Wham Bam Shang-A-Lang [LFG]

[Ghostie]

Beskar’gam. Also known as Mandalorian Iron, or rather, the armor made from Mandalorian Iron. Supposedly nigh indestructible, even against a lightsaber. Every Mandalorian painted their armor different colors, for different reasons. Some had a special meaning. Some were just because their warriors preferred a certain shade. And still some suits were supposedly inherited from generation to generation, through families and clans and such. The armor was imposing, with it’s T-shaped visor and heavy plates covering most of the wearer's body. It told the general skill of the user, as a well trained soldier and combatant, and as someone not to be crossed. Beskar’gam made the wearer be taken seriously, in any instance, and could be used as a weapon through it’s sheer intimidation.

Except this instance.

For the past few years, beskar’gam had flooded the city of Iziz. After the invasion, the Mandalorians had kicked out mostly everyone who didn’t join their cause, and had created a huge refugee issue. There had been a few lucky cases, with people that the Mandalorians needed. Doctors, engineers, mechanics. Even a politician or two, in order to keep the remaining populace in line. Pash Arlos’ mother, Iella, had been lucky in the fact that she didn’t bother anyone, and no one bothered with the sweet, disabled old lady. So she had been able to keep her place near the Wall, untouched for the most part. And if it wasn’t for her, Pash would never come back to Onderon.

The Smuggler loved Onderon. He loved Iziz. It was home, after all. And no matter where he went in the Galaxy, home was always going to be a welcomed sight. The walls made him feel safe. The jungles and crowded city was inviting. As dire as his situation might have been while he was young and running the streets and alleys between buildings and avoiding the law, Pash still clung to those memories fondly. It wasn’t that they were good times, on the contrary, they were very bad times, and he remembered them as such. But they were all that the younger version of Pash had know, before a Mandalorian named Ghes Kryze had changed everything.

The monotonous pounding of giant metal legs against the stone street was deafening over the light midday rain that fell across Iziz. Pash had just come out from around a building in order to cross the street, but the man quickly backpedaled when he heard the stomping, and dropped back inside of the narrow shadows between buildings. In front of him marched one of the Mandalorian’s infamous basilisk war droids, with its beak of barrels, jutting out at different angles and it’s large powerful front legs. Pash had to crane his head up just to see the Mandalorian sitting astride it, a woman in orange and purple beskar’gam.

Pash glowered at the warrior in contempt as she passed, his jaw set, and his lips pursed in a thin line and curled down at the ends. With his dark hair plastered to his tan skin due to the rain, it wasn’t a very imposing scene. But he didn’t care. The woman didn’t register the Smuggler, and Pash kept moving. His face was straight and dark eyes glowering at every beskar’gam wearing Mandalorian he crossed. Turning his nose up at every person her heard speaking Mando’a. For all their talk about outsiders, and the difference between Mandalorians and non-Mandalorians, the warriors didn’t seem to realise that they were the invaders, the outsiders, on Onderon.

Though as much as Pash hated seeing his home under occupation, there was nothing he could do besides glower in the rain. As much as he wanted to leave, that wasn’t going to happen at the moment. As the man walked across town a few blocks from the spaceport, he had the gamma coil of the hyperdrive from The Our Lady of Onderon tucked under one arm. Ever since the excitement on Jabiim with Doctor Bellamy and that train, The Lady’s hyperdrive had been acting up. And now, when coming out of lightspeed near Onderon, it had finally given out. Pash and Gaarchiir had ended up on the edge of the system, which was thankfully pretty good, as it could have been much more worse. It had just been an inconvenience at that point. But without a gamma coil, Pash and Gaarchiir were not leaving any time soon.

The woman who ran the office at the spaceport had told Pash about a repair shop and garage, Gantu’s Garage, or something like that. She said that they did good work there, but had warned him that the owner wasn’t Mandalorian. Warned Pash, like it was an issue. Though since the receptionist had spoken to him in Mando’a, the Smuggler supposed he should expect that. Nonetheless, not speaking Mando’a was a boon in his book. So Pash had left Gaarchiir with the ship to fix what he could, while he went to fetch a new part. The place hadn’t been hard to find; a few blocks over, Pash had seen the large, neon sign, like a beacon through the grey showers. His old passages from his street rat days made the trip short indeed. Gantu’s. That was the place.

Stepping inside, the place certainly had the feel of a repair shop and garage. A large counter separated the well-lit inside, with Pash on one side and a register and whatnot on the other. There were some piles of odd pieces and assorted tools and scrap on the same side as Pash, while the other side of the counter held various droids in different states of repair. After that, it looked like the building turned off into more of a vehicle garage, but Pash couldn’t see past the wall. Dripping wet from hair to feet, his boots left large prints on the tile as he squeaked across the floor, his long blue jacket leaving a trail of drops.

“Su cuy’gar?!”

Pash called out a greeting in Mando’a, figuring that whoever was on duty in the shop preferred the language. Personally, Pash felt that it tasted like sandpaper on his tongue. His accent wasn’t exactly perfect, and any real Mandalorian would pick up on such. Still, the language had its uses. Waiting a few moments for a response, the Smuggler put his burnt out, slightly frayed hyperdrive part on the counter, and leaned against the surface. When still no one came out front, Pash called out again, a bit more intolerant.

“Hello?! Anyone around?!”

[lilforceghost]

“Come on…”

There was nothing but the sound of muttering and tools working against metal as Nola worked under a speeder. It was a quiet day and for once she had a few moments to tinker on an ongoing project that she had promised as a favor. It was mainly replacing the parts from underneath the speeder. It was old and rusted out so most of it underneath had to be replaced. The older gentleman didn’t need it to run perfectly but mostly restored, as it had been his late wife’s. The story had touched Nola and she had offered to do it as a favor in exchange for some of the man’s home baked goods.

Grunting some, Nola finally got the piece free from underneath leaving a large stash of grease to splatter the side of her face. Sputtering a bit she wasn’t worried about her eyes as she was wearing a pair of protective goggles. The grease didn’t bother her any as it was apart of her day to day routine as she worked. Things grew quiet again as Nola worked to pull a few more rusted pieces off the bottom of the speeder. The sound of rain could be heard on the roof and the sounds of traffic outside the garage mingled with the tunes of the weather.

It was moments like this that Nola enjoyed the most. Laying low and doing what she loved most. She didn’t have to be involved with any violence or any war but instead, she could help others in the way that she knew how to. Being a Jedi had it’s perks - it had given her more of a platform to help but in the end it only did more harm than good when the Jedi had gotten involved with the war. So simplicity it was and Nola was happy right where she was at.

But something within Nola told her that things were about to change. She knew the moment that anyone got comfortable was the moment that a series of events would chart their life in a different direction. It was almost a stench in the air that couldn’t be avoided. A feeling. A stir. Giving a sigh as she reach down towards her shapely hip, her gloved hand reaching for a tool that rested next to her and pulled it back underneath to help wedge the piece of rusted speeder out. Hitting against the stubborn part, the sound of ringing broke the quiet as the tool hit the metal.

“Ah-Hah! I finally got you.”

It was then in the moment of victory that Nola could hear someone calling out from the front of her shop. Sliding out from the suspended speeder Nola stood up and brushed herself off some. Her brown hair was a bit of a mess and the grease on her face blended in with her facial tattoos in spots.

“I’LL BE RIGHT WITH YOU!” 

Shouting out towards the front Nola straightened out her suspenders some and pulled the goggles up on top of her mess of hair. As she pushed through the back door and made her way to the front, there was a tall, dark and handsome man standing there with what looked like a hyperdrive gamma coil under his arm. Pulling her gloves off with her teeth, she placed them on the front desk and took a seat behind it.

“What can I do you for? Having some issues with your hyperdrive?”

Nodding towards the gamma coil; the part looked to be in a bad state and just by seeing it underneath she could tell that there was a chance that she may not be able to do much with it. Getting a better look at the man he had nice dark skin with piercing eyes that seemed to look right through Nola. He didn’t seem happy but then again most times anyone came through her shop they were less than so with a broken part or droid. Her heart quipped up a bit as he spoke - his voice matched his good looks. Reaching out for the part as to ask permission to examine it she shook her head a bit.

“Seems like this part is going to need to be replaced. I can try to patch it but the chances of it holding out are slim once you’ve made a few rounds.” 

Pausing for a moment Nola took a second to look up to see those piercing dark eyes once more. Quickly looking back down with her own dark orbs, Nola went back to double checking the coil to make sure her calculation was correct. Placing the part down gently on the table she leaned back in her seat. The only sounds for a moment were the creaking of the chair and the ever steady rain outside.

“Lucky for you I have one in the back. It needs a little work itself but nothing close to this.” Nola’s hand gestured to the hollowed out coil before making contact with the young man's orbs once more. 


“Give me a few hours and the part will be ready. Just got to oil her up and get her ready for a new home.”

[Ghostie]

A long sigh left Pash’s lungs as he stood over his burnt out gamma coil, hands braced on the counter on either side of the round, disc-like part. A woman’s voice called out from the back of the shop, where Pash assumed that the speeders were kept, and assured the Smuggler that she was going to meet him soon. But the man was impatient. The Mandalorians had him in a bad mood, like always. The rain had him in a bad mood. And having a busted ship had him in a bad mood. Pash just wanted to leave Onderon, already. His visiting with his mother was over, and he had more flying to be done. Credits to be made. Frowning as the woman took her time, Pash rolled his eyes a bit.

But the man’s impatience dissipated in the blink of an eye when the woman who worked the shop finally came around out front. Pash was taken aback and pleasantly surprised all at once. Here he expected someone, well, not Mirialan. Not female. And definitely not a gorgeous Mirialan woman at that. Even with the line of greasy, black oil dripping from her green chin, obscuring her racial tattoos in such a way that they seemed to be melting off of her face, Pash was flabbergasted. His heart and breath caught all up in his throat at once, and he was overwhelmed by the woman’s quickly-paced tone. Mouth slightly agape and eyes wide, the Smuggler just let her go on about the hyperdrive component.

“I -”

“Seems like this part is going to need to be replaced. I can try to patch it, but the chances of it holding out are slim once you’ve made a few rounds.”

“Well - ”

“Lucky for you I have one in the back. It needs a little work itself, but nothing close to this.”

Pash really wanted to get a word in. Meeting this beautiful Mirialan more than made up for the Mandalorians parading around outside. They didn’t matter. And without her knowledge, the woman had all but cured his sour mood. Pash just didn’t want to over-play his hand, and he hoped that she didn’t notice that he had a hard time keeping his dark eyes on anywhere but her face. Overalls weren’t supposed to be attractive. They were supposed to be for dirty work, and protect from grease and grime. But this pair hugged the Mirialan’s curves well, and did little to help her cropped teeshirt reign in everything on top.

“Give me a few hours and the part will be ready. Just got to oil her up and get her ready for a new home.”

“It looks like you’re already t’go…” Pash grinned and met the Mirialan’s brown eyes. His thumb ran over the bottom of his chin, scratching the scruffy facial hair that resided there, referring to the grease and oil dripping down the Mirialan’s own, round face. Pash thought it was rather cute. “But I suppose if I’ve gotta to wait...” Pash’s mouth curled into a sly smirk as his shoulder's shrugged, eyeing the Mirialan once again, his words clearly directed towards her and not the gamma coil she had floating around somewhere.

“Can you make a delivery? I’ll pay extra, and don’t feel like marchin’ back across town.” Pash dug into his jacket for his bundle of credits. He didn’t have many left, but it should be enough. “Docking bay three-two-seven. It’s a HWK-five-four-five freighter.”

[lilforceghost]

The dreary weather outside had seemingly faded into the background as the two of them conversed and made their arrangements. But it wasn’t the only thing that had faded. When Nola had stepped up front to assist him there had been a thickness in the air. It was clear the man was in a bad mood prior but now, that thickness had dissipated rather quickly and changed into more of a flirtatious tension. She could almost feel the man’s dark eyes looking her up and down when she wasn’t looking directly into his eyes, keeping them suspended with her own gaze.

“It looks like you’re already t’go…”

“Oh..OH!”

Nola’s cheeks grew steadily warm under her fingers as she quickly reached up and used the back of her hand to help wipe off the grease from earlier. She had forgotten about it and he had pointed it out rather amusingly, only drawing more attention to his dark, strong jawline with a little bit of scruff that seemed to offset his features even more.

“But I suppose if I’ve gotta to wait...”

Swallowing hard, she could only give a shy smile as the man clearly was flirting with her. Nola was used to getting perverse attention for her looks, but he was harmlessly flirting which was a refreshing change. Nola mused, deciding that there was nothing wrong with a little bit of a light flirt back.

“Good things come to those who wait, I suppose.”

Giving a tiny bit of a flirtatious yet shy smile, she couldn't help but notice that despite the wet hair that was plastered to his head and the soggy jacket that he had a rugged quality about him. Nola found herself drawn to him as she did her best to discreetly study his features without him noticing. But after a few moments, her attention turned back into what he had started to say while hiding the fact that she had lost focus, to begin with.

“Can you make a delivery? I’ll pay extra, and don’t feel like marchin’ back across town... Docking bay three-two-seven. It’s an HWK-545 freighter.”

Could she make a delivery? Nola already knew that she would. Trying to deny the law of attraction but failing miserably the Mirialan Mechanic already knew she wanted to see this handsome stranger again and if making a delivery was the way she wouldn't mind heading out in the rain to drop off the gamma coil for him. Nola would just make sure that there was no grease hiding on her chin next time.

“Usually I require you to pick up, but this time I think I’ll make an exception.”

Nola gave a little bit more of a smile as she took his credits but she only took enough for the partition and nothing extra for the delivery. Passing back the extra credits she placed what she had taken for the part into her register and finishing up with their business so he could leave. Lastly, Nola handed him a handwritten slip with the part information, credit amount and her name at the bottom before speaking up once more.


“After all, the HWK-545 freighter is one of my favorite freighters.”

[Ghostie]

The small smile that turned up Pash’s face hadn’t subsided all afternoon. The humid, heavy sunlight that the rain had relented to couldn’t drown the man’s spirits. The Mandalorians and their basilisk war droids couldn’t trodd on them. And the sad state that Onderon found itself in certainly wasn’t going to drag them down. Even with a ship that couldn’t go anywhere, the Smuggler was feeling better than he had been all day. His hand clutched the receipt from Gantu’s Garage tight on his walk back, the Mirialan’s name, Nola Raan, etched into Pash’s mind in an instant.

She had been a gorgeous thing, she had. Short, curvy, and cute. Pash had done a little flirting, and Nola had flirted back. She refused to take any extra money for the delivery. And now the best part was that she was going to be coming around The Lady later on. When the man reached the landing ramp to his ship, he hastened up with all the purpose he could muster. He wanted the place presentable for when Nola showed up, and he wanted the hyperdrive ready to receive it’s new gamma coil, so that no extra work had to be done when the Mirialan did arrive. There was quite a bit to do in only a few hours.

“Gaaaaaar?!”

A loud, rumbling roar and a few barks answered Pash back through The Lady. The Wookiee was out of sight, but never out of shouting distance.

“We’re gunna have company! Got a new coil ordered! Make sure the hyperdrive is ready when it gets ‘ere!”

An affirmative bark met Pash’s request, and the distant sound of lumbering footfalls echoed through the ship’s durasteel floors. The Smuggler walked slowly into his main took off his long, blue jacket, and draped it across a chair. The place was untidy. Not completely unkempt, but someone hadn’t picked up in awhile. A few dishes were still out from breakfast, pieces of flimsi littered the table. A blanket was waded up into a ball on the bench in the booth. And most of all, the floor needed a good sweeping. Pash busied himself with the dishes, first, and then found a broom. That was when Gaarchiir peeked in from across the hold and through a doorway with a quizzical look.

<<You do know the gamma coil doesn’t go in the lounge, right?>>

---

The sun was starting to set by the time that Pash had spied a certain green woman striding across the Spaceport, gamma coil in hand. The Smuggler had almost forgotten about the way he’d been wearing such a wide grin when he left Gantu’s Garage. The way Nola had been flirting, Pash ws guaranteed at least a shot, a pass at the woman. He had been eager to square away The Our Lady of Onderon, tidy up the main hold, and make sure the hyperdrive was ready by the time she came around. But working on the hyperdrive had led to the sublight engines getting a tune up. And the sublight engines getting a tune up had led to checking the fuel lines.

Now Pash crouched on the top of The Lady’s hull, goggles on and plasma torch in hand as he went through the connectors for the sensor relay. One thing had certainly led to another. But it was never wasted time, when Pash spent it working on the one thing he loved most in the big, wide Galaxy. The Smuggler had simply looked up at the most opportune time when the Mirialan had come strutting across the landing bay. He watched her for a moment, before shutting off his torch and pulling his goggles down. The golden orange sunset made her green skin stand out, and brightened her chocolate hair. Grinning once again, Pash called out.

“I’m up ‘ere! Be down in a sec’!”

[lilforceghost]

“Hello??”

The docking bay door to the HWK-545 freighter was opened as if the ship was greeting the Mirialan woman when she arrived. It was a handsome ship, to say the least, and she always enjoyed the unique look and feel this particular freighter offered. Taking a few moments, Nola spent them straightening up her coveralls for the second time today. She was excited to see the handsome customer again and yet she found herself nervous. Ever since her previous boyfriend passed in an accident she hadn’t felt up to flirting or dating. The sudden death had taken it out of Nola leaving her a bit on the gloomy side for a long time. It had left her focused on her work but on the same token, keeping to herself had made things lonely. But today things had changed. He wasn’t the first attractive being to walk through those doors and try to flirt. So why this man in particular?

The whole walk to his ship had her wanting to know more about him. Was he a pirate? Scoundrel? Merchant? His demeanor and outfit told her some sort of smuggler. Nola would put a credit on that bet. On her way to deliver the gamma coil, She had been so fixated on meeting him once more that she had bumped into a parked speeder along with a grumpy Twi’lek. There had been a few large puddles stepped in and the brilliant sunset on the way to the spaceport had gone completely unnoticed.

“Anyone Here??”

After a few moments, Nola resolved that he was more than likely busy. Wasting no time she walked through the docking bay hearing her own footsteps against the metal. It was clean, to say the least, and as she looked around the large hold, she could hear someone calling from above. Looking up Nola could see him working on something as she had entered. Giving a friendly wave upwards so he knew she'd seen him, Nola found herself peering slightly into the darkened corridor of a slightly opened door off to the side of the cargo hold. Nola wasn't trying to be nosey but she was naturally curious when it came to most things.  She could hear someone calling that they’d be down in a second and Nola figured that it was her customer.

Trying to fight the urge but failing rather quickly, Nola found herself at the edge of the door inspecting the frame and peering more down the corridor. Nothing there other than the dim lights and stark walls. 

“You’re a beaut, aren’t you?”

Talking to the ship itself Nola could almost feel the mechanics. She could sense the cool metal surrounding her and took it in. She had always had some sort of bond with mechanics and knew how ships and droids worked. It was considered a natural talent according to her old Jedi Master. Her green digits still resting against the wall of the ship she looked around and admired how clean even the docking bay was. This man clearly took good care of his ship.

[Ghostie]

The smell of grease and oil hit Gaarchiir’s nose before any of his other sense detected that something was off.

Considering the Wookiee was working down in a maintenance hatch with the sublight engines, his upper half jutting out of the floor like some sort of aquatic animal on the prowl, the fact that he could detect a difference in grease was either some sort of miracle or he was just simply making it up. But it was a different kind of oil and grease. Not something that he and Pash used on the Our Lady of Onderon. Gaar’s large, moist, black nose twitched a bit as he picked up the scent once again. No, that was definitely new. Was something else on the ship leaking, perhaps?

But the soft patter of feet on the durasteel floor told the Wookiee a different story. The steps were too light to be Pash. The man was always heavy footed, always sure of himself. These sounded lighter, and less confident. Like someone knew they should be there. Gaarchiir frowned, and growled under his breath to himself. Climbing out of the maintenance hatch, the Wookiee closed it up, and picked up a rather large hydrospanner. If there was an intruder, he didn’t have time to go retrieve his bowcaster or ryyk blade.

With slow, lumberous steps, Gaarchiir held the tool at the ready, and peered around each corner as he inspected the ship thoroughly. It didn’t take the Wookiee long to find the unwelcomed visitor. A short woman, who was clearly a woman given her looks, with green skin was standing just on the threshold of the cargo bay. Stomping up just out of arm’s reach, Gaarchiir brandished the hydrospanner and announced his presence with a large, loud roar that reverberated off of the ship’s bulkheads.

<<Get out - !>>

But the Wookiee paused halfway through as the woman turned, and revealed she was holding a gamma coil. A new gamma coil. Pash had said someone was going to come by later with the part. Gaarchiir just hadn’t expected that someone to be waltzing around the Lady. The Wookiee’s blue eyes went wide with embarrassment, and even moreso when he saw Pash approaching from down the hall, who was completely calm despite having walked in on Gaarchiir encountering their guest. Sheepishly, the First Mate took the coil, and shuffled off to go install it.

<<Sorry…>>

He barked over his shoulder

---

“Sorry about Gaar.”

Pash had his hands in his pockets as the Wookiee wandered off, new gamma coil in hand. The Smuggler leaned against the curved wall in the ship’s corridor, and studied Nola. As she was out from behind the counter in her shop, Pash could get a better look. And he liked what he saw. Hopefully Gaarchiir hadn’t scared her too badly, but to be fair, she shouldn’t have just welcomed herself into the Lady. Pash shot Nola a smile out of the side of his mouth.

“He’s really a big softie, just… overly protective.”

It was a good thing that Pash had wrapped up what he was doing on top of the ship outside, and followed Nola in when she had entered. Gaarchiir was liable to turn any intruders into a paste on the floor, and Nola was far too gorgeous for that. A short, awkward silence fell between the pair, and Pash wasn’t going to let it stand. Throwing out an arm to usher Nola deeper into the freighter, he could see how much she admired the ship. Still grinning, Pash locked eyes with Nola.

“Care for a tour?”

[lilforceghost]

Well shit.

Nola could sense another being coming up fast behind her as she began to poke around the ship. It had come up quick on her, as she had turned around to see a huge Wookiee rushing up behind her ready to fight with ironically a hydrospanner- the one thing of many that the woman used every day. But Nola knew better than to mess with the species. They were known to be very protective and could tear any being’s arms off if warranted.

“Hey now..”

But before she could get anything else out, the walking carpet’s roar echoed through the space leaving Nola’s ears ringing slightly. But after a moment the mood began to shift. The Wookiee realized that she was delivering the part that she held in her steady green fingers; the gamma coil was now pressed into her abundant breasts as Nola was afraid he might have charged before realizing what was going on. An awkward pause lingered between woman and beast before he took the part from her and mumbled an apology.



“No, No — I-“ 



In that moment he was gone almost as soon as he had shown up and was replaced by her handsome customer. Tucking a strand of long, chestnut hair behind her ear, she looked at her feet for a moment feeling overly embarrassed for being curious and nosy. She hadn’t meant any harm but it wasn’t her place.

“I shouldn’t have been wandering. I was just curious. Just let your furry companion know I meant no harm.” 



She wasn’t trying to stir up any problems and even more so with him. In fact, she felt like she had made a poor first and second impression. Firstly being covered in nothing but greasy overalls and now wandering around his ship. The air hung stagnant between them for only a moment before he seemed to recover quicker than she. Following his lead, Nola’s eyes lingered on his a moment longer and with a smile, she let him let her by and the two of them began making their way through the ship.

It was clean and well kept and Nola could almost sense a content feeling, if ships could actually feel, coming from the ship telling her that it was well cared for. If she had spoken those words to any normal being she knew that it would have sounded crazy. Ships, droids and anything mechanical almost spoke out to her. She could almost feel each part, gear, and piece in it’s working manner. The parts interlocking and working as one. The oil and lube that was intermixing with the metal and parts to keep things running smooth. It was almost as if she was apart of it. Mechanics seemed to understand her best. They didn’t talk back and most importantly, it was the one thing that Nola could fix that was broken; it gave her a sense of control in a galaxy where she had never had any.

“I can really tell this ship is well cared for.”

Her green fingers gently running against the polished walls as he guided her around. Peeking her head into an opened room as they passed, it was dark but she didn’t linger. It was kind enough for him to let her see the floor plan and she wasn’t about ready to abuse his generosity any more than he already had extended it. It was quiet for a bit and despite Nola’s shy disposition she couldn’t help but be a bit curious. It might not have been her business but she found herself hoping that he’d be around for at least a little while.




“How long do you plan on sticking around for?”

[Ghostie]

There was very, very little that Pash loved in the Galaxy when it was compared to the Lady. The ship was his pride and joy. It was his home. It was how he made a living. It was his freedom. The freighter was very much a part of the Smuggler. And for that reason Pash enjoyed bragging about the ship, putting it through its paces, and showing others what it could do. Showing others just how much it lived up to the moniker of ‘fastest ship in the Outer Rim’, which was probably more self-proclaimed than anything, but not any less true. All that being said, one thing Pash did love was giving the ship-wide tour to gorgeous women.

Well, perhaps not a full, ship-wide tour. As Pash and Nola walked through the Lady, he was sure to keep her away from the dark corners of the cargo bay, and not to bounce too heavily on the secret compartments hidden in the floor. It simply wouldn’t do for the Mirialan to discover all of the freighter’s secrets. And with Gaarchiir working on the new gamma coil in the engineering compartment, Pash figured the Wookiee would want his space. The quarters were omitted, as well. With any luck, Nola would be given a very intimate tour of Pash’s own room later, but the man was getting far ahead of himself.

Now at the tour’s end, Pash was sitting in the ventral laser cannon turret, the seat turned a full one-eighty degrees to face back the way he had climbed up. The rain from earlier had condensed on the viewport in raindrops scattered across the glass, as the sun was setting in the distance. Pash simply sat there, looking Nola up and down as she familarized herself with everything in the small compartment. Not only was the Mirialan irresistible, but she had an eye for ships and was only another large point in her favor, in Pash’s book. Leaning back with an audible sigh, the Smuggler folded his hands behind his head, and kicked his crossed feet up against a bare patch of durasteel on the wall.

“I try.” Pash said proudly, as Nola mentioned that the Lady was well cared for. She might be patched and pocketed on the outside, but Pash did his best to care for the ship. “She might not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts.” He finished, having trouble suppressing a small grin.

When Nola’s next question came, Pash let it linger for a bit. How long was he going to be on Onderon? Usually, the man didn’t like to stay on the planet long. It was his home. His mother was still here. Yet at the same time, it was occupied by those blasted Mandalorians in their blasted beskar’gam. Pash couldn’t stand seeing Iziz like that. But he could stand for seeing Nola a little bit more. Undecided on an answer. Pash simply shrugged, hands moving to the top of his head.

“Depends on how things look.” He said, grinning again. “What sort of... opportunities... arise.” Things were quiet for a moment, before Pash finally spoke back up “How about a drink, while Gaar is working on the hyperdrive? My treat.”

[lilforceghost]

“This seems like a good spot.” 



Not long after their meeting on Pash’s freighter the two of them had made their way to a Cantina that wasn’t far from Iziz’s Spaceport. Nola had taken the him up on his offer of a drink and as the two of them settled in their seats, she looked around the dimly lit room at the other Patrons. She wasn’t the type to frequent such establishments but it was a nice change of pace for her. The stench of smoke and cheap perfume lingered around them as she gave her preferred drink to one of the few waitresses around.

“A Corellian ale is fine, please.” 



Nola found herself observing a few of the other beings that sat in the far corner. Laughing loudly and flirting with a cute Twi’lek woman as she ordered their drinks. She never understood how people would want to drink to the point of becoming obnoxious. A few good drinks was one thing but not remembering your name after countless ones was another. 


She turned her attention back to the young man who sat across from her. Shifting a bit in her seat Nola leaned forward, placing her hands on the table and letting herself lean into them. Her brown eyes gazed across the dimly lit area and found that even in the low light and smokiness of the room that Pash still was very attractive.

The laughter of the drunk Patrons behind her could still be heard but her focus was on him now. Their drinks arrived rather quickly and as the waitress placed a large, tall mug of ale in from of Nola she nodded appreciatively giving her a smile. Nodding to the large mug she began to drink on it some. Cold and crisp and always as she remembered it. Forget the fancy drinks and overpriced beverages Nola found this particular brand of ale usually hit the spot. Taking another long drink she placed the mug back down. Her green, slender fingers running along the rim of the glass, making a bit of a hum as she did. She wasn’t good at socializing but felt the need to make some sort of conversation. 


“So… Out of all the places you’ve traveled, do you have a favorite?”

[Ghostie]

The cantina was loud, between music rolling out of it’s sound system, and the patrons becoming all the more rowdy with every sip. It seemed like the typical night for an establishment such as this, so close to the only spaceport in Iziz. Not an unusual environment for someone like Pash, but he still found himself looking around on occasion as he and Nola found their seats in a semi-circular booth tucked away into a private corner. Their drinks were ordered, and he had a gorgeous woman to share them with, yet there was still enough beskar’gam lingering around the bar that the Spacer was uncomfortable, his nose wrinkling and turning up at every mandalorian he saw.

Then Nola started to speak, and Pash turned to her. The woman ran a few light, green fingers across her mug, and the glass made a low echoing sound. Just like that, the warriors off to the other side of the cantina were forgotten about for a moment, as Pash found himself captivated by the woman sitting in front of him. He could hear her clearly, despite the dinge of the noise around them, and found his attention nearly impossible to rip away from her.

“So… Out of all the places you’ve traveled, do you have a favorite?”

The question came to Pash as the man was taking a long draught from his own mug, which was the same Corellian Ale that Nola was sharing with him. The Spacer heard the question, and kept drinking for a short moment, his eyebrows furrowing together as he thought honestly about the Mirialan’s question. Finding a spot on the wall behind Nola’s head to study for a moment, and old bit of memorabilia in the form of a engraved drexel’s tooth, Pash set his mug down with a solid thunk on the table. His elbow soon followed, holding his chan as he gently scratched the scruff there.

“Hrm…”

A favorite place he had visited? Pash wasn’t honestly sure than he could think of one. He was born here on Onderon, and for that reason it would always hold a special place in his heart. But since the Mandalorians had moved in, it was hardly his favorite place to be anymore. He had been as deep into the Core as Empress Teta, and as close to the rim of the Galaxy as Serpindal. The Spacer had flown over nearly all of Hutt Space in his less-than-legal career, and then across countless battlefields in the Republic Navy beforehand. There had been the little stint he had on Jabiim when he was shot down during the War, but aside from meeting Garachiir there, the place had been quite the hell-hole and Pash would be absolutely fine never seeing the forsaken mudball ever again.

No, there was no favorite place. Pash decided he just liked going.

“Y’know… I can’t really think of one.” He finally answered, his eyes connecting once again with Nola’s own brown orbs. Leaning over the small round table, both arms supporting him now, Pash smiled. “I don’t know… I just like going new places, y’know? I can fly where I want, when I want… No one can tell me what to do, what jobs to take. I guess, in a roundabout way, the pilot’s chair of the Lady is my favorite place.” He finished with a wide, genuine grin. Yes, Pash liked that answer. He liked it a lot. The Our Lady of Onderon was everything to him, why shouldn’t it be his favorite place in the Galaxy? Taking another short drink from his Corellian Ale, the Spacer bounced the question back to his companion. “How about you? I mean, you’re not from Onderon, right? You’ve had to have traveled some.”