Private Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

[Rika Hassan]

Some time ago the small ship that Rika had claimed as her own had landed in Coronet's Spaceport. She had taken her things in a hand cart and pawned them off to a fence within the city. It netted her some credits, enough to fuel up the ship, make some repairs and get a place for the night while she waited for her next move. Still, her day was far from over. While most might find themselves in a bar drinking away the rest of their time here, Rika had no need for libations or need for food. Instead, she took what credits she had left and gone to the open-air markets within the city.

She enjoyed shopping, frankly, it was one human thing she could do that felt somewhat normal. She stood at the stall of a second-hand armorer, amber eyes roving over sets of scuffed armors that could fit her with some adjustments. Naturally, she stood out, with her vibrantly tattooed skin and long-dreaded red hair adorned with random trinkets. She wore simple clothing, a leather top, and a skirt that was more sheer fabric than a skirt. Several things say on her hip, one blaster that was far from concealed, and something else that only revealed itself when she moved to lean over the table. A tarnished and scuff lightsaber hilt.

She was in a deep conversation with the human man over an armor set, one that turned heated when a number was given he did not like. Rika scoffed and waved a hand, she called him names and finally he relented with her asking price. Begrudgingly. Rika smirked, looking smug for a moment as the man took the credit chip and gathered the items for her. He walked away to put them in something, which left Rika to continue to stare at the items on the table.

Should she steal?
It was on her mind, written on her face even more so.

Probably shouldn't...

 

[Sæther]

He had been on the planet for a little while now, just wandering with no real purpose. He blew with the solar winds, and for a time now they'd had him deposited on Corellia. He stood out in the well-worn homemade clothing he wears. But what really turned the eye in particular was the large, metal-bladed weapon he carried on his back. A sword, something most used in ancient ceremonies or combat rituals, but never carried day-to-day as anything more than an ornament and status symbol. His looked different; useful, and dangerous. Not the slender dueling blades fine for piercing cloth but useless against true armor.

He would stay back, awaiting his turn to speak with the owner of the shop. Meanwhile his eyes rove around, shaking his head at all the amenities that made life so easy for most. He wasn't taken aback by them or surprised, he'd certainly spent his share of time around modern conveniences. He seemed more amused.

 

[Rika Hassan]

Rika waited for the man to come back, but there was something else pressing on her mind. While she was not one to divert her course just because she could, she did find her growing curiosity pull her in directions she often did not expect. This time it was the man with the well-worn clothing that stood waiting and the object on his back. Everyone she had run into in her life with legs had an air about them, this one was different and Rika was interested.

He saved her the consequences of stealing at least. Turning she would regard the man with the sword. Her amber eyes look him over in this blatant way that wasn't exactly meant to mean anything other than looking at him and taking him in. Her brows furrow, her head cocks to the side.

"What's that?" She asks in regards to the object on his back. Odd that this person had no literal clue what a sword was. At least she was polite enough to step to the side so he could take his turn when the shop owner comes back with her things.

 

[Sæther]

"Its a sword." He would give her a polite smile, then turns his attention to the shop keeper for a moment, passing him a jacket he'd held folded over his arm. There were noticeably scorch marks and a couple of slashes on it, as well as a few spatters of dark liquid that may be blood, though what it may have come from was lost as the color had faded to a mottled brownish color. He'd mention something to the man behind the counter about needing it repaired quickly, then thanks him before turning his attention back to Rika.

"Apologies. It would have been rude to keep a man waiting in his own shop when he could be attending other duties." He'd give a small, solemn bow of his head in an apologetic fashion. "So you have never seen a sword before?"

 

[Rika Hassan]

Rika would take her items rather quickly. Eyeballing the man who sold the armor to her. She wasn't going to start anything here. Instead, she watched the exchange between the man and the shop owner. Her eyes drifted slowly to the jacket that he gives over. She wonders what happened to it to get in such a condition. Violence was her conclusion, coupled with the weapon he had that she knew nothing about. Was he some sort of warrior?

When he turns his attention to her, she steps back just a hair, her brows raising some. "No, I haven't." She admits as she tries to take a peek at it again. "I have seen smaller versions, however. Real small. Never something like that, however. Is it effective?" She asks curiously. "It looks cumbersome."

 

[Sæther]

His hand is at the hilt one moment, the blade is clearing its sheath the next. The move is quick and smooth, revealing the 3' length of phrick. She may not know much about swords, but the martial value of the metal its made of she might be better aware of. "Maybe to someone unpracticed with it, unused to its weight and balance. Certainly heavier than the blades made of light that some carry, but will stand as a match for one any day." Just as quickly as the sword had tasted air, it would just as quickly return to its roost upon his back.

 

[Rika Hassan]

Rika stared at the weapon curiously when he unsheathes it. The metal she knew, and the look of recognition on her face is obvious. "I see." She says, her amber eyes glancing back towards the man when she's done looking at the weapon. "You said blades made of light?" She asks curiously, her head tilting to the side some.

She would unclip the curved hilt of her tarnished and weather-worn lightsaber. The hilt was wrapped in worn leather, and the metal appeared to have been another color at one point as bits of paint still clung to it here and there. "Like this one, yes?" She asks. It sits comfortably in her hand as if made for her. "I have never come in contact with that metal before, not personally. But I have heard of it. If not I might challenge you on that." She says with a grin. Putting her own weapon away she would hold out her hand to him. "My name is Rika by the way."

 

[Sæther]

"I am Sæther, and you would not want to do that." He'd give no grin or subtle sign to indicate he was joking. In fact, the lightsaber in her hand seemed to have made him a touch more tense. Not enough to be too wary to share his name, but still. There was a new hesitance in his stance.

 

[Rika Hassan]

Rika was only slightly observant, noting how he became tense. "I have no intention." She states with all the mirth she could muster when she dealt with foreign situations. Which was hardly any. "Sæther." She repeats his name. "You may call me Rika and it is nice to make your acquaintance." She wasn't good at easing people's worries, it was hard to be that human. The most she could do was be friendly. "Are you from here Sæther?" She asks.