Sky's the Neighborhood [Mulokhai]

[Farah]

Bastion was not her home. Still, Farah found that she spent a lot of time on the Empire’s capital. It was the second planet she’d ever been to, making the pilgrimage a solid month after her birth on Khar Delba. She’d been in the company of her creator, Kaine Zambrano then. Everything had been so new and exciting for the clone.

Her eyes weren’t wide anymore. Shortly after she’d synthesized into existence from a proverbial petri dish, Farah became a doctor. She’d been allowed to pursue her interests so long as she stayed loyal to the Zambrano family which gave her the freedom and resources many did not have. That, and it was easier to pursue a single field when your mind wasn’t cluttered with things like…memories.

It still bothered her on some days. Most everyone around her had experienced a certain richness in live and the depth of an important relationship. To Farah they were just concepts.

She couldn’t stay married to science and medicine forever though, as such the Zeltron had been called back to Bastion to begin her flight training. She was not amused but dutiful so long as she was allowed to continue her work on Coruscant.

Farah was wandering around the appointed port, unenthusiastically trying to keep an eye out for the man she was told to meet. [member="Mulokhai Zarandur"], skin as crimson as her hair and bright golden eyes. He was supposedly a Sith Acolyte like herself, though she hardly felt the part. Her Master had informed her that he was a skilled pilot and would be more than capable of instructing her in the basics of flying.

How thrilling.

 

[Mulokhai Zarandur]

Mulokhai Zarandur​

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Location: Bastion Spaceport​

Interacting with: [member="Farah"]​

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How exciting.

Mulokhai leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, the F-34 Flight Suit adorning him, the helmet waiting on a nearby stack of cargo as he glanced up towards the ship he'd been assigned. An Omicron-Class. Well, they certainly weren't wanting to challenge his capabilities or anything. Perhaps after this was done, they could move onto the more advanced lessons, like teaching his student to chew her food.

He couldn't fathom someone in this galaxy, especially in this day and age, surviving to Sith Acolyte without having learned to fly. Of course, that was before he'd done a little digging on his mystery pupil. Zambrano connected, of course. That made more sense. No doubt Vamin had stood up and volunteered him as though they had some loving father-son bond. He'd rather see the stupid old Iktochi thrown into a Sullustan's magma cell and left to rot.

Oh, that was her, over there. At least, he thought so. Pink skin and red hair, right? Zeltron. She looked very familiar, but he couldn't place it at that moment. He stared for a moment, letting her wander for a few more seconds before he stuck his fingers in his mouth and loudly whistled to get her attention, motioning over to himself so she would approach. He stepped off the wall, scooping his flight helmet under his arm as he stepped a bit closer. Hopefully this would be over with quickly. It couldn't be that hard, right? Square peg, square hole. That level of easy. Yes, surely.

 

[Farah]

A sharp whistle caught her attention, head whipping at nearly breakneck speed in the direction of its source. She’d been wearing a default scowl for a while but now it had only deepened.

Red skin. Yellow eyes. Jackass.

Well, maybe not that last one. They haven’t even spoken yet! But Farah liked to think that her Zeltron empathy was on point.

She approached him, not bothering to fake one of those polite smiles she had to use in more genial settings.

“Mulokhai, right?” She looked him over, not even having the grace to hide her discerning eye and sounding nothing short of disappointed. “Perhaps I would do better with a different instructor.” Her face was hard with the same disapproving expression she gave interns. Maybe she was already irritated by the fact that this wasn’t CoreGen and she didn’t have power here. “One who can at least speak Basic.”

[member="Mulokhai Zarandur"]

 

[Mulokhai Zarandur]

Mulokhai Zarandur​

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Location: Bastion Spaceport​

Interacting with: [member="Farah"]​

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A small smirk had slowly begun to grow on his face at seeing the scowl, and her comments only encouraged it.

She seemed to be doing her best 'tough' expression. If he figured right, and perhaps he was wrong, she was probably looking at him the same way she looked at administration staff and lower-ranked officers, perhaps even Sith Legionnaires she happened to pass in the corridor. The thought crossed his mind if she would have made it this far without being a pet project. But, who could assume? Perhaps she'd been through hardships. Him having to teach her what could be considered basic survival in a warring galaxy made him doubt that, though.

"Trust me, I would adore having a different student." His accent was odd, even for here. It wasn't quite Huttese, though aspects of that certainly mixed in. He'd spent a long time perfecting having a distinctive twang to his voice; that way, if he had to disguise it as something more 'normal', it would be easier. "But, if you know right from left, and hopefully you have mastered that by now, you've already exceeded my expectations and we can get this over with."

The Acolyte lifted his arm, motioning to the ramp. "You want to walk up that to get in the ship. Don't mind the suit, just a precaution. I've had a bad enough few days that the last thing I'm getting killed by is some inept flying. We can move onto the first test now, though. Find the cockpit. Don't over-exert yourself."

He decided then he would make no effort to be friendly, even less than perhaps usual. That was the best way for one to learn flying, anyway; she was going to be watching her back for Silver Jedi or Alliance pilots, and they would shoot her down easily if her only practice was a comfortable trip from A to B. He didn't care how irritating she found it, he wasn't going to take the blame for that.

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[Farah]

“Oh, my!” She placed a finger to her lips, face awash with mock surprise. “So he can speak the Dark Lord’s Basic. Exceeding my expectations already, aren’t we.”

Off to a fantastic start.

She made no comment on his accent, not particularly put off by it even if she couldn’t place it. Being born a clone gave her a certain outlook on things and contributed to her lack of prejudice against species or place of origin. Farah respected individual skill and dedication above all else, partially why she tried to disassociate herself from the Zambrano family name. She wanted to be known for her own abilities.

“Oh—this ramp?” She pointed to the only ramp, tilting her head at her instructor with a dumb look.

She went ahead and conquered that challenge, making her way to the cockpit with what she could only consider to be surprising ease.

“That was exhausting.” She huffed. “Can I have a break, please? This is too hard.” She fixed him with a genuinely imploring look.

Meanwhile, she tried to imagine what sort of mix he was and what his biological layout would look like once you peeled back the skin.

[member="Mulokhai Zarandur"]

 

[Mulokhai Zarandur]

Mulokhai Zarandur​

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Location: Bastion Spaceport​

Interacting with: [member="Farah"]​

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Well, that was surprising.

Mulokhai let out a quiet chuckle to himself at her sarcasm, once she'd manage to defeat the task of reaching the cockpit. He followed in after her, moving towards where the controls lay and sat in the co-pilot's seat, spinning towards her as he placed his Flight Helmet on to a nearby holder for it. "This might not be that bad, then. We'll move onto more advanced techniques; pushing buttons."

The Acolyte motioned to the controls, spinning towards them as he began showing the individual mechanisms, and the motion to use them. "There's your repulsorlifts, steering, thruster controls, weapons...power systems are over here. Steering is the easiest part, since you're already a student of walking. If you have questions, ask them now. You have to be able to react on instinct once you're up, not listen to my answers."

Mulokhai glanced back at her, arms now crossed over his chest. "No matter how badly you kark this, and you will, it's the first time, I'm not taking control. The force makes you a better pilot, so I'm sure you can manage to avoid killing yourself with a transport shuttle." He, of course, didn't have enough faith in that to not scoop his helmet back up and start fixing it on his head.

 

[Farah]

Farah’s head tilted to one side, a tendril of scarlet hair coming to rest in front of her face and brushing against her nose. She shifted it over her ear and smoothed out the crown of her head. She tended to keep it tied up while working, unruly as it was so that it wouldn’t get in the way of things.

“I see.” She seemed to be legitimately giving his words attention, eyes sliding around the cockpit and taking in the mass of buttons and levers that made up the control panel.

The Zeltron slipped into the pilot’s seat, hands folded neatly in her lap.

“I intend not to kill us, but for the record let it be said that instructor suffers for the mistakes of the student.”

She’d learned that on both ends. Surgery was a difficult field to break into and it was part of her job to beat down and scrutinize interns as she had been. They made mistakes, hell, one or two of them had resulted in the death of the patient—as cavalier as it seemed, that was the way it went.

Still, they’d set up extra practice with cadavers after that. Can’t make ‘em any more dead at least.

Farah watched him fix the helmet over his head with the vaguest crinkle of amusement in her eyes. Avoid killing herself with a transport shuttle, was it?

“You underestimate my ability to work with death.” She snorted and waved her hand at the control panel.

“Right then…which one is the ‘on’ button?”

[member="Mulokhai Zarandur"]