Private Brakes | Frea

[Taysonyl Callenid]

Frea Sheplin

"Really thought I had you there."
​

Tay opened the door to the bar and walked inside. "That turn on 65th, though, that was a kriffin' wicked move. Dipping at that angle -- you're crazy, Cheerleader. Wish I had your bike."

This time it really had been close; Tay had kept pace until the final leg of the race. They'd soundly beaten everyone else, of course. She'd modded her bike herself. Built it almost from scratch. Afterburner, TibannaX, the whole deal. Still, wasn't enough to beat Frea tonight. If they were flying the same rig, Tay thought, she'd beat Frea every time.

She didn't mind losing tonight though. They'd changed the track up a bit. That was why she found street racing so much more fun, among other things -- the track was the Undercity's speeder lanes. So much variety, so much danger, so much speed. Tay loved it. Plus, the winner's pot was pretty sweet.

As usual, the pair went on down to the Double-Crossing Nexu after the race. Seedy pub, surprisingly nice patrons, good prices. Best on the megablock. She walked over, sidling into her usual seat at the bar.

"Why do we do this, again?" Tay shifted, looking at the other pilot. "You won, you got the money. Why do I need to pay your tab?" They often had this conversation.

She sighed. "Just don't get anything expensive. Please. You know how broke I am."

 

[Frea Sheplin]

Taysonyl Callenid

The key to success in the racing scene was to never hesitate. Live fast, die young, that’s what the great ones did well and Frea had well and truly accepted this. The drop she pulled on sixty-fifth street was a maneuver she had picked up as a teenager out of Atrisia. Not that Atrisia was home, but when you dad was ex-military there had hardly ever been the time to truly settle down anywhere. Frea was a bit of a galactic citizen, and she was okay with that.

She gave Tay a wave of her hand, “It’s all about getting the technique in, Bitterscotch.”

As they stepped into the bar it felt as though the adrenaline was finally on its way out of her system, cheeks flush with the blood that had risen to her head just a few minutes earlier. The clean-up for the arrangers had now begun and the bribes had been sent out. In reality Frea had been reprimanded for this behaviour once before, but sometimes it was just hard to stay away from the things you loved.

“Didn’t take you for the unobservant kind, Tay-Tay.” the ‘Cheerleader’ laughed. “I keep telling you everytime we do this. The entire point of this part is to smooth over the ruffled feathers with the cheapest, most inbred jug of moonshine we can find in this joint.”

With that Frea turned back towards the droid servitor and held up two fingers. Attention back on her squadmate.

“Can you imagine the day we get to pull that kriff on a star destroyer though? Or dodge our way through the trenches of a planetary weapon to just like the legends of the past?” Frea’s eyes positively shone as she spoke, her hands moving along as if to prove the point with a set of practiced movements. Eventually they stopped and she let in a deep breath to calm herself down. “I can’t wait.”

 

[Taysonyl Callenid]

Frea Sheplin
​

Tay frowned. As badly as she wanted to know how to do that little trick, she kept her mouth shut. It wasn't fun, not being in the know, but she couldn't ask. A momentary sneer came across her face before she shook it away. Last time she hadn't asked, her X-wing had hit the dirt. Hard. And it'd hurt. A lot.

"You already know I hate your voice," she joked. "I'm a shit listener."

The pilot shook her head. "And I don't have feathers."

Said most cheap, most inbred moonshine soon arrived in a tall pint glass a few moments later. Tay scooped hers up, raising it for a little love tap against Frea's. "Good race," she said, before throwing it back. "I'll beat you next time, though."

Sure, they weren't long on Coruscant and probably wouldn't race here again. But she didn't doubt there'd be a day they'd hop on their bikes and duke it out again. She couldn't wait.

On that note- "You have no idea. Weapons hot, running in someplace... don't even care where. I'm ready to blow shit up."

She raised her glass to her lips again, before pausing and glancing at Frea. "Whaddya mean 'legends of the past'?"

 

[Frea Sheplin]

Taysonyl Callenid

There was a great measure of mock offense at the Firrerro’s retort. Frea’s hand placed itself square on her chest, her jaw forcing her lips wide open for a bit, her eyes peeled open before she settled into a pucked, outright insulting mockery of a pout.

“To our friendship.” Frea corrected Tay before she threw her drink down her throat, the drink which was doing its utmost to reject it as she pushed through the pain and misery. A slight cough burst through her nose as she hunched over the table before sitting back up again. The room had already started to spin. “Now, if that didn’t do the damn trick… I ain’t sure what will.”

She laughed and slowly grabbed a hold of her chin to stabilize herself again, find her surroundings. It always took the edge off of things, killed those post-race jitters real quick. Now it was all about maintaining the high as opposed to merely seeking it.

“Skywalker, man.” Frea proclaimed with no small amount of adoration. “The Death Star, all that noise. The legend himself and the legends that followed him into those trenches. Like, sure, they all pretty much died but isn’t that always a risk with what we are getting ourselves into?”

“That- that rush of total freedom, to really feel your muscles tense as you dodge turbolasers and unpredictable debris fields. To stare death in the fairken eyes and tell it to fairk off.”

“I feel like that is what binds us together, you and I.” Frea said and extended a hand to place on Tay’s shoulder. “We live together, we die together.”

“But until that day it’s Vanguard for life, man.”

 

[Taysonyl Callenid]

Frea Sheplin
​

Tay's cheeks tingled, her throat burned, and she drained the rest of that most vile drink before turning to Frea and grinning. Friendship tasted as bitter as the Bitterscotch herself. But Tay didn't mind at all. The other girl was probably as close as she'd gotten with the other academy pilots and by far the most similar. Frea was really just a bigger, slightly better version of the young Firrerreo. Few inches, bit better in the pit, but their souls were bound together by something stronger.

Stupidity and recklessness. "Another round," she called to the server droid. A glance back at Sheplin; a grimace from the drink. "Feathers, smoothed."

Their glasses were filled just as Frea finished about trenches and turbolasers and Skywalker. Tay wasn't much of a history buff. It didn't really matter to her, but maybe she'd try and learn, see if Frea's fangirling was warranted. Vanguard-3 returned the arm on the shoulder, pulling the other girl a little closer.

"Ah, I'll bet I kick the bucket before you do." An odd thing to bet on. Probably wouldn't matter either way if one of them ended up dead. Then again, life was a race, and Tay had promised to beat Sheplin next time. Full steam ahead to the finish line. "The rush, whatever you wanna call it -- too addicting, but ya gotta cap out somewhere. You're too good a pilot to get blasted by some turbo in a trench.

"I mean, what idiot would fly in a trench?"

 

[Frea Sheplin]

Taysonyl Callenid

“Another round?” Frea seemed perplexed for a moment as she stared down into the glass, a veritable event horizon of bad decisions. Just the one had sent her into a buzz, a second one seemed like all the more of a bad decision. So naturally, Frea being who she was, the lips touched her lips. Air blowing through her nose one last time before she dipped her head back into what would undoubtedly be a mistake. This time around the burn didn’t affect her as much, but perhaps that was the point.

“Beer from heer on ouch.” Frea stumbled over her tongue for a second before she shook herself out of it. “It’s probably safer for the both of us.” She chuckled and placed her elbow against the edge of the table to let her cheek rest in the palm of her hand with a content smile spread across her lips.

“Don’t talk like that, Tay-Tay.” Frea smiled and shook her head with a calm, almost knowing headshake. “We’re not racing to the end, we’re racing towards better days and a happier future where we can make a difference in the galaxy, even if it’s just for ourselves.”

The white-haired woman leaned back into her seat and gave a gentle shrug. “If that means acquiring a medal on my chest for being the stupid one that raced a fighter in a trench so she could deliver a crucial payload and blow up a superweapon, count me the fairk in.”

“Besides, we both know racing is ninety-eighty percent luck, twenty percent stupidity, and a hundred percent total freedom.”

“We live free, we die free. I don’t think we could ever ask for more, you know.”

 

[Taysonyl Callenid]

Frea Sheplin
​

Tay grinned at Frea. Bad decisions were her specialty; another round was nothing. The Firrerreo threw her glass back with abandon, spilling a bit on her shirt. After that, she sat and stared at the other girl. Was she listening? She didn't know. All she knew was that- "Does that add up to one hundred? I don't think it does."

She looked at her hands and tried counting before deciding she was right without understanding what her fingers were for. "That doesn't add up to a hundred."

Tay laughed. Not that she was much better at math -- they talked about the calculations and stuff needed to fly a starfighter, but when you had an astromech it didn't matter much. She scratched her head, doing her best to think about what Frea had said.

"So like, we gotta fly... for later? I don't get you. You gotta be like, in the moment, and stuff. I don't care about the- the battles, whatever, just wanna blow something up. Get shot. I dunno."

 

[Frea Sheplin]

Taysonyl Callenid

“It’s a metaphorrr,”

Frea drawled and shook her head yet again.

“Stop count- okay, no crap it don’t add up to hundred, luv. Like I said, been usin’ it all metaphor-like.”

Frea took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

“No, what I’m saying is that like, yeah we’ll die, but that’s our ticket. I’d rather celebrate that than let it put a spanner in my wheel, right?”

“What’s with you and wanting to get shot and die, really?”

The question hopped out of Frea’s mouth as she leaned forward on the table, fingers pushing against her puffed cheek to look Tay in the eyes, almost as if to gauge her reaction.

“We out here living so that others can live with us, but you are soooo focused on the death part.”

“Why?”

 

[Taysonyl Callenid]

Frea Sheplin
​

The question almost sobered her.

Almost.

"I dunno," she said, shrugging, then forgetting she'd shrugged and shrugging again. Maybe it was the drink that was slowing her down, but she was pretty sure she just didn't know. Ever since she'd understood the concept she'd been looking for it. Not from herself, just expecting that it'd happen sooner rather than later. She shrugged again.

"I'm not, like, desperate for it. If I was, I'd just-" she pointed two fingers to the back of her mouth. "Blam, you know?"

Part of her was surprised she was still breathing after it all. She supposed she had a few advantages in that regard. "Nothing's killed me yet. Maybe it's... really good." Her eyes widened. Something in her system told her that that was exactly it, instead of it just being a stupid idea. "I mean- yeah. Like, you die, you don't come back, right? It's gotta be good. So good that you just go and you never want to come back. I mean, I've done a lot, but I've never died, so maybe it's just incredible."

She stared at Frea, then smacked her cheeks and sighed. "I dunno. I dunno.

"You, like... you live for other people. I dunno. Maybe I've just been alone a lot."

 

[Frea Sheplin]

Would be hard to deny that Frea jumped a little as Tay made the motion of a gun in her head. Suicide had never been the answer, and as far as Frea was concerned it was the surest sign of both cowardice and weakness. But, Tay was a survivor and a brave one at that. Wouldn’t have made Vanguard if she wasn’t.

Frea scooched her chair closer to her squadmate, placed her arm around the Firrerro’s shoulder and swept her arm towards the ceiling,

“But not anymore, my friend.” Frea squeezed Tay just a little closer. “We live together, we die together, and I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side for it.”

Her arm fell down by her side again before she rested it against the edge of the table.

“Hell, given those turns on Sector C, I’d say we’re both liable to give the rest of those prats in Saber Squadron a good what-for.” Yes, Frea still really wished she had been on the poster. She had the face for it, there was no denying it. “Now,” She waved at the bar for two more beers. “If I don’t wake up to regret this more than I already am tomorrow, we’ve failed.”

She turned towards the robotic tender. “Two more, and don’t forget the limes, please.”

 

[Taysonyl Callenid]

Frea Sheplin
​

Her voice quivered. "You wouldn't?"

This is embarrassing, sober Tay thought. I shouldn't say anything more.

So she didn't. She cried. It was a terribly embarrassing cry; of course, she didn't remember it the next morning, but Frea just might've. Tay would blame the drink but that'd be just as bad. If everyone knew she was a drunk crier she'd never touch alcohol again.

So maybe it was alright, to be happy. Vulnerable, even; if that word could ever truly be applied to the Firrerreo. All of a sudden she was overcome by a feeling of success and satisfaction like she'd achieved something. All it was was that Frea was right. Not anymore. No more loneliness.

Why was she crying again?

She swore she'd been holding a different drink just a moment ago.

To Vanguard.