Love in a Bottle

[Zandra Tal'verda]

Pirating was a full time job. Not exactly the most glamorous job, mind you, but it put booze on the table. And of course, you got to travel. That was a plus. Your coworkers were... lively. Sometimes you could get a real conversation going... before they, you know, tried to steal from you. It all came with the job. You got used to it.

Zandra Tal'verda was one of those who didn't have to get used to it. This was simply what life was. The former 'pirate queen' sat slumped in a grubby seat in the cockpit. Between her smudged red lips, she held a lit cigara, burned almost to the end. A small pile of ash had collected in the shallow dish balanced on the arm rest. As always, she wore very little, the most conservative piece of clothing being the grubby, over sized leather jacket she had draped over her shoulders.

Something beeped to the womans left. Brilliant blue eyes slid to the side to see what the flashing light was for. She plucked the cig from between her lips and put it out on the glass dish. Incoming message. She breathed a heavy puff of smoke through her nose and mouth as she hit a button.

"Att-n, Ne-- in Distr--- Hel--" Static took the rest away, but it was enough to go on. Distress call. Way out here. This was either a trap, or an opportunity. Zandra flicked another cigara out from the crushed box on the dashboard, lit it up and turned on the ships comm unit.

"All crew to the bridge immediately. I ain' playin' here. Ya'll can catch up on yer beauty sleep later."

 

[Werdla Dardalab]

Comm Unit.

Before the Mando had even processed the words coming out of said comm unit from its place on the wall of her quarters she'd tumbled out of her cot and was half way into her armour, riot gun in hand and peering around suspiciously. Then she blinked.

"Wrrzif?"

Came the as usual philosophically genius inquiry to the galaxy at large.

There didn't seem to be any explosions currently. It was probably all right to take two minutes rather than thirty seconds to get ready. Da would call her a slacker but, hey, pirating had to have some perks. Shrugging the rust oh her armour on, though she left the helmet dangling at her belt for now she went to the fresher, spashed some water on her face, had a drink from the tap and reckoned that was that. La did not exactly have a beauty care regimen.

Grabbing her weapons, La headed for the bridge to join [member="Zandra Tal'verda"] .

 

[Ryan]

Hither came Serg Leone the Corellian Morellian, blond haired, sullen green-eyed, ale in hand, a thief, a pirate, a slayer, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the jeweled thrones of the galaxy under his leathered feet. The Drea's captain would enter the bridge as the Pirate Queen had summoned. His emerald green hues would dart towards the data screens and then back to the two female crewmembers.

"What do you have for us Zandra?" Serg would calmly inquire with a practiced cold face though below the emotionless fasad there was excitement. Zandra was on duty and there would be only two reasons she would oust them all. One, there was prey to be had; or two they were the prey to be had. "Please be it of good news, eh!" They have had bit of a dry period and when crew don't have swag to collect or victims to be had things could get dicey in such tight quarters. Especially with a unique crew they have.

Serg would take up roost upon his comfy pilot/captain's chair, swiveling it to face the others.

[member="Werdla Dardalab"] [member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

The Echani cooly plucked the cig from her lips, a red lipstick stain on the filter already. She turned to the voices, cocking a star white eyebrow and blowing smoke out of her nose.

"Could be somethin'. Could be nothin'. I'll letcha decide fer yerself, Cap'n."

Zandra was not the captain this time round. She'd had her fill of bossing a crew around. They had a good run. Got famous. Few songs were written about them before Zandra settled down with Cal and had two kids. The crew dispersed after that. Who knew where the rest of them were now. Probably dead. She took a long thoughtful draw of her cig. Yeah. Probably dead.

[member="Serg Leone"] [member="Werdla Dardalab"]

 

[Hijinks]

If anybody in the little pirate ship looked out the window, they would see something, alright. A bright purple Raider-class corvette stood silently in space, with exactly one living occupant: The Escher Warden Jink Matto. He was, through a mind-draining amount of telekinetic movement, piloting the ship singlehandedly. He had no way to access weapons, and there was no real damage to the systems of the ship. However, the droids aboard weren't enough to keep a whole ship running at full capacity.

The culprit of the mass-murder of Jink's crew was, of course, dead. The Cheshire Cat had ripped his enemies to shreds in the process of getting to their Sith commander. This was what trusting the Sith beyond Carliah and Taeli's control got him. An iron bar through the chest, and his crew dead by a combination of blasterfire and nerve gas.

Jink hit the comm, again.

"I can see you, little freighter. This is Warden Jink Matto speaking. I'm being jammed, and I'm flying this bird alone."

He smiled as he heard the jamming interference go away, along with the remains of one of the enemy Sith's troopers. He noticed the skull design of the freighter's cockpit, and smiled even wider, despite the pain.

"Oh, now I really see you. Cute accents, Captain Leone."

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"] [member="Serg Leone"] [member="Werdla Dardalab"]

 

[Werdla Dardalab]

"Who th'fuck is that? Are we shooting them? Do y'know them? Should we expect them t'fight back particularly hard if so? I know how your charms can take some folks Cap'n."

La queried [member="Serg Leone"]. Just because someone knew him didn't make them a friendly. In fact it usually put them into the decidedly unfriendly category. The Cap'n had way with folks. After spending any amount of time with him they just wanted to get right up close and personal, usually with a blaster or a knife.

"That's a damned ugly ship."

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"] [member="Hijinks"]

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

He just wanted the holo of his father, that was all. He hadn't expected his mother to actually leave in the ship from Kurs'taylir! Rawnie was likely losing her little mind - but the other villagers would take care of her.

Corrin was enjoying his very first trip off of Mandalore, even if it was underneath a bed. He was still small enough to scurry under his mother's furniture in her quarters, and snuck around the ship when he had need of food or something similar. He had a knack for slipping into the shadows when anyone walked by. Backow said it was the force. Corrin thought he was full of osik.

The heir to the Tal'verda clan crept up slowly behind the group. His Verpine Sniper Rifle was slung just over his shoulder. He was dressed in a simple black hoodie and dark pants. Fingerless gloves protected his hands from all the sharp parts of the ship - of which there were many.

That was when he tripped. His boot caught on a loose sheet of metal and little Corrin went tumbling forward, landing flat on his face just behind his mother.

"Shab!"



[member="Werdla Dardalab"] [member="Hijinks"] [member="Zandra Tal'verda"] [member="Serg Leone"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

Zandra looked up from where she was leaning over the console at the sound of a tiny, yet very familiar voice. No. She plucked the smoldering cigara from her lips, tapping the ash off onto the floor. No. She straightened up, heels clicking loudly on the steel floor as she made her way over to her son laying on the floor.
No.

Holding the cig between her fingers, she reached down to lift the boy up by the collar of his shirt.

"You made a mistake, Boy." Her voice was cold, dangerous. She put her cig up to her lips, taking a long draw of it until the tip glowed a deep red.

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

This display might have intimidated most people. It would have scared the kark out of Rawnie. It would even freeze their father in his tracks.

Corrin was not of that mind.

He tilted his head upward as she pulled at his collar. His boots scraped the floor at the sudden movement, though he quickly gained purchase. Twelve year old Corrin was, after all, almost eye level with his short mother.

"Hi mom." He smiled big and wide, rather unintimidated by her display. If she's done something like this on Mandalore, he would have been frightened. Here though, he was convinced she was only trying to prove her dominance. He'd heard more than one story of her past life when she had a little too much to drink.

He waved a hand toward the strangers. "Su cuy gar, aruetisse." If Corrin was aware of the negative connotation of that last word, it didn't show...

That was when one of the vent coverings popped open. A large, slobbering, furry beast tumbled out on the deck. It stood on six strong legs, and its shoulder came up to waist height.

The Strill, Lord Cabur, licked his chops, and stared up at the mother and son.

Time to pirate!



[member="Zandra Tal'verda"] [member="Werdla Dardalab"] [member="Hijinks"] [member="Serg Leone"]

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

The pirate Queen, Zandra the terrible, felt her eye twitch. She blew smoke straight into the boys face as she let him go with a stream of curses in a half dozen languages.

"When I find yer father, kid, I'm gunna smack him for givin' me such a little rebel for a son."
She took another drag of her cig until the red ember was almost to the filter. She then tossed it to the ground in front of him and crushed it with the toe of her boot.

"Boy, you and the mutt, make yerself useful. Ya got the blood of a pirate in ya. All pirates start somewhere. I want the floors of the ship scrubbed until I can see my kriffin' reflection in it."

She eyed the strill, then kicked the butt of her cigara towards the boy.

"Start with that."


[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

 

[Werdla Dardalab]

Aruetisse?

The Mando bristled. La was not good at dealing with civilians. Or children. She tended to either see the small ones as particularly annoying and helpless civvies, or as short idiotic adults. This boy for example, was easily old enough and big enough in her opinion to be considered a man. Certainly she'd been bountyhunting with her Da regularly be his age.

Aruetisse?

She answered the call whenever it reached her. She'd kept her damned soul. She'd bled and she'd sure as Hell made the enemies of the Mandalorians bleed a hell of a lot more, and this little idiot was going to call her aruetisse?

The Strill was something of a surprise, that it had maanged to go unnoticed, but then again with a ship that stank of [member="Tiktok the Cook"] ones nostrils tended to shut down in self defence. Still, she was almost conditioned not to take notice of Strills until they became a direct threat, and even then a punch in the face usually had them backing off if they got a bit too playful.

La vaguely registered the boy calling [member="Zandra Tal'verda"] 'mom', but she was busy being growly about someone who if they knew the word ought to know better than to use it at another Mando calling her a traitor. Her response was immediate and annoyed, gravely voice spitting out her reply.

"Aruetii? Meg narir gar bu'a da aruetii b'amr? Paba gar akaanir bal tal'galar par Manda'yaim? Sto jaon'yc paba gar gotal jie aru'ela tal'galar?"

Zandras declaration that he could go get a mop mollified her somewhat, but she was still less than pleased. If she ever spawned she'd cuff some bloody respect into them before they were grown!

"Weren't we about to do a real job?"

She demanded crossly, hoping that whoever was on that ungodly ship ranked a blaster bolt. Shooting someone would be good. Maybe many someones. That would be fantastic.

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"] [member="Serg Leone"]

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

That was an angry Mando. Half of it was gibberish to Corrin, he was not from Keldabe or the areas related. Clan Tal'verda ruled the north, and generally stayed away from the other clans. It had all spawned in a mess where his father and uncles had declared the last Mandalore Dar'manda and refused to follow him.

In recent years, Tal'verda had returned to its rightful place on Mandalore, albeit with a suspicious eye for their neighbors. They weren't as rigorous as the other clans, preaching the bonds of family and survival in the wilderness rather than warmongering. Granted, the Tal'verda were still warriors, their boys and girls were still taught how to defend themselves. What differentiated them from the other clad was their desire to keep to themselves rather than spread the Mandalorian Empire.

And there, every stranger was aruetisse. Outsiders.

He grunted at the stranger - his mother always did have less than average company. The boy tilted his head up to meet her gaze for a moment, and mouth something that might have been sorry. It was all she was going to get.

"Hng." He grumbled as he scooped up the cigara butt between two fingers. Lord Cabur sniffed at the discarded trash, and rumbled a deep growl.

If the beast smelled, then Corrin didn't know. He was raised around the creature, and was entirely nose blind to Cabur's scent. He cast a short look over his shoulder - at his mother and her crew, and marched off into the bowels of their ship.

He'd just barely heard of their plan. They were going to raid a ship, or something. He would need to act fast.

The slight young man reached down to scratch Lord Cabur behind his big
floppy ears, and pulled on the strap of his rifle.

Now came the waiting game.





[member="Werdla Dardalab"][member="Zandra Tal'verda"]

 

[Dani Ticon]

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

Lord Cabur was enjoying being pet by the little Mandolorian mortal and he began to purr softly at his touch, normally he preferred his human La but this being was decent enough for the time being. The cat looked up at the little mortal and smiled slightly, rows of jagged fangs showing. As the neon blue and grey stripped cat moved forward he heard the voice of this other ship hailing them. So the cat did what any cat would do when something was coming to potentially harm his domain and property, well he did something ageless beings such as him did. Address and tackle the issue at hand. But that could wait, right now he had some fun to enact with the mortal he was now alone with in the bowels of the ship.


"Ni ganar ratiin ansira ibac sacitr, kapr Ni ganar bic tion'tuur gar ramaanar? Ramaanla technology ganar ratiin cuyir stibutu o'lurja at ni." The cat said in a very rich and sophisticated voice as he spoke in the mandos native tongue.

"Or do you prefer basic? I've always preferred it really, much less barbaric than Mando'a." Furfur said the began to walk and jump up onto a crate.

Furfur, or "Cabur" as he was know as by the crew decided to reveal his little secret to the boy that he was indeed not just a cat. He was something far beyond that, besides who would believe a boy?

 

[Zandra Tal'verda]

The Echani gave [member="Werdla Dardalab"] a rather nasty look when she spoke to her son. Didn't matter how much trouble her son was in. Only she was allowed to yell at her son. Still, she said nothing about it. She whipped her hair around her shoulder and bent over the console.

"Might have a job to do," she responded bluntly, "Might. Y'all got a way of assumin' before we know anythin'. Gun' get yaself killed."

Zandra was in no way the leader here, but she felt a sense of responsibility for these folk. Some of them seemed so... new. At least new to pirating. Didn' matter how antsy they were for action. They had to know when to hold back.

[member="Furfur"] [member="Corrin Tal'verda"][member="Serg Leone"]

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

Lord Cabur must still be on Mandalore. Whatever this...thing was, it wasn't his beloved Strill.

Corrin stumbled back against the bulkhead, and stared daggers down at the cat. His hand went for the hunting knife in his pocket, and remained there as he observed this strange creature.

The boy closed his eyes. He was cursed with a connection to the world. Backow called it the force. His parents only worried about it. Still, it had allowed him to connect to the forest's around his village. He'd honed this innate talent; becoming as much apart of the ecosystem as any predator living within.

He extended that awareness out to this creature. He drew in a sharp breath. This was no Mandalorian beast - nothing he had ever encountered before.

"Ni ka-" He stuttered, and swallowed heavily. "What are you?" He managed in basic. His father's language required concentration on his part. The common tongue would have to do.

"Why are you here?"







[member="Furfur"]

 

[Dani Ticon]

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

Cabur let out a round of rich intelligent chuckles as the cat stretched out on a crate, sighing contently afterwards. The ageless being looked the child up and down with a smile that quite literally stretched from ear to eat, oh how he loved to play with mortals. And as the child extended out his senses towards the creature it would feel like touching a hot lamp, and smelt of sulfur that blanketed the air.

"Well currently I'm a cat, I do love cats." The little kitty purred and looked up at the kid who had taken up a defensive measure against him. The cat simply chuckled again and smiled

"Dear child if I wanted to kill you, do you honestly think we would be having this conversation? I'd rip the flesh from your bones and use your spine as a scratching post. Now relax child." The cat spoke softly and let out a soft meow that sounded far to human.

"Why why why, that's all you mortals wish to know. Never who. But child all information comes at a cost, I simply can not give and expect nothing in return. Knowledge is power after all, what have you to trade?" The cat asked wanting to know what this mortal had that was of value to the ageless being.

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

Nope! Nope, nope, nope. This kind of thing happened far too often.

"I don't have anything." The boy stated plainly. "I just came to see the ship and..." He gave a moment's pause. His gaze fell down on the cat-not-cat, and narrowed. This could be like the ghost wolf, albeit a bit odder than that spirit.

"I asked who you were." He grunted.

"Are there any little ships here? Ships that you could take to escape or something similar?" Corrin lofted a brow, dug into his pocket, and offered two warra nuts. They were his favorite snack, and it would be painful to part with them. "Here."

[member="Furfur"]