Do You Have A Flag: We Don't Want Any. Go Away.

[Morgan Evanar]

"I've never been a good liar, but I don't get drunk." Except at being a drunk, apparently. Growing up on Nar Shadda, he had plenty of material to draw from. Morgan, for his part, managed not to roll his eyes. He wasn't much for half-measures. Sanis gave him some serious side eye. What he did get was a headache, and it had started knocking about in his skull, building a nest of pain. He was glad to have vomited some of the alcohol out in the drunk tank (into the can), or it could have been much worse. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and realized that Sanis was sharing some of the misery too. Sanis did a solid and handed Morgan a bottle of sports drink and a pair of ration bars. Morgan spit the first half-mouthful and chugged it. The Jedi systematically devoured the ration bars. The former smuggler handed Morgan a giant ugly brown raincoat, hat, and a pair of shoe slip-overs. No sense in leaving any evidence.

"Sorry about the head." Morgan said sympathetically. Sanis shrugged. He'd been hit much harder for way less.

Sanis handed Morgan a bulky monitor/recorder and started the footage in normal speed when the droid was pulled from the speeder. He concentrated through the headache, and traced a mental path through the covered speeder lot. The droid sat on a desk for about half an hour, and then was finally moved into evidence. Morgan hadn't been through the entire building, but the droid had passed enough reference points that the Jedi was able to draw a clear mental map and started to feel the points in the universe relative to his point in the universe.

He handed the device back to Sanis and everything except the place of things faded away. Morgan blinked, and saw the mouse droid. It had a splash of oxidized blood on it. He turned away from the shelf and surveyed the room rapidly. The door was quite sturdy metal, remote and physically locked from the outside. The shelves were sturdy metal industrial designs bolted to the floor. He immediately discarded any objects that didn't meet the shape criteria first. This left him with two sets of objects. There were 17 glove-like objects and 30 cylindrical ones. He sorted though the cylinders first: spray cans, bottles and spanners were easy to dismiss rapidly. He found the first lightsaber and the tractor beam projector. The other lightsaber was in the bin next to the first. He put everything into the rain coat's cavernous pockets and took a deep breath. When he opened them he could see rain splattering the sidewalk again.

This time, he was on his feet, but his headache was now much worse. Morgan descended to his knees and audibly groaned.

"Most of the pain, none of the fun."

[Sanis Prent]

"You need a minute?"

It came out a question, but it was more like a major suggestion. Shit, what was it about disappearing and reappearing somewhere else that gave me the willies? The implicit nightmares of ending up halfway inside a wall, for one. And my favorite magician was right in all the pleasant throes of detox.

No pressure, right?

I paced nervously, running a hand through my mussed hair. I didn't have time to think about it before, but I was having all sorts of time now. Maybe I wasn't as wrecked by putting on airs for a night out, but I definitely felt queasy.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Yeah." Morgan let his shoulders slump for a minute. The rain rhythmically pattered against the waterproof hat. He sought a calm in the steady drops.

Breathe. Let the Force flow through you. Let it guide you. The Jedi moved through the entire code silently, and recited the mantra in his head, but could not find the same deep peace he used to. That in itself was unsettling.

Morgan opened his eyes after several minutes. He rose to his feet slowly, for his hangover was an angry god that rampaged through his head.

"Jabiim sucks. Let's get out of here."