Another Toxic Junkyard [Hannibal]

[Lief]

​

The toxic city planet of Raxus Prime, another urbanised landscape of rust and decay... With so, so much potential! Junk lay littered and strewn around the undercity, it was like one giant durasteel playground - only so few people could see it as such that it was, in truth, a treasure trove of possibilities. Crashed ships, fried droids, odds and ends, none of which would be missed by its previous owner who had left it there a decade, a century... Even eras ago. A graveyard of mechanised constructs and former dreams.

But who was to say that it was now 'useless'?

It took all the control Kyra had to calmly descend the half-buried purpose-built slope, covered with shells and casings, long cables and fractured transparisteel. The child in her felt the urge to leap and, like some mad or feral mutt, find her place amongst the 'garbage'. The stench of oil and fuel was heavy in the air, a thick smog seeping around her ankles and even some similar clouds lingering a few feet overhead.

The buildings which pressed in around it pumped velvet plumes of purple and grey smoke through to the already choked atmosphere. Yet she felt alive in a city of broken and dead things. "C'mon, Kai... Surely amongst all of this someone misplaced a power cell..." It was a long shot, but ultimately she knew she would happen upon other things which caught her fancy. Such was always the case in wonderlands such as these.

@[member='Hannibal Oryen']

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Kyra Sol"]

Raxus Prime was never Hannibal's first choice of planets to visit. As if the stinking, fetid pollution and piles upon piles of toxic waste and broken electronics weren't enough to keep him away, the planet was also loaded with warring Rodian clans and marauding Jawa tribes. A constant threat for any enterprising scavenger. Hannibal was not here for scavenging, though. He had not actually chosen to come here. Hannibal could not presently recall why he had been hit over the head and buried in garbage on Raxus Prime. Even if he were presently conscious, the memories would have eluded him. Which would be very frustrating. One would think having a computer lodged in their head would prevent that kind of problem, but evidently not.

Hannibal awoke with a start to the sound of shifting garbage as someone descended towards his position. As was protocol when Hannibal woke up in strange places buried in refuse, he did not rise gracefully. Almost as soon as his eyes were open did he shoot up into a sitting position and scramble to his feet, flailing his arms and yelling incoherently, sending bits and bobs flying every which. It was a particularly awful ruckus. Thankfully whoever had left him here had left him his armor and general gear. Probably didn't want to go through the trouble of stripping him. It was never a good idea to run around naked on any planet, but the ones with hostile, pollution racked environments were bound to generate a much worse time.

His armor was ruddy, stained with crap, and he had the peculiar scent of toxic goo. But he was alive, and that was the important part.

 

[Lief]

[SIZE=10pt]She kicked up a few piles of junk, eyes scanning the ground with intense concentration. ClAnK! Bash! CrASh! The noise was earsplitting but musical all the same; it brought her an audible sense of bliss and satisfaction to hear the noisy nature of her trade. A smile was raised upon her lips as she scoured the initial site for the needle in her junk-stack. It doesn’t even have to be full she thought, with a mixture of exasperation and ecstasy coursing through her system. There’s sure to be a power source around here to… Borrow from, anyway. Yet even she knew it was a long shot. Pieces of spacecrafts littered the ground, broken wings and half a cockpit, consoles which hadn’t seen life in centuries… In some places there were even the pale-bone remains of a humanoid. It becomes more of a graveyard with each step. Droids, ships, people…[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Suddenly there was a ginormous ruckus nearby, bits and bobs flung in every direction as a man sat bolt upright. It took all of her control not to act alarmed, given the appearance came so shortly after discovering a discarded body. But she was Kyra Sol, and she was afraid of nothing… At least, that was the pretense she set up around herself. Something struck the base of her heavy boot, the metal plating which was at its front clanking against the container. Just my kind of luck she thought as a grin appeared upon her lips. Stooping down she took up the cylindrical power cell and pocketed it before the man could see. It was half empty, meaning it could have been part of the junkyard or possibly of the man’s own arsenal. She did not know, and truth be told she didn’t really care.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]What is a little petty thievery in a Galaxy full of murderous villains and Force-wielding lunatics? She doubted that it would be missed, even if it did belong to the being who had just arisen from the dirt. She was about to turn around and leave, she wasn’t one for socialising, but curiosity took over. “You stink like the inside of a Tauntaun” she casually remarked, knowing first hand just how gross a stench that was. “Or better yet a Strill.” So she had no desire to begin on a good footing, but if he wasn’t one for humour during a low point of his life then he clearly wasn’t worth investing time in anyway.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt][member="Hannibal Oryen"][/SIZE]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member='Kyra Sol']

Hannibal whirled around at the sound of a voice, jamming his right gauntlet towards her. He had a lot of equipment attached to those gauntlets of his, but it seemed as thought it was broken. Maybe that was why they hadn't taken anything. All his crap was broken, including his helmet. Hannibal could ponder how he ended up in a landfill after all his stuff was seemingly disabled, but that was for another day. This broad had just come out of nowhere and told him he smelled like a Tauntaun. It didn't so much hurt his feelings as it did inspire ire. Who wanted to be reminded they smelled bad?

Hannibal retracted his arm slowly, visor not leaving the dame as he tendered his response.

"Yeah, well, ya look like you'd smell like me on ya best day, honey."

He broke off his gaze to look around. Trash as far as he could see, which was admittedly not that far. There was too much trash in the way to see. Smog in the sky, taint in the air, ruddy looking scavenger chick. This had to be one really, really big landfill. In a galaxy where he could literally go to one of billions of planets on a relative whim, Hannibal had no intricate knowledge of planets with the largest landfills. He'd have to ask one of the locals where he was. The next logical step would be to add this planet to the list of places he never wanted to go to again. Then scrub his armor. Then shower. Then leave by whatever means necessary. But he was getting ahead of himself. Here was a local dame ripe for questioning.

"Why don't you's do me a solid an' tell me where the kark I am?"

 

[Lief]

If he thought his retort would catch her off guard, or better still upset her then he was sorely mistaken. Instead a quirky little smirk appeared upon her lips, unphased by the extended arm which he rather swiftly retracted from her direction. She watched as he drifted into a contemplative state, staring off into the distance, and figured it was time to begin the hunt again. Her eyes trailed over the ground, looking for anything of use to her endeavours. Part of her wanted to gobble it all up in the cargohold of the Tarnished Bucket but she knew that was a ridiculous notion. It would never fit. Instead she had to look for visibly useful odds and ends. At least 'til I can sort out a Junkyard of my own. Now that would be a sight for sore eyes and a beauty to behold all in one.

"Well, 'least I don't have a broken bucket on my head" she added, with a small shrug of her shoulders. "Might want that visor seen to."

Leaning down she brushed aside a large sheet of duraplast and narrowed her eyes. "Wonder what I can do with this..." she mused aloud, picking up the twisted piece of junk. What it once was no longer mattered, at least not to Kyra. She pocketed it and rose back up, staring up at the man. "Man, someone had a little too much Mand'lorian Whiskey last night... You're on Raxus Prime." There was little use in lying to him, after all, she had work to be done. The power cell was a welcome find, but that didn't mean she was ready to turn away and head back to the ship. Not just yet.

[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member='Kyra Sol']

What a cheeky little broad she was. Hannibal wiped away some lingering grease that stuck to his visor and clouded his vision, revealing a distracting crack. He could fix that. Probably. Without his helmet's usual air-filtration system to safeguard him, the stench was starting to get a rise out of Hannibal. He had to get out of here quickly. This probably wouldn't be easy given the mounds of trash, the horrendous smell, or the fact that Hannibal's whole body was starting to feel pretty sore. Maybe it was sleeping in trash, or maybe he really did get beaten up that badly.

He watched her shift around in the garbage, coming up with a sheet of one material or another. At least he was right about her being a scavenger. She probably preferred the term salvager or something. They usually did. It sounded a lot less dirty, criminal, and craven. It also didn't evoke an image of carrion birds either. She informed him rather plainly that he was on Raxus Prime, a planet that Hannibal had not heard of until right this moment. Evidently it had a lot of landfills. He could learn more about it after he was done mucking around here.

"Never 'eard of it. Now, how's I get outta this damn landfill?"

 

[Lief]

He was watching her, probably thinking himself above her due to her scavenging ways... Not that she really cared. He could think what he wanted, it mattered none to Kyra. She was about to upsticks and leave, after all there was a heck of a lot more of this planet to explore and not much of the day remaining, when the beast from the trash spoke again. Just great.

"If you ain't heard of it then you must've had plugs stuffed in them ears of yours and your eyes gauged out.. Or somethin'." Raxus wasn't the most commonly spoken of planets, sure, but it wasn't a blot on the edge of the Galaxy either. Rolling her eyes she turned to face him. "I can show you out, but it'll cost you some 'a that broken junk you got hanging about your person. You're probably just gonna toss it in the trash anyway, wouldn't count on you to know how to handle junk the way I do."

Crossing her arms she watched the broken sod; he'd be trapped here for quiiiteee a while if she didn't help him, everywhere looked the same in this sea of trash.

[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member='Kyra Sol']

"Hey!" Hannibal narrowed his eyes, though any evidence of it was lost behind his mask. "I can fix my own crap, thank ya's very much."

Hannibal had a freaking PhD in Droid Engineering. He knew his stuff. Not only that, but he was a cyborg! Any half-decent cyborg ought to know how to repair their own stuff in a pinch. Otherwise they were just a special kind of lame. Anyone who was going to replace a few parts of their being with metal and circuitry ought to know how to fix up some metal and circuitry. It was common sense as far as Hannibal could ever be concerned.

Speaking of common sense, this sassy chick, standing there with her arms folded and a smug look on her face, was probably his best bet on getting out of here. Acknowledging this, it seemed that Hannibal would have to part with something. His jetpack seemed a likely candidate. The thing was prone to breaking anyway, and he already had several others as spares.

"Fine, fine. 'ere ya go, sugartits."

He shrugged the thing off, it landing in the refuse with a useless clump. he picked it up by the handle and proceeded to lug it over to the broad. Tribute for safe passage through an industrial hellscape. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

 

[Lief]

She raised a brow: she didn't doubt that he could nor had she claimed as much. She simply doubted that he would. He seemed like a rich boy, and richies rarely had time to sit down and pour some well earned time into fixing something they probably had duplicates of.

Besides, he likely had the money to have a better version made anyway.

"Someone's all touchy again, might wanna see'a shrink about that. And a doctor for your memory loss, bumped your head a little hard? Wouldn't wanna go to sleep tonight if I were you, never know what'll happen... Might end up in the trash again. Speaking of which, what's the deal with that? Wife toss you out or somethin'?"

When he shrugged out of the jetpack and dragged it to her she couldn't help but stare at it. What can I do with that? She supposed she could always fix it up - sell it on or make good use of it. Scrap was scrap, she'd find a use for it. Seemed heavy though.

"Alright, let's go, Strill."

Walking from him she hefted the heavy jetpack up and did her best to support it. Man was it heavy. "You secretly a bantha or somethin'? Thing weighs a tonne." Not that she was complaining. She set off due east from their current location, through the sea of poodoo which littered the landscape.

[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member='Kyra Sol']

It wasn't enough that Hannibal woke up in a junk pile with most of his equipment gone or broken. It wasn't enough that he was sore, bruised, and amnesic. It wasn't enough that he had to fork over his jetpack to this broad- she had to keep egging him about it. She just wasn't letting up. It didn't help that she was the only other person on his scrapheap planet that he knew of. Whatever. He had been through worse, dealt with worse people. At least she was helping him.

"Jeez, lady." Hannibal said mirthlessly. "Mouth like that, it ain't a wonder ya out 'ere alone. An' even if I did reca'lect how inna hells I got 'ere, I ain't s'actly in the disposition t' share it."

She hefted the jetpack up, trying to support it best as she could. That was cute. There came a contemptuous snort as she mentioned the weight. "'Course it weighs a ton. It's a jetpack. Try wearin' it on ya back like a normal person, dingus."

Hannibal was less interested in verbally sparring with this woman and more interested in the prospect of locating someplace he could get a hot shower and find a laundromat. However, it was going to be a long walk. Probably even longer until he got either of those two things. If this was all he had to pass the time, then this would do fine.

 

[Lief]

"Yeah, yeah, yeah" she muttered, grumbling under her breath. Halting for a brief second she threw the jetpack onto her back as seemed to be expected and turned a glare across to Hannibal. "Ever thought I might want to be 'lone out here, Strill?" With a heavy sigh she skipped on ahead away from him, not too far but just enough to make her point. Sort of. Okay so maybe she was being childish, but it didn't really matter to her. "You're the one disturbing the peace an' my hunting time. Sheesh."

But her words had taken on a bit more of a playful tone towards the end. It was true that she enjoyed time alone but all the same some company was welcome... sometimes. At least this guy was somewhat humerus, although she doubted he would see it in such a way. Poor guy probably just wanted to settle his head down for a few hours, and she didn't blame him. "So..." she said, figuring they'd be walking for a while. "You some kind'a bounty hunter?"

[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member='Kyra Sol']

Ooh, checkmate. He got under her skin with that one, he could tell. One little victory for all that trash talk from earlier. Hannibal imagined himself taking a victory lap, pumping his fist triumphantly as he ran past the imaginary crowd. "The kick is good! The kick is good!" The officiators howl. This was all very pedantic and Hannibal snapped back to reality when she started gaining distance on him. Pretty fast for someone with a big 'ol jetpack strapped to them.

She mentioned how he was the ruckus. He scoffed. "Pffft. You's the one who woke me up. Causin' a commotion like ya did."

"An' yeah, I'mma hunter. Mercenary, ne'er-do-well. 'at kinda thing."

As usual, Hannibal left out the part where he was also the lead designer for the droids manufactured by Cestus Cybernetics. That was totally unimportant anyway and not something he generally wanted people to know about. It sort of clashed with his projected image of an uncouth, unsophisticated bounty hunter. That was the image he wanted to cultivate these days.

"So, what? You live 'ere 'a somethin'? Just visitin'?" Hannibal ventured, figuring the question game required at least two players.

 

[Lief]

She muttered something under her breath, akin to "well you could'a died if you stayed under that junk" but it was too mumbled to be 100% discernible. "I used to be like you" she said, although that wasn't entirely true. The men who had stolen her away were, she was just a ... Well, she didn't really know what. A play thing? A runt to do all the menial tasks? Something to train and hope they'd be completely loyal? Quite the shock that incident of hers had given them, ha, it had served them right.

But at the same time they were all that had kept her alive.

"Livin' here? Out in this cesspit? No thank you! I'm only here for a while longer. Could give you a ride off-world if you needed, I got no real agenda or the like - wherever you needed to go and that. I'm pretty flexible. 'sides, I feel a little bad 'bout your circumstances and all."

[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member='Kyra Sol']

"Oh, really? I hadn't pegged ya for the soldierin' type. Where'd ya work outta? Maybe we shot at eachother." Hannibal replied jokingly.

There had been that one time on Annaj he ran into someone who had been working against him on... What was it, Korriban? It didn't really matter. Guy overheard Hannibal talking about it and when ballistic. Bar fight ensued. Nothing pretty. At least one explosion if Hannibal remembered correctly. Or maybe that was the time on Seltos. Hannibal had since learned to keep his stories and anecdotes vague and their locations unspecified. Never knew who was listening.

Hannibal was skeptical of that offer for a free ride. He was often skeptical of charity work. Who helped people out for no reason? Didn't make any sense. She was probably looking for money or something. Maybe knock him out and sell his organs on the black market. Despite his cynicism, he pressed on. It wasn't as though he had better options. Besides, he had a killer robot arm that could punch through durasteel. He had no concerns for his security.

"Gee, you'd do that for 'ittle ol' me? You's a saint, truly." If he really was all that suspicious, it didn't show in his tone. "What's ya name, toots?"

 

[Lief]

"Nah you misunderstand me, it was more space stuff. Nothin' nearly as ace as a battleground." Okay so it was piracy which had more often than not led to a skirmish and a fight... But he didn't need to know that. Besides, none of that had been her choice. She just liked to build stuff from junk and more stuff. This strill-stinking son of a hutt wasn't as bad as she first thought, though, she had to give him that. Almost made her feel bad for taking the jetpack from him. Almost.

Speaking of which, the thing really did weigh a tonne. Ah well, she'd get used to that. "Ay', I'm certain." It wasn't every day she invited someone onboard the 'Bucket. "Just don't laugh at her, a'ite? She may look like she's about to fall apart but it's part'a her charm, she's as smooth as an umbaran's head, she is. Real neat, never done me wrong yet." She was talking about the ship of course, but he wouldn't know that. Eh, he could infer it she supposed.

"I'm Kyra, but just call me Kai, alright? What about you, or do I just call'ya Strill?" She gave him a half smile as they pressed on up through the junk. The end was nigh on their little, dirty adventure. But the toxic fumes would reside across much of the industrial planet.

[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member='Kyra Sol']

Hannibal had never met an Umbaran before. At least, not to his knowledge. He presumed a vast majority of them were bald if that analogy were to be somewhat accurate. Hannibal wasn't hung up on that, though. A mercenary who did space stuff? That sounded a lot like a privateer to him; a much more polite word for pirate. That was cool. Pirating was a terrifying business. Flying through space, getting chased by government vessels of a ridiculously large size, boarding and fighting in close quarters all the time. Then there was that constant threat of being disintegrated by turbolaser fire.

Only the most intense of things.

"Oh, so you's was a pirate 'a something. Cool stuff, ace." Hannibal commented. "I done my fair share 'a pilferin', so I can respect that. 'sides, whatever ya flyin', mine's probably uglier."

As if a mercenary who had once robbed a bank and tried to abduct a hyperspace wizard was going to pass judgement on a pirate. This was also a mercenary who flew a KR-TB Doomtreader, a ship that was not known for its beauty or maneuverability. But he liked it, because only a soft-ass mercenary could fly anything that wasn't a freaking treader of doom.

"Kai. Got it. I'm Hannibal Oryen."

 

[Lief]

Not by choice. But she kept that little snippet of her life to herself. "Something like that, aye" she admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. "And this ain't no competition, Strill -- sorry, Hannibal. Neat name y'got there." Hopefully this one wasn't a cannibal also or there would be some serious issues and rules on personal space aboard the 'Bucket to put it lightly.

"So, you really never been to Raxus before?" perking a brow she seemed somewhat amused by this as she ventured further up the mound of crap in order to lead him out of the junkyard. "Ain't too far from the spaceport now, keep up or you'll be lost!"

Her pace picked up as she wove between the increasing mass of bodies which seemed to swam around the industrialised city-scape, grime covering their bodies. "Eh, as bad as you look 'an smell, be grateful y'ain't them after a long day in the Factories" she said, offering yet another shrug. All that grime and the abhorrent stench was enough to make anyone recoil.

[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member='Kyra Sol']

"Gee, thanks." Hannibal said. No one had really ever complimented his name before, but more than an ample amount of bar-fights had been started over it. Most of which Hannibal won.

He scrambled up the mound after her. It was a clumsy affair, as his limbs were all varying degrees of numb, sore, or not as responsive as they ought to be. Several times he slid a couple feet down the trash heap, but eventually he clambored to the top. This entire planet was annoying. Disgusting, frustrating, polluted to all hell. Who the hell came here willingly?

"No, I ain't ever been 'ere, an' from th' looks 'a this place," Hannibal replied as he tried to keep pace with Kyra, having to shove aside some meandering factory slaves, "I ain't comin' back under usual circumstances."

All these people smelled the absolute worse any person could ever hope to smell. The stench assaulted his nose like Imperials assaulted orphanages or something. He could feel the delicate chemoreceptors in his nose crying out in anguish before bursting into flames. Now, more than anything else in the galaxy, Hannibal just wanted a constant stream of hot water and at least a gallon of industrial strength soap.

And also a furnace to burn his clothes in, naturally.

In the nasally voice of a man with a stuffed nose, Hannibal replied. "I'll remember t' count my blessin's once I'm off 'a this planet."