WiP - Promises: Book of Dayja
“Hey, slice-rat.”
“Greetings, asshole.”
Gudry folded his arms across his chest, furrowing his brow as he looked Dayja up and down.
“What?” Dayja hissed, stirring an inordinate amount of sugar into his caf.
“You look like shit,” Gudry said simply. “Like, shit that was left out to dry in the sun, eaten by a confused nerf, and shat out all over again.”
“Poetry,” Dayja muttered, cradling his mug close to his face. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Gurdy.”
Gudry rolled his eyes. “Never gets old for you, does it?”
“Until somebody does something funnier than Inspector Motti shouting ‘Shut up, Gurdy,’ no: it will not get old. But I encourage you to try. Fuck knows I could use a good laugh.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Gudry said, leaning against the table beside Dayja and giving him another look-over. “What do they have you doing? Heard you were making the runs as a spice-addicted hooker or something?”
“Nah... bit passé,” Dayja said.
“It all is, I guess," Gudry said. After a beat, he added, “Surprised Yularen brought me in for this and not the blonde wonder. Finally facing the music, I guess.”
“What are you talking about?” Dayja asked with a bored sigh.
“You’re telling me you haven’t noticed? Kallus has been—“
“Batonn's a delicate job and Kallus isn’t exactly known for his skill in covert-ops,” Dayja interrupted.
A muscle ticked in Gudry’s jaw. “He’s decent enough. My guess? Yularen’s finally noticed just how fucking unhinged he’s been these past couple years. And between the two of you, he’s not even the one with the little problem.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No? He’s been stuck on the same backwater cesspool chasing after the same rag-tag group of insurgents—which include kids, from what I hear—only he’s been so fucking distracted he can’t even handle basic security on Coruscant. And that’s the generous interpretation of events.” He shook his head. “Mark my words—there is something going on in that giant, entitled blonde head.”
“You know, your head could be smaller, too,” Dayja pointed out neatly between sips.
“Last time I saw him, he even—“
“Just lay off, alright?” Dayja said sharply. His tone was quiet but effective if the way Gudry’s eyes flickered in hesitation was any indication.
Gudry recovered quickly, his face steeling. “What the hell is it with you and that prick?” he demanded in a low voice. “You’re smart—you know he doesn’t give two shits about you: I know you do. So why in space do you insist on defending him, again and again and again? You think he would’ve stood up to Savit for you the way you did for him?”
“Any particular reason I’m being graced with this dramatic performance?” Dayja asked flatly. After a moment he added with a hint of a growl, “Again?”
“Your completely irrational attachment to that piece of shit is how I know you’re not really a droid,” Gudry sneered.
