Private Wheels Keep Turning

[Nikos Buccheri]

The Wheel
Skyla Hawk
​

Downtime.

Essential for any crew operating in tight spaces and under high pressure. If you didn't give them shore leave to blow off some steam... well... you didn't want to be in a room with a crowd of angry, pent-up marauders for any prolonged space of time. The room was liable to blow up and that was under the best circumstances. The worst ones? Well, suffice it to say that more than one pirate group ended up eating itself in the wilds of outer space.

If only that was a metaphorical.

Anyway, most of Buccheri's crew was scattered all over the Wheel. Logical too- this place was a madhouse of vices. Anything you wanted, you could get, even with the Mandalorians in charge for the past decade. Seemingly Vizsla management hadn't done anything to their taste for a sharp profit and stability.

He found himself in one of the hundred drinking holes littered throughout the Wheel. Closer to the large reactors, so heat aplenty, which meant nursing a few fingers of whiskey was pleasant rather than chasing the amber to not feel your arse freeze off. Not a lot of his crew in this place though. But Nikos preferred it that way. He had to look at their ugly mugs for the majority of their haunts, so being able to avoid them for a while was for the best.

Also ensured the growing attachment to each and every one of them simmered instead of lighting up like a flame.

Never a good idea to grow attached to people in this business.

In one corner he just about spied a bunch of Dellalt originals. The core to his crew. The ones that had been with him from the start. They seemed to be having a good time playing some dice game. But there were a few more here, new ones that they only recently picked-up. Nikos wasn't all that sure about them yet. Good people... maybe. They'd have to see how they'd handle themselves in a real fight.

And maybe how they handled their liquor.

That one was always a good indicator by its own self.

 

[Skyla Hawk]

Nikos Buccheri
_______________________________

The Wheel
_______________________________________​

Skyla Hawk, nothing, and no one at all waited alone at an all too sticky booth in the Wheel. One hand kept firm to a data-pad that grey-green eyes intently read from while the other busied itself stirring a steaming hot cup of caf. It had the consistency of sludge, but, it wasn't as if the establishment took a lot of orders that didn't include absurd amounts of hooch. She could still remember the raised eyebrow her pedestrian order had received. Not to mention the immediate offer for a shot of spiced rum to liven it up. Kindly, she refused.

She didn't drink. Especially, not here.

The rest of the crew seemed content to chase whatever dream floated on by, but, her work wasn't quite through yet. She needed to have her station secure and ready by the time they were ready to leave and that was going to take nothing short of a miracle. It was the only way this would work.

She sat a little too straight, shoulders squared, with a face, hands, and clothes that were far too clean. She wasn't scarred, bruised, or missing teeth from a recent bar fight. She wasn't gambling or drinking non-existent savings away. Everything about the young woman seemed to be the anathema of this place, especially, her attitude. It was distant. Nearly aloof.

An air return above and just behind Hawk stirred the edges of long, loose hair and she reached up to brush honey-brown locks back over her shoulder. That same gesture brushed a strand or two away from her cheek while she went over the inventory again and again. They were out of just about everything. This group went through bacta spray like it was nothing. Green orbs were steady, unwavering, and if she blinked at all, one had the sense that she might have just been waking from a daydream. Most people couldn't keep her gaze. Not for long, anyway.

"You're early, girl."

A voice with a throat full of gravel pulled her from her musings and she slowly pulled her eyes up. "You're late."

Her tone was soft. Not kind, nor cruel. It was a simple statement of fact. The seller wore a bantha leather mock flak jacket and spoke around a death stick better than anyone she'd ever seen. There was a rancid scent that pervaded her nostrils, coupled with clove, and the greasy paw that raked through black hair was so covered in scar tissue that she wondered if it was quite real. If it wasn't - It was an ugly prosthetic. The jacket he wore was new, however, and it squeaked while he shuffled in and got comfortable. "You know how it is. Business is booming and you're not my only customer, princess."

"Right."

The singular word was met with a sigh and she set down her datapad for the moment while he lifted a small case onto the table. Within it, he revealed several different items that she had requested. Most looked used. That she could deal with. But broken? Pale lips formed a delicate frown while she reached for the battery pack for a nutrient replicator and she turned it over a few times. It had residue on the outside, felt bloated, as if the casing had cracked. Her frown deepened. "This isn't what I asked for. I said I needed a functioning brick. The only thing this would be good for is a doorstop - It's completely dead."

"And I ordered at least two cases of FastFlesh. Where are they?"

The face of his timepiece glowed for a moment and the seller, Laka, drummed his fingers on the table in mild irritation. Sky set the power supply back in the case and began to inspect some of the other items. There was something wrong with all of it. Perhaps, it had been lifted from a crashed ship? Or a wreck? Or whoever had disconnected the parts hadn't known how, or what to do, and left most of it useless. Inert. Medtech was surprisingly touchy in the wrong hands. "On the way. You don't know what you're looking at, girl. This is damn good stock at a steal - You won't find anything better."

"It's scrap. Keep it - I'm not paying good cred for it."

"You ordered it!"

"I ordered viable equipment. This is space junk at best. At the worst? A surefire way to kill my crew."

"...Why don't you have some poppers, pretend you ain't greener than pond scum, and put me in touch with your boss. You're karkin' up a good thing and a long-standing business relationship."

Sky let her hands fold in her lap and shook her head slowly. She didn't take the bait nor did she acknowledge the insult—It didn't matter. She had been called far worse over the last few years in the Outer Rim. She could handle one overconfident scalper.

"Bring me something that works. Until then, we're done."

"Listen—"

"You know how to contact me. Go."

His jaw tightened and for a moment he didn't respond, nor, did he move. Sky turned her sights back down on her caf and picked it up to take a careful sip. It really was like sludge, but, the motion should have signaled that she was done with the conversation. Only, he didn't seem to be getting the picture. Laka didn't like to be questioned by anyone, let alone, a little mouthy wretch that didn't even come up to the middle of his chest. "You'll take what I have, pay for it, and that's how it's going to be. This ain't Coruscant and you don't know who you're fething with—"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No."

Laka slammed a fist down on the table and stood up so quickly that the air moved with him. Already dark eyes grew darker still while he stared down the patron opposite him, stuck, staring at the top of her head. Why? Because she wouldn't look up. Wouldn't even see the mess she'd made or the bad mood she'd left him in. "You must have a fethin' death wish. Talking to me like that. Walking around here with no weapons, no enforcers."

"Goodbye, Laka."

He growled and swung hard.

—CRASH—

Sky looked at her now empty hands with some level of disappointment and then glanced at the caf cup that sat in pieces on the floor. She absently began to rub the back of her knuckles that had gotten caught and wrenched back in the handle before she let it go. For a moment it seemed like she might capitulate and the procurer-of-broken-things started to relax. "Now, you owe me a new drink. And working parts."

His hackles rose immediately and he leaned close to jam a sausage finger in her direction. "Say one more thing. Just one—"

"And that caf? That's your face, girl."

 

[Nikos Buccheri]

Skyla Hawk

It wasn't difficult to trace the source of the minor commotion.

Most sentients looked over their shoulder once. Saw it for what it was. Then went back to their drinks, because nobody had time for that kind of nonsense during their shore leave. Nikos' attention didn't drift however. Because he recognized Skyla was one of the newest recruits they had added to their ranks just a short while ago.

New and already causing trouble.

It amused him greatly and for a while he was more than willing to let it go on. Mostly curiosity to see how they would both handle it. Laka was his usual charming self, but the tradesman had not been expecting the trouble Skyla was giving him.

Truth to be told Nikos hadn't been expecting this turn of events either. Either the girl was suicidal, or she was a class supreme fighter that could kill a man in under a breath. He sighed and rose up, leaving his drink behind as he made his way towards the confrontation. People just in proximity had already edged their way out of the danger zone.

The first thing Skyla would notice was Laka stiffening up.

The finger gently being drawn back and the older gent pulling himself up to his disrespectable height. Where there was a sneer first, now there was a charming broken smile as his attention pinned to the new arrival standing right behind Skyla.

"Ah, Cap'n Buccheri. While you know I always have time for you, I am currently dealing with-"

He paused as Nikos raised a hand to forestall him. "I know, Lak. And I apologize for the greenhorn. We picked her up a cycle ago and she is still finding her way around." His eyes shifted downwards to glance at Skyla for a moment. Then the tools she had been bartering over. "But... you gotta admit that even you are towing the line tightly between screwing and love-making here. This chit won't serve us even on a short jaunt."

As Nikos talked his hand gently settled on Skyla's shoulder, tapping her to stand up and away for now.

"Be that as it may, Cap'n, this is all I could do on such short notice and this girl insult-" Nikos' head tilted just a fraction, but it was enough to silence Lak immediately. "This girl is a Scarred Fang. Stupid and green she might be, she is one of us, and you tried to screw her. Which means you were trying to screw me, Laka."

Now that got the guy's attention.

The Scarred Fangs weren't a large band yet, but they were bringing in the loot. Lots of it. You didn't screw with one of your suppliers for something so small as a batch of medical supplies.

Lak didn't point out that he had no clue Skyla was a Fang. He was smart enough for that.

"Right. So you will get us proper chit, according to what the doc here needs and get it to our ship? Right? Right." A nod and with that done he guided Skyla away from the boot. Half a dozen bodies in their immediate vicinity relaxed. Like a wave of peace colliding with tight nerves and itchy trigger-fingers.

Nikos sat back down near his drink that had been left untouched.

And took another sip.

 

[Skyla Hawk]

Nikos Buccheri
_______________________________

The Wheel
_______________________________________​

She waited.

If he was going to lash out at her physically there wasn't much she could do about it. At least, nothing that she could afford. It was part of the ruse. Part of the disguise. She was a simple medic from some backwater that no one had ever heard of. She traveled among mercenaries, marauders, salvagers, and thieves so there must be something damaged and broken inside of her. Something that Laka thought he could fix, obviously, with his fists.

He was wrong.

Slender shoulders stiffened while she forced herself to stillness. Refusing to react, to lift her hand, even to protect herself was the most difficult change. The hardest thing to get used to in this new life. What she didn't expect to see was the much taller man begin to withdraw. He clearly had the upper hand. Skyla could feel the presence of someone with authority rising behind her in a distant tide. Ah, so it wasn't her refusal to bend that put Laka back in his place. Go figure. A voice that was only barely familiar caused her to exhale softly, quietly, under her breath.

Of every drunk present at the Wheel—It had to be him? It had to be Captain Buccheri?

The less than subtle touch to her shoulder caused her form to tense further, but she didn't fight it as much as she wanted to. He was in charge. She had to obey. The brunette reached down and picked up her datapad without so much as a wince and came to stand just beside the much taller marauder. Her knuckles were red and swollen. Nothing was broken, likely just strained. Maybe a little pushed back. It was nothing that ice and rest wouldn't cure. The language that followed…Screwing, love-making, in regards to the deal caused dark-blonde lashes to dip low while she hit a little embarrassment. That bothered her, oddly, not being threatened.

The way that Laka responded to the Captain or immediately turned an about-face made her think a little better of him. She'd chosen the Scarred Fang for a reason. They were still small enough that she could get by, but, just large enough that she could blend in. She didn't want to stand out. Not at all and certainly not like this. For Force's sake. Why couldn't Laka have just held up his end of the bargain?

Captain Buccheri set down the terms of the agreement, which, were the same exact things she had just said and she could feel a little bit of indignation start to rise. She could feel herself being guided away from the second-rate used starship salesman and couldn't help but toss one final remark over her shoulder. "Everything on the list Laka, as my Captain said, and at a discounted rate no less. Payment, for time wasted."

She had a small moment of satisfaction while watching his face crumble into barely contained fury. It was a cheap shot. Sky knew it, but it was also necessary. The entirety of the Wheel, drunk or not, had just watched someone big and tall swoop in to take care of her problems. It would ruin her ability here and discredit her with a crew she had barely met.

Skyla needed them to trust her so she could treat them.

They wouldn't let her if they thought she was a flake that couldn't handle her own. That she was frightened off, like a field mouse, the moment things got less than civil.

Her footsteps were light, near-silent, while she stepped after Nikos Buccheri . Obedient. At least, for the moment. He sat down again and picked up his drink as if nothing had ever happened. "I should thank you…", she breathed out, softer, than he might be used to. Everything here was gruff, harsh, and clashed with the uncertainty of reality. The grittiness of it.

"But next time, Captain, if it's all the same to you…I'd rather take the hit."

Her head inclined respectfully, again, an odd movement, before she turned to dismiss herself.

He didn't seem like he wanted company.

Afterall, why sit alone?

 

[Nikos Buccheri]

Skyla Hawk

The only thing coming from Nikos was a snort, when Skyla added her own demands to his.

This field-mouse had guts at least.

That counted for something, did it not?

By the time Niko sat back down he had almost forgotten Skyla again however. At the very least that's what it looked like. The way his hands grabbed hold of the drink and his eyes didn't so much as glance towards her. Until she talked anyway. His attention shifted once more, one elbow on the counter and tilting his face her way with curiosity.

"You enjoy getting your teeth smashed out over some bobs and ends?" Tone of amusement as he gestured for her to sit down. "Sit, have a drink. You got heart, Green. But heart alone ain't gonna save you out here."

He stretched there lightly as his brows furrowed.

The tension behind his eyes was growing. Luckily Nikos had his amber freedom in hand. A deeper sip there and it blunted the pain. A few more glasses like that and it wouldn't be felt whatsoever. "Never start a fight yar ain't capable of ending on your own terms." A pause there as he waited for her to order something, then-

"Unless you're a secret Mandalorian or Echani, of course. That you, ma'am, hidden badass that can destroy a man with just a look?"

It was not entirely clear if he was karking with her or not.

 

[Skyla Hawk]

Nikos Buccheri
_______________________________

The Wheel
_______________________________________​

"I like my teeth."

Her tone was matter-of-fact with a little bit of cheek mixed into a serious expression. She had in fact assumed that he had forgotten about her the moment they walked away from Laka's less than attractive mug. That was all right. She hadn't joined the Scarred Fang to make friends with the assumption that it would be just like joining the Jedi Enclave. No. It was a very different experience. "Forgive me…But they're only bobs and ends to you until you need something reattached. Or put back in, so you don't bleed out."

She hesitated at being offered a seat but took it regardless.

The way he questioned her now was the same way the rest of the crew would when news spread. And it would. There was nothing a bunch of spacers liked more than finding a metric ton of booze or loot than rumors about the new kid on the ship. Buccheri offered her a drink as well and she nodded toward the robotic tender. "Something cold. On ice, please."

Manners with an automaton were mostly unheard of, but there they were. They were considered equipment not crew by most teams but Sky hadn't grown up that way. Her astromech had been her best friend, her only friend, for more years than she could count. Old habits. "I have more than heart—Or else you wouldn't have taken me on. I'm not stupid."

Value. That would keep her where she was, full and true, because no one could stitch up a wound as neatly as she could. No one could discern poisons, ailments, and all manner of communicable diseases as swiftly as she could. Often, on sight, no less. Her services were reasonably priced and she kept her mouth shut. Grey-green eyes flickered over the man for a moment but they diverted toward the robot that brought what she asked for. She offered it a ghost of a smile before picking up the tumbler to rest it against her knuckles. "…I didn't start this. He did."

Her smile actually widened, for the first time, when the captain made a joke about her heritage. She had to laugh it off. Had to pretend that she couldn't hurt a fly, even, when provoked. "I heal people. I don't break them. I'm sure that Laka and I would have eventually come to an agreement, though, it might have taken longer without your…"

"Charm."

And she might have needed more than a little ice.

It kept the peace of the Wheel, but it would probably make things more difficult later on. She was the only one who knew what to look for to repair the pods on the ship. Or to stock their shelves with items that would actually help versus a bunch of medical patches that primarily relied on bacta. A substance that Mr. Buccheri couldn't have, period. So—She had to be creative with alternatives.

She remained quiet for a moment, though, wondered how he was. It was the doctor, the medic, in her that always wondered after people. The Wheel wasn't exactly dimly lit. She wouldn't pry without provocation but it was best that he understood now, rather than later, that she would always see him as a patient. "It's just that…I'm supposed to take care of you."

"Not the other way around."

 

[Nikos Buccheri]

Skyla Hawk

A shrug there.

"He started it, you started it, they started it... don't matter, green." He would have pointed out that was the exact phrase a little child would use after rough-housing, but Nikos didn't want to hurt any feelings. That would be a silly thing to do here. "Out here you always need to measure yourself against those around you. Can you handle them, in a fight, in a mettle of words. How does your reputation hold up against theirs?"

His hand lazily gestured towards the furious merchant currently calling up suppliers and the sort.

"Laka is a piece of chit. But if you had pissed him off enough? Your business wouldn't be good anymore on half this station. That is why he felt so confident in screwing you over, dig?"

Another sip, smaller now as his eyes drifted away from her and back to the crowd.

Calmness had returned and that was for the best. The last thing this drinking dive needed was another knucklefight in the thick of it. A chuckle there however, when she mentioned his charm and then in the same boat pointed out she was supposed to take care of him. Not the other way around. That was where their opinions squarely drifted apart.

"Got that wrong, ma'am. Yar crew now. Who knows for how long, but you are. And that means I protect you. All of you dumbasses." A yawn there as he finished his glass and ordered himself another one.

"But- it's good to have someone onboard who knows their way around a scalpel. Been threatened with a bonesaw for a few too many times to find it very funny these days." A smirk colouring his expression as Nikos said that. Accepting his new glass poured by the droid he raised it an inch.

"We should drink to something, green. What should we drink to?"

Only there his eyes meeting hers once more.

 

[Skyla Hawk]

Nikos Buccheri
_______________________________

The Wheel
_______________________________________​

"Sky."

He kept calling her Green. It probably wouldn't have bothered her if it weren't for the fact that it had come from Laka first. She had seen and endured more things in her life than most would ever see throughout the completion of their own. He wouldn't know that. She couldn't tell him. She couldn't tell anyone—Not ever. "You should know what to call me because if you page me with "Green" in the middle of the night I can't promise I'll respond."

Her gaze drifted back toward Laka at the gesture Buccheri made and she drew in a gentle breath before exhaling through her nose. He had a point; But so did she. "I'm pretty sure he felt confident for a few reasons. He didn't recognize who the order was for until you showed up. He's used to dealing with suckers…And although I'm quite fearsome I suppose I'm not the most imposing person in the Wheel tonight…"

"But if I let it go, I'd just be an easy mark for the rest of the station to take advantage of."

There would be a next time. Likely, another after that. Skyla was confident that in time Laka would get used to her and so would the others. She played fair, but only, if she was given the same in return. It was unlikely that Laka would try anything now but it was a slight disappointment. She had hoped that her first foray into gathering supplies and dealing with trades would have gone smoother—But she wouldn't pay for junk. They needed too much to waste a single cred. "But yes, Captain…"

"I dig."

Ah, a chuckle. So it seemed that he was capable. She kept the tumbler pressed against her knuckles while he disagreed with her sentiment about who took care of who and a lilting laugh escaped her. She could tell he was going to be difficult. But, she liked a challenge. "We might just have to settle for taking care of each other, then. It's what I do. All I've ever done."

That part was true. Taking care of people in any capacity had always been her truth as a Jedi Knight and even though she locked the Force away it didn't change who or what she was. Despite his reservations about how she had approached Laka he didn't really seem to mind that much. At least she wasn't being fired before their first mission. She'd never truly failed in her work. That really would have stung.

When he mentioned being threatened with a bone saw an elegantly arched eyebrow rose.

"Who, how, and why were you threatened with a bone saw?"

It seemed like there was some sort of story there that might have made every bit of her cringe as a medical professional. She was curious in a morbid sort of way. He raised his glass and suggested that they drink to something and she shook her head again, at the terrible nickname. "Skyyy", she repeated with, dragging it out, with a little bob of her head.

But what to drink to?

"A friend of mine partnered with me for a few missionary adventures a couple of rotations ago. He loved ne'tra gal, of all things, and always used to say…", she rose her glass, just a smidge, "Another day, another bender. No retreat, no surrender."

He was gone now. Courtesy of the Bryn'adûl.

But—It was a fond memory. It was something innocently honest. She appreciated, that for once, she could tell someone the truth. The Captain would neither know, nor care. That was okay too.

"So..That will be my motto for the night. No retreat, never surrender."

 

[Nikos Buccheri]

Skyla Hawk

Sky she said.

That drew a bemused tug upwards of his lips. Clearly the wily bastard of a merchant had left his mark on her with the nickname. Part of him wanted to continue to use the name. Teach her that she needed a tough skin out of here. 'Green' or 'Greenhorn' was gonna be the least of her concerns compared to the creativity spacers could employ.

But.

She was crew. There were captains who thought that meant little to nothing. It was different to Nikos. In a world that was set-up against them... was it not his duty to be better? At least to his people. Let the rest burn, but his people should feel safe and good under his employ.

"I am glad you dig, but just to be clear- there is a middle ground between letting someone spit in your face and thanking them for the privilege, and being liable to break your foot off their arse." A shrug there. "Guess the struggle is gonna be for ya where you draw that line.... Sky." Once more Sky reaffirmed her new-budding reputation to be a stubborn schutta however.

A snort was his response.

"Sure, I make certain your face doesn't get rearranged by angry merchants and you make sure I don't bleed out in the heat of battle." Nikos relaxed as they sat together and he related the story of the bonesaw to her. It was a convoluted affair involving the Dellalt partisans being hold up in a forest, being attacked by Sith from all sides and being able to retreat into safe territory at the nick of their teeth. He had refused proper care to ensure more needing people got their care, which had pissed off the medic for quite a bit. If you bleed out, who is going to lead us then? Maybe I should just use this kriffin' bonesaw and put you out of-

Well, you get the gist of it.

"Which, I guess doesn't fit all that well with your motto. Sometimes retreating is the best option- but." Nikos shrugged with a grin and a gentle tick of his glass against hers. "I will drink to it anyway. Today I ain't retreating to chit."

There Nikos tipped off his glass and swallowed the contents in one try.

Just a small shiver as the burn hit his tongue and he knew it was good.

"So, what's a clean prim thing like you doing out here anyway? Not exactly the usual haunting place of the Core-born types." Nikos didn't know if she was Core-born, of course. But it was an educated guess, Sky was far too fancy for the Wheel, far too clean for their crew and in general didn't seem at all at home in the Outer Rim.

Such things were hard to hide for the best ones.

 

[Skyla Hawk]

Nikos Buccheri
_______________________________

The Wheel
_______________________________________​

"All right…Show me then.", she intoned almost thoughtfully, while an idea began to percolate in the back of her mind. It was fragile. Thin. Like a soap bubble. But, it was there. If she couldn't use any of her training or rely on the Force anymore—Could she not acquire new skills? The soft-spoken brunette could see where her train of thought might have lost him and she offered a partially abashed smile. It was almost shy and her head inclined a little while her chin touched her shoulder. "If you have time—Help me learn to draw the line where I want it to be."

The use of her name rewarded him with another smile. A little more open, this time.

"You can't always be there. At some point, I'll need to keep my own face from being rearranged."

In turn, if he wanted, she could teach him a thing or two that might help him in an emergency. Or she could come with something different. There were quite a few herbs she knew of that might alleviate some of the symptoms he endured. Nothing would help her eyes unless she fancied cybernetics but she could help his headaches. It struck her as momentarily odd. She knew too much about his body chemistry simply from reviewing his files. Personally? She knew next to nothing.

Just his name. Rank, reputation.

The Half-Hapan woman fell silent when he wove his tale of misfortune and sacrifice. He breezed through his role in it as if it were nothing more than wind weaving through the trees, but Sky caught it, and made a mental note. Not such a barbarian nor a heartless marauder—Now was he? Refusing treatment for the betterment of others spoke of selflessness. Even for a moment. Green-Grey orbs slid down toward the tabletop and a barely noticeable chuckle rose. "I think I might have liked this medic."

He clinked their glasses and she could feel the vents move again. They were always turning on and off in this place. Her shoulders drew tighter from the chill—Even with the warmth that hit their table from the large reactors. She was always cold. Being out on starships for so long or on Coruscant hadn't done her any favors. Were it months ago, a different world, Sky would have used tapas to help. But, that was purpose defeating. No Force. None.

Mr. Buccheri drank. She rose the tumbler and pressed it to her lips, though, didn't actually have anything more than the taste and afterthought of alcohol. Sky didn't really drink, plus, she needed to make it back to the ship. In the dark. She couldn't do that drunk and nearly blind. Perhaps, he wouldn't notice. His next question caught her leaning back in the booth. Trying, possibly in vain, to relax.

It was hard to do.

"I was born on Selvaris."

It was a hole. It was so backwater that most people wouldn't be able to pick it out on a star chart let alone have any idea what she was talking about. It was a dark place. Full of forests and jungles that were half-converted to Vong engineered lifeforms. The secret horrors that world knew were things she couldn't fathom. Her mother had written text after text. About the population centers that were swallowed up by things they had no hope of understanding. "Not such a posh place. You won't find much on that planet but relics and remnants of things that ought to stay buried."

She tried to think of how best to answer the rest of his question, but it everything was cloudy for her. Confusing. She could still feel the loss of her Master and the more she dwelled on it the more the light in her eyes seemed to dim. "Someone I cared for died. There's nothing more dangerous than when an idea turns into a belief…He was right. He was always, right. But he was on the wrong side of the war and by the time others realized what was happening right under their nose…"

"The truth didn't matter anymore. They didn't want their illusions destroyed. So, they doubled down and demanded things I couldn't give. I couldn't support them. Not anymore. Not after...That. "

Her lack of cooperation and refusal to come in for questioning, even if it was harmless, had done more damage than she could really explain with such a half-arsed answer. There were obvious holes in her recollection. But it was as fair a shake as she could give while trying to keep some level of anonymity. She didn't like lying. Omitting. But, it was necessary. She didn't know if she could trust this man or anyone else in ANY system on ANY planet. So…Lying. White lies. So very, very many. Knowing that the best of lies were mingled with truth...It sickered her.

Even to do it to a stranger. Feeling that way, wrong, was her new reality. It was best to accept it.

"What made you want to be a Captain?"

There was no finesse to that whatsoever. Simply, an abrupt change of subject.

 

[Nikos Buccheri]

Skyla Hawk

"Selvaris, huh?"

That one surprised him.

She didn't seem like the Selvaris-type. It had gone through hardship after hardship. The Vong had done quite a number on the world during the One Sith time, this much Nikos had heard of. She had seemed... more posh. Coruscant. Dromund Kaas, maybe. One of those High Coruscanti cultures that bred into you the belief you could make anything happen.

As long as you set your jaw just right and pushed.

"Ah, well. Death is the greatest inspiration for change. That much is for sure. It shakes you out of illusions and makes you realize that you can't go on like you used to." A shrug there. It had been the same for him and most of the Scarred Fangs. Dellalt had been killed. Buried. The life they had there didn't exist anymore.

"Want had nothing to do with it." Nikos said simply as he sipped more from his drink and studied those in the room that were part of his crew. "When people depend on you ya got two paths ahead of ya. Either abandon them or step up."

He grunted with amusement at the notion that followed.

"Seems I am not the type that abandons easily." Considering they had done just that to Dellalt... ironic. "We have all done bad things out there to survive. And we will be doing far worse to thrive, but this is a dog-eats-dog Galaxy, Sky. It's either them or us... and I much prefer it to be them."

It was cold, calculated, but in its own way it was simple honesty.

"You got what it takes to make the tough calls, you think? When you are out there- you gonna be able to get your hands dirty?"

There was no judgement in his tone as Nikos asked that of her. No, just plain curiosity as he leveled his gaze back onto her again. It was an amusing thought, really. Posh little Selvaris girl getting all grime and dirty with the rest of them. Would she step over bodies before this story was over? Was there a thing she was certain she wouldn't do?

It would be interesting to say the least.

 

[Skyla Hawk]

_______________________________

The Wheel
_______________________________________​

"Selvaris.", Sky repeated, with a light drawl, as incredulous as he seemed. Perhaps the Captain would have found it easier to swallow if she'd had grime beneath her fingernails or was suspiciously missing an eye. The fact that he repeated it with any recognition at all was surprising, though. Most people just blinked and carried on. It was just one more backwater out millions that speckled the stars. "I haven't been home in quite some time, though."

The words he shared on Death caused her to tense.

It wasn't because he was wrong. It was because she didn't want to admit that he was right. It had taken the destruction of Csilla and the literal evaporation of life on entire worlds in the Eastern Reaches of the galaxy to get the warring, pitiful nations, to rise above their own designs and band together for the greater good. It was death that stirred them. Imminent, true, and exceedingly nigh—Death.

"They'll still go on like they used to. To some extent. That's why I couldn't stay."

One reason, of many.

Skyla let the topic fall away when Nikos Buccheri began to talk a little more about himself. She was much more comfortable with that. It seemed that rather than to abandon his people he'd decided to fall into the role of a leader. She knew what that felt like—To some degree. At least, she had.

His thoughts on the "us" and "them" perspective would have horrified her a year ago. A few months ago. Now? She couldn't find it in her to disagree. No matter how much she wished that there was a way to move forward peacefully, in truth, sentient beings were flawed. There would always be a tilt in the balance that caused one side to suffer while the other thrived. It was nature.

No matter how much the Jedi decried it otherwise.

He asked if she had what it took to make the tough calls. Perhaps, to act on his earlier words. To do the "bad things" that he assumed they all needed to do in order to survive. Green eyes didn't waver from his face while she responded, truly, and with more confidence than a whelp from the Outer Rim ought to have. It was unnerving. "…I'm a doctor, Captain."

"I'm used to my hands being covered in blood—"

It wasn't the answer he was looking for. Not exactly. She had taken oaths not to harm others but she could only imagine what it meant to stay alive in the dredges. Sky was used to civility—But she could feel the darkness creeping in over the horizon. She had already dropped so low from the lofty place the light led her. From proudly wearing Jedi robes, to this. To hiding, lying, and occasionally cheating to buy passage to somewhere that was anywhere but the Core.

Anything to get away. Anything, to not hear the call of the Force anymore.

To not hear the gaping wound in the universe left by such wanton death and destruction.

"—But I'm not an enforcer. Not a fighter."

Lie. Again.

She sighed. The alcohol in front of her was looking to look a little too good.

 

[Nikos Buccheri]

Skyla Hawk

A doctor, not an enforcer.

Not a fighter.

Something told him that wasn't the whole truth. It was the way she stood. The way her hands moved and her eyes ran across a room to take it all in in one go.

The way she pissed off a guy about one and a half her size without flinching.

"Might be so." He said simply- because even if Nikos doubted Skyla's words... it wasn't his story to tell. They were all running from something, Nikos reckoned, and him sticking his nose in her business wouldn't do anyone favors. "But if we get boarded and a crazed marauder is swinging their blade at ya, they don't gonna stop mid-swing when they realize yar a doctor."

In fact, they might even swing harder, if they had particularly bad experiences with their personal physician.

He finished his second glass. Two fingers tapped on the table a moment after for a refill. Clearly Nikos was planning on going at it hard. "You gonna finish your drink or just gonna nurse it and pretend you are?"

A smirk cast her way at that.

Clearly Nikos might be many things, but he wasn't scared at all to call her out or put her on the spot for any reason.

 

[Skyla Hawk]

Nikos Buccheri
_______________________________

The Wheel
_______________________________________​

"A doctor, Mr. Buccheri."

Skyla offered what should have been a sweet smile but the corner of her lips was touched with more than a little sass. He hadn't directly called her out but there was something in his tone that made her double down on her occupation. "If we find ourselves in a situation in which a crazed marauder has boarded your vessel and is attacking your crew—It seems that you have a job to do."

"I'll do mine. You do yours."

He was smarter than the average salvager spacer. She hadn't counted on that, but it was a double-edged sword. Both a pleasant surprise and a hindrance. Sky was realizing, slowly, but surely that keeping things from him would be difficult. He barely knew her from a mop and bucket and yet seemed capable of pointing out her flaws with near grotesque precision.

He would probably start to notice that she rarely answered his questions in a careful game of avoidance and omission. Troublesome.

When the long-haired man called her out about her drink, she moved the tumbler a little bit. Back and forth, along the skin of the back of knuckles. "…I haven't decided yet.", the light admission was neither confirmation nor a denial. She glanced toward some of the other crew members that were in various states of intoxication. Sky was willing to bet that Buccheri could outpace her on her best day and that wasn't counting the fact that this liquor was probably stronger than anything the Core had to offer.

"I have a feeling that some of our crew might need assistance."

Lest they wind up with alcohol poisoning and hurling their guts out on the side of the skylane. The young woman glanced toward the new drink their robotic server dutifully brought out and her head tilted in faint amusement. "Perhaps, even you. I have a fool-proof remedy to deal with the ill effects of enjoying spirits a little too much. Won't feel a thing, come morning."

Sky still let the drink idle.

For some reason she didn't feel comfortable owning up that she didn't really drink. It was as if he knew too much already. Questioned, too many things. Sky had always known that it would be difficult to keep up appearances, but she'd been a wayward urchin of Coruscant once upon a time. Once upon a time she knew how to remain unseen. Here?

She was too far removed. Stuck out, like a sore thumb.

"Do we have a destination, yet?"

 

[Nikos Buccheri]

Skyla Hawk

Nikos would have pointed out that in a situation like that... every member of the crew would have to pull their weight.

But-

Tonight wasn't about worries. It was about drinking so much brewed courage, until you toppled over into the dirt and had to be carried between your crew mates onto the ship. Somewhat of a teambuilding exercise. Some teams did the whole 'fall backwards into the arms of your mates', but that had always seemed a bit dull to Nikos.

No, this was the true measure, as far as he was concerned. You couldn't replicate puking your guts out into the gutter alongside your closest pals. That sort of chitty embarrassment stayed with you in the thickest fire.

"Can't be all business all day every day, Sky. Gonna turn mad from that." He pointed out lightly as he sipped from his own drink once again. "If ya don't find moments and places to unwind and let everything go?" A shrug followed at that statement. "Well, I wouldn't advise anyone to be around that kind of ticking time bomb."

Nikos winked as he grabbed a bunch of peanuts and dropped them in his mouth like an appetizer. At least Sky now knew that her captain didn't have a peanut allergy.

Valuable medical information, clearly.

"While I value a good ol' hangover cure, I hope it ain't too potent. If ya can't whine about your headache or bellyache with your crew after a night of drinking, what's the point really?" And it wasn't entirely clear if Nikos was being serious here or not.

Destination...

That was a good subject and one he wasn't a hundred percent on yet. "Unsure." Nik said truthfully while glancing down his glass. "We had a good haul recently, but might be time to go raiding again. We are running low on scrap metal, chit like that. With the Sith Empire disintegrating there is plenty of shite to raid though. Bright points, eh?" Chuckling there as he polished off his glass once more. Then sighed warmly as the alcohol did its job of blunting his nerve endings.

"What do you think? I am always interested at our newest recruits' thoughts. Any destination you think we ought to take?"

No promise Nikos would listen, of course. But there was genuine curiosity at her opinion in the matter.