Private I Roved Out: Ch 3 - What We've Become

[Loxa Visl]

She followed and was quiet in her observation of the ship. Loxa had never known luxury ... at least, not the sort that the creme de la crop of the galaxy would know. Luxury was a roof over her head, fresh kill on the spit over the fire, a warm pelted bed or hammock, the songs of her sisters, and the spare time and safety to enjoy it all. His ship lacked ... most of those things, but the witch wasn't about to turn her nose up at a free ride.

She also had no idea what five-star treatment meant. It sounded bright and probably quite hot.

At the comment on her weight, she paused to look down at herself, arms splayed slightly, <<This One will do her part ... but what does work have to do with This One's weight?>>

At least she was self-aware enough to know that she was a bit on the lean side.

<<It is not very much.>>

 

[Khaleel Malvern]

Loxa Visl

A snort.

"It's an expression, lady." He glanced over his shoulder for a moment before shrugging and punched the entry button. By command the ramp began its descend to allow them entry into the bowels of the starship. "Guess it dun' translate well in Dathomiri..."

"Basically means ya gotta work jus' as hard as ya presence be weighing on me."

And then twice that since as she said... she didn't weigh much to begin with.

The lights came on as Khal stepped in. The hangar was small, but well-stocked. Fuel on one side, ammo on the other and the space separated by a disassembled speeder. "Engine room downstairs." Pointing towards a hole in the wall that crept downwards into the shadows. Without saying more he went through the main slide doors as they hissed open for him.

"Left's the kitchen. Upstairs the refresher. I dun' got a spare room for ya, but ya can pick a corner and make it comfortable for yarself."

Then coming to a pause at the far-end of the ship with the pilot nest.

"Questions?"

 

[Loxa Visl]

<<A witch is a woman of work,>> she remarked as she followed him in, tracing her gaze after his gestures. It was a small ship, but already she could tell that it was well-lived. There did not seem to be any lack of use of space. It would be a challenge to find a corner to claim for herself, but Loxa was accustomed to living off and with very little. A corner was really all she needed.

And maybe a blanket for deep space. She'd inquire to such at another time.

For now?

<<This One only wishes to send a message once there is time to do so.>>

 

[Khaleel Malvern]

Loxa Visl

"Can do it now, if you want." He gestured to the lone pilot seat. "Flip the red switch to activate the comm-relay. Should get you what you need." Khal wasn't overly worried for some reason.

Which was rather odd for his paranoid arse.

Something about her put him at ease and THAT made him a bit fidgety.

"I am gonna go see if I can gather up some chow for us both." Another squint at her as he stepped aside to give her room to sit down in the seat. "You definitely need it." He tapped the edge of the seat and then... shrugged. "Well, good luck." Maybe it would be wise to listen in. Make sure she wasn't calling in a witchy airstrike.

But his stomach was a-grumblin' and hunger had always pushed his momentum forward.

He'd have to hope for the best while making some eggs.

 

[Loxa Visl]

Chow.

Loxa blinked at the man, not understanding his meaning but deciding not to ask as, apparently, she was in need of chow?

<<Sante,>> she replied instead, the Paecaen gratitude lilting from her tongue. She waited until he passed by in the hall before moving to carefully sit down in the pilot's chair. Unbeknownst to her, once upon a time Loxa Visl was completely incompetent with technology. From the use of a communications device to the flying of a ship - it simply was not done. Though present-day Loxa shared many similarities with her former self, such as the inability to read basic, she was at the very least learned enough with ships to recognize broad galactic-standard symbols and the basic array of commands and controls on a console.

Could she steal this ship? Maybe, but not without great effort and fuss. Did she intend to? The thought never crossed her mind.

Withdrawing the small paper pad upon which the old Jedi had drawn his map, she thumbed through the pages until she found one where the service general had written down the comm address. Loxa pushed the red button.


Some several days later, following the long journey across holonet and comm relays, a message would arrive to the small space station of Ferryman's Reach on planet Pagodon. It futzed in and out with interference, leaving many words at a best guess.

The gist?

A Man called Quill: Deep thanks for map. Found Moross book. Exocron soon. Drink tea, be well. Loxa.

<<What is chow?>> she said as she arrived, quiet-like, to the entrance of the small kitchen area where she next found Khal. Loxa looked in on him, her shadowed face peering out curiously from within her hood.


Jend-Ro Quill

 

[Khaleel Malvern]

Loxa Visl

It still weirded him out the foreign tongue felt so familiar to him.

Familiar wasn't even the right word. He spoke it himself without even thinking about it. His brain switching back and forth depending on the need, which would should have freaked him out, but somehow? It felt right to Khal. Weird, yes. But right too. This was something he didn't want to think too much about because that way lay dragons.

Chow.

It was simple chit. Eggs with nutritional bars imported from the moons of Felucia. Not quite tasty, but it filled you in the right spot.

By the time Visl had pushed her message into the 'verse the side-kitchen (more a kitchenette with a living room annex feel to it) was already in full motion flurry. Khal walking around and grabbing ingredients, the pan already sizzling hot with eggs on the plate.

"Chow?" Bemused her way before returning to the spices. "Food, the stuff ya put in yar stomach to keep powering on." Then a soft chuckle as he spiced up his egg with an extra dose of pepper. He liked things spicy.

"Something ya can definitely use, lil thin stick lady."

Once his egg was spiced to perfection Khal turned to her once more. "Ya like it spicy or nah?"

 

[Loxa Visl]

Food. Say no more. Or do - Loxa's expression betrayed a moment of amusement. What a strange and simple word, chow.

Then again he remarked on her weight and Loxa for what felt the first time in her life felt self-conscious about it. Rarely ever was one's weight a topic of discussion. Among the witches it was common to be lean - extra weight only slowed you down. Lost seconds could mean lost lives in the jungles of Dathomir or beyond. Within her own smaller coven that she had elected to travel abroad with, they were perhaps leaner still. They ate when jobs paid or when hunting allowed. Sometimes they did not eat at all.

But the smells in the kitchen did remind her that it had, indeed, been some time since she'd eaten a proper meal.

"Ya like it spicy or nah?"

This she did understand. Mostly. The witch nodded and then ducked her attention to rifle through her many many pockets. In her travel bag she eventually found a small pouch and pulled it out, offering it to him.

<<Choziir Sut,>> she said to him, <<some call it ... fire salt. A Man should use only a small.>>

 

[Khaleel Malvern]

Loxa Visl

He accepted it with some interest and opened it up, giving it a little sniff.

That sniff immediately turned into a wider sneeze.

"Damn, yeah, this sounds like it will hit the spot." Khal said cheerfully as he sprinkled a bit on her egg. Then glanced at the pouch, glanced at her and glanced at his egg. "You only live once..." He'd mutter before dashing a substantially larger dose on his own egg to boot. "It will be fine, I am used to spicy stuff."

This was probably the moment Khaleel signed his own death warrant.

Right now blissfully unaware however.

"So Exocron... sounds like a creepy place. You sure you don't want to go somewhere else? Rishi or something? That has beaches and tropical weather..."

 

[Loxa Visl]

A satisfied sort of expression followed as he sneezed and sprinkled a bit on one plate. The witches liked their spices and Loxa only wished she'd had more on her to share. But most of it had been used up during her travels and she had not returned to Dathomir in over three years to restock. Either way, it felt good to share and she hoped -

Loxa's eyes bugged as she watched Khal coat the other plate with so much Choziir Sut. Too much. Far too much.

<<No no!>> she reached mid-action, but it was far too late, and she did not feel as though it would be fine. Khal received a mortified look as Loxa gestured what effected as crossing herself to ward off bad luck, evil, or spirits. Or perhaps it was a prayer of mercy for him. Either way, she had concerns - ever so much more now that the concern of him killing her when her back was turned had been put to rest.

<<A Man must greatly wish to visit Rishi. He has mentioned it twice now. This One does not believe Rishi will have answers.>>

 

[Khaleel Malvern]

Loxa Visl

"Relax, lady, I know what I am doing." The man who did not know what he was doing would claim full of confidence. "Worst comes to worst and I will have some water with it."

Worst come to worst and his tasting buds would get temporarily burned out.

He stirred some more and then lowered the temperature just a little bit, so it would simmer on its own. After that he would start pulling out some bread for the sandwich making. "Well, I dunno about greatly... but isn't that everyone's dream? Retire on a sandy white beach with warm temperature and cool breezes..."

The way Khal was speaking about it it sounded more like something a young him had always been told.

By fellow gangbangers.

Just you wait, once I earn enough dough I will retire to Rishi!

"Why are these answers so important to you anyway?"

 

[Loxa Visl]

Loxa did not have the heart to tell him water would only make it worse. Perhaps she was over reacting. Perhaps he would be fine? Certainly there were other spices out there in the far stars that burned as hot as the ones she knew, or hotter. An intriguing thought...

Standing in the doorway to the kitchenette, Loxa leaned against the door jamb, the staff lightly held in her open hand.

<<This One dreams of jungles, rain, and the song of the sisters...>> she couldn't say a white beach held much appeal. Loxa had been to a few beaches and she found she wasn't particularly fond of sand or water that she could not drink.

As for the answers? Her gaze drifted to the staff, <<Could A Man live without knowing why the visions come to him?>>

<<This One cannot.>>

 

[Khaleel Malvern]

Loxa Visl

"This one..." Mimicking her speech, not in jest, but to ensure the exact meaning was conveyed. "...has been living with these visions for a long time now."

That was not entirely true.

The experience her staff had shown him?

Nothing quite like that in his life. But flares of memory, sensations that didn't quite belong and the intimate knowledge of wrongness? Oh, yes, Khal was very much familiar with that. It had been like an ugly itch. "Some chit ain't worth scratching." He'd finally say as he pressed the bread together to make for a nice sammich or two.

"Anyway, eggs are done. Take this plate and put it on the corner table." Handing her the plate with sammiches and busying himself with piling on the eggs onto two other plates.

"And what will you do once you have your answers. Back to your singing witch-sisters in the jungles?"

 

[Loxa Visl]

He was a man of little regard for the fates. Something she felt a great respect for, but also an innate sense of ...was it anxiety? So much of a witch's life was determined by fate, the stars, signs, visions, and many other esoteric things. She may not have been slave to their every whim, call it what one will, superstition perhaps, but Loxa disliked ignoring them on purpose.

She set the staff aside in a corner just beyond the kitchenette entrance, and took up the plate to ferry it back to the table.

<<This One does not know the future,>> she admitted, taking a seat and gently pushing the plate to the center of the table to wait for him, <<nor if the answers can be found.>> Loxa pushed the hood from her head with a deep sigh and brushed her hair from her eyes, looking up to watch Khal as he moved through the kitchen area, a man as sure of himself and comfortable in his home as she'd ever seen.

<<Sante,>> she thanked him, <<This One will hunt and cook for A Man should the chance come.>>

 

[Khaleel Malvern]

Loxa Visl

"You don't have to know the future to already make plans for them." Khal pointed out as he dropped in his seat with two plates in tow. One was pushed into her direction - the one with less 'fire-salt' and the other was pulled his own direction. He was already licking his lips at the sight. Truly a set of eggs for dinner wasn't exactly a royal feast.

"Just gotta accept that there is chit you won't know about what's in front of ya." A fork was taken in hand and he poked a little at the fried onions meshed together with the eggs.

"Once ya accept that? Say screw it to fate an' plan yar own desires accordingly anyway."

As if to punctuate-

Khal shoveled a big bite of egg onto his fork and unceremoniously deposited it between his lips. Then he began to chew.

"I dunno what yar were so worried about, this is delightf-" Hmm, that was... a bit hot, wasn't it? He tried to swallow and found his throat to be a bit less cooperative than he was used to. "...delightful..."

The first cough was suppressed.

This was not a great idea.

 

[Loxa Visl]

Loxa watched him for a moment, then dug back into her bag and withdrew two long, slender sticks that were rounded and textured on one end, then slightly narrowed and flattened at the other. Dathomiri chop sticks, as it were. Listening while she began to eat, her hand skillfully worked the sticks for small bites with very little hurry for someone who was as skinny as he'd said.

<<This is not the way of This One's people,>> she explained, <<We Sisters live for the Coven. Everything has purpose and meaning. We Sisters do not want needlessly or selfishly.>>

To wish to retire on ones own to Rishi? Dishonorable, immature, some might even say hateful. How could she want to turn her back on her Sisters in that way?

She looked up at his cough, blinking curiously. So it was not too much for him?

<<Choziir Sut grows - mm,>> she vaguely gestured with her hands, <<become more. For flavor only need small, become big.>>

Apparently it was only going to get worse for him.

 

[Khaleel Malvern]

Loxa Visl

"I could never live like..." Khal was starting to sweat. "...that." He managed to finish as he forced the swallow through his throat and breathed out. "Okay, yeah, I see what you-"

His face was starting to get red.

"Water... y-yeah, water."

Nodding to himself there as he started to rise up. Now his mouth was starting to resemble the interior of a furnace in full-swing. The fact that this wouldn't help at all was lost to him. "Just-" Feth me, what is this chit? "-living for a commune? Denying yar own needs? Ehhh.." And then a coughing fit as he started to pour a glass of water for himself.

Quicker gestures, QUICKER, something wet needed to get in his mouth right about now.

 

[Loxa Visl]

Oh. Oh my.

There he goes.

Golden eyes grew slowly larger as she watched Khal unravel over his eggs, spewing opinions about her culture that she could smell the heat on. Gods be merciful, how much did he use? Loxa slowly put her sticks down and watched him move for - oh no not the water.

<<NO!>> she yelled at him, her hand splaying forward toward the cup and sending it toppling from his own hand with an unseen energy. Water everywhere.

<<No no no, milk! A Man must drink milk!>>

 

[Khaleel Malvern]

Loxa Visl

The cup was wrenched out of his hand.

Because believe me, if your mouth was burning like the seven circles of hell, you'd be holding onto any source of salvation like your life depended on it. But he hadn't counted on MAGIC sending it flying away from him.

"H-hey!" He tried to yell at her, but it came out more like hhehyyaa! and started to quickly rummage around the fridge. No milk in sight. Khal looked up at her with despair (and tears) in his eyes.

The next level of scorching heat was reached.

Numbness set in.

"H-alp."

 

[Loxa Visl]

No milk.

Loxa swore in Paecean and quickly looked around, her eyes landing on his beautifully crafted sandwhiches. Waste not, want not. She reached for the top pieces of bread on each one, peeled them away and moved to his front. One hand grabbed him by the jaw while the other stuffed the first piece of bread in. Bread wouldn't dull the heat like milk could, but it would help to keep it from getting any worse.

<<Not swallow,>> she told him sternly, <<spit out.>>

Two commands Khal probably never thought he'd hear in his life.

 

[Khaleel Malvern]

Loxa Visl

He had not expected the woman to rush forward and grab his jaw in a vise-like grip.

Or to shove bread in his mouth.

Or... to tell him that.

It made him choke harder than the bread did. It was truly a sign of insatiablity that Khal smirked and was about to say something, before she shoved another piece of bread in his mouf. He grabbed for her wrist to make her stop and nodded his head quickly. No swallowing, okay, okay, instead only spitting.

That was fine.

He began to chew.

Once it was a fine pulpy mass Khal looked around and localized his own garbage bin. Part of him wanted to swallow anyway. Like a brat. Instead he spit out like the good doctor ordered.

"Kriff me..." He breathed out, still hot... still painful, but no longer all-consuming. "That... wow. Do you have more of it?" Hopeful tone that was entirely contrasting the tears still running down his cheeks.