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Thread: The Stowaway

  1. #41
    "Sounds good," he said politely. Mike wasn't actually sure he'd ever had dewback, and if he did he probably hadn't asked what it was. He'd never been an especially picky eater, and definitely not when he was someone else's guest.

    He stepped out of the room, closing it behind him and waiting for her to take the first step toward the galley so he could fall in step just behind her. He'd looked over the map before leaving the room, but it would be easiest to memorize if he was following someone else, at least this first time. He people watched from the corner of his eye as they walked, various crew members went about their day without a second glance in his direction, and if they did he was almost certain the attention came from noticing the Captain, rather than the scruffy orange-haired youth alongside her.

    He ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth, uncertain what if any small talk he could make. "Sooooo," he considered before deciding it was at least a question to break the ice, "Have you known Mr. Prent a while?" He'd only known the man for a few short years... dren had it been that long already? Some quick math in his head had him suddenly feeling the age he didn't physically appear, as his 30s creeped up on him.

  2. #42
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    It was a question that sent her back in time, if only briefly.

    "I've known him for a long enough time," she started slowly, as they continued on their way.

    "You know, before all of the fancy clothes and high standings he currently enjoys, he was quite the pickpocket."

    She grinned at the memory, of Sanis trying to steal - of all things - a few bottles of ink and a stylus from her.

    She lead the way to a lift, gesturing for Michael to enter first once the doors had whisked open.

    "He was not very good at it, I would like to add."

    The obvious reasons why didn't need to be said aloud, as she knew that Michael would understand; after all, he could feel the Force just as much as she could.

  3. #43
    He'd paused, just for a moment, at the revelation of Mr. Prent's past. Blinking a bit as he was led to the lift, and considered that.

    "Huh." He said a bit under his breath, and followed up with a second, slightly deeper, "Huh."

    He had not expected Mr. Prent's background to be so weirdly reminiscent of his own, and he was suddenly curious what course of events had led to him being in Ms. Sasseeri's employ. He had, himself, come to work for the syndicate after attempting, and failing, to steal the Cizerak crime lord's handbag. His gift with the Force had convinced her he was an asset with keeping. Knowing that Prent had come from such similarly petty larceny was oddly humanizing of his poker-faced employer. "Hard to imagine him that way."

  4. #44
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    "Well, he's come a long way from those old days," she admitted ruefully as the lift took them upward.

    "Back then he always dreamed of getting himself rich, and I suppose now he's done that in a way."

    The lift slowed to a fluttering stop, and as the floor beneath them stilled, the doors opened to reveal yet another corridor of bulkheads. Up ahead, the narrowness widened up to reveal a small sitting area with a doorway that opened to disgorge a small group of maintenance techs; behind them was the recognizable signs of a mess hall before the doors closed once more.

    Leading the way out from the lift, the Lupine went on.

    "If I may ask, how did you find your way into your current employment?"

  5. #45
    Cline still needed to be careful with what information and how much of it he gave. There was no way of knowing just how much of Mr. Prent's business she was actually aware of, and he wasn't about to give that away, any more than he had been willing to divulge his Force sensitive nature to Mr. Prent. His employers offered information when and where they wanted to, and it wasn't appropriate for him to overstep those boundaries.

    "I used to work for the main office on Coruscant." He said with a shrug, "I sort of lucked into that job, actually." He pursed his lips at the memories of the days right after the crew had fallen apart. When he'd attempted to kill Kyashi and lost track of everyone else. He'd been back on the streets, surviving off grift and theft. His face turned down a bit at the thought of Sudoku and the role the boy had in him losing that particular position as well.

    "I uhhh, I trusted the wrong person." He rumbled out with a sheepish embarrassment, sighing, "And while they let me stay on with the company, I got transferred to Bespin. I've been working for Mr. Prent ever since."

  6. #46
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    "I know what it's like to trust the wrong person," she offered in a level tone, and stepping past the engineers, continued to lead the way through the door to the mess.

    It wasn't a large space, but thankfully it wasn't small either, and s'Il navigated the small smattering of tables toward where the counter was, and behind that was the kitchen where the old Kaleesh woman, Idiri, cooked. She was as much of a ruler of this place as s'Il was a captain of it, and more than once the Lupine had watched in amusement as Samus was scolded for eating too much, or Mr. Raghus was shooed away from taking thirds.

    Set up like a simple food line, there was a stack of trays, metal plates and utensils, and a sliding counter to set the trays atop. Behind the glass were steel tubs of whatever food was available, and there had been more than a few times that most were close to empty by the time she'd managed to find time to eat.

    Now however, they were still well before that late hour, and s'Il could see the Kaleesh woman working behind her counter, furiously slicing up a cooked dewback flank while one of her helper droids stood behind, stirring the contents of a large pot with a long wooden spoon.

  7. #47
    The engineers had come and gone, as well as a few of the pilots. The Captain and her cadre of ravenous males had yet to make an appearance, and Idiri enjoyed the peace and quiet until...

    The sound of the door opening and closing once more was enough to cause her to shift her eyes, and pausing her knife only long enough to regard the Captain and... a stranger? A scowl, and the Kaleesh slowly set the knife on the cutting board.

    "You have brought to me a new face," she called out matter-of-factly.

    "Fire hair," she said those two words with a snorted breath, and her knife was brandished once more as she set back to her cutting, "... bad luck, to have the fire hair."

  8. #48
    "You're not wrong..." Cline found himself replying under his breath.

    His luck was terrible and had been for a very long time. Things were better now, but it still felt like a razor's edge day in and day out, his own anger, fear and history constantly threatening to drown him just as much as hiding who he was to everyone around him, for fear of Imperial discovery. He had bad luck, and he knew it. The old woman had gone back to her work without much additional concern, and Mike figured it had to be busy on a ship this big to keep the crew fed. People had different schedules, different habits, different needs.

    Now she seemed to be cutting meat - no doubt the mentioned Dewback flank. It certainly smelled appetizing and Mike's stomach danced at the aroma - reminding him how long it had been since he had eaten...

    That realization set in like an anchor in his gut and he was now sure that Dewback flank would be the best thing he'd ever eaten, at least until the hunger pangs were satisfied.

  9. #49
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    "Our esteemed Matron of the Galley is not one to mince words," she chuckled out lightly while taking a tray and passing it to Michael before taking one for herself. The same was done for the plates, and then a knife and fork for each. Plate and utensils were all set upon the tray, which was in turn set upon the countertop.

    With a partial upward twist of her lips, the Lupine watched the Kaleesh continue to cut.

    "I am told you have prepared some form of dish from Sullust, today."

  10. #50
    "I make the food that I have available," came the grunted answer as she gestured with a free hand for the Fire-Hair's plate.

    "Dewback roasted with spices from a vendor on Jovan, and noodles that I think come from a planet of the Pride. I was told that the flavor is good, and so I agreed to buy a bulk."

    Two thick cuts were speared by the tip of her knife, and she held it up to let it fall onto Fire-Hair's dish.

    "Droid!"

    The spindly old B1 Battledroid behind her immediately stood up straight, the spoon it held pulling out of the pot. It was a strange looking thing, having been painted a light grey with green and orange accents. A single eye had a black circle drawn roughly around it, and a ratty, food-stained apron hung from its neck.

    Ma'am?

    "Noodles." She roughly put two cuts on the Captain's plate as she spoke gruffly. "... one serving each."

    Roger roger!

  11. #51
    Mike watched the meat glisten on his plate, barely registering the surrounding conversation. Right now it was the finest meal he'd ever seen - a five-star dish from the most exclusive restaurant on Coruscant, at least that's the signal his stomach was sending his protein-deprived brain, which found itself in no condition to argue. It wasn't until the repurposed droid dropped a helping of noodles from it's long spoon onto his plate that he was snapped back to reality.

    "Ah, thank you."

    He managed to recollect his manners enough to respond even as he found his stomach driving his attention back to the meal that was in front of him. He tried to hold his attention on the Captain, the Galley chef and the droid but couldn't help his eyes from wandering, nor his mouth from watering.

  12. #52
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    "Noodle sauce over there," Idiri gestured with her knife to the last section of the countertop, where a small array of sunken bowls with ladles sticking out could be seen.

    "Thank you, Idiri."

    s'Il nodded gratefully as she extended her thanks to the old battle droid, Bone. Moving past the both of them as another group had wandered in to get their own meals, she set her attentions to Michael once more.

    "I wasn't entirely sure why she wanted that old relic, and I'll honestly say that he makes me nervous, but she's been programming him with a bunch of her recipes, so I can't be too mad at him, I suppose."

    Taking a ladle, she lifted it out to reveal a blue, thick sauce that looked to have small feeder shrimp mixed in. This she held up so that Michael could position his plate in such a way that she could top his steaming noodles.

    "Still, when one has fought in the Clone Wars, there's a certain aversion to those droids that never really leaves."

  13. #53
    Michael watched the blue sauce shimmer on the ladle, the conversation still a distant drumming in the background as he wondered what it would taste like - he wasn't sure if he'd ever had a sauce that color on... well anything before. Was it sweet, was it strong? Was it... he felt the haze over his attention lift, just for a moment as he caught a statement that pulled him out of his hunger-induced fog and back to the Captain.

    "Wait. You fought in the Clone Wars?"

    He would have made the captain for a few years older than himself, maybe a decade at most. His brain had screeched to a halt at the sudden suggestion that the Captain was a fair bit older than she appeared, and more so that she had been around for the war that had established the Empire to begin with. He had no room to question how young or old someone looked compared to their actual age, considering, but it had caught him off guard regardless.

  14. #54
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    A light smile, as she set to dressing her own noodles.

    "Guilty as charged."

    The ladle was returned to its original resting place, and s'Il gestured to a table that rested along the far wall.

    "I was still just a Padawan then, but I saw enough action to have ugly memories. Though, I had some good memories as well, so I suppose that you could see it as a case of looking for any scrap of good in a terrible situation."

  15. #55
    He followed her to the table, sitting across from her and listening. So she had been a Jedi at one point. It certainly explained his initial reaction to her - and made him, sitting now across from her seem all the more unusual as he took a bite of the sticky noodle, eyes lighting up with enjoyment as he thought about everything he had just learned, and what it meant.

    She had been a Jedi, and now was... something else? She had seemed almost insulted by the suggestion she was one the last time they'd discussed it. When they'd first met on Bespin - and what was he, for that matter? He'd been meant, at least if you asked the members of the Order, or Kyashi himself, to be a Sith. Darth Jirettai. There was still a pull toward that, always present and ever more so whenever he found his emotions getting the better of him - and wasn't that all too frequently these days.

    Stop me if you've heard this one before, a former Jedi and a Sith drop out sit down to share a meal...

    He gave his head a shake to clear the cobwebs even as he swallowed the second or third mouthful of noodles. He was losing track, had he already eaten half of it? Hadn't even touched the Dewback yet. He motioned the fork toward her a bit, edge taken off his hunger enough to at least focus properly again. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, a different knot filling his stomach than his hunger. There was so much unspoken between them, and so much he didn't know if he could say, or even should.

    She'd been kind to him, helped him when she didn't have to and seemed to be taking a genuine interest in his well-being. But he'd been through this routine before. A Twi'lek parlor in Coruscant's lower levels. A cafe on Corellia. A seedy bar on Bespin. The Sith Ruins on Korriban. Everyone seemed to have an offer for him, a place they thought he could fit. He found his lips tightening up even as he dropped the utensil to cut into the flank on his plate, instead of engaging in the conversation he wanted to have. His usual defense mechanisms kicking into place to wall himself off and divert the conversation away from anything that involved himself.

    "Padawan, huh. That had to be interesting."

  16. #56
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    "That's the nice way to put it," came the almost jovial response, as she cut her dewback slices into more manageable bites. The crust of Sullustan spices gave way to a juicy, meaty interior that leaked trace amounts of liquefied fat and blood in equal parts. Taking a small forkful, she disappeared the small chunk in short order, chewing while in the same motion leaning back. It was perfection; not overdone, and the flavors meandered throughout the texture of the meat with sublime perfection.

    "My old master from those days was a good man, but he had the unfortunate luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, at the end of it all. Of course, I suppose you could say that about a lot of the Jedi during the Purge."

    Another bite, thoughtful chewing, and she swallowed before going on.

    "I was at the temple, when Vader arrived with his clones. They killed everyone they saw, and I only survived through sheer luck."

    Next were the noodles, with that creamy, blue-tinged sauce. Lumps of feeder shrimp mingled throughout, and a forkful was dispatched with a quickness.

    "The Jedi were brought down by their own traditions and hubris though, which I never saw until long after it happened. Now days though, I'm much more happy to live my life in my current situation, and follow the orders given to me. I exist because my will was stronger than the Jedi, but I also know when to look at the bigger picture."

  17. #57
    Mike had listened, and taken the time that she was talking to eat all of one flank and dig heavily into the second, it was delicious - his stomach had been right. Hearing about the Jedi, about the Purge from someone who had actually been there was so different from the holofeeds and history lessons he'd experienced on Coruscant. The Empire painted the purge as a necessity to stop a traitorous army, but hearing it talked about... it sounded more like an extermination - a genocide.

    He shook his head a bit and leaned back.

    She was disillusioned. He could understand that, frell he could relate to it. On top of that the talk of the Jedi's collapse being their own traditions? Oh how he understood that. He'd stood on Korriban and shouted as much to Ezra when the Sith had tried to recruit him to his 'New Order' hadn't he? That resistance to change, to finding a different path - he shook his head and bit back a laugh as he leaned back in to the table.

    "Well, I'm glad to hear someone say that. So it's not just the Sith who are like..." He bit his lower lip instantly after the words left, cutting the sentence off. That was more than he'd meant to give away. Former Jedi or not it wasn't the sort of connection to himself he should be casually sharing - but he'd been so relieved to hear someone finally speak with some semblance of sanity he'd relaxed and opened up. He filled the space between them by returning to his noodles. Can't answer questions if his mouth was full, it would be rude.

  18. #58
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    She stopped chewing, and looked across the table at him from over the tops of her eyes. It was not entirely the sort of partial admission that she expected to hear, but heard it she did. Taking new stock of her companion, the Lupine watched him carefully, noting the attempt to return to his meal in the hopes of not having to further explain himself and his words.

    Finally, she swallowed, and dabbing the corner of her mouth with a serving towel, took a long, low inhale. She let it back out just as slowly, setting the towel back onto her lap.

    "I was once a Sith, as well."

    It was a calculated sentence, to try and draw him back out, and assuage any misgivings he might've had in confirming his past.

  19. #59
    Michael had been averting his eyes from her, looking at his plate, looking at the table, over at the floor and then she'd said that. His vision snapped back to her face instantly, searching for the lie he expected to find on it, brow narrowing as he examined her for deception.

    "Bantha piss." he chided almost accusatory. "Now you're just trying to tell me what you think I want to hear."

    Even as he said it he felt how empty the claim was. She wasn't showing any deception on her face and he wanted to believe her. He'd possibly found someone who may actually get it, may actually understand what he'd been through. Someone who wasn't so wrapped up in some ancient grudge match that they wanted everything confined to a hard line of black and white. He leaned back in, fingers lacing together to sit in front of him on the table as he felt his tongue run over the inside of his lips, which had gone dry.

    "Alright, let's say... for the sake of argument... that I believe you." He closed his eyes for a moment and forced out a long-held breath before opening them again to lock with hers - he wasn't going to look away through this. He wasn't going to break contact. If she was lying to him he'd know. If her emotions didn't give herself away, and she guarded them well, he'd be watching for anything else. A facial tic, a tone of voice, something. He needed to know she was telling him the truth.

    "How does one go from being a Jedi who fought in the Clone Wars to a Sith... or was it the other way around?" He hesitated for a moment, "And then go from that... to where you are now." Wherever it was she found herself, she didn't consider herself to be either of those things anymore and Michael needed to know why.

  20. #60
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    She sat utterly still, her own food forgotten in this moment; in this pure, raw moment. He was fully committed, and now so was she. Her own hands came to rest first on the table, palms feeling the cool surface for but a moment before pulling together, fingers winding around one another. Her chest rose slightly, then fell with the breath she'd taken in and subsequently released back out into the space between them.

    There was a look in her broken gaze - nothing accusatory or admonishing, but rather calm and thoughtful as she mulled over the best response.

    It was a question that she'd never been asked before, and one that she felt she'd not truly considered. In those quiet times during the dead of night, when she awoke with a sheen of cold sweat over her skin, she perhaps had had such considerations to answer such a query, but it'd never been put to her so plainly. Except... except for once, and it had been Cirr who'd asked of her the simple 'what happened'. And he'd had every right to know, and she had showed him. But that old ritual would perhaps not be best here, and she could well understand that a man such as Michael Cline would probably feel uncomfortable consenting to such a personal sharing that Cirr had.

    And so, she fell to words and honesty.

    "Love."

    Such a singular word. Moreso than greed and lust, love could be responsible for the most pure of heartbreak and terror.

    "After the Purge, I fell in love with a man."

    Her head dipped then, as she regarded her suddenly-unimportant plate of food.

    "It was wonderful, for the time that it lasted. I had never known such a beautiful emotion, and when I found it, I clung to it. Except, back then it was not enough, and that man left me. He was afraid, and despaired for the turn that the galaxy had taken, and for how insurmountable the Empire had become. He had been overcome by it all, and abandoned me."

    Again her gaze lifted, and she felt her body settle only slightly.

    "After him, there was another. A man who I had met, and he consoled me, and comforted me. At the time, he shared my grief, for I was led to believe that he had gone through the same heartbreak of losing someone that he loved."

    A single finger rubbed over one of her knuckles, as she recalled those early times.

    "We drew peace from one another, and were even married. We were together for so long, and he had never once turned me away or left me alone. At the time, he was my world."

    s'Il made a face then, a deep scowl that preceded the telling of much more unfortunate times.

    "Even after he lifted the mask, to show me who he really was, he was still my all. I did everything for him, for any scrap of affection that I could glean from him. I gave him children, I killed for him, I betrayed old friends for him."

    Her eyes bored into Michael, reaching across the divide between them.

    "Have you ever done something so despicable, in the name of something you thought was good?"

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