Chapter Text
It was all too much. Too noisy. Too busy. Too bright. She stood there. An island in a sea of moving people that flowed around her, lapping around her shores. She was too short to see where she was, in the crowd of fast flowing people and felt her eyes prick with heat, having to blink away the tears that threatened to fall and ever cease, at her predicament. This was supposed to be an easy assignment. Tech work. Flimsiwork. Easy. That part she knew. That job she loved. What she loved most though, was being able to work alone. Just numbers, data, scribbling on flimsies in her booth. It was the complete opposite of whatever this was, that she was caught up in. The mass of people that had her short self clinging to a tall illumination post as if it was a life-raft. Because getting from her new apartment on , to the office that she needed to report to, for her new job, was proving far more difficult than the few lines of directions she had read on the holonet.
She thought of stopping and asking someone. But most who rushed past her would not catch her eye, as they washed past her in the swift commuter current that morning. And those who did catch her pleading gaze, frowned or tutted. Those few who acknowledged her existence and answered her question, ignored it and her and bid her move out of their way. She had been barged into twice now, since being stuck here, clinging to the post, stuck in the middle of the fast flowing sea of people, not knowing whether to go hither or yon.
Conversation. Shouts. They distracted her. She looked to where they came from. A group of three tall helmets stood to the side of the passing flow. A group of commuters were stood in the island that those three men had made, a safe island and she saw them nod at each other. The commuters were sent on their way and one of the tall, helmeted man, the one in a red helmet, as bright as blood, split from his other two fellows who wore helmets white as bone. The red helmeted man moved through the seas, shoulders back, striding, not being washed away, or stranded, as she was. She watched the seas part for him, as he made his way to the opposite bank, the other side of the wide thoroughfare that she was trapped in the midst of.
She saw his red armour now, from where he stood, on higher ground. That and his blood-red helmet revealed who he was.
Coruscant guard.
She chewed in her bottom lip, debating with herself. He would know where she should head. He was part of this city planet. But then he looked like he was busy. She watched his helmet move, shifting his gaze up and down the busy school of fishes that swam and flowed around her. His head shifted and she found herself staring right into his black visor. Then someone barged into her back and knocked her gaze away. That made her mind up. She trod away from her island, stepping down from the safety of the illumination post that she had been sheltering beneath, for the past too long a time and stepped into the shifting sea of people. She was knocked, pushed, shoved and sworn at. But she kept her eyes fixed on that one point, the red helmet, that watched her. She swam through the river of people, heading towards him.
She kept her gaze fixed on his helmet. Well, on the glaces that she caught of it and him, in-between people flowing past her, blocking her view.
She saw him. Could he see her?
In a gap in the flow, she saw his head turn, saw his black visor turn towards her.
Yes.
She saw him. Could he rescue her from her predicament?
Please!
She was a mere step away from him, a hand's reach from him, but her goal slipped from her, as someone shoved into her back and took away her sight of him and threatened to tip her over, threatening to have her drown in the sea of souls that were all rushing to their work. The tang of resignation and frustration seeped out of her, in the form of burning, blurring tears, at the thought being of being shoved away by the stream, of being late on her first day, of losing her job, losing her apartment, being sent back to the outer rim in disgrace, because she lost sight of him and he of her.
Stinging tears fell from her fear-filled eyes, as she expected to be pushed from her path and be late and be made to look like a fool in front of all.
But none of that happened, because a strong hand gripped her arm.
She gasped.
Strong fingers dug into the soft flesh of her, just above her elbow.
Another gasp fell from her.
The strong grip held her taut in the fast flow that threatened to end her future here, on the city planet.
She gaped over her shoulder, as she was twisted in the current and a third gasp fell from her.
The strong hand held her. His arm pulled at her and hauled her out, he fished her out of the flow. One last tug on her arm, and he landed her next to him, in front of him and out and away from the stream of fast flowing people.
He pulled at her.
She smacked, splat, against hard, cold plastoid armour.
She squeaked.
The hand released her.
Someone shoved at her side.
Two large, strong hands reached up and held her forearms, steadying her, stilling her, causing her eyes to widen and for her to gap up at him.
He released her.
She stepped back and another distressed squeak fell from her, when she was shoved by a by-passer again.
A fourth gasp fell from her, as she was righted once more, with his hands on her waist this time, as her hands once more flew up, to re-plant themselves, palm down on his cold, armoured chest. She looked up, blinked at a black visor, watched his head tilt to the side. Another blink. The placement of his hands on her and her hands on his cold chest, made her face heat.
The strong, warm, safe hands released her and her hands fell away from him. But she was knocked by a passer by again and she juddered, she stepped back, then took a step forwards, to stop gravity from forcing her back into the stream. But she took another step back, from preventing herself from falling against him a second time. Another squeak fell from her, a protest, a cry for help, against the impending doom of her falling back into the stream.
But she did not fall back there, as one of his strong hands caught her elbow and steadied her stumble.
He pulled her further from the edge of the stream this time, before releasing her.
She rubbed her hands on the trousers of her jumpsuit and mumbled a 'thank you' at the ground, watching large, white armoured feet shift and turn, moving away.
He left her by the shore. His duty done. With no thanks, as per usual.
She offered a kick to herself, as she remembered the reason for seeking this man out. She took one, two, three skipped steps, another half dozen, chasing after his wide back and his long strides, that flowed with measured grace, and took him away from her.
"Wait! Please! Sir!"
He halted.
She didn't.
She smacked into his back. An oof fell from her. She shook her head and stepped back, watching, as he turned to face her again. His helmet tilted to the side and the faceless, black visor regarded her in a still silence.
"Sorry…" she offered him an apology for probably scuffing his armour with the buckle of her belt or her bag or her long-gone pride.
She swore that she heard a huff hissss out from the vocoder of his helmet. And again, he regarded her with a lifeless black visor and tilted head.
"Um… Sorry… I just wanted to say thank you, for earlier, for fishing me out of that stream. It was rude of me to not say so then. Sorry… And thank you."
He nodded at her and turned to leave.
"Wait! Sir!"
He turned back to her and did as she bid him do, as she ordered him do and he waited, watching her fidget with her own hands.
She looked up into the same tilted helmet, the same black, faceless visor. "Um… I start a new job today and I'm not from here, I'm from the outer rim and not used to seeing so many people… I'm not used to being around so many people either… I looked up the directions, but I think I'm lost, I know I'm lost and… I need to get to…"
"Where?"
His head remained tilted, his black visor stared at her.
She nibbled at her bottom lip, stopping when she heard a puff of breath hisssssss out from him.
"I'm… I'm not sure how to pronounce the name of the square… Um…" She dug her datapad out of her bag and scrolled through, finding the address. "Here…?" She turned the datapad around, showing him the address. Watching how he leaned down, the black of his visor that hid his eyes, shifted from regarding her, to her datapad. A nod from him had her opening her mouth to speak, but her words were swallowed, when he raised a gloved hand, holding a long forefinger up to her. He turned his gaze from her and tapped something out on the vambrace of his left arm. Then he turned back to her.
"This way."
"Oh, but you're busy, you don't have to, if you could just show me the way…" But he had already shown her his tall, wide back, forcing her to walk, run, skip after his long, level strides once again.
She managed to halt herself in time, so as not to smack into his back, when he halted again.
"You'll need to take this lift down four levels…"
She peered at where he pointed. One of the fast lifts that dotted the city planet and its hundreds of levels. She nodded at his instructions. Trying to tap his instructions into her datapad. A slew of instructions flowed forth from him faster then the stream of people that had almost drowned her. "Yes… Um… I didn't quite catch that last one… Or the one before… Could you repeat them please, Sir…?"
He held his hand out to her.
"Um…?"
He pointed at the datapad that her right forefinger hovered over. His fingers gestured.
"You want this…?"
Another hisssss from his helmet.
"Oh. Yes. Sorry…" The datapad was handed over to him and she watched his black-gloved fingers fly over her the screen. She found herself unable to keep from leaning in, trying to peer over and see what he was typing. His fingers paused and she shifted away. "Sorry…" She stood back, fidgeting with her hands, trying to peek up at his helmet and the black visor that hid his eyes, trying to see if there was any sign of the man beneath the helmet that she could detect. She smiled, as his head shifted. Small, almost imperceptible movements: a nod, a tilt, a shake was seen there, as she watched, while he typed.
"Here!"
She blinked when, in one swift movement, he shifted and handed the datapad back to her, turned so she could read it. She quickly scanned the letters. His instructions were so much better than the ones off the holonet. Or her attempt at taking notes from his voice. These were proper instructions.
His shifting movement, a swish of the long black skirt he wore, a shift of his feet, stance pulled her from reading, pulled her away before she was even halfway through. She raised her gaze up and away from her datapad and typed-out words. The way he was standing halted her from reading any further.
His back was straight, tall, his shoulders were pushed back, his chin was lifted up, his hands were by his sides, fisted, taut, as was all of him. Waiting for her to do something. To say something.
But what though?
She peeped at the black visor, wishing that she could see his face, his eyes. Wanting to analyse both, to see where she had misstepped this time, to see where she could correct her error, to see where she could try and pull the official frost out of his stance.
Maybe…
Maybe I'm looking too hard?
Maybe…
Maybe he is too used to being analyzed like I'm doing right now?
She certainly didn't like it when others did so to her: looking at her like she was some outer rim nerf herder who knew nothing about anything. She had seen such scrutiny often enough, from the other side.
I hate it!
Also, she knew that no-one trusted the officials back home, even the good ones had people spitting on the floor, as they passed.
So maybe that's it? He's watching, waiting for me to decide whether he's human or not? Waiting for me to call him a…?
Her thoughts halted from saying the thing that she had smacked her younger brother upside the head for saying. He was just repeating what he had heard his friends say, but that was no excuse in her books.
'Meat droid.'
She shuddered at that phrase.
He's waiting to see whether I think he's human enough to converse with, to give a consideration to?
She smiled up at him. A genuine one. A true one. He had saved her from drowning, after all. A very human thing to do. So she returned the favour.
"Thank you. These are… very detailed directions. Thank you. Thank you… Sir. For this and for fishing me, earlier. Thank you." Another smile was tacked onto the end of her words there, along with the honorific. Making certain that he knew that she knew that he was not that thing that her father's mother had taught her to hate. Her smile widened, when she saw his stance relax, his legs and feet shifted to widen his stance and he placed both of his hands behind his back. Her smile widened some more, when she saw his head nod.
"Marshal Commander."
She watched how he stood tall once more, puffing his chest out, raising his chin.
"Marshal Commander…?" she asked.
"My title."
"Oh. Sorry, Sir. Marshal Commander."
"Good luck."
"Excuse me?" she blinked up at him.
"Good luck. For today. Your new posting."
"Posting? Oh… The new job! Oh! I need to go! Thank you again. Thank you, Sir. Marshal Commander. Um… Goodbye."
A nod from him. And she turned to enter the arrived elevator. Standing on her tiptoes, peering out and around the others, trying to catch a last view of the first person to help her here, the first person to show her some humanity here, before the lift doors closed. She expected that last view of him to be his fast-receding back. But he was still standing where she left him, where she left him, he was still watching her, as she watched him.
The black visor covering where his eyes should be regarded her.
He nodded.
Her cheeks reddened. She raised her right hand. A small wave, a thanks. She watched him do similar. Then the doors closed and he was gone. She peered down at her datapad, checking the instructions, checking where she had to go next, while the lift descended. The instructions were followed with dutiful care. She smiled, as each turn, each landmark, was detailed, down to the colour of the neon signs and the names of the shops that she passed. Smiling at how he had added in small details, like when to cross to the other side of the street, so as not to walk past entrances to alleyways, or which shops to avoid or go into. And there she was. Stood outside the large, wide square that opened before her and on the other side of which, squatted the offices of the Republic Data Retrieval and Processing Centre.
She had arrived there on time. Earlier than on time. She smiled down at the final words that he had typed, expecting them to be thus: 'Cross the square and you are there'.
But those were not his typed out words. She read them, then read the last bit again, just to make sure.
'Please don't try to walk the wrong way on the moving walkway again. I might not be there to fish you out of the stream next time! Although it was no effort. You're a very little fish! Also, the Happy Tooka that you passed, along the route that I gave you, just along from where I told you to exit the lift, they do very good caf. They're a small business, but open very early and very late. I find that it helps when one has late night flimsiwork. Have a good day, Shiny!'
She stifled a giggle and wondered if the last pointer was something from his own experience with awful flimsi reports that she despised with a passion. Wondering as well at how, the man who had spoken few actual words and had huffed at her oh-so-obvious off-world ways, had spoken so much in those detailed, typed-out instructions that he had tapped out upon her datapad. She read his last sentence again.
'Have a good day, Shiny!'
Just a normal parting greeting. But he didn't have to type that, or anything really. He could have just ended at the last instruction, without the fishing, without the mention of the what she recalled from passing it, was a small cafhouse. A cafhouse that emitted such delicious, tempting aromas, of sweet pastries and caf and chocolate, that had her mouth salivating and wishing that she had possessed the time to stop there and order something, instead of scurrying past this morning.
And then there was the last word. She frowned at that. 'Shiny'. Capitalised.
What did it mean? Was it a name for something? Another word for a fool, another word for a di'kut?
Di'kut - the word that her paternal grandmother had taught her and used in free abundance for so many things, along with a choice others in the language she spoke.
Is it an insult? Or… an endearment?
She shook her head.
Can't be. Must be an insult. Another word for having bantha fodder for brains? One used here in the big shiny city planet and nothing silly little shiny fish from the outer rim would have heard of.
Her datapad was shoved back into her bag and she strode forwards. Walking towards the frowning, stern building that was her new place of work. She entered the large atrium of her new workplace with his well wished making her smile, even though she pondered about the last of his typed out words.
'Have a good day, Shiny!'