The Falcon's Cage

[Ben Merasska]

Ben looked at her for a long moment, not saying a word, before nodding and standing. He stretched, and made his way to the cockpit ladder.

"Let's just hope that this turns out well. Better'n the Blue Milk Run at least."

He grimaced and wrinkled his nose.

"Gah, I can smell it again! I'm gonna wash up before food."

He clambered down the access, grumbling to himself indistinctly.

[Cerie Moreau]

* * *

The galley had thankfully been recently restocked, which made trying to come up with something for dinner a little bit easier than those times that they'd pushed their stocks until there was nothing but dried gejji noodles, dehydrated namana berries, and a few cans of tip-yip stock left.

Not this evening, however.

This evening, she had actual ingredients.

The hot plate had been set out on a counter, and a kingwood cutting board pulled out. A knife followed, as well as two smallish prep bowls. A pot had been set on the hotplate, and currently held a few measures of field-rice cooking in water. Salt and a pat of butter had been dropped into the pot as well, for flavoring (she used her own credits to purchase the b utter, declaring it a necessary staple).

From the cooler unit, Cerie pulled a pack of nuna thighs, and tearing it open, began to pull each thigh out before beginning the process of removing the skin and deboning each one. She had her methods and reasons for wanting the cheaper cuts - it gave more cooking ingredients, since she could save the bones and the skins for future meals.

Not really paying attention to anything but her task at hand, the blonde paid little attention to her surroundings and who might be starting to populate the galley.

[Shuvin Undhi]

Ben had trudged by earlier, grumbling to himself. It happened often, but not as often as she and Cerie liked to say it did. He'd passed by the entrance to galley, sniffing himself and wincing.

She'd gone back to the reactor to check on the cooling systems, as some of the pumps were getting old and less efficient. Nothing to worry about for the moment, but when it was a crucial system in a ship that kept you alive in the cold vast void of space, "worry" was a relative term, and a loss of efficiency could turn deadly in seconds. It was a wonder then that because space travel was so ubiquitous and starships had millennia to work out the process for stable flight and travel, that issues such as this really didn't worry her or most others who flew in starships regularly or as part of their occupation.

She only drifted out of the central reactor when she heard the tell tale sounds of someone working in the galley. A quick glance confirmed it was Cerie, and... oh stars, nuna thighs.

"You planning on using those bones? Might make a stew later if there's enough to make a good broth with. Think there's still some tubers too."

[Cerie Moreau]

A knowing grin was sent to Shuvin as Cerie continued to slice through tendons and meat, careful to not cut the fingers that were at the same time pulling at the bones to help separate the two from each other.

That's exactly why I'm wanting to save them," she answered. Sometimes, it was nice when two stomachs reached a consensus on what to do with extras and leftovers.

"Could you grab me a little bag? We can put the bones inside and then throw them into the icebox for when we want to make some stock."

Without skipping a beat, she finished removing the bone from the thigh. Setting the both of them aside, she moved on to the next, repeating the process.

"I figured I'd make nuna and creamy rice for dinner. My uncle used to make it a lot, and it was always my favorite."

[Shuvin Undhi]

"On it!" she chirped, pulling the handle of one of the tiny cupboards out and twisting. The handle refused to turn; she frowned and pushed the door in slightly, and felt the handle engage. The cupboard was full, with small food containers (all metal, as it could be blasted clean with heat, saving water), aluminite bags (resealable! a little more expensive, but worth it), and tiny cans of cleaning agent. She pulled out a large aluminite bag and started dropping the nuna bones inside, restraining herself from cracking one open and sucking on the marrow like a treat.

"Your uncle?" Shuvin hummed, her smile dimming slightly. Memories of Nogolis and Uncle Neesh weren't fresh, but no one really forgets having someone die in front of you like that. She glanced at Cerie, trying to gauge her mood and if asking questions about family was prying a bit too deeply. Shuvin figured that since Cerie'd brought it up, keeping it going wouldn't be too bad.

"Y'know, I know everyone comes from somewhere, but I don't really picture their origins," she started. "For some reason, hearin' that you have an uncle was a bit of a surprise, kinda like I'd thought you'd popped out of space fully grown and with a beer in your hand."

[Cerie Moreau]

It was a somewhat surprising thing to hear, but after a half-moment's thought, Cerie supposed that it was a fair notion. And not a little bit funny the more she considered it. And so, she smiled while continuing to work.

"Oh, well, as much as I wish I did show up in this galaxy fully formed, sad to say that that wasn't the case."

She passed along another bone, and Shuvin made quick work of putting it into the bag.

"But yeah, I had an uncle. He took me in after my parents died." She was on the second-to-last thigh now, and started in with her knife.

"For a while things were great. He even threw me a little birthday party when I turned seven. Made me a spice cake, with fancy frosting and namana berries. That's when he gave me my first drawing book, and some oil coloring sticks."

[Shuvin Undhi]

For all she'd said she couldn't picture Cerie's origins, the image of a Little Cerie was all too ready to fill her head in vivid detail. Probably not as jaded, but there's no way that "are you stupid?" look didn't come from those days of bein' told outlandish things by her uncle and not really knowing enough to say if they were wrong or not. She probably drew with her tongue sticking out.

Shuvin managed to keep from guffawing at the mental image of Cerie studiously drawing with an oil stick and her tongue sticking out. Barely.

"That sounds nice," she said, smiling at the jumble of imaginings she'd conjured from Cerie's little two breath story. "Knowin' me as a child, I'd still have been ungrateful and complained 'bout something. O' course, while it feels far off, I know that old me ain't as far off in the past as I remember."

[Cerie Moreau]

Even despite Shuvin's admission that her childhood wasn't that far back, Cerie was still curious. Memories, not matter how old, were still sometimes lovely things. it was those lovely times with her uncle that she clung to. The man that he'd once been, and not the man he became. She had to wonder if Shuvin hid the bad times behind the good ones, just as she did.

Pausing for a moment in her deboning, the blonde leaned against the counter, her knife lowering.

"What was your favorite birthday like?

[Shuvin Undhi]

"Oh, that's easy," the Togruta said lightly, a cheery smile on her face. "First one on Alderaan, right after Ben bought her. And me."

She didn't look at Cerie, but was pretty sure the woman had stopped and was looking at her. She shrugged, stuffing another couple bones into the aluminite bag.

"Don't really remember ever celebrating my birthday. Don't rightly know when exactly I was born. I think it was in the summer, though. I remember Ma and Vah tellin' me one summer: 'you're gettin' on ten, so be careful around them boys in the port, or you might get stolen!'"

She affected an odd accent, obviously aping what she remembered her parents' accents to be.

"And while some folks celebrate their slaves' birthdays, 'least I know of a few that were in good enough with their owners to have them throw little parties, ain't none of mine were that type. After Ben bought me with ol' girl," she patted the countertop, smiling fondly, "even if I were of a mind to start celebrating, I wouldn't even know where to start. Hard to track seasons in space, goin' from planet to planet."

Shuvin glanced over curiously.

"That all the nuna? These bones are smellin' mighty fine right now and I don't know how long I can hold back from snacking on one."

[Cerie Moreau]

The similarities between herself and Shuvin were disturbingly similar, but Cerie was pulled from her more inner thoughts at the Togruta's question.

"Just about, gotta finish this last one."

Spoken, of course, as she pulled the bone from the meat with a quick jerk. It was dropped into the bag with little fanfare, and the blonde rolled her shoulders as she gestured for Shuvin to close up the bag before any raw marrow sucking could begin.

Giving herself a moment to pull out a clear Plastex baking dish, she situated the nuna thighs inside, then added another few pats of butter along with a liberal sprinkling of salt and pepper. A can of cream-of-nuna soup was opened, and she spooned out half of the can into the dish, smothering the thighs. The oven pinged, and with a practiced motion Cerie popped the entire thing inside, closing up the door with a quickness.

"I was sold too, after that last birthday," she finally mumbled out, leaning over to open up the icebox so that Shuvin could put in the bone bag.

"My uncle... my uncle, he sold me off. He knew I could make good art, and I guess that... well, he knew I could do the sort of work that some wanted."

Cerie felt a sudden kinship with Shuvin in that moment.

"He had debts, and I was his ticket out of those."

[Shuvin Undhi]

There are times when you see someone, and you want to help them. You want to say something, do something, to ease their pain. At least a little bit, right? But, what do you say? What do you do? Sometimes it's too late, and whatever you say or do won't actually solve the problem, or really do anything to help them at all.

Shuvin knew that mindset, as that was Ben. She knew what he would say in this situation: 'Sometimes, the galaxy can be an ugly place.' He never prodded, or pushed, because he held his pain dear and close to his heart; his instinctual reaction would be that everyone else does the same thing. It was his, and theirs was theirs. He'd just acknowledge it and let it lie there.

That wasn't her, though. She was much more like Palara than even she would like to admit, with a callousness and disregard for others that didn't say anything good about her. She didn't think she was a horrible person, though. Just, you know, flaws. Everyone has them. But, in this case, she liked Cerie. And it was clear that while Cerie wasn'theld up or stunted by that experience (like Ben was with the destruction of Alderaan), it was still something that caused her pain, that lingered.

Shuvin wondered if her parents ever thought of her like that. But she'd gone 'round to the beginning again: what do you say or do in the face of such pain? Should she share in her own experience, trying to show Cerie that she was able to commiserate?

"Do you think he actually loved you, or was just bidin' his time until you were old enough?" she finally asked. "Ah, you don't have to answer if you don't want to. Sorry I asked. Don't think before I speak sometimes."

[Cerie Moreau]

Rinsing her hands in the sink, Cerie furrowed her brow in thought at Shuvin's last question. It was something she'd thought about on and off herself, but hadn't ever really been able to fully answer.

A dish towel was pulled from where it lay draped on the cooler unit's handle, and the blonde dried her hands.

"It's ok, honest. I think about that a lot, but I haven't ever really been able to figure it out myself."

A smile, and she tossed the towel to her Togruta friend.

"I'll let you know if I ever do sort it out, though."

Reaching for a wooden spoon, Cerie gave the still-cooking rice a little stir.

"You know, out of curiosity, when is your birthday?"

[Shuvin Undhi]

Shuvin took a deep breath and hummed in thought.

"Uncle Neesh would've known," she said, a slight nostalgic tone to her voice. "Never got 'round to asking him though. If I had to guess, though, I'd say sometime in early summer. On Syragor the seasons are usually punctuated by rain rather than cold and snow, 'less you're on a range high enough. Somewhere between late spring—170 maybe—and midsummer. 255, 260? I'm pretty sure I'm round 17 years, so maybe 6 or 5.200 before Yavin?"

She frowned in thought and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly; her face however was uncharacteristically closed off.

"Like I said, I'm not sure when exactly. Doesn't really matter to me either. Even if I did know, I think the day Ben bought me and let me sign the freedom certificate in the notary's office when he got Alderaan is more important. I don't remember birthday celebrations, but I remember how Ben took me to get something to eat after. That nerf veal flatbread was wrapped in a green plaspaper. The zeekee sauce kept dripping over my fingers and making them sticky. Ned wiped my mouth a couple times with this little rag she carried in her jacket. I've talked about Ned before, haven't I? I know Ben don't. He feels guilty."

Halfway through her monologue, her face brightened to its usual cheer. She sprayed and wiped down the countertop with a mostly clean rag as she talked, her voice clear and precise throughout. She glanced up and looked at the empty entryway to the galley and ring corridor. She could hear the water flowing through the piping and the recycler-pumps humming and clacking in one of the maintenance rooms. Ben wouldn't be out any time soon, by her estimation, though she wasn't sure about those Cizerack aunties.

[Cerie Moreau]

"I think you have," she answered after a short moment of thought.

Satisfied that the rice was well on its way to cooking through, Cerie idly wondered if she should buy them all a rice cooker for Life Day; it would certainly help to make dinner duty easier, she figured.

Following Shuvin's line of sight, she came to mostly the same unspoken conclusion as her younger friend, and taking a short pause in galley-work, leaned against the counter.

"You know, we should do something special while were planetside. Any ideas?"

[Shuvin Undhi]

"You mean, aside from abusing the fact that I can legally drink there and just enjoying a tropical vacation?" Shuvin smiled brightly. "And aside from helping out Mr Imperial with his love life?"

She raised a hand in a conciliatory gesture.

"I ain't teasing, Cerie. I can see why you feel a connection with him. You two have a real connection, and honestly it don't look like a torrid passionate romance sort of connection either.Let's see what they've got. I did a bit research earlier, did you know they have huge birds that you can ride like an eopie? some of them even fly with you on them! That sounds like a time right there."

[Cerie Moreau]

"That sounds like a broken neck," she laughed.

It was a convenient deflection from her friends' previous words, about what was going on with Vance. Cerie wasn't ready to admit it herself, and she felt more than a little awkward by how easily her Togruta companion had read things. In her mind it only meant that she wasn't as good at hiding some things as she thought she was.

How about," the blonde allowed herself to lean on the counter, her eyes cast at Shuvin, "... we start with the food."

A conspiratorial grin.

"I bet they have all the best stuff in that fancy rich-person kitchen."

[Shuvin Undhi]

Shuvin's eyes were glassy and unfocused; a dopey grin had planted itself on her lips and mouth, a small slight glint of teeth showing.

"Cerie, I just pictured heaven," the teenager sighed. "With loaded larders, packed pantries, bulging breadbaskets, and studs in naked aprons and those weird tall white hats. Oh mama, lemme git a handful of that..."

She wiped some drool from her mouth. Both the smell of the nuna bake and the mental image of sculpted, lean, and cute beefcakes with taut firm buttocks wearing nothing but aprons had the Togruta girl salivating and all clenching nice and deep inside; though she could say that she'd never had her stomach and what felt like her ovaries do a hungry tumble inside her at the same time. Pretty weird feeling, if she was being honest. Not sure if she enjoyed it or not. Say what you will about the Cizerack, but those women had some imaginations girl. She'd never have thought of a naked apron in her entire life most likely if not for that one sweet moment on Syragor while attending to Feerreii's drink order. That Devaronian was a literal giant hunk of beef.

Pulling herself from the fantasy and her admittedly scattered musings, Shuvin let out a deep breath. She was doing the Togruta version of a heavy blush, that was for sure, but Cerie was pretty familiar with her by now, and Shuvin wasn't very ashamed of where her mind went.

[Cerie Moreau]

Cerie grinned as she watched Shuvin, and with a little head-bobble as she pushed away from the counter she was leaning against the scoop up two oven mitts, the blonde finally pulled her attentions back to the task at hand. The oven door was opened, and she bent over to quickly pull the Plastex dish out and set it on the oven top.

The nuna was already sizzling, and the smothered cream-of-nuna soup was bubbling just like how she remembered it from so long ago in her youth.

The mitts were quickly put on the counter behind her, and she swiveled back with a spatula.

"You know, I bet we could find a way to get some good stuff stocked while we're there," she mused, running the silicone utensil over the thighs and smearing the condensed concoction further over and around. There was a slight hissing as she worked, which really only made her more hungry.

"I know that if I was going to make a wishlist, I'd put some aged ronto steaks at the top."

[Shuvin Undhi]

"I'm not quite sure there's a lot of ronto steak to go 'round down there," Shuvin replied, sidling up to Cerie and sniffing loudly. "Oh stars Cerie that smells good."

Shuvin watched the food as a child would, with curiosity and wonder and desire. It looked like there wasn't a thought in her head but the sizzle of the nuna cream on the nuna meat.

"Well, we have the space for it, I reckon," the Togruta girl's eyes followed Cerie's spatula unerringly. "Food storage ain't designed for unprocessed or unpackaged food though. And as much as I love to eat it, I'd rather not be smellin' fish throughout the entire ship for months if we try to do fresh frozen unsealed packing. They have to export some of their food aside from the red nectar. Maybe there's a packing plant or something we can use. We'd have to ask Ben about the finances though. And pick Mr Dashing Imperial Pants' brains for food options."

[Cerie Moreau]

"Well, the ronto steaks are wish-list fodder. I'm pretty sure we could get some dried preserved foods at the very least, that will keep in the pantry for long enough."

Finishing up with her smearing, she handed the spatula to Shuvin, then took up the oven mitts once more. The Plastex dish was once again slid into the oven, and Cerie closed it back up with a satisfying cla-dunk. The scents left over still permeated the galley, and the blonde gave a wink to her Togruta friend.

"Not to mention, I bet some of the folks who aren't so well off as the upperclass will have some tips and tricks for keeping their food. We could probably get some pointers for storing some of the food on Ayolco."

A pause, as she thought more on that prospect.

"You know, I bet we could get some good recipes from them, while we're at it."