Symphony of Destruction

Another sleepless night. How annoying.

Arc sat in the galley of the Red October, a strong drink in hand. He had added a energy tablet to ensure he was awake until at least nightfall. It was helpful in a pinch and even brought people out of shock induced coma's if administered quickly enough. He sipped at his drink, his red eyes looking at nothing in particular as he sat in relative silence. His arms were still bandaged from the little shenanigans he had pulled off after the departure off of Balosaur and they still stung from time to time, a rather more desired punishment then what he would've felt if the blaster bolt had hit him dead on.

The idea of gaining some extra protection rather then doning flimsy, light resistant clothing had been swirling in his mind since that time. He had always done well without bloody armor, finding it rather encumbering but he was considering it. His eyes went from empty space to a figure that had entered the room, Arc recognized it was Ocelot and nodded in greetings at the man that was his boss currently. Arc had no idea where they were heading off to at the moment and was wondering wheither to ask Ocelot or not but decided he would make an announcement of some kind at a later time.

Rather randomly the cold air of the ship was made apparent as Arc got goosebumps, his torso exposed with just a muscle shirt on without his duster. The blasted thing was ruined partially, a shame rather because it had been a gift from one of the crime lords he had served on Coruscant so many years ago. The bounty hunter shrugged it off, he had a black one in his chest of things in his room. It was a easy fix.

Shifting his head slightly his black hair fell in front of his eyes and the bounty hunter sighed with irritated boredom and shook the hair out of the way with a quick head shake. He took another drink out of his concotion and continued to sit there.

Bored.

Melody was in and out of her quarters. If she wasn’t out, she was in, and if she wasn’t in, she was out. It was as simple as that. There wasn’t much the blonde haired woman could do. Her datapad kept her occupied with stories of the galaxy and stories in particular. Fantasies and sci-fi, and things of the like. She figured she should probably get lessons to learn another popular language, other than depending on Basic and he knowledge of Bocce. Basic could get her places, but then she’d have to deal with a droid to translate for her. She didn’t mind the translators, she just wished she could understand what was actually being said half the time. If she could understand, then she could respond the way she wanted, not relying on a droid.

In her life time, Melody’s only droid experiences were a grand total of little. There was that one time the bloody mouse droid her father kept around tripped her. Psychotic little thing, buzzing this way and that and making Melody and Ranz chase after it. And then, from there, a couple of translating experiences. The rest were ordering droids to load her baby (Eagle Strike) with the precious cargo. And even then, it was deactivated droids or droid parts sometimes.

Melody blinked, realizing she was staring into space with her head tilted to the ceiling. Her hands slapped her face and she ran them across her face, groaning. She sat up, swinging her legs out from her bunk and did a survey of her quarters. Her eyes wandered, searching for something of any interest. Probably to just focus while Melody’s brain wandered away into useless little tangents. Melody turned her head, hand taking a hold of her pillow. She lifted her pillow and removed the pair of socks that were under there and put those on. Reaching up, she snagged the beige trousers hanging from a personally arranged hook over her bed and wriggled herself into those. Pulling a bit at her somewhat clingy tank top to hide a little more than shoe a little more, Melody mussed up her lightly curled hair to a set level of decency.

She stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment. Blue eyes stared back at her. Blue as Daddy’s. Since the last mission with the two little girls, Melody had been reflecting on the past, back from five years ago to further. She couldn’t help she failed him in some way. She failed a dead man. Melody chuckled lightly at the thought, the corner of her mouth uplifting at her in the mirror. And then it was gone as she leaned over and ran water over her hands, washing away the residue from sleep. Shaking her hands a couple of times and blowing past a towel, she patted her hands against her thighs, leaving streaks of darkened color on her pants. She keyed her door open with one hand, scooping up her belt and clipping it around her waist. As always, the belt slanted on her hips as she walked out, making sure the door was set to lock when it closed.

She glanced right, then left, not quite sure why she had done so and then took the left way. Might as well as see if there was something worth eating or drinking in the galley, she thought. She past by other doors, leading to other quarters, peering at each one and reminding herself who exactly was behind it. She paused by what would’ve been Xander’s quarters, her lips pressing together and sliding to one side of her face in something of a bittersweet memory. Overzealous the Zeltron may have been, and led by his hormones, he had managed enough to pull smiles off of Melody. Eh, well, she had figured he had left when they reached Alderaan. He hadn’t been in there when Melody went to check on everyone after the girls had been returned to their father. Well, she wished him well.

Something flittered in Melody, something made of impulsiveness and whim. Coming into the galley, Melody shoved off with one foot, sending her sliding easily into the galley as if she were on skates. However, the appearance of Arc startled and caught Melody’s attention. She hadn’t expected anyone to be up and in here. With the little startle, her balance became a tad off. Her arms came up to balance her out, and caught herself on the wall. Well, slid into the wall that is. Her socked feet had a little bit of difficulty finding good purchase on the floor for a few minutes, and she stared at Arc for a moment.

“Um… Tada?” she said, a little unsure. She leaned off the wall and lifted a strap of her tank top back onto her shoulder where it had fallen off. “I didn’t really expect to see anyone up. Everyone’s kinda snoozing away.” Melody walked around Arc and in a few moments found herself some kind of fruit juice and came back to sit down. Course, leaning to sit down, her feet slipped once again and she fell rather heavily into the seat. Her eyes bugged a little at the pain in her behind, but her face quickly shifted back to neutral. Shifting a little, her fingers cradled her juice glass. “You know you have good socks when they slip around on every shiny surface.”

It was an odd thing for a bounty hunter that had for so long been a bane to any legit organization. Arc's reputation was once feared in the Coruscanti underground for his ruthlessness and his quick mind. Many had fallen before him and he had made many enemies, never flinching and always welcoming the challenge. There was little to nothing that surprised or startled him, because he had seen hell and back.

Arc had betrayed employers for others, destroyed buildings, murdered people, annilihated groups of opponents that were in the way of his bounty. He had single handly been the force behind the downfall of one of Coruscants most powerful crime lords, stunning the man in a specially crafted chamber that was "supposed" to be for security but had been rigged to use neuro-poison. If he feared anything, it was little and near insignificant.

However, it would seem that the smuggler girl was apart of that little as she came sliding in unannounced and broke Arc's silent meditation of sorts. He jumped slightly at the noise just as she did and his heart had skipped a beat from the sudden rush. Quite embarrased by this he put his hand up to his brow for a moment to recompose himself. Ruthless bounty hunter indeed. Scared by a woman of all things.

"Um...Tada?" was all Arc heard as he dropped his hand back onto the table, his heart returning to normal.

"Yes...very nice" remarked the bounty hunter as he watched Melody re-adjust her tank top and then walk over to get a drink. This one had interested him since her arrival on the Red October. It was probably her chipper additude and humorus antics that set her apart from the rest of the crew.But as a mental note however he had to give her credit for the surprise heart attack, he didnt even get those when his targets would throw a surprise plasma grenade. Arc couldnt pinpoint it but the smuggler intrigued him to some degree.

As she sat down, Arc smirked a little as she slipped and landed rather hard on her butt. Looking at her face, seeing those sapphire blue eyes he could only nod when she mentioned about her socks, the bounty hunter seemed at a loss of words for the moment.

A rare mental block?

Arc didnt care for that one bit as he went to grab his glass that sat by his left arm. He grabbed it with his right hand and was about to take a drink when as he brought it back he struck a sore spot on his arm as he bumped the hard glass against it. He inhaled deeply in an attempt to cover up the jolt of pain that shot up his arm. "That tickled a bit", was all he could say as he slowly was let loose of the grip of pain he had just been clenched in. He was looking stupid and he knew it.

Holding the glass he looked over his shoulder to where he had seen Ocelot. "It is a bit early for most. Im surprised to have company this early besides Ocelot but i often wonder if he even sleeps". Putting down the drink, careful of his arms which were now renew with dull pain, he looked once more back at Melody. "Whats your excuse? Early bird?"

Money.

That was all that the woman cared about. Currency. She, quite honestly, cared for little more than coin... that was why she was a Bounty Hunter after all, the coin involved was fairly substantial to be honest. She had brought in bounties all over the big damn 'verse, signed mercenary contracts for some of the biggest corporations, and hunted some of the dangerous criminals in the galaxy. All in the name of wealth.

Or so she would like people to believe.

The truth behind the Rilan woman that was Lanara Skysiri was that she had quite a sense of honor. Slavery was evil, as was rape and generally going against the law. Though she would easily overlook the latter of the trio. She also had a bleeding heart. Hence her reaction to the beggar on Balosar... giving the woman all of the coin that she had in her pocket (which happened to be around one hundred credits by the by.)

Not that she would ever allow people to know about her core. Save Remi-.

Why had she taken such a liking to that man? The fiery woman gave a slight sigh as she pulled the covers off of her form. Lana was still in that clingy tank top and rather short shorts, not bothering to change since her little bout with those Bounty Hunters. Remiel was mysterious. That must have been it! That was why she had taken such a liking to the blond... of course his looks didn't hurt things either...

"Woah there, Lanara. Little hasty on that front, aren'tcha? Rem's a good lookin' guy 'n' all... but a man like 'em ain't gonna be much interested in a woman like you," her thought rippled out as she caught herself thinking about the tall blond Jedi. And not in the innocent school girl kind of way. She squelched the thought as soon as it came, giving it no mercy as she squished it below the weight of her consciousness.

The fiery Rilan slowly got up and slipped into something rare... something that looked remotely feminine. Instead of her general military-style battle dress uniform bottom she elected to put on a rather tight(ish) form fitting pair of pants. Yes, crazy of her to dress in the rare feminine-style attire, she knew, but the woman had to act like one every so often.

It wasn't long until she found herself striding into the galley, not really paying attention to Arc and Mel too much other than to say something like: "Mornin' Mel," to the latter of the duo. Lanara was far too entralled in her thoughts (of Rem, naturally) that she, for some odd reason, couldn't stop thinking about him. The woman hoped that he couldn't hear her thoughts... she caught her dad doing that on occasion.

It would be awful embarressing...

"Yes...very nice"

Melody had merely smiled at that during the process of retrieving juice. “Really? Had a known me sliding into walls had been so amusing, I might’ve done it sooner.” Such a quirky little smile on her pink lips. “But, alas, I think I like keeping my bones more intact than not. So, sliding right into walls is not on the top of my priority list, get it?” And by then she had been sitting down, slipping, and paining her backside. There was a fake sort of glower at his smirk, but her face shifted back into that relaxed sort of expression.

Had she really startled him sliding in like that? Melody had jumped, but, wasn’t he supposed to be some kind of bounty hunter? Bounty hunter had a greater experience on surprises than smugglers did, Melody thought. Well, as a smuggler and knowing how to pilot a ship, there was some occasions where dodging and running away were required. But that was more fun. If one wasn’t bothered about whether their flesh was going to be charred if their ship exploded. Or if their body was exposed to the cold, deadweight of space compressing their lungs and making them bleed from the ears as they suffocated before their ship had been blasted into an oblivion. When a person got passed all those, running away and dodging and evading governments, or simply people who wanted to kill you, it was all a game. It had been for Melody. Hell, she’d had to get used to the lifestyle since she was five. After twenty years, doing crafty things of that sort came as easily to her as dancing did. Dancing never got old, and neither did the chase.

But, seriously, bounty hunters were those who really faced off Death and shoved his dealings back down his throat. Along with a few bullets or a couple of grenades. Back on Balosar, being shot at had pumped so much fear and adrenaline into the smuggler woman that she had thought she was going to faint or die from it. Yeah, bounty hunters were those crazy people with sometimes the crazy aim and crazy enough to walk over top a beeping, ready to detonate grenade and be far enough when the damn thing exploded. Bounty hunters also had some kind of people skills. Even if those people skills were “I shoot you and you just be dead, kay?”. Melody had been all but anti-social. Well, no, she took that back. There were clubs and cantinas and funny little bars she had always gone to, had a nice time, flirted with a few men, and then left drunk as all hell. Course, then she had to face a client (usually) the next morning. And sometimes she wondered how she had even gotten a few of her past jobs. So, wait, bounty hunters did have some talking people skills. Clients and contractors. Yeah… good times. Always great people those contractors and clients were. Bantha brains and sons of kath hounds, they usually were. Been there, done that, far too many times to count.

Melody had been leaning back in her seat, watching Arc as she mused. He went to take a drink of… whatever it was that Melody could smell the liquor from where she sat, and seemed to bump his arm in the process. She blinked, remembering he had been injured back on Balosar, and therefore didn’t give him a curious glance when he drew a sharp breath and held it, jaw locking and body stiffening a little.

"That tickled a bit.”

Now Melody gave him a rather curious stare. She sipped her juice, raising an eyebrow at his grimace as he said those words. “Funny, I would expect tickles to bring a little more laughter.” And then she sighed, dropping the humor. “Seriously, though, did you even treat those correctly?” Melody felt a little bad then and there. Her thigh had been shot, but Remiel had used his brain full of magic tricks and healed it up to some degree. It didn’t hurt, and there was a small scar now. Her left upper arm and a bit of the forearm were bandaged themselves, from blaster shots and a somewhat nasty cut she had gotten from her adventures on Balosar. They were healing finely, faster than she had expected, and it probably had something to do with the blonde man. Rem, for as all scary he was too her, she wouldn’t deny he had good intentions. Even if those good intentions were enhanced by his voodoo and scared all but the living daylights out of Melody.

Her excuse? For what, being awake? Oh, early bird. Yeah, he was asking to why she was up so early. What time was it, really? Melody hadn’t even looked at her datapad.

“Oh, just, too much sleep plus,” Melody’s hands were free and she made a plus sign with two of her fingers, crossing them as she spoke, “Boredom. Can’t sleep any more when bored. Besides, once I wake up, it’s pretty useless trying to go back to sleep. Won’t be able to do it. So therefore, those two equal…” She probably had all good intentions of making an equal sign as she was speaking, truly. But, one hand had fallen back to her half empty glass, leaving one hand to tell the story. Instead of making an equal sign with two fingers parallel, she instead made a side-ways ‘v’ with her middle and index fingers. She paused, her eyebrows knitting together a moment. The blonde haired woman glanced down at her fingers. “And that is not an equal sign but a greater than… or less than as it looks to you.” Her hand let go of the juice glass and her elbows leaned on the table, and she jutted her two index fingers parallel to each other. “EQUALS, well, I’m up and around and running into walls and falling on my ass.”

Melody sipped her juice, eyes on Arc. “All right, I have a question for you…” she leaned forward a little, peering at him but her blue eyes never left his red ones. “Did you use red food coloring for eye drops accidentally one day or something?”

And that was around the time Lanara had come in. Melody’s back was to the entrance, and she hadn’t really been paying attention, talking to Arc and all. So when Lana stated her “Mornin’ Mel”, Melody would’ve literally jumped from her skin had it been possible. She went to turn quickly, to see what was behind her and nearly slipped out of her seat, feet sliding wildly across the smooth galley floor. She caught herself however, slapping the length of her hand and forearm against the table, the other hand covering where her heart would be.

“GODS! You hunting people need to stop sneaking up on me everywhere. You’ll make this lil’ smuggler turn into two little piles of one being skin and the other bones. And then my ghost will have to haunt you for the rest of your life and I don’t think you want that very much. From what I understand from the ghost stories I’ve heard, they aren’t exactly the most delightful lives.”

((YAY! Time for the big scary voodoo doctor to enter the picture! Gods you people write a lot ~_~ ...and before you say anything, YES I know I need to reply to Lana still Dire ))


Sleep, real sleep anyway, was a rare thing for the rilan grey jedi. Sometimes he wondered if the word even had a place reserved in his mental dictionary. It certainly had after their last mission. Three hours he'd stayed awake after healing Lanara and Melody before he'd fallen asleep for the better part of a day and a half. He'd even missed out on saying goodbye to those sweet little girls they'd saved. Now he thought back on it, perhaps that was a good thing. Since he'd gone on that mission he'd managed to do nothing more than frighten and alienate people starting with poor little Melody. She acted like she'd never seen a jedi before, not that that really surprised him, most of the people who lived on the fringe of society didn't often want to meet a jedi...if they did it was likely at the end of a saber for their crimes. That fear had then been transferred over to Lanara when he'd told her about her family's....history. Thankfully she'd seemed to deal with her, far more understandable, fear than Melody could deal with hers. With this knowledge, the former jedi had all but barricaded himself in his room, keeping out of the way of others when he felt the need for nourishment, the small bathroom in his quarters keeping him out of the way of others much more easily than if it'd been a matter of share and share alike.

With sleep no longer an issue, the blond kept himself aware of the happenings outside of his room with the force. It wasn't difficult to do really, he'd often slunk about the ship, coming close to people's minds through the thoughts they radiated, or by sending out 'feelers' to slither through the corridors, or just simply feeling the echos that they created in the force in general to judge what they might be doing and if everyone was well enough. Melody was fairly at ease it seemed not having seen him around for a while (out of sight out of mind he supposed), Arc seemed to be in his usual gruff mood punctuated by pain (he'd have to try and remedy that later), Axle seemed to be in his fairly typical mood (nothing particularly wrong save perhaps a heightened sense of paranoia), the gen'dai he tried to stay away from in general (something about a bundle of nerves walking around that called itself 'bounty hunter' made the grey jedi nervous), Xander was gone it seemed, Ocelot and Lanara...their thoughts tended to be focused on him...for two different reasons. Ocelot felt as if he were curious, and perhaps a bit concerned and miffed about his presence as part of his crew. Well, he had told the man that the Rilan people had an affinity for the force...why, then, did he seem so surprised? Perhaps he'd not expected him to be trained in it. Lanara on the other hand...she was interested in HIM, not just his background.

All of this brought him up to the present moment where he was sleeping.

Again.

It was amazing just how much healing could take out of a Rilan.

Eventually, however, golden eyes opened and slowly dissolved back into blue as he lay there on the bed silently. For a moment he kept himself locked away, closed to the force, mute, def, blind. For a moment he was just a man. The mind woke slowly, grasping his surroundings, replaying his past and present and allowing it to burn at the inside of his mind, reopening that deep scar to remind himself of just what he had done and what his goals were. Then, and only then, did he allow the force to flood his being again, a welcome soothing calm to the injured heart and soul. Deigning to move finally, he sat up, putting the covers aside, and stood clothing himself simply. No armor today...not yet...he had a mind to practice if there was room enough, and...well, on that notion perhaps he needed the armor after all. Huffing, he turned and tossed his coat aside once more before sliding on and buckling the well used, and well cared for, leather armor. It covered most of his clothing, so he wondered if perhaps he shouldn't just leave the coat behind. A shake of his head and he'd decided to take it with him. That coat served as the standard jedi robes would, including lightsaber storage. Pulling the red coat on, he checked to make sure that everything was in order (yup, saber was still there) before he closed it around himself securely.

Slipping out of his room quietly, the blond headed down the corridor. It didn't take more than two steps to figure out that the waves in the force he was feeling so near by were Ocelot moving towards him. Didn't surprise him really, the man was practically radiating the fact that he wished to speak to Remiel, and so the blond man, slightly grudgingly, complied. It certainly wasn't physical training, but he couldn't really avoid it any longer. As the captain of this crew Ocelot at least deserved some answers. It wasn't long, then, until the rilan man came face to face with the captain of the ship.

You wanted to speak to me....

I suppose I have answers for some, maybe all, of your questions. Where would you like to talk?

It wasn't so much of a question as a statement, that opening line. Remiel already knew the man had wanted to speak to him. He'd felt it coming, it had just been a matter of when. That 'when' seemed to be now.

Really? Had a known me sliding into walls had been so amusing, I might’ve done it sooner.But, alas, I think I like keeping my bones more intact than not. So, sliding right into walls is not on the top of my priority list, get it?

Arc smirked slightly at this. The smuggler was witty, a quality he didn't care for in his prey but welcomed when among others.
"I would hope so, the noise it makes is rather...unappealing" he commented, swirling the drink in his glass with his hand.

He still couldn't believe he jumped at something so stupid. Arc was all to aware that he had done it. Wait. Why did he care? This small thought was a big explosion in his mind, for it was rather a surprise yet so obvious. He was Arc Laud, he had killed his own damn parents to secure his future. He had a credit account near overflowing and had the skills to take out any man who dared cross his path. He had NOTHING to fear.

Then why did you jump?

The little voice in his mind serving as his little annoyance at the moment had an excellent point. However it was a mute and dead point, it was a small unexplainable matter that was in the past. Even if it was embarrassing.

When she mentioned the injuries he had received, he swore he could put a blaster to his head and pull it. They were humiliating to say the least, he hadn't received a god damn battle wound in months! And even then it was a simple scratch from a blade or a bruise! Her concern for this little dishonor was...touching but it made him feel like a child in front of his mother being lectured. Arc brought the glass up to his lips and drew from it, liking the cold liquid that flowed down his throat which had apparently gone dry on a whim in the last few seconds.

"I have pain killers, about all I need. Its not the worst wound I've gotten by far."

Realizing his drink was now empty, Arc rested the glass on the table and frowned in disappointment. He hated finding the bottom of his glass. While he didn't typically drink alcohol all the time, it was preferred during a time of rest and he REALLY didn't feel like getting up at the moment to get another. Despite his often overzealous hunting effort, he could he one of the laziest people in the galaxy depending on the situation.

When she gave her reason for being up early, which was apparently not early since he had seen more then a few people up already he could only nod. Boredom. Yeah boredom was a pest and didn't help in the sleep process along with oversleep. Arc however wouldn't mind a decent night of sleep and it wasn't his "injuries" that kept him up. The memory flashes in his dreams bothered him like a bad itch. Never leaving and always pestering him. The images weren't exactly PG-13 and all pertained to his past jobs but he didn't fret over them. The credits in his bank that were reward for those jobs were more then enough to pay for any therapist he would need to resolve them if he chose to do so.

The next conversation made Arc only have an arched brow as he tried to not chuckle at Melody's "plus" signs and negatives as she tried to explain on the sleep ordeal. It was rather amusing and Arc hid a small grin behind his partial fisted hand that covered his mouth with his nose resting on it. At least she didn't have the issue of feeling stupid when explaining something. And he continued to grin until Melody took a drink from her glass and her eyes went on his.

“All right, I have a question for you…” was all she said before she actually LEANED in towards Arc. Something that caught him off-guard as her blue eyes were locked onto his red ones in a look of curiosity. “Did you use red food coloring for eye drops accidentally one day or something?”

His red eyes looked into hers unwavering as he tried to decide to best explain that. It was a rather odd attribute to say the least and while not many had had the audacity to ask him bluntly themselves he knew many people often stared when they saw the blood red orbs. Arc had never really understood the color himself, neither his mother or father had possessed such eyes. His crime lord bosses often said his eyes were a physical representation of his destiny. He merely believed them fools but he actually didn't have an answer for, as much as he would like to give one.

Not letting his eyes leave hers for some unexplainable reason on his behalf, besides possibly ego, like as if staring down a Kath hound to prove superiority. That wasn't the case because the woman didn't make him feel superior. I think the word would be confused.

''A interesting question that oddly enough i dint have an answer for. Your guess is as good as mine...though i would hope i hadn't used food coloring as eye drops" was all he could say, the idea rather outlandish but had a hint of humor to it so he took it as such. "Some say its a omen dealing with my profession but there mad as rakghouls in my opinion"

As he stared into her eyes, waiting for a reply or her to break the stare, something he would much like to happen because he felt like her eyes were laser pointers that were marking him for a missile strike. Arc couldn't help but let his mind wander for a moment. She had a cute face, her hair was a nice compliment to her skin tone.

And then it hit. Out of the clear his mind had went somewhere it rarely went and he found that his cheeks had gone warm. A god damn blush!! Arc Laud was blushing, had he lost his damn mind?!

However if by some act of a unforeseen being, Lanara had come in and greeted Melody, causing the smuggler to break her examining of his eyes and sent off a chain of events that caused the girl to act as if she had just seen a ghost AND had a heart attack. This gave Arc time to rise from his seat and say somewhat quickly

"As much as I would like to chat, i need to do inventory of my ammunition. Talk to you later", he tried to sound as mellow as possible as he walked briskly out of the room in the most composed manner possible.

The need for searching was removed as Rem approached Ocelot as he was making his way along the corridor. He wasn't even surprised when Rem seemed to know Ocelot's purpose. Well it was common sense, you didn't need the Force to tell you that they needed to talk. Ocelot wasn't mad at Rem, he was just slightly discontented is all. It was just proper etiquette, and Ocelot was a man who still believed in such things. He ran his hand across his face, and realized that he hadn't even had time to shave lately. Just another thing to add to his already long list of things to do.

He motioned for Rem to follow him as he made his way back the way he had just come. A minute of traversing through the ship brought them back to his quarters. He entered the room, watched the door slide shut as he moved to his desk. He sat down slowly, pointing to another seat across from him offering it to Rem. He looked at the man before him, he was quite an interesting character. He winced slightly as the scar across his face sent a jolt of pain through him. Though it had been more than a year ago it still hurt occasionally. Tracing his finger over the scar, then his eye patch, before finally dropping his hand back to his side.

"The reason we are speaking is quite obvious of course. I have only but a few questions and then you can go about your business. My background check on you didn't turn up much, for which I am sure there is a reason.

The safety of my crew is one of my highest priorities, and in all honesty there is a chance you may be compromising it. I can tell you are the type who would not put them in harms way intentionally though. So my questions are simple, Are you being hunted by any Jedi or people of those nature?What was that whole thing with burning the warehouse? and finally....can you control yourself? I can't have you getting a little angry and immolating everyone in my ship"

There was no anger or blame in his voice, just want for understanding. He needed to know that he could trust every member in his crew. In this game, you needed a crew to watch your back and you watch theirs. You can't have someone at your back that you can't trust. All Ocelot needed was an assurance that he could trust this man sitting before him.

The ship stood before him; cold, rusty, and silent. He strode the halls of what looked like the October, stopping now and then to try a door that was always locked. Eventually he stepped into the engine room. From the noise and the smoke he could tell that there was something wrong. Extracting his tool belt he discovered there was nothing in it. Panic gripped him as he rushed to the engine to fix it, to do anything to keep the inevitable from happening. Slowly the ship fell apart around him and he looked down, the land of some unknown planet rushed up to meet him. He tried to extend his wings, to fly, but nothing happened. He looked around behind him but his wings weren't there. He looked back down and he saw a multitude of people standing below him, expressions of rage on each of their faces. His eyes slammed shut, trying to lock the image of their faces out...

Axle awoke in a cold sweat, his blankets strewn about the cockpit. For the moment he lay there, panting for breath and trying desperately to block the images from his thoughts. Sitting upright he looked at the clock on the control panel; he had only slept for a few hours, but with no desire to return to his nightmares he stretched. The nightmares he had were worsening. The past week he had been haunted by the images; faces of unknown people, falling without wings, a feeling of hopelessness. What did it all mean.

Trying to get his mind off of his fears Axle gazed about the small cabin. Bits and bobs were strewn everywhere, pieces of the Journey that he had been tinkering with the night before. It almost looked like his cot was floating on a sea of debris, the access panel to the hyperdrive still popped open. The trip had been a long one and the only thing he could do when he October was at peak performance was try to keep the Journey in working order. This time it was the hyperdrive; he had taken the housing apart and discovered a coolant leak among other things. He had grown tired before he could finish so he intended to finish it the next morning.

Pulling his wings tight to his back Axle set to his task, reassembling the components and carefully returning them to their proper place. Again his mind wandered, this time to more pleasant things. Lanara's wounds had been well taken care of and Axle had checked up on her every day or so, reassuring himself that his one-time companion was still alive. Soon after she was up and around, however, he had returned to his old methods; avoiding contact with the crew if he could help it. In truth, Axle blamed himself for Lanara's injury and forgiveness was something he did not deserve.

Then there was Rem, it was almost if the blond man was looking at him differently. Perhaps it had something to do with what he felt when they had departed Balosar, he didn't know. Rem was the crew member Axle trusted the most but the young man had alienated him instead of embracing their unique connection. Though he was definitely getting paid well for his services, and the crew accepted him for who they thought he was, Axle was starting to doubt the wisdom of his signing on with Ocelot.

At long last, with a pop and a click, the housing was back in one piece. Wiping his brow Axle slammed the access closed and sat back down on his cot. From the grease and grime stained reflection that stared back at him he begrudgingly decided to go have a wash-up, perhaps a bite to eat. He hoped that few crew members would be up at that early hour as he slid toward the hatch-cover to the ship, slipping a long sleeved shirt over his back and wings. Pulling the hatch open Axle slipped out, misjudged his weight distribution, and fell flat on his face with a dull thud.

"Oww.... "What a wonderful start to the day. "Flippin'... oww."

Picking himself up off the cold floor he rubbed his nose, the rough surface had won that round, but he would get it back. Axle smiled at this thought and moved down the hallway, still rubbing his nose and forehead. He continued to rub the impact points as he stepped into the galley. He jumped slightly as he realized, How in the world did I miss all three of them... one or two maybe but not all three! He stood there for a moment in all his grease stained glory before he finally muttered a faint "Uh... mornin' all." Stepping past them he slouched over one of the sinks and began washing his arms and face, ensuring that his overshirt did not press too tightly against his back.

Remiel followed silently after Ocelot, only the whisper of his coat the sound of his own passing. Most jedi learned at an early age that silence was golden, in more than one way. Silence allowed you to listen to the force, to others, to the world around you, and it allowed you to move about far more easily without being detected. For a jedi, being undetected could be the making or breaking point of a mission, especially if you didn’t want a fight on your hands. And so it was that they came to Ocelot’s quarters. At first glance they seemed almost as spartan as the rest of the ship. At least he was consistent and didn’t indulge in frivolity. He took the seat offered to him and listened to what the captain had to say, thinking over his questions for a long moment.

Jedi…hmm. If I do have the jedi “hunting” me…and I use that term lightly as the would not be coming…the solution would be easily amended with an explanation and the exchange of whatever objects I own that they feel might belong to them. I doubt, however, that anyone from the jedi is actively searching for me. As for “people of that nature,” if you mean dark jedi, none that I know of, unless they were particularly lucky. I’m a rather tenacious being when it comes to fighting an enemy, and I’m not likely to back down until they are incapacitated or dead. If you mean others of my race…it’s more than unlikely that they are hunting me anywhere but on my home world. My race is scarce among the galaxy, and with good reason.

He paused a moment and sighed, shaking his head slightly. Yes, he was certainly going to need to practice after this.

The warehouse…yes, that was my doing. The crates that they had in there were far more contraband than was needed, and it seemed to be weaponry for the most part by the way it exploded…either way, there were far more rodents in that warehouse than we could have hoped to outrun with the children, so I did what was needed to rid the galaxy, and ourselves, of a good number of slavers who would have come looking for us in the end anyway. If you are asking what it was I did…it is a skill I, rather unfortunately, learned I had in a very similar situation.

As for if I can control myself…

Rem chuckled slightly, giving Ocelot a bright smile.

Well, captain, if I couldn’t control myself, we would have been IN that explosion. I train on the power daily, and my emotions are well controlled. You need have no fear of my creating a funeral pyre for us before our time has come because of my temper. I would leave the situation before it came to that, and shortly thereafter I would leave the crew. I have enough innocent, and non-innocent, blood on my hands without adding this crew’s blood as well.

Rest assured, Ocelot, that I would much rather my life end to protect or heal the people on this ship than to cause them harm or death. I honestly do much prefer life to death in most any circumstance.

((OOC: Broken Gate (clicky) I've been looking around wookieepedia for a really long time to be able to put a name on the martial art that Lan knows. Thats it, fits perfectly with her style and history as to why she knows it.))

Almost the instant that she let out that “Mornin' Mel” the smuggler that the greeting was directed at nearly had a heart attack. Or five. The woman whipped around faster than a Corellian banshee bird to see who greeted her, and in the process she nearly slid out of her seat. The loud slam of Mel catching herself by slapping her arm against the table caused the auburn haired woman to jump back into a martial arts stance that only one trained at the Jedi temple would know. Lanara wasn't trained by the Jedi, but her parents were... and it just so happened that they taught her the martial art of Broken Gate. Well, that makes it sound like a coincidence, they didn't “just so happen” to teach her the said art, they taught it to her because she was getting bullied at school because of her eyes.

Ultramarine pools in her eyes darted between the two people that stood before her as Mel spoke, her now battle ready mind still looking for some kind of threat that didn't exist there. In other words, Lanara was still in “kick mucho asso” mode. Despite the new school of thought that dominated her mind, the Rilan woman's face was strangely stoic and almost completely devoid of emotion. The obviously defensive stance that the woman held was beginning to loosen when Axle entered the room, her arms slowly dropped down to her side and those bent knees straightened out to a more normal position.

“Morning, Axle... and Mel... you think that you got surprised,” a suppressed giggle bubbled out of her mouth “I nearly killed everyone here with my pinky. Then I'd have lots-a-ghosts hauntin' me then, wouldn't I?”

An amused smirk played across the woman's face as she continued on to the kitchen area of the galley. If there was one thing that she picked up in her relatively short time as a Bounty Hunter, it was how to cook things that looked barely edible, yet managed to taste amazing. She couldn't always rely on her quarry picking a nice 'n' civilized planet with restaurants to hide. Quite the opposite actually, she counted on her quarry going to places like Felucia, or Myrkr. By the Force and Goddess above she hated those two planets, yet they seemed to call to people trying to get away from her. Well, not so much Myrkr, barely anyone knew of that planet. Lan vowed to never go there again, no, not after what happened with those giant dog things (Vornskrs). Those crazy pooches only seemed to attack her... and Lanara barely got out of that mark alive, not even bothering to give the guy she was chasing any more... well... chase.

Lanara looked over at Axle as he began to clean his arms, presumably to wash up for food. She couldn't help but notice that there were a few red marks on the boy's face, and another amused smirk contored one side of the Rilan's lips as a tinge of green entered her eyes.

“Kiss the floor, Axle?”

Sylbia breathed shallowly as she squeezed between the two port ion drives of the Red October. "How did the old crew ever work on this I wonder." she said to herself as she spun in the tiny work space her partially collapsed rib cage moving in ways that weren't always particularly pleasant. "ah there you are." she said reaching up to pop the panel down from the bottom of the ion engine. "Ok Ki I've found it hand me the new Moduleizer." she asked reaching her hand out so the little blue spider droid could hand the device to her...where ever he was.

Sylbia torqued her eyebrows as the little droid began chirping at her. "What do you mean you won't!?" she asked in a tone between anger and disbelief. "Why would I go to the mess, I can't eat with them anyway." Sylbia sighed as the droid continued. "Being friendly? when have you ever cared about friendliness ki." sylbia grunted. "Fine, fine I'll go. Go get some of the nutrient packs from my room." Sylbia slid out of the compartment just in time to catch sight of the droid scurry out of the engine room. She stood up and popped her chest into proper place and ran her hand along the side of her face. She grunted as she saw the smear of black grease along the palm of her hand and certainly on her face.

As she slowly entered the common area of the ship she half hid have sheepishly waved at the others that she saw begining to concentrate before ducking into the kitchen and running smack into lanara's back. Slybia stumbled and wrapped her arms around the woman's waist to stop herself from falling before mumbling something to the effect of "smooth sylbia, smooth." before loosening her grip on the much taller woman and flushing bright blue. "Sorry Lan, I um, didn't see you. I uh, well, er, you'll need to wash your shirt I'm afraid I erm, dirtied it?" she said slowly hesitantly and rather choppily as the finally let go of the woman and spun around to face the sink practically bumping into poor Axle. "Oh, hi, um, morning..." she said shyly. "Oh, this is going to be a disaster she groaned in her mind."

He listened quietly as the man before him spoke his part. Ocelot nodded here and there acknowledging the man's various points. He looked closely into a man's eyes, reading them for any signs of deception. Years of bad jobs, ambushes, and even interrogation had given Ocelot the ability to read people. Then again, he was trying to read a Jedi, but his instincts told him that there was no lies in his words. On top of that, he seemed to hold the life of his crew in high regard, and that was important.

"I am satisfied then, it was an inconvenience, but I had to make sure"

Ocelot stood up, and made his way to the comm unit that would patch him through to anywhere in the ship. He hit the button that would transmit throughout the entire ship.

"This is the captain, I need everyone in the galley ASAP" He stated and turned to Rem "Let us go ourselves"

Of course, Ocelot was unaware at the time, that most of the crew was already in the galley. He made his way out of his quarters and towards the galley. He walked at a leisurely pace, for they weren't in any immediate rush to speak of. This mission was going to be a bit different. This time they were walking into something much more dangerous, and knowingly on top of that. Ocelot let out a long sigh just as he entered the galley to find his crew there waiting for him.

"I hope everyone is rested and healed up, this next one should prove to be....fun"

The sounds of the crew moving about coalesced around Axle as he diligently continued to wash his hands and arms in one of the small sinks. He was uncomfortable to be sure. Honestly, he didn't want to confront any of them directly if he didn't have to. His mind eased a little bit even if for an odd reason in and of itself; he was so used to the feeling of uncertainty that his body loosened up. Lanara's voice instantly reversed any relaxation he had allowed himself and he scrubbed harder. The young man blushed red at her remark, the mirror showing the raw marks on his head and nose.

Y... yeah. The first round goes to the floor, but the fight isn't over.

Snatching a hand towel from the rack adjacent to him he turned and set to dry himself off. Pretty much everyone was accounted for, he realized as his eyes wandered around the room. He heard the clunk of metal on metal as Sylbia tromped in and ran smack into Lanara. Giving Lan a perfectly fabricated smile and returned the towel to the rack. Just as he made his move away from the sink he had to scramble back a few feet to keep from running into Sylbia and slammed into the sink again. Steadying himself he looked into the face of the young woman. She had smears of oil here and there as she shyly said good morning. Unable to talk he stood there looking at the pale being, his wings bunching, and relaxing involuntarily. Morning... Stuttering a bit he attempted to save face.

So, uh, I s-see that the port-side engines have been giving you some trouble, eh? I was 'aving a hard time getting in there to get the last few synchonizers replaced but, uh...

His words were interrupted by the entrance of Ocelot and Rem. Using the moment of silence to his advantage, Axle slipped around Sylbia and made his way to the table where Melody was seated. Nodding to her he averted his eyes from Sylbia. Axle saw something in the woman with the grease stained face, something that reminded the outlaw of himself. Shaking his head he disregarded the feelings as Ocelot spoke, noting the exact way he phrased and spoke his words. Something was amiss.

Fun? I suspect it is the same type of fun that any sort of mercenary can desire; the one that pays handsomely?

He spoke as though he was only interested in the money. However, Axle knew that what Ocelot thought of as fun most likely meant dangerous.

The table hummed... then clinked as Jorguns fingers tapped down in unison, one....two...three.... and the pattern continued to five, then repeated. He was silently sitting to himself in the back of the ship. He'd been very quiet, he still was unsure if he wanted to become friendly with the rest of the crew.

The ship had made several stops since departing from that cesspool of a planet that he'd followed ocelot on. Furthermore, since then, much of the crew had seemingly never ventured to the back cargo portion of the ship, and as such never noticed his presence. But that was fine with him.... the people on this ship didn't know who he was, what he'd done... or what he was capable of.

The table he was sitting at seemed to bend and twist under the constant rattling of His fingers. He grimaced, tired... and now bored. He'd been there for several days. aside from the slight interaction with Ocelot when he had come to the back of the ship to speak with him following their departure from the slagged planet, Jorgun was slightly bored. He'd never left the ship.... and his only entertainment was watching the members of the crew interacting and playful flirting, teasing, harassing, scolding.... or other humerous human emotional outputs. Though one member was peculiar to him. There was a non-organic life form, a droid, however it seemed to operate as a human, yet under al observations she was not the same as them. His interest on the one named Sylbia was indeed piqued.

Then after several hours of being awake and waiting for something Ocelot called out over the speaker the need to meet in the Galley as soon as possible. If he had been human, and not covered in armor, he would have been smiling, pleased that finally something was happening.

He stood from his chair, leaving the now bent table behind, sighing at it's appearance, then walked to the door, hovering his hand in front of a censor on the door thereby opening it. He passed through the doorway, and walked steadily, his heavy body and armor weighing down on the durasteel flooring.

The light from the galley opened up into the hallway as he finally reached the entryway, turning to walk inside, ignoring the glances people threw at him... glances asking who the heck he was. He leaned against the back wall, arms crossed, and waited for Ocelot. If anyone knew his history, even remotely.... they would probably have been shocked that, Jorgun, the notorious bounty hunter was here on their ship, and he hadn't attacked them yet.

He twisted his neck, left then right. peering into the crowded room now. Ocelot wasn't here yet.... but the foolish humans and their emotions were running a muck. He pulled a pseudo-huff, then remained silent, his gargantuan size, muscles, weaponry, and armor only looming over the lot.

“I had hoped you hadn’t used food coloring for eyedrops neither. It was kind of the only thing I could think of off the top of my head. Silly maybe, but it sounding like a reasonable explanation. So, omen, aye? Nah, Fate isn’t that cruel on her devices, I wouldn’t think. Maybe there’s some kind of other species in bred through your bloodlines or something, genes that’re still there and you just so happened to pick up. I don’t know. My theory. If you don’t know, then only theories can satisfy the question of your eyes, yes?” Had been her reply to Arc just before that woman Lanara had startled Melody out of her wits.

“Morning Axle… and Mel... you think that you got surprised. I nearly killed everyone here with my pinky.”

“Out of the billion times I’ve heard that, I, a) doubt anyone could be more startled than me. You may hop back in a pretty little fighting stance but I bet I could faint faster than you. And b) you seriously believe you can wager that pinky around and people will “poof”, die? Well, I might if I find it doomsdayingly scary enough. And c) horrible comparison for “A”. Doomsdayingly, added to the dictionary by Melody Prance.” She beamed a smile, as usual, aimed at Lanara as the posed woman relaxed and straightened out once again.

But that smile dimmed away into lips bunching together and moving to one side. Eyebrows growing together, she looked confused. And this was at Arc’s words. Her sapphire eyes slid away from Lanara to the far right corners and her head followed suit. Melody sat there and watched as Arc rose from the table and walked off. “Uh… okay then. Ammo checking sounds like a LOT of fun. And, yes, good morning Antisocial.”

Melody’s grave tone of sarcasm, toward Arc, had given away to a more genuine voice sounding pleased to bid someone a fair morning. There were faint red marks beginning to color his face a little and she couldn’t help but giggle slightly when Lanara asked him if he had kissed the floor. “Ah, oh well, the floor deserves good morning kisses too. Just every now and again so she feels appreciated since she does tolerated our feet smothering her up day in and day out. And personally, I’d find lips to be more pleasant than feet any day.” Melody sipped her juice, thoughts whirling as she thought back to what she had just called Axle. “Meh, but I really shouldn’t call you Antisocial. At least you’re in here, not like the weird thing of a brute we picked up at Balosar. Or, rather, Ocelot picked up. Have you seen that guy hanging out in the cargo room? Now that guy could probably kill everyone with his pinky. Hey there, Sylbia.”

Now that was a woman-like character Melody had deemed the absolute shy one on board. At least she had a cute spider droid always in her presence. Melody did her best to muffle her snickers as the poor, little woman bumped into everyone. She was grease stained… tinkering with the engineering. Axle even said something to her about synchronizers, so Melody assumed as much. The poor gal, already a soft blue hue rising onto her cheeks. As much as Arc’s face had grown red. She had tried so hard not to snicker at it, and if Lanara hadn’t come in, she might not have held it. …Which came to remind her: What kind of bloody excuse was checking ammunition? They weren’t going anywhere yet.

Her thoughts were wondering and processing way too fast. Was there something in the juice?

“Come over here, Sylbia, and sit down beside me. Maybe we can stop running into people that way and staining their already probably dirty clothing, huh? Don’t worry if you stain me, I’ve been there and done that and know the best possible solutions for cleaning.”

"This is the captain, I need everyone in the galley ASAP"

”You know, if the man would come to the galley sometimes he’d recognize that most of his crew is already here and maybe just do bypass pounds on the doors to alert folks who don’t want to be part of the crew that there’s a slightly important meeting about to be happening in the galley. … Then again speaking on the comm unit saves energy and it’s easier. Good stars, I always come up with the hard way first.”

And for once Melody had fallen silent, cradling her juice glass with her fingers and her elbows braced on the table. Her cheek rest against the arch of her hand and her thumbs slid across the bottom of her glass. Her head twisted as three more people entered the galley: Remiel, Ocelot, and that enormous bulk that hides out in the cargo room. Her smile was now gone. The greeting she gave them were acknowledging looks and nods.

There were reasons she wasn’t very vocal of them. Remiel scared Melody. That was all she had to say about that. Ocelot was the boss. She wouldn’t joke around with him too much. No one wanted thrown out of the airlock. And the last person was too damn mysterious and bulky. Melody was starting wondering how Red October was holding onto her space drift forward instead of downward! Well, it wasn’t just mystery. There was something familiar about him, like she knew something about him, like she knew who the bulk was. Not personally, just from rumor and tales she had heard in the thousands of cantinas she’d been to. They were good stories to listen to, hysterical if the teller was drunk enough, but still… what if they weren’t just stories?

“Fun? As in we get shot at again? Pray tell, what will trigger this fun?” Juice sip.

(Alright Im just gonna jump ahead and put us on the ground even though my muse is low and i phail)

Fun....that exactly the opposite of what was going to be happening on Tantooine but they had a job to do. His crew obviously realized the same thing from his tone. Ocelot took a deep breath before continuing with the plan.

"Alright fun may have been the wrong Melody but being shot at, well if everything goes smooth then we won't be. This time we aren't being contracted by someone, which means no more unwelcome surprises. One of my sources has told me that Greegar the Hutt has some highly valuable substances in one of his holds down on Tatooine. This stuff goes for a good amount of money and can be quite useful if given to the right people."

Ocelot paused for a few moments, scanning his crew, studying their reactions. No one here liked Hutts, but crossing one was a very dangerous idea. Most didn't do so willingly, but disgusts of this Hutt and the money was just too good to pass up. If Ocelot had gotten his information from a sketchy source, then he would have automatically rejected it. His source though, was someone he trusted implicitly and she he had decided to act on the tip.

"We all now that crossing a Hutt is not usually a smart thing, and ends badly. That is only if they know who you are, and hence our plan will focus on keeping our identities a secret. We will avoid Greegar entirely and focus on the goods.

This task is going to require all hands, so as I stated before, I hope everyone is ready to go. Our first act of business will be to meet with my contact once we land. He is going to provide us with the necessary details and equipment to proceed with the plan. Though it is looking highly likely that we may need someone to get into Greegar's place to obtain security clearances. That is something we will deal with when the time comes.

Jorgun, I do not know whether you wish to partake in this job or not, I leave the choice up to you. We could always use an extra hand especially with one of your experience.

We will be landing shortly people, so get yourselves ready"

Ocelot made his way back towards the cockpit and strapped himself in the pilots seat. They were just approaching Tatooine and Ocelot vectored them into the atmosphere. Clearing the atmosphere within a few minutes, Ocelot got clearance for landing, and soon the October touched the ground. Unstrapping himself from his seat, he quickly made his way back to his quarters. Ocelot made sure had had all his weapons and gear, and then made his way to the exit ramp.

I hope everything goes smoothly this time

"You want anything?" she had asked him, he recalled clearly there first meeting. Arc sat in one of the many chairs adorning the cantina as his red gaze slowly went to her face. The face of what one would claim was an angel. There eyes met, hers going to his more because of their unusual color then anything but they stared into each other for what seemed eternity till he broke the silence.

"Water" he said, their eyes breaking as she wrote down the simple order. What a lie it was. Arc hated water, specially the water on Nar Shadda that tasted of metallic rust. He much preferred a strong alcoholic drink, it was a small vacation for him to be able to sit and drink rather then constantly hunt. Gorvic had a lot of enemies, enemies he needed removed and when that became the case, Arc was called in.

The girl's blue eyes gazed on her datapad as she input the code for water. The dim light of the cantina shined off her blonde hair that went to her shoulders, something Arc found himself viewing subconsciously.

"HEY! WENCH! Wheres mah drink!" this statement was followed by a large belch. Both Arc and the girl looked to see a rugged looking man sitting across the room, waving a mug in the air.
"I'll be back with yours in a minute, sir" she said to Arc as she went over to the man, leaving Arc to sit alone in his corner of the cantina. His mind wandered for a bit, mostly to the recent bounty who had been a small few Gorvic had wanted brought in alive when suddenly the sound of glass shattering broke him from his thoughts.

Across the room, the girl was now on the floor, her arms up in defense as the large man was bearing down on her.
"WHERES MY DRINK YE pregnant dog!?" he roared, raising a fist to hit the woman. The girl screamed as the fist dropped and continued for a moment or so but stopped and opened her eyes to see a red duster covered back in front of her. Arc had gotten up and now stood between the drunk and the girl.
"I suggest you sit down. Now." he said, letting the venom in his voice be heard clearly. The drunk just growled and took a swing at Arc's head with his right fist but the bounty hunter tilted it quickly and then delivered a jab into the man's gut. The blow had been placed with utmost precision, right into a vital spot, causing the drunk to bend over with a groan. Arc then slammed his elbow into the back of the man's head, dropping him instantly into unconsciousness.

The girl sat their on the ground silent and motionless until Arc craned his head to look at her on the ground. He then turned and offered her a hand which she took. She got up, her eyes never off Arc as she dusted off her clothes. "Th-thank you" she stammered out, still not quite gripping what had almost happened.

"No problem at all. The names Arc by the way" the bounty hunter replied and offered her a hand which she gripped and both stared each other in the eyes once again as they shook hands.
"Michelle" she said with a smile.

----------------------------------

"Memories best forgotten", he muttered under his breath as he stood staring at himself in the mirror in his room. The flood that had come in the aftermath with the girl had stopped but had left Arc confused, a feeling he didnt care for at all. He had let that Arc die long ago back of Nar Shadda, he was surprised he remembered such things now. Those were dark times in his life, at least the ones surronding the woman he had almost given up his violent profession for. Arc tried not to remember her and had successfully for the past couple of years.

Until he looked into Melody's eyes. Eyes so like hers.

He grit his teeth as his emotions threatened to well up and burst but he smashed them down through sheer willpower, the only physical representation of this being a low short growl. Emotion caused weakness and he had vowed never to be weak again after Nar Shadda. His years of isolation on Tatooine, his so called "vacation" hadnt done anything to strengthen the wall that kept those memories back. The only thing that had kept the barrier up was his sport, hunting and killing beings as he had been trained and raised to do. The point of his reprieve had been to cool off, to start fresh with so much chaos going about him and his activities. Many had wanted him dead, so going into hiding had been logical at best.

Little did he realize until now it had only chipped cracks into the wall that held back something he didnt want. His humanity. Arc had been weak once and it had cost him everything, he blamed his feelings for the greatest failure in his life. SHE had caused it, Michelle, the lowly cantina waitress that had derailed him from his violent path.

But only for a little while.

The glaring red eyes that stared back at him in the mirror hid a lot from others. The color alone made it hard to detail the agony he had hidden and the pain he had suffered.

The girl had drove a wedge into a crack and now Arc could do nothing but watch.

"This is the captain, I need everyone in the galley ASAP"

His crimson eyes snapped to the intercom box in the corner of the room and slowly digested the words. Going back to the galley was unfortunate, he had wanted more time to himself. To mend the wall and maintain his weaponry, maybe the ammo check he had given as an excuse earlier to the girl. However it would seem fate decreed no rest for the wicked and Arc didnt believe himself anything BUT that.

Arc let out a deep sigh as he walked over to his coat racket and grabbed his black trenchcoat duster. HIS armor. With Onyx and Integra, the black and silver slugthrowers in their holsters on his belt, he felt untouchable. If only that was the case. He left the room, listening to his boots thump down the hallway with each step until he reached the galley. Taking his usual spot, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, he listened to Ocelot detail their next mission.

Stealing from a Hutt?

A sly smile came to his handsome face, as he could only begin to imagine the action that was going to take place with this. It was rather a rule to everyone who had a taste of the criminal underworld.

You dont mess with a Hutt. Especially with his money.

And this time he didnt intend to stay on ship duty. Arc would ensure his pistols would be warm this time and not as a distraction.



[OOC: ALRIGHT! Redone cause what i had done before bed was craptacular. Enjoy]