Private Not What I Had In Mind

[Emberlyn Rekali]

She had thought Nar Shaddaa would be more colorful.

Darkened waters splattered up against her boots as she pushed her way through the crowd, following the mechanic towards the hanger bay where her ship - the 'Postcognitor' was housed. A pair of lightsabers were attached to her waist and a wicked looking blaster was slung low on her right thigh. A shawl concealed her hair and her mouth, her eyes covered by beaten goggles that belonged to an XJ pilot kit. She chewed quietly upon a piece of stimgum as they came upon the hanger door, the mechanic began to speak in a different language - one that Ember figured was Jawaese. She tried to follow him as he motioned under her ship and around, possibly insulting or complimenting the mechanics work and the pristine condition of the vessel. She interrupted him abruptly, stepping infront of him, holding both hands out.

"Wait, slow down." She got the gist of it, something about outdated fuel regulator. Ember sighed and gestured with a hand. "And where can I get it?" The mechanic looked down at his pad, and then to Ember, pointing to himself proudly.

Ember nodded "Only you have it..."

She looked around for a moment, glancing over the ship. Something didn't feel right about it, almost a nagging feeling in her gut. With a shrug she gestured again. "How much?" The Jawa. which she presumed it was at this point, seemed elated and excited about the prospect of being able to haggle and make a deal - that was almost never in the favor of the non-Jawa. The mechanic began to rummage around in his pack, producing a new looking fuel regulator, with fresh fuel dripping from one end. Ember blinked a few times as he babbled off the price.

"Why is it so expensive?" She questioned.

He went on about "rarity" and "uniqueness". Describing the vessel he had acquired it from as a pristine mechanical wonder, almost describing her ship to a T.

Ember nodded. "Sounds like they got good taste." She flipped open her satchel and pulled out a handful of credits. She reached out and placed the small pile in his outstretched hand. "Also enough to put it in the ship." The mechanic took the credits quickly and stuffed them away, gesturing and yammering on about how she received a 'good' deal. Ember nodded swiftly. "Ok, I'll be back soon then - heading into town for a drink." She gave a quick, two-finger salute before departing the hanger, blending into the crowd of people moving around the streets. It was her first time amongst so many people, an overwhelming sensation to say the least. She was elated to be able to explore the Galaxy now, and find out what happened to her Mother, as well as the real history of her family.

She would stop and stare in awe as speeders sped through the skies above on some invisible track, the overwhelming smells hitting her senses with brute force. A being would bump into her harshly, muttering in an alien language. It was enough to cause Ember to snap back to reality, shaking her head as she moved down the street towards the 'Contented Krayt', a small cantina with vibrant music and diverse atmosphere. She looked at the sign briefly before stepping inside and finding a nice place to sit and order a drink. As she walked through the Cantina, she would get an occasional glance or a stare...probably because of the lightsabers. Nevertheless, she'd press forward and slide into a dimly lit booth, making herself as comfortable as she could before a service droid approached.

"Welcome to the Contented Krayt, what can I get ya?" It spoke in a rather direct tone.

Ember looked up and nodded. "Yeah, I'd just like some Blue Milk - spiked with Corellian rum."

"Alright, it'll be right out." The droid punched a few buttons causing a drink to pop up from the center of the table. Ember reached out taking the drink and tossing some credit chits on the table. With wonderment, she'd stare - waiting for the table to take the credits, ignoring the outstretched hand of the droid. Ember blinked a few moments later, looking up to the droid and then to the table. "OH! I thought I gave the credits to the table and they'd eat them up." She chuckled softly and picked up the credits, handing them over to the droid. "Sorry."

The droid scoffed and took the credits from her, swerving around and going to serve the next table.

Ember sat back, pulling the shawl free from her face and head, dropping the cloth around her neck. She picked up the drink and raised it to no one before taking a sip. Her face went from delight, to horror within a blink of an eye as she calmly set down the bitter drink, swallowing the remaining liquid in her mouth - harshly. She coughed and gagged, hoping the flavor would dissipate. With a groan, she flopped back into the booth, sighing with disappointment.

Her first drink wasn't what she thought it would be.

Jannik Morlandt​

 

[Jannik Morlandt]

THE RECOVERING HERMIT
THE CONTENTED KRAYT - NAR SHADDAA
Emberlyn Rekali

Nar Shaddaa was hardly the place anyone would expect to find a Jedi without sufficient reason, which also made it a reasonable place to not be one. Or rather, to espouse the image of something else, as he had been doing for… well, he couldn’t rightly put a finger on precisely when he’d stopped wearing robes, but it had been gradual. In a lot of cases it was prudent to not stick out like a sore thumb, which was exactly the situation in a realm that embraced crime.

Even as close as it was to the relatively peaceful holdings of the Silver Concord. He wasn’t here to play the part of an investigator, problem-solver, or vigilante. He was here at no behest of anyone, not even himself; only the insistence spouted by the empyrean had brought him here, to this cantina, and this darkened corner. Only it had pulled him off of the trail to his next destination.

Or perhaps it was simply a stop along the way.

The half-Vahla looked up from his writings, in a mere scrap of the moment before she walked in. Wrapped a hand around the pint, lifted it, and drew long from it. Not so much watching her, as being aware. He replaced the empty vessel on the tabletop, and went back to ostensibly minding his own business.

But his sight never lowered while he jotted down a handful or two of further words, before the service droid eventually came around to him, having noticed his empty glass.

“Are ya done, or…?”

He lifted his head again and tapped the empty pint glass. “Another, if you would, and…” he quickly looked back down, wrote out some words in a bottom corner of the page, then tore the scrap from the nearly full sheet, and handed it to the droid, “...that as well.”

“Okay, just a moment.”

He fished credit chits out from his satchel, both for the ale and the Phattro, while the droid punched in the order at his table. A fresh pint of ale appeared, and the credits were deposited in the droid’s hand - the half-Vahla pressed his directive with the contact of his fingertips with the droid’s hand - while it took the empty glass with its other. A couple of minutes later, the droid would appear at the violet-eyed girl’s booth again, and punch in another order. A glass of ice and purple liquid appeared in the centre of her table.

“Another guy says…” the droid referred to the scrap of paper, then left said scrap on the table top. “...‘you might like it better.’”

The droid went on its way again. The note said:

‘To the Disappointed Blue Milk Lass,

Have a glass of Phattro. You might like it better. My treat.

-Jan’

But if she were to touch the scrap of paper, she might find it infused with the feeling of profound limitlessness, wrapped in steady lightness.

 

[Emberlyn Rekali]

Jannik Morlandt

"Another guy says…" the droid referred to the scrap of paper, then left said scrap on the table top. "...'you might like it better.'"

The droid went on its way again. The note said:

'To the Disappointed Blue Milk Lass,

Have a glass of Phattro. You might like it better. My treat.

-Jan'

Emberlyn looked at the note, the drink and then the man. Her violet eyes would gaze back to the note, taking heed of the sensation that rippled through the Force when her fingers grazed the gritty paper. Her gaze shifted back up to him, nodding softly as she took a few sips and hummed with approval. It was a fruity drink, one of purple-ish hue. It tasted like a perfected combination of Tattooine desert pear and some lemonade she couldn't quite tell where it was from. Without much of a word or fanfare, she rose with the drink in hand and made her way over to his table. She'd slide in across from him, setting the drink down upon the table, along with the note. She gently slid the parchment back over to him and spoke up without skipping a beat.

"Paper isn't something I can say I expected to see out here."