Hix quietly worked, going over the plans of future additions to the farm from the bag he had brought back from their home planet. Even if they did retake their homeworld one day, he would not return. It wasn't that he hated his people, nor was it that he had no care for the planet. He had something here, his vod Kaine had given him something worth more to him than barren soil. A goal. His dream. Even if that dream had a few, illegal facets to it. Not that his plans for it would not help keep the business afloat, or at the least pay for itself. It made him a vhett in one sense, but a profitable one.
In a backroom of the zoo, the tall man looked over the additions and notes he had taken. The space monkey Lirka having given him a proper name idea to start off the business with a bang...in one sense of the phrase. An invite to K Kaine Australis was sent, room and all only detailing a need for private discussion. Wasn't in those fancy a words. It boiled down to "Put the kids to bed and let's get drunk." In light of his niece and son being present on the planet at their arrival.
Hix could never see himself with kids. Never mind with anyone for that matter. Having spent so much time tracking across the galaxy, studying rancor and meetings strange indigenous peoples, his view on the whole thing was a bit scattered. Couldn't fault Kaine for it though. At least the girl wasn't his. The boy though, that one was trouble brewing. The thought was mulled on as he pulled open the fridge door, retrieving the chilled correllian whiskey and putting a few fingers in a glass. He paused, opening the cabinet again and pulling another glass out but didn't pour yet.
Turning back, he eyed the lab layout, and the isolation pens he would need to build further out. Away from prying eyes. Or at least far enough away that it was no longer a matter of clearance issues that stopped people from being rancor food. The question remained in his head though. Who were they going to play nice with, and who was cut from the deal?
It wasn't a matter of issue with Kaine. If he had wanted it to fail, he wouldn't have made it in the first place. The others were decent, but when other family, cousins, brothers, sisters, uncles from your seventh line twice removed. That's when the shavit got to be like a jawa on spice. To many questions of who done what and why. The cigarra box came out, a deep breath rattling as he lit and inhaled the familiar smokey burn.
Who were they going to let play with their toys? And who would they let the toys play with?
K Kaine Australis
In a backroom of the zoo, the tall man looked over the additions and notes he had taken. The space monkey Lirka having given him a proper name idea to start off the business with a bang...in one sense of the phrase. An invite to K Kaine Australis was sent, room and all only detailing a need for private discussion. Wasn't in those fancy a words. It boiled down to "Put the kids to bed and let's get drunk." In light of his niece and son being present on the planet at their arrival.
Hix could never see himself with kids. Never mind with anyone for that matter. Having spent so much time tracking across the galaxy, studying rancor and meetings strange indigenous peoples, his view on the whole thing was a bit scattered. Couldn't fault Kaine for it though. At least the girl wasn't his. The boy though, that one was trouble brewing. The thought was mulled on as he pulled open the fridge door, retrieving the chilled correllian whiskey and putting a few fingers in a glass. He paused, opening the cabinet again and pulling another glass out but didn't pour yet.
Turning back, he eyed the lab layout, and the isolation pens he would need to build further out. Away from prying eyes. Or at least far enough away that it was no longer a matter of clearance issues that stopped people from being rancor food. The question remained in his head though. Who were they going to play nice with, and who was cut from the deal?
It wasn't a matter of issue with Kaine. If he had wanted it to fail, he wouldn't have made it in the first place. The others were decent, but when other family, cousins, brothers, sisters, uncles from your seventh line twice removed. That's when the shavit got to be like a jawa on spice. To many questions of who done what and why. The cigarra box came out, a deep breath rattling as he lit and inhaled the familiar smokey burn.
Who were they going to let play with their toys? And who would they let the toys play with?
K Kaine Australis