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Araeana

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Araeana chuckled softly, rolling her eyes. "You still don't appreciate how much work goes into making machines run smoothly. Remember how impatient you were when I was getting that old speeder we found running, back on Dantooine?"

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The Twi-Lek rolled her eyes again. [if he's just trying to get me angry, I'm not going to give him the satisfaction] Several silent minutes passed, and Araeana put her tools back into the kit and looked down at her handiwork. "There. Shouldn't have any more problems with it for a while." She stood and gazed down at Chikara's mechanical arm. The strange whirring sound had stopped. Her eyes traveled back towards the steel plating stretched over his shoulder. It looked as though it had been welded directly onto his flesh... She shivered involuntarily. "Why... Did your master do that to you?"

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Araeana studied Chikara's still form intently, looking for some hope to grab onto. The boy she had grown up with must still be there somewhere. But even if he wasn't, how could she ever know? Try as she might, she couldn't sense anything behind Chikara's hard mask of cold cruelty. Again, resenting her ineptitude with the force, she threw up her hands. "Where do you want me to start?"

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Araeana looked up at the thin white line on his forehead. "Like I said, we thought we were there to stop you from killing a stranger... but your master knew... somehow he sensed that I would come. You were meant to kill me. That was your test. And you almost did it too, nearly chopping off my head-tail. Then Kira intervened. She held you at bay long enough for me to contact the academy. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was your old lightsaber melt clean through her chest. When I woke up, they thought it was me. They thought that I had killed her, out of jealousy for her force-sensitivity... I don't know... You left the lightsaber by me I assume. I got kicked out. Not charged, because they didn't have enough proof, but kicked out of the only home I knew. I started working for a clan of Hutts on Tattooine as a smuggler. That brought me here... What about you?" She gestured at his bionic body. "What's your story?"

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Chikara looked at her, sensed she couldn't harm him more than insults, so he spoke. "Kira..." he spoke less monotonous, but still mechanical, "... was weak. You were weak... I had to punish you both for interfering. My master was displeased with my inability to kill you, so he felled my arm. In order for me to be able to serve him to my fullest extent, I paid my gambling credits on this replacement. My master welcomed me back hesitantly. As I watched him over the years, I found his weaknesses, and exploited them. My master is a sullen heap, buried in the wastes of Nar Shadaa. It's amazing what the Exchange will pay for a dead Jedi." He could see the look of horror on Araeana's face, and grinned. "I have been out collecting what I can to keep ahead of those who seek my power. Bribing, and killing those who get in my way. I would have done so to you, but I feel a hate within you." He sat silent for a while, letting all this sink in to her.

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Araeana had listened in silence to Chikara's taunting speech. She could handle him calling her weak, incompetent, but his last remark had crossed a line. "Listen! I don't know who the hell you think you are, walking onto MY ship, ordering me around, insulting me... But just because you've turned your back on the Jedi doesn't mean that I ever, EVER will! I could never EVER feel HATE!" Araeana exploded at him. Then her features dissolved suddenly behind a mask of calm, her hands unclenched from their tight balled fists, and she breathed lightly, afraid she was making his point for him. She saw the corners of his mouth twitch. Angrily, she flipped her lekku back behind her again, turned on her heel, and stomped out of the cargo hold. She strode down the long twisting corridor into the cockpit, and plunked herself down into her chair.

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Chikara chuckled coldly, and stood. He pulled on his hooded robes of black, and headed for the cockpit slowly, making mental notes of all the fracture points of the ship. He soon arrived at the cockpit. "No hate? What was that? I still see the dark swells in your palms caused by your nails."

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"Ha ha," Araeana replied sarcastically, still hiding behind the calm mask. She shook her head. "Extreme annoyance maybe, but not hate." She gestured for Chikara to take the passenger's seat at her right-hand side. "What exactly is it that you want from me, Chikara? Why did you bother sneaking onto my ship? I think I have the right to know."

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Araeana looked over the Canary's sensor logs. "Nope... Still no sign..." Araeana leaned back, lifting her legs to rest on a disabled console. An idea struck her suddenly, and she was surprised that her first reaction to the notion was an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. "Chikara..." She started, with a sideways glance at the pale black-robed man. "You didn't... arrange this... Did you? I mean, the call to deliver the shipment here... That wasn't from you, was it?"

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Araeana straightened up in her seat and set course for Nar Shadaa. She looked over at Chikara. "I hope you know that I expect payment for this. And if you did something nasty to my contact, someone's gonna have to pay for all that spice..."

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Chikara returned to his seat. "What spice?" He tucked a small black case under his cloak when Araeana wasn't looking, and he turned to watch the scenery of the rock fall away. "And why should I pay you? I'm keeping you alive for..." He thinks a moment, his hand touching his saber. "Why am I keeping you alive?"

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