First Encounters (Mima Jeth)

[The White Wolf]

The night was cold this night...full moon shined overhead upon the city. A cold naked eye watching the planet. Cars from distance roads strode back and forth as most citizens where probably getting home to their families. To their loved ones...Turquoise eyes focused on the ground lifted up slightly. A grand staircase leading up to large doors where before the young knight. The wind blew unforgiving chilling the blood that was already cold. Behind those closed doors was something 13 despised. Someone...13 despised. And frankly despite all his raw and utter hatred towards this one being he still could feel no true emotion. 13 did not feel angry but he knew he should have been...he knew he did not like what he was going to do but he had no real feelings about it. No guilt...mercy...or regret. Just a whim drove him forward at this point. For with sacrificing the emotions and ambitions of the heart and mind made it easy. To do the unthinkable...and feel absolutely nothing afterwards.

A breath drew from 13's lips as he thought back. Back when he was a kid. How easy it was for him to get angry and lose control over himself. His mind was like clay back then. Easily formed by whoever wished to sculpt him. But over time that clay simply turned to glass. See through. Although he wanted to know what it was like to truly feel a happy emotion he felt as if he would never get the chance. Even around those he considered close seemed like objects to him. Like if they where to die he would not even flinch...and his former master...13 wanted to care but given the circumstances of his life he just couldn't find the will to care about anything anymore. Now a days everything he did was decided upon his whim...

Pulling a hand out of his pocket 13 began to walk forward. He wore his Black Wanderer outfit. He did not like to look like he belonged to a group or a click...he was there for him. He wanted to be free of authority...yet at the same time he felt he needed it. He did not know how to feel anymore.

Walking up the stairs slowly 13's eyes scanned the corners of the temple...approaching the doors the boy took one hand out of his pocket and pushed it open. His flat hand covered in finger gloves pressed against the door as he slid open. Revealing nothing but a grand corridor with a throne chair in the very back. 13 narrowed his eyes and reached for the back of his shoulder where his lightsaber stayed. Drawing it and walking into the temple, or shrine 13 felt the doors begin to close behind him.

A sadistic chuckle sounded from the other side of the corridor. 13 blinked and walked forward with a rather blank stride. His shoulders slouched and his expression emotionless 13 listened as a mans voice made itself known.

"So your finally here?." The man said amused. 13 blinked and continued to walk forward until he was a fair distance away. The shadows covered his face so only his eyes seemed visible to the man cloaked in a gold garb. The Black Wanderer pulled out a pistol and aimed it at the center of the mans head. The male closed his eyes and opened up his hand revealing a data chip. "Go ahead...take it." He said, holding it out to him in offering...But 13...wanted more. No...he needed more. It was unforgivable what this man did to him right? What he did to everyone in project 0 was unforgivable yet he could night bring himself to pull the trigger. He hesitated...did this make him weak? Of course it did. To everyone else...hesitation was weakness.

Suddenly, a loud bang alerted the young boy and in a instant he was back in reality. Opening his eyes the boy was back on the ship...back in the fringe hanger. Wearing his regular cloths. Lightweight cargo pants with black boots and a black jacket with a fur laced collar. He looked up to see a soldier had dropped a large box full of parts on the ground. Scrambling to pick them up as his fellow soldiers cracked on him. All of them however where smiling...showing the emotions he never could. He put a hand on his face and pulled down trying to remember why he was in the hanger...he recalled he was supposed to be meeting someone. Dranok had wanted him to meet someone. But why couldn't he remember who? 13 leaned up against the wall int he far back of the hanger so he could see all the ships that pulled in. A blank and emotionless look remained tight as his white bangs hung in front of his eyes. His arms where crossed over his chest and his shoulders slouched. One leg parked against the wall behind him and a knee popped out neatly while his other leg was firmly placed on the ground. He wanted to go back to sleep...

@[member="Mima Jeth"]

 

[Mima Jeth]

Perfectly steady hands gripped the controls to a very aerodynamically designed but cheaply made shuttle. Their owner was not distracted by her own reflection in the shoddy material that made up the cockpit windows. All that seemed to go through her mind was that she would rather be racing right now. But at least she had something productive to do today. Still, her mind wandered inevitably toward the memory of her last race while she made her way toward her destination.


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Getting sponsors hadn't been easy, but her weight in the racing fanatic community had managed to grant her enough donation funding to manage the parts she needed. The move from Coruscant could have ended her racing career, but she was too addicted to speed to let that happen. What Mima couldn't afford, she would have to build from scratch. And now, in the hangar, surrounded by other racers' already built and shining racing shuttles, was her menagerie of seemingly misplaced spare parts, each from a different ship make and model. Each from a different corner of the galaxy. Each of them a varying degree of outdated.

Unlike the other pilots, who felt they were above their mechanics, Mima was her own mechanic. And she socialized politely with other mechanics while she worked through the week, toiling long nights and struggling every step of the way, from blueprinting to frame welding. From getting systems online to reinforcing structural integrity. From getting the engines to fire to getting the shuttle off the ground. Nothing felt more rewarding than lining up at the starting point, and blasting past the slow crowd with afterburners to take a lead she would hold for the entire race, weaving through an asteroid field at nearly ten times the approved safe speed to pass everyone made a career of investing in parts that made up for their lack of skill.

She was neck and neck with the pilot who had bought a change of rules to use better attitude thrusters, and he rammed her shuttle repeatedly in an attempt to use his ship's weight to knock her out of the race. But his behavior had become predictable. Mima made a minor tweak to her deflectors, reduced her speed, and sideswiped right into his net attempt to ram her. In the vacuum of space, the tearing of one of the racer's main engines from his ship was silent, but the sight of it wildly zooming around before it impacted on the surface of one of the asteroids filled Mima with a sense of pleasure. While her opponent lost control and went off course, she crossed the finish line and smiled calmly to herself. Winning was it's own reward, but she could use all the money she could earn. Educational degrees in astrometrics wouldn't pay for themselves if she wanted to pilot anything better than a prison barge in the near future.

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Mima raised her feline ears above her head to listen to a control tower supervisor for a moment. She provided confirmation codes, was given permission to land, and did so significantly faster than safety protocols typically allowed. The people she was getting to know were giving her such privileges, after all, and she wasn't going to miss every chance to take advantage of them. Her footsteps were light on the hard, cold floor of the training hangar while she approached her destination. She took long strides to save time, asking only brief questions to a few passing mechanics until she came to a stop in front of a young man who was a couple of years her junior. She removed her flight helmet and set it on top of a workbench, shaking her pale hair away from her face so her sky blue eyes could focus on him. "Hey there. I'm Stardasher. Sorry I'm early. Blame my aggressive driving habits."

@[member="Subject 13"]

 

[The White Wolf]

Time. The line of everlasting existence through events and history? Or what it something more? Fact was time was not something that could truthfully be explained by mortals or even by gods. It was infinite. Just like the mysteries it holds deep within its roots. Many thought of time as a way to recognize the present…but no. Others believed it to be so much more.


A force beyond comprehension doing its work unintentionally and perfectly all at once. The stubborn existence of organization that held the past within a seal. The bringer of the future and the giver of the present. Some believed time to be a god all itself, invisible to the naked eye and unheard through religion. It very well could have been. When phrases are shouted out like ‘we are out of time!’ or ‘Times up.’ To some they are just phrases, to others they are tribute to the all mighty god of time. Whoever it may be weather it was real or not. Or perhaps…for something to be real one must simply believe it to be real? Faith was a powerful substance in many worlds throughout time.

Consisting side by side with time was the gift of memories. A function of history stored within the subconscious of ones mine throughout the period of their lives. Of course…there were always memories better left forgotten. Despite the fact memories would always eventually be forgotten in the downward spiral called time. The memories of the past, of those before us. Never told from the beholder but often from the witness.

Stories and legends passed down generation to generation but with each generation only losing more and more of the truth as the line between reality and fantasy grows ever so thinner. It was the same with the beings that traveled the galaxy. Over time ones blood does not strengthen. It weakens. If one where to make a copy, of a copy, of a copy it would not come out stronger. But weaker. This has always been true. The memories that held the truth where lost…forgotten In time.

13 wondered...very often what would become of him. Would be become some kind of icon that would forever go down in history? Or just another soul lost to the fray of everyday life? It was so easy to stand out but still blend in. So easy to become something big yet be forgotten. Life is as beautiful as as it is ugly...the young man closed his eyes and sighed. Opening them again when a ship suddenly came speeding into the hangar. His expression did not so much as twitch as he watched blankly. A women walked out of the ship with a helmet on and strolled around. As if she where looking for something. 13 looked her up and down as she walked around. She seemed to be rather small...and wear skimpy clothing. Then again he did not really care. When the women walked up to him and greeted herself as stardasher after putting away her headgear 13 remained silent as he looked through her with a blank face. Not saying anything he allowed his gaze to move to the side away from her as he took a moment to reply. "My name...is 13." He said briefly and straight forward. His turquoise blue eyes steady on the things to the side of him as he remained propped against the wall.

@[member="Mima Jeth"]

 

[Mima Jeth]

It seemed that every moment Mima spent meeting other force sensitive people made her more and more interested in meeting them and spending time with them. In her experience, non-force-users seemed linear and predictable. But this young man named "13" was an enigma, and she could sense that he was more of a mystery than he even let on. She didn't stare at him rudely, but made eye contact instead. Like herself, he was a being of mixed blood. She noted a few Echani features with her peripheral vision, and that he wasn't a being who was interested in expressing emotions or sharing many words. But she smiled all the same, her tail swaying gently behind her. She figured that her body language could tell "13" that she was glad to meet him just as well as words could.

Her eyes then wandered to the bulky objects "13" started looking at, and her own eyes lit up with mischievous intent. "Oh... combat flight simulators? I've been meaning to get my hands on one of those." She didn't even stop to ask for instructions, and hit a sequence of buttons to cause an error in the security panel since she didn't have a password of her own yet. She then opened the hatch to one of the simulators and gestured politely, inviting the young man she just met inside. "There's room for two, and I could use a gunner. This could be fun." And then she stepped the rest of the way inside with a hungry look in her eyes. She seemed to love flying more than walking, even if it was simulated.

@[member="Subject 13"]

 

[The White Wolf]

The young man noticed she continued to look at him with a sense of curiosity. She made eye contact with him and his canine ears perked forward as his two tails flicked impatiently behind him when he saw her tail sway. Unfortunately, even though 13 could not feel emotion his body reacted more than his heart. It was strange, he did not have to feel angry or threatened for his tail to rise up and his hackles to rise. It was just that instinctive thing that happened belong hid control. His bright eyes slanted to meet hers. His pupils turned to slits as they made eye contact for a brief moment until she suddenly followed his gaze to a combat simulator. Suddenly his attention was redirected to the vehicle that was designed to simulate flight. His ears lay flat atop his head while his expression remained cold when she began to mention how she had been wanting one. 13 had no clue how to fly...he relied on soldiers of others to get him in and out of situations. This limited his ability to go many places he wanted too go.

The women walked over to the device and typed in a code that was denied with a loud sound. Regardless she opened the hatch and invited 13 to join her. He looked at her and blinked before looking away and staring ahead. He truthfully did not know how to fire guns either...at least the ones on that. He did not wish to get into a simulation with this women. He placed the back of his head on the wall and breathed slowly. Not answering the women. He knew Dranok told him to get to know her...but he did not want to get close. To her or anyone else.

@[member="Mima Jeth"]

 

[Mima Jeth]

Inside the cockpit, a young feline casually used eight years of college experience with security and enforcement as a major to compromise every single security system locking her out of the simulation. She reminded herself to talk to some one later about security loopholes in this hangar. Every exploit she used was common enough to raise concern, but then, people would more likely try to steal a ship and not think to steal some training sessions for it first. The simulated displays flickered to life, and it was as if she was in a real ship. She tested environmental controls for a moment, until the interior was just cool enough for her liking.

There came a moment when Mima realized that "13" not only didn't want to feel anything or talk to her, but he didn't even want to do anything except lounge around and look... well, he didn't seem miserable. He seemed to have a stoic look about him. She used this opportunity to pull out an electronic cigarette and take a few puffs of water vapor laced with nicotine and menthol. She had incidentally picked up the habit in police academy a few months ago, but switched to electronic cigarettes because she was tired of cleaning cockpits. "If we go through the simulation, we can at least tell Dranok that we did something together! And maybe I can teach you a little something about flying!"

Mima tried not to sound like she was scolding "13." After all, he probably had good reason to act the way he did. But she honestly wanted to spend a little time with him, and he honestly didn't want to spend time with her. Something told her that there were some things he didn't want her to know about him, but that was fine by her. She probably didn't want to know about them, either. All that mattered was that she could get along with him and share knowledge with him. If neither of them learned something from the encounter, than this time Dranok had them spend together was wasted.

"13" was nowhere to be seen, so Mima raised her legs to cross them and rest them on the inactive flight control panel. She continued indulging in her electronic cigarette to pass the time, and honestly didn't expect her new acquaintance to comply. The only negative emotion bothering her about the exchange was a mild concern for the young man being too antisocial for his own good. But then, it had to be his choice to socialize.

@[member="Subject 13"]

 

[The White Wolf]

13's eyes slanted over to Mima as she climbed into the cockpit and began fiddling with the controls as if they where droids. She did not seem to mind him and his strangeness and she did not do what Dranok did and question why he was the way he was. This made 13 feel strange considering someone always had something smart to say about the way he acted. Either he was a mindless zombie or a monster incapable of human emotion. Frankly in a weird way he appreciated her not pressing on and asking questions he was not going to answer. There was a reason he was chosen to be in the fringe council to represent the knights. Because of his emotionless attitude he was perfect for never letting his personal feelings get in the way simply because he had none. He did not have feelings...and he was content with that.

13 sighed as his eyes moved down as did his head when she spoke to him again. Making him look as if he where sad or upset. He was a lone wolf...he always had been. Everything about him screamed loneliness and just by looking him in the face someone could tell he had never had anyone to spend time with or talk to about his problems. The only people so said they cared about him abandoned him...leaving him in the cold so his heart could freeze. And to this day it was still frozen. And the scary thing was...he couldn't even hear his own heartbeat. Because of all these conflicting emotions he simply dis guarded them. Shutting himself off from everyone and anyone just because he did not want to be close to anything anymore. He did not have to trust anyone else...and they did not have to trust him. This kept his life nice and simple. Sometimes... he wondered if it was just the face he never had parents that made his act this way.

He would always see women with their children walking around protecting their offspring as if they where treasure. Nurturing them...loving them. 13 wanted that. In his frozen heart that's all he ever wanted. Was someone to love him like a mother would. Or maybe a sibling? A big brother perhaps? Siblings did the same thing right? Even though they share the same mother sometimes brothers even have even more of a bond. A few soldiers in this very room where brothers. Always displaying affection by putting each other in headlocks and smiling, making jokes and challenging each other as rivals but still always having that bond. Protecting each other...watching each others back. No matter what. The envy 13 felt as he thought about these things put such a toll on his mind since his heart could no longer comprehend these emotions. He wanted that bond more than anything but he could never admit it. He wanted love. Someone to love him, someone he could tell all of his secrets too. But no. He was alone. Always alone and broken.

He remembered the bullies who only amplified this pain...he held as many physical scars as he did emotional but the emotional scars never healed...He knew for a fact he was not the only one who grew up this way. He couldn't have been...because he see it every day. Every fearsome, loathsome day. Constantly surrounded by those who say that rhyme about sticks and stones. The rhyme then seemed to imply that words did no harm. As if broken bones hurt more than the words spoken to them. And many words were spoken to them yes...many words indeed. And every word was like a shard of glass piercing the soft flesh of of their hearts. So they grew up believing no one would ever love with them because their hearts become nasty and prickly like the spines of a porcupine. That they'd be lonely forever, that they'd never meet someone to make us feel like love was something that was solely created for us in their hearts of beauty and compassion... So broken heart strings bled the blues as they tried to empty themselves so they would feel nothing. So don’t say that hurts less than a broken bone. That an ingrown life is something that can simply be cut away with the blade of ignoring.

And then...tears began to stream down his cheeks with a still expression covering his facial. His breathing was not off, his eyes did not change. His chest did not heave. Yet tears fell as if they where waterfalls. 13 tightened his grip around his arms and clenched his teeth. He hated when he cried for no reason...it made him look weak and he did not want to look any weaker than what he did. He hoped @[member="Mima Jeth"] would not notice...and if she did...well. Who cared if she did? She would not care about a stranger...no one ever cared. And those who pretended too. Where only liars. She told him that they could at least tell Dranok they did something together. And she could teach him something about flying. But at this point he was just trying to make her dislike him, and leave like everyone else. And with him crying it seemed harder to do.

 

[Mima Jeth]

The time Stardasher had to dwell on her own emotions crawled slowly by. She remembered the many times her classmates in school picked on her for being so much younger and smaller than them. And the few fellow Arkanians who were many grades ahead like she was picked on her for her feline features, treating her as if she were some sort of house cat. She had tried dating in college, only to be tormented for her unique gender when she was discovered. She could only imagine how much crueler "13's" life had been if he simply didn't wish to feel or socialize at all.

It seemed unfair that the few people who were truly excellent were endlessly hounded by the majority of people in the world who were mediocre. That the intellectually weak would subconsciously, day after day, let their jealousy and hate cause the intellectually strong depression. Stardasher's few friends she had as she grew up became worse with time, introverting themselves and dwelling on their pain until they each attempted to commit suicide. She somehow held out on her own, criticizing her friends because they, unlike herself, had siblings to lean on. A mother to hug, who could make everything better.

She was strong and independent, and she deduced logically that enduring emotional hardships had only made her stronger. Perhaps that was why people were made to suffer. But then, they were also made to experience and share joy. Such a sensation seemed difficult to a woman who felt alone even when surrounded by people. No one was left who had truly, deeply cared about her. And she had only gotten to know one such person, her father, briefly before his natural demise to very old age. The rest of her family on both sides had disowned her before she was even born. Again she wondered... could "13" have things even worse than her?

Her footsteps while she left the simulator were as quiet and graceful as a cat's. She could see "13" was crying, but did not stare at him. Instead, she put away her electronic cigarette and sat wordlessly next to him to gaze out at the stars through the invisible docking barrier. If she could not bond with him using words, she could at least provide her presence and make it known that she didn't judge him. After all, she had plenty of weaknesses of her own. It was more productive to criticize herself instead of others. She raised a hand, tempted to touch "13's" shoulder, but chose not to and cancelled the action, bringing her hand down to rest it on the floor instead. Perhaps a few words wouldn't hurt after all. "Did you know that we've only charted a small portion of this galaxy? Makes me wonder what else is out there... waiting to be discovered."

@[member="Subject 13"]

 

[The White Wolf]

13 took steady breaths as tears dripped from his cheeks before opening his eyes and letting his gaze slant over to @[member="Mima Jeth"] who had stepped out of the simulator and over to him. His canine ears swiveled atop his head ad she suddenly began to talk about what the rest of the glaxy held. He...never really thought about it. He never really wanted to think about it. It was probably nothing new. Most likely the same thing they have seen before. 13 just had no faith in anything anymore and his life had become grey. He did not have dreams like Mima probably did.

It was never unusual for a child to dream of greatness. For the weak to dream of being strong. For the lonely to dream of companionship. For the lost to dream of being found. But what are dreams? A series of thoughts, images, and sensations within the subconscious of the mind. Or a cherished aspiration of ideal of something? These are thoughts that constantly haunted the young knights mind day in and day out as did the merciless memories. Spiraling through his brain like water down a drain. 13 looked down and sighed. Sliding his back along the wall so he could sit 13 had one leg all the way erect and the other leg tucked in so his knee met his chest. looking at Mima as he replied. "I don't know...its probably the same thing we all have seen before. I don't care anymore." He told her clearly as he cried still. Although his expression and voice made it seem as if he where not.