Someone's Idea of a Bad Joke (Cyar)

[Otterling]

It was 12:17 pm, two minutes past when Jahari had been told her meeting with her commander would start and yet she was still standing at attention just outside his office door. She hadn’t moved from the spot she was rooted to for the last seventeen minutes because she had arrived precisely fifteen minutes before her meeting to ensure that she wouldn’t be late and she had yet to be called on. It was a wonder the whole Mandalorian army didn’t fall to pieces what with everyone having such lax views of their own schedules. Jahari ticked off the list of things she had to do for the day in her head and decided that if the meeting only took thirteen of the fifteen minutes she had allotted for it, then she wouldn’t have to cut back that time anywhere else...but what if her commander took longer than thirteen minutes? What if he took longer than fifteen? Jahari could already feel the anxiety building in her chest at the thought of it. He had never taken very long in his prior meetings with her though she wasn’t sure if that was punctuality on his part or simply a tactic he used to keep her from trying to reorganize the pens on his desk again but there was always the possibility that he might have something to say that would take longer than the time she had allotted.

Jahari glanced quickly up and down the hallway wondering who else might be waiting on the commander but there was no one in sight. She sighed and tried not to think about how many people had walked down that hallway that morning alone. How many of THEM had been sick? How many had not properly washed their hands this morning and had then coughed while moving down the hallway leaving a trail of germs in their wake that could at any moment make her sick and then she’d have to quarantine herself in her room to…

“JAHARI!”

Jahari jumped and looked up to find herself face to face with her flustered looking commander who had apparently been saying her name several times before she’d heard him. “I-I-I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t…I mean..”

The commander sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew that the girl was one of their better demolitions people but he couldn’t understand why his chain of command put up with her. She was far too much a nervous wreck to be much good to anyone but he also knew her track record on missions was spotless aside from the complaints from her teammates. That problem would be rectified today. He had been handed the portfolio just that morning on another warrior who had been transferred to his chain of command and she, like Jahari, had a bad reputation for not playing well with others. The idea to put them together had come to him like some form of genius and he quickly added them to the roster of a small Special Ops team that spent a lot of time off planet. The team consisted of only two others at the moment and they were stationed at Felucia but they were just as weird so the fit seemed natural enough. His command had quietly referred to the team as the “black hole” behind closed doors as it was where they were putting the troops that they had the most issue with in the hopes they’d up and disappear some day. Still, he couldn’t fault their results. They might be odd but they could get a job done.

“I have a new assignment for you,” he said quickly to Jahari, thrusting a datapad into her hands before she could properly get wound up, “take this. It’s got the information on your new partner in it as well as the new team you are assigned to. Pack and take your gear to the hanger. You’ll find a ship there named the Silk Specter. That’s your new home. You’ll meet Cyar’ika Vevut there. Dismissed.”

With that, the door was closed again in Jahari’s face and she stood blinking at it in confusion. She looked down at the datapad in her hand and shuddered. Once again she’d been transferred. Once again she’d be moved from tiny room to tiny room and she’d have a whole NEW contingent of teammates to ignore her when she’d just gotten used to the old ones ignoring her. She sighed and pulled out a small moist wipe from the pouch around her waist, her hands immediately setting to the task of disinfecting the datapad while she shuffled down the hallway though her mind was a million miles away. She wondered where her brother was, whether he already knew she’d been transferred again and whether he’d know where to find her when he came back from the Inner Rim at last.

Jahari packed her meager belongings and tossed the neatly labeled boxes onto a small grav sled she’d procured. Her hands were wrapped in thin latex gloves since she wasn’t sure HOW long it’d been since the grav sled had been cleaned and she didn’t have the time to properly take care of it. She marched along the hallways toward the hangar and tried to ignore the pauses in conversation that accompanied her passing. She knew many of those present didn’t much care for her and they were more than likely a little relieved to see her go. It would mean less midnight cleaning parties in the main recreation room and they could happily wallow in their filth as they seemed so determined to do. Jahari trudged along, passing small craft after small craft until she finally came to a fairly well sized vessel with the words “Silk Specter” written on the aft hatch. It wasn’t massive by any means but was a fairly well armored and compact little ship from what she could make of the outside.

Jahari wandered up the small cargo ramp along the side and wandered into the narrow hallway that ran along the interior of the ship. It smelled like two day old spicy food and unwashed gym socks and the Iradonian wrinkled her nose in distaste. She’d have her work cut out for her to get the ship into a semi-livable state of cleanliness but it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. There were no mountainous trash heaps that she could identify yet and that was a relief to some small extent. “H-hello?” she said in a small uncertain voice. Meeting new people was always the hardest part of reassignment. What if this Cyar person didn’t like her right from the start? She’d be stuck on a ship with someone who hated her…of course, she’d been on plenty of missions with people who hated her so it wouldn’t exactly be new but she hoped for more than that this time.

[Dutch]

The smell of machinery was a delightful one indeed. Oil and grease, metal and plastic, all melded into one glorified stench that just sang star ship. Cyar'ika lay on her back in a compartment in the ceiling of the Spectre with all four hands occupied with a nasty jammed piston. She grunted in frustration and her legs that hung from the hatch kicked as she struggled with it. Her two top hands spun one of the bearings on the piston to loosen it up before it hissed and gave a little. Usually Cyar'ika kept her gloves on all hands, but with delicate work like this, she needed to feel skin on metal. Two of the four long black gloves hunt on a pipe that ran on the wall of the hall under her, right above a pair of white sandals.

Her lower right arm snagged a towel that was next to herself and wiped some sweat and hair from her face, which left a nice dark grease smear across her forehead and right cheek. Gorram piston gonna drive me up a wall! Cyar thought and grunted as she struggled with the bottom bearing on the piston. The Codru-Ji stopped for a minute and lay there with her arms sprawled out above her. Hours of hard work and maintenance had exhausted the woman, but this was the last task before her beloved Spectre would be ready. Just as she was about to get to work, a tiny, timid voice sounded in her ship.

"Yeah! O'er here!"

Responded Cyar with a light yell that echoed through the compartment. She hoped that the voice would hear her well enough, and see the pair of bare feet that dangled from where she worked. Cyar'ika wasn't going to get down until her work was finished. Once her little break was over she reached up with her upper pair of arms to finish tightening the piston as her other pair of arms used a tube of grease to lube it up. Aaaand that should do it. Cyar'ika thought with a small victory snort.

She wriggled her body to shimmy down the compartment a bit. Her butt hung down and she was glad her pants were belted down well. After a moment Cyar'ika was able to finagle herself onto her stomach and grabbed the edge of the compartment with all four hands. She swung herself down and hung there from the compartment with a grin on her grease-smeared face.

"Well hello there- you gotta be Jahari then, ne? The Commander said he'd be sendin' ya o'er. Wow that's a lotta stuff, you realize this isn't a charter ship, right?"

Cyar'ika winked at Jahari with that tease and dropped down to her feet. A soft pang sounded from the light gray tile and all four of Cyar'ika's arms stretched out. The towel that she had used earlier was slung around her neck and was once more used to pad down some more sweat. Little did Cyar know what type of person Jahari was, and that her grease and dust covered form would most likely scare her worse than a gundark on spice. Her lower left hand tugged her tank down to cover her stomach a bit more and another hand grabbed her glasses that sat on the same pipe as her gloves.

"I hope he gave ya some detail on where we're goin', 'cause I don't have a clue."

She said as those black framed glasses were slid on. Cyar shook some of her black air back and smiled at Jahari again, the other woman's exotic features were a nice change from most humanoids, they always seemed to look alike to Cyar. Her lower right hand gestured for Jahari to move past the Codru-Ji as the upper right grabbed her gloves from the pipe.

"Well, better help you pick a bunk eh? Go ahead and choose one, 'cept for the captains chamber- that den is mine, obviously."

[Otterling]

Jahari was about to wander further into the ship, another attempt at communication poised on her lips when she heard the muffled call of someone ahead to her left. She turned and moved cautiously in that direction, her arms tucked neatly into her sides as she tried not to touch anything. There was no telling when the ship had last seen a good cleaning. As she came to a T section in the hallway, her eyes fell on a pair of dirty feet dangling from an open panel in the ceiling. The muscle under Jahari’s right eye twitched. How could anyone live like that? Didn’t this Cyar person have any idea how many types of fungus she could pick up with her feet bare like that? What if she had some nanizziopsiosis on board? It was a flesh eating fungi that could take her whole foot off in a matter of weeks and she’d never know it until it was too late. Jahari’s eyes scanned over the rest of the hallway and noted the small white sandals, her gaze lingering on them with a shudder as she noted the toe indentations and slight brown staining of the soles where the woman’s feet obviously sat. That…that should be wiped off. A few swipes with an antibacterial wipe would take that right off and then a bath in some bleach and water solution would return the sandals to their original color without any loss to the integrity of the cloth covering them.

Jahari had already taken an unconscious step toward the shoes when she heard the other woman begin wriggling her way back. Both hands were snapped guiltily behind her and the young woman averted her eyes from the shoes as best she could. She should have learned her lesson before about cleaning the belongings of other people. How many times had THAT put her on someone’s bad side? But those shoes…they could be cleaned so easily. It wouldn’t take long. It wouldn’t even cost the other woman anything and then she could be free from the risk of flesh eating fungi if she would of course just wash her feet off afterward and then apply a topical treatment just to be safe. Jahari’s thoughts were interrupted as the rest of her new partner slid out of the compartment above and landed with a thump a few feet away. The twitch under Jahari’s eye worsened. There had to be a mistake. This wasn’t funny. Maybe someone thought it was, maybe her commander was laughing right now because he’d paired her with someone who was covered head to toe in enough grime and dust that Jahari half expected a cloud of it to rise off of her when she landed on the floor. Maybe this was some sort of horrible nightmare. Or maybe she was being punished for something.

Jahari could barely register what Cyar was saying as her eyes flicked from one point of grime to the next. There was an almost audible whimper and Jahari’s whole form seemed to shrink in obvious discomfort when Cyar simply shoved her glasses on over the grease and dirt on her face. “…gave ya some detail… “ There would be grease on the glass now. There would be grit and dust mingled into that grease which would then chafe and smear underneath the think plastic frames of the glasses. “…better help you pick…” She was grabbing down gloves from a pipe but she hadn’t washed her hands yet and that would put grease and dust and grime all over the gloves and oh if there was any sort of sanity left in the worlds, she wouldn’t put those on and then trap the grease under it against her skin, held there by the leather which wouldn’t breathe and then there would be grease and grit and dirt and dust and sweat in there and that was enough to make Jahari’s spine try to dig into her legs. She cringed and a shudder coursed through her body as she stared unblinking at the glasses and a large smear of grease that had been smudged when Cyar had put them on.

A moist wipe was in Jahari’s hands before she even realized it and she peeled off her own gloves with a strange desperation as her mind kept supplying the image of all that filth against her own skin. She wiped at her hands repeatedly and then wrapped it carefully around the handle of her grave sled before shuffling past Cyar. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the woman lest she want to wipe her off or go mad from the desire. Jahari curled in on herself, trying her best not to touch anything around her as she made her way toward the sleeping quarters Cyar had gestured to. She stared forlornly at the small thin mattress that lay rolled up at the end of the tiny sleep platform in the room she’d be living in for the next indefinite amount of time. It would take a lot of cleaning to make this place her own but that thought was strangely comforting in and of itself. She pulled the sled up and stacked her boxes up on her bed. She knew she should try and make conversation with the other woman but, as usual, nothing came to mind worth discussing. Somehow “Hi, nice to meet you, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY STAND STILL AND LET ME CLEAN YOU!” didn’t strike her as the best way to make friends.

Instead, Jahari simply pushed the now empty sled back out into the hangar and then returned to her room where she began hunting for the box labeled neatly with her cleaning supplies. She donned a thin breathing mask, a set of heavy rubber gloves, and a pair of goggles and then snatched up a scrub brush and a heavy duty all purpose cleaner before dropping to her knees and scooting to the farthest corner of the room to begin her task. It was strange how much she could relax the moment she was actively cleaning something. At least then her mind wasn’t fretting over things and she was doing something to stay busy.

[Dutch]

Cyar'ika's right eyebrow would raise questioningly as Jahari seemed to stare at her glasses. It wasn't the first thing the similar-aged woman had stared at like that. It made Cyar a little nervous, she couldn't tell if the look was of simple want or horror, or both. A slight dimple formed in her left cheek as an uncertain smirk touched her face. As they walked down the halls of the Spectre Cyar couldn't help but notice how adamantly Jahari avoided the walls of the ship. Maybe she's afraid of space flight? Wouldn't be the first person I've met like that...

She mentally shrugged it off and paused as Jahari seemed to choose her own little nook in the Spectre. Cyar'ika couldn't help but grin at this, seemed like even people who hated space flight, could feel at home on her little runner. She watched with curious eyes as Jahari unloaded then ran the sled back to the hangar. Those ice-blues would continue to follow Jahari as she seemed to get to work... cleaning. That smirk returned as her eyes briefly glanced at Jahari's firm rump, and for once, she was almost grateful to find out that she was a cleaning nut.

"So... guess the place could use a good cleaning, the Spectre's mechanics got me workin' on her constantly, and that means the interior suffers a little. Heh..."

Cyar'ika wouldn't admit it, but the way Jahari was hunched over, and the way she avoided touching the Spectre like it was a colonial ubotuber infection... actually embarrassed the Codru-Ji a little bit. Slight pink touched her pale cheeks and Cyar purposefully turned to face away from Jahari and crossed her arms over her chest. With her back pressed against the wall next to Jahari's bunk door opening, the woman took a slow breath. Maybe having her own personal cleaning person would actually help the place?

The woman was at a bit of a loss for words at this point, a mix of embarrassment and shame touched her as she glanced down at herself, and realized why Jahari had looked at her so. From torso to toe she was covered in grease and dirt from her work on her ship. No wonder she wasn't lookin' at me quite right... Cyar'ika shook herself mentally and peaked back into the room.

"Um, I'm gonna go hit the showers real quick, clean up a bit. After that maybe you'd like a tour of the Spectre? Prolly gonna see a lot of her for a bit."

After a moment Cyar'ika exhaled and straightened up before she turned on her heal and padded over to the little shower nook. Once in it she stripped down and took a quick, but efficient shower. How people could get anything done with only two arms befuddled her, everything would take twice as long! After several minutes Cyar was satisfied with how much grime had been removed, and she turned the water off and dried down.

Luckily Cyar's bunk was literally right next to the shower, so after a quick look to make sure Jahari couldn't see, she bounded round the corner into her room to change. Now in a comfortable pair of cloth pants and a tank top Cyar'ika walked back to Jahari's room and knocked with two of her four arms on the wall next to the door.

[Otterling]

To say Jahari felt bad for not replying to Cyar’s obvious attempts to talk to her would have been a massive understatement. It was the first time in a long time that anyone at all had tried to strike up a conversation without it starting off with the words “oh my gods, what have you DONE???” She sighed a little in relief when the other woman announced that she was off to take a shower as it would give Jahari a little time to try and get her thoughts straight. As long as the grease wasn’t on Cyar’s nose still when she returned, the Irodian was pretty sure she’d be able to at least try her hand at making a friend for once. She inhaled deeply as the scent of fresh cleaning spray filled her small room and she scrubbed with a vigor that would have stripped flesh from bone, content in her task of setting up her small room. She knew she wouldn’t be sleeping that night…or probably the night after it but once she got the space cleaned and set up to her liking, she was pretty sure she could be happy there.

The room was small enough that she knew after its initial cleaning that she would be able to maintain it with only about two hours of additional upkeep each night. That was a full half hour less than her last room. Of course, she probably wouldn’t be allowed to paint this room white though. The dull gray of the walls was something Jahari would simply have to live with unless she could convince her teammate to let her redecorate. She had already scrubbed a one foot by one foot square of the floor to a dull gleam that was as close to factory new as the metal had probably seen since it was installed by the time the knock sounded on her door. She looked up from her hands and knees and managed a weak smile for the young woman standing in the doorway though it didn’t dawn on her that her mouth was hidden by the facemask. “I…uh…..I’m sorry,” she mumbled in a small voice, her eyes darting about at the perfectly symmetrical stack of boxes on her bed with their perfect labels and the scrub brush in her hand. She knew she must look odd sitting on the floor in all but a biohazard suit trying to scrub the color off the metal.

“I’m…I just…” The words didn’t seem to want to come out right but she swallowed hard and tried her best anyway. “I’m odd," she blurted, …I mean, not in a stalk you while you sleep kind of way, though I guess that’s odd too but that’s not me really, I’m more of a clean your shoes while you sleep kind of person though I guess stalking is a fairly sanitary habit if you think about it, you know? Cause you never actually touch anyone you just watch them but I would think that would get boring after a while…” Jahari trailed off as she realized she’d been rambling. It wasn’t a first for her; such things tended to happen when she finally did get up enough nerve to speak to someone. By the time she could force the words out of her mouth, she couldn’t figure out how to shut them off again. Her brain was usually too busy running a mile a minute for her to really consider her words before they rolled out. “Uh….tour. Tour sounds nice,” she finished lamely. If it weren’t for her black skin, she knew she’d be blushing.

[Dutch]

Cyar could barely stifle a giggle at the site of Jahari on the ground in her gear. She had trouble believing that her people would employ such an odd woman within their ranks, but then again, her oddness was probably tied into genius. Cyar'ika just hoped that she wouldn't wake one morning to find Jahari in her room cleaning. But then again, if she was in Cyar's room from the night before... The Codru-Ji shook her head for a second and brought a hand up to fix her glasses. She'd only just met Jahari, and was already thinking of bedding her? Bet she'd only do it in the shower...

Her thought of a wet, naked Jahari was swept away as the woman spoke once more. Those blue eyes blinked in somewhat shock as the Zabrak went on her rant, Cyar'ika not completely certain what to say. She could only imagine how hard it had just been for Jahari to open herself that way to a complete stranger, and Cyar'ika heart skipped a beat. No one had ever been so honest with the Codru-Ji before. It was a rare thing, and Cyar didn't want to ruin the moment by being the one to keep something hidden. Cyar'ika offered Jahari a smile.

"Well, I can say I'm glad you told me this so soon- I know that musta been hard... So, lemme share something with you."

With her last sentence Cyar's lower right hand moved to pull the left one's glove off. The thin dark leather slid down her fair skin until blue tinted metal replaced the skin and the glove was removed to reveal a simple, but elegant prosthetic hand that stopped between her elbow and wrist. Her cheeks flushed pink and a nervous little laugh came from Cyar'ika. Only her closest friends and family have ever seen this part of the Codru-Ji, as it was her greatest shame.

"You're not the only odd one toots. Now drop that crap, we gotta show you around."

And then, Cyar'ika did what she thought would speak strongly to Jahari. One of her hands plucked one of Jahari's gloves from the box and it was slid over her metallic hand. That same hand was offered to Jahari as Cyar'ika stepped close to help her to her feet. Cyar wasn't sure exactly how Jahari would react, but for some reason, she cared deeply what the woman thought of her- it was amazing how a simple gesture such as opening up to a person could have such an effect.

[Otterling]

There was a pause after Jahari stopped ranting and in the space of that few seconds, before Cyar had time to react, Jahari’s brain had already notified her in no uncertain terms that she’d just screwed up again. No doubt the poor woman thought she’d had a psycho nutjob thrust onto her ship and Jahari half waited for that uncomfortable moment when Cyar would just back slowly for the door like most people did after one of her rants. It wasn’t like she was actually going to kill anyone or anything…well, technically she was but it was only the people she was SUPPOSED to kill, not her teammates and now Cyar was smiling at her….

Jahari blinked a few times and stared in shock at the other woman, her hand frozen in mid scrub as if she were suddenly afraid to break the fragile moment and frighten Cyar off like some small animal. The smile didn’t falter though, instead it stayed steady as the codru-ji expressed her thanks at being told early on about Jahari’s strange habits. No one, ever, in the history of her life, had thanked her for telling them about her oddities without it sounding like they were placating her while they ran for help and yet here she was, facing this strange new teammate who was even then pulling off her gloves to “share” something of her own. When the metal arm was revealed, Jahari stared at it blankly for a moment and then let a small smile play over her lips. No one had ever shared a secret right back with her before…not that her need to clean or her being odd was much of a secret but still, it was a nice gesture and not something Jahari was used to.

The timid laugh that rose up from Cyar made it obvious that the prosthetic was not something she expected a good reaction to normally but Jahari saw nothing at all wrong with it. It was no different than her armor in her opinion and if she could have traded her fleshy body for just being a droid, she would have. Of course then she wouldn’t be flexible enough to clean her own joints and then she’d have stuff stuck in there and have to rely on other people to clean her and what if someone just wiped her memory by accident while they were trying to get some oil out of her neck or something….

Jahari’s eyes snapped to Cyar as the woman came into the room and she watched with disbelief while the codru-ji reached over and tugged on one of the latex gloves Jahari kept among her cleaning supplies. It was another major gesture no one had ever made before. Normally they just tried to offer her a hand to shake and then got all offended when she refused it. Cyar was different though and in that simple attempt on the pilot’s part to at least comply Jahari’s strange needs even if she didn’t understand them went a long way with the Irodian. It was like someone had turned on a light and she instantly decided she liked this strange woman. She reached up and plucked the breathing mask off her face, setting it and the scrub brush aside as she took the offered hand. There was no hesitation in her grip and she wasn’t the slightest bit put off by the metal grip. Jahari preferred droids to people most times anyway. They complained less and were more hygienic.

“You know…” she said hesitantly, “that’s useful in a lot of ways. You can sanitize it so much more thoroughly than you can a flesh hand and that would mean you could do all sorts of stuff with it and you wouldn’t need the glove cause you’d be sterile there already and you could even probably do surgery if you wanted, not that I think you’re a surgeon or anything, I mean you COULD be one, I don’t know it’s entirely possible that you’re very good with medicine but I just mean you don’t look like you’d be a doctor, not to say that I don’t think you look intelligent….I’m going to shut up now.” She offered Cyar a weak and embarrassed smile and tucked her head a bit. It was…nice to finally have a friend, that is, if Cyar thought of her as a friend already. Jahari was certainly more than willing to chalk Cyar up as a friend. She had shown more kindness and acceptance in the short fifteen minutes they’d known each other than Jahari had ever seen from anyone but her own family…and Zuka…

[Dutch]

At Jahari's words a big grin broke out on Cyar'ika's face to reveal her slightly extended canines and perfect teeth. She rotated the mechanical hand and looked at it in a way she never had before. Most people looked down on prosthetic limbs. Jahari seemed to have a different view on the galaxy than the people Cyar had meet before, and she liked this view. A little chuckle bubbled from the Codru-Ji and she waggled a finger in Jahari's direction.

"Maybe I should get a vibrating tip for a finger, I'd never get lonely again!"

The chuckle turned into a full blown laugh with a couple snorts thrown into the mix. It was rare to get Cyar to laugh hard enough to get 'the snorts' as her father used to call them, and it actually surprised Cyar'ika for a moment. She stared at the Zabrak woman, ice-blue eyes met orange and Cyar held the gaze. The woman had never seen eyes that color before, and against Jahari's dark skin, gave her an exotic look that was as unique as it was beautiful. Cyar's smile got softer for a moment before she gestured with her upper right hand for Jahari to follow.

All her gloves would be put back into place and she turned around to walk down the hall. First there were the bunks, since they were there already. Jahari had chosen one of the two private rooms besides the captain's chamber, the other was right across the hall from her. The next two rooms before the 'fresher had two sets of thin bunk beds in them, and next to the 'fresher was Cyar's room. The hall that led to the bunks also turned into the galley, a nook in the hall that had a medium sized round table and a few tables magnetically held to the floor. The 'cooler and a big metal sink sat behind the table with a few cabinets above the sink.

The engine room was next, and Cyar asked that nothing get cleaned in there at least, it was a delicate mess that kept the Spectre running. Far from the engine room and on the opposite side of the bunks was a set of five force-cages that weren't on. In the center of all the chaos was the living room. A larger table sat in the very middle of the room with benches on each side. In a carved nook sat a large, round, plush yellow couch and a coffee table bolted to the floor in front of it.

Last but not least, with much pride, Cyar showed Jahari the cockpit. A small seat was perched behind a complex array of buttons and switches which sat on either side of the controls. A navcomp was perched on the right wall and the opposite was a series of monitors that showed every room on the Spectre. Cyar'ika spun the pilot's chair around and plopped into it. She crossed one set of arms and gestured with open arms as her legs crossed.

"So... whatcha think?"

[Otterling]

If Jahari’s skin hadn’t been black, it would have flushed an immense red at Cyar’s joke. Instead, she pulled back and curled in on herself in an obvious display of discomfort though she still offered the other woman a lopsided and awkward smile. Her hands tucked themselves down by her navel and she couldn’t help but stare at the finger Cyar had offered up. It didn’t take much for Jahari’s mind to leap to a mental image and she suppressed a shudder at the thought. Sex was so…disgusting. All that sweat and the exchange of bodily fluids. It was a horribly violent thing as well. It could kill her. Respiration goes up, temperature goes up, muscles spasm like the person is lifting three times their body weight, brain firing random synapses…it was all so hectic and terrifying. She could well have a heart attack and die from it and she didn’t want that to be on her tombstone. She sort of figured it would simply read ‘She snapped like we always knew she would’, not ‘She got screwed and died of some horrible nameless disease or heart attack or BOTH.’

Despite her best efforts though, Jahari found herself looking at Cyar as the woman dissolved into raucous laughter and her affection for her new friend grew, regardless of her sense of humor. She found it immeasurably cute that her companion snorted when she laughed. It was unusual and it made Jahari smile. Once Cyar calmed some, she turned and for a moment their eyes locked. It was the first time Jahari had really noticed the other woman’s eyes. They were…well…they were beautiful. They were the color of the ice flows on Kuras IV where Jahari had spent the last happy years she’d known and she couldn’t help but notice how they were framed against skin like living marble. The paleness of Cyar’s skin made her dark hair and the coal black of her lashes stand out in sharp relief. Even the glasses which shielded those frosty eyes from the outside world were in perfect harmony with the rest of her. Cyar was lean and her well defined muscle stood out in ways that made Jahari’s stomach churn nervously. She’d only ever felt that sensation around one other person and she hadn’t been allowed to do anything about it.

Jahari watched the gleaming white of Cyar’s teeth retreat once more behind the thick soft lips that never the less maintained a gentle smile. She tore her gaze away, suddenly uncomfortable with what she had been feeling and instead concentrated on watched Cyar put her gloves back on. There was something immeasurably fascinating about the fluid ease with which all four arms moved. For some reason, Jahari kept expecting them to get in the way of one another but of course Cyar could as easily keep them apart as Jahari could her own. She followed obediently behind the ship’s captain and owner as the tour was given, her gaze flicking from room to room. Already her mind was creating a list of things to clean and she figured she might want to grab a few more boxes of supplies before they lifted off if she was going to make any headway on getting the whole ship into livable conditions for her. She nodded her mute understanding as she was shown the engine room and while all the equipment was fascinating, she figured it was best to just stay clear of it so she tried her best not to look too hard at the jumble of parts and tools that were scattered about or the small oil spill along the left wall, three inches away from the main cooling tank, lest she want badly to clean it some night.

She meandered about and took note of everything, her mind quickly cataloging what would need to be cleaned and adjusting for how long it would take. She was pretty sure that she wouldn’t be getting to sleep for a while but it was ok. She liked a good challenge. When they finally entered the cockpit, Jahari stared around in obvious wonder, her bright gaze flicking over every inch of every panel. She’d never been allowed to fly her uncle’s ship but she’d been in that cockpit multiple times. Still, every ship had its own personality and this one was no different. She stared at the array of monitors and swallowed audibly. “Uh…that doesn’t show my room, does it?” she asked meekly. The idea of being watched while she slept or changed or cleaned or readjusted things for the twelfth time as she was inclined to do on bad nights didn’t sit well with her. “I mean, it’s a wonderful ship. It is. I love it. I’m going to need to get some more supplies,” she murmured almost to herself as an afterthought, “and I can start by finishing my room and then I will work on the galley next and then move to the fresher cause that needs to be clean so that when we clean up we won’t get dirty again when we get out of the showers….”

Jahari smiled at Cyar and wrung her hands in front of her. This was it…the awkward silence now. What did she say? What did normal people talk about? The weather? Sports? She hated sports. Too much grunting and sweating and dirt. The ship? No, they’d just talked about the ship…sort of.

“What do you do?” she blurted out as her mind latched onto the idea. She didn’t want the conversation to end yet, afraid she would risk losing the momentum on the first real friendship she’d known in over 11 years and it seemed like a logical question. After all, she would need to know what her teammate was capable of, right?

[Dutch]

Jahari was lucky that Cyar hadn't seen the way she checked her out. At this point in time, Cyar'ika saw the Zabrak as an innocent woman, and any thoughts of dark delights would alter that outlook, if only in a more physical way. Cyar giggled at Jahari's first quetion, it was a valid one for sure, she wondered if the Zabrak woman knew that Cyar'ika had already checked her out when she thought Jahari wasn't looking. But the Codru-Ji shook her head and sat forward. The fingers of her top arms wove together and the elbows rested on her knees while the other pair remained crossed. Her chin rested on her folded fingers and a gentle smile touched her lips.

"No. Not unless a disturbance is detected in the bunks, sudden heavy weight shift, potentially dangerous chemical levels, extreme temperature changes or sudden change in audio levels. The Spectre is smarter than you'd think, she'll watch over us. But I'm glad you like her, she's been more of a home to me than anywhere else. I hope she grows on you too."

Cyar'ika offered Jahari a welcoming smile and nodded as she mentioned getting more supplies. That was fine, there was still another couple hours before it was time to leave Mandalore. She laughed softly at Jahari's final question, not in a mocking tone, but at the very subject. She pursed her lips slightly and fixed her glasses in thought.

"Well... that's a good question actually. Women, to say the least, men never really did anything for me, not soft enough...

She started but quickly glanced up to Jahari and snickered. Sometimes she just couldn't help getting in a line like that, people's reactions were always too priceless.

Jahari, babe, don't worry, I won't be hittin' on ya unless you throw me a sign. But to answer your question, besides piloting and repairs, I'm what you'd call a gunslinger, heavy blaster specialization. Oh, and knives. And wasp batons. And sabotage... I think that's it. I know what you do, besides clean way too much- you're a crack shot with a sniper rifle, and a steady hand with explosives. Trained by your uncle, you have a brother you don't see too often anymore. I'm not stalking you, the Commander sent me your service file before you came."

After that little speech Cyar'ika arched her back to stretch it and gestured back towards the rest of the ship. If she did want to get anything else before take off, now was the time, and Cyar was sure that her expression would tell Jahari that.

[Otterling]

Jahari relaxed a little once Cyar explained that she wouldn’t be under constant surveillance like some sort of lab rat though she was fairly sure the ship would be doing its fair share of monitoring her room considering the sheer amount of chemicals she used to clean with and how often she would get up some nights. She hoped Cyar wouldn’t actually go watch those recordings. The last thing Jahari needed was for her new friend to see her spazzing out and hanging upside down from a ventilator shaft while she scrubbed like a maniac on some ceiling tile that had been haunting her with its one discolored spot. She pulled her eyes away from the monitors as Cyar began answering her question but the answer confused her at first. She stared blankly at the codru-ji for a few seconds, blinking slowly and trying to wrap her mind around what had just been said and then cringing openly when she put two and two together. So…so Cyar was interested in women? Jahari tried not to think about it. It was better that way. She rarely ever thought about such things. They were just a mass of confusion. She couldn’t do anything about it even if she DID think about them and that would just lead to more anxiety as she stared and longed for that which she knew she’d never have because in the end how could she actually love someone without being able to touch them and only Zuza had ever provoked such things in her and look how THAT turned out…

Puppies and kittens…..Jahari liked puppies and kittens. Her mind reached out and groped blindly for a more comfortable subject that she could process without hyperventilating. Of course, she couldn’t ever OWN a puppy or a kitten as they were terribly messy and bore all sorts of terrible diseases but they were adorable to look at and a lot less confusing than the sexually attractive person sitting across from her with her arms folded saying something about Uncle Skocha and Hunan and cleaning supplies which Jahari did need to go get but she couldn’t think about that right now because she was too busy thinking about what all those arms would be used for at once and that made her feel weird because she’d never been attracted to women before.

Jahari blinked a few times as her brain caught up with what Cyar was saying. She hoped she hadn’t spaced out too bad. She tended to do that sometimes when her mind was dealing with something she didn’t quite know how to accept. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d stood still, a vacant expression on her face as she processed some thought, or more precisely, some train of thoughts a mile long, only to come back to a conversation already in progress. It was odd how Jahari’s mind still managed to snag all of what Cyar had said though and it threw the information back to her in sharp simple bullet points. Pilot. Repairman. Gunslinger with heavy blasters. Knife and wasp baton expert. The points rolled by and Jahari filed them away for later. She could think more about that while she cleaned something tonight instead of sleeping. It was at least some comfort to know she wouldn’t have to explain her own skill set to Cyar. It could get a little awkward sometimes to explain to someone that she blew things up…a lot. Jahari actually giggled a little at the stalking comment.

“It’d be ok if you were stalking me. That just means you’d be thorough in your information which is good because you could use it later and stalking isn’t so bad in light of how much that info could help once we needed to work together and then you could always let me know when I’d left a light on or something that I didn’t know about…come to think of it, a stalker would be kind of helpful, you know? They could just double check behind you and leave you a note or something telling about that thing you forgot to do….” Jahari paused as she thought the idea over. Maybe stalking someone wasn’t THAT bad after all. It was like being helpful…only more obsessive.

Jahari smiled meekly again and turned in the direction Cyar had indicated. It didn’t take her long to get the supplies she needed since the supply crew already knew her by name and had special orders that usually came in just for her. They even cut the containers open so Jahari could count them for herself the way they knew she would and that saved her some time. She appreciated the effort even if they only did it to get her out of their hair sooner. She loaded the cleaning supplies into the spare room on the ship, stacking the boxes alphabetically by product name before finally turning to find Cyar again. “I-I’m done…” she said quietly to the pilot, “We can take off now I guess…so….so can you show me how the ship works? I watched my Uncle pilot ours but after that one time with the hyperdrive and the coordinates issues, he wouldn’t let me fly it again but I didn’t know that you shouldn’t try and recalculate the hyperdrive coordinates while in midflight but I wasn’t sure if I had put them in right and I wanted to check…” She tapered off and looked down at the extra chair that sat next to the navigation panel. A wet sanitation napkin was in her hand in an instant and she scrubbed down the whole surface thoroughly before finally sliding into the seat. It took her a few moments to get comfortable. She had to be sure that there were no wrinkles in her shirt before she leaned back. She could always feel the wrinkles there otherwise and wouldn’t be able to listen to what Cyar was saying.

[Dutch]

An almost coy smile touched Cyar's lips as Jahari became obviously befuddled and flustered. After Jahari snapped out of her little thought process the Codru-Ji just gave her a knowing expression, albeit a subtle one. Her smile grew as Jahari giggled, a light, flinty little thing that just tugged at Cyar'ika's heartstrings. Did this girl just say it was OK for me to stalk her? Cyar almost didn't believe this, she actually reasoned why a stalker would be a good thing.

As Jahari smiled at Cyar after her little rant the Codru-Ji winked at her ever-so slightly. She could tell the Zabrak woman had a kind heart, even with the obsessive and confused mind. After she left Cyar rose gracefully from her seat and stepped to the navicomp. All four hands worked diligently to key in coordinates, map destination, and plug in equations. What would normally take someone fifteen minutes to program took Cyar only seven. Having an extra set of hands was literally handy. Once that was done she stepped to the controls and sat in her chair again before the seat was spun to face the viewport.

Once more those hands worked, switches were flipped, buttons pressed and nobs turned, all in exact, precise order, just as she was taught. The telltale sound of footsteps down the hall told Cyar that Jahari had returned from her last errand. She spun the chair just in time to face Jahari, the Codru-Ji offered her a welcoming smile and a small wave. She nodded when Jahari said she was all set and motioned for the girl to take a seat at the navcomp. A little snort-giggle came from Cyar as Jahari began to clean and spun her chair back around.

"Well, we got a seventy-two hour flight to our destination, I promise a quick lesson on the Spectre in route, sound good toots? And don't worry, the Spectre is programmed so that literally nothing but direct pilot intervention can interrupt her jump. We're quite safe aboard this boat."

Cyar clucked her tongue as a few final switches were flipped with one of her left hands. It was show time. The entrance ramp on the side of the Spectre slid up and the hatch closed. Steam escaped a few vents and the engines began to whir and roar to life. A big grin spread over Cyar's lips at the thrill of the ship as it came to life. Cyar'ika was meant for this. The comm clicked at the console near Jahari and a man's voice said "Spectre cleared for take-off, keep your eyes peeled for Republic patrols."

She guided the blockade runner out over the other docked ships and towards the open gate to the dock. A couple bleeps sounded to Cyar's right which signaled the ship had cleared itself for flight. The Spectre slid out into the atmosphere and the audible hiss of the ship sealing itself for spaceflight sounded. The nose of the Spectre tilted up and Cyar's lower right arm pushed on the throttle lightly, but it was enough for the engines to howl and propel them forward, right through the atmosphere and into the starry abyss.

Once they were home free from gravity, a few more switches would be flicked and a nob would be turned, the Spectre was now flying herself towards the jump point. Cyar peered to her right back at Jahari to make sure she was OK, a smile broke out and she giggled.

"I just LOVE doing that! Ready to jump? After that we're good to do whatever."

Mere minutes later the ship lined itself up, and Cyar pushed the necessary lever forward to initiate a jump. Stars streaked into lines and the Spectre lunged into space. Cyar'ika sighed in relief at another successful jump and spun her seat around. Her legs crossed and her lower left arms rested on the chair's arm rest. Cyar's other set both adjusted her glasses and gestured for Jahari to lead out of the cockpit.

"Well, it's kinda a long trip, any idea what to do for now?"

[Otterling]

Jahari sat stiff and upright in her chair, her eyes peeled on the control panel in front of Cyar. The steps weren’t too far off from what her uncle had shown her during all their travels though there were some obvious differences due to make and manufacture of the ship. The speed and competency with which Cyar wielded all four of her arms was a source of unending fascination for Jahari. She had never stuck around anyone with multiple limbs before for any extended period of time, mostly because she didn’t stick around anyone except her family for any extended period of time. Everyone else was either a walking biohazard or got too fed up with her to stay around for long. She jumped a little at the sudden voice next to her elbow and turned to look at the offending console where someone had just given them clearance. All the buttons glowed up at her in varying shades of red, orange, yellow, and green. She glanced over all the writing on the panel but it was distinctively lacking in labels to tell her what everything did. Jahari was certain that if she ever had a ship of her own, she’d make sure all the instrument panels were clearly labeled. It might make the ship easier to steal but then she wouldn’t have to worry about hitting the wrong thing or someone coming onto the ship and hitting the wrong thing and if someone was strong and smart enough to steal a ship from her in the first place, the least she could do was be polite and make sure they didn’t accidentally hit the wrong button before she found them and killed them.

The ship tilted up toward the clear blue field above the base and Jahari slid backwards on her freshly wiped seat so that her back was pressed against the thick padding. She reached reflexively for the seatbelt and strapped herself in just to be sure. The last thing she needed was to fall out and wind up on the floor. She hadn’t cleaned there yet. Of course, Cyar might not let her clean there at all but it wouldn’t be as much of an issue if everything was labeled because then she could clean without accidentally hitting any clearly marked buttons that said self destruct on them though she wasn’t entirely sure why any ship would come with a self destruct button. The addition of a way to blow one’s own ship up had never struck her as so desperately important that all models should come with it and yet it seemed like a standard feature. Jahari curled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her nose on top so she could peer over to watch the ship as it jumped into hyperspace. She so did love this part. The thrill of her stomach climbing into her spine as gravity of the planet fought against the engines speeding them upwards. The light of the atmosphere flickered in shades of burning orange and red as they exited and made their way into space.

If Jahari truly had a home besides the ship she’d grown up on, space would be it. There was no place cleaner or safer. Nothing survived out there. Nothing could grow in it. It was a perfect vacuum that went on infinitely and she adored every inch. Out there, one could see the jeweled orbs that were the scattered worlds of the galaxy, tossed across the emptiness like a child’s marbles on black velvet. She took in a deep breath as if she could smell the freedom calling to her and settled in with a soft child-like smile on her face. Staring out of a viewport was one of the few things besides cleaning that could make her relax, could convince her brain to quiet for a few moments as if in respect for something much larger than itself. She turned much calmer eyes on Cyar as the pilot turned to check on her and offered the woman a genuine and tired looking smile. Oh how Jahari wished these moments would just last for a lot longer. It was nice for those few brief moments to just sit and not think too much. She knew it wouldn’t last, it never did, but it was always a good respite when she could get it.

The ship lurched forward, the stars stretched out into infinity and then the moment was over. Jahari’s thoughts all spilled in on her once more like a dam breaking and she remembered all the cleaning and change of station and new team and the concern over whether the other team members would like her and be nice to her like Cyar was but it wasn’t really necessary for them to do so because at least she had one friend now and that was enough. Jahari shrugged noncommittally and turned to look at the hatch which led to the rest of the ship. “Uh….” She pressed her cheek against her knee and sighed. There were honestly a million things to do and she didn’t want to do any of them but if she didn’t she wasn’t going to be able to sleep anytime soon. “I need to make a new schedule since my old one won’t work anymore and then I need to finish cleaning my room so I can get as much of that done as I can but I’m a little hungry and I guess we could go to the galley and if you wouldn’t mind making some food, I’ll start cleaning in there and maybe we could just talk while you’re cooking and I’m cleaning, not that I expect you to do all the cooking or anything but I don’t know how and uncle made me stop after the last really bad burn so I just don’t try anymore and I usually just get some processed stuff. There’s these breakfast cakes that the old supply shop used to be able to get for me and they weren’t real good but they were filling and they came in their own little sealed packages which was nice because I could pick out as many as I want without worrying about the bag being closed though I always had to eat them in twos because otherwise I might go in there someday and want two and only have one.”

[Dutch]

Cyar's smile went almost gentle at the sight of the huddled Jahari. It was amazing how this woman was simply gorgeous and exotic by every sense of the word, and yet innocent and pure at the same time puzzled the Codru-Ji. She wondered if many Zabrak were like this, she had never truly met any before, seen plenty, killed plenty, but never sat down and got to know. Her head would tilt slightly as another Jahari rant rambled out, and Cyar couldn't help but laugh a little. If one thing was for certain, Jahari seemed to be good company, and obviously wasn't afraid to speak her mind. Cyar'ika appreciated people like this, her aunt was the same way.

She nodded as Jahari mentioned being hungry, and wanting to do some cleaning. Cyar wouldn't lie, it sounded as if the other woman could use a good, home cooked, hearty meal. Luckily for her, the man who raised Cyar was an awful cook, which meant she had to learn how to early on. Cyar half prayed that the various tools she'd need for cooking were clean- as she doubted Jahari would eat anything from or on anything 'dirty'. Well... maybe something that's not literally 'dirty'... Cyar'ika shook herself out of the thought and stood up.

"Y'know, it ain't exactly healthy to eat nothing but processed breakfast cakes. A good meal could even help settle your nerves, releases good endorphins and relaxes you. After we eat though, I want you to go shower- and don't argue or I'll pull rank on you babe. I had that bad-boy specially installed, best water pressure a person can get on their ship. Shoulda seen the old one, the fungus there talked."

Cyar'ika's expression was almost motherly in an aspect, just the sight of Jahari made her want to help the Zabrak, she couldn't explain it. She knew that she wouldn't let Cyar hold her, but the Codru-Ji just wanted to, and stroke her hair, tell her it was all going to be OK. Maybe one day far down the road, but judging by body behavior, Jahari wasn't ready for that kind of contact. Cyar began to walk out of the cockpit and waved both her left hands for Jahari to follow. Her mind ticked over the stuff in the galley that she could cook

She went right for the 'cooler and bent over to look into it better. Plenty of fresh slabs of sealed meat, a few bags of various vegetables and a large variety of bottled drinks- normal and alcoholic... Cyar'ika's mind wandered to the cabinets. Bags of grains and noodles were up there, along with the spice rack- she could definitely make something out of all this. But before that...

"Hey Jahari, anythin' you allergic to? Anythin' you refuse to eat? You thirsty?"

[Otterling]

Jahari turned her face toward Cyar as the pilot spoke and looked properly chastised over eating unhealthy foods. It wasn’t that she didn’t know they were unhealthy, it was just that she had nothing else to eat normally since cooking wasn’t a skillset she had ever been able to pick up without risk to life, limb, property and peace of mind, the latter being entirely in short supply to start with. It bothered Jahari on some level that her anxiety apparently showed so clearly that Cyar even commented on it but she couldn’t rule out good dietary habits as a way to help with it since she’d not really tried that before. Her uncle had usually done most of the cooking and between him and her brother there was usually no shortage of fried foods in the home which of course bothered her since she could practically FEEL her arteries hardening anytime they cooked. It was a good thing that they often had a lot of greens to go with most meals as that was what she ate the most. Raw greens could be trusted for the most part once they had been thoroughly washed to ensure no lingering pesticides were still in place and thus Jahari had come to love a good salad over time…or at least it was the food that gave her the least number of nervous twitches while eating.

Orange eyes went wide and horrified at the description of the old showers and she shuddered openly in a way that wracked her whole body. There was no way she would have made it on the ship with the old showers apparently, what with their fungus quotient, and as it was, that description of them ensured without question that when Jahari would go to bathe after eating, she’d be heavily armed with cleaning supplies to ensure that said fungus didn’t try to take up new residency. It didn’t matter that the water pressure was good or that the old fungus no longer grew there. Jahari would simply scrub it down while she was in there anyway as it would save her time in the long run and she could mark the freshers off of her list of places she needed to clean later, not to mention it would help keep the nightmares of walking talking fungi with strange accents, because they always seemed to have strange accents in her head, from arriving in her nightmares later.

Jahari unfurled herself and slipped from the chair to pad silently along behind Cyar. She had already determined that she liked Cyar very much and that she was going to stay friends with the pilot under any circumstances she could. The other woman was kind to her and she smelled good, like spice and vanilla, though that really had nothing to do with her kindness but it was still something Jahari enjoyed about her new friend. She wasn’t really sure why Cyar’s smell should matter but it was comforting none the less. It reminded her of her childhood when her mother and father would sit around the big open fireplace in their livingroom with the windows and doors barred shut because Uncle Skocha had come over and they always had long days inside whenever her uncle would show up bleeding and the strange people she didn’t know would come asking about him. Those were good days full of laughter and love and happiness. Cyar was the first reminder of that Jahari had known since her brother and uncle left. That alone put the codru-ji high on the list of people Jahari liked and, as was normal for her, she fell into step trailing behind the woman like a puppy after its master. She tended to follow exactly two steps behind and one to the left of people she liked since that put her out of their way while letting her stay close and ensured that the other person had ample room to move their right arm since that was normally dominant in most people while still putting her close enough o reach out and touch Cyar if she ever had the strange fleeting notion to do so, not that she would.

When they arrived at last in the galley, Jahari headed straight for the sink. She peeled open the cabinet under it and looked around for something to clean with but found only a few normal household cleansers. She scuttled off to her room and returned only a few moments later with an armload of supplies which she set on the table. As she rifled through the myriad supplies on the table, she absently responded to Cyar’s question. “Um…no, not really, I mean I don’t like fried foods much just cause I know one day they’ll give me a heartattack and there’s all that buildup in your heart from them but you can’t get it out and it’s like plaque in there but there’s no floss for it and that’s just kinda creepy really. I wanted to try and get mine out once cause I could almost FEEL it in there but my uncle stopped me which is for the best because I was young and didn’t understand and hadn’t really sanitized that hacksaw very well. I do like veggies though,” she said rather chipperly as she pulled on a set of thick latex gloves and snatched up a sponge. “I think I might be allergic to Toydarian Basa fruit though since the only time I had it, my whole face swelled up real bad and my brother laughed at me for a week after that which wasn’t very nice come to think of it. I could have died from that.” Jahari wandered over to the short counter that housed the sink and liberally sprayed it down with disinfectant, happily scrubbing away at it with the sponge in her other hand.

[Dutch]

Cyar'ika stifled a grin at Jahari's rant. Seemed no matter what subject was brought up, the young woman could talk. A lot. She found it strange, when first told that Jahari would be on the Spectre, she was told to expect a quiet reserved individual. This woman was neither quiet nor reserved. But either way, she was decent enough company, and if she cleaned the Spectre for free, Cyar had no reason to complain. After deciding on a piece of meat and a choice of leafy vegetables, Cyar nabbed them and placed the ingredients on the counter to the right of the 'cooler, opposite to where Jahari worked. In the cabinet below the counter where the food was placed Cyar reached down and grabbed a big pot with a lid that had several dials on it.

The pot was placed on a heating surface and Cyar tapped at her chin in thought. What seasoning would go best... Zeltron spice leaf? Alderaanian mint? Maybe a little Rylothian ginger... Cyar'ika nodded after her mind was made and slid behind Jahari to the Zabrak's left. Her lower set of arms moved to the counter's surface and she lifted herself up with surprising grace. While one set of arms held the woman up the other set opened a cabinet and pulled out a couple small jars of spices and a small bottle of oil. Her glasses slid down and Cyar growled with slight frustration. One of these days she was gonna find someone to fix her vision.

Once on her feet again she slipped past Jahari and shook her head at the pungent smell of cleaning supplies. Did she not smell that as well as her? It was like a punch to the face for the poor Codru-Ji. She stifled a gag and skittered away from Jahari for a moment, Cyar hoped the Zabrak didn't see. To hopefully distract from the moment Cyar set the ingredients down and pulled two knives from a wooden knife holder. She cast a sideways glance and a grin at Jahari before the Codru-Ji went to work. In flashes of metal and green vegetables, all four arms worked together seamlessly to slice up the ingredients. After a moment one set stopped to take the lid off the pressure baker while the other continued to chop, mince and slice.

Who would have thought that advanced training with knives could lead to a more efficient way to cook? Once everything was chopped up on the cutting board, Cyar tipped it into the pressure baker along with several dashes of spices and some oil. The lid would be placed on it and the various nobs were turned to the proper setting. Once she was sure everything was set Cyar smiled at Jahari and moved towards the fridge. A couple chilled bottle beverages were pulled from the 'cooler and Cyar sat down. One bottle was set on the table near the seat next to her while the other twisted the cap off Cyar'ika's. She chose not to grab the alcoholic drinks, Cyar didn't want Jahari thinking she was trying to get her drunk or anything. She looked up at Jahari with a small smile and adjusted her glasses before she said

"Well, should be 'bout twenty minutes 'till food is done, why don't you sit and take a break? Have a drink with me."

[Otterling]

In the last hour, Jahari had done more talking than she’d ever managed with anyone that wasn’t a relative or a friend of the family and that fact made her smile to herself as she scrubbed with an excessive amount of brute force on the countertop she was cleaning. The harsh abrasive she was using would certainly kill anything that could potentially live on that counter as well as anything that could live on her hands and technically her skin would be killed too if she wasn’t wearing thick gloves for protection but that only helped to ease some of the girl’s tensions. A good cleaning always helped her to relax some and there was something wonderful about the way an item would shine when the wear and dust of time had been scrubbed away. The counter began to slowly reveal its original chrome shine beneath her ministrations and as she scrubbed, she risked taking a peek at her companion from the corner of her eye. Cyar was busily rooting through varying spices in a cabinet high overhead and the Irodian couldn’t help pausing for a moment as she stared in wonder at the muscle standing out in sharp relief along Cyar’s lower arms. The pilot was using them alone to hold her whole body aloft and the lean muscle there was as lovely as any Jahari had ever seen.

As the other woman dropped back to the ground though, Jahari snapped her eyes back to her hands and resumed scrubbing furiously as if to make up for the few moments she’d lost while inappropriately ogling her teammate. It was silly to dwell on such things anyway. She’d never been interested in any women up to that point though she’d had a fair few fantasies about her old commanding officer helping her to clean her room and it struck her as a little odd that she had such a fascination for this one. Of course, the fact that Cyar had four arms could only lead Jahari to fantasize…who knows what kind of amazing time she could save while cleaning?? The woman would most likely be a wonder with a broom and could even mop right behind her sweeping so as to maximize effectiveness. Maybe someday she’d ask Cyar to help her clean but that was a commitment that the girl wasn’t sure she was willing to undertake yet.

All thoughts of cleaning fled Jahari’s mind however as she stared openly in fascination at Cyar’s rapidly moving hands while the woman chopped up vegetables. Never in her life had she seen anyone capable of wielding cutlery with such grace and speed and she found herself simply blinking and watching. It wasn’t until Cyar stopped and put the lid on the pot that a very embarrassed Jahari turned back to her cleaning. She hadn’t meant to stare but how often does one get to watch four arms working in perfect tandem to slice up an entire meal in a matter of moments all while managing to look perfectly lovely doing it not that her attractiveness had anything at all to do with the woman’s ability to chop food but it was still worth mentioning. Jahari rinsed out her sponge into the sink and turned toward the table while Cyar rooted about in the fridge. She’d returned the other woman’s smile shyly, uncertain how to react now that she did have a friend. What exactly did friends do? She’d always wanted one but had never managed the feat up to this point and now that she had one she wasn’t sure what to do with her.

Jahari plucked up a small handheld device from the table and fitted her gloved hand into the strap that ran along the back. The item was dome shaped, just about a foot in diameter, with a row of buttons within easy reach on the top and a flat bottom. Jahari used her left hand to pull on a face mask as Cyar sat down with the drinks and she paused when one of them was slid toward her. A break? She couldn’t take a break now, she’d just started. Usually her breaks were every thirty minutes as directed by the cleaning products she used to as to minimize brain damage from the chemicals and allow time for the room to clear out before she started again and she’d only just started on the galley about fifteen minutes ago and was only half way through the counter so she simply wasn’t meant to take a break yet but there was Cyar with that look on her face and that smile that made Jahari have to smile back, not that she minded, and she was stripping off the face mask and nodding even though she wasn’t sure why.

The girl slipped into the seat across from her new friend and pulled the offered bottle toward herself. A wet wipe was in her hand the minute she sat down and she wiped down the lip of the bottle carefully. She did so hate the way the disinfectant would ruin the first few tastes of the drink but she also knew that she’d chosen a non-toxic cleaner for the ones she used on her wipes and a little bad taste was better than getting some disease from the rodents that would surely inhabit the factory where the drinks were bottled. Jahari smiled apologetically before tipping back the drink and chugging half of it down right away. “I usually don’t take breaks so soon,” she said quietly as the drink was finally relinquished back to the table. “I find that five minute breaks every thirty minutes allows me to rest but maximizes my efficiency and is the best cleaning to rest ratio for keeping me on track where I won’t get distracted by anything else while I’m waiting for the room I’m cleaning to clear out and that way I won’t run into the rest of my schedule by accident but I guess that’s not really an issue right now since I don’t really have a schedule anymore.”

Her smile turned a little sad at the thought of having to come up with a whole new schedule when her last one had taken a full week to get right and that meant a lot of midnight cleaning since she hadn’t yet developed a way to force herself to be too tired to fret over anything like she just knew she was going to be doing that night. “What about you? Do you have a schedule?” she asked softly, hoping that the question didn’t sound too awkward. Seeing someone else’s schedule might help her determine what her own should be but she didn’t want Cyar to think that she would have to put up with Jahari following her around all the time even thought was very much likely to happen anyway.

[Dutch]

Cyar tilted her head back as a long swig was taken from her bottled drink. She brought it down and smiled as Jahari drained half her beverage, girl could put down liquid, that was for certain. The Codru-Ji did find it odd how she even wiped off the mouth of the bottle, Jahari was careful, which was a good sign considering she was an explosives expert. If one wasn't as obviously neurotic as Jahari was, Cyar'ika ran the risk of getting blown to bits. Boy was she glad that Jahari didn't have to worry about Cyar messing up anything, one was never blown to pieces by a knife. She smiled as Jahari went off on another rant, girl needed to relax a bit, Cyar could tell that much. It was there watching the Zabrak talk about schedules and cleaning ratios that Cyar'ika decided that in her time working with Jahari, she would help her relax. A soft smile touched Cyar'ika's lips and her head tilted slightly before she spoke.

"No, I don't usually go by any schedule unless on a mission. Way I see it, when working, you gotta be at your best, your fullest attention- no room for mistakes. But I was taught unless you let yourself relax a little, you'll lose it. Life's too short after all, why spend it on edge all the time? At any moment, something could go wrong. I'd like to think that I've lived a good life before that happens."

She held up her lower left hand as she mentioned that something could go wrong. That machine hand that reminded her that at any moment, everything and anything could go wrong. The pressure cooker behind Cyar beeped twice, signaling it was time for a setting switch. She leaned back in the chair and reached her top right hand to twist a nob on the cooker, the reach made her tank lift a little to expose her belly button and the distinctive scar of a bullet wound. Once the cooker was at the right setting Cyar let the chair fall back to all four legs and crossed her own. Cyar'ika pondered a moment as she looked into Jahari's tired, fretted orange eyes. She flashed her white teeth in a smile and leaned forward to rest her chin on her top left hand while it's elbow rested on the table. Cyar's lower arms crossed and her top right gripped the bottle again.

"Tell ya what toots. I give you free reign on the Spectre- full clearance. That'd give you access to the cockpit, engine room, my room, and life support- and you can go nuts and scrub her down to bare metal if it pleases you. But! You gotta promise to let me help you relax a little, your eyes are far too pretty to look that stressed. Deal?"

Cyar'ika raised her eyebrows at Jahari in a questioning tone. She hoped the poor young woman would take her offer, it almost pained Cyar to see such a kind individual in so much distress. Maybe with enough time, Cyar would even get Jahari to clean as it's needed, not as a ritual. Likewise, maybe dark skinned Zabrak would get Cyar to actually tidy up. Her mind drifted to the bathroom where various undergarments were strewn over towels racks and shower doors. Then to her own bedroom, where weapon pieces and articles of clothing were equally strewn everywhere, not to mention the bed that hadn't been made since probably when she inherited the Spectre. Cyar'ika blushed slightly at the thought of Jahari discovering her little messes, and hoped she didn't scare the poor woman away.

[Otterling]

There was something between disappointment and envy in Jahari when Cyar said she didn’t go by any schedules unless on a mission. Most people didn’t really, that much Jahari already knew, but it would have been helpful to have a starting point for when she had to make her own and she knew that she did indeed have to make one, otherwise she’d just keep on fretting about every little thing and it was easier to schedule her fretting so that she fretted over the correct things at the correct time instead of fretting over everything all the time. Jahari nodded sympathetically when Cyar mentioned that anything could go wrong at any time. It was a lesson the young woman knew well, it was part of why she needed that schedule so much, because she had to maintain some small semblance of control over the world around her in the face of all that horrible chaos. As she watched Cyar lift her hand though, she got the point a little more clearly. Something horrible had already happened to her friend and she wondered what exactly had cost the woman her arm.

As Cyar leaned back to flip off the pressure cooker, Jahari noticed the small scar on her friend’s stomach. Someone had hit her with a slugthrower instead of a blaster and it had left its mark. Blasters left long burn scars if their victims ever got a chance to scar in the first place but slug throwers were just brutal and tore a hole right through the victim. It bothered Jahari to see that her friend bore such marks but she knew most Mandalorians had them, it was the price they paid in battles, and it was only because of her careful nature that Jahari didn’t have any to show herself. The only scars her skin bore were self inflicted for the most part except for the very old ones from her young fighting years when she would train outside in the ring with the boys. The rest were a tangle of small thin white lines that marred her knees from the bad chemical burn she’d gotten when she hadn’t properly paid enough attention to the warning label on one cleaner. Otherwise, her need to be clean at all times had kept most of her minor injuries from ever getting infected and scarring up.

"Tell ya what toots. I give you free reign on the Spectre- full clearance. That'd give you access to the cockpit, engine room, my room, and life support- and you can go nuts and scrub her down to bare metal if it pleases you. But! You gotta promise to let me help you relax a little, your eyes are far too pretty to look that stressed. Deal?"

Jahari offered her friend a sad smile as her fingers curled around the glass bottle near her and she began to slowly and methodically peel off the label a millimeter at a time. “If you could fix me,” she said in a small choked sounding whisper, “I’d like that very much. I know I’m not normal, everyone says so.” Her voice turned sad and held all the loneliness of the last years she’d spent away from her family when every one she’d met had shunned her as a freak and tried to stay clear of her. “I just can’t help it. I can’t. I have to do these things, Cyar. I have to. It’s not that I want to, I know that they’re silly and that it makes other people uncomfortable but I can’t stop and I can’t relax and if I don’t it just eats at me and eats at me and I won’t be able to sleep or to think of anything else and I’ll get all twitchy and then I’ll start getting angry and won’t be able to do my job and then people, like you, could get hurt and I couldn’t take that.” As she rambled on, her voice became faster and tighter as if she was winding herself up into a fit of near hysteria but as her voice tapered off, so did the panicked trapped look that had come to her eyes.

“I like puppies,” she said softly, averting her eyes back to her bottle. Puppies were so much easier to think about with their fuzzy little faces and their big eyes. Puppies in small wagons…with flowers.

[Dutch]

Cyar's eyes watched Jahari's fingers as she slowly peeled the label off her drink. Her words were so sad, and her expression heartbreaking. Why would anyone be so judgmental, to make a girl look down on herself so? Before Cyar even thought about it, she leaned forward and her gloved top-left hand wrapped around Jahari's. Her ice-blues peered over the brim of her glasses at the dark skinned woman and raised an eyebrow.

"Jahari, if you were normal, you and I wouldn't be getting along now, trust me. S'far as I'm concerned, there's nothing to fix about you- just fine tune, right?"

She hoped Jahari knew what she meant by that. Just like any machine, people needed to have regular maintenance, not necessarily of their bodies, but of their mind, soul, and emotions. And Cyar'ika could tell Jahari was long overdue. Her hand gently squeezed over Jahari's as she began to rant again, and the Codru-Ji lifted her drink up to drain the rest of it. It was placed back on the table as Cyar stood up and walked around the table.

By the time Jahari had finished speaking, and mentioned something about puppies, Cyar was right behind the Zabrak. She took the opportunity while Jahari seemed to space out at the thought of puppies to place her hands on her dark skin. Her top hands rested on the space between her neck and shoulder, while the other set rested just below her shoulder blades. Using the motions her aunt had taught her long ago, Cyar's fingers began to work Jahari's lithe muscles. Her skin was warm to the touch, and pulled nicely over her toned body, it was very pleasant to the touch, Jahari obviously took good care of her body. After a couple moments of loosening the muscle Cyar leaned close and grinned.

"Y'know Jahari, my species are born as puppies. Something I don't tell everyone, f-y-i."

A light giggle bubbled from Cyar as she continued to massage Jahari's back, but stopped and her eyes got slightly wide. What was she doing? Not only did she just meet Jahari only a few hours earlier, but the poor woman was obviously afraid of germs. And here Cyar'ika was massaging her like she was her lover or something. Her hands quickly lifted from Jahari and the Codru-Ji stepped back and quickly turned away from Jahari, her face bright red and her eyes wide in embarrassment. What the HELL are you thinking Cyar! She thought as she quickly flitted over to the pressure cooker, and made sure to not look Jahari's way until her face felt less hot. She peered back to Jahari, and hoped she didn't look half as embarrassed as she felt.

"Hey, wanna get a couple plates out? Food's almost done."