Private A Different Venue

[Niysha]

The Dancer in Green, Wild Space
Cont: This Venue is Overbooked​

If Niysha had a credit for every time she'd personally piloted In Rhan's beat up old Besaid-class bulk freighter out of a catastrophic fireball, then she would just have the one credit. The impressive explosion that had become of Lrungo the Hutt's private superyacht was still sending debris scattering into a storm of shrapnel just behind the aging cargo truck's powerful Garuda engines, and all that Niysha was strictly required to do was steady the helm so they didn't hit any of the other escape craft or, worse, injure any of slaves they'd liberated who were still shacked up in the cargo hold. Accomodating them would be a task for them to handle after they'd escaped immediate collateral zone.

As would handing over the controls to In, who was still... doing something in the back. Niysha didn't know, and she hadn't asked. Frankly, she was too busy with her own mild inconveniences to make a big fuss about it either way, and handling the Dancer wasn't a huge imposition. It was a slightly greater imposition when she was covered in enough silly string that it might take her days to get it all out of her hair, and slightly more again with two loth-cats climbing her like a tree. Her fancy new suit was absolutely covered in four kinds of cake, and apparently the animals had a bit of a sweet tooth.

None of that was enough to stop the Dancer from making it to hyperspace. As she locked in coordinates and hit the engines, Niysha allowed herself a quiet sigh of relief before she walked back through the ship to check on their new passengers.

Significantly larger than a classic two-man Corellian freighter, the Dancer in Green could easily have held almost two dozen passengers comfortably if it was fitted for it. Since it was fitted for cargo and the thugs who'd stolen it had cleared out most expensive parts of the haul, that'd been a nice excuse to squeeze another half-dozen people in. Neither Niysha nor In had saw need to let any of the newly-freed passengers about the smuggling comparment in the far rear of the cargo bay, hidden snugly behind the maglocked crate that In used as a storage shed.

Up the hatch to the main deck, the ship spontaneously transformed from a long-haul truck into a floating botany bay. The walls from cockpit to engine room were covered in hydroponics pots wherever there was room to stick one. Most terrestrial botanical gardens could sport greater variety, but out here in the black, the Dancer didn't have many peers. It also gave the common area, main deck, mess, and crew quarters all a wonderful, vibrant color palette... or so Niysha had been told.

Nestled along the main deck's sides were auxiliary rooms for engineering, medical, Niysha and In's private quarters, and-

Niysha made a point to seal her private private quarters when she noticed the door was open, locking it tight. Thirty-odd scared people might get a little too curious and the last place she wanted them peeking was into the room where she kept her Very Dangerous Scary Old Rocks. With that taken care of, she made her way to the hatch down into cargo and dropped both loth-cats unceremoniously down the escape. Her careless action immediately earned an unhinged beep of protest from the psychotic mouse droid that was, apparently, trying very hard to make its way up the ladder at that exact moment.

And, with that take care of, it was off to clean up. They'd need to worry about providing their passengers with food, comfort, and hygeine soon, but that was something they could deal with when they'd had a moment to stop being shot at.

In Rhan Vikai Caznä

 

[Vikai Caznä]

Vikai came striding - or more aptly, shambling in the Dancer's Cargo Hold as if she was some sort of decayed ghoul; which, truthfully, she may as well have been one, after what they had been through. Her mask was shattered in half, hair frazzled and ends burnt, her clothing ripped apart, and skin covered in a smattering of ash, soot, and some questionable jelly liquid and mushy bits of cake. With her was a ripped up sack of expensive blasters, bangles of jewelry, expensive tech, and bottles of the finest booze; all of it freshly stolen, of course. It was more bountiful than the intended bounty she came from - though perhaps she may still be able to claim that. What was there to say that her target didn't explode into a thousand little pieces? It was a big pay day for Vikai, which made her inwardly ecstatic and giddy, though her expression outwardly remain as a viper's stoicism as she regarded the saved slaves in passing with muted indifference.

When she reached where Niysha was, her eyes trailed away from the freed slaves and onto the blind Sith. The sack in her hands dropped to the floor with a light thud as her other free hand reached upwards to remove her shattered mask.

Then, she offered a inquiry, a strange one at that. Unexpected. Unbefitting.

"Is killing hundreds worth it, if it means saving a dozen?"

The question hanged for a few seconds in silence, but Vikai abruptly altered both her tone, and the direction of her words - or at least, attempted.

"Pfth. Not like it matters- not to me, at least. I have acquired what I needed. I just need to get all of this pawned off, now. I can upload the coordinates of where I need to be dropped off."

 

[In Rhan]

Wow. What an adventure.

Thrill a minute, with lots of twists and turns. The sort of thing that In would have loved to read about, but hated to be at the center of. Reading such a story would have, undoubtedly, been peak literature.

Especially the part where she'd wound up yet again finding herself wearing a dancing girl outfit, covered head to toe in cake. Strawberry cream, from the tastes of it. In had had just about enough cake to satisfy her for three lifetimes, or just one if she managed to locate Lrongo the Hutt's personal baker. The first thing In had done after The Dancer had made it to safety was hit the refresher - less for a shower, more for a hosing off. Days of travelling on Planet Weasel followed by the desperate chase across space for her ship back only to culminate in a week working as undercover arm candy/cocktail waitress at the galaxy's least stable casino had meant that In arrived home in such a state that she wanted to crawl out of her skin, scuttle under her bed, and die. And she couldn't even do that, because of the stupid mob of poor, unfortunate souls they'd rescued!

So In had allowed herself exactly one five minute shower, trying very hard to ignore the fact that all of her cider was gone and somebody had gone through her clothes and re-arranged them in between the time the ship had been stolen and it'd been reclaimed. At least three flowers had been mangled, too. Exactly one minute to powerblast all of the cake off of her and four to break down a little. She didn't want to stay longer anyway. There was no hot water.

In eventually emerged from her quarters in loose white harem pants and a tank top, toweling her hair off.

"If you're implying we played a part in getting those people killed, you're not allowed to use my shower." In replied flatly, almost sternly. "Like a dozen different parties rigged that place to blow. We saved as many as we could." It was rationale more for herself than anyone else, to quell the burning guilt she felt. They'd saved as many as they could. If only they could have saved more. If only she'd been better.

"Niysha, where are we heading?" In asked, raising her voice to towards the direction of the cockpit. "We got a nice, central location we can drop all these poor people off to, hopefully somewhere with an embassy or something?"

Niysha Vikai Caznä

 

[Niysha]

Both In and Vikai seemed to be more torn up about the whole "a bunch of gangsters, thugs, and generally miserable individuals just got blown up" thing than Niysha was. She could handle In's portion of that particular emotional load - have her go down to the cargo bay, learn names and hear stories - but she had no idea how to handle this new (temporary?) addition to the crew. In general, she'd been a relatively reliable but emotionally turbulent and very loud sort of person. The Dancer was a quiet place; that energy was going to cause some friction.

Leaning against the bulkhead leading from the cockpit to the main deck, Niysha crossed her somewhat cakey arms over her extremely fancy and utterly ruined suit. "We weren't the ones who set baradium charges under the casino floor, we weren't the ones who rewired the fuel computer to ignite the whole rear of the ship, and we weren't the ones using thermal charges to breach the upper VIP lounge." As she listed each catastrophe off, Niysha held up a finger. "Even if we tripped over it, we didn't arrange for a packing crate of commando droids to spill over right next to the auction stage. And we dragged people with us until our cargo hold was full to bursting. We didn't 'kill hundreds' by basically any stretch of the imagination, so I'd say we did a pretty good job."

As always, it lurked in the back of Niysha's mind that, had she needed to kill hundreds to make sure she and In made it off that barge, she wouldn't have lost a wink of sleep over it. Normally it was just In she had to compare her morals against; the fact that there was now a second person on the ship without real Sith training eroding their value for human life was something she'd need to take into account for the rest of their voyage.

Fortunately, there were other things to focus on. Their next stop, for instance. "Right now I've got us charted for the corner of Alliance and Republic territory. The fuel computer still lists Empress Teta, so it'd be as easy as setting a repeat trip to get us there. Nabboo's pretty far away and way too busy. Rodia and Sanza are nearby and both are pretty decently civilized. It won't be hard to find jobs or passage off-world." She shrugged slightly. "Denon might be a good or very bad idea. It's one ecumenopolis I'm not particularly knowledgeable about."

After a moment, Niysha cocked her head to one side and slightly faced towards Vikai. "Of course, if you have a particular destination in mind, that might change the plan."

Vikai Caznä In Rhan

 

[Vikai Caznä]

Vikai's expression altered little, revealing not a touch of what she may or may not have been feeling. Not quite dour and sour, though. It seemed as though she had little emotional investment in her own inquiry, strangely enough - though, who would be invested in the care of knaves, gamblers, and slavers? Vikai certainly wasn't one to care for those ilk of filth. Her arms crossed over her chest loosely, head canting back some as she spoke once more.

"I think you are right. Mostly. Most of them were strife ridden mutts who deserved little more than death, isn't that right?" She paused, as if pondering her own words. In that time her eyes shifting between the pair, sickly yellow on full display. "There was a saying that.. Somebody who trained me used to say, it was 'That the strong decide the fate of the weak'. Isn't that a strange saying? I wonder if that applies here. I wonder if it's murder, if one elects to not help those in need..." And yet, another pause, her eyes wandering off. Vikai seemed surprisingly introspective for what was a raging, seething Sith before. Her words seemed to be more so musings, that trying to press any sort of direct line of thought or belief. A mere idle thought. "- I bet a Jedi would have said we are horrible people. Pfehehh." Though, some habits die hard.

After another passing moment, her focus went back upon Niysha. "Well, isn't that perfect. Sanza is where I have my ship stowed at. My real one. Also where I need to collect my bounty." She glanced downwards to the pile of valuables beside her. "And, a good place to pawn all of this off. Ehhheh... Pay day has come, at last." With a wistful little snicker between amused huffs, Vikai's boot pressed down as she whipped around, moving with a pep in her step towards the room where the shower was. "I am taking a shower. I have earned that much, I think!" She paused half-way though, briefly turning back. "Make sure none of those slaves touch my valuables too - oh, and I forgot. I am Vikai. Nice to meet." And with that, she turned about and strides off. Only the Force knows how long she'll be taking in the shower.

 

[In Rhan]

Everything was going apace, in the best ways that they could be expected to go given the circumstances. They'd reclaimed The Dancer, they'd managed to save as many people as they could, and they were essentially home free. She had her ship, her girl, and no more cake anywhere on her person. She'd probably be able to sleep in her own bed tonight with nary a weasel or a casino chip in sight!

And boy didn't Vikai Caznä just have a way of making her really frakking upset about it. She'd had the tiniest balloon of growing self-worth and comfort, and the roach had just knocked a hole in it.

In waited until Vikai was off in the refresher to angrily light a cigarette and glare uselessly at the wall. "Weird little sleemo." The Pantoran woman complained bleakly at Niysha , trying to keep from using stronger language. "Gonna put her junk in the unused quarters. We probably don't want her sleepin' with the crowd... and she did fight with us." In was angrier about that than she had any right to be, honestly. Mostly at herself. Having a spastic, twitchy saber jocky in your corner was a fine thing in combat, but it was just callous to spurn them the minute the fighting stopped.

In rubbed the bridge of her nose and groaned. "I'll try to not let her get in my head. Thanks for plotting the course, frizz." She murmured, stealing a quick kiss. "I'm gonna go see if we still have that big box of donk packets down in the smuggling hole, probably distribute 'em down in the cargo bay to tide everyone over until we arrive. I'll do the talky-talky, keep everyone calm. You take a few minutes to get settled in? For me?"

 

[Niysha]

Far more tiring than dealing with Sith Lords was dealing with petulant kids who thought they were destined to be Sith Lords one day. Anyone who'd survived the Sith hierarchy for any measure of time more than a year or two learned very quickly that gloating about how EVIL you were and how WEAK and fundamentally deserving of death everyone else was was a very short trip to shock trooper duty. Ominous cackling was reserved for special occasions and tended to make for very poor first impressions.

When Vikai left Niysha with In, the Miraluka gave an awkward smile and a helpless shrug. "Lapdogs yap the loudest, In. I don't know what to tell you." It was absolutely In that would bear the brunt of Vikai's unpleasantness. Niysha was completely inured to it, and the passengers down in the bay were isolated and trying to lick their wounds. In was the only one on the ship who hadn't been a beaten manservant, a psychotic cultist, or both.

Any of her peers would have scorned her for the weakness of a relationship, and failing that, Niysha's refusal to "toughen up" her partner. As per usual, Niysha gave them exactly as much consideration as they deserved.

"Yeah, alright," Niysha replied quietly to In, turning back to the cockpit to put in coordinates for Sanza; it was near enough to Rodia that they could make a pit stop without burning fuel. With that done, she wandered off to her and In's cabin to relieve herself of her utterly ruined fancy white suit and find a towel to wrap in while she waited for Vikai to be done with the refresher. In the space of her own ship, Niysha was - as always - tempted to just pull off her blindfold and walk around with her sockets out. This time, she absolutely curbed that reflex. Chances were, their twitchy, self-important guest would take her appearance as an offense and draw her weapon.

She'd shouted some kind of silly name about it. Destined Death? No, wait... Death's Herald. The Miraluka made a quiet note to herself as she wandered off towards the refresher to never, evre name any of her weapons. Her blaster was a blaster, her lightsaber was a lightsaber... Bogan, her ship only had a name because it needed one for legal reasons. Crypto-materialism was for slugs and cultists.

As Vikai made it out of the shower, Niysha greeted her outside with a silent raise of her chin and politely waited for her to move out of the way. She expressly didn't push past, no matter how much cake and champagne was ruining her hair.

Vikai Caznä In Rhan

 

[Vikai Caznä]

As Niysha awaited near the doorway of the bath, and through the pitter-patter of falling water, she would be able to discern a unusual sort of noise through Vikai's showering. What was that? A beat? A melody? Lyrics and a upbeat tune? Was she singing? She was, and it was a spunky sort of song she was babbling off to herself. Niysha may have heard of it before on the Holonet. A top trending song, too! Her (self)enthralling singing must have been why she took so, so long in the shower. Where In had given herself five minutes, Vikai gave herself a leisurely long ten minutes, bordering on fifteen. Thankfully, after what felt like hours of anguish, Vikai finished up, wiped down her clothing, and got dressed back up.

Click. The door of the bathroom zipped open, letting out a small gush of steam as she stepped out. Her yellow eyes set upon Niysha as she slowly drifted past, eyes following the other Sith. She spoke, brief and quaint, much of her usual dry venom washed away with the filth down the bath's drain. "You have a nice bath. I tried to not use... too much of the soap." She offered with no implicit guilt. She hadn't actually used too much soap. The Force knows why she even brought it up. "... Have a fun shower." She tacted on one last, passing comment as she moved past Niysha and back down into the cargo hold to collect up her spoils. A slick, fangish smile was given off to the other Sith as she drifted back, effortlessly strange and pointlessly 'charming'.

On her way to the cargo hold, she paused in the hallway as her body stiffed up, and eyes closed - which was soon followed by a harsh, raspy exhale as she found a wall nearby to push herself up against. A open palm raised up as her other hand raised to begin clawing at her inner palm, eyes wide like a frightened jack rabbit's. "... Have a /fun shower/? Who says that? Ha-heh... Ehheh-..." Feigned, meekish sniffles of laughter sputtered out from her lips, soon followed by teeth grinding together as her eyes closed once more. "Nooo- that is a normal thing to say. Pfth. Hah-, yeah. I mean, I had a fun shower..." Her head swung back upwards as she twisted her head left and right to assure that nobody was near, and listening in. After a confirming stare, she pushed herself off of the wall and begun back down to the cargo hold.

When back down there, she collected up her goodies, giving them a once over, and then a twice over. Her eyes darted up right after to stare out at the freed slaves. It was clear she was making sure none of them had more sticky hands than her, and tried to slip something from the sack. After confirming everything was there, she turned back to begin back up to the ship's lounge room.

 

[In Rhan]

Strange bedfellows aside, In was the captain of this here floating garden-truck and that meant certain duties. While she could outsource some of them to her First Bedmate, there remained a certain amount of ceremony to the role. Ceremony In hadn't wanted to bother with while she was covered in cake and sweat. Once clean, though, the Pantoran woman made her way up to the cockpit and wiggled down into one of the smuggling compartments, coming up with a big ol' box of 'meat' pies. The sort of shelf-stable treats that could keep a man alive indefinitely while adrift in deep space, provided he had no real need to feed his soul. A multivitamin in a salty pastry shell.

Donk packets: now with meat flavor.

Humble enough rations, but better than literally nothing. Thankfully, The Dancer had massive water reserves to compensate for all the plants. While Vikai showered, In went down to talk to the refugees. To tell them where they were going, (to safety) when they'd get there, (ASAP) and what it'd cost them (nothing, but if you're feeling generous sure). And, of course, to distribute what little food she had.

That'd be a quick priority once they were done here. Stock up on necessities. Go somewhere quiet. Start rebuilding her garden.

In came up into the galley more or less directly behind Vikai. She offered a pair of meat pies to the Sith with a placating smile. "I got one more meat flavor and a classic, if you want 'em." She offered - making an effort to be diplomatic. "You really helped us out back there - feel free to the crew quarters over there if you want a little privacy. I'm not too big to play favorites." The Pantoran chuckled.

Weirdo or no, they wouldn't have made it out without Vikai. The least they could do was give her a bed and a place to use the bathroom without somebody else walking in.

 

[Niysha]

As expected, Niysha felt much better after a shower. Normally she'd prefer the quick, dry version, but she had cake all up in her hair, so it was the doom of a soaked, frizzy mop for her. Being on the ship meant she had access to a few drying tools, which helped... kind of. Regardless, her hair being extremely wet for hours and hours was impossible to avoid. Eventually she gave up on even attempting to dry it out and wandered out to find some clean clothes.

On the ship, she didn't need to pack for business, just comfort... so it was sweatpants and tee-shirts time.

When she was properly adorned and had her comfiest, most water-absorbent blindfold on, Niysha rejoined the other two right as In was showing Vikai to one of the spare rooms and offering her reheated quasi-protein. Without a word, Niysha grabbed one out of In's hand from behind, bumped her hip against the Pantoran's, then flopped back onto a sofa in the lounge.

"We should have enough preserved food - dried fruit and veggies, nutripaste, whatever's left - to last that many refugees probably... a few days? Maybe a week." Without ceremony, the Miraluka ripped open the package and bit off both corners of a donk pocket, letting it vent out the volcanic levels of heat that every one of them inevitably wound up with after just a few seconds in the reheater. "We'll be out of hyperspace in just a couple of hours, so we can probably restock somewhere if we're worried about the people down in the hold."

They'd need more blankets, too. Some entertainment, maybe? They had plenty of screens, but the caro hold could only draw so much power without a mess of cords.

Vikai Caznä | In Rhan

 

[Vikai Caznä]

Vikai was in the process of examining the lounge room when In had snuck (leisurely walked) into the room and right behind her. With a whip of her head, she turned around to face the Pantoran. With a brief flash of abrupt shock that was quickly switched out for a lucid smile, Vikai greeted In in the most middling, mild way she thought of in that split moment, a casual, "Ah, Bantha feed. Better than starving out in this metal husk, heh-eh?" That plastered smile of her's remained for several seconds as her hands reached out to accept the accursed mystery-meat pie.

"Tell me..." She slowly twisted on a heel, stepping away off to the other side of the lounging room as Niysha stepped within, "How did you both lose your ship? Was it a sabacc game gone wrong, mh? And.." She paused for a moment as she peeled away the packaging of the meat pie. "Why did you all try so hard to free those slaves - besides the obvious reasons... Such as it being a good act of kindness. So on. There was a risk of dying." Vikai managed to rip open the packaging, and begun upon the sacred act of feasting upon what she believed to be Bantha feed - which she honestly wasn't entirely against. It wasn't the worse thing she has ate before, and it shall not be the last, either. "Do you all have a Audiobulb, or a way to access the Holonet Radio? This ship needs music." Music was a comfort that Vikai found equal nourishment in when compared to the food she was eating. Who knows why. People always find their comforts in all sorts of things. At least her's wasn't in something weird, like murder.

Sorry for late response. I broke a bone in my left hand's ring finger and it's killing me :sob:

 

[In Rhan]

"Ship got stolen out from underneath us while we were picking up plants on a nowhere planet out past the Tingel arm." In explained, leaning in the doorway. "Place was mostly conifers and weasels. Didn't realize there was a smuggler holdout nearby until they flew off with our ship." In gave a vague glare towards the galley, furrowing her brow. "And drank all my beer." She added glumly. One might've been forgiven for thinking that In was planning revenge on the people who'd taken her ship if they didn't know that she'd just gotten even in a very explosive manner on a crime enterprise that would likely never recover.

"Radio's alright. A bit fritzy since we had an electrical issue in the cargo bay I haven't gotten around to fixing all the damage from." In explained, glancing between the two women who'd both brought up the idea of music. "I could maybe rig something up, given a few minutes. Or we could maybe blast it loud enough through the speakers to be heard down there..." She mused.

In snapped her fingers, eyes lighting up. "I think I have an old guitar somewhere in the smuggling hold." She realized. "If one of you can play something simple, the other can sing something folksy - maybe we could get some good vibes going that way. I can do a little song and dance. It'll work out." If nothing else, there were likely a couple of liberated entertainers down in the cargo hold, though Lrungo wouldn't have employed/enslaved somebody for such a pedestrian instrument as a guitar. "I'll go grab it - you two figure it out!"

In dashed off, a bounce in her step. Leaving two Sith to possibly try and figure out how many folk songs they knew between them.

Niysha | Vikai Caznä

 

[Niysha]

Why free slaves? Ugh. Niysha swallowed her quiet disdain for the painfully egotistical ethics she immediately - and frankly, had always previously - assumed Vikai to hold. Maybe she could help fix her. Of course, she didn't speak until she'd finished a bite of donk pocket.

"Why would we engage in our passions," she questioned in response. "Why would we seek to improve ourselves? Why would we rob a businessman? Why would we throw ourselves against a rancor?" Niysha counted off each line, but her tirade paused for another bite. When she was finished, she continued. "In always does things out of the kindness of her heart. It's very noble. I'm motivated by faith."

Off her partner went, babbling about music and how the three of them surely could create it. Niysha could neither sing nor play, but how hard could it be? When the Pantoran exited, she kept talking. "Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me. Freedom from bondage is a core tenant of the Sith Code. I'd say it's holy to encourage others to break their chains, find their own strength, achieve their own victories." ...Which was a staggeringly uncommon point of view among orthordox Sith, heavily influenced by Niysha's childhood and, by most Sith standards, exceedingly soft spirit.

"A Hutt isn't any stronger than a bureaucrat. They just have fewer predators, which allows them to devour disproportionately large amounts of their own ecosystem. Outer Rim slavery is natural, but the people who perpetuate it are extremely weak. Most aren't much stronger than the lives they control. If they can't protect their right to dominate thirty starving peasants and orphans against one person who can resist, they're no different from an Academy student who runs his mouth off at a Sith Lord."

That... might well have been the most intense Niysha'd verbally gotten for quite a while. And all in the name of a convenient justification to kill slavers.

Vikai Caznä | In Rhan

 

[Vikai Caznä]

Hollowed radiance.

A smile of hollowed radiance. That is what somebody with sharp words would say about Vikai's smile in that moment. What had caught her amusement so? She did not reveal it freely, sadly - though, her next given words did hint further to what the freakish Sith may have been thinking. She spoke while she wandered off to the side to mess about with the nearby Holo-radio, buzzing through different possible tunes, with most of them being subpar at best to Vikai, given how quickly she went through changing them.

"You are meant to only care about your chains." She commented, simply - though she soon went on to muse. How she spoke, it wasn't nearly filled with as much vigor or passion compared to Niysha. Mere thought. "Not as if I care, though. Can you believe people care about such trifling things..." She paused, landing on a acceptable channel frequency. It was a Classic. "... When I was younger, where I was born, in those smoked-filled, filth-stained alleys of my home planet, there was plenty of other kids just like me - downtrodden, kicked in, and starving; for both food, and for more to life. I got lucky. I got born different, and that means I was noticed, by my dead-beat former master." She turned about, facing Niysha once more. "And in the end, what did that do for me? He betrayed me. He taught me such a valuable lesson that day! That one, a code is meaningless, and second, trust in others is pointless. You only have yourself in this world..." Vikai trailed off for a time, eyes wandering away as she stared to the hall that led to the cargo-hold.

"... Isn't that a scary thought, having to rely on others to survive? Pathetic. If you can't help yourself, then you are at the mercy of everything, and everyone. That isn't a way to live life. Life is one big food chain, and if you can't move up it, then you will get eaten..."

Another pause.

Another smile, of hollowed radiance.

"Reality is a nasty business."

So sorry for the wait!!! my finger is better now, and I can actually type properly without pain!

 

[In Rhan]

In returned from the smuggling compartment with a beat up old guitar on her hip. She only caught the tail end of the conversation as she set the guitar on the table between the two Sith.

"... Isn't that a scary thought, having to rely on others to survive? Pathetic. If you can't help yourself, then you are at the mercy of everything, and everyone. That isn't a way to live life. Life is one big food chain, and if you can't move up it, then you will get eaten..."

"What a wildly silly thing to say." In chuckled. "You're reliant on my goodwill to not blow the ship up right now. We're both reliant on the goodwill of whoever made this hyperlane, and the people at Aurora Industries who made the ship. The predator relies on the grass to feed the herbivore that she needs to eat. The whole food chain is one of those tensegrity desk toys where any part knocked out of the thing makes it all fall apart." The Pantoran woman pointed out flatly. "The Nexu is only king of the jungle so long as nitrogen-fixing bacteria in the soil are getting what they need."

The white-haired woman gave the radio a skeptical look. Wasn't this song like a thousand years old? Still, she could move to it. That could be enough. In slid her hands up into the air and wiggled her hips to find the beat, spinning slowly.

Bending at the waist, In greeted her partner with a quick kiss. "Think you can keep rhythm with that thing?" She asked her ever-talented other half with a broad grin. "You don't have to do much. Just not disappoint me or play poorly in front of a room of judgemental people." The Pantoran woman teased smugly.

 

[Niysha]

It was pretty hard to make Niysha angry. Aside from a healthy level of cowardly self-interest, her emotions were laudably stable, for a Sith. In fact, basically the only thing that had reliably managed to get her legitimately piqued was someone physically threatening harm to In. It was absolutely a new experience for her to feel angry while just talking with someone, without any physical harm on the table.

Her brow had distinctly furrowed Vikai had disparaged the Sith Code.

This childish, selfish, fragile, egotistical, weak little dark Jedi liked to tell herself she was something greater. She clung to the title of something that she knew to respect without the knowledge of why it was respected, expecting it to magically grant her that importance by merit of aspiration alone. Untested and unprincipled, ruled by fear and need in equal measure, by raw impulse without the power to control it.

It didn't take Niysha long to realize that she was facing a passing moment of passion that she didn't find useful. This was, as established, an urchin. She hadn't been trained and had no idea what she was talking about. Niysha filed her fury away for later; it'd serve her well the next time In got herself kidnapped by a Herglic mercenary circus who were also on fire.

Speaking of. When In returned, Niysha's expression lightened into a gentler grin. She returned the Pantoran's kiss without missing a beat, then took the instrument her partner had brought with her by the neck. "I think I know a couple of scales," the Miraluka offered quietly. "Never learned any songs, but I can do some basic... one sec..."

Niysha leaned forward on the galley sofa, resting the guitar over her knee and under her arm. It took her a shift or two to get comfortable, but shortly thereafter, she had managed something approaching music.