FLYING SOLO ➳ luke skywalker

TWENTY-SIX! THE DAIMYO

KAZ and Analia had never actually worked a job together, so really, it was not like old times at all. During Analia's days of pirating and butchering, her co-pilot had been Jadu, thirty-something-year-old man from the depths of Couruscant, whom she had not seen during her return to the Den. She guessed he had either moved on or been killed. Kaz and Analia had been what one might call childhood friends. They were raised together, trained together, then kept mostly separate when she was granted the honour of becoming Trix and Kaz was assigned maintenance duty. He had clawed his way up from the sewers since then, clearly, because now he was respected enough to fly as a co-pilot and fill in as acting Daimyo of Mos Espa. 

The years had been kind to Kaz. His shoulders had filled out, his jaw strengthened, and strong arms were visible beneath the fabric of his shirt. As the Revenant rocketed through hyperspace, Kaz kicked his booted feet up onto the control panel and whistled a merry tune.

"So, you've made a respectable pirate of yourself, have you?" Analia prompted teasing conversation.

Kaz's eyes sparkled with amusement. "A little neebray told me that you're Han Solo's fancy woman."

Analia's stomach churned at the implication. The desire for banter dissipated as a wall of defensiveness descended around her.

"He's my friend," she said stiffly.

Complacent expression unwavering, Kaz held his hands up in mock surrender. "My apologies, I didn't mean to offend the lady." He swung his legs down from the control panel and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "A smuggler, though? Really? Seems a little bit beneath the mighty Trix."

"I'm not Trix anymore." 

Kaz's eyes swept Analia's frame, the black and brown wrappings, the helmet stashed at her feet. Feeling his eyes tracing the outline of her body, she shifted in her seat. Kaz pushed a breath of air through his nose, amused.

"No need to get embarrassed," he tittered. 

"Donio gave us one job to do," Analia said, turning in her seat to face him. "Let's try not get distracted, shall we?"

The ghost of a smirk played at Kaz's mouth.

"Yes, Captain."

Analia got to her feet and stretched, bones in her shoulders cracking. She was overjoyed to be released from her confinement after so many weeks, soaring through open space, moving her limbs freely again.

"It's going to take us awhile to get to Tatooine," she told Kaz. "I'm going to catch up on some sleep. Shout if you have any trouble."

Kaz saluted and, in spite of herself, Analia snorted amusedly. He was different yet the same, still puckish but with a newfound air of confidence—or arrogance, really. As a child, he had been small and bashful, keeping to himself around those whom he was not comfortable with. But Analia had always seen the other side of him, the playful rogue, thriving off of mischief and chaos. He didn't have that scar by his mouth when they were children. She pocketed her inquiry about it. Maybe later.

The Revenant's quarters came equipped with a spacious wardrobe, stocked full of clothing tailored specifically for Analia. She rooted through the selection of jackets, trying them on one after the other and admiring herself in the mirror. The cut on her cheek had healed nicely, but it left behind a thin line. A new scar to add to her ever-growing collection.

Clad in a brown leather jacket, Analia rounded in the mirror and started to see Kaz's tall figure behind her, arms folded as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Dank farrik, don't do that," Analia cursed, clutching a hand to her chest. "You scared the life out of me." 

Kaz chuckled. "Sincerest apologies, Captain. I was only looking."