"Hey, happy birthday, ship-hater. Hope you get a big ol' fat kiss from Dameron, wrapped with a bow."
This was entirely unexpected, she thought as Skye squinted long and hard at the message Ben had left her. He thought he was so clever, didn’t he? So smooth, so…
“…how the hell did he find out it was my birthday anyway?”
Location -- Coruscant -- Somewhere within the lower levels...
Flecks of blood dotted like a trail behind her as she silently moved through the undercity towards one of the numerous portals that led to the upper levels. If luck was on her side security would be light where she was heading.
Taking a pause within the shadows of broken artificial light beams Skye leaned against an adjacent wall.
Don’t stop walking, Skye. If you do that’s it. Move!
She had to stay focused, keep her mind going to avoid thinking too much on the pain from her blaster wound to her leg. The events leading up to that moment unfurled in her mind. The strapping of her pistol belts and backpack within the hovel that was her home and a mind ready to fight, the pawn and weapon shop and the rodian asshole who ran the place, the ensuing fight and fleeing the scene before other witnesses came around to see what had caused all the ruckus. Her hand gripped the pocket within her vest, feeling the item within; still there. Of course it would be...she finished the job and was trying to get the hell out of there to live and tell about it.
But who would patch her sorry ass up at this point? If security had been reached (and it had, she had no doubt about that), they would be searching for her and anybody else worth a damn involved with the invasion. Going back to her place would leave a damn fine trail and ruin everything that was set up after the job was done. No...she would get to the surface, make it to the depot where her contact and herself agreed to a departure time, and blast on out of there. As originally planned.
It was difficult to appear as if nothing was wrong when approached and slinking around the few passerby in the lower levels, as anybody and their friend could be a criminal or an opportunist looking for their next target to steal, beat, and leave for dead. One had to stay alert, to play a mean, no nonsense sort of face, and she was having a bad time of it apparently as a couple of the local scum of the undercity decided to harangue her for fun.
“Where you goin’, pretty lady?” One of them asked, a human with a unpleasant grin.
Skye could feel her wound flaring all over again, making her footing feel unsure, but she kept walking ahead. Ignoring their words only spurned them on as they began to follow. She looked back, saw them, and her heart began to race all over again.
Not this, damn it! I can try to outrun them? I can--
WHUMP! Skye’s thoughts came to a halt as she careened into somebody who had gotten into her path, sending her to stumble and keel over. Oops?!
