Months passed, and Vel found a rhythm in the Coruscant underworld. From Jedi in training to a common thief, she marveled, shrugging it off dismissively. She had made her home in an abandoned hangar, in the levels far below the planet's surface, where only the scum and villainy tended to go. 

She would venture to the higher levels on "picking days", where she would select well-to-do shops and individuals from which to pilfer the various things that she decided she needed more than they did. The deserted hangar she called home also housed an abandoned ship, an old Republic tugboat retired from years of service and thoroughly picked-through by scavengers.

Quieter moments found her in meditation, trying to channel the Force through her as she once had. On one particular day, she managed to lift and turn a wrench, tightening a nut into its socket before the wrench clattered to the ground. A dismal victory, she decided. Right up her alley.

She kept to herself, wanting to avoid attracting any attention to the fact that she had moved in to the hangar. She set up a little target practice range, with a variety of pieces and parts that would move and spin to present challenges for her aim. Between pilfering and practice, the days melted away and the ache in her chest dulled. 

***

"Hey!!" a gravelly voice shouted, and Vel cursed under her breath, launching into a sprint. "Come back here!"

She flew down an alley, clutching a handful of credits, some shilo pins, and a couple capacitor bearings. Casting a glance behind her as she rounded the corner, she saw two angry Weequay in pursuit, waving blasters over their heads and shouting a variety of colorful insults. 

She leapt over a cart, scattering a basket of meilooruns and smacking her head on the vendor's makeshift canopy. This earned her a momentary splatter of bright light across her vision as well as an additional cacophony of vitriol from the merchant as the credits and parts scattered from her hands. 

Regaining her bearings, she heard the Weequay coming dangerously close. She wove through another alley, dodging trash cans and pedestrians, still blinking rapidly to try to clear her vision, now swimming with tears from her solid blow to the temple. She spotted a ladder up ahead and made a beeline for it, doors and windows flying past.

She had almost made it when a pair of arms snatched her mid-run, pulling her into a crevice between buildings that was barely big enough for one person, let alone two. She cursed and struggled, scratching at the walls and squirming in an attempt to free herself. Her captor had fallen behind her against the wall, pulling her in tight. She felt a hot breath on her ear and cringed at the anticipation of the throaty Weequay voice.

But it was an urgent whisper instead: "If you would please be quiet until your pursuers are gone..." The matter-of-fact insistence stopped her cold, and she froze in disbelief. She looked down at the arms across her stomach, registering the gray and red paint.

"Tech?!" she whispered, gasping into silence as she heard the Weequay trundling down the alley outside.

"Where did she go?" one called to the other, sniffing around menacingly.

"Check the ladder!?" the larger one pointed, and the two started off. They hadn't taken more than a single step before bright blue beams sizzled around each of them, and they dropped like stones. A second after that, Wrecker came charging around the corner, determined grin changing to disappointment as he saw their unconscious bodies.

"Aww, come on Crosshair, I almost had em!" he yelled, kicking one of their boots. "You never let me have any fun," he grumbled, sauntering back the way he had come.

Vel felt like pinching herself. She hadn't ever tried spice, but this sounded a lot like the spice dreams she had read about. Yet it felt so real. The arms around her loosened, bringing her back to reality and gently pushing her toward the opening. She stumbled out into the open, whirling around as quickly as she could. This resulted in a smarting pain in her temple, and she winced as she raised a hand to cover it. 

Tech emerged from the crevice, helmet first, then backpack antenna, then the rest of his glorious, tall, wonderful, incredibly welcome frame. Vel exhaled, looking up at him from her hand on her forehead. 

"What are you doing here? How did you find me?" she asked, dropping her hand to assume a completely dumbfounded posture. She was so flooded with relief at the sight of him, exhilaration from the pursuit, and confusion about the whole situation that she forgot the pain she'd been carrying for months.

"I will be happy to answer all your questions," Tech answered, corner of his mouth lifted in the hint of a smile, "When we are in a secure space. The ship is up above. Will you join me?"

She followed him after Wrecker, still speechless, mind racing with questions. They approached a set of lifts; the left was clearly occupied and on its way up, but the right was dark and available for use. They stepped on together, Tech punched a number, and the doors slid shut. 

The lighting in the lift was dim, and it reeked of all kinds of unsavory activities. Tech lifted his visor and regarded her from his helmet. 

"Is this what you have been doing?" he asked, without any trace of implication behind his words.

"Are you going to lecture me?" Vel retorted, lifting her chin as she met his gaze. 

"No," came the simple response, as Tech calmly returned his eyes to the front.

The lift arrived with a mechanical ding, and the doors opened. They walked wordlessly down a puzzle of streets, Tech tapping away on his datapad as if nothing had happened, until they arrived at the Marauder. 

Crosshair and Wrecker were already settled as Tech and Vel boarded the ship. She looked around, feeling the dull ache once again as she took in the space she had come to grow fond of. Tech took his seat at the pilot controls, powering up the ship, and Crosshair stared at her as she approached. Wrecker clapped her on the shoulder as he headed back toward the bunks, and it was then that she noticed something different.

"Where's Hunter?" she asked, looking after Wrecker. 

Crosshair smirked, bringing a foot up to rest on his chair, elbow propped up on his knee. "Hunter took a bit of a tumble," he said smoothly. Was he gloating? Or was that just the way he talked? She looked to Tech inquisitively.

"What happened?" she asked.

Finishing his sequence of switches and buttons, Tech swiveled in his seat to face her. "We were sent to sabotage a Separatist droid factory. The intel we were given suggested that the power cells were housed in extremely combustible and highly valuable ipsium. We placed charges appropriately and constructed a timed detonator, to ensure ample time for our escape, but..." he faltered, lowering his head shamefully. 

"But your star-crossed lover here got his wires mixed up," Crosshair interjected, jabbing his toothpick in Tech's direction, "And the factory collapsed before we could get out."

Two simultaneous reactions met his words: Tech's head snapped up at Crosshair's accusation, and Vel's eyebrows skyrocketed at the news. Something echoed in the back of her mind... star-crossed lover?... but it was overshadowed by the lack of closure about Hunter's status.

"Is he okay?" she asked, feeling a disproportionate amount of concern. 

"Yes," Tech answered pertly, still staring at Crosshair. "He suffered two femoral fractures due to a falling crossbar, but he is nearly entirely recovered. And the wires were not mixed up," he insisted, "The coating had an unexpected reaction with the ipsium."

Vel's relief at his words was quickly overtaken by a flashback to their little outing to the geological cache. She could see the glass case of mineral reactions, remembering distinctly her delight at the new combinations she hadn't yet known about. 

"Oh no," she said, realization dawning on her as she looked at Tech, "Were they syllen wires?"

"They were," he confirmed grimly, "And I am now fully aware of their combustibility in proximity to ipsium."

"Too bad you weren't there," Crosshair crooned, and Vel couldn't gauge his tone. Some mix of mocking, wistful, and disdain. The usual cocktail. She let it go and took a deep breath, dropping into a nearby seat. She absently rubbed her temple, squinting through the throbbing pain that was now emanating from both her head as well as her chest.

"May I assist with that?" Tech asked cordially, motioning toward her hand. 

"It's fine," she said dismissively, still fighting to form a coherent thought. "What am I doing here? What are you guys doing here?" she finally asked, looking at each of them in turn. 

"Well, we wondered if you would be open to assisting us again," came a silken voice from behind her. She swiveled in her seat to see Hunter sauntering in from the back, walking a bit more stiffly than usual but looking none worse for the wear. 

There was absolutely too much going on, and Vel felt near to a breaking point. She shook her head, immediately regretted it, and gritted her teeth as she closed her eyes. She hadn't realized how much had been pent up inside, between the disappointment of her departure to the stress of the day. She just wanted to sleep an entire day and night, wake up fresh, and start again.

"Let's fix that headache and you can go from there," Hunter invited, motioning for Tech to approach. He could sense her faltering, and was just in time with his recommendation. As Tech reached out to offer her a hand, she felt her eyes grow irresistibly heavy, followed by her head, and the last thing she saw before blacking out was a concerned pair of honey-colored eyes.