|
Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
|
|
last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
Mar 1, 2020 14:20:43 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 1, 2020 14:20:43 GMT -5
"You misread me Ylva." Forte said.
"Well, maybe if you spoke like a damn adult..." she shot back, then waved her hand again. Whatever. Slaves, not slaves. It was still no concern of hers. She couldn't fathom why it mattered to him either. Slaves were literally everywhere in Hutt space. But if freeing one or two was what his uncle's rocks off, cool. Good for him.
Io'an spoke after that, and the two of them got into their own little back and forth. Ylva, for her part, had to tune them out, as she was suddenly very aware of the precarious nature of her balance. She'd been leaning heavily on her left arm, propped against the bar. But the world was beginning to tilt and Ylva felt that pull of gravity a bit harder than before. Casually as possible, Ylva shifted position, moving to stand up a little straighter. In the process, her left elbow slipped from the bar and everything lurched sideways for a moment as she caught herself. When everything was still again, Ylva looked at both Io'an and Forte to see if they'd notice.
"The Jedi in you sounds like a bitch." she grumbled, leveling her gaze at what she thought was the right Forte, given the two options before her. But then he was moving, standing up and heading toward the exit. He said something about his place again, and then was out the door.
"What a load of shit." she said at the door, then turned toward Io'an. "Right?"
She began to shamble around the bar, hand grabbing onto the first bottle she touched along the way and pulling it down from the shelf as she walked by. "You think he's gonna run?"
From the back, a figure stepped into the bar area. It was the old barman. He seemed annoyed, and asked if they were going to be done any time soon. Ylva threw the bottle she was holding at him. She then waved for Io'an to follow her to the door. She made it two steps, before falling flat on her face.
"I'm fine!" she shouted, scrambling to get her legs underneath herself to stand. "I'm good." she repeated when she'd made it to her knees. "Just... gimme a sec."
|
|
|
|
|
Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
|
|
last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
Mar 6, 2020 14:26:40 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Mar 6, 2020 14:26:40 GMT -5
Io’an nodded as Jazen again made an offer toward Ylva and himself, to stay near his uncle’s home. For once, he didn’t doubt Jazen’s sincerity, his desire to extend the offer as a way of making things right. But now was not the time, and if a rebuffed offer of an evening together was the worst punishment he got from all this, he’d be getting off easy.
He watched Jazen’s retreating back as he left the bar and shook his head once the doors swung shut behind him. He’d ignored Ylva’s characteristically-rough prodding and teasing as Jazen made his way out, but her question, he turned enough to see her helping herself to another bottle behind the bar at the corner of his vision.
“I don’t know. I don’t think he will. I’d like to think he won’t, but I can’t say. I hope he doesn’t.” Strange. Why did he wonder that? He didn’t know Jazen very well, all told. They’d worked together on that disaster of a trip to Gamorr, but that was the extent of close cooperation with him.
It was draining, expecting the worst in people. Io’an would much rather assume people would behave as they should, even if the Crisis proved that wasn't always the case.
So does present company. Io’an rolled his eyes as Ylva fell drunkenly to the floor. He slipped from his seat, leaving more credits than they likely owed on the bar with a sigh and bent over to help Ylva up to her feet. She was about the same height as he, and heavier, but it wasn’t hard to get her up braced against him, with her right arm back over her shoulder.
“I think you’ve had enough,” Io’an said, soft but firm. “We’ve got to wait for him anyway, how about we call it a night?”
At least the walk back to the ship shouldn’t be too hard. As long as Ylva didn’t make a mess of things.
|
|
|
|
|
Jazen
Beelzaboot
1,617 posts
86 likes
Rocking from the Great White North
|
|
last online Apr 20, 2022 19:46:47 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Mar 9, 2020 14:36:27 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Mar 9, 2020 14:36:27 GMT -5
As expected, the night was mostly uneventful.
Jazen spent most of it in the main room of the house his Uncle owned, eyes closed in a meditative trance, or practicing his lightsaber skills with a remote drone he had brought with him. Both acts were ways of finding his center, keeping his senses alert in case trouble did arrive. Not that he truly expected it too; his uncle was very, very good at his work and if he didn't want a trail to lead back here, none would. The would be slaves would be believed dead, any trace of his attack would be hidden and marks left that pointed to a rival or an unknown party that had nothing to do with a Mandalorian in any way. All he had to do for the night was make sure none of them tried running off and giving up the game...or rather, getting caught again. Most were young, after all...at a kind of age that made Jazen seethe just a little at the fact that the Exchange was no better.
But it was home. At least, for a while longer, depending on how things went.
When morning dawned on Io'an and Ylva's ship, a figure was moving into view. Not the armor clad Forte that one might have expected, although he wore the breastplate, the gauntlets and the boots for sure over a simple tunic underneath. No, this was Jazen, at least, as much of him as he wanted exposed for the moment, a single locker with some items he was bringing with him, along with the rest of his armor, hovering easily off the ground as he carried it with the Force. Io'an would have sensed him coming for sure, he made no efforts to hide his approach at all. Ylva, depending on how her night went, would either still be sleeping or awake, but highly agitated. She had seemed and felt pretty sloshed by the time Jazen had left the other day...unless Zabrak's recovered from heavy drinking faster then other species.
"Good morning." He said simply as he walked into the ship, his locker hovering behind him. "Well, here I am. As requested." He lowered the locker down in what looked to be a cargo hold of sorts and sat atop it, head tilted up in question. "Are we ready to go or are we waiting for Ylva?"
If she did have a hangover? Man, those engines starting were gonna be her worst nightmare.
|
|
|
|
|
Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
|
|
last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
Mar 17, 2020 11:15:41 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Mar 17, 2020 11:15:41 GMT -5
Ylva woke with a start, her snore halting abruptly as consciousness imposed itself upon her. Hot damn, she had to piss. With a groan, she stretched and roll over on the narrow bunk, almost falling out onto the floor in the small space that passed for quarters on this ship. She managed to stop this fate by throwing a leg out, catching and bracing against the wall opposite the bunk. Slow and cumbersome, she got herself vertical. She opened the door, wincing at the extra light, and shuffled her way to the lav. Once relieved, she lumbered to the main hold, where she began to tear through the cabinets. But the scent of already prepared caf registered in her mind and she turned to see the pot full and hot on the machine.
"My man..." she said with a small smirk as she grabbed a mug and filled it. She added no cream or sugar. She didn't even wait for it to cool. Ylva took a long swig straight away. The growl that issued as a result was a strange combination of pain and satisfaction. "Yes..." she sighed, leaning against the counter. She paused, breathing through the burn in her throat for a few moments, then downed the rest of the cup. After refilling it, she moved back to her quarters to change. From a view port, she could see that the sky was just beginning to lighten into that predawn grey. Like clockwork. Ylva had always been an early riser, no matter how intense her nights might be. While recovering at Jayec's cabin, she'd fallen out of that rhythm, but not for long. She was glad to see that in this, at least, she'd bounced back quickly.
Fully changed and now awake enough to ignore the dull ache in her head, Ylva made her way back through the ship. As she passed through the main hold an paused to rinse her mug out in the sink, she could hear the mumble of voices coming from the cargo bay. Ylva left the mug, resolving to get to it later and stepped through the small hold toward the back of the ship. Stepping through the airlock, she found Io'an and Forte. The latter was seated on a footlocker of some sort.
"Good thing I didn't put money on it. I was sure your ass would run." Ylva said with a chuckle, as she leaned against the airlock opening. She then turned her eyes to Io'an. "Well? We ready?" she asked.
They were paid up with the dockmaster, and had no cargo to offload or bring on board other than Forte himself. Not waiting for an answer, Ylva hit the control to close the cargo door with her elbow as she pushed herself back onto her feet. "You bunk back here." she said to Forte, gesturing over her shoulder to the door leading to the rear bunkroom. "We got rations enough for all of us. Don't touch mine." She gave him a hard stare, then turned it to Io'an. "I'll mark them." she said, then turned to head back to her bunk.
|
|
|
|
|
Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
|
|
last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
Mar 19, 2020 9:10:11 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Mar 19, 2020 9:10:11 GMT -5
Io’an woke before the sun broke over the horizon.
While Ylva still slumbered, he set about preparing the ship, and himself, for the coming day. After showering in the small refresher and getting dressed, he brewed a pot of caf, ate one of the filling — if not particularly tasty — breakfast rations and set about sending a message back to Circumtore.
“Ms. Faine,
We found Jazen, as expected. He’s been here on Formos since the Crisis ended, with his uncle. While he would not come with us immediately, we are expecting him to join us this morning, local time. He claims there was some business he was seeing to for his uncle that he needed to see finished.
We’ll see if he’s telling the truth, or if more stringent measures are needed. I can still feel him, not far away, so he doesn’t appear to have lied.”
Instead of his name, he signed the message with his slicer image — a vector art dragon head — and sent it along. The art wasn’t necessary, in such a heavily encrypted message, but it was a personal touch.
With that business handled, Io’an took some time to sit and think, caf mug clasped in his hands. It wasn’t long before Ylva rose. He greeted her with a wave as she came in and liltle smile when she saw the pot.
He could drink caf, but wasn’t huge on it. She seemed to like the stuff, as far as he could tell, and he figured it went a way toward making amends for some of the earlier friction.
Ylva went off to get ready for the day, and while she was away, Io’an felt Jazen approaching. A glance out the viewport confirmed this, and Io’an punched the cargo ramp control to admit him.
“It’s good to see you came,” Io’an said as Jazen arrived. “It’s much easier for everyone this way.”
Ylva returned, and Io’an laughed at her quip. “Yeah, I could’ve gotten back that docking fee,” he said, grinning. As she directed Jazen to his bunk, Io’an set about getting the ship engines warmed up. Before long, they’d be up and heading home.
|
|
|
|
|
Jazen
Beelzaboot
1,617 posts
86 likes
Rocking from the Great White North
|
|
last online Apr 20, 2022 19:46:47 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Apr 13, 2020 8:53:19 GMT -5
Post by Jazen on Apr 13, 2020 8:53:19 GMT -5
"Perhaps I should have run here then, gone around the port and come right back. Then you would have been technically right that I ran." He said calmly to Ylva as she entered, taking no offense at all to the fact that she had bet on him to run. A small sign he had trust to reearn here, little by little until he had...well, something resembling it back. Her quip about not eating her food did make him blink in confusion, glancing to Io'an with an eyebrow. A silent message of "What's that all about" sent his way even as he answered Ylva. "I promise I won't eat a thing with your name on it. I have food in my locker in any case, which should suffice."
Didn't take a genius to figure out which bunk was his, and he settled the locker into it without trouble as the ship pulled into the air and made for orbit. Soon enough, the powerful thrum of a ship entering lightspeed filled the corridors and then the smooth shift as they moved at speeds beyond sense or reason.
Securing his belongings, Jazen grabbed his lightsaber and returned to the main cargo hold, finding a space dead center of it and folding up his legs beneath him there as he settled with eyes half closed. Various small items around him hovered after that and if Ylva or Io'an wandered back, they'd find him the center of a small galaxy, the items spinning and moving around him as if he was the sun. His lightsaber sat in front of him. He hadn't had time to practice or properly meditate on his actions since the whole event. Two days in hyperspace before returning to chaos was a good time.
"Hello Ylva." He said calmly as he felt Ylva's presence approaching, his eyes closed and facing away from the moving presence. Io'an's he felt clearly in the cockpit and no doubt he'd come wandering in soon enough, perhaps. A thought came to mind, one he voiced to both of them, both openly for Ylva and through the Force for Io'an. "In the interest of starting to rebuild some of the trust I threw away, your welcome to ask anything you like. Both of you. Its only fair, after all." Two days aboard a starship would be a start, at least with these two. Io'an especially.
|
|
|
|
|
Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
|
|
last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
May 4, 2020 10:47:43 GMT -5
Post by Meira on May 4, 2020 10:47:43 GMT -5
After sorting through the remaining rations and marking those best suited to her carnivorous diet as her own, Ylva settled onto the small bench of the main hold. Io'an had the piloting handled, and once the doors were closed and the ship had lifted off, it wasn't like Forte could run. All was well and Ylva was content that her first gig in her new role had been successful. It was a long way to go yet, though, and she wasn't sure she'd ever regain the status she'd enjoyed before all that Archeri bullshit. The Jolly Janitors weren't hers anymore. Simone was handling the business, as a direct subsidiary of The Blind Eye. He was a natural; she'd chosen him as her right hand man for a reason. He deserved what he'd gained from all of this. He deserved far more, really.
Ylva shifted, shaking her thoughts away from the path they'd started down. She turned her attention instead to her datapad. When she activated it, she saw that she'd apparently written a message to Jayec at some point the night before. From the looks of it, she was fairly certain he wouldn't be able to decipher the stream of misspelled gibberish beyond the general intention. It was not, after all, the first drunk message she'd sent him. Chuckling to herself, she pulled up a window to send a new, and more coherent, one.
Hey Verd'ika,
Not sure what that other shit was. I can't read it. Whatever. We got the boy. Didn't even have to chase him down. On our way back now. How's the crew? Jayna still want to give me one of those... what'd you call it? Helmet kiss? Tell her I said I'll go a few rounds with her if it'll shut her up and get us past it.
I'll ping you when we're back, Wolf
After sending the message, Ylva tossed the datapad aside. She sat, for a moment, staring across the small hold before her leg started to bounce with unused energy. She wasn't much of one for space travel. She didn't like the downtime while in hyperspace. After a few seconds, she stood, moving back toward the cargo hold to find her armor. She'd tinker with that. It was new, for her, to have gear like that. Usually she only ever came in after the fighting was done, to do the clean up. And when she was the one woman wrecking crew that the Archeri had made her... she didn't really care about armor. Her body hadn't mattered then, and it only got in the way. Now, however, she was back to the realization that this was the only body she had, and she preferred to keep it in one piece. The armor wasn't anything fancy, but it was new at least. Jayec had helped her pick it out. It was, as she understood, in the medium range of protection. Still flexible enough to allow her a good range of movement, but with enough stopping power to protect her "when she decided to do something stupid", as he'd put it.
Shit was floating around in the middle of the hold when she walked in. It caused her to stop at the doorway. Confused, she'd wondered for a moment if the gravity drive on the ship had busted, but the thought was quickly dismissed by the fact that her own ass was still firmly held to the deck.
"Hello, Ylva."
Ah, he was doing jetii shit. Ylva gave Forte a grunt in response, swatting a cluster of floating loose bolts out of the way as she stepped toward a small stack of containers. She was heaving one aside to get to a lower one when he made his offer. It caused Ylva to pause for a moment, but then she set back to opening the container and pulling out the armor she'd been seeking and a tool kit as well. She dropped the kit to the floor beside the container and settled the armor over her shoulder to free up her hands. She got the lid back on the container, then turned back to the younger man floating in the middle of the cargo hold.
"Listen, kid," she began, shifting the weight of the armor as she picked up the kit and moved back toward the door, "I know the shit you went through. I put you through it. I even understand running off after. I did that too... sort of. The difference is that they knew where I was, and that I was gonna come back. They had to find you. Ain't no question and answer session gonna fix that. Just what you choose to do now. Just... fuckin' show up, man."
Ylva moved back to the main hold, dropping the armor onto the table and herself back onto the bench. She opened the kit on the seat beside her, pushing the different tools around until she found the one she needed and set to work.
|
|
|
|
|
Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
|
|
last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
May 8, 2020 11:21:56 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on May 8, 2020 11:21:56 GMT -5
The ship engines’ roar grew to a steady whine as it pushed off the ground and lumbered skyward. The blocky vessel flew about as gracefully as it looked, but with clear morning skies and no wind to speak of, Io’an had it up and out of the atmosphere in short order. Before long, he’d plugged in the coordinates to take them back to Circumstore. He eased the hyperspace control forward and the pinprick stars around them stretched to infinity as they made the jump.
When at last the black of space faded for hyperspace’s mosaic of blue and white, Io’an leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. He sighed, feeling a weight rise from his shoulders. The job was done. Jazen had come back, with relatively little trouble, and with the ship now tearing through hyperspace, it wasn’t like he could run off again. Io’an rather doubted he’d try to make a run for it once they got home; he wouldn’t have voluntarily come to the ship if he was going to try that.
With everything handled there wasn’t much else to do but sit back, wait and... try to relax for the journey home. Relax? Io’an cracked a smile, almost laughing at the thought. Can I even still do that? He was a different man now than he’d been before the Archeri came.
For better or worse, he couldn’t say.
A while later, after nearly drifting off to into a nap, he sat upright with a start. He could feel the force stirring further within the ship. Deciding that the pilot’s seat wasn’t the most comfortable place to spend the journey anyway, Io’an pulled himself up with a yawn and long stretch and wandered back to see what Jazen and Ylva were up to.
He found them both in the back, Jazen doing some sort of meditation and Ylva grabbing some armor. Io’an stopped in the door, leaning against the threshold with his arms folded across his chest as he watched them thoughtfully, catching the tail end of their conversation.
“She’s right,” he said to Jazen after Ylva took her armor and returned to the main hold. “Whatever your reasons for doing what you did, it’s done. You’re coming back, so if you want to rebuild trust, do it with your actions.” He watched Jazen for a long, silent moment. They were near the same age, with the white-haired man a few years Io’an’s senior. Their life experiences, though, had been tremendously different.
He wondered how those experiences had shaped Jazen’s reactions, had informed his choices after the Crisis’ conclusion. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk over things later,” he said. “For now, the best thing you can do is prove you’re actually here for us when you say you are. Like she did.” Io’an jerked his head back toward Ylva. “She showed up, did what was asked of her. That’ll do a lot more than any conversation ever could.”
Io’an smiled subtly at Jazen as he began to turn to leave for his bunk. “Just take care of the little things, Jazen. Do that and everything else will fall into place.”
|
|
|
|