Public Low-Life Day (RTL/Spacers/Scoundrels Etc)

[Aeshi Tillian]

COMET CHASER STATION

Life Day. The one-day-a-Galactic-standard-year holiday that celebrates family, friends, gifts, and the meaning of home for most people in the galaxy. Which, she found weird, since it was a Wookiee holiday. That was the case, wasn’t it? So was that cultural appropriation? Or a different form of colonialism? Or a gift to the galaxy?

Aeshi stared into the glass of whiskey as a melancholy tune tricked through the bare walls of the asteroid base’s cantina, cutting beneath the low murmur of voices echoing between the walls. Squibs hustled back and forth, eager to get the perfect piece of salvage.

But the rest of them? They were stuck. Drifters from every crevice of the galaxy. Refugees from the Terminus Free Republic and the Kathol Rift, refugees from Csilla, refugees from Dorin. Traders looking to have some bit of stability before their next run. Scoundrels and smugglers, gamblers and addicts.

The low life’s of the galaxy, honest, at least generally and according to their own codes. Down below, on the moon, her own family were gathering for their own Life Day celebration, but she had never managed to bring herself to visit.

Sure, she had to have gone before her parents were executed by the One Sith. But she had been too young to remember that. They were family by blood and by law, but not by heart or choice.

That made her slam the glass down onto the table, harder than intended. The dull thump cut through the current of noise around her and heads turned, hands poised above guns.

“This is bogus,” Aeshi said before kicking her chair back and standing up. “Let’s have our own life day. We ain’t blood related and we may not have met, but Force be damned, if we aren’t related by creed and spirit.”

That got her some suspicious looks, but there was at least attention. Aeshi raised a hand, catching the attention of burly Squib behind the bar. “I’ll pay tonight’s tab. Spread the word- Life Day for Low Lifes, right here and starting now. Invite your friends in-system.”

 

[Mnoi Akûti]

Mnoi Akûti sat alone in the corner of the cantina, inspecting a small chunk of heavy neutronium he had acquired from the salvage yard and sipping on some bantha milk. He refused alcohol because he didn't want his mind to dull. Plus, he like the blue color. Blue, like his eyes, after which he'd gotten his moniker. He didn't have a real name. He'd never been given one. His mother had abandoned him the moment she realized her child was not a Sith Pureblood but was mostly human. Even though it was technically her fault and none his. And so, he had grown up orphaned and alone, learning to fend for himself on a frozen wasteland until he was old enough and strong enough to leave. He called Tatooine his home now. It was a place he could feel fairly comfortable, relatively speaking. He was an outcast, and nobody on Tatooine spared him a second look. He'd managed to work odd jobs to save up for a decent ship. Now he was working to scrounge up material for a weapon. He'd be able to enact a little payback on those high-and-mighty Sith.
His piercing blue gaze snapped toward a table as some spacer woman slammed her glass down on the table. (Good quality mug that it didn't shatter. He was quite impressed with that.) Apparently, she was peeved about something. Something to do with Life Day? Mnoi had never celebrated, considering he had no family or friends. But she did have a point, the people here were probably the most like him of anyone in the galaxy. Fellow outcasts and loners. Maybe he could let down his guard just a little, just this once. She was paying for drinks, after all. One wouldn't hurt.

 

[Aeshi Tillian]

Mnoi Akûti

Aeshi paused, glass halfway to her mouth, as she caught sight of something unexpected. An alien species she never expected to see here, let alone one with blue eyes. She was no scholar, but she'd grown up on One Sith-occupied Coruscant. She knew enough about their lore to recognize the species. Yet she was positive they were all gone, but that appeared not to be right.

Still, it was a surprise. And if she was honest, what better place was there for him? He wasn't part of the Sith Order, she was willing to put money on it. After a moment, she handed a credit chip to the bar tender, and moved over across the room.

"You're new here," Aeshi said as she sat down in the table. "I thought I knew most people who came through this way. Name's Aeshi Tillian."

 

[Mnoi Akûti]

The woman who had ordered the drinks for everyone approached his table.

"You're new here," Aeshi said as she sat down at the table. "I thought I knew most people who came through this way. Name's Aeshi Tillian."

He studied her for a moment. Definitely Human, or at least indistinguishable from one, and she seemed to be around the same age as him. Not that he was particularly adept at telling, but he had a habit of profiling those around him. It had helped keep him alive. She didn't seem hostile, just curious about a new face. He has not figured people would be too familiar with one another here, but at the same time he wasn't all that surprised either. Either way, he felt he could risk opening up a bit. She might be able to give him some information. Might even become a decent contact. Never could tell who someone might turn out to be or who they might know.
"I am indeed new here. First time in the area. I have no actual name to give. I was called 'Mnoi Akûti,' though that was intended as an insult. It means 'blue eyes.' But it seemed appropriate to me, so I took it as my name. However, since many people loathe speaking that language, I'm fine with the Basic translation. You can just call me Blue, if you like. It's all the same to me.
"I'm mostly in the area looking for materials." He held up the small chunk of dense metal. "Like this. Quite a nice find. Not many salvage yards where you can find a piece of neutroniam that hasn't already been stripped away. Very pleased with that.
"What kind of drink would you recommend here?"

 

[Oshin Jantu]

Music IC [Recurring]

Spoiler

​

Oceans. Blue moons.
Oshin Jantu. That too.
She drinks—liquid truth.
Tequila—sharp as a tooth.

Life Day. What’s life, anyway?
What’s death, besides another day?
Life, death, amazing what we celebrate.
To Oshin, a woman in an ocean, it escapes.

Meaning becomes meaningless, so she drinks.
Words are wind, thoughts are air, hang on the brink.
They dangle as patrons mingle, as they drink and speak.
She lingers, a woman in an ocean of life, even in a dying sea.

The lyrics are ample, a woman thinks, sipping her clear tequila.
Transparent, like a mirror, but in its liquid she cannot see her face.
Thoughts of a homeless alien, Oshin Jantu has those, like anesthesia.
Insensitive to pain, thoughts of love or hate, a cantina is yet her place.

She swims, she floats, she knows she is in an aimless haze, with a vacant gate.
Nonsense, words lose meaning in the bottom of a pool, like water in a glass.
But it’s alcohol and all, tequila becomes the water, and it cradles a lady’s gaze.
But she’s no lady, that woman, she’s a killer, a loner, carrying death in her hands.

Today, tonight, absent of mind, at the bar, a woman with four arms, but just the two.
Other two, hiding behind the flaps of her black leather jacket, two hands on glass move.
Turning her drink of tequila round and round but for no real purpose by that music’s sound.
Guitar string’s strum, a woman’s vocals, singing about sweet winds, alien skies, quiet and loud.

At that moment, at her stool at the bar, Oshin Jantu hears a glass slam down, but not hers.
Like a cat disturbed, her eyes of ice glimpse left, glimpse right, as she swallows a liquid burn.
Dull thump on table, cut through the current of noise around her, heads turn, hands above guns.
“This is bogus,” cries a woman, but it’s not Oshin, but she trains her gaze to a woman standing up.

A Human, Force be damned, crying about creed and spirit, offering to pay tonight’s tab at that.
That was enough for Oshin Jantu, the Codru-Ji, to raise her glass and down what was left within it.
Tapping fingers on the counter, the bartender acknowledges her, Life Day for Low Lifes, her and him.
Another tequila, top shelf, no need to squander spirit on cheap spirits as she gives that counter a slap.

For now, Oshin, the assassin, is content to remain at the bar and drink free drink, listening to a lady sing.
The stars at night, like angels, try to call me from my sleep, and I long to draw the curtains back.
And listen while they speak. Can you tell me if my world is well? And sing me of that which you cannot tell?
And weep for the traveler who fell from space. To be trapped for all time on this lonely place.

Aeshi Tillian Mnoi Akûti

 

[Aeshi Tillian]

Mnoi Akûti Oshin Jantu

"Mnoi Akuti," Aeshi said slowly, trying not to trip over the words. They were unfamiliar to her, although the sounds were familiar. She had at least that much connection with the Jensaarai roots of her family. Roth would have known better, she suspected, but she didn't spend her whole life trying to chart her course to go back and ask questions about the language. "Do you want Mnoi to be your name?"

As he held up the neutronium, she studied it carefully. It looked normal to her, so she wasn't sure what made it so special. "Well, you're in the right place for salvage and raw materials. We've got a massive asteroid belt around this system. All sorts of prospectors out there trying to stake their claims or recover what's left behind from old claims."

At the last question, she paused, considering, before holding up a glass of whiskey. "I prefer whiskey myself. Otherwise, there won't be much top-shelf liquor here. Everything is strong but probably rough."

Another movement in her peripheral caught her attention. It was a simple motion, calling for another drink, but it was practiced, deliberate. Dangerous, perhaps, or someone who was dangerous. No threat yet, but not entirely typical for the clientele frequented here.

 

[Mnoi Akûti]

The Sith hybrid was rather surprised to hear the woman try to pronounce his moniker. It should have been easily identifiable as Sith, though he supposed it was theoretically possible to not recognize High Sith. It was a much more ancient form. Or it simply didn't really matter to her what language it was. Perhaps she was one who was unphased by most things. She had approached him, after all. He didn't necessarily look like a Sith Pureblood, but there were telltale signs if one knew what to look for. And he definitely wasn't Human.

"Do you want Mnoi to be your name?"

He gave a simple shrug. "It's all the same to me. Never really had much practical use for a name anyway. No friends or family. When you're on your own, why need a name?" He chuckled at that. It was genuinely funny to him in a way.

"Well, you're in the right place for salvage and raw materials. We've got a massive asteroid belt around this system. All sorts of prospectors out there trying to stake their claims or recover what's left behind from old claims. I prefer whiskey myself. Otherwise, there won't be much top-shelf liquor here. Everything is strong but probably rough."

"Whiskey it is then. Might be worth looking around that belt. Some of what I'm looking for might be difficult to find outside certain places, though. At least, difficult for someone as broke as I am. Took me a while to save up for a ship. Anything I can get free or cheap is welcome. I did manage to get some phrikite from a mine on Tatooine. I hadn't even known they had phrikite mines until I stumbled on one by chance.
Bet you're curious as to why I'm looking for these materials." He took a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolding it to show a hand-sketched blueprint of a sword. He leaned in, lowering his voice. "I aim to create my own vibrosword for fighting Sith." Anger flashed in his ice blue eyes as he said the word Sith. "Something strong against lightsabers and alchemized weapons. Phrik will help with that, as will cortosis if I can find some. The neutronium will add some weight to it. Imagine that bearing down on a lightsaber. What I'd really love to find, though, is some laminanium, ionite, and ostrine. Those are going to be difficult to obtain without a good sum of money. And I'd love a bit of platinum, as well, but that's mostly for aesthetics."

 

[Oshin Jantu]

Music IC [Optional]

Spoiler

​

Shifty eyes, blue bright, pale as moon, cold as ice, drifting right, land on an old man with ale in hand. He sat on his bar stool like a Herglic sits on an Ewok’s loveseat, whatever that means, except to mean that these seats were made for Squibs more than him. More than me. Thinks a woman.

“Need something?” She queries toward the ogling Human, uncertain if his was a lecherous look, but she’s more weary than wary.

“Your eyes. Very nice.” He lifted his glass like the compliment was more for himself, as though he wanted her eyes more than her behind.

Top shelf. You're buying. Not him but the other woman, that Human, who declared the tab was hers, fair and square, and Oshin wasn’t one to argue with fact.

“They came with a price,” she replied, looking away from the man and his white whiskers, lest she keep looking and send shivers down his spine.

“They prosthetic?”

He couldn’t pin her species. Codru-Ji, that’s what she is, but her skin is closer to a Human’s and her ears are more rounded than pointed. As for four arms, well, her coat had only two sleeves to boast, so it was unlikely some rando would assume she has more than two.

“They’re more real than yours.”

He laughed at that, raised his glass, less pathetic of a man and more one patron talking to another; but he might just move in for the kind of kiss that would get him killed, and she isn’t feeling the violence.

“Enjoy your night, friend.” Downing what was left, Oshin gestures for a refill, swinging her gaze away from the bar, swinging a leg over the stool, two legs and four arms leaving one fool for the other.

That woman, that Human, at a corner table with a man whose face was full of tats at first glance. Oshin is more exploring now, more coasting than surfing, bored on the floor as she opens a door for conversation with a man and a woman. Aeshi Tillian Mnoi Akûti

“What the hell is lemonadium?”

She had heard the tail end of whatever this other man and the woman had spoken. Oshin stands with glass in hand, tequila, sipping the nectar while sizing up the brunette chick.

“You’re the gal who bought the house a round.”

It wasn’t really a question, wasn’t really a statement; more of a declaration of expensive celebration. Whatever that means. Oshin’s had a few drinks; she isn’t drunk, not really, but buzzing.

“That certainly cost a cute credit chip. Must be rich. But I thank you for it.”

Her turn to raise her glass in hand.

“To tequila!”

Gulping back, her gaze lands on the man, eyes into eyes, four orbs of ice. Uncanny. But brilliant.

“Got milk?”

Aeshi Tillian Mnoi Akûti

 

[Aeshi Tillian]

Mnoi Akûti Oshin Jantu

"What use is a name...?" Aeshi leaned forward, baffled for a moment. "Our names are our reputations, our legacies, our identities. Out here on the Rim, we forge names for ourselves and those names will dictate our fortune." She downed the rest of her glass of whiskey and then shrugged. "If we have trustworthy names, things can work out alright."

As he continued, she leaned back in the chair, considering, her eyes growing wider as he listed off the metals he was looking for. "Yeah... that is a lot," she admitted after a moment, tilting her head to study the design. "I'm sure it could do good work if you're dead set on fighting Sith. I prefer a good scatter-gun, but I'm sure a sword could feel good."

The woman, whose movements were dangerous and practiced approached, asking about lemonadium. Perhaps a little sloshed than Aeshi had expected. "It was me yeah. And not too rich. This place is cheap. If it weren't, none of us would be here. But I figure we could all use some reasons to celebrate."

 

[Mnoi Akûti]

The blue-eyed Sith hybrid pondered on what this Aeshi Tillian woman had said. "Well... maybe I can one day forge my own name. For now, though, I'm a nobody. Which is something you wouldn't normally hear from my kind." He chuckled. "Not that I claim any of them."
He motioned for the barkeep to bring some more of the whiskey.
"A scatter gun could be effective, though it has its disadvantages. A quick enough enemy could destroy the slugs with the lightsaber or even dodge out of the way. But when you get up close and hit them with a heavy sword that the lightsaber cannot cut, they won't be expecting that. Plus, many Force-users neglect any physical training. But most of all, I want to be up close to look into their eyes when they realize they were defeated by an ordinary."

Some suspicious women then came up, asking what lemonadium was. Probably had heard him say laminanium. "It's a citrus drink, quite popular on Tatooine. It's very refreshing, though I personally think people tend to put too much sugar in it."

The odd woman then turned to Aeshi, exchanging some words, before giving a loud cheer. He could see she was slightly flushed, but she didn't seem to be drunk enough for this behavior. Of course, some people were just a bit odd, but he was keeping his guard up just in case. He was fairly certain she was hiding something under jacket as well, though there was no telling what. The last expression of "Got milk?" was particularly odd. And a bit creepy. Had to some kind of act. Right?
"Practically everywhere carries some kind of milk, considering some species can't tolerate alcohol. Milk might upset your stomach though, as much as you seem to have had to drink. Ask the barkeep if they have lemonade."

 

[Aeshi Tillian]

Mnoi Akûti

"Forge a name," Aeshi said slowly, trying to process the meanings of those words. "And nothing wrong with being a nobody. It has its perks." She wasn't entirely sure who his people were supposed to be, other than vaguely the Sith species of some sort? But it was rude to ask.

"They might destroy the slugs," Aeshi agreed, with a shrug, "But it would be hard to destroy all of them. And even a few slipping by can do some hefty damage."

There was a hard edge to his final words. "And sometimes that will make quite a good difference, to break the mental confidence of Sith."

The other woman still stood there, a little imbalanced, perhaps, but that was to be expected in a place like this.

 

[Oshin Jantu]

Music IC [Recurring]

Spoiler

​

Rich or poor, these many credits or more.
Whether either or neither, well, whatever.
A generic merchant place of a spaceport.
An asteroid station, credits in any weather.

What did all this nonsense mean anyway?
For Oshin, a woman in influence, this day.
Tonight, perhaps, but she’s no drunk skunk.
Bit to drink but not too much, here for fun.

The other woman revealed no secrets, but her status was no secret. She wasn’t rich, as expected, but carry the one and dot the T and it still cost a pretty penny to cover the tabs at that. Still, if her game was simply to celebrate, well, Oshin would not hold it against her, and the tequila had a tasty burn.

She had raised her glass, clear liquid blast, downed the toast even if she drank alone, asked for milk but not for herself. It’s what the man had, the guy with the face tats, hooded outcast, maybe a Dath, but who gave a crap?

From milk to lemonade, a citrus drink quite popular on Tatooine, the guy speaks, very refreshing, and hold the sugar. I’m sweet enough. A woman thinks. Oshin, an assassin, but tonight and today, whatever the case, just a lady in a cheap enough cantina for a not-too-rich Human to buy everyone a drink.

Queue the man to ramble on about how everywhere carries some kind of milk, as though his fellow patron was actually asking for it, settling for her liquid silk, but truth be told she’s just making conversation without much stake in playing this game of words. Then he ends his sentence with asking the barkeep if they have lemonade.

Queue an Oshin’s grin to give way in an ocean of patrons at the approved location of Comet Chaser Station. Words be damned, thoughts have no plan—Oshin’s in a buzz, remember, but a buzz does not necessarly mean drunk or as plastered as that fatter gentleman at the table to the left of everyone’s general direction—a Bothan perhaps.

Oshin casts a glance, blinks herself out of the trance, distracted but not robbed of her wits as she listens in to her two nearest patrons engage in conversation. She takes a sip, content to listen, but it would be a mistake to assume she’s stupid to anyone's glance at her jacket as to what might be hidden within it.

The Codru-Ji’s two extra arms were not wiggling around downtown, though it was probably just as foolish to assume that a person in a place like this with a black leather trench coat like hers had nothing hiding behind it, like a pair of blasters, but that was another matter.

The other woman finished speaking, that Human with a penchant for celebration, tab be damned, and Oshin did not need to cock an eyebrow to offer curiosity to her mention of ‘Sith’. Whatever these two were talking about, she had not heard that much until now.

“Either of you ever actually fought a Sith? Or Jedi?” The other had mentioned a lightsaber, but that was when Oshin was looking at that fat Bothan so whatever indeed. “Or are you just spouting theory?”

Her tone of voice wasn’t rude, it was true, more candid than challenging, imagining these other two as being assassins.

“I have. I danced with a Jedi Knight. He clocked me upside the head with his fist," she gestured, glass in hand. "Had a clock in it, truth be told, or some kinda ornament, Force Flung it in my general direction, knocked me out cold, took me out of the game and I woke up with a splitting headache."

Tequila, milk, whatever was in that glass, Oshin felt like this occasion did not really warrant a toast. "In a cantina to boot. Bastard didn't even buy me a drink. Rude."

Aeshi Tillian Mnoi Akûti

 

[Aeshi Tillian]

Oshin Jantu Mnoi Akûti

Aeshi leaned back in the chair, letting its front legs raise up from the ground, assessing the woman. So she had once fought a Jedi in a bar. That was something, at least. Aeshi raised her whiskey.

"I have fought Sith several times," she downed the last of the glass, letting the warm burn run away some of the memories. "My preference is in a ship, far away, but I can knife fight with the best of them if need be. And very rude of a Jedi to clock you in the head and not buy a drink."

She grinned. "They're not usually great when it comes to buying drinks, to be fair."