Its Been a Hard Day's Night (invite)

[Doc]

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Early July 2017
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Cyril was a having a great day. Doc has been gone for a couple of weeks now, and he had been able to whip the staff into shape. Things were running on a clearly defined scheduled. Not that Cyril begrudged Doc’s presence, but it did call for a less taxing day, when he didn’t have to answer the myriad of questions that Doc could come up with. Questions that, in the normal course of things that Cyril would not have even contemplated asking, if he were Doc. Doc was a micromanager. Not that Doc would agree with that assessment, but Cyril had seen plenty in his time. It is what happened when owner was a working owner. They either let things run into ruin, or they micromanaged everyone.

Cyril had even managed to run things with a higher profit than Doc, something he would be sure to bring up, if Dr. Nilson tried to butt in and change Cyril’s schedule. Hearing the electronic beep that indicated the front door opened, he assumed it was Dr. Nilson coming to check how things went while he was away. Cyril left his office intending to greet Doc halfway. It was about territory. Cyril had to establish this as his territory now. Doc needed to step back.

Exiting the hallway, to the reception area, Cyril frowned slightly as he realized it wasn’t Dr. Nilson at all, but someone else. He was about to turn around and head back, when Janice the receptionist called out to him.

“Mr. Emmerson.. Good! This Gentleman is here to see Doc.. Dr. Nilson. Maybe you can help him?” Janice handily reverse delegated the ‘client’ to Cyril to handle, as she went back to reading the screen of her computer.

Cyril gave Janice a brief exasperated look, before smiling politely at the gentleman, “Why don’t we step into my office.”

Cyril lead the way to his office, motioning the man to enter ahead of him. After they were both seated, Cyrill spoke, “So What can we help you with?”

The man leaned forward in his seat, his hands linked easily together, “Actually.. I am here to see Dr. Nilson.”

Cyril’s polite smile never faltered, “I don’t think you are. I manage all his business affairs.” He leaned forward pointedly, “All of them.”

The man smiled, “Not this time, I have an appointment.” He leaned back in his seat, quite comfortable from the look of it, as if he knew he would get his way.

Cyril wasn’t fooled by the man’s bravado. He could recognize someone posturing for dominance, and this man was doing just that. Whatever this gentleman wanted he was will willing lie to get it. Doc’s plane had only landed the evening before. There was no way Doc would set an appointment up this quickly. Doc liked things laid out in a methodical fashion. This was anything but methodical. This was ambush. But why? Cyril gave his guest a very thorough perusal. He was in his late 30’s, not well off based on the wear on his jacket cuffs. It had been a while since he had been to a barber, and he was quite tanned. Too tanned for Canada. Cyril stood up.
“I am sorry, I am going to have to ask you to leave now. I do not entertain people who lie to me.” He moved to the door and opened it. “Do not make me call security.”

The man looked as if he wanted to argue it out, but it was clear that Cyril wasn’t the type to be bullied, but he gave it one final go. “Fine. You will see. He will be livid when he hears you turned me away. Then you will be sorry.”

Cyril didn’t fall for it. He knew more than a little about Doc’s extracurricular activities. If the man truly knew Doc, he would not have been pushing this hard to see him, he would know that Doc would find him. No, this man was up to something. “Goodbye.”

As the man left, Cyril moved to the window, to watch where he went. Hearing the electronic chime that indicated the front door had opened, Cyril caught sight of man getting into a rental. He jotted the license plate number, make and color of the car down. Sitting back down, he pulled up the security camera and started scrolling back through the footage until he got a good screen grab of the man’s face. Calling Janice on the intercom, he asked if the man had left a card or his name. Janice said no.

After debating for a good half an hour, Cyril decided he needed to let Doc know. Cyril opened and email and began to document the entire visit for Doc, ending with the screen grab of the man’s face. He encrypted the email and hit send.

=======

Having just returned from Italy, Doc sat at his desk and got caught up on things. The town hall meeting was now only a couple of weeks away, and preparations needed to be made. He returned several calls that were in his voicemail, and then started answering his emails. He was in the midst of replying to one when he got a notification that he had a new email. He glanced at the lower corner of his screen, and saw it was from Cyril. Doc lifted an eyebrow. Cyril detested emails. He preferred to speak on the phone, or in person. What would cause him to email. Leaving the previous email in mid-reply, he opened Cyril’s email.

Having read Cyril’s email, Doc sat and pondered. Who was he and what he after? Picking up his phone, he called his other businesses. He knew Cyril was at the lab, but had this man gone to any of his other businesses? The call to the Travel Agency, gave him the news that yes, a Mr. Jones had come by to see him, but had left without leaving a contact number. The same held true with the Winterbrook, except this time it was a Mr. Simpson, again leaving no contacting number. He was about to call Yin, his bourbon bar, when his phone rang.

Looking at the number, he realized, that it was from Forbidden Desires. He answered the call. He was glad he did. The mystery man was there, currently. Doc told them to keep him there, he would be there shortly. He opened the side drawer of the desk and took out his Sig, and slid it into his shoulder holster. He stood, straightened his tie, buttoned his suit coat, moved to step into a portal, and appearing just outside the Veil Tower. Within a few moments he was walking into the Forbidden Desires Massage. Before shutting the door, , he gave the girl at the desk a nod and looked toward the door. She grabbed her purse, took the hint, and left. Only after she was gone, did Doc shut and quietly lock the door.

Moving to the small conference room, Doc entered silently, “I am Dr. Nilson. I understand we have an, appointment?” His tone was passive, but his eyes were far from reflecting passivity.

Jake Grigson stood up, his face wearing an easy smile, as he held out his hand. “I apologize for deception.. But you are a hard man to get in touch with.”

Doc ignored the extended hand, and merely looked at him silently. For the man to find out that Doc owned this business, took some digging on his part. He had left the business in it’s old owner’s name; careful to pay all bills and taxes through anonymous accounts. Only someone who knew how to dig through court filings would find his attachment to it.

“Right..” Jake pulled his hand back. “So I am here on behalf of my client.” Jake was beginning to think he had played this wrong. He reached into the inside of his jacket, to pull out a business card. When he looked back up at Dr. Nilson, there was a gun pointed at him. “Woah.. woah.. Woah…” He held out his business card toward him. Maybe it was best if he told his client he didn’t find him. “I’m a PI..just trying to find out some information, that you may know. That is all..”

Doc lifted an eyebrow, waiting. He did not reach for the card, not did he lower the gun.

Jake laid the card down on the glass top table. He nervously licked his lips, the way the Doctor was staring at him, he knew he needed to end quickly and get out. He easily lied, with a backup story that he had for just such occasions as this. “There was an incident, where you were mentioned as witness. My client would like you to give a statement about this incident.” No way was he going let that sweet girl come here. In his research he knew that the Doctor’s parents had lived in Toronto, and that someone killed them, and he had been on the hook for the deaths, until it was dropped because of he had an airtight alibi in Harper Rock. He would make it seem like someone else was now being looked at as the killer. Yes it was daring.. But man would want to know more about his parent’s death, right?

“My client is being looked at for your parents murder.” Jake noticed a slight flicker in the Doctor’s eyes. “He thinks you can help him. He swears he didn’t do it. And he wants to meet with you and talk to you. He thinks you can help him. You think about it.. And give me a call.. Yea?”

Doc holstered his gun.

Jake breathed a bit easy, as he stepped out of the conference room and headed for the exit. He was halfway to the exit. He was careful not to go too fast. That would be a giveaway that he was nervous. He should briefly look back, and say something, he thought to himself, it would look more nature. Except..

Jake never had the chance. Doc had moved with killing speed, grabbing Jake’s head and wrenched it violently to the side. The crunching and grinding of bones told Doc that Jake would be asking no more questions, or snooping about. Hefting the body over his shoulder, Doc read his tome and teleported out of the business.

[Doc]

Doc coalesced in the sewers, just outside his makeshift dungeon, for lack of a better word. Unlocking the door and carrying the body in, he dropped it unceremoniously on the ground. As Jake had been talking, stalling, trying to find away out of his predicament, Doc had been going over the iterations of dealing with the issue.

First, take care of the issue. Kill him. Done. Next, Get rid of the body. Doc threw a lever on the wall that connected to hijacked powergrid. The incinerator began to hum. He lit the pilot light. The body would be gone by this time tomorrow. Now, to give himself an alibi.

Shedding his coat, and tie, he tossed them on his work bench, before moving to stand over, and stare at the body. Grabbing the jaw of the body, Doc carefully turned the face, left, right, up and down, staring, memorizing face, thinking back on the Jake’s mannerisms. He saw no notable scars, or marks on his face that were unique. He then looked at the body’s hands. No ring on the left hand, but there was a dent, as though it was only recently that he stopped wearing it. Nails were torn, broken and unkempt. Turning the hands over, there a was a scar on his wrist. Not a suicide attempt scar, but a traumatic injury followed by medical intervention type scar, perhaps a compound fracture at the wrist that required pinning. He continued to check the body for specific characteristics for the next half hour.

He wrestled the jacket off the body. Not an easy task, but necessary for his alibi. It was a chore. That’s why he usually didn’t bother removing items from a body. Well one of the reasons. The personal items had a tendency to come back to haunt a perpetrator. Better to just burn everything, than risk being caught over a cheap piece of jewelry or watch. Most perps didn’t have the stones to burn it all. They wanted to keep a part of their victim somewhere. It was usually a momento of the victim. Doc didn’t keep that kind of totem. But for now, he needed the guy’s wallet.

Doc emptied his own pockets and then replace his wallet with Jake’s. He donned Jake’s jacket and checked it pockets. Car keys. Rental Agreement. Hotel passcard. Alright. It was starting to take shape. He double check the face for a few minutes, nodded to him, and concentrated. Over the course of the next few seconds, Doc took on the very likeness of Jake Grigson (Power: Alter Ego). He then dragged the body by it’s foot over the incinerator, hefted it in and shut the door.

‘Jake’ then left the sewer dungeon and headed through the sewers back to the area of the Veil towers and made up it back to the street level. He had been careful to avoid the CCTV as much as possible, but now, as he headed for ‘Jake’s’ rental, he wanted to be seen. Thanks to Cyril, Doc knew the make and model of the rental car, so it wasn’t that difficult to find it, once he hit the key fob. Opening the driver door he got in and acted as though he were going to leave, when he got a ‘call’.

The call was answered. But in reality, he had placed a call to Dominique, and got her voice mail. “Call me when you get this.” He hung up and made sure he was still visible as he dialed another number. There was no answer. He dialed a different number. No answer. And another. ‘Jake’ got out of the car, phone to his ear and absently shut the car door. As soon as the door clicked shut, ‘Jake’ whirled about and tried the handle. Locked with the keys inside. ‘Jake’s’ shoulders sagged. Then he started searching his pockets, and pulled out the rental contract. ‘Jake’ dialled the number on the contract.

“Good evening, Hertz Rental, this is Charlotte, how can I help you?”

“Hi Charlotte,” Jake’s voice had a bit of a southern twang to it. “I rented a car from you folks a couple days ago.. I have locked my keys in it.. Can I get some assistance.”

“Yes.. can I have your rental agreement number?”

‘Jake’ supplied the number.

“Mr. Grigson, can you confirm by giving us your Drivers License ID number please.”

‘Jake’ nodded, “Yes I can.” Opening ‘Jake’s’ wallet, the number was given as requested.

“If you will hold on one moment, i will get Onstar the line.”

“Good evening this Bill from Onstar, how can I be of assistance.”

“Bill, this is Charlotte from Hertz, our Client Mr. Grigson has locked his keys in his car. Vehicle ID HertzOT0987B77.”

“Thank you Charlotte. I am sending the signal now. And your doors should be open.”

“Yes! They are. Thank you Charlotte.. Bill”

“You are quite welcome Mr. Grigson, is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”

“Maybe there is.. Where can a man get a decent steak.. Close by?”

Charlotte laughed, “Let’s see.. “

Bill cut Charlotte off, “There is a Steak place about 3 kilometers northeast of you, sir. Santiago’s Seafood and Steak. It was rated 5 out of 5 stars.”

“That’s great guys.. “ ‘Jake’ drawled. “Much appreciate you all’s help.”

“Have a good evening Sir.” The call was disconnected.

‘Jake’ got into the car, drove the three kilometers to Santiago’s and parked. He went into the restuarant, requested a seat at the bar. He ordered a beer, then asked the direction of the restroom. He headed to the restroom. Once inside, ‘Jake’ read a tomb, and dispersed into nothingness, and coalesced back at the portals.

‘Jake’s’ visage then disappeared as Doc retook his normal countenance. Step three, Alibi complete. Hertz, Onstar and numerous CCTV cameras, all saw Jake leave the Veil, lock his keys in his car, and enter a steak place. He took off Jake’s jacket. Step four, burn everything.

[Dominique]

It was a chore and a half to get the job done but at last it was complete. Each paint chipped finger nail that she poked into the center of the silky buns found what she expected. The style was fixed tight to each side of her head and satisfied her with the brief inspection that no strands of her waist length hair were going to get free from the confines of the commercial grade hairpins that made her feel like a voodoo doll in use.

“Hmm…” The sound that echoed behind her had her turning quickly on her heels to find nothing there to see.

“You find this amusing I take it.” She ignored the possibility that Kismet would be in the space she moved through. She learned that the wraith that was known to follow her around could reveal himself when he chose to but currently it appeared this was not to be one of those moments. “It is a thing.”
“Do you know the unmarried Hopi wore such a style to reveal their status? Squash blossoms I believe it is referred to.”
“Yeah, I am entitled even if I am not going to hang with the Hopi.” The makeshift tunic dress slid over her body and she was thankful that the mirror nearby offered no reflection. She figured she was looking like Carrie Fisher with a hell of a lot more ink. That was good enough. “Where is my light saber?”
“Is that on my list of duties?” The voice followed her as she went to look for it in the wardrobe closet. “To keep inventory of your belongings?”
“Sure.” She commented reaching for the wrought iron tear drop handles.Once the doors were wide open she started digging through the piles of clothing and shoes pooled on the interior bottom that had been neglected to be put away. “If it is your thing to remember where I dump things then why not keep track of them?” She glanced over her shoulder as if something suddenly changed and he would be visible. “You have too much time on your hands that you are left hanging with nothing to do.”
“I find that interesting coming from you.” He was close enough to her that he could smell the chemicals she sprayed on her hair to freeze it in place. The buns would not be going anywhere until it each were subjected to a hot shower and palmful of shampoo or hurricane force winds. Some of it had to be hazardous. “I do hope your shift is flame retardant.”

Dominique would never know that his eyes found it difficult to see through the material lingering against her curves which was somewhat disappointing. Kismet, as she named him, was cursed to be nothing more than her shadow but it did not mean he lacked the memories of what he once was, what he once felt and could do. She was far safer with him this way. If only she knew just how much.

“Why?” Her body stood to her natural height of five feet and a few inches to spare. Her healthy complexion extended to her crimson rose adorned feet which caught her eyes. Each petite foot slid purposely into mismatched sandals while she looked down at the choices. “I am going to a movie theater. Not a bonfire.”
“Which is a mild relief to hear with as much of that horrendous spray you have on your hair.”

Kismet floated to the other side of the room and sulked where he always did when she was about to leave. He watched Rufus move from where his shell had been motionless for the better part of the recent conversation. At least the turtle that had free reign of the floor he migrated back and forth on had something that he could rely on to prove he was there to those in the room. Rufus had likely worked up an increased stink when he finally took a pause in front of the leaf bowl.

“Listen.” She slid the lightsaber in the small leather strap at her hip. “We always go through this when you are feeling left out. Angel Bob isn’t going. He doesn’t take it personal.” Her dark eyes pinned on him as if she found him sitting out in the open, which she did. “He finds people to bug, snoops around and…”
“Sings songs to you.” He interjected which had her go quiet only briefly.
“He used to sing to me. That was when I couldn’t see him or knew what a wraith was. I thought he was my imagination working against me.”
“I can go with and keep an eye on you.” His focus left her and eyed Vader the bull terrier that entered the room wearing a Superman cape that was in need of a little Woolite and a hot wash and double rinse. It was that or slip into Rufus’ shell again and wait until she returned. “I won’t disturb you.”
“Promise?” She decided the right sandal was a far better choice than the left. As she pulled it free from the back of her bare heel her cell phone started dancing on the surface of the nearby table. “Pretty sure that is him.” She cleared the distance between with the rejected sandal in the hook of her finger.
“Him?” Kismet had eyes and they rolled even if was denying her the visual proof. “Figures.”

“You ready?” She didn’t wait for him to confirm if he was. He offered earlier and she had accepted. This was a done deal. He wouldn’t get a chance to slip out of it. Not this time. “I am. I will meet you at the theater. Don’t forget to wear the mask. I am bringing the buns.”

Without another word said she clicked the phone off and skipped the human task of driving there. It saved time and kept her buns from blowing in the wind. Kismet sat there like a statue while Rufus’ head stuck out more than usual as if he was trying to see where she went.

“She is gone buddy.” Kismet floated up and hovered briefly over the pet. “Keep an eye on the place. Her man thing comes back hit the shell. It has kept you around and off his shop shelf this long. I will make sure she returns.” With that the wraith disappeared as did the small portion of green leaf in the turtle’s slow moving mouth.

[Doc]

Doc had tomed from the steak place, shed the dead Jake’s jacket, and was pulling fresh clothes out of the drawer, when his cell phone rang. Seeing that it was Dominique, he grinned. She had called him back earlier that he had requested, while he was at the restaurant, and they agreed to see the new Star Wars movie. She had said something else, but he merely agreed because he didn’t want to have a long conversation that could be overheard and recounted to the police later. So he had just answered ‘Movie? Yes. Yes. and Alright yes.’ There wasn’t much the police could get out of that.

He answered the cell, thinking she had forgotten the time or location, and he had barely got out the word, “Minx…” When she started speaking.

“You ready?” She didn’t wait for him to confirm if he was.

‘Ready?’ Doc frowned. Ready for what? It was just a movie… how much does it take to get ready to see a movie?

He offered earlier and she had accepted. This was a done deal. He wouldn’t get a chance to slip out of it. Not this time. “I am. I will meet you at the theater. Don’t forget to wear the mask. I am bringing the buns.” Without another word said she clicked the phone off.

Doc pulled the cell away from his ear and stared at it. What the **** was she talking about? Buns? Then it hit him. While he was paying attention to the people at the restaurant, she had been giddily excited about cosplaying at the movie. Forcing himself to recall the memories of that moment, he replayed it in his mind.

‘A movie?’ She squee'd happily, ‘the new Star Wars one?’

He had said yes. It was an action movie. He liked action movies..

‘We should go in character!’

Doc sucked in a horrified breath, as it dawned him, he had said.. ‘Yes.’ He had been preoccupied at the restuarant, **** it all!

‘I will wear the buns.. If you wear the mask? You know the mask I got you..? The one you promised to wear..? Alright?’

And then he had said.. ‘Alright, Yes.”

Doc raked a hand through his hair. **** him. He had agreed to dress up as a ******* masked freak to go watch a movie! In public, no less!

“****! ..” shoving the drawer shut, Doc moved to closet. He remembered shoving the mask up on a shelf. Opening the closet, he looked at the shelf. There was no missing it. It was so obvious. Pulling down the box, He looked at the artwork. Ok.. He needed a black shirt and black jeans; and a cape. A ******* cape. Where was he supposed to find a ******* cape in the next five minutes? He looked at the shelf, a second box. He pulled it down. His shoulders dropped. It was the rest of the costume.

“Well played Minx.. well played.” He eyed it. Maybe it wouldn’t fit. Growling under his breath, he changed into the costume. It wasn’t the best fit ever, but it wasn’t too small. Well, if nothing else, with the helmet on, no one would recognize him.

Except.. **** him. He needed people to recognize him.. He needed a ******* alibi. Minx had played this well. She knew. Somehow she knew. She knew and she used this to her advantage. Fine. He would be a good sport. He looked at the bright side. There was no way someone would plot, plan a murder someone, and use a cosplay movie event as an alibi.. Right? It would be too ludicrous.

By the time Doc arrived at the theater, he had resolved himself to the fact this was a well planned event, that would be his alibi. He had not put the mask on yet, but it was actually too hard to see out of it. Getting his ticket, the girl behind the ticket booth window grinned at him. He had to admit, he would be remembered. Upon entering the lobby, he saw Minx, in her ..buns. Doc laughed. He looked better than her.

Putting the mask on, he stalked up to her, and in a heavy growly voice, “Minx.. I am your father!”

[Dominique]

“No ****.” She eyed him up and down finding he was that and a whole lot more. “Seriously, you really need to wear this more often.” A full circle completed left her confirming it. “Yes, indeed.”

A few slow steps around him had her nodding slowly in approval while HOPE went casually to her hip. With a whoosh of sound generated from the sliver tube pulled into her grip a sudden twirl of movement had the feather light fabric lifting from her hips as she revealed the blue beam of light . If Princess Leia had a hidden talent then it would appear to be a sci-fi version of fencing. Her eyes stuck with him as her much smaller body executed a flawless fluid like passata sotto despite the absence of his light saber in a dark gloved hand. Her body dropped, LESS reaching for the floor only long enough for her to tap at him for the credit of making contact. The movement of kids bodies trying to get around while others were gathering didn’t stop her. She spiraled up to her feet once again.

“And you shall pay!” Her movements were slow enough that she was not leaving the typical blink-and-you-will-miss-it streak of skin as the theater lobby patrons stopped in their tracks to watch. A slick fluge earned a gasp as she made contact a second time with her trusty light beam. “That is twice old man. Use the force.” She stepped back on a sandal wrapped heel and pulled off a Yoda style back flip that surprisingly proved those buns were nearly permanent on the side of her head. “I have it." A twist of her wrist had the glowing blue light leaving swirls in the air between them. "My sister has it." another rotation and the beam divides the space between them as if a smooth line had been drawn. "My father has it.” She smirked to a couple who held their bucket of popcorn closer when she spotted them close enough she could smell the extra butter soaking into the top of the hot clouds of popped kernels.

“Oh hey now,I got it, babygirl.” A chick wiggling her movie size package of Twizzler’s like it was a golden ticket to the fun house cheered. “Mhmmm! Show him what it is all about.”
“The force.” Dominqiue cheekily winked his direction sure that mask or no mask he knew exactly what she meant. She thoroughly enjoyed it when he did. Her brows danced as she tempted him. “Bring it!”

[Doc]

“Really?” Doc looked at her, from behind his mask, lowering his voice, “We have done this once.. You know I won.. I do not intend to lose, this time either. You will yield.” Then he turned his head toward the Twizzler chick and gave her a stare and pointed at her, “And you will agree with me.”

There was a small boy about eight years old, standing with his parents. His little eyes wide as he stared at the two. The child was dressed as a Sith Lord. Doc scoured his memory. He knew they were against the Jedi, but that was all he could remember. Pointing a black gloved hand at the boy, “Will you stand with me Sith Lord?”

The sheer look of joy on the boy’s face almost caused Doc to laugh, as the boy rushed to ‘Darth’s’ side. Darth Doc looked at Minx Lea, “You will not prevail..” Stepping slowly forward in a menacing fashion, the little Sith Lord by his side, he advanced on Dominique.

Doc grasped the petite Dominique by the throat, and lifted her up. Doc then cast ‘mob rule’ on those assembled by them. Looking at the Tweezler Chick, “What say you.. Should she yield?”

The Chick, feeling the urge of Mob Rule, seemed suddenly less sure of herself. She looked at the parents of the boy. She looked at the Boy. She looked at the crowd. Then back the Darth Doc, “YES!! She should yield!”

The crowd, now siding with Darth Doc, began to chant, “Yield! Yield! Yield!”

Smiling behind his mask, Doc coo’ed at Dominique, “Do you yield?” He paused, “The movie is about to start…”

[Dominique]

The grip of the glove on her colorful throat was no surprise as the crowd was in an impressive chorus to yield. Wasn’t that what it was all about? She figured it was. The excitement of the unexpected. Changing script and giving a different twist to what otherwise had been set in film history. Good was always winning and the bad guys were mowed over and left in a cloud of ego clogging dust. Any other time it could be seen as a challenge of which she was known to be cursed with the inability to refuse. The fix of the leather at her neck assured her it was hardly the case, the young Sith at his side enforced it. In that moment she owned her part as it was written by them.

“I do.”

Dominique knew the best advice she received was given years back with ample amounts of first hand experience at the very hand that held her high above the crowd. She always picked her battles wisely, in the very least had learned timing and strategy were key. A true battle was not isolated to a single moment, nor was the victory. The ones that shaped the young shadow were still taking place and she was reminded of that as she set her eyes on those that knew her all too well.

“I yield, my Lord.”

The words were profound as they were released with more determination in her tightening jaw than resistance. A loaded reference taking a far deeper meaning than in the Star Wars universe or the human world about them. While it was nothing more than a theater lobby buzzing with approval at the darkness holding the Princess it went much deeper than that and she knew it. One of the symbols of hope went on a whole other path not considered a possibility. Left without a bearded Obi or any astromech droid within her reach she made a choice. One that had no spoilers or a predictable end. HOPE tossed the lightsaber down to the Sith kid.

“Just don’t tell Luke. He wouldn't understand.” The weight of her body swayed at her feet as she looked towards the sudden flow of bodies exiting the depths of the theater. Their showing was about to begin. “Ready when you are.”
“She gave in. What was that?” The Twizzler chick grumbled as she turned and hooked up with who she was waiting for. “So wrong. I would have sabered him at the knees.” An arm went around the woman’s shoulders to guide her in her disappointment. “Wait…” The two bodies paused as her feet froze. “Did she say not to tell Luke? He is alive?!”
“Whoops.” Dominique winced and patted the leather hand holding her. “I suggest we get inside before the show really starts.”