Someone Else's Problem

[Alndys]

Pirates generally work by being quick and effective. They fall upon their prey like a plague, take everything they can, and leave before somebody -the law, a jedi, the rare warden - can do anything about it.

So it's easy to conclude that the band of brigands who had descended upon a cargo ship named Afterthought, bound for Trevel'ka, were in something of a hurry. The battle had been quick and bloody, brutal, and the end result of it was a ruined, gutted cargo vessel... and a half destroyed pirate craft, ruined by some idiot's itchy trigger finger and a single thermal detonator. Only the Force knew now if it'd been one of the pirates, or one of the crew of the cargo ship they were getting busy all up on.

And, lest we forget, one survivor, wandering the wreckage of both. He was filthy, lean with starvation, clutching a half-drained bottle Whyren's Reserve as he wandered amidst the blaster-burned corridors like a particularly morose and drunken ghost. He had substances to spare to ease his pain, the ship had been carrying all manner of fun drugs and pharmecuticals to help the needful and poverty-stricken throngs of Trevel'ka... but what little food had been on board had mostly been incinerated in the battle, or ripped out into the vacume by the same explosion that'd devastated the flanks and ruined the escape pods. "Jus my luck." Olan spat, wasting valuable energy to viciously kick the skull of some hapless bastard down the hall towards the pile of bodies he'd spent his first week making. They were well on the way past ripe at this point, filling the air with the thick, sickly-sweet aroma of corruption and desiccation.


The smell turned his stomach in a dizzy circle - what power remained in the wreck of the Afterthought had been diverted to the life support and sealing off the intact portions of the craft, but the beleagured air filters hadn't been able to keep up with the decay of the conflict. Now, all they did was sputter and unhappily stir the air, which grew colder and colder with each passing hour. Day. Cycle? Olan couldn't keep track anymore. Wasn't sure that he wanted to. He'd stopped bothering to try and gauge the passage of time around two weeks in.



"It's called Trevel'ka, Arr-nine," Chloe told the astromech droid as she went flopping onto her piloting chair, letting the plush well-worn leather envelop her petite form, boots rising up to perch upon the piloting console of the Aurora Hawk, patrolling a small section just within Lord of the Fringe space. Why? Well, call it curiosity. Then again, the past year or so has seen the Omega Protectorate and Fringe dancing with each other with the odd skirmish here and there, leading up to a straight up attempt at an invasion at the latter. Things were definitely interesting.

A pear in hand, Chloe idly studied it for a quiet moment. A series of beeps and a hoot came in curiosity just behind her. Chloe's nose gave a slight wrinkle, "Well.. yes... But the chances of running into him again are low," she told him, giving a small sigh.

A low dejected hoot came after. "Me too bud,” she said with a faint melancholy smile. That’s when her sensors lit up like the proverbial life-day tree. Tucking her feet off the console, Chloe sat up straighter in her chair, frowning slightly. Not a second later alarm shot through her face at the realization. It was a distress signal. Transponder codes dubbed her as the Afterthought. She wasn’t too far off, certainly within comm range. Warden instincts immediately took over.

Quickly, her hand shot up above her head, where her fingers went curling around a small black comm box. A flip of toggles and a turn of the comm frequency, the Warden soon began to transmit the following.

“Afterthought, this is the Aurora Hawk. Ya’ll doing alright there?”




A crackle, a distant pop and hiss of the Afterthought's barely-there comm array. Got a moment, Olan was convinced he was losing what was left of his mind, and decided to ignore the voice for fear of looking stupid.

But who was alive to look stupid for?

That thought rattled around his drug-addled and starved mind for a moment, and before he knew it, Olan was in motion... flying across the bulkhead as fast as his legs would take him. Desperation battled with fatigue, and for one heady moment he was sure that he was just going to keel over and slam his face into the bulkhead, but somehow he remained upright.

The control console confirmed that he wasn't hearing things, and some womans' voice echoed through three half-destroyed ship for a moment before Olan could find his voice. "T-this is th' Afterthou'! Come in!" His voice was a tragic hybrid of relieved sob and hysterical laughter. "Afterthou' to... whoever y'are. Do y'read? Are y'real, luv?"



"As real as the kiss of the Corellian sun, Afterthought." came the crackled reply.


"What's your status?" she asked, for the hysterical sound of the stranger's voice was enough for the Warden to start adjusting course for the cargo ship. "What you be needing?"

The Aurora was a pretty decent sized ship, with an adequate medbay. However, she'll need to get a grasp on just what she was tackling.



"I...I'm th' only one left." Olan gasped, pulling at his bloodied and ragged hair as though doing so might wake him from this sweet dream where somebody had heard the wreck's distress signal. Rescue! After a month of a slow, rotting, starving hell, could salvation really be at hand? "We got ambushed - pirates waitin' fer us t' drop outta warp."

"Please, I'm... not doin' too good here." Olan admitted bleakly. "Nothin' to eat but pills an..."

He paused, glancing behind himself needlessly. Hungry ghosts, hobbling about on single legs, danced at the edges of his vision. "...Nigh'mares." Olan croaked miserably, wincing as he forced himself to turn his attention back to the console.

@[member="Chloe Blake"]

 

[Chloe Blake]

@[member="Olan Black"]
Chloe took a deep breath, but this was no news to her. In the wake of the Gulag virus and the farther out into the wilds of space, such scenes were prevalent for ships traveling alone.

To be frank, pirates were not the real threat -- no they were a blessing compared to what the Bando Gora Reavers had done to their victims. He was lucky.

She heard the panic, the wildness and desperation in his voice. Turning to the astromech, she said "Arr-Nine, go get the medbay ready, gonna have some company." she told him, before she activated the comm once more.

"Afterthought, Don't you worry none now, heading on over. " a pause then an question, "What's your name? I'm Chloe." she had to keep him talking, to get him to focus. It was the best way to have him calm down.

 

[Alndys]

@[member="Chloe Blake"]

There was a chair. Obviously. It sat by the console, was fancy dewback leather, and had an amazing view of space. Clearly, the captain had loved that chair, and it still bore the vague imprint of her body. Sitting in it made Olan feel like an imposter, and he wouldn't have bothered if his legs would have supported him a moment longer. His stomach didn't even bother to grumble anymore - he'd read primers and such about how starvation affected a man's body, and in the darker corners of his imagination, thought he could feel his muscles being broken down for needed nutrients and calories. Like an acid. Like his blood was stomach acid, his body was a stomach and it was eating everything that wasn't already-

Blink. Segfault. Start over, Olan.

Man. They hadn't been shipping any lightweight nonsense to Trevel'Ka, had they? And he thought the vision-swimming had been a pain to deal with. Now his mind wanted to run in every direction at once, and damned if it wasn't going to do exactly as it pleased whether or not he allowed it. No, he had to focus. Sleeping would mean death, sleeping would allow the crippled ghosts to catch up with him, and if they did? Bre'r Wookie might want his leg back with interest. Focus on her voice, stay awake. Get off the ship.

"Olan Black. Crewman. At yer service." Olan reported in a groggy voice. "Hanger bay's half destroyed, cannae seal it up. Dunno how yer gonna get on this ship, Chloe."

Maybe she'd just shown up to watch him die.

 

[Chloe Blake]

@[member="Olan Black"]
"Well mighty fine pleasure to meet you Olan," came her Corellian drawl through the comm. It would be another five minutes before she'd arrive at the dead floating Afterthought, so she made conversation to keep his attention.

So the Hanger bay was destroyed. Alright. Good thing she had that universal Force cylinder. Made things mighty handy for these types of situations. "Don't you worry none, I got my ways to get to where you at." came her encouraging voice.

"You hurt anywhere? You able to stand on your own two feet?" she asked him, needing to know exactly just what she'll be facing in regards to providing him first aide.

 

[Chloe Blake]

@[member="Olan Black"]
"Yeah. Yeah, I can stand." Olan decided, glancing down at his shaking knees. Force almighty, he was hungry. His legs had to work properly, he reminded himself. If they did, he'd be able to live. To eat.

"Got some radiation burns across my back. Minor ones." He added for good measure, standing up slowly. "Where d'ya need me to be, luv."

"Well then that's already winning half the battle," Chloe told him with notable cheer to try and keep the Olan positive. Mentally, she was tabulating what she would need to do to mend the radiation burns. She wasn't a healer of the likes of the Jedi Circle, but she had some knowledge here and there.

"Lesse... as to where I need you," the Aurora slowly maneuvered it's way towards the trade ship, and it was clear to see that pirates had done a mighty fine number on the cargo vessel. A quick scan saw a flat area round portside where she'd be able to use the force cylinder to get inside.

"Coming round you to portside, looks like one of the upper decks if'n that style of boat hasn't changed since my last review of it's model." she told him, her hands guiding the Aurora in place. The Force cylinder would be next, along with the work to be done to break through the hull and gain entry.

"Shouldn't be too long, Olan," she told him with a lighthearted air, attempting to keep his spirits up. "'Sides, been a long while since I've had company. Got a bottle of Whyren's that would be mighty fine to pop open and share."

 

[Alndys]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

Ooof. She was offering whiskey? Nut just any whiskey, either, but Whyren's Reserve. Olan wasn't sure if he should scream profanities at her or start looking for a wedding band. He wasn't entirely sure he had the strength for either. Leaning on the console, he wracked his poor brains for a decent idea of which portside deck she was talking about before realizing it didn't matter. He'd find it, then he'd get off this ghost ship.

"Sounds like a date, luvvy." Olan replied with a weary smile. "I'll make m'way over there now. Fair warnin', I might raid your fridge first." He chuckled, before cutting the comm.

It was all he could do to not run. The air was still thin, his legs were weak, overdoing it would likely mean collapsing. No, Black, take it slow and steady. No hurry. The lovely Angel with her food and whiskey wasn't in a hurry, so there wasn't any need to fall on your face and make an ass of yourself.

The moment the Force tube was connected, though, a malnourished and haggard Olan hurried his way across. The less time spent among the dead and rotting, the better.

 

[Chloe Blake]

[member="Olan Black"]

"Hold you to it, Olan," she shot back, trying to sound encouraging while all the while she was busy doing what needed to get done. She wasn't sure what manner of situation she might find him in, but it was for sure that he was hurtin mighty bad.

Minutes seemed to be hours, but before she knew it her hands went wrapping round Olan's malnourished lanky frame. "Hang on, I gotcha." said the Warden, the cloud of stink and death rising up to wrap round her. She minded it none, bracing his weight against her as she began to lead him along, sliding his left arm round her shoulders, the slight jingle of her pocketwatch mingling round the unsteady tattoo of their footsteps.

"Easy... easy..." Chloe told him, flashing an encouraging grin through a fringe of long soft blonde locks. Her fingers would curl over the fabric of his shirt, and she could feel the bones of his ribs. He was in a bad state. Very bad state.

"Med-bay ain't too far from here... watch your step now."

 

[Alndys]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

"What a state ahm in..." Olan chuckled bitterly, as the cute little blonde flocked to his side to support him like he was some manner of invalid old man. Old, he wasn't - but in this particular occassion, he supposed that invalid might apply. "Just at th' finish line, and I'm about ready to give up." He wouldn't. He couldn't. A part of him wanted to - but the man clung to life with considerable tenacity. Considering that tenacity had carried a good-for-nothing son into being a good-for-nothing Jedi washout and then a good-for-nothing hired hand, he might conclude that that tenacity was, rather than a laudable trait, rather good for nothing at all.

As much as he resented himself for needing it, the support was appreciated. Olan held onto Chloe's shoulder as tightly as his emaciated frame would allow and, once they'd arrived at the medbay of a ship, carefully lay down on a table with a relieved groan and a muted, self-depreciating grin. "Didn' know they sent Diathim all the way out here." He joked, half aware of what was going on. "Don't s'pose you'd mind if I saved that Whyren's 'till I'm a more fit t'enjoy it, Chloe?"

 

[Chloe Blake]

Chloe shot [member="Olan Black"] a wry grin, hands still at his shoulders to ease him back on the cot. " I 'spose I can be so accommodating, Mistah Black." she told him, her eyes running down his length already to take stock of him.

"DOT, take care of that Force cylinder back there!" she would call over her shoulder to the astromech droid. A mutter of protesting and then subsequent concession would echo down the corridor. He was quite a little fiesty thing.

"He's just a bit ornery," she'd say, flashing a smile back over to Olan in an attempt to keep him focused on her. Her hair would fall over her shoulder as she went leaning over him, tips brushing his grimy shirt as she went grabbing an overhead scanner to adjust it so over his body. Once she had some diagnostics she could get some hydration back in his body along with some nutrition.

"But he grows on ya. " she'd continue, pressing buttons as the hum of the medical scanners would go sweeping over him. "So where you from?"

 

[Alndys]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

Olan attempted to sit up a bit, but that wasn't going to happen. An object at rest now had to STAY at rest, apparently no matter how uncomfortable laying down while this woman bustled about was. With a quiet groan, he closed his eyes. "Corellia." He replied a moment later, almost bitterly. "Never spent much time there. Y'know 'ow it is. Life 'as a way of keepin' a lad busy." Did he even remember his parents? Of course. Could he pick them out of a lineup? Most likely not. Now THERE was a sad thought, but one for another day. He had survival to focus on. Staying alert. Could people die if they fell asleep and were as malnourished as him? Olan didn't know, and he wasn't taking any chances.

It seemed that the charitable woman was in posession of a saucy droid - wasn't that a laugh? Usually, these sorts of things went the other way 'round. But the Droid's antics got a small smirk out of him, as he opened his eyes. "...what's th' damage, Doc?"

 

[Chloe Blake]

[member="Olan Black"]
Come and get your love

"Bey tio tia? Nu Valle Bey Ehin guld man. Minmin Bey el Ihn mallranta farmi foriru Coronet, Minmin." «Is that so? Well you are in good hands. I'm from a small farm off Coronet, myself. » Olys Corellisi would flow out of her mouth in a soft comforting drawl, her hands working the medscanner over him.

It didn't look good. He was severely dehydrated and the drugs did a number on his vitals. She had to stabilize him and get fluids in him quick. A sedative would help, but she just wasn't sure how well that would fare with what he already had in his system.

She set the scanner down, sending a comforting smile down at him. A few steps and the sound of locked drawers being opened would come next. Then a small dermaneedle would appear in her hand. Thick blonde hair would fall over her shoulder as she'd start to lift up his sleeves.

"Nenio Minmin Doko ne manpren. Jusha apoli--- apoli nun Olan. Minmin havil Valle. " «Nothing I can't handle. Just rest --- rest now Olan. I gotcha.» A hand would stroke and run through the ink of his tuffs of hair. There after, she'd get to work. IV went in with a saline solution and then came the time sensitive part of getting him stabilized.

 

[Alndys]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

The sound of a man's mother tongue, spoken in sweetness and comfort, is bound to have a profound effect. Mumbling something to the effect of 'small galaxy', Olan closed his eyes and let the weight of survival slip slowly from his shoulders - he was safe, at last. There would be food, there would be warmth, and that was more than enough for a wayward son of nowhere. For once, it was enough.

A blissful smile as Olan fell asleep under Chloe's watchful protection. Tomorrow would be better.


And it was better. The day after was better even than that - each day, a bit of Olan's strength returned. Would he ever be as fit as he'd once been? Perhaps not, insofar as his kidneys were concerned, but he stood a good chance. After a couple days, he was able to keep down solid food. So he did, with great enthusiasm! If it was possible for a single man to put a nutrient dispenser under duress, Olan likely came quite close. As soon as he was able, he was on his feet and exploring the ship - and learning more about the woman who'd become his savior.

Far from a skilled engineer or fighter, Olan was nevertheless a dab hand at any number of miscellaneous tasks, and set about making himself useful however he could - performing maintenance on Chloe's ship and droids, keeping things tidy, retrieving boxes from high shelves; a sort of poor man's occupational therapy.


One thing that Olan had discovered a passion for was cooking -though was still struggling past 'basic competence'. It isn't unusual for people who've had mortal brushes with starvation to begin viewing food as something nearly sacred, after all - and Olan was hardly an exception to that. It'd taken him a couple days to find out how Chloe liked her eggs, and the better part of a week to figure out how to prepare them properly. The end result was with it.

A month later found Olan nearly back to his old self, of a sort. His ribs no longer visible, the lean muscle of a skinny kid grown into a hard worked man had returned, along with the mildly swarthy complexion of his particular brand of Corellia. Both were on display as Olan be-bopped his way around the ship's canteen shirtless, a worn pair of jeans hanging perilously from his hips as he sang to an old song.

A flick of his wrist sent a hotcake spinning into the air - most of his credit went towards food, where he didn't try to foist it on his blonde savior. "Geddit t'gevur, if y'wan some, take some~" Olan cheerfully crooned to what he assumed was an audience of none, the low orbit they were keeping over Kothliss giving a superb view from the ship's port screens, the scent of sweet Correllian brown sugar filling the air.

 

[Chloe Blake]

[member="Olan Black"]

Be-bopping on behind him with the smooth transition of an Ortolan ensemble, Chloe's melodic voice joined in for the ragtag singing. Granted, she was no Coruscanti celebrity, but she held her own with gusto charm. She slid in barefoot, with her golden hair still mused from slumber. Her cheeks were still a bit puffy from just waking up, but her eyes were as bright of a blue as a Corellian summer day.

"Smells all kinds of good!" she'd say, head still swaying a bit as she would walk round him, intending to help him with breakfast. Shoving the sleeves of her sleep shirt back to her elbows, she'd flash him a warm sunny smile before reaching up to unlock one of the galley's lockboxes. The hem of that well worn shirt would inch a few more inches up mid thigh, nonchalance and oblivion over her state of dress.

After living with Jorus on the Gypsy for over a year, she held no qualms with living with a man. Granted, the most Jorus and her ever'd done been no more than a holding of hands. Here on the Aurora, this was her home -- and comfort reigned supreme. A space gypsy in pajamas with a whimsical smile to boot.

"Whatcha need me to do?" she'd ask, opening the lockbox to take down a small tin of tea.

 

[Alndys]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

Comfortable as Chloe was in living with men, Olan was slightly less accustomed. The hem of that nightshirt rising was an eye-grabbing, attention-holding thing that brought his world to a temporary halt, until she'd recovered her box of tea and slid by.

That didn't stop him from turning and briefly putting his hands on her shoulders, swaying slightly as she passed and grinning like a damned fool the whole time. He sang a couple more lines before releasing the blonde to her tea, flourishing his spatula cheerfully. "Ain't nuffin' I need from you but that apple-sweet smile and company." Olan laughed, before immediately feeling like he was sappy enough to be mistaken for a tree. "O'course, some of that tea sounds a right, proper idea, luvvy." He admitted, making room for Chloe at the grill. Plebians made tea in a replicator or wave-oven, real folk made their tea over a small flame.

She already had him speaking native Corellian for the first time in a decade, might as well take his tea in a Corellian fashion, as well.

"Any excitin' plans t'day? Gonna go save th' universe, or finally get ridda me?" Olan asked with a smirk, as he did most mornings.

 

[Chloe Blake]

[member="Olan Black"]

There was a swinging of her hips and a slinging of her hair to go along with that lighthearted laugh that came bubbling out. Eyes bright, she went about to prepare said tea.

"Ain't no bother to make another cup," she told him with a half laugh, setting the tin can down to go fetch the teapot. Small luxuries for sure, but they were the ones Chloe cherished deeply.

"Mmm... Well, 'pends on how well you feelin' up to exploring a bit." she'd say with a flash of a smile, going through the preparations of her normal day to day routine. Only difference now was that there was another to enjoy a conversation with. Last person she spent this much time with was Ember back at the Lost City of the Jedi, down in the vaults.

"Can't have you toppling over with a head rush and all," she'd say with a faint tease, moving away to gather some water from the reservoir.

 

[Alndys]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

"Explorin? I think I might be able t' hold my head from rushin' off." He promised cheerfully. A flick of the spatula sent the last hotcake flopping from pan to plate, atop a stack of similiarly steaming treats - he'd been a busy fellow this morning. But beautiful breakfast didn't prepare itself, that was for sure.

Beautiful, sacred breakfast.

Another one for good measure, though. Better to prepare too much than make too little and go hungry. If he had his way, he'd never go hungry again.

"I'll follow you like as anywhere you're plannin' t'go - not that I 'ave a blaster or anythin' to help out with protectin or anything." Olan added with a slightly dryer tone. He'd BOUGHT a blaster a couple of weeks ago, before leaning that Chloe didn't allow them on her ship. She'd stolen and dismantled the thing while he slept, barely allowing him to retrieve and re-assemble the weapon so he could try for a refund and recoup his losses. He hadn't tried to bring on on board since. "Wherever you're fit to explore, I'll gladly lead th' way there."

 

[Chloe Blake]

[member="Olan Black"]

Mischief would dance upon Chloe's eyes at the reference to the blaster, along with a small apologetic shrug. None the less, the excitement could not be dismissed from her expression as she began to explain just what she had in mind.

"Ever traveled to one of the Companion Galaxies, Olan?" she'd ask, already moving back and forth around him in the process of making tea for them both. Her body was practically thrumming with excitement.

"I've gone to Firefist, and some of the other companion galaxies along the way --- but there is one recently charted by Jorus I want to go to," she began to explain, her eyes bright. "Companion Esk."

 

[Alndys]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

"Companion Galaxy?"

Olan chewed on this thought for a moment. Sure, he'd been all over this one - but even spending all of his adult life wandering the Lightroads and Byways meant he hadn't seen even a fraction of what there was to see. As she fluttered around him, Olan easily finished up what he had to, moving too and fro, reaching around her with the comfortable familiarity of... well, someone really, really used to fitting in. He'd been living with Chloe for about a month, had no issues reaching around her while her back was turned and offering her a bite of syrup-laden hotcake like they had were newlyweds on vacation.

Personal space didn't mean much to him.

Sliding into a seat once the table was set, Olan made sure everythying was in place. "O' course I'm in. Hell, that sounds like a right blast - I'm only wishin y'hadn't told me yer buddy Jorus hadn't already charted it." He teased playfully, eyes sparkling under his bangs. "I always wanted t' be th' first to see somethin' really great, y'know."

 

[Chloe Blake]

[member="Olan Black"]

A bite of mouthwatering warm pancake fluff went into her mouth, her tongue enjoying the taste as she would chew. Enter two thumbs up signs mid chewing to relay he knocked it out of the gravball park.

She would swing round, hot cups of steaming tea in hand right behind Olan. They would work in unison, he'd set the plates and she'd come right after to set down each cup of tea. Sliding into her seat, blonde brows would rise and fall with whimsical cheer.

"Jorus has been round here and back. Don't know another whose traveled as much as me other than him. " she would shine him a smile, and by that slight flushed expression on her face, it was clear she held Jorus Merrill in high regard.

"Though he hasn't quite gone through it all with a fine tooth comb." her hands would curve round her cup of tea, bringing it up close to her lips to gently blow the rising steam from it.

"That's where we would come in."

 

[Alndys]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

Olan nodded his understanding. He wasn't adverse to picking through what was left, in any case - and he'd likely go back to Corellia (dreadfully boring place that it was) if the pretty blonde with the easy smile asked him. Especially considering how well she showed off those legs. "Souns a plan, luvvy." He decided, flavoring his own tea with a drop of cream. Proper tea was best left for the afternoon - sweeter brews were the way to go with a sweet breakfast.

Cutting up his breakfast meticulously before a single bite could be touched, Olan glanced across the table with offer Chloe a sly grin. "I don' know nuffink' bout Companion Esk, afraid I'll be at your mercy." He admitted cheerfully, adding a wink just in case she missed the subtext. "Got any place special there yer keepin' an eye on, or are we jus' floatin' in and looking for cool stuff wot t' fly to?"