Mission At The Refueling Station

[Isar]

The Dzu settled down onto the hangar bay of a lonely asteroid station, one of the only available sites for refueling and repairs for what felt like an endless expanse of empty space. Dal strode down the hangar and stretched taking in a big breath of air, then gagging almost immediately. He had though the air scrubbers on the Dzu were bad, but these had some awful smell. Thankfully the stench of ship fuel was nearly overpowering in the hangar.

There was hardly anything in this station. Just the repair and refuel port, then what looked like a convenience store peeking out from the second floor over the hangar.

"Going to go get a snack," Dal said as the others emerged from the ship's ramp.

 

[Artas Tel Alam]

REFUELING STATION
SOME LANDING PAD

Artas planted his hands on his hips and inhaled. Deeply. Decisively. Loudly. The stench of this place is horrendous - filth intermingled with fuel. It was absolutely miserable. And he relished it. Artas Tel Alam never flinched from adversity. He welcomed it like an old friend - the whetstone against which he would inevitably be perfected.​

​

Even if adversity was only a case of faulty air scrubbers. He would have preferred a horde of Ashlan Crusaders, but alas.​

​

Maybe some other time.​

​

"Your lungs are weak, Dal," Artas flatly observed over the hacking, gagging of his compatriot, "Spice will do that."​

​

Spice probably had nothing or very little to do with it. Artas was not a doctor. The fact of the matter was that Dal Tel Alam was physically a "weenie" and Dal Tel Alam also did copious amounts of spice. Artas could only conclude the two were related.​

​

He pressed a credit chip into Dal's chest.​

​

"Get me a smoothie. I will watch the ship."​

 

[Iren Tel Alam]

Isar | Artas Tel Alam | Qora Tel Alam | Moksh Tel Alam | Venyxa Tel Alam

---

"It isn't advisable to breathe the fumes in so deeply, brother." Iren muttered as he descended down the ramp with his nose stuck in his datapad. "Powerful you may be, but your lungs are quite organic in nature. I'd prefer not having to do a transplant this side of the decade."

After this healthy nugget of medical information was dispensed Iren followed after Dal to the convenience store.

He wasn't particularly peckish or anything.

Mostly?

Just bored.

It would be nice to see if his experiments were bearing fruit. Iren had stepped away from the Mon Calamari experiments. They had no secrets left to explore any longer. The fact that the last one expired and he didn't have any spares? That had nothing to do with anything. Either way, he had acquired a few lizards during their travels and decided to use some of his earlier samples.

The result?

A little chameleon currently playfully trundling from one end of his shoulders to the other. As it trundled its color shifted, glittering in the fumes of the starport.

"What kind of snack are you thinking of getting yourself, Dal?" He asked thoughtfully as they entered the store. "Perhaps I should get some chips."

The chameleon whined.

"Yes, yes, I will ask the attendant if they sell any flies, don't worry."

It chirped happily in response.

 

[Venyxa Tel Alam]

Venyxa had been silent throughout. Anyone would think she wasn't listening, and they would be right. She had a list of supplies, critical to the success of their mission, in her head, and this was exactly the kind of establishment that would have them. She shouldered between her brothers Iren Tel Alam and Isar as the three entered the shop. A pleasant ba-DING! announced their entry and the sentient that was manning the station gave a half-hearted greeting without looking up from its datapad.

She snagged a handbasket that had seen better days from a battered metal stand, its plastic handles chipped away and labeled with a name that did not match the one on the sign outdoors.

Venyxa made a bee-line for the snacks aisle. All manner of sweets and snacks delighted her view. Little cakes, some stuffed with some kind of filling, some with chocolate or other toppings, some both, went into her handcart. She was tempted to run down the corridor with her hand out, sweeping everything into the handcart, but that would be ineffectual. Instead, she simply picked one of everything, until the handcart was mounded with enough junk food to give a Hutt diabetes.

She went back to the door for another handcart.

This handcart she filled with crisps and puffs and jerky and nuts.

All in all it took two trips to the checkout: one with both baskets piled high, the other with an armful and a half of carbonated beverages, caffeinated beverages, and other beverages.

"And a large slurpee," said Venyxa pleasantly as the sentient behind the counter surveyed her purchase with alarm. "And -- one of those -- pizzas." She pointed at the greasy concoction slowly rotating under a heatlamp.

"A slice of pizza?" asked the cashier.

Venyxa's eyes narrowed slightly. "All of it. Please."

Isar | Iren Tel Alam | Qora Tel Alam | Artas Tel Alam | Moksh Tel Alam​

 

[Qora Tel Alam]

Qora stepped out beside Artas, holding in her hands what appeared to be a bundle of wires wrapped around a half-chewed processor. If that's what one were to guess what it was, they'd be correct.

"Our stowaway is not a fan of galactic parlance," she observed as she turned the useless piece from their communication hub about and sighed despondently. Normally she could fix such things, but she hadn't the materials needed to craft tech ad-lib. "I'm going to have to replace it. There should be a mechanic supply here... Moksh, were you planning to join the others?" A glance around. "Moksh, are you still here?"

"Where is that man?" A glance up at Artas, a sigh, Qora leaned up on her tip-toes to plant a peck of a kiss on the Sith's cheek, "Don't leave without me, luv."

Much as she disliked lone ventures, she'd much rather the others enjoyed their jaunt to the store and got all that their empty bellies desired. Especially Ven. Nobody liked a hangry Ven.

 

[Moksh Tel Alam]

xxx

 

[Moksh Tel Alam]

♫ D1@n--dr@...Callll some-one you love toniiiiiight...♫ ​

The jingle lilted through the metallic halls of what was quickly becoming an empty spacecraft. Moksh sat alone in the common area, perched at the edge of what was being considered an ottoman – a small portable radio receiver in his hands.

He stared at it as he listened as if there was something to see.

"Good evening, Quandrant Six-Seventyyyyy It's just about that time on this Ladie's Night –"

It wasn't the first time Moksh had encountered the show; as an adherent to the Church of Ashla, the broadcast grew to additional wavelengths as one moved deeper into Crusader space.

It was the familiarity that kept Moksh on the station. A life of constant transition, there was a pang of desire for stability – even if he could not recognize it enough to even begin to articulate his feelings with words.

"I'm D1@ndr@, you found Lover's Lane -- a nice warm, safe place to be on a Winter's night-"

She went off the cuff a lot, trying to be overly flowery, but ultimately falling on lopsided cliches. It often left her sentences ending in ways that felt tediously repetitive. Her second sentence concluding with "night."

"I'm gonna be here with love songs and listener stories, a special guest, and so much more to warm your soul and feed your heart like a hot bowl of nerf stew on a cold, Winter's night."

Third. Fortunately, she was charismatic and empathetic; matronly and open – key reasons her show had persisted for more than a decade in this sector.

"Let's kick things off by picking up the hololines right now—"

She would never want for callers.

"Welcome aboard – Who do our Lover's Lane Listeners have the pleasure of listening to only this quiet night?"

Fourth.

"Hi, my name is Katie – How are you?"​

Katie's voice was high and had a child-like quality, be it naivete or innocence. A Disney adult in a Universe owned by Disney.

"Katie, I am incredible – What can I do for you tonight?"

"Oh Ashla, I am so excited to talk to you!" She seemed nervous.
"Ummm…I'm twenty years old, and I wanted you to play a song for my boyfriend tonight"​

"Who's your honey!?"

"His name is Jordan –"​

"Jordan and Katie!"

"Jordan and Katie, hehehe," Katie giggled awkwardly.
"We've been dating for…uh…2 years, and he's just really special to me…and sometimes, I don't feel like I let him know that."​

Moksh was transfixed. He had not initially heard Qora's question about his plans to join the others.

"So…," D1@ndr@ began, piercing the veil of illusion to truly connect with her listener (as she so often did), "…you sound like the kind of person whose socks always match up in your sock drawer –"

"Hahaha – Oh, Ashla – They do"​

Moksh dreamed that he could be the type of person to always have his sock match-up in his sock drawer.

Meanwhile, Qora wondered aloud if he were even still present.

"Hahaha," Moksh repeated, looking for Qora with his head and eyes, but not his body. Affect flat, totally human. Not weird at all.

"Uh huh – You're the kind of person who always knows where the lids to your VacuSeal containers are."

So many different, important things a person could be.

"Hahahah – I try!"​

Oh, to be one -- but which? The lidded or the lidless?

"I'm convinced there are only two kinds of people in the world – Those of us who lose lids – and those people who get REAAAAALY upset when they go missing."

"Yeah, it can be grounds for war, I agree -Hahahaha"​

Could you imagine?

"Mhmm, mhmm. Well, you're just cute as a bug. Lemme find the PERFECT song for you to help you say all those things you just want to say."

"Thank you so much, D1@ndr@ – I'm so excited you picked up"​

D1@ndr@ faded underneath a piano; synth tones.

♫If you need a friend – Don't look to a strang-ger; You know in the end – I'll always be there♫​

♫[And when you're in DOUBT – and when you're in dannnn-ger. Take a look all around – and I'll be there♫


"Qora definitely knows where her lids are," Moksh murmured into an empty room.

But it went buried under the chorus.

 

[Isar]

“I don’t quite know yet, brother-man.”

Dal frowned as he saw Nyx scooping up entire armfuls of processed sweets and heading toward the register.

“Probably just a drink. I’m running low.”

He opened the doors to the refrigerated section and picked up a thirty pack of Corellian “jet fuel” and then spotted a huge thermos of Coruscanti white, which he grabbed as well. On his way toward the register he saw a bottle of brandy.

Fuck it.

He grabbed that too.

 

[Artas Tel Alam]

Qora Tel Alam | Venyxa Tel Alam | Isar | Iren Tel Alam | Moksh Tel Alam

Dal stalks off without so much as an acknowledgement of his marching orders. Perhaps spice had ruined his ears, too. Artas frowns after him as he vanishes into the store after Venyxa. Between the two of them, the Gûdjoti would likely have to pawn the ship to cover their tab.​

​

Whatever! Qora is here now! Artas Tel Alam has a reputation to maintain, so he does not grin like a stupid dog when she kisses his cheek, even if he wants to. He only emanates glee into the Force and snakes an arm around Qora's waist.​

​

"I'm not going anywhere," he says, and he leans in as if conspiratorially, "Unless you want Moksh to watch the ship instead."​

​

Moksh was present inside the ship, but he was not "present" inside the ship, so to speak. Artas sometimes doubts he was present anywhere. It worries him that a man could obtain such a temporally uncertain state without the use of drugs.​

 

[Qora Tel Alam]

A soft gasp sounded from the Tel Alam upon being ensnared by the cheeky Sith. Qora made no effort to hide the wry smirk, willowy form bending easily into the man when he leaned in, "Artas..." she cooed, "it has been too long since we've taken a horrible stroll through a dilapidated, backwater refuel station."

A decade perhaps. She sighed wistfully.

"Do you remember our first outing together?"

Qora was certain it had been much more disgusting than this place. There had been a space slug, for starters, and they had been rivals. Honestly, how could you top that? Now look at them ... sweet Sithy serendipity.

 

[Iren Tel Alam]

Isar | Artas Tel Alam | Qora Tel Alam | Moksh Tel Alam | Venyxa Tel Alam

---

Venyxa seemed entirely set on buying the contents of the entire store.

If Artas was here, he'd have pointed out that they probably didn't have the budget for this, but sadly the two most responsible creatures of the family were too busy romancing one another to be here and put a stop to it. It was certainly possible for Iren to point it out in their stead. There was one little problem with this however.

He was currently in a deep argument with the security guard.

It had started off quite benignly.

"Sir, you can't bring animals into the store."

Iren responded to this quite good naturedly by pointing out the rats didn't seem to be doing that badly. Instead of laughing at his attempt at humor the guard seemed to take this personally. Why? It boggled the mind, unless the guard doubled as the cleaner after the former shift was over, which seemed far too efficient for a place like this.

"Sir, I told you, take the pet out or I will-"

This is where the guard lost Iren.

The doctor did not do very well with threats sadly. It was just... frankly? Impolite. Which Iren had a big problem with. He casually lifted his hand and an invisible Force seized the guard around his frame, lifting him up in the air.

"It's always odd to me when little whiny cretins like you puff your chest up to people who obviously are a much bigger threat than them." Iren said casually as he put the chameleon on the struggling man's shoulder and went on with his business. The alarmed shouts of the guard however? They were drawing the attention of the cashier Venyxa was currently busing with.

"It's like your are so used pushing your weight around you forget you don't really amount to much in the real world."

 

[Venyxa Tel Alam]

Venyxa glanced to one side as the cashier boxed up her pizza. The gooey, greasy treat was so close she could almost taste it, but there was Iren Tel Alam , possibly threatening the security guard with violence. If the alchemist got between her and the pizza -- and the Slurpees and maybe a SnoCone -- she was going to teach him new meanings of the word "pain". She just needed a few more minutes and then Iren could paint the walls with these people. Otherwise she would paint the walls with him.

Boy, did Venyxa get violent when she got hungry. And she was hungry.

A few minutes later, she was halfway through a disgustingly sweet bar of chocolate that was stuffed with some kind of caramelly, nougaty, nutty concoction that did very little to sate her hunger but certainly spiked her blood sugar and made her slightly less cranky.

She finished the chocolate bar, tossed the wrapper in the bin, and then, laden with several bags of food, she went over to Isar . "Find something you like?" she asked. "You might want to wrap it up before Iren gets us kicked out of here. And put on a most wanted list, depending on what he does to that security guard."

 

[Isar]

“Iren, you albino freakshow, what the hell-“

Dal stood in the aisle, arms full of liquor, staring aghast as his compatriot seemed on the verge of executing a refueling station security guard.

He looked at Venyxa, but she seemed to care little one way or the other.

Should I care?

A flicker of movement caught Dal’s eye and he turned to stare down the barrel of a ACP scatter gun wielded by the cashier.

Ah, escalation.

 

[Artas Tel Alam]

Qora Tel Alam | Venyxa Tel Alam | Isar | Iren Tel Alam | Moksh Tel Alam

Artas Tel Alam worked his jaw thoughtfully. Horrible strolls and backwater stations, like this one. It called to mind unpleasant memories. Just because he comported himself with more stoic resilience than his peers did not necessarily mean he enjoyed any of this - or those stations., either​

​

He watches the door to the convenience store. There is a faint twitch in the Force, suggesting rising tensions, but he assumes Iren is just making the clerk uncomfortable by parading around some pocket-sized monstrosity.​

​

"I recall you tried to kill me," he eventually replies, "Dishonorably, too. And I was sick for a week. That wasn't very nice of you."​

 

[Venyxa Tel Alam]

"It's like you chuttas don't even understand how delicate some of these things are," Venyxa complained when, thanks to her proximity to Isar , she found herself on the business end of a scattergun, too. "You think a dehydrated potato flash-fried to within an inch of its life can just -- stay that way -- even when jostled about in a bag full of them? Or take the Hothy Roll. Sweet, delicate chocolate cake rolled into an unnatural shape -- that doesn't just happen and if you fuck around with it it's going to fall apart. And you know what I'm going to do to you if it falls apart, Dal? Oh, even spice won't be able to help with the pain, you utter malcontent."

The cashier followed all this and then gestured with his shotgun. "You can go," he said. "You at least paid."

Venyxa smiled broadly, her teeth vivid white against purple cheeks. "You're a sweetheart. Here, have a Choconut Surprise, on me."

She lifted a bag, tugged the obscenely bright little metallic foil package from the bag with her teeth, then leaned close and allowed it to drop into his breast pocket, giving his chin a nuzzle with her forehead for good measure. If Dal had two brain cells left unaddled by his spice habit, he'd use the distraction to his advantage.

And Force only knew what Iren Tel Alam was going to do.

Qora Tel Alam | Artas Tel Alam | Moksh Tel Alam | Isar | Iren Tel Alam​