Strangers on a Hover Train [What If... #1]

[Mara]

(((Note: This is from this thread, who signed up for #1.
If you want to be in #2, sign up.)))


Location: Somewhere outside Umgul City, Umgul, on a hover train
Time: 3601 BBY, SWU alternate universe
Players: Looma Isana [Mara], Kajir Arjun [Kozeph], Roq Nd'ath'terrain'akai [Kella], Kharr [Derriphan]



The 18-year-old yellow Twi'lek was idling staring out the window of the hover train, watching the plains of Umgul shooting by. She was on yet another pleasure trip with her master, this time to see the famed Blob races. Looma Isana couldn't see what any being saw in watching those shapeless things race, but then again, she also couldn't see any being throwing away their meager life savings, hoping to increase them on that one "special" race.

She sighed and dropped her hand where she had been resting her head, her elbow on her seat's armrest. Her master, the Chagrian Dabas Moreggo, was still snoring in the adjacent seat. Looma supposed she should be thankful for her current circumstances, that Dabas treated her closer to a servant or just arm candy than a true Twi'lek slave, but it was still slavery. She still was not free... just like her sister Leef. Her sister whom she had not seen since she had been about three years old when Leef had been sold. And then when she was old enough, Looma had followed suit, her parents having "no choice" in order to support her brothers' education. They had potential; they were male. Her and her sister were only being sent to where their parents believed they would end up anyway.

Another sigh and Looma turned her violet eyes back to the viewport. It was no more use thinking about how she got here. It only served to make her angry, which in turn made strange things happen around her that she would rather forget. Things that freaked her out. Odd things that she had kept hidden all this time in fear that her parents wouldn't get as much money as they needed, or that she would be poorly treated by a master.

Looma squeezed her eyes shut for a couple seconds, then opened them again, willing those thoughts of her past, of her... abilities to disappear, and to bring herself back to the present. She was a slave accompanying her master to a race in the city. Though she wore no chains, she did have a microchip planted in her, the location a secret. And though she was there mostly to make her master look good and to fetch him drinks, not forced to dance or anything far worse, Dabas still had her dress in what he deemed "traditional" attire: scanty clothing the color of her purple eyes that looked more like strategically placed ribbons than a real tunic and trousers.

Trees and other greenery blurred as she focused on the scenery outside. No, she couldn't change the way she found herself in these circumstances, or really even complain about the current ones. All she could do was make the most of it and hope that Dabas someday freed her or at the very least, never resold her to a more unsavory master. Looma knew she could not escape; her chip made sure of that if she ever tried.

Resting her chin back on her hand, being lulled sleepy a bit by her master's snores, she closed her eyes. Perhaps the blob races would actually be interesting, and she would have a good time. Perhaps...



(((Okay, the rest of you can make your entrances however you want; I'll do the 'accident' in my next post I think.)))

[kozeph]

"O'www I shouldn't have touched that Shili cheese dog".

Kajir's stomach grumbled and the young spacer could help but groan and complained as he stood up from his seat, it felt like his belly was about to explode. "Never, ever trust a Shili cheese dog from a Rodian" that was the lesson Kajir had learned today, it took every ounce of his strength to keep Kajir from letting one loose and probably wash the entire room with a very unpleasant odour.

Walking with his hand resting on his stomach Kajir painfully and as fast as he managed, wiggled himself among the crowd in the wagon.

"By my father's nickers, where's the damned Refresher". Kajir hissed feeling like something had just cracked in his belly, every sound Kajir could possibly imagine was going on in his stomach. The grey Jedi could hardly imagine what was going on in there, it was probably worse than a Hutt being a she trying to be an exotic dancer along with a duet of she Wookiees singers.

"Concentrate dammit, if I lose it force knows I'll go down in Umguls most laughed at," a list, Kajir was hoping never to get at.

Turning to his left Kajir came upon the refresher, but as luck would have it someone was occupying it. The pain in Kajir's intestines made him shrink. "For the love off...".

What was two minutes, seemed to last an eternity to the young wanderer, but eventually a Duros came out of the restroom. Kajir quickly rushed inside and pushed the Duros away, who complained and shouted something at the human, but Kajir payed it no mind he had more important issues to attend to.

[Kella]

Roq observed the passengers of the hover train with disdain. He rolled his eyes in disgust at the commotion relating to the refresher.

His skimming gaze chased away many eyes, like minnows darting away from a shadow. People watched the Graarl warily, quickly tucking back into themselves when he looked their way. They had reason to be nervous. In fact, they had reason to be terrified. It would have been better for them if they had known this.

The Graarl looked like many other Graarls; body built like a predatory cat's, wicked talons like an eagle's on fore and hind legs, the broad leathery wings of a flying mammal, and a wickedly curved Reptillian beak. He was monochromatic, all shades of gray. The scales that plated his body held many scars, some thinner or thicker, some discolored white or black. A black leather collar with silver spikes hung loosely around his neck, connected to a silver chain. Stoney gray eyes stained with streaks of red arrested the curious gaze of a small child. The child began to cry.

Roq's tail lashed impatiently, the claws that tipped each fin scraping against the rough floor of the hover train. A diminutive man jumped, his sweaty, shaking hands almost dropping the silver chain. Roq turned his eyes on the man, which produced in his face an expression of thinly veiled terror.

Roq himself was not particularly pleased with the situation, but that was for significantly different reasons. He did not usually have any reason to ride hover trains, as his wings were far from vestigal. Yet, the thing he was pursuing had boarded this hover train, an in the interests of time, he had decided to do his business on the ride, as opposed to waiting for the destination.

Preferring to attract attention as a nonsentient beast than as a sentient threat, Roq had persuaded a biped to accompany him. 'Persuade', in this case, involved slamming the man with a few very simple but very powerful telepathic images, including, but not limited to, the hover train, a biped and a service quadruped, and a disemboweled human body. The mad had gotten the picture. Literally.

Roq was finally amused, by this little piece of wit. And by his success, really. So many force practitioners wasted all that energy trying to suggest words, and get people to think what they wanted them to think. Prideful, really. A picture was often just as effective, and required much less finagling and effort -- though, perhaps, a little more finesse.

Roq's tail lashed again, and the man winced. This man was wise to be afraid. Then again, it could be understood, as he'd been given the gift of greater understanding. A glimpse of what Roq could do.

There was one person who would ahave benefitted greatly from a good dose of wariness and fear at that moment. Roq's target.

[Derriphan]

Kharr, the young Cather Jedi who was still in her padawan years. Her master had sent her on a mission of her skills, she was particularly great at being a Jedi. Now she was on a test of her skills, her master had had a vision. Putting her on this train to who knows where, he said after she was done she would be ready for anything that came to her later on in life. Kharr wasn't particularly strong in her light saber skills, but she was good enough to hold her own. The best at what she was as was force powers in general. The power of persuasion, force pushes, and augmenting her own skill with the force. Almost all of it came naturally to her.

Now, she was sitting on a train deeply robed in traditional Jedi robes, a lighter brown and the basic wraps under neath her robes, pretty much the standard Jedi wear.. Why was she deeply robed? She was embarrassed of her own body and the way it moved. A busty Cathar, with perfect curves that were the cause of her training, and she was somewhat top heavy. Although these robes hid that perfectly. Her purple hair which she died voluntarily was tied into a pony tail and all of this went beautifully with her darker skin. Then to top it all off her golden eyes shown beautiful through the hooded cloak. Looking at the people as they passed by, a man who seemed to being having trouble with his bowls as he passed to the refresh. A Twi'lek positioned further over who she had no doubt was a slave, as she had found out a lot of Twi'lek women were. Unfortunately that was also how her race was and the women were prized as slaves. Many had gone after her but she had manged not to become one. Then her skills had been discovered some time later and now she was who she was. A Jedi on her path to becoming more attuned to the force. Her memories fading back to her Master and how this trip would benefit her.

Well only time would tell what the force had in store for her. The only thing she could feel was a sense of uneasiness that seeped into her at every angle the further they got down at the track. Her hair was on end, and she feared something bad was going to happen, but she just wanted to pass it off as nerves because of what her master had told her. All the while she wanted to believe she was some what right in what the force felt like it was telling her, well, she shrugged her shoulders and thought to herself. "Only time will tell"

[Mara]

(((Sorry for the wait, guys... )))


Eyes closed, drifting towards sleep, Looma’s mind also drifted. The earlier thoughts of her sister replaced those of her more recent thoughts of the upcoming Blob races in Umgul City. She was back in her young childhood, perhaps only two years old; Leef was 12, maybe 13. Neither of their innocence had yet been lost and destroyed. Their age difference didn’t stop them from being friendly and playing together. Though closer in age to her brothers, Leef preferred her young sister as a playmate, finding the boys silly and boring. There wasn’t a whole lot that was easy for them to do together, but Leef could always find something.

In this particular memory, Looma remembered sitting in what passed for a park in their poor neighborhood. It was in reality an empty lot filled with trash, but the older Twi’lek would spin tales for little Looma, making her imagine it was full of lush greenery with birds and other animals frolicking around. In her sleep, Looma smiled, remembering. She would always look forward for those rare moments alone with her sister spinning stories for her. It was always much better than any flimsi book her mother would read to her at night. Leef was a born storyteller. All the characters came alive as her sister talked animatedly, using her hands, her lekku, various voices. Looma would shriek with laughter or fear, depending on which part in the tale her sister was on. But the stories always ended happily.

She came back to the surface then, unsure what had woken her. But it was probably good. If she had continued along the same vein in her dream recollection, it would have gotten depressing. For all the stories she had told, Leef could never give herself a happy ending. Though sometimes when she thought of her sister, Looma hoped that she had found a master as kind as she. A master who didn’t abuse her, perhaps one that even enjoyed her stories and was entertained by her that way, instead of suggestive dancing. The yellow Twi’lek had to keep these positive thoughts at the forefront to avoid thinking the worse of where her sister had ended up. She had promised herself long ago that if she ever were freed, she would look for Leef.

Another jolt shuddered underneath her, and this time she felt it. And so did Dabas who awoke, looking sleepily around at his surroundings. Looma did the same, wondering what was causing the noise and movement. They were not in space in a ship; it couldn’t be turbulence or anything like that. And she doubted that someone was attacking the hover train. Perhaps it was just her imagination, or a heavy passenger in another of the cars moving around. If there were real danger, surely the conductor would have posted something over the comm.

Which the Sullustan would have surely done if he had been alive to do so. The train was pilot-less, speeding onwards, hovering over its track. A track that soon would be heading over a bridge spanning a canyon that no longer existed intact. A portion in the center of it was missing, a victim of an explosion, no doubt felt by some on the train in the distance. And on this course of its route, the train was effectively in the middle of nowhere. It was out in the country, no large settlements or towns nearby.

Looma glanced at Dabas and shrugged. The rumblings seemed to have stopped, and the train was running smoothly again. Maybe it had been an overactive imagination, a remnant of her dream. The Chagrian appeared unconcerned as well and closed his eyes, preparing to return to his nap. Looma turned back to the viewport, no longer wanting to sleep as well, but preferring to take in the scenery, of little there was to look at. Seeing a gorge ahead, her stomach churned a bit; she had never really gotten used to heights. She had had little cause to be near any back on Ryloth, and Dabas kept his sprawling base on the ground, no more than two levels. Looma squeezed her eyes tight, not wanting to look out. If she couldn’t see it, it wasn’t there.

If only she had looked just a few moments longer, she would have noticed, as the train came around a bend, showing the bridge at an angle, the gaping hole in the middle of it. But Looma hadn’t, and so not had most, if not all, of the passengers. Who would ever expect their trip into the city to be interrupted by tragedy? The hover train sped on, now even faster, the control stick stuck at the highest setting. Perhaps it would be able to jump the gap with enough momentum in its repulsors. But there was not enough power, and the gap was too wide. It hurtled onward, nearer and nearer the broken bridge.

And then the pleasant train ride turned upside down, for some, almost literally. When the forward engine met empty air, it continued for a moment with momentum, but then jackknifed down like an arrow aiming for its target at the bottom of the river. Though still upright, the other cars shuddered as they followed suit. Passengers began screaming as they felt their car tilting and tried scrambling backwards for balance. Any objects that were not secured to the structure of the train flew around, banging into walls, beings. Chaos reigned inside the train.

Sitting in one of the rear cars, Looma was seized paralyzed with fear. Before their compartment had raced ever closer to the break in the bridge, all the commotion at the front of the train had forced her to glance around, look out the viewport. And she had seen the train’s engine diving into the gap, all the other cars following it to their demise. Not able to look more than a couple seconds, she had squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut out the screams around her, particularly those of her master beside her. Her only thought was of her sister, praying that Leef would fair better. She didn’t think of the inevitable, that she would die here on Umgul, a slave to the last moment.