Dusting the Rust Off

[Sabetha Tag]

There was no doubt in Sabetha's mind that she was rusty. Two years in a three by three meter square box would do that to anyone. The jobs they'd been running had only driven that point home. Some skills were easier to pick back up again than others. Nothing to 'em but to do 'em. Well, in its way, this particular one was the same. But she really couldn't afford to just 'practice' getting her arse handed over to her when they were doing a job. That was not the time to ease back into the rough and tumble of a good fight. She considered, briefly, asking [member="Hira Mitsae"] for a hand with it- and just as quickly decided nooooooooo.

That woman had no points between off and 'murder bot' as far as Sabetha had witnessed.

Which left her the Man In the Can. [member="Rohak Vizsla"].

"Come on," she said, poking him with her elbow as they walked down the companionway. The freighter was in hyperspace at the moment, and unless something went entirely porgs up neither of them was going to be needed for a bit.

"Look I don't need you to like TRAIN me or nothin'. Just spar a bit. I'm rusty and I know it. Better to work on it than ignore, yah? You can toss me around, it'll be fun."

Hands shoved in the pockets of her jacket, she grinned up at him. "How often you gonna get the opportunity for an invitation to slap my sass around, hmm?"

 

[Zef Halo]

Rohak did not remember a time when he broke the record of repeating 'No' a thousand times under a minute. The small freighter left him with no escape from the pestering ginger or the murder bunny. Somewhere diving in a cushion chair with a chocolate lollipop in her mouth, Hira would hear the variable tones of Sab's pestering and the rhythmic monotonous "no"-es Rohak muttered through his helmet's annunciator. It almost sounded like a band jamming in a studio.

"How often you gonna get the opportunity for an invitation to slap my sass around, hmm?"

He halted as if he hit a brick wall. Ass?. Eyes blinked beneath the visor before his brain reproduced it correctly. Sass.

"Fine." Rohak rumbled with a sigh. He raised his arm pointing to the left where the cargo bay was. Possibly the most open space on the freighter. "What you understand by sparring, a Mandalorian understands differently." That came out foreboding. He'd spar with her, alright, just so she could shut her trap for the rest of the trip.

Rohak turned and marched towards the cargo bay. As he entered the wide, open area of the bay, Rohak took to removing his helmet. Unbeknownst to him, it was the first time since he'd met Hira and Sab on Terminus. A darker, long blonde hair with tints of lighter blonde dropped down his neck tied in a knot at a lower point of the length of his hair. Fainter scars inhabited his face, notably his cheeks and a scar brilliantly sliced his left eyebrow like bridge over water. A beard, not too thin but neither too thick, with a few patches where hair had not grown layered his face sharply.

"Find yourself bandages from a first aid kit." Keeps the knuckles away from harm.

[member="Sabetha Tag"]

 

[Sabetha Tag]

There were lots of times Sabetha took 'no' for an answer. This? This just wasn't one of them.

In part because it cost him almost nothing. An hour or two. Though if it worked out Sab was prepared to keep going or make it a thing, but she would be surprised if he wanted to.

In part as well though because she didn't like working with someone she couldn't get a read on. And Rohak was the definition of 'bland and stoic'. She didn't know if it was an act, or if the armor was suffocating his personality. Whatever it was, she gambled (correctly) that this would get him out of that armor- literally as a first step and maybe, hopefully, figuratively as well. Sab wasn't sure if she'd like what was under there, but knowing someone and not liking them was infinitely better than not knowing at all.

"Look, I have two choices," she said as she trailed him into the hold. "Well three. I could one," she paused, ticking off the options on her fingers.

"Not spar and wait until someone gets the jump on me to figure out just how rusty I am. Unacceptable cause while you and Hira may be terrible people, you would both crash this ship without me right now so I figure you won't maim me at the very least." She grinned widely.

Joking. Mostly. A second finger.

"Two, spar with Hira. That woman's got two modes. Chocolate eating, froo-froo drinking not terrible company woman. And 'Everything dies' woman. Neither of which do me any good here cause I actually like living, thank you very much. She's on or she's off. Nuthin' inbetween, ya feel me?"

She ticked off a third finger.

"Or three. You. Now, I'm taking a gamble that while Mandos ain't built the same as the rest of us cause you've got 'oya oya' cloudin' yer brains, that you won't actually stuff my face through that crack in the inner hull if I miss a punch.... or if I hit you for that matter. So, you're my best bet, and isn't THAT a sad commentary on the current state of things, hmm?"

But she was still smiling. Teasing clearly, rather than mocking. She nodded, heading over to get out the first aid kit and bandage her hands. Sabetha wasn't crazy, and was perfectly content to take actual good advice when it was exactly that. She looked over her shoulder, about to say something as she was wrapping when she caught his face.

A low whistle.

"That's some memory," she said quietly, referring to the scar on his face. "How'd you get it?"

[member="Rohak Vizsla"]

 

[Zef Halo]

froo-froo drink-...what?

oya oya...?

She karkin' talked a lot. And it was either the illiterate meowing of Hira or the endless loop of Sab. No peace could be found aboard this...what'd they named this ship again?

"That's some memory, how'd you get it?"

Rohak looked up from tightening the bandage on his fists and realized what the ginger was talking about. Her eyes locked onto the scar on his cheek.

Technically, it were two scars but both fused together seemed as one. The one above is a scar from an incredibly sharp vibropike belonging to a particular Near-Human. Kayla. To be more specific - something like a former lover.

She. Was. Nuts.

Or Rohak drove her nuts. Either of those is valid. Kayla, short term pit fighter gone bounty hunter, ended up hunting an incredibly thick bounty on a transport cruiser when Rohak and a crew of pirates commandeered the ship and took the bounty under her nose too.

Not fun.

That day he received another scar from her - a straight line scarring his back horizontally.

The other scar? The pirate wished to never remember but instead - would never forget. Above Kashyyyk during the conquest and razing of the planet by the Mandalorians as a vendetta against the Republic, he lost his older brother Shev to flak midway through a free fall from a Mandalorian frigate towards a Republic frigate in an attempt to board it. Part of the flak tore through his own helmet leaving that scar forever. A scar that ran deeper than the skin on his face.

"Kashyyyk." The reply came coldly with dead eyes staring somewhere into the void.

He waved away the grim memories and turning his gaze upon their designated pilot. Inspecting her from the bottom to the top he found her build quite athletic. Physically ready, that was at least a start.

"And you?" Rohak spinned his hand over his face actually meaning her freckles. Out of an insistence to move away from the topic about him. "How did you get those?"

Yeah, he'd never seen nor heard nor knew about freckles. Odd, right?

The pirate shifted into a guard position awaiting both verbal and physical reply to come from Sab. The verbal was certain, can't keep that mouth shut.

[member="Sabetha Tag"]

 

[Sabetha Tag]

Wrapping her knuckles, she turned back to the Mando, giving him a solid once over (twice) while he was mulling over his response. From how long it took him, she had been expecting an actual story. Instead?

One word.

"Wow, that sounds really intense," she said, deadpan. "Ya think about getting some therapy for that?"

Honestly, it wasn't an entirely mocking response. She caught the thousand yard stare- soldiers who'd been through hell and back and came out different for it had that quality to them. Children who had seen their city bombed from orbit and miraculously lived despite everything around them burning. Refugees from horrors at the hands of something worse than mere armies. Oh, she knew that look.

Sabetha laughed, the tone light and surprised when he asked about her freckles. She assumed he was joking. Sense of humor under that armor and dead fish stare? Who would have guessed.

"Acid attack," she replied with all seriousness. "Got cornered by mutant mynocks and their evil sith ewok creator. Thought about wearing a mask to hide it- it's hideous I know. Instead I use them to intimidate easily frightened enemies while I rob them blind."

Sab didn't do one word answers apparently.

Sabetha wasn't a brawler. In the circles she'd run in, her reputation had been larger than her ability in this arena. Oh, she'd been rapidly regaining her form and tone after two years in a box, but even before she was the sort to shy away from a straight on fight if she could avoid it. She used distraction, the unexpected, and sheer dumb luck more than anything. She had a mean left hook though, and was perfectly happy to punch someone silly if they were fool enough to let her.

Rohak didn't seem that sort.

Either way, she shifted her weight to the right to indicate a strike from that direction before jabbing at him with the left. She had no problem taking advantage of that south paw, especially when people expected folks as a general rule to lead with their right.

[member="Rohak Vizsla"]