Private Some Nights

[Drifter]

Rhea

[ Ever played shock ball? ] came Alex's seductive retort, the droid's singular blue ocular zooming in and out towards the brunette's direction.

[ I hear that it is quite stimulating.] she was, of course making a jab at the chances of Rhea getting some shock treatment of her own. Maybe that would help her build some manners.

The scent of fresh caf would drift like a tempting dark cloud from the galley. Of course, a flask was already brewing there. No Drifter in sight, however. A few more minutes of investigation and Rhea could find him in the cockpit. Fully clothed and still wearing that helmet. Oh, and already fed.

 

[Rhea]

Rhea dropped heavily into the seat besides him, cradling the unexpected cup of prepared cafe. She made a grunt of gratitude, still not warmed up to gestures of... consideration.

She shot him a side-look, tipping the bitter contents into her mouth. An eye roll redirected her attention to the console, the woman taking it upon herself to skim for location details. "You could land there," she offered, gesturing to an unconsidered quadrant in a scummier section. "Cheaper. More crowded but-- closer to boot."

Drifter

 

[Drifter]

Rhea

[ And likely require all my security systems to be online. ] Drifter would joke, offering a chuckle as he gave a slight inclination of his helm at Rhea's direction in greeting.

[ Sleep well, Pittin? Or are you just generally in a grunty mood until after you had your cup of caf?] the quips would never cease, it seemed when it came to the man.

[ That's spot is as good as any. Should be there in fifteen. You need to check in with anyone first?] he inquired, wanting to know what to expect. It was one thing to help her out, another if he had to risk getting the Kalee blown up. Well, to be fair, you already risked that... he told himself wryly, but choosing to ignore the hypocrisy of that.

 

[Darth Daiara]

"Nope." She popped the p, saying nothing further. Perhaps if she had had someone to check in with he wouldn't have found her as he did. But he had, and she was going in dry, no way around that. She frowned into her cup, watching as he rerouted them to the lot.

"You know, this was suppose to be a suicide mission," she stated, clearly going somewhere with the thought. She left him hanging through, her brows developing a slight wrinkle. Something didn't sit right with this. Faced with sleep and a fresh cup of cafe, the picture had started to crystalize. It wasn't pretty.

 

[Rhea]

"Nope." She popped the p, saying nothing further. Perhaps if she had had someone to check in with he wouldn't have found her as he did. But he had, and she was going in dry, no way around that. She frowned into her cup, watching as he rerouted them to the lot.

"You know, this was suppose to be a suicide mission," she stated, clearly going somewhere with the thought. She left him hanging through, her brows developing a slight wrinkle. Something didn't sit right with this. Faced with sleep and a fresh cup of cafe, the picture had started to crystalize. It wasn't pretty.

Drifter

 

[Drifter]

Rhea

[ well any mission would be a suicide if one went in without a plan or recon. ] the wry reply was a pointed reference towards Rhea’s rather half patched original plan to simply storm in the Squib bunker by herself.

[Either way, you completed the job.] he told her, rolling his shoulders as he settled in to instruct K1-7 on the location.

[Oh Kit meet Rhea, Rhea meet Kit.] introductions were set with a mere wave at the direction where the piloting droid controlled the flight path of the ship.

The cockpit had five seats, not including where Kit was set in front of the main piloting console. There was a co pilots seat for a co pilot, but clearly the controls bore little wear and tear. Drifter hadn’t lied. He did not fly.

[ Greetings, young Miss. Welcome. ] well Kit was far more friendly than Alex it seemed.

 

[Rhea]

Rhea raised a brow.

"You are such a core wordler," she stated brashly, no shame to the blunt amusement she took from his circumstance.

"My point, being," she started, turning pointedly from the droid she did not acknowledge. "If they didn't expect me to make it out..." The words were hard to form, the growing suspicion feeling paranoid, even for her.

She shook her head, his earlier taunt making her think twice before diving down any rabbit hole. Seemed his words had more of an affect than she let on. She sighed, her shoulders slumping as she kicked up her feet.

"Guess we'll just find out-- you really dont even fly yourself around?" She asked incredulously.

 

[Drifter]

Rhea

A heavy snort came from under the helm he word. His shoulders gave a smug, half-amused roll, and his head gave just a slight cant to the right to relay the wryness in his tone, modularized voice or not.

[ What? I told you I don't fly! ] he sang, the muscles of his back and arm rippling under his armor as he leaned back in his comfortable chair, tucking his hand behind his head with all the carefree attitude in the 'verse.

[ I see no wrong in letting Kit do what he does best! ] he continued, bringing his dusty boots up to stretch out his legs, setting them on top of the edge of the console. All in all, he was well pleased with himself.

As for Rhea's musings, Drifter gave another shrug and simply said, [ Maybe they did. Maybe they didn't. I doubt there were many other options. You managed to do one thing, so that's that. Why fret on what might come next? ]

Was that more for Rhea or for me? A voice would nag at the rear of his mind. He tried to shrug it off. [ If you are that worried about it then plan for plan Besh, Cresh, and then Cherek.]

It was his way of saying, start thinking for yourself then.

 

[Rhea]

"What?" Rhea shot back, a bit of morning agitation to her tone. It was too early to be cryptic. Or perhaps late.

What time was it?

She rubbed at her face, shaking her head in an attempt to get herself on straight. "It'll be fine," she dismissed, a sense of blithe faith in the concept as it got a little too complicated to fuss out. Someone was use to simply taking orders and not asking questions. A lifetime of being told what to do sure had a way of stamping the individuality out of a person.

The learned habit clearly hadn't been serving Rhea well.

"...What will you do?" She murmured from around her cup. "After this."

Drifter

 

[Drifter]

His amused snort resonated within the cockpit at her half-awake confusion. Clearly, she wasn't a morning person. Or more aptly, had all her gears ready to turn as soon as she woke up from her slumber.

[ There is more caf if you need it, ] he told her, using his singular hand to jut a thumb back towards the direction of the galley. [ Or if you are feeling frisky, some energy drinks. ] he offered, settling in more comfortably within the well-worn, plushy confines of his chair. It was easy to see that it was high-grade, black leather. The more one would look about the ship, its commodities, and the vast amount of collection of personal items and artifacts, one could well assume that the cock-sure Drifter had money.

[Me?] He echoed, his helm canting to the right. Considering. Were they still playing their game or was it too early and would it go over Rhea's head? Starting up into her sleepy eyes with tiny little crusts at the corners, a slight wrinkle of an imprint on one cheek, and her sable hair half mused, he internally chuckled and decided to go easy on her.

[ Get a job. Make some credits. ]

From behind them, Alex's sensual voice would call out.

[ Check your comm messages! ]

It was a good thing that Drifter had his helm, or the annoyance would show through. It was a direct reference to reading the comm messages sent by his family. They were close-knit and going too long without answering them or sending messages back was enough to get anyone riled up. He'd sent a few out earlier, but had been struggling with the guilt of everything to check back on them. He should do that. He had thought about it earlier. It was time.

[ Yeah yeah, okay I'll do that today -- mother. ] he called out, his modulated voice heavy with sarcasm.

 

[Rhea]

Rhea's lips quirked, sensing the annoyance despite the mask. The longer she was around him, the easier it became to read beyond the blank slate that was that visor. She didn't realize she was doing it, but she responded to the sensation all the same.

"Girlfriend wondering where you are?" It was a gentle tease, less intense and probing than their previous games. She really was just talking to him now, the cup warming inside her hands as they circled over the city, the wash of brown structures nearly as unchanging as the desert itself.

 

[Drifter]

Another amused snort, followed quickly by the arrogant, if devilish modulated timbre, [ That's the third time you've asked about my status, Pittin. Sure you ain't trying to fish for more than that answer? ] he joked, his shoulders rising and falling in notable mirth.

Had he'd no helm to hide his features, Rhea would have been able to see the twinkle in his citrine eyes, that roguish grin cocking upwards, pearly white teeth flashing against that backdrop of a scruffy tanned visage.

Too bad. So sad. Gotta keep 'em guessing. This particular game had become too entertaining to give up on it.

 

[Rhea]

Rhea rolled her eyes, turning to survey the view port instead. Words sat on the tip of her tongue, heavy and held back.

They had worked together-- hell, nearly died together. In her book that bought them a bit more transparency than ... well, either of them were giving. Her features crinkled ever so slightly, the woman realizing the discrepancy of old expectations and this situation. For a moment it bothered her. Greatly. The hole in her chest felt that much more pronounced, aching as she found herself faced with wanting something that she had no right to. One night of comradery earned her nothing in the way of this man's whole life. Just like it earned him nothing of hers.

She let out a heavy breath, then swallowed it back.

"Nope," she answered, popping the p. The internal berating had occurred in mere seconds, no shift in her mood as she braced her coffee against sloshing's as they decelerated.

She turned, giving him a tight smile.

"Not into helmets. The smudges," she gestured vaguely, standing as they approached the airstrip.

 

[Drifter]

Well, she was turning into a pensive stack of thoughts, Drifter mused, observing her body language with no shame. Reading her like a book. It wasn't fair, really, just how much information Rhea was radiating out and how the skills given to him by his mother allowed him to take advantage of that.

Guilt crept along his spine. It was icy cold and damp. Like when ice water managed to find its way inside of your boots.

A long, sigh of surrender, and the man gave a slight gesture as if to say, fine fine.

[ I've been avoiding family. Alex is just reminding me that I need to read and respond before they decide to chase me down themselves. ] He shruged. It was the truth but the way he said it might make it appear as if it was not. Rhea could take it or leave it.

[ An there ain't nuthin' wrong with helmets. The Mandalorians turned it into an entire culture. As did the Kaleesh, the Ubese, and hell, I guess you can even say the Imperials. ] one, two, three, and four fingers would fly up, wiggling as ticked off examples.

 

[Rhea]

Rhea head cocked in shock, a brow raised. If she was moody, he was mysterious.

She could drop emotional shifts on the dime of the hat and he, somehow, met them with odd reveal of his own. She rocked back on her heels, unsure how to respond. The final hard yank of deceleration had her sitting hard in the seat, a splash of coffee staining his sister's tunic. She looked down, patting it out with a curse.

"What, did you read their minds too much and now they're mad?" Came the soft accusation, both meant to defuse his words and probe for a deeper understanding.

Not her business, sang the voice inside her head. This was not how you did clean goodbyes.

 

[Drifter]

Rhea

A sarcastic snort erupted anew, [ Hah! ] he cried out, rolling his eyes within the helm.

[Please, half of them don't require any provoking to try and assert dominance and punch me out. The other half is your typical hover copter parents. ] He gestured, and while his words may seem harsh, they were relayed with a token of affection.

Okay, so maybe that first bit held a bit of a lie to it. More often than naught, Drifter had a tendency of trying to pull his sister's proverbial pigtails to get a reaction out of them.

[Just family responsibilities. Check-in. Say you're alive. Make sure you're home for Life Day. The usual. ] came another unconcerned gesture, the man taking his right foot and swinging it over his left on his perch.

Comfy is as comfy does.

A quick glance at the nav console let him know that they were about five minutes out.

 

[Rhea]

"How horrible," Rhea sympathized, definitely no sarcasm to her tone.

She yawned, shaking her head a final time and looking more alert for it. She followed his glance to the console, a spark of adrenaline hitting her as the time became known.

"Are you going to?" She asked, abrupt and rather fierce as she turned back his way. "Message them back?" There was an edge in her eyes, a thing that grew more prevalent as they grew closer to landing.

 

[Drifter]

Rhea

Was this really about him contacting his family or her getting all anxious about the drop? Trying to read her when she was swinging one way to the next like a pendulum took a bit more to untangle.

[ Are you? ] he shot back, eyebrow arching high under his helm, tossing back a probing question as he had yet to ask one in turn.

 

[Rhea]

"What?" Came the disoriented response.

"What do I care about your family drama, it's your life. I don't even know you." She clipped, as if her words didn't directly clash with the past 24 hours of ask n tell they had been playing. Never mind the fact that she asked him.

She pulled her bag from around her back, making an effort of fussing with it and checking the straps were secure. She seemed balancing between a dramatic display of indifference and that same bity sharpness he had been greeted with when they first met. They clocked clicked down to 4, the lines in her expression returned.

 

[Drifter]

That resulted in a bark of laughter. Guess she didn't pick up what I dropped, he thought to himself, his earlier comment intending to shoot back a question of if she was going to message her own family.

[ So sayeth the woman inquiring about my comm messages, relationship status, and family not three seconds ago. ] he gave an uninterested shrug, mildly amused but not so concerned that he would take affront to her words.

[ Right, best get your gear then and what you need. ] he'd remind her quietly. [ Fretting and choking the hell out of my caf mug ain't gonna do you any favors. ]

Rhea