Tiny Terror

[Mala]

Bright lights cuts through her closed eyes, that was the first indication that nothing was as it should be. That she wasn't in her hole that only glittered when she wanted it to. Purple fur bristled, tasting the air around her. Antiseptic, bacta...people she did not recognise. Lamp like eyes snapped open, panic rising in her chest, breathing rapidly increasing as she took in her surroundings. Someone moved at the foot of of the gurney.

"...BPM is rising." A hand moved near her head and Mala did the only rational thing she could. She sank her teeth into it with a snarl. Twisting brought a wave of pain that made her feel sick, but she rolled from the bed anyway, landing on all fours and tore tubes and needles from her body.

Someone tried to grab her, there shouts ringing in her ears as she shot under the bed, knocking a tray of tools aside. Shiny and sharp, she snatched one up in her hands as someone else reached under to grab her and jammed it into the top of the hand.

"Leave Mala alone!" she shrieked.

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Mala"]

"Gorram-"

Jorus snatched his bleeding hand back. He'd been trying to cut down on cussing - and drinking too, for that matter. Mala wasn't making it easy on either count.

"Everyone back up," he said redundantly, and squatted by the table. "Mala, my name's Jorus Merrill. I'm the captain of this ship. You and I just fought some dead people - you remember that? Saved each other's bacon."

He pulled a very shiny lightsaber from his belt and slid it under the table.

"This is yours. You ready to come out and play nice?"

 

[Mala]

Her shiny slid in front of her, and for a long moment she stared at it, ears twitching and the sound of shuffling feet. Images flitted in her memory a face that was right, the stink of death.

"Bad juju." Ears flattened against her head and ahe dropped the scalpel, both hands collecting lightsaber with a delicate touch. Clutching it close to her chest she inched outwards, lamp like eyes peering up at the captain.

"Mala remembers." She a sniffed, eyes flicking past the captain to the others in the room, still nervous. When no one made any moves towards her she crawled out fully, sitting in front of the captain.

"Mala hurts," she whimpered, on hand reaching to feel the edge of the bacta patches at her back, fear of the unknown rising panic in her eyes again.

"What is it?"

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Mala"]

Jorus shifted from a squat to kneel by the medical table. The staff and droids filed out at a quiet request.

"It's called bacta - it'll fix you. You took a bullet for me, Mala." He kept things simple: Squibs were just as intelligent as humans, but Mala's Basic wasn't complex. "We got away from the...bad juju and the ship took off. If you want, the nurses and droids can help take care of you. We have food for you, and your own room. We do a lot of salvage, Mala - finding good things in broken ships, mostly. Do you want to work with us when you get better?"

 

[Mala]

There was a lot in those words for Mala to process, too much perhaps. Both hands were back on the saber, clutching at it like a child might clutch at a stuffed toy. "Baada..." she repeated. No that didn't sound right, "Bacda..." she tried again with a little giggle looking down at her saber. "Shiny, shiny shiny." distracted for a moment, attention snapping back up at the word work.

Ear flattened against her head and she bared her teeth for a moment. The only 'work' Mala knew was that her parents had done, and 'work' had gotten them killed. Then there was the Big Boss in the undercity, the Big Boss and his meatheads who liked to kick Mala. She shrank back under the table. She didn't understand, she'd liked the Captain...liked the ship and its people too, they'd been nice to her but now he wanted to hurt her?

"Mala not work. Mala not like bosses. Bosses hurt Mala. Mala already hurt for Captin. Nu uh. Mala not work!"

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Mala"]

"Yeah, work can suck," Jorus admitted, taking a seat on the floor. He settled back against a set of drawers with inset handles. "I've sure worked some bad jobs. But the word 'work' can mean a lot of things, and some are good. I work hard raising my kid, and that's...mostly good." He chuckled.

"And when I'm salvaging a wreck or fixing a ship, I'm working for me. I like that kind of work. You watched us for a couple of weeks on this ship, Mala - you know we have fun. I like to make good work for friends."

 

[Mala]

Yellow eyes watched Jorus from there safe spot under the table, fingers absently stroking the silver cylinder in her hand. She listened carefully, desperate to understand. Mala's parents had worked hard too, teaching her things, she'd been so young when they died...so alone after, she'd almost forgotten. Fingers reached to the locket round her neck, a sharp tug and it came free for her to prize open. A tiny hologram flickered to life, faces she'd almost forgotten. "Work...good..." she mumbled.

A sharp snap and the locket closed, Mala shuffled out from her hiding place once more. Inching closer as he spoke before settling down next to him. "Captin...Captin Mala's friend?" Bright eyes stared up at him. "Mala had friend before...Hunter went away...left Mala..." she let out a giggle. "Had shiny here," she tapped her head, and covered one eye the glint of gold from the chain caught her eye and she stared at it for a long moment, watching it sway and glitter in the light. "Hunter not see well. Maybe Hunter stopped seeing Mala. Hmmm, gave Mala shiny though! Just in case. Mala's..." she paused realisation dawning on her that she had no idea where the rest of her things were. "Mala's pestel, where is it?"

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Mala"]

"Of course I'm your friend. You got shot for me." Jorus grabbed the edge of the medical cabinet and pulled himself to his feet. "If you want help finding your friend Hunter, I can do that. As for your stuff, anything you were carrying is in this drawer right here. I don't know what else you had hidden in the ship, but we can set you up with a room for you and your things."

Squibs, in his experience, attached a lot of meaning to their personal salvage trove. Mala pretty much exemplified that trend. A private place to keep her stash might go a long way toward setting her mind at ease.

"Do you want some food?"

 

[Mala]

Mala watched him get up, admiration glittering in her eyes before she got to her feet herself and promptly hugged Jorus's leg. "Mala likes Captin." she let go, finger slipping the locket back round her neck, lightsaber clutched in her teeth before she tugged the draw open and hauled out her belt. It was a mismatched thing, leather, rope and farbic untidily sewn together with pockets and pouches of various colours made 'just so' for all her little pieces. She laid it carefully on the floor, before checking the draw for her pistol, humming happily as she did.

She took the lightsaber from her mouth and slotted into its pocket, and pinched the pistol between her fingers, laying it carefully on the floor. "...safe...on!" she muttered, fiddling with the switch. "...always safe on Mala, ouchie other wise. Mala not want ouchie, no no. Nuh uh." It slid into a makeshift holster before she hoisted the belt up and secured it round her waste, nodding enthusiastically at the mention of food. "Yes, yes. Mala hungry."

[member="Jorus Merrill"]