We could be Heroes

[Liam Quez]

Peregrine
Space


I don’t know how I feel about space. Its cold, kind of gloomy and the bed I sleep in kind of spells like Ibaris’ mom. That woman, boy oh boy. I’ve found old photos lying around the ship and lets just say Ashin Varanin you’re very lucky and you’ve made so many men cry stealing that woman away. Sighing softly I sit up in my bed and pull out the photo I had confiscated from one of the piles. I laid back down and held the photo up in front of my face. I know Ibaris didn’t belong to them the way I belonged to my parents, but Ibby sure looked a lot like her mom. Interesting, maybe Ibaris will grow up to be this hot.

I glance over catching a glimpse of the girl and her dog. I don’t think she noticed me just yet, but I stared for a good long while. She used to move so much more awkward like she was still trying to figure out her limbs, but not she was a tad graceful with every motion she did. Using my elbow to hold me up a bit I reached out with the photo and held it up in the distance comparing Ibaris with her Mama. After a few moments, I pause and then shake my head.

“Nah”

I continue to admire the photo leaving Ibaris to her games with her dog. My hand clutched the photo I was obviously not supposed to have nor was the photo made for my eyes. A boy could fantasize right? I mean I’m at that age where anything in a skirt makes me howl.

Well, not everything...


[member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

After being ditched in the middle of nowhere by her last pilot, who had been terrified of what she eagerly chased and mortified because the sheer terror had made him wet himself in front of her, Ibaris had added another requirement to her pilot checklist:

-Must not be a wuss.

And what better place to find a not-a-wuss than amongst the Mandalorians? That's where she'd fished out this one that called himself Liam. A Dathomiri would have been one better (in her mind, anyway), but the daughters of Dathomir weren't known for being pilots, weren't known to leave their home very often, and... well, they were female. With her uncle being gone in every sense, she'd been in need of some form of male company, but boys and men that she could hold any sort of intelligent conversation with were difficult to come by, and she'd pretty much given up on trying. All she needed was someone who could stick around for a while to get her places, and... oh yes, there was another requirement:

-Must not be a creep.

Yeah, she could have sworn the boy that wet his pants had also been sneaking peeks at her. Not that she was wholly modest, nor wholesome, nor innocent, but being appraised like a side of bantha meat felt.... eeeeeuuuugggh. Boys were just another kind of animal and none of the other animals looked at her like that! Something had to be wrong there. So far, Liam wasn't doing anything he shouldn't... and speaking of the farmboy, it was rude to ignore someone for very long, even if there were important things to do with one's barkspawn.

"Stay here, Adas," and she gave him a soft pat on top of his furry head, and went off looking for the newest addition to her very small ship's complement. It wasn't long before she happened upon him, laying about... "What are you doing with that?!"

She marched right over, yanked the photo from his hand and gave him a distrustful glare, full of daggers, taking two steps back and holding the photo to her chest. Her glare was still fixed hard on his face.

"Well?"

 

[Liam Quez]

I heard the patter of heavy footsteps. I ignored them assuming Ibaris had decided to come get something from the bedroom. She seemed to be focused on me and then the beautiful picture was pulled from my hands. I sat up and pouted slightly with my hands in my lap. “I’m doing nothing with it, just admiring how beautiful the woman in photo is.” Of course I knew exactly who that woman was and why Ibaris was probably feeling the way she was feeling. I just sat in the bed and wrapped the blankets around me as I bought myself time to think.

“I found the photos I gave most of them to you when we were making room for supplies. I didn’t think you’d miss one photo. The woman’s beautiful and she’s nice to look at is that so wrong?” I flipped the blonde hair that laid flat against my forehead I needed a haircut the next port we stopped at. I made a mental note and did my best to ignore the daggers that were visually being thrown at me. “I had to entertain myself you were off playing with your dog. Its like all I am to you is a pilot.”

Falling backwards onto the bed and rolled my back towards her. If she was going to just yell at me I’d rather pretend I was sleeping and watch the stars out the window. Holy Bantha balls, this pillow smells nice. My face nuzzled into the pillow. "Who's that woman anyways, she's hot I'd like to meet her."

[member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

She stood there, looking rather cross while he explained his reasoning, while he minimized the offense and found the crossness dashed by incredulity when he tried guilt on her, following that up in short order by putting an attraction to her mother into words. She was dumbfounded for a good few minutes as she processed what he said, how she felt about it, and how to put everything into words. It all came down to this: a sigh, when she dropped the hand holding the picture to her side while the other pinched at the bridge of her nose. She breathed in, she breathed out. There was silence. The hand dropped.

"That's my mother, you..." what was a good word? No, not idiot, because she'd used that a bunch already, "...you cretin."

She breathed in through her nose, out through her mouth. Her brow creased. She was trying to be nice. He was still new.

"You, of course, knew that already. I know you're stupid, but not that stupid, farmboy. If you were that stupid, you wouldn't have the brain cells to rub together to fly this thing," she held up the photo, "so I hope you're smart enough to know that when I say 'if I catch you drooling over my mama again, I'm gonna smack you before Adas gets any ideas', that I mean it."

The photo was pocketed.

"And yes, that's what you are - a pilot."

She didn't know if he was good for anything else, but that was what she needed in the now, and it was enough.

 

[Liam Quez]

Okay, she was doing her best to keep her cool, but telling me I’m just a pilot. I throw the blankets off and stand up. My flannel shirt was unbuttoned and my old white tank top was tangled around my torso. Despite trying to look tough, I did my best to untangle myself from the shirt. I was taller than her, but I doubted that would even make her budge an inch. I looked down at her and realized that making her mad was going to be a good time of mine.

“No need to call names, I didn’t realize she was your mama so forgive me before you rip my head off. Also, I’m a bit more than just a Pilot you just haven’t given me a chance.” Bringing my hand up I held three fingers up, “I’m a pilot, a mechanic, and a Chef”. Grinning, I grabbed the small tin box that was on the stand near the bed. I had been snacking before I had found the photo. Opening the box the smell of chocolate filled the air in front of Ibaris.

“Chocolate cookies with chocolate candies. I had baked them before we took off. I like to stash sweets, keeps you up and going sometimes. Go on try one.” If I couldn’t butter her up with my words might as well sweeten her sour face up with my baking. I need to keep this job mostly because I don’t want to get stuck on Nar Shadaa or Dantooine again. Looking back at the bed I noticed there was only one and I had already dumped all my stuff at the foot of this one.

Blinking, I looked back at the hazel eyed angry girl. “So, where do you sleep?”



[member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

Okay, okay. So he wasn't just a pilot, but he was still stupid. Not that she would go back on what she just said. Nope, she would stand by her words. He could make her eat them and she would still say it. Who did this guy think he was? All these things were going through her head, only to be interrupted by a scent she knew very well, and it snapped her right out of whatever tightening ball she was turning into in that moment. She blinked, eyes finding the chocolate cookies, then after a moment those hazel orbs were on his face.

"That's not fair play."

She looked at the cookies again, crossing her arms and wrapping them tightly around herself. No, she would not give in. Come on, willpower! Her eyes dragged up to his face again as he asked as to where she slept.

"You've been laying on it, dummy," but of course her eyes were back on the cookies, then back on his face, her face filled with a plea written in big, fat, red metaphorical marker, as if to say I want to, but I need to be angry at you right now.

"Really not fair."

[member="Liam Quez"]

 

[Liam Quez]

I think I found it, I think I found the weakness to lull the might beast. That was quick I thought quietly to myself. I knew she wanted one as bad as I wanted to give her one, so I reached into the tin and grabbed one of the large cookies. Waving it just in front of her face I stared wondering if she was going to bite and if she was, I hoped it was the cookie. She mentioned the bed that I was laying on was the one she slept on and then I looked towards the other “possible” bunk. It wasn’t much and it seemed the dog had claimed it already. Smiling shyly I just continued to wave the cookie in front of her as I responded.

“Oh wow, your pillow smells amazing.” I stopped speaking after I had said it. I complimented her and I said she smelled good. Awkward, especially since she seemed like she wanted nothing to do with me. I laughed nervously and held the cookie out to her. “Common please just take it. Its the least I could do after I napped in your bed.” Doing this bought me some time to try and figure out how I could some how manage to get in the bed as well, or to hopefully dislodge the dog -- no I don’t think I want to touch that bed.

“So there’s only one bed...good thing its pretty big right? I mean would be awkward sharing a small bed.” No it wouldn’t, she does have her promising qualities right? “I’m sleeping here right?”


[member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

She didn't hear the 'compliment', for she was too much in the throes of agonizing over taking a cookie from someone she was certain she should be angry at. She couldn't. No, no, nonononono. Her hand reached for the cookie, but she hesitated, then again she reached and came to a stop, hovering just shy of the cookie he offered to her.

Willpower, schmillpower.

Finally, after several excruciating moments, she lashed out suddenly over the last inch between her and the cookie and swiped it from his hand, her arm retracting like a snake after it has struck once the cookie was in her grasp. This sweetness was held gingerly with a number of her ten fingers, and she was just about to take a bite... but gave him a look over the edge of the cookie that said in no uncertain terms that she was not going to enjoy this. Nope.

Then she bit into it. Were it possible for her to melt at the contact it had with her tongue, she would have instantly been a puddle on the floor. Okay, maybe this guy wasn't going to be so bad as pilots go. She stood there, sounds of foodborne ecstasy humming out of her as she savoured each slowly-taken bite. So, she didn't register the mention of sharing the bed or any of the words leading up to it, contentment in her chewing... somehow the words that sought confirmation of his sleeping arrangements barely registered over her bliss. It was enough. She finished chewing, the cookie now more than half-gone and a crumb or two at a corner of her mouth; she looked on him as she swallowed.

"No," she said, in the plainest way, "you can sleep in the cockpit."

Then she finished off the cookie.

[member="Liam Quez"]

 

[Liam Quez]

She liked the cookie, which was a good sign. I kept the tin open so she could have another if she wanted it. Finally she gave me the answer I had been waiting for, well not the exact words I wanted, but at least it as an answer. My jaw dropped as she mentioned my quarters were basically where I worked. I was in disbelief most people that I piloted for gave me a room or I shared a room with another pilot or worker. Heck, even the poorest of the poor gave me some sort of room. No, this Princess couldn’t even let me have the smallest corner of the bed to rest.

“B-But there’s no bed in there. There has to be another place I can sleep besides the cockpit. It gets cold in there to. Common Princess. At least give a bath tub or something.” I offered the cookie again, waving it in front of her before I took a bite. This wasn’t going to be one of those cushion jobs I thought it was going to be, I couldn’t even remember on a price the girl had agreed with me on. Did we even talk about payment…or did I get hoodwinked by a pretty face…again. Dad warned me about that, and yet I still fall victim to damsels in distress. I scratched my head and reached for the pillow I had buried my face in.

“Well then if I’m not allowed the comforts of the bed I’m commandeering this pillow and soon a blanket once I put my delicious cookies down in my cockpit or bedroom whatever it is.” Pausing, I grinned. “How about we play a game to see who wins the bed? Its fair right? I need you and you need me – it will be fun I promise.” Biting into a cookie, I chewed then swallowed. “I’ll even let you pick the game!”

[member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

She watched him react, listened to him react, looking nonplussed the whole time. Really, who did this guy think he was? A speck or two of cookie crumbs still at one corner of her mouth, she crossed her arms and waited for him to finish. He taunted her with another cookie and she felt her will wobble again. No, this was absurd. This was a problem. She'd have to work hard to be more in control of her love of sweets. Otherwise, it could be dangerous.

"Nope."

He bit the cookie, anyway. Indignation streaked across her face and left it. She crossed her arms a little tighter, hands wrapping around her ribs. She definitely didn't want it if someone else had slobbered on it. He made his declarations about a pillow and a blanket, and the cookies - she clenched her teeth for a second and set her jaw at that, then had to work to loosen it all up again - then went on to implore her to wager the bed on the results of a game.

"I'm not sure which one of us you think is the idiot here," was what came out, in the end, "but you're sleeping in the cockpit. A pillow and blanket? Whatever. Go ahead, I'm not a monster."

At some point, Adas had come along, and sat patiently by the door. Ibaris looked back at her long-term companion, managed a smile, then looked back to this absurd guy she'd roped into playing pilot for her. Then she turned to exit the room.

"Welcome to the Peregrine, Liam," she glanced over her shoulder before leaving with Adas, "and thanks for the cookie. It was delicious."

[member="Liam Quez"]

 

[Liam Quez]

Looking down at the dog I sighed. At least someone on this ship was liked. I placed a cookie on the nightstand and left one on the floor for the dog. He was cool looking, but I had a feeling he was more loyal to her than anyone with food. I had to fight every effort to wipe the crumb from her face, mostly because I just met her and that would be inappropriate. I’ll get the hang of things here probably…maybe not. A part of me wanted to pet the dog on the way out, but I decided not to. Looking back at the bed at the blankets, I ignored them and left them with the girl. Grabbing my pack, I headed to the cockpit and dumped everything there.

“Thanks uh Ibaris. Glad to be on board?” I didn’t know what else to say so instead I just fed her the words she probably wanted to hear. Stuffing the pillow awkwardly into the pilot’s chair I curled up and watched the small star map display float around. Looking over in the direction where she had walked off, I decided I wanted to learn more about this strange girl that offered me the job. Jumping out of the seat, I headed after her and looked around.

“ So what’s your deal? I was just hoping to get to know you better. Like, how do you own a ship like this – but you don’t pilot? What happened to your pilot before me?”

[member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

She'd taken to the training room, though the only thing she used it for was meditation, lacking in combat skills thus far, outside of a healthy (or unhealthy, depending on your view) knowledge of firearms. She missed the meditation chamber aboard the Chimaera since it'd become the place she was most accustomed to, but as staying aboard that vessel kept her tied down and stunted her growth in the areas she was most eager to grow, the training room aboard the Peregrine was good enough. It was also the one place that tended to be undisturbed by other occupants of the ship; Adas was left 'guarding' the door, which hadn't had a chance to close when [member="Liam Quez"] caught up to her. She suppressed a sigh and sank to her knees, then sat on her heels as had been ingrained into her by her mother. Hands sat palms-down on her thighs, and she took in a long, deep breath, expelling it before answering him.

"The Peregrine belonged to my parents," she said to start, "it's familiar. I don't pilot because..."

Her shoulders lifted and settled.

"...I didn't learn. It didn't seem important."

Not entirely true, but it was the answer he was getting. She got around to turning her head to look at him, her expression frank.

"My last pilot was a wuss."

 

[Liam Quez]

“A wuss?” I repeated what she said, I had gotten a decent enough tour of the place as I chased after her. It seemed like the ship was designed to be a home away from home - which was perfect for what the girl seemed to be interested in. My hand rested on the door as I looked into the training room, her parents were either bounty hunters or something more. Of course this made me curious of the girl named Ibaris.

She didn’t invite me in, but it was either talk to the dog, talk to the wall or talk to her. I decided to talk to her especially after that bed fiasco. I saw the combat gear, which would work out for me. I specialized in close quarter combat - its pretty nice until they pull a blaster on me - then its just more difficult. Happily finding the pull up bar I jumped up and hung for a moment as I looked at her. “So you never learned to pilot - its not that hard I could teach you one day.” Yes, one day, but not today I just got the job. I smirked at her and then did a quick rep of ten pull ups and then I fell to the ground landing on my feet. I broke a small sweat and used the bottom of my t-shirt to wipe it from my brow.

“Well you made a good choice in going with a Mandalorian. We’re not scared of anything, I’ll take you to the pits of hell Ms. Varanin-Jacobs if you you want.” I stood near her with my arms crossed in front of her, looking around again I remained smiling. “So can I use the equipment to work out, I won’t be much of a body guard or anything if I don’t get to training or something. You know any fighting techniques, maybe we can spar some time?” [member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

She blinked.

"Hell?" This was something she thought about for a moment. What did a forceless Mandalorian know about the Nether? Nah, best to keep that part of her psyche, that slice of her recent history away out of his knowledge about her... "I don't think there's anything I'm interested in on Mustafar, anyway."

Cheeky. The piloting comment was ignored. She looked away from him, and let her eyes slip shut.

"The training room's open when I'm not meditating," and she sighed softly, "I'd probably hurt myself trying to hit you, but I could put a bolt in your head."

That should answer his sparring question.

[member="Liam Quez"]

 

[Liam Quez]

So she was a confident one. I was surprised, well not so much I could tell easily from her body language that she was confident with her abilities even if she couldn't physically fight. Still, I was confident that I’d be able to dodge the pretty’ girl’s bolt rather easily. I walked towards her and crouched down, my elbows resting on my knees as I was eye level with her. I grinned and shrugged slightly.

“Don’t doubt my abilities Princess. Your bolt wouldn’t go near my head and before you know it I’d be all over you.” So maybe I was trying to get a reaction out of her, so maybe I might be pushing my limits here...again. I enjoyed her conversation despite it being one sided somewhat. There was just something I couldn’t put my finger on about her. “Why do you meditate? Do you do it all the time?” I never understood the reasoning behind meditation, you just sat there and thought about things. Though what things do you think about? To be honest, I don’t think I’d ever be able to sit still long enough to contemplate life or whatever people do.

“I still think we should spar, good training and we could get to know each other you know? I mean we’re going to be around each other a lot since I’m basically going to be taking you everywhere you want to go”

[member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

She heard him move and settle right close to her. Another suppressed sigh, her eyes slipped open and over to him, in a manner that spoke of bare tolerance. So much for meditating. She'd gotten out from under the watchful eyes of her parents, the feeling that they were onto her scent, how she still insisted to search for her uncle in the Force... they might not agree. They'd push her to move on.

"It's habit, and it's good for the other things I can do with the Force," she said, "and stuff."

A very small smile picked up the corners of her mouth. She had to try.

"I like to make sure to do it every day, if I can."

She glanced at the door, which had since closed. She could feel that Adas wasn't keen on her being separated from her by a door when there was someone else in the room that was an unfamiliar entity, but he had learned not to come in unless she called for him and there was no need. So far.

"Yeah, I might be interested in learning to hit people," she said, pulling her gaze back to his face. Always look at someone when you're talking to them. "Could be useful. What all do you know, Liam?"

[member="Liam Quez"]

 

[Liam Quez]

She smiled, this was a good thing. Atta boy Liam! Giving myself some brownie points I started to explain. “A little of this and a little of that. Grappling, some Echani stuff, Mandalorian combat. Some stuff I’ve combined on my own while studying. I like watching holovids I pick up their moves pretty quickly.” I laughed, it was something I was good at - if I saw it and someone was able to explain to me what they were doing, I was able to understand and mimic their moves. I respected her dedication to her meditation, even though I found it to be silly.

Though, most of the things forcers did I thought was silly. I rolled my shoulders back a few times and raised my fists. My form was tight and one foot was slightly in front of the other, my hips unlocked and I bounced slightly on the balls of my feet. My style was all about speed with force. I was fast, but if I hit you it felt like you ran into a wall. Fast and deadly, I needed to remain that way. Still, this was only a lesson.

“Raise your fists like this, you want your dominate hand to be back - mostly because you want to be able to counter with it. For me, I’m left handed or a southpaw.” I showered her pointing to my left hand and how it remained close against my body. “Your feet work the same way, your dominate foot back while your other is forward slightly and curved inward..” It seemed weird and unorthodox, but there as a reason which I quickly explained. “The curved inward foot helps stabilize you.” Breaking the stance I stood in front of her and offered her my hand. "Do you want to try? Or are you a wuss?" [member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

When he started describing how things worked, she rolled her eyes but listened intently and watched with muted interest (intentional) until he stopped talking; most knowledge was useful, particularly anything with which she could prove herself to her parents so they could stop worrying so much. She gave the offered hand a cursory glance, then looked away, closing her eyes once again.

"I didn't mean right now," she said, breathing in, breathing out, "meditation, remember?"

She wiggled a little bit, re-situating her rear on her feet.

"Meditation also helps me put up with my pilots, which benefits you, too. So get out."

Her eyes flicked over to him, opening for a moment, and she tried that again.

"Please get out."

[member="Liam Quez"]

 

[Liam Quez]

"oh, right."

I pulled back my hand and looked at her. Was this really what I signed up for? Pressing my lips together I took the hint, well the blatant hint that she didn’t want me around at the moment. As much as I wanted to try and be friends with her, I couldn’t do it in one night. Nodding, I put my hands in my pockets and headed towards the door. I left the training room and looked at the dog. “Lucky.” That’s all I said and I returned to the cockpit. It didn't make sense to me, she hired me to pilot for her, yet there was no desire to get to know me. Well probably now, I mean she was rather determined to find a pilot as quickly as possible and was all business. I continued to muse over this as I tried to figure her out. I had work to do, so it was probably a good thing she didn't want to know more and shooed me off from the training room.

​I looked forward to actually doing some real training in there - there was so much stuff! Digging through my pack I found my sketchbook and opened it up. It had various ship panels along with portraits of the people I've met and places I've been too. My favorite was the sketch of my mother - but I couldn't quite finish it building from my memory brought up some things I didn't want to remember.

Sitting there I looked at all the panels, I could tell what everything was only because of seeing so many different ship consoles. Flipping through my notebook I started to draw the layout, doing this helped me memorize what buttons I needed to push to do what I needed the ship to do. I couldn’t read, so I had to figure out another way to teach myself. Leaning back, I looked at the ceiling the ship was quiet and closing my eyes I held my sketchbook tightly and dozed off.


[member="Ibaris Varanin-Jacobs"]

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

Later, sometime in the ensuing weeks or months... [Continuing from Brat Pack Battle Royale!]

She'd broken into a run, leaving him in her wake. Walking as fast as she could hadn't been fast enough, and she had wanted to put as much space as she could between herself and her pilot for as long as she could get it. Enough time for her to make it back to the Peregrine and shut herself in the only bedroom, locking the door. Next thing, she was on her side on the bed, fist furled into the blanket, hood twisted over and half-obscuring her face. No-one could see her like this. No-one could feel her like this.

The anger had passed; it was but a flash in the pan, but in its wake was fear, and as she ran and the tears couldn't stop, shame set in. It was shame that worked its way into her bones, weighing her down, pulling the drops of wet over the bridge of her nose and shoving them to plummet to the bed. Her thoughts churned in her stomach, grasping to understand how she could let herself go so close to the edge of the precipice. Invading, unpermitted, and she almost couldn't stop herself from going too far. But what would she have done? What came next at the last step before the endless drop was a thing beyond her knowledge, and that was the only good she could find in it all, that she didn't know.

By the same token, it could have been far worse had she tried anything, anyway. Footsteps came in long paces up the ramp, and she buried her face into the bedding as deep as it could get.

[member="Liam Quez"]