Built on sand

[Loske Treicolt]

Mos Espa,​

Tatooine ​

[SIZE=11pt]“How old is this?” Loske asked, threading the material through her fingertips and looking up at the shopkeeper. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Beneath cloth that obstructed the face of the shopkeep, the voice was muffled. “Aged over a decade.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]That matched up with the timeline Frank had informed her. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Marcello Matteo[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] had spent a handful of years on Tatooine, looking to eradicate Krayt Dragons from threatening the towns on the outskirts. Sometimes the beasts had ventured near enough to pluck apart families of scavengers. This could have been one of those unfortunate enough Krayts. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“How’s your supply these days?” The blonde asked, leaning against the counter and turning the strip of hide over in her hands. As she touched the dried out skin that had once belonged to a fabled, threatening beast, she was thinking back to the Rockrender that she’d felt the emotions of. Maybe she could do that again with something else..something more...[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]rideable [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]in the future. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The shopkeeper offered only a shrug, before changing the question. “You gonna buy this or not.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Probably.” Loske confirmed, reaching into her back pocket for some credits. “I need a new seat for my [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]swoop[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]. Bought an old one that needs some sprucing up before it hits the track, I’ve got to be comfortable when I win.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The shopkeeper didn’t respond, and didn’t really offer any sort of reaction other than accepting the handful of finances the offworlder placed into its gloved hand. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Outside the shop, Frank waited impatiently as several dusty passers-by stooped to reach out to him. He zapped a few, beeped at others, until he was totally impatient and sent out a larger sounding alert - loud enough for his organic mistress inside to take the hint. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Pleasure doing business,” Loske confirmed, holding the hide above her head in a gesture and folding it up into her pack and turning back outside into the blazing heat. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Hotter than Kiffu out here.” She observed, waiting for Frank to respond. The dusty droid only [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]hmmmm[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]’d back at her, too upset to reciprocate with banter. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt][member="Amea Virou"][/SIZE]​

 

[Amea Virou]

[member="Loske Matson"]

It was corrupt, crime-riddled, and sandy in the wrong kind of way. Tatooine was not a place that Amea enjoyed much but one that served its purpose regardless of her preferences. In the alleys she found no shortage of contacts to be made, and in the cantinas she found no shortage of scum to track down. The paycheck of the day had been picked up from running a quick scav-run to keep her head above ground, and from here it was up in the air what she was to do. The binary suns offered no respite from the heat, and no matter where you turned the pickpockets and ‘voluntary servants’ sized you up and go way too close.

A boy no older than 9 passed her. She knew his approach and the trick he meant to use. A hand slipped under her cloak yet the boy would find himself caught in a firm grab around his wrist. Amea knelt down to his height to stare him straight in the eyes, his fear evident before she eased up and let his wrist go.

“Consider that a warning.” She said and rose up from the ground to continue down the street. Most of these children had no choice but to steal and beg, or so Amea assumed. The historical track record of Tatooine wasn’t exactly the best.

Coming up on a nearby store she spotted an upset droid. People approached it en masse and found themselves beaten away. For a second Amea had to admit she would not have expected an astromech droid to fight back. It was peculiar too. Almost as if…

The ball dropped and Amea felt the surprise roll over her.

She had made that. Or technically someone she knew.

On approach she noticed its owner step outside the storefront.

“You get used to it.” Amea said, interjecting herself into the talk Loske had with her droid. Amea knelt down towards the droid and reached out for it. The droid tried to attack her but found that it simply… Couldn’t. But it tried. Oh, it really tried.

“Cute droid.” Amea said and stood up to look at Loske again. “Where’d you get that?”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

At the comment from the stranger, Loske didn't skip a beat - welcoming the non-hostile conversation. "Yeah, I guess we've been spoiled with only one sun up until now.." protectively, she extended a hand to rest on top of Frank's curved head.

Blue eyes widened when the interaction took place between her astromech and [member="Amea Virou"]. It was like there was a personal force field around her, that made Frank quiver with defeat. His mechanical nerve ends were livid at the touch, a sense of confusion circulating throughout his hardware.


Her brow arched, and she was a little slow to respond. To make it feel less awkward, she adjusted the weight of the pack against her hip "Uh, thanks - I've had him a few years now. A friend of mine made him for me... off the record. He might be due for an upgrade.." she snickered lowly, and the droid piped up now with a modulated voice.

And by that, she means a new owner.

"Aw, you don't mean that."

Frank emitted a low beep, like a humanoid version of a huff.

Loske looked at the other woman, giving the droid a final pat on the head before removing her hand. "He really doesn't mean that." More assurance for herself, than the stranger. "Are you a fan of droids?"

 

[Amea Virou]

[member="Loske Matson"]

“I don’t know about that, little fella looks just fine to me.” Amea said and looked down at the astromech. “A bit snarky, but that’s to be expected of droids built to be blank sheets.”

Amea’s hand traced atop of the spherical dome that made out Frank’s head with a weak smile. He had been pushing for almost a decade now, hadn’t he? The number had to at least be somewhere around there. Upgrades were certainly warranted, or at the very least a thorough scrubbing of his insides. She could only imagine the amount of dust that would have accumulated over the years.

Frank was unappreciative of the proximity. He had a fire to him much like his creator. It made Amea laugh.

“L138, you’re very different from when you rolled off the drawing board.”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

I look great. Frank boasted in agreement.

However, as the mysterious woman continued, Loske and Frank went rigid when [member="Amea Virou"] indicated the droid's model. "I'm sorry..do we..." Loske interjected, narrowing her eyes, as if rifling through a mental rolodex or little black book of names. "Do we know you? How did you know he was blank slate?"

Only two people in the universe knew about Frank's origin. And one of them was herself.

The other was [member="Kaili Talith"].

 

[Amea Virou]

[member="Loske Matson"]

Desired effect: achieved. Amea looked at the other two and gave them a wide grin. She could probably push this further if she wanted to. And in reality, Amea really wanted to. It was a gold mine of humor, albeit on Frank and Loske’s behalf.

“I’d sure hope so, Loske Matson.” Amea said, perked her brow and leaned away. “Rogue Squadron, reaching as far as Rogue One unless I am mistaken.”

Hmm, no, that was just creepy.

“Okay, that one went just… A little too far.” Amea chuckled and kept herself ready just in case the trained soldier had a violent dislike for the joke. “Sorry, I’ll start over.”

Amea extended her hand.

“Amea Virou.” She’d pull Loske closer for a whisper. “But you know me as Kaili Talith.”

It was the Imperial, wasn't it? Amea had perfected her accent at this point.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Her abdomen clenched when the woman used the pilot's full name. And discussed her profession. Not that she was secretive about it, although with recent encounters amidst alchemists - she'd started to think about multiple identities. Or at least, keeping her own a little bit more enigmatic. Her breath hitched, and then released when [member="Amea Virou"] suggested her humour was pushing too far.

The voice, the hair, the eyes - everything Loske had known about Kaili was not immediately visible in this person in front of her. She and the Talith woman weren't necessarily close, but Loske would have liked to consider her a friend. Though, she liked to consider almost everybody a friend after an initial introduction - call her an open heart.

"Holy kark," Loske whispered hurriedly, keeping her grip around the woman's palm. The subtle change of vocals, and the touch, sent a flicker of visible memories through Loske's mind. Having experienced this now twice around Talith siblings, Loske was aware that this was a bout of psychometery and was less afraid than she had been a handful of years ago. She was cast back to the workshop on Borealis.

She snapped back to attention, dumbstruck. She moved her hand to up Kaili's shoulders, and hugged her. An embrace that would have probably been more appropriate for better friendships, but Loske was an affectionate person when given the opportunity, and the galaxy's mortality was too strict to be precious with moments. She squeezed. "It's so nice to see you!"

She pulled back, looking over the youth; "What are you doing out here?"

Frank whined excitedly.

 

[Amea Virou]

[member="Loske Matson"]

Appropriate or not it was always nice to be hugged. Amea let her head rest against the blonde’s shoulder for a short second before they separated again. For a second there she felt herself constricted by the tight squeeze of her long-lost acquaintance.

“Keep hugging people like that and maybe my brother won’t be the only one with a crush on you.” Assumedly, anyway. Amea grinned as she leaned back to answer Loske’s questions. “Well, I've been running salvage mostly. Archaeology, tomb raiding, grave robbing, the things somewhere in between there…”

Really, the gray zone of archaeology was huge and blurry at best. It was always important to be honest with yourself when possible. Kneeling down to touch upon Frank’s excited chassis she gave the droid a warm smile.

“I remember the day that you rolled out of the shop.” Amea felt an almost motherly smile pull at her lips. “Have Loske treated you well? Where have you guys been?”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Loske drew her hands back to herself in the same instant [member="Amea Virou"] made the suggestion that her brother might have a crush on her. Instantly, she flushed and diverted her gaze -- pretending to be distracted by an interaction between two robe-wearing individuals off to the side. It took a lot of self-control to not pry into that statement, and take it as the tease it was. To let out some of the excited tension in her body, she evidenced a faux-cool shrug.

"Oh yeah? What's the coolest thing you've uncovered?" The blonde pried, almost in the same breath as Amea finished her sentence - clearly all to eager to change the subject for fear of over burdening a single train of thought. She was also relieved when the attention was again on Frank, and she could regain her composure.

She's a nut. Frank said...frankly. I've had too many near-short-circuit experiences to count. From space dragons in Rishi to Rockrenders on Sullust. You name it, we've barely outrun it.

Loske shook her head and rolled her eyes, serving up a prompt "What about that mission to Corporo, where you got to meet Alex?"

Oh...yeah.. Frank said, almost dreamily in reminiscence.

"Frank's definitely saved my skin, and the skin of others, more than once." She produced a hand to start listing off missions finger by finger, "Saved evacs on Mon Cala, Jungle runs on Ziajani, Swoop bike racing in Ahto City --" she simpered "And we're only just getting warmed up.

What's to find on Tatooine? As we were pulling in, Frank told me this place used to have a luscious water body.

This is quite far from Borealis, you must have quite the map under your belt too."

 

[Amea Virou]

[member="Loske Matson"]

Anything cool? Technically Amea Virou had never found anything, but always managed to be present in expeditions that did. It was already too convenient, and a reason why Amea in more recent days began to look for other sources of income. Tomb raiding was a good source of energy and in many ways quite fun despite the injuries suffered. Take the golden figurine, outrun the giant mantis-freaks and then hand it over to the expeditionary leader after having a quick look for yourself.

“I mostly go for more recent digs. The Clone Wars era has already been studied to a great extent, as has the Old Republic. Few people seem to see the value of researching the impact the Gulag Plague had on the galaxy for some reason.” Amea shrugged. “It’s seen me to many places, and with all that has happened…”

Amea began to lead Loske into an alley for shade and a place to sit.

“Micah was in a coma, the darkness of our Uncle present in his veins. Borleias has turned into a hellish landscape over the last few years, but we’re safe on our little island.” Amea looked away, towards the crowds in the streets. “He almost died, much like my at-the-time girlfriend did. In the same place nonetheless.”

Bad memory.

“Uh, but… Yeah!” Amea did a complete one-eighty on the topic. “Water on Tatooine is a fascinating statement, although for the time being I have mostly been looking up leads for a site off-the-maps that is supposed to be home to some sort of Gulag Plague-related sanctum that went dark as the worst of the plague swept this way.”

“Why are you here?”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Frank trailed at the heels of the two young women as they walked from the main market corridor. Meanwhile, Loske spent a handful of seconds surveying the alley before allowing herself to ease back into the same level of comfort she'd had in the open space. Marking exits in a narrow space didn't take as long as an open area, but they still had to be made. It meant that she'd only broken her gaze from her acquaintance for the fraction of a sentence.

"Some people think the Gulag plague a blessing.." She commented uselessly, mostly to indicate she had been listening. She was really quoting from an opinion piece Frank had showed her once. The statement was accompanied by a shudder before Amea continued.

One of the sand-based buildings had an outlet carved that was about seat level, and the two lowered to it beneath a shanty awning. When Amea started to talk about Micah, her home, and her girlfriend, Loske couldn't stop her hand from touching the woman's forearm as she listened. She didn't want to say anything about how sorry she was for Amea, she didn't seem the type to react well to pity - nor was she seeking it. If she was, Tatooine was the wrong spot. So some sort of empathetic gesture was all Loske could muster up without interrupting the story.

Frank let out a sympathetic boooorp.

"Swoop bike racing." Loske answered simply, letting a wry grin push her cheeks upwards devilishly "Nothing like picking up some new tricks from some of the dirtiest flyers in the galaxy.

If you're not doing anything tomorrow, I'm hitting the track in the afternoon - I imagine it's not bad to spectate."

 

[Amea Virou]

[member="Loske Matson"]

Some people thought the Gulag Plague was a blessing, some people were also morons. So many years lost to chaos and disarray. So many years of technological stagnation if not outright destruction. Impromptu vaults and time capsules buried under rubble and nobody seemed keen to find it, at least no one of note. It was all about the Skywalkers and Revans, of the Republic and Empire. It broke Amea’s heart to think about where they could have been now if it hadn’t been allowed to happen.

And that little touch had helped. It was rare that Amea let anyone close, but Loske had been far too fast for Amea to react, and though Frank tried the topic quickly moved away from death and loss to swoop racing. Now that was something Amea herself would admit she dreamt of. She’d probably crash and die given her family’s history, but that didn’t mean she would stop dreaming of it.

“I’d love that.” Amea said and beamed a smile. “Do you have the bike close by? Could I take a look at it?”

“If- if you are okay with me looking at it,” Amea said with a nervous chuckle. “Of course. Only to look, no touching. Unless I can do that too.”

“... Can I do that, too?”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

[SIZE=11pt]Kaili wanted to see her ship! [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“It’s just outside of the city market, in a garage near the track.” The kiffar clone jabbed a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the direction they’d be taking. “Just a bit of a walk. I’ll warn you though, I’m just a mechanic, there’s nothing particularly fancy about it except for maybe the scramjet booster I picked up enough parts to make. It’s been forced into the engines of this swoop baby. That should be useful for some extra juice near the beginning and end.” She was already getting excited to nerd out about this with [member="Amea Virou"]. Especially since she was such a technical wizard.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Pfft.” she pawed dismissively at the air and rose from her seat, stepping backward to lead the way out of the city “I’d be thrilled if you did whatever you wanted -- we can even take it for a spin, but let’s wait until night time or something - don’t want to show off too much with lots of eyeballs around.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She adjusted the weight of the pack and started to walk, leaving footprints that Frank rolled over to make wheel lines. “It’s nutty competitive here, Pod Racing was made illegal because of the cutthroat maneuvers, but you can’t take behaviour out of the racing community.” [/SIZE]

 

[Amea Virou]

[member="Loske Matson"]

“I mean, your ‘just a mechanic’ is most likely more than the majority of the galaxy who aren’t even mechanically able at all.” Amea said, thinking a quiet ‘or something like that’ as they went. “And trust me, if there is one thing I am quite keenly aware of it is the rules and laws of the Outer Rim.”

A grin spread on Amea’s lips as they left the alley and proceeded to walk. Wasn’t hard to notice Frank covering up parts of Loske’s footsteps either. Peculiar, yet understandable. It was Tatooine after all.

“I heard about that.” Amea said and moved on to talk pod-racing from her own perspective. “I can’t exactly say I am surprised. Pod-racing was high risk with low reward for what you did and how other acted. Strung together salvaged motors and cockpits are a poor basis for an uncontrolled sport.”

Then again, what was a good sport?

“Do you stay anywhere nearby? Figure it’s easier to wait for evening away from prying eyes.”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

An obliged smile curved her lips at the semi-compliment, well, uninformed comliment from [member="Amea Virou"]. It was true, Loske wasn't shabby at manufacturing things and making them run - she'd done a fine job when the Rogue Squadron had been stranded on a planet none too different than this one. Not a full-force grease monkey, but perhaps a lemur.

"Uh, about the same distance walk to the spaceport. I'm a bit of a sleeper-inner, so the closer I could be to the ride, the better." Loske didn't divert her path with the explanation, there was no need. All three things she required for the visit were in the same proximity.

"Unless you're nearer by?"

 

[Amea Virou]

[member="Loske Matson"]

Sleeper-inner. Now wasn’t that relatable on the off-days? Amea had always been a hard worker, but on days when work wasn’t a factor it was pointless to spend any more time awake than she had to. Those days were few and far between, but they happened. As the two walked Amea listened, nodded as her friend talked until finally she shook her head.

“I don’t really have a room right now, more of a couch here and there that people are kind enough to offer.” She said and looked over her shoulder at the crowds. No tails, good. “So, you know, if you have a couch I could steal I am not opposed to it.”

Being a warden rarely meant a high standard of living, but that suited Amea just fine. A lack of roots made it easier to move from place to place undetected, and in some cases, untraceable.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Sure thing, it's just a little hostel-like spot." She gave a brief shrug and continued trekking. A light wind swept through the yellow planet, and rustled any loose fabrics it could find.

"Have you experienced any of Tatooine's wind storms yet?" Loske asked, arcing her hand over her eyes to look into the wasteland's distance. Within the corridors of the market place, people were still mulling about unbothered. The only reason the crowds appeared to be thinning, is because they were nearing closer the edge of the city where her hostel was located. Following her gaze, one would start to notice that the magnificent twin suns were starting to set in the distance.

One more turn, and Loske had lead the way to the front door of a bleached white building with heat waves radiating from the exterior. It was in that instant that Loske realized that may be why there were no door knobs in Tatooine - it would scald the skin to touch after cooking in the desert heat for a day's rotation. She ducked into the hostel's lobby, moving the cloth curtain/door to the side and rummaging in her pocket for a key.

The hostel was about three floors high, and not too impressive. It was also mostly empty, as many of the racers were locals or a little flashier than the Alliance Rogue pilot, who was preferring to keep a lower profile. More like her father, than mother in that regard.

Loske was on the second floor, and chatting all the way up the small stair case. "You know what I was told when I checked into a hotel once?" There was no pause for [member="Amea Virou"] to interrogate "People who live on the first floor are the last to get murdered in a hotel. The killer will always start at the top floor, and keep murdering on their way down to the exit. That way, response teams are going up to the first reported incident while the killer is on the way down."

She looked incredulously over her shoulder before entering into a room. Nevermind - there was no need for a key here. She'd forgotten about that part.

"Creepy, heh?"

 

[Amea Virou]

[member="Loske Matson"]

Hostels were fine, they beat sleeping on the cold hard floor of an unmarked freighter after all. Amea wasn’t proud to admit it, but it had certainly happened more times than she would have liked it to. Came with the job at times. Stakeouts, getting the chance to ambush a team of smugglers or pirates when they had left harbor, there were a lot of uses for it.

As for the winds, well…

“Had to spend a week in a dusty old tomb a few months back. Those winds would have wiped your very face off if you let it.” Amea said as they turned the corner. The heat was bearable, a bit too warm, but not something Amea hadn’t experienced in the last few weeks. Archaeology life, it wasn’t for everyone.

As they went to the room Amea looked at Loske with a curious glance that quickly turned into a blinking, utterly confused glance.

“Well that’s morbid.” She said and gave the pilot a joking twice-over. “You’re not sharing some kind of master plan, I hope.” Her grin grew just a little bit wider. “I mean, that’s kinda f-” The sound of the door swaying to the side muted Amea’s voice. “-up. Who says something like that to a guest looking to stay at their establishment?”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Someone who hopes their guests don't stay too long." Loske commented back, a wry grin sprawling across her pout as she crossed to the kitchen and offloaded her skin sack. She moved to where a fridge should have been, but it was just a row of shelves, and removed a container and two glasses.

She rested her back against the countertop as she poured some of the precious liquid into the plastic containers. Or, whatever was nearest to plastic on this planet. It was sad how moisture could be associated with wealth on this planet, she was just a visitor, and she had the resources to have multiple jugs of water available to her -- while here, moisture farmers toiled for months on end collecting the smallest of drops with limited supplies to do so. The galaxy was an injust place. When she filled a cup for [member="Amea Virou"] she felt a little guilty that she was here for leisure.

Capping the container once more, she restored it back to its place on the shelf and took a cup for herself and extended one to her friend.

"Does being around tombs make you think of your own mortality, or what you'll leave behind when you die?"

She lifted the glass to her lips, taking a sip and peering over the edge at the brunette.

"Or did Kaili Talith already die, and that's why you're Amea...now?"

Obviously the mysteries of faces were beyond her.

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

"You know you had a droid out front causing some trouble?" Jacen called out as he stepped into the shop. He was still unwrapping the stained length of fabric from across his mouth and nose.

"I've had cheekier droids staying," called back Jacen's older, and oft grumpier, uncle. "Belonged to that local girl, Choli. Your lad still seeing her?" Kellan asked.

"Hasn't told me otherwise," Jacen replied. He moved to start tidying the random assortment of items Kellan kept in his shop. He did this because he knew it annoyed his brother. Whilst he had decided to dissappear out here, Trextan was wandering the Galaxy with Chloe Blake. They were both done with war, but he hoped Trextan could at least find a fresh start.

"Will you leave my stuff alone?" Kellan grumbled.