the entrance as close as he can get, the force field keeping him inside but not his voice. “hey. are you alive over there?”

and so he focused on her for the moment, putting the contact at the back of his mind. the force was telling him there was something more to this female than what her outer appearance gave off. approaching, kylo did his best to blend in with the surroundings, appear as if he too belonged there. few people knew his face, after all, that would certainly come in hand. “seems to busier than normal today. what brings you in??” he questions, shifting closer towards the bar. 

💕: Does your muse have any crushes?

   information was the key to this entire war. while it was not his preferred method of work, it would suit him for what needed to be done. the resistance needed to be knocked back a bit in order to ensure that the first order would soon rise to the top. this war was going to eventually end. sooner or later, the ridiculous peace that was all a farce between the two sides would falter and disappear, and the fighting would begin once more. kylo planned to be on the winning side whenever this happened. if that meant doing more of the dirty work, so be it. this would hardly be the first or the last time he had done that. 

    getting certain information out of people could be easy if they didn’t resist. individuals who were not fully aware of everything that was happening around them were some of the more easier targets. finding a resistance member with a bit too much to drink had been a simple task, information that was needed simple to gather. waiting until he was able to spot the person he had been targeting was another simple task. he did have a bit of a knack for tracking individuals down. “i thought you and i might be able to have a bit of a conversation. i’m not in the mood to take no for an answer.”

“i’m just saying it’s not unheard of,” takkel bari says into the transmitter, causing jaedah to shoot the device a rancid look, the hologram of the zabrak mechanic merely shrugging in response. “you’d be surprised at how often you find those things in vector plates on the south side.”

jaedah returns his attention to the work before him, a pile of wires and cords and data chips all knotted and manged, the giant tangle still somehow attached to the mainframe of his ship, despite it’s near uselessness. it’ll be too expensive to replace all this, and despite the capable help he’s hired to work and fix the ship, he can’t afford much more without pulling off a heist and attracting too much attention to himself. he glances over at cienna, whittling away at her own task to complete, before sighing at takkel. “if you’re going to be disgusting and inadequate, i shouldn’t have called you in the first place.”

“what else are friends for?”

“we’re not friends. bye.”

the zabrak merely chuckles and salutes him. “may the force be with you, captain.”

“don’t bring the force into this, you slime-rat, that’s the last thing i need,” and he hangs up on him. luckily, he knows takkel well enough that the other will still answer his next call, and probably be just as unhelpful. regardless, he tosses the device onto the table and frowns darkly at the mess before him, muttering mostly to himself but not worried if cienna can hear him, “what bantha back-end feces manure, the force. spare me.”

cal sits on the floor of his cage, staring down at the stone and moss growing along the edges of his confinements, and tries to pretend like he doesn’t know what she’s saying, like he doesn’t understand what it is she’s getting at. he shakes his head, about to argue with her, but he doesn’t. his words dry up inside his throat. he knows what she means. he knows how this looks. “i don’t want to come back,” he tells her, and it’s mostly true. if they’re going to go through with this escape plan, there can’t be anything holding either of them back, no matter what she’s heard about cal. “there’s nothing here for me.”

trilla and kuruk and whoever else knows him here... he doesn’t belong to them. he has to get away. before it’s too late for his soul.

     The more he stalker the streets, the more it felt as though the troops here had become complacent. There was a rooted Resistance presence and nothing was being done about it! What was worse, it didn’t seem like anyone knew where their primary base of operations was. How pathetic is was seeing the lack of countermeasures and attack plans; it was almost insulting. Well, as the old saying goes, if you want something done right, you do it yourself.

     Having departed from the more denser First Order side of the city, General Hux’s attire was steadily losing its intended visage. By Imperial standards, the white button up shirt, black slacks, and over coat wouldn’t have him stand out among a crowd. Here, where the clothing branched into various colours and held no uniformity, he was beginning to look overdressed. If the Resistance was in this sector, they would have gotten word of his intrusion by now...

“Well, I’d like to hear that they’ll have food at this strange event that we’re being roped into attending,” Rey responded with a slight frown, crossing her arms over her chest as she headed towards the Resistance base with Cienna. “I mean really, how can they not expect it to end up in chaos? At least if I eat a good meal beforehand, I’ll be prepared for whatever bantha-fodder the First Order tries to throw at us. Won’t you?”