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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Sept 11, 2016 20:14:51 GMT -5
rvisa Therani didn't exactly sit in the Captain's chair. She didn't sit in it because the odds were she had to move again anyway. She'd been bouncing between consoles sometimes every five minutes. It had been easier when the Gozanti was in hyperspace. There had been time enough then to get to sleep, to flop in a bunk and nap. Hell there'd even been some time when Garchy'd been on the flight deck to root around the footlockers looking for interesting crap the impies had kept. Truth was it was mostly porn and cigarettes.
50% worth keeping.
Since they'd dropped out the first time they'd both been heavily busy balancing the power, trying to shut down Imperial transponders and recognition systems, and also plotting and executing a new course. They'd opted for Bespin. Ervi'd never been there, her understood Shyriwook was still rusty enough that she wasn't sure how Garchy knew it, from charts or in person.
It was out of the way, low profile, and definitely unaffiliated. Place around the gas giant was harvesting tibanna, from inside the atmosphere too. As it happened one of the layers of atmosphere was perfectly breathable and comfortable. Now that, in her book, would be a sight to see.
Also, as she hovered at the sensors console to gauge their timing, it would be a place to pick up either more crew, or droids. She wasn't really all that picky about which one, it was worth it to have somebody, anybody, back at the engineering console working on power regulation. Sprinting back and forth across the ship was reminding her she needed to quit smoking again.
"Mind you," She said to her companion amiably, "I like the ship. But we have got to see about cutting down on the workload. You've got some big muscles, I get it, but I'm gonna get tired out really quick with this. More people maybe?"
She lit a match and held the tabac cigarette to it, taking a long drag.
"I'm all right with about anything with a pulse or a working battery, as long as we can get this bucket running more smoothly."
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Post by Deleted on Sept 11, 2016 21:34:12 GMT -5
The last few days had been some of the strangest in Gaarchiir’s life, to be sure. One moment, he was on a passenger transport, bound for the Outer Rim. Then next moment he was being held by Imperials on a Gonzanti. Then a crazy Mirialan woman came along, and before Gaarchiir knew it, they had commandeered the vessel. An Imperial vessel. The Wookiee supposed that the act made him and Ervisa pirates, not a term he usually associated with. But pirating against Imperials was something that Gaarchiir could justify.
Still, he wasn’t sure if it had been worth it. The freedom, of course, was worth it. But the past few days had been spent running back and forth in the aft of the ship, across the various engineering bays and consoles trying to keep all the readouts normal. More than once had Gaarchiir and Ervisa passed one another when they had been travelling to and from the bridge. The Wookiee had barely slept, taking on the challenge of maintaining the Gonzanti almost personally. But it was clear from the start that the ship required more than two people, let alone one Wookiee, to fly it.
So Gaarchiir had directed Ervisa towards Bespin, when she asked for a port where they could get away from the Imperials, get what they need, and maybe get another hand or two. The Wookiee had only been to Bespin, more specifically Cloud City, once. It was a nauseating feeling, being on a floating city with nothing but clouds in every direction. Flying through space was one thing. But planetside? Gaarchiir liked his feet on firm ground, or in a tree.
Cloud City wasn’t firm ground. It was unnatural.
As Ervisa stood over the sensor console as the Gozanti came into Cloud City, sometime in the middle of the afternoon if Gaarchiir had to judge, the Wookiee sat at the copilot’s seat with the controls to fly in hand. Taking cues from the Mirialan as he guided the ship down, Gaarchiir set the Gozanti down on an exposed landing platform, which overlooked the expanse of clouds on one side.
<<Ehhhhhhh…>>
Gaarchiir let out a low growl, which sounded cautious and a little unsure. Pulse or batteries. Personally, the Wookiees would go with batteries first. They were usually more trustworthy, didn’t complain, and didn’t call him a “giant walking carpet”.
<<Why don’t we start with batteries?>>
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Sept 11, 2016 22:19:56 GMT -5
Ervisa understood the lukewarm response, and the proposal that followed. People were flaky. She knew, she'd been married. You couldn't rely on them not to steal your underpants or report you to the cops, the Inquisition, and the Home Owner's Association. Then there were things like bosses too. It was a miracle anybody didn't murder each other. Of course to be fair there were races who were less... Human. Celegians was it? Big balls of brains, in a jar or something. They were probably good company. The lack of thumbs would be awkward for this job though.
"Yeaaaah," She confirmed slowly, rising from her seat and heading down from the cockpit to the interior steps that led to the entry ramp. "Droids it is."
They'd have to be careful about it all. Their credits weren't in heavy supply, enough to pay the docking fee and cover food. But droids would take bribery. Or trade as some people called it. Luckily the Gozanti had quite a few containers of equipment. DLT-19s, E-11s, Thermal Detonators. Uniforms. Frankly though she was keeping a couple of those. With a little tailoring the officer outfit would look fantastic on her.
She trudged down the ramp, Garchy in tow, and paused at the bottom where several security personnel stood.
"Hey check out the bellhops," She said quietly with a snicker.
They spoke first when she arrived.
"We weren't expecting to see a Mirialan and a Wookiee coming out of an Imperial craft," A man with regulation cop mustache said skeptically.
"Surplus auctions, magical things. Now garcon, here's the docking fee as agreed. Do you have a little map to give us? I'd really like to know where you can get a good chef's salad around here too," She rebutted with twinkling eyes and a jovial tone. It was funny that an athletic woman with piercings, tattoos, and leather could look infectiously charming, but she did have some charm reserves to deploy now and again. The man took the money and gestured to the doors.
"Everything's clearly marked. Welcome to Cloud City."
She nodded with satisfaction.
"C'mon Garchy. How do you feel about salads by the way?"
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Post by Deleted on Sept 13, 2016 21:12:34 GMT -5
Judging from Ervisa’s response and agreement, Gaarchiir assumed they had the same train of thought when it came to starting with batteries over pulses for crewmembers. People were finicky. Droids could be reprogrammed and mind-wiped. And the Wookiee was glad that the Mirialan agreed with him, without too much having to be said. That seemed like a good start to a long, professional relationship. Gaarchiir was starting to like his Mirialan partner. Following Ervisa from the bridge, the Wookiee slung his bowcaster over his back, and followed her down to the ramp. Holding the strap to his weapon with one large, furry paw, Gaarchiir almost tripped over the Mirialan when she stopped suddenly in front of him, at the top of the landing ramp. Bellhops? Looking down and out, the Wookiee spied what could only pass for the Cloud City Security Force. A handful, all armed. At Ervisa’s comment, Gaarchiir let out a low rumbling. Not a bark. Not a growl. Something almost like laughter, but deep and from the belly. <<Uhrfuhrfuhrfuhrf…>> Once the pair reached the bottom of the ramp, Gaarchiir hung back a bit, and let Ervisa do all the talking. She was turning on the charm and the words for the cops. Not something that was in Gaarchiir’s area of expertise. No, instead the Wookiee kept one hand on the strap to his bowcaster, and his eyes narrowed, watching for any sudden movements. Any quick grabs for a gun, or cuffs. But none came. Relaxing a bit, even slouching some, as the security forces left, Gaarchiir fell into step besides Ervisa, grumbling at her. <<After almost a week of whatever was on that ship? I’ll eat anything.>> Imperial rations kept one nourished, but they were tasteless as all hell, and salty too. Though salads weren’t the Wookiee’s preferred food, he wasn’t averse to a spot of greens every now and then. Maybe with some chicken mixed in, and bacon bits, with a bit of cheese… Meat. Gaarchiir definitely wanted a nice piece of meat. And he wasn’t picky about what it was. The Wookiee wasn’t a picky eater in general, but when he got a craving, it had to be sated. <<I think I might know a place that you can get a salad, and bit of everything else. How’s that sound?>> Taking over the lead, Gaarchiir walked through the streets of Cloud City, hoping he remembered his way. He’d only been here once, and spent the majority of the time trying not to look at the edge of the town. But he distinctly remembered visiting a real nice buffet with a large bar just for salads and vegetables. The Wookiee’s only good memory of Bespin. |
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Sept 25, 2016 21:06:10 GMT -5
"Sounds good to me," Ervisa confirmed, giving the Wookiee a nod and following him. He cut through crowds like an icebreaker, and she was definitely glad to have him around. Not in the least because of lightbulbs. It was like having a- She halted the thought when she thought better of comparing an arm-ripper-out-of-sockets person with any kind of pet. Discretion is the better part of valor...
Ervisa kept up with his long strides, and sure enough he led them into a light commercial district and an illuminated sign reading 'Sarda's Galactic Cuisine. BUFFET.'
Normally Ervisa made it a point to avoid buffets. She didn't like random people handling her food, and 'family style' tended to bring back tedious memories of parental nagging around a low table on the floor. Her father always came to mind, balding with a bushy beard. Preaching to her about the importance of defacing her body with nontraditional tattoos or piercings...
She'd covertly gotten her first piercings in a very very nonpublic area to prevent any kind of lecture.
"Hey, I get it," She said cheerfully upon entering, "Guy your size, probably takes a buffet to get enough."
She politely elbowed him in the rib. She could just barely reach the bottom one, and she knew it wouldn't ever be hard enough to bother.
She slapped down the chips at the counter, and advanced forward to the plates. Quickly a salad was on her plate, with crispy nuna in a Nautolan jerk sauce. Somehow, completely by chance, a piece of pie had appeared on her plate too.
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