First Reply Leave Her Johnny | Ifron

[0-7]

Ifron
Tags: OPEN

NK-Witell-class Freighter, 0A-155, Songbird (lightsaber), Vibrosword
​

"I hate to sail on this rotten tub.
'Leave her, Johnny, leave her!'"

Seven found herself sat at a camp fire below a land bridge, pouring rain on either open mouth. Various cosmonauts from across the galaxy were gathered here, part of a mercantile caravan that she slipped into for ease of travel. An ion storm had rolled in around the open space of Ifron, grounding all vessels for the foreseeable future. Typically, Seven would just stay on her ship and not engage with others, but curiosity got the better of her. She wound up sitting with those who decided to converse while they had nowhere to go, keeping to herself at a bit of a distance.

And they sang. Songs she had never heard before, in fact.

"No grog allowed and rotten grub.
And it's time for us to leave her."

They all seemed to have booze on reserve to break out for the occasion, and it was unclear if any of them were more than simply passing strangers amongst the stars. Even so, they sang and drank like they had been friends for a lifetime. There was something so alien about it, from the outside looking in. People in so many places seemed to just connect. Like they had been doing it their whole lives, really. They probably had been. Seven knew that she was really the foreigner to these sorts of things. In an environment where you were forced to kill to survive you developed very poor social skills. Lest you give the enemy a knife to drive into your back...

Or suffer the wrath of those who lord over you.

"Leave her, Johnny, leave her!
Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her!"

Maybe that was what drew her in, made her so curious. It was in the nature of most beings to covet what they could not have. Seven knew that she probably could not connect with these strangers, but she could watch them bond. Try to wrap her mind around how they did it with the fleeting hope that maybe she could do the same.

Not that it would do any good without actually taking the chance to put herself out there. Fear kept her away. Kept her observing instead of acting. Worst was that she knew it too.

One day she'd have to let herself be vulnerable. Fear was just a difficult beast to tame.

"For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow
And it's time for us to leave her."

 

[Olorion Fossk]

The storm had arrived with little warning and enough fury to bring every ship in the area to the ground. Rain poured beyond the shelter of the land bridge in steady sheets, turning the earth outside into dark mud while countless droplets struck the stone overhead in a constant, almost soothing rhythm. Scattered campfires burned beneath the bridge wherever the terrain allowed, their orange glow reflecting faintly against the wet stone and casting long shadows over the collection of merchants, traders, and travelers who had found themselves stranded together by circumstance.

I had intended to remain aboard my ship and simply wait for the storm to pass. It seemed the more sensible choice. Yet after nearly an hour of listening to distant laughter and the occasional raised voice carrying through the rain, curiosity had eventually gotten the better of me. So I found myself seated beneath the shelter with a steaming mug resting between my hands, the warmth seeping pleasantly into my fingers as I watched the gathering before me.

Someone had begun singing some time ago, though I had no idea when exactly it had started. Others had joined without hesitation. A bottle made its way around the fire while voices of varying quality somehow found a shared rhythm. One individual forgot part of the song and laughed at himself while another corrected him, only to immediately stumble over the next verse and receive the same treatment. Nobody seemed embarrassed by it. In fact, mistakes appeared to make the experience more enjoyable. The entire thing felt strangely natural, as though every person gathered around those fires had known one another for years.

The reality was that most of them had likely never met before tonight and would probably never see one another again after the storm passed.

I found that oddly fascinating.

I understood camaraderie. I had served alongside soldiers and seen crews become close through hardship and necessity. Shared struggle had a way of forging connections between people that often endured long after the difficulties themselves had ended. Yet this felt entirely different. There was no mission here. No chain of command. No obligation keeping these people together. They had simply chosen to share the same fire, the same songs, and the same evening because circumstances had placed them in one another's company.

As I watched, my attention eventually drifted away from the fire and settled upon another figure seated beneath the bridge. She had chosen a place that allowed her to observe the gathering while remaining apart from it. There was something familiar in the decision. She did not appear uncomfortable so much as curious, as though she were trying to understand something that remained just out of reach. It occurred to me then that, despite the number of people gathered beneath the shelter, she and I were perhaps the only two not participating.

I watched the fire again as another verse of the song began and listened as several people attempted to harmonize with varying degrees of success. The rain continued to fall beyond the bridge, the fire crackled softly, and laughter drifted through the dimly lit shelter.

"You've been studying them."

The words left me evenly and without particular purpose beyond simple observation. I allowed a few moments to pass before speaking again, my gaze never leaving the gathering around the campfire.

"I have been doing the same thing."

0-7

 

[0-7]

Ifron
Tags: Olorion Fossk

NK-Witell-class Freighter, 0A-155, Songbird (lightsaber), Vibrosword
​

"You've been studying them."

"I have been doing the same thing."

"Have you learned anything?"

Seven didn't turn to look at the stranger. His presence alone told her everything she needed to know. After all, it was not long ago that she was steeped far into the clutches of dishonest souls. That dark presence which had once permeated her being still lingered faintly, a stamp left behind by the years of anguish and paranoia. The Evereni plucked a stick from the ground mindlessly and began to roll it between her fingers.

"It's simple here, isn't it..." Seven mused. "Almost makes you wonder what life could be like if you were born like them."

Alas, here she sat. Force flowing through her veins, a mechanical heart whirring instead of beating. Twisted into something else for the amusement of another in a life she couldn't seem to escape from. It was cruel to be on the outside looking in...

And yet, she could not help but feel she had earned it.

"The only reason to study people from afar is because you'll never learn from them first-hand... isn't that just pitiful."

Her tone was flat and lacked inflection. It was unclear if she was speaking in an ironic manner or not. Perhaps her monotone voice even masked a bit of venom.

It was hard to tell.