Steal to live, kill to feel

[Byl Laprovik]

(Continued from Extreme Ways)

Byl.

That three-lettered word had been on his mind for a month. In the cold days of living on the streets in a nameless city on a nameless planet, it was the lifeline of identity that he held fast to. Even if it was a lie, he wouldn't abandon it.

James.

His mind hung onto every memory of her voice. It was all he had. A name and a voice.

The Alliance.

Somehow, his fate was intertwined within the Rebellion. It complicated his existence. If he had a death mark from the Empire, who knew more about him than he did? Possibly everyone.

His plan to reach Bespin had been flawed from the start. The ship he landed in was impounded, and without it, there was only one way to reach the tibanna gas giant. He'd stolen what he needed. Stolen food to keep him nourished. Stolen blankets to keep the bitter winter cold from numbing him as he scratched a temporary existence in a back alley. Stolen credits to pay for charter on any decrepit, flea-bitten transport that might light out for the outer rim mining planet.

A month later, and he was one of many dirty faces crammed into a ship. Most here were poor laborers, doing migrant work in the tibanna fields in hopes of providing for families elsewhere. When the ship finally came to dock at Cloud City, he bled into the throng of millions that called the city home.

His first act was to find a comm. The frequency he'd committed to memory a month ago. His lifeline. James.

[James Prent]

"Aw, krasst," James fumbled with her commlink and dropped it while thumbing it on, getting down on her hands and knees to retrieve it from under her bed. "Hello?"

There was static on the other end, but no one spoke. She frowned, pulling herself up using the edge of the mattress, and repeated her greeting. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

[Byl Laprovik]

"I'm here."

He pulled the neck of his tattered wool jacket up as a breeze whipped by. He wondered if she'd memorized his voice the way he'd memorized hers.

"I want to meet you."

[James Prent]

"..Byl?" She got a funny feeling in her belly, and she sat down on the bed. "Oh, okay!"

A trillion questions went through her head, but she kept them bottled up. Where have you been? How are you? "Um, well I'm at home, if you want to come here. Or we can go out. Whatever you want." She grinned, "Its good to hear from ya."

[Byl Laprovik]

He had to be careful now. Could he trust her? What if this was a trap?

"I've got a lot of things in my head and I need to sort them out."

He glanced over his shoulder, then looked at a hologram interactive map of the city.

"How close are you to the southwestern promenade? I need to meet where there are people."

[James Prent]

"Uh, I can get there in about twenty minutes... I think. Twenty or thirty?" It depended on if she could get on the first 'lift or if she had to wait in a line. James was on her hands and knees again, fishing under the bed for her shoes. Byl sounded all spy-like again, which was, lets be frank, hot.

She grasped the heel of one shoe as he replied, "What's closer?"

"Well, I'm closer to the northern promenade. I can get there in about five minutes, if there aren't a bunch of Ugnaughts in the way." James rolled onto her back, looking at the stained ceiling of her cheap apartment.

[Byl Laprovik]

"Five minutes."

He bit his lower lip. There was one problem. He had never seen her, or if he had, he had no recollection.

"What will you be wearing?"

It sounded daft. He wasn't sure what he would tell her, when he inevitably had to let her know that the only thing he knew of her was her name and the sound of her voice. What then?

[James Prent]

What would she be wearing? She looked down at herself and cringed, but she wouldn't have time to change. "I just got off my shift at Cloud 9, I'm wearing a white tank top and black pants."

There was more silence on the other end, and she slipped into her work shoes and scrambled to reapply some deodorant to try to get rid of that bar smell. "See you soon?"

She juggled her keys and wallet, hurrying out the door and closing it behind her.

[Byl Laprovik]

He let the comm die, and stepped away from the terminal. A peripheral tram station was about a hundred meters away. From what he knew, that would carry him up to the North district.

Again, he disappeared into the morass of anonymity.

Five minutes later, he was on the promenade, which had a wide open vista, broad walkways, and rows of shops and kiosks. He found an abandoned section of railing overlooking the lower commercial sector, and waited.

He didn't want to wait long. Even in public, he felt exposed. On the backwater he'd resided on for a month, he'd at least had the false illusion of being in the middle of nowhere. Bespin was small compared to many places, but in other ways, so vastly large.

[James Prent]

Emerging from a turbolift, James wandered for an extra minute or so just walking through the promenade and looking for Byl. Her mind racing (and her heart, because of the running she'd done to get there of course) she scanned the people around her and then finally spied him leaning against the railing, looking down on the next level.

He'd grown a beard. It looked good. James panicked, turned and checked herself in the reflection of a store window, and then walked towards him sedately. "Hey there, stranger." She smiled, feeling shy.

[Byl Laprovik]

He turned at the sound of her voice. That voice he'd played in his head over and over. For a moment, relief washed over him to see that she was real, and he cracked a rare smile.

"James."

He gave a once over.

"Just as you said."

Suddenly concious of his disheveled state, he rubbed the frayed hem of his jacket with a thumb and forefinger.

"Seems my plan for a quick rendezvous ran aground."

[James Prent]

He looked like he'd been living under a park bench. Dark circles under his eyes, frayed and old clothes. Her excitement in seeing him again was swallowed up in concern. James leaned on the railing a bit, smiling. "Its okay. In your line of work I imagine its hard to schedule time off."

She added, "I like the beard. Its a good look."

[Byl Laprovik]

He ran a hand against the scruff he'd accumulated in the past month. He wondered if she was being polite. He felt a bit of a mess.

"Would you like a bit to eat? Afraid I can't pick the tab in my state, but I'd like your company if you're up for it?"

Something was disarming about her. He didn't feel a threat around the corner. He wasn't sure if that was reassuring or concerning. The only thing he knew is that he needed to talk.

[James Prent]

She brightened, "Sure, I know a place." She wanted to take his arm and lead him, but hesitated, and stuck her hands in her pockets instead. "Its just a block or so down this way. East, I guess." James laughed, "I'm a little dumb when it comes to planetary directions. Better with star charts, to be honest."

He walked beside her, and kept looking from side to side in that way that spies did, to make sure no one was flanking them or getting ready to drop down from the ceiling with a vibroblade. She limped only slightly as she led the way down the walkway to a quiet lunch diner. "They have killer burgers here," she said, and he smiled a little bit, as though it was expected of him.

He seemed... distant. Perhaps he was in the middle of some kind of mission, and it was preoccupying his mind. Sliding into a booth, she sat across from him, and scratched an itch on the side of her nose. "So, its been a long time. Since the Dauntless?" James shrugged, "I hardly have a limp now."

He was being so quiet she felt like she was jabbering to fill the empty space between them. Embarrassed, she buried her face in the menu even though she knew what she was going to get.

[Byl Laprovik]

She spoke of things that she expected him to know of, and he knew that he had to deal with his amnesia immediately.

"James, I really don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it."

As famished as he was, he was more eager to dispense with the heart of the issue that had burdened him for the past month.

"Prior to a month ago, I have absolutely no memory. I don't remember anything."

He waited to see what she would say. He hoped this revelation wouldn't sever his only link to answers.

[James Prent]

She could feel her mouth slowly dropping open, so she closed it and was about to say something when the waitdroid in the center of the table activated.

"Greetings, gentles," it said tinnily, as the cylindrical droid rose to stand a few inches tall, its rotund body spinning slowly as it flashed a few holographic advertisements. "How may we serve today? Fluids? Edibles?"

James reached out with one hand and pressed on the top of the droid, sending it back into its nesting place inside the table. It burbled a bit, then was silent. "You can't ... remember anything?"

A hysterical part of her brain was thinking that this was exactly like a holo she'd seen once, and this was her chance to convince him that they were married, or something, but she concentrated and squished that little voice into goo. "Frell. I didn't think things like that really happened. I mean... in your line of work I guess..."

She let her voice trail off, and then she said, "Frell. I bet y' have a lot of questions." There wasn't a moment when she didn't believe him. He wouldn't lie to her about something like that.

[Byl Laprovik]

"I learned my name the day you called me."

At least, what he was told his name was. Despite his desperation to believe, he'd learned quickly that he had an instinctual disposition to avoid trust. His natural ease in a state of paranoia was in direct conflict with the feeling of sanctuary he seemed to find in James' presence.

Something she said struck him.

"You said, my line of work?"

[James Prent]

She looked around surreptitiously, and said softly, "Maybe talking here isn't the best idea. About your... work. Sorry, frell, I'm probably making this worse, aren't I."

The waitdroid cycled up again, and she smooshed it back into its place before it could start talking. "Um, do you remember the Empire? The Rebel Alliance?"

[Byl Laprovik]

"I know of them. There are things I know. Lots of things. Things I can't understand why I even know them. I just don't know anything I've done, anywhere I've been, anyone I've known."

He closed his eyes and lowered his head a little.

"I know enough to know that there are six good exits from where we're sitting. I know that the tram behind us makes a stop every six and a half minutes. I know there are two Rodians and a Bith six tables down and the Bith is ambidextrous. I have no idea why these things are in my head."

[James Prent]

She leaned forward a little. "Your name is Byl Laprovik. You work, or worked, for the Rebel Alliance. I know that you're in the Intelligence division, that you're a ...spy," she whispered the word. "But I don't know much more than that, to be honest."

She flushed a little, "I met you on board the Dauntless, a capital ship of the Alliance. I was gettin' some medical attention. ...Had a mishap on a backwater..." James scrubbed a hand through her hair, causing part of it to stand on end. "You helped me get set up here, on Bespin. Through a contact of the Alliance. But," she added quickly, "I don't think you knew the guy personally."