Deep in the black...

[Galdaart]

He dogged the latch as the door shut, keeping the wind at bay. The sudden opening of the door had sent a few papers flying off their perch, on a nearby table, and one came to rest at Sate's feet. He picked it up, holding it out for Vee. Here, he offered. Stepping closer to take the sheet of paper from him, he caught the look in her eyes. A little nervy. A little uncertain. Maybe a little heartsick? And an underlying sense of calm, which was nice, but the Dust Diver knew better than to chalk that up to his presence. This was home to her, and home, regardless of who she had brought with her, was a place of peace.

He averted his eyes, taking in the structure and the room before him. So... there had been talk of food? Point me in the right direction, Vee. I'll have something ready in no time. He caught sight of a few pictures on the same table that the papers had blown off of, and he couldn't help it. He looked. He knew he had no right, that the images were personal, private, and he hadn't been granted access to that part of her, but there was no avoiding it. She was beautiful, a little younger, but not so much. She looked happy -- something he hadn't seen before. The man she was beside -- he didn't know who it was, but it was clear they bore a connection. They were standing playfully, as if caught in the middle of a great mischief or practical joke, and Sate was ashamed he wanted to know what the joke was. But he didn't ask. You look happy here, he picked up the holo, carefully, as if it were a fragile relic. Who is he?

 

[Vee]

Vee quickly closed the short distance between them to take the paper from Sates hand. Her smile became shyer as she neared. "Thanks." She glanced over the paper to reorient herself as to what it was before setting it back upon the small table. Her throat tightened as she recognized her fathers handwriting. She had never gotten rid of his papers. Sometimes she would look over them, even though the science was above her head. The thought that Ve'en had held and written upon the same paper she had in her hands both grieved and centered her. For some reason, she hadn't filed these papers back from when she was here last.

The redhead turned from the table back to Sate to answer his question about the food and direct him to the pantry and kitchen below, but froze at the question of the holo. She quickly snatched it from his hands, as if afraid he would steal it. "No one." she said quickly on instinct. A panicked expression replaced her smile. For several heartbeats her gaze locked with Sates as she held the holo close to her chest, as if to protect it.

In the awkward moments after, she realized what she had done. Her cheeks flushed as she cleared her throat, replacing the holo on the table, through further away from Sate. "Taung." she said. "His name was Taung." There was a heavy silence, and then, "He was my husband and the Mandalor for a time. Then he died."

She cleared her throat again before pivoting away from him again to hide her pained expression. She didn't cry over Taung anymore...like the deaths of her parents and Todon, it was simply a dull ache of acceptance for something she couldn't change. It stayed with her, but she did her best not to dwell upon their absence. It was strange to bring it up with a working partner, much less someone she barely knew for a day who wasn't Mando'ad and who roped her into almost getting killed. Even if it was her fault.

"You ever been married?" she asked, trying to lighten her voice as she tried to take the focus off herself. She turned back to him, only to brush past him to her bag.

 

[Galdaart]

Taung. Sate promised himself he'd remember the name, even as he moved toward the small kitchen area, puttering around to find this and that, whatever he thought he might need. The spacer didn't know too much about Mandalorians or their culture, but knew that the title Mandalor was a big deal. There was obviously a lot more behind the words, as Vee gave perhaps the briefest description of a life he had ever witnessed. She was in pain, and to talk about this Taung brought on more of it. He didn't want to cause her discomfort or anguish, and so when she deflected, asking him about marriage, he decided it would be best if he gave her a proper story while he worked.

The small bag of perishables brought from the YT1300 yielded little, but between the spices he found in the kitchenette, and a little ingenuity, there'd be a passable meal here. Sate spoke as he squeezed protein paste out on a cutting board, rolling and shaping little balls, seasoning with a bit of this, and that.

Me -- married? No. Never. Not to say there was never someone I cared for. Back on Ord Mantell... there was a girl. Wrena. a wistful smile creases his face She was something, you know? She pushed me. Kicked my ass when I was getting out of line, which was most of the time. Patched me up after some fights, too, though she was no doctor. he chops an onion, dicing it with hands practiced in the art of the blade It was Wrena who wanted offworld. At first. She was too good for 'Mantell. a pause, then he goes back to chopping and mixing, this time adding something like Panko to a bowl, and mixing in some potable water and more seasoning But she convinced me too, y'know? Made me work hard, earn a trade, dared me to dream bigger than that rust-covered scrapyard. Yeah -- I guess I loved her ...Sure did. he rolls the balls of seasoned protein paste in the panko, placing six or seven of them in a pan, and allows them to fry awhile. Moving to a second pot, he squeezes out more protein paste, and goes back to chopping. She brought out the best in me. Called me her biggest vice. I called her my 'conscience.' We were young. I was too caught up in whatever scam was going at the time to really pay it much thought, but I think she wanted us to be more than... you know. another pause She didn't make it, though. Never got offworld. A prized possession brought from Vee's ship, and a rarity in deep space, Sate withdraws a tomato from the bag of provisions, and dices it, adding it to the second pot, along with more seasoning. There is silence a few minutes, as Sate ensures the protein has cooked evenly. After a minute of Sate clanging through cabinets, he produces a couple of plates, and plates the food, whisking the steaming plates over to the nearby table, motioning for Vee to sit. OK. Here we go. Ah... it's mostly protein paste, with more protein paste, but if I've seasoned it correctly, and with the addition of the panko crumbs and that wonderful tomato... it might taste a bit like Scotch meatballs with tomato sauce... if you close your eyes.

He winks, and holds out two forks, in a 'choose your weapon' manner.

 

[Vee]

Sate's sudden change in attitude baffled her. She listened carefully as he spoke, pretending to rummage through her bag. Why was he telling her all this? He had wanted nothing to do with her, then had purposefully put her in danger as a way to avenge himself. Next thing she knew he teasing, playful, was giving her his life story, asking about pictures, then talking about his Wrena as if they were old friends. Vee didn't understand.

The redhead stood, unfolding herself from the floor where she crouched over her bag. Her long legs swiftly brought her to the table. Watching him warily, she carefully took one of the forks from his hand and fell into a chair opposite of him. "Thanks." she said. She none-to-discreetly sniffed the plate. It actually smelled pretty good. "My father had always cooked." Vee said, the words spilling unbidden from her full lips. "My mother had grown up a Coruscanti socialite and had never cooked a day in her life. My father said that she cooked a meal once and it was so horrible, he swore he would always cook from that day on."

She popped one of the protein balls in her mouth with some onion and tomato, chewing experimentally. Hey, not bad...not bad at all. "It's good." she admitted, before slipping another into her mouth. As she chewed, she stared at Sate thoughtfully. "I thought you hated me." she stated bluntly. "Why are you telling me about Wrena and your life?" Another bite as her big blue-green eyes continued to stare at him in assessment. She ate like a field-hand, but her movements betrayed a natural grace. It was an odd combination.