Private Wayfaring Strangers

[Nadira]

Location: Port Mynock, Wild Space
Tags: Alkor Centaris

The ship jolted a bit as it came into the port, a sure sign the Captain had taken up the bottle whilst on duty again. Nadira's expression must have given away her contempt, as the crewman known as "Bash" gave her a chuckle while he rose from his chair.

"You'll get used to it, newbie. Lighten up a little!" He said, making his way to the corridor.

Nadira stood and followed suit, but the grimace upon her face remained. Since she had boarded The Revenant, one question had gnawed at the essence of her being: how did she let this happen? First mate with plans for her own ship, reduced to bargaining for passage across the galaxy. It was a fall from grace, and one she still felt the sting of. She wasn't even sure she could call herself a pirate anymore, being aboard a smugglers vessel.

The pair made their way to the false boards where their cargo had been stored. The man in front of her stopped abruptly, almost causing Nadira to trip over him. He then squatted down and lifted the metal sheet, exposing the compartments underneath. Crates upon crates were stacked, waiting to be moved. She let out a small sigh- manual labor did not bode well with her, but it was what she agreed. The fellow disappeared a moment and she climbed into the pit, lifting boxes and slinging them up and out onto the ship floor. They were various shapes and weights, and a nagging curiosity got the best of her. She looked up, making sure the gentleman hadn't returned, before sliding one of the lids of of the boxes. Nadira sucked in a a breathe of air as she saw various types of guns- and next to them, plastic wrapped squares, the unmistakable sight of spice, ready to be prepped and distributed. The woman bit her lip, considering. This ship was not well staffed. A blaster, a few bodies, she'd have goods to sell and a way around- not that this rust bucket was much of a ship.

"Tsk, tsk."

The noise of the crewman gave her a start, and she jumped slightly before raising her eyes to him.

"Sorry! Just trying to figure out whats so crinking heavy!" Nidira smiled at the man, all charm. The chance may be gone for now, but perhaps it would present itself again.

The fool bought it and returned the grin, grabbing the handle of the hovercart the zeltron hadn't noticed before.

"Well let's finish up, don't want to be late meeting the buyers."

The two worked in silence for a near half hour, and by the end, two carts were loaded with tarps draped over them, ready to be delivered. The woman had just finished replacing the covering when the man spoke again.

"Want to come along? Always good to make contacts, and we can grab a drink after." He had a hesitant tone in his voice, as if he was unsure he should be asking.

Nadira shrugged and nodded in response- wasn't like she had anything better to do.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The Easy Rider still bore bolts from laser fire from the last run.

Port Mynock always had the best and worst kinds of scum from across the Galaxy. They were great in that they never asked questions; so as Alkor applied a generous amount of elbow grease to take some of the ashen color out of the otherwise gunmetal gray hull he didn't have to worry about any interrogation. He looked almost content working hard, sweating profusely.

It wasn't an honest living, but it wasn't killing. The Corellian exile smiled to himself as he hummed an old tune, something from far back in his memory. Life had a strange way of going any way but the one you expected.

He heard a commotion not far away, but knew better than to get in anyone's business. This wasn't the kind of place where asking questions bought you any favors. Instead, he glanced up and noted the crewmen, the goods, and the woman who seemed like she had been spirited away from where she belonged and awkwardly inserted in the wrong place.

She wasn't human, despite very similar features. Her skin was too distinct, much like Joza Perl , an old friend. Absolutely Zeltron. If that was the case, then...

Ah, yep. There they were. Alkor sensed the pheromones, subtle though distant enough away not to have a prolific effect on him. Those poor suckers.

Alkor let out a low whistle as he pulled away and glanced down at his work. "Bah, still not coming out? And there's at least two more to do... this is gonna take me all night." A Corellian's ship was his life, after all. Even if this was the first ship he'd ever owned for himself, the man was fiercely proud of it.

He looked over again some time later, and they had finished loading up. It sounded like they were going for drinks. Alkor could feel himself salivating. There was nothing like a good drink.

"Did I hear drink?" he called out. They weren't talking business, so that ought to be alright. Right?

Nadira

 

[Nadira]

As they made their way through the port, Nadira took note of everything. The area was not as busy as it was in its heyday, but still had a decent amount of ships docked. She made eye contact with quite a few shady individuals, and if their eyes lingered too long, she offered up a pointed scowl, which seemed to do the trick. The pheromones she gave off had their advantages at times, but could also attract the most unwanted kinds of attention. At one point, she passed a man muttering to himself, but she paid him no mind- he seemed to be hard at work repairing his vessel.

Bash led her to the buyer, a Chiss who looked a little rough around the edges. Members of the other crew went to work on the boxes, and with the flick of a button the exchange was done. This buyer seemed to have no need for conversation, as any remarks offered up by Bash were met with grunts, so Nadira refrained from any input. In her time, she had found the best way to deal with someone like that was to leave 'em be, and it was often appreciated.

"So, erm... just take the carts, we have extra anyways. Thanks for the business!" Bash rubbed the back of his hair awkwardly as he spoke, likely unsure of what to make of the Chiss.

His words were met with another grunt, and the pair turned around and headed back the way they came.

"So we go back and then take a left to the bar, if I remember right. Jeez, that guy is always so weird. I definitely need a cold one af-"

The human was interrupted by a voice, and Nadira turned her head to look. It was the man from earlier, the one who had been talking to himself. The pirate's eyes flickered to Bash before returning her gaze to the stranger, and meeting him with a warm smile.

"You heard right, wanna join us?"

She turned to look at Bash once again, who' expression conveyed the disappointment. Guy was probably trying to get lucky again, though she couldn't fathom why he thought he stood a chance, after so many rejections.

"Actually, I think I'm gonna turn in, you two have fun..."

He gave the Zeltron a pointed look before sulking off towards their ship. The woman paid him no mind and drew a little closer to the other man.

"Well, I am not drinking alone, so don't tell me you're going to ditch me too. I'm Nadira, by the way."

 

[Alkor Centaris]

He listened to their back and forth intently, expression neutral. Bright blue and brimming with energy, his eyes flickered as he got a read on the situation. He had interrupted something, and the other man was crestfallen; but the woman didn't seem to mind. In fact, she was just as happy with him as she would have been with the other fellow. Perhaps more so, if his guess was accurate. The two had seemed to be on very different pages.

Five years since he made himself disappear from the Galactic stage, Alkor had gained a significant amount of clarity when it came to the human condition. While he was far from a stable human being, he at least knew how to read a room. He almost seemed like he had learned social skills, from time to time.

It was when she gave her name that he frown, just slightly. There were times when he felt sharp pangs of guilt about the past. They were fleeting, however; and he was able to quickly twist his expression into a genuine smile. "Pleasure," he said in greeting, "Name's Alkor, I'm just docked here doing some maintenance on my ship."

He turned and swung his arm wide to indicate the vessel he captained. "As you've probably surmised, it's a thirsty job and I'm parched."

Alkor's trademark Corellian grin took over as he turned back to Nadira. Together, they began to walk toward the bar, and by the time the doors were swinging behind them he had a credit chit in hand. "Kal'Shebbol rum, neat. Keep them coming," he told the barkeep.

He took the drink in hand and raised it to his lips. They weren't toasting to anything, so there was no call for manners or ceremony. The sweetness of the drink gave way to the burning that set his somber memories ablaze.

"What's your poison? First one's on me," he offered.

Nadira