binary stars (a.s)

chapter three

For months, Anakin had studied the way Eola Vex moved. How she could turn anything into a weapon, including her own deadly stare. How she kept secrets and how she created them, weaving them intricately on her own spider's web. Even when she had disappeared to the galaxy beyond, gallivanting somewhere and wreaking havoc, he remembered her, and the slow, smoldering look in her eyes like a bomb about to go off whenever something was wickedly, terribly wrong.

Eola Vex had that same look in her eyes now. 

Standing on the opposite side of the rundown ring, the commander began a slow circle around him and Ahsoka. She met his eyes, and that feline smirk tugged at her rouged lips, and while anyone around them wouldn't have noticed something amiss with the beautiful, wicked woman holding the underground's attention, Anakin did.

And he worried.

"Well, well, well," Eola drawled with each step, her voice a low purr. "So the Jedi come to grace us with their presence at last."

Ahsoka paused at his side, the question awaiting a command. Anakin glanced at her from the corner of his eye, giving her an almost imperceptible shake of the head. Not yet.

His padawan's eyes glinted with confusion, but she stood her ground.

"General Anakin Skywalker," Eola continued, luring her attention back to him. He noted how she said his name, loud and clear for anyone around them to hear. An announcement--and a warning. But to who? "We meet again."

Eola came to a tentative stop a few paces in front of him, her eyes meeting his. She looked exactly as he remembered her: thick dark hair, black bodysuit hugging her figure, a half-sheet of charcoal fabric hanging from around her waist. The hilt of her now-extinguished lightsaber rested along the same silver cord. This was not a trap, or not for him and Ahsoka, at least.

So Anakin smirked at Eola, arrogant and casual, as if he wasn't a Jedi knight and she wasn't a prolific Sith apprentice. "This wasn't what I had in mind for a reunion."

Eola chuckled--a familiar, intoxicating sound. "I would imagine." Her gaze lingered on his for a beat longer before she glanced at her pointed red nails, examining them for miniscule imperfections. "But I suppose the jig is up. I take it we're under arrest?"

Internally, Anakin blinked at the woman before him, trying to piece together the puzzle she'd created. The hints were in her eyes, in the way the room itself seemed to be holding its breath. Waiting, they were.

For him.

Ahsoka shifted at his side. "Master--"

"You are," Anakin interrupted. He kept his voice loud and clear, letting it carry throughout the room and across the crowd. "The rest of the Jedi are just moments behind us."

Eola stilled, a calculating smile on her face. Good, she seemed to say.

And the crowd dispersed. Hissing and shouting, running from the stands out into the tunnels surrounding the room. Before long, it was just Anakin, Ahsoka, and Eola standing in the dark and musty room. Once it was clear, the latter heaved a dramatic sigh.

"I thought you'd never get the message," she said, sashaying back the way she'd come. She waved her hand towards Anakin and Ahsoka. "I'm not in the business of thanking others but you get the idea."

Anakin faltered for the slightest of moments before thundering after her, Ahsoka in his wake. "Eola, what are you doing here?"

Eola spun around, her skirt fanning out around her like a web of shadows. "What do you think?" she asked, her voice deceptively light. "Running an underground fight club, apparently."