Madrugada

[Ayessa Kroan]

madrugada, noun; the moment at dawn when the night greets the day.​

Kiffu, 'The Spaceport', 08:00 AM Local Time
Interacting with [member="Rook Lokar"]
——————————————————————

Kiffu was tragically stormy today.

The planet was famed for electrical storms, of course -- When the sister-planet (And notorious prison-world) Kiffex orbited too close and the atmospheres collided with that of Kiffu's, the result were the brilliant streaks of orange-yellow electricity arcing across the beige, clouded-over sky. A double-edged natural resource. On days like these, the electrical collectors strewn across the planet would be supercharged, capacitors straining to hold back the raw electricity, which would go on to meet the needs of residents.

Unfortunately, it also made for absolutely, dictionary-definition, beyond unsafe flying conditions. Even with a pilot who could fly like the devil, ships are undeniably metal and the lightning was attracted to them like flies to a corpse. So the local garrison of Kiffu Guardians, operating as the port authority, had called for all travel to be halted until the storms concluded to ensure everyone's safety. Odds were it could take anywhere from a few hours to an entire day for the atmospheres to detangle.

The grounding of spacecraft meant opportunity, though. Merchants were forced to stay longer than they intended, forced to sell trade goods at reduced pricing due to the schedule adjustments playing havoc with profit margins. Potential employers stuck in one place where it was easy to get jobs once the storm passed.

Those facts mattered quite a bit to the lone native wandering down to the spaceport. It really was just called 'the spaceport' -- Her people never were big on the fancy names, outside of government -- Maybe some called it the 'western spaceport' due to its geographical location on Kiffu's western hemisphere, but in the local area it was kept simple. Everyone knew where you meant when you said 'the spaceport'.

Empty thoughts such as those plagued Ayessa's mind as she strolled past a low durasteel building, sand-soaked clothes whipping slightly in the brisk storm breeze that had descended on the port. It was easier to think of mundane, grounding things like that than the other things encroaching on her mind. Most of the spaceport denizens were inside in bars and, well, more bars, but some of the aforementioned desperate traders hawked their quickly-spoiling goods in the cool morning air. It was one of these ramshackle stalls she passed by, cool eyes judging the various exotic fruits on offer and the gaze narrowed further at the price. The green Rodian behind the counter raised his bug-like head upon spotting a customer, tiny lips raised in a cartoonish smile, "All must go, miss."

"I see. You're charging a bit much on a day like this, though, aren't you?"

Let the haggling begin. There was little else to do.

 

[Rook Lokar]

This certainly wasn't as planned.

In recent times Rook had found himself under the employ of The Exchange, and most importantly Vinon Demeaux. They were friendly, maybe friends, but as of now it was primarily a relationship of 'you take this illegal stuff to this place secretly and I'll give you money', and both were just pleased to see their end of the bargain fulfilled. Now? Now he found himself grounded for who knows how long. He'd spent the night on his ship, planning to leave in the morning, but that storm had something else in mind for him, didn't it?

Rook's feet now shuffled through the sand, his eyes glancing left and right, up and down at just about everything he saw. He'd seen some planets here and there but he wasn't exactly well versed just yet. He'd surely like to be, however. Kiffu was oddly delightful, the electrical storms that raged in the clouds above ensnaring his attention in the moment he ought to look like a fool as he stared straight upwards. It wasn't easy on the neck.

After a brief yawn and rub of the eye his attention was diverted to the fruit stall nearby, hearing the voice of a Rodian followed by that of a local. I am hungry. Rook thought to himself, shrugging his shoulders and approaching the two.

​"Bit much." Rook scoffed, appearing as if he was offended. It was an old tactic of his, really. No store-owner wanted a disgruntled customer, especially when they can do something about it.

[member="Ayessa Kroan"]

 

[Ayessa Kroan]

Kiffu, 'The Spaceport', 08:00 AM Local Time
Interacting with [member="Rook Lokar"]
——————————————————————

Things were getting interesting now, at least. For a moment her eyes swept up to inspect the newcomer to their conversation but her attention was quickly grabbed by the seller who made an odd churling noise of contemplation. At least, Ayessa hoped it was in contemplation. She hadn't met too many Rodians. Maybe this was how they began to attack. It was clear he wasn't happy with the situation at the very least, and for the briefest of seconds, she found her hands drifting to a particular spot in her robes. Finally, after a short period of musing, massive back eyes focused on the pair and the warbling voice returning with a slight whine of pitiful desperation behind it, "Fine, take half off, and then scram, I need well-paying customers, not the scavengers!"

She was all too eager to fork over the necessary credits without further word or argument, let him call her what he liked. Her eyes were only for the potential meal, barely-restrained eagerness behind the gaze. Admittedly, Ayessa had barely brought enough to afford one of the small orange fruits on offer, but she faintly recalled them being sweet and refreshing. Or maybe not. With the price slash, though, she still had three of them cradled in her arm like some sort of precious infant by the end of the transaction. The Rodian took that opportunity to duck away to retrieve more stock from a crate packed into the corner of the shelter he'd erected, muttering in a native tongue all the while, the unspoken directive loud and clear, to the point one didn't need to be a mindreader to tell what the seller was trying to project with body language, 'By the time I turn back around, you'll both be gone.' Breaking her momentary silence the Kiffar turned up to the unfamiliar face and offered a quiet, "Thanks, for that." Head tilted a little to the side then, she inspected him casually and she proceeded to state the obvious in a flat tone, "You're not from around here."

 

[Rook Lokar]

Rook watched, Rook waited. The instant that the Rodian turned around, his right hand rushed forwards to snatch at two of those smaller orange fruits. He didn't know how they would taste, but one could only guess that they were decent enough to eat twice. He truly was a Scoundrel. The Galaxy wasn't fair, it didn't treat you right, and so Rook only treated it the same. If there was anything he learned, it was that you take what you can when you can. The Rodian had likely done something shoddy in the past, and so let's just call that last act a taste of retribution. Yet, there was that chance he was entirely innocent, and in that case he just had a run of bad luck. It'll teach him to be more weary next time.

​A brief period of hesitation washed over the Smuggler as he inspected the fruit, but he soon dug his teeth into it as the juices flowed in an around his mouth. Slow, cautious chewing soon followed, and then an Oh. It was better than most fruits he'd tasted, that was for sure. His fruit loving trance was soon interrupted, however. His eyes diverting to the woman with a dismissive wave initially, but then came something else. "I don't think so, no." He replied with a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. "Just visiting, but I'm off when that storm goes." Rook further explained, lazily pointing to the sky above with his other hand that happened to old the other fruit he stole.

​There was a certain type of people that Rook could be associated with. Perhaps Ayessa knew that type or not, it hardly mattered. There was just something about his demeanour that reeked with 'up to something'. It was difficult to explain, but everyone knew it when they saw it.

[member="Ayessa Kroan"]

 

[Ayessa Kroan]

Kiffu, 'The Spaceport', 08:00 AM Local Time
Interacting with [member="Rook Lokar"]
——————————————————————

Almost at once her mouth fell open instinctively, eyebrows pushed together in a manner that clearly read 'What the feth', a protest to his theft already rising in her throat. Something else inside shushed it and the disapproving look dropped almost as soon as it had appeared. Morals were as dead as her men, and she couldn't fault a little criminal indulgence on this tried-and-true scoundrel's part. The archetype was all too familiar, they came out in the droves where she was from-- That was an odd term of phrase to use. 'Where she was from'.

Same galaxy, right?

Ayessa's expression didn't shift much upon focusing on him proper, idly tucking her legitimate meal away into a fold of her clothes, "I would think so. It seems there isn't much reason to stay here anymore, even for locals." The double meaning of that statement made her feel like a battalion of droids was bearing down on her, the same deep squeezing feeling in her gut. There was nothing left here for her, either, no matter how much she clawed at the sand to make it seem like it was otherwise. All the sandcastles fell apart in the end.

Her tone was consistent with the borderline bored expression on her face, but it was boredom that ran soul-deep, and that was plain to se. Perhaps this was alleviating it. Or making it worse. Shifting away slightly from the stall to avoid being spotted by the merchant again lest she get pelted by rotten fruit, the snake marking twisted a little funny as her facial muscles shifted from neutral face to slighty-less-neutral-face, "Heading somewhere nicer, then?" The way she said the question was more like a mannerism, just something you said inbetween serious inquiries. It was practised. Those eyes suddenly seemed a little sharper, studying him as if she could see beyond the physical, to something deeper. Which, of course, was true. Empathetic Force Users had that talent on their side, though she kept hers on a tight, tight leash for now, a caged animal. It was better to exercise restraint for the time being, see how long this encounter would last, where it could lead.

Almost like clockwork, or divine intervention, a crack of thunder roared overhead like an angry rancor.

 

[Rook Lokar]

The Galaxy was an absolute constant. Nothing changed, no matter how long you let it be. The Jedi still fought the Sith, the Mandalorians still waged war, and the Galaxy remained all so very unfair. Rook was only a product of that, as were so many others. Slavery plagued the outer-rim, and so to hear that a boy from out there was once a slave was surely nothing to think twice about. He may pride himself on the fact that he earned his freedom through skill, or call it luck. If there was one thing that Rook believed in, however, it was that you made your own luck.

As the two of them walked side-by-side through the street the Scoundrel turned to prop his elbow up onto the wall, turning to face the Kiffar. "Nar Shaddaa... It's payday in that corner of the Galaxy." He mentioned. It surely wasn't all that much nicer, but that all depended on which rung you clung to in the social hierarchy. Rook was looking to get paid, and so that meant Nar Shaddaa; called the Smuggler's Moon for good reason now. The Exchange owned some luxurious property, but everything outside of it was near hell. Anyone who'd heard of it was sure to know why.

"Why, you wanted to tag along?" She was easy on the eyes.

His teeth sunk into the fruit once more.
[member="Ayessa Kroan"]

 

[Ayessa Kroan]

Kiffu, 'The Spaceport', 08:00 AM Local Time
Interacting with [member="Rook Lokar"]
——————————————————————

A rumbling laughter left the Kiffar, which was a first. A first since-- Yeah. Since that. It was a little awkward but genuine, her squinting gaze looking over to him prior to her questioning but admittedly playful speech, "I've got everything I need right here. I'm not sure what Nar Shadaa would have for me." A familiar name but impossible to place. She had definitely never been. And if what she recalled was still true, that was a damn blessing. Kiffu didn't have much for her, truthfully, next to nothing -- But it seemed better than the prospects there.

Yes. She'd talked to his type before, that was crystal clear now. Worked with them, wore their mannerisms like a second skin, saw them inevitably fall. She was a little out of step but she could still dance and seemed all too eager to.

Her mouth twisted into a relatively dry smile once she finished speaking, coming to a stop as well in their short walk along the sandy street. Arms crossing out of habit or perhaps instinct, the unspoken second half to her statement hung in the air like the cold from the storm. Much like one is when they meet strangers, she was unsure of what he had to offer as well. Whether it was serious, whether it was teasing, whether it sat in that uncomfortable space in-between. And whether she would even spare it a second of thought. More thunder rumbled overhead, and a few bystanders wandered out of a nearby tavern, jovial in their tone.

 

[Rook Lokar]

"Yeah." Rook stated in confirmation, she was right. His head nodded back and forth a few times, pondering over his own time spent on Nar Shaddaa and how there wasn't ever much there for anybody but violence, drugs, and money. A winning combo, a dangerous combo. "I remember thinking that." He persisted in his speech. Now, it was he who was right. Nar Shaddaa never truly had much to offer on the surface level, but much like Coruscant everything worth knowing for the common individual was below the planet itself. Away from the sun and the rain, the storms and all. There's people who spent their entire lives down in those pits, and they'd not once ever seen the sun. A strange thought if there ever was one.

There was both teasing and seriousness in his speech. Vin claimed to get him a crew for the higher risk jobs that required more people, but Vin's people were the kind you didn't want to take so much of a second look at. Dangerous, never trustworthy. If Rook had it his way, he'd much rather do the choosing, but he didn't know all that very many people, now did he?

After another bite swallowed down, his eyes shifted to a Tavern that people seemed to be wandering from. The Smuggler flicked his left wrist so it could be looked directly at by his eyes whilst he leaned against the wall. It was early. It didn't stop him, though.

As Rook's eyes went from the Tavern, to his Chrono, to Ayessa he asked, "Can I buy you drink..." It settled in it was too early for that, "Or juice."

[member="Ayessa Kroan"]

 

[Ayessa Kroan]

Kiffu, 'The Spaceport', 08:00 AM Local Time
Interacting with [member="Rook Lokar"]
——————————————————————

A drink. Or juice. Resisting the urge to make an undignified noise that would reveal exactly how much that line had managed to tickle her, she shrugged noncommittally. Truthfully in her mind she had already agreed a dozen times over -- Liquid anything besides flat water would be a treat she didn't want to pass on, but she couldn't let a shred of that enthusiasm show lest she surrenders her hand. And whilst she'd never been the best at verbal Sabacc, she knew enough to keep a fine poker face, and to never show them your throat.

Ayessa's hand reached up to move a few loose strands of unruly hair from those appraising eyes and she let out a low sigh, finally nodding, as if she'd spent this entire time considering the pros and cons of Rook's opening offer, "Alright. Juice it is. The storms will go on for a while, anyway." She had absolutely no basis for that observation beyond gut instinct and overheard rumours, but, still. Best to sound smart. Best to sound like she actually knew anything of how Kiffu operated as a planet. Best to sound like she's actually a local and not a stranger. Turning on her heel with a posture that clearly spoke to an air of relative sophistication, despite her ramshackle appearance, the Kiffar girl moved towards the entrance to the small tavern, eyes looking back to him to ensure he was coming with.

Much like other dwellings on Kiffu the bar was well ventilated and short. Sand was inevitably tracked in from outside all over the plain durasteel floor, and it seemed suited to a smaller population judging by the size and the staff on hand. Which was what made the contrast of alien faces filling nearly all the booths to capacity so impressive, and it was guaranteed all of them were here because of the grounding. A booth sat near the door, empty, offering a mix of suitably dramatic lightning from slatted windows and isolation from the other occupants, and that was where she headed. Master tactician at work, clearly.

 

[Rook Lokar]

Rook didn't exactly care for concealing his emotions all that much. Wasn't much point in it as far as he was concerned. As a result, Rook flexed a grin at her response. Rejection stung no matter you were, who you asked, or what you asked. It all felt the same to one degree or another. Hardly helped that his expectations were oh so very low considering how early it was in the morning. Yet, one could suppose this was the Smuggler making his own luck through one scoundrel type action at a time. Of all things, it's likely that mattered the least, however.

He found that he'd reached the core of the fruit, lobbing the remnants of it into a nearby trashcan. His gaze was cast over the second fruit, wondering if he even wanted it anymore. The first one was rather sweet, and maybe he couldn't handle another one. Better keep it just in case, though.

"One moment." Rook said to the person who still happened to be a stranger before turning to face bar, walking towards it an air of confidence in his step. With all the aliens in here he might look out of place, but that wasn't the case. They were all his kind of people, spacers, smugglers, scoundrels and so on. Rook was more at home among these people than anywhere else. In time, he slinked into the booth, sliding Ayessa's drink towards her.

"So, got a name." He asked, fiddling with his own glass. It was probably best to ask that before any of this, right?

[member="Ayessa Kroan"]

 

[Ayessa Kroan]

Kiffu, 'The Spaceport', 08:00 AM Local Time
Interacting with [member="Rook Lokar"] ~ Trouble
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"Everyone has them, don't they?" Except some have numbers. The thought made something inside Ayessa's heart twitch. Forcing a smile, sat down with that same air of bravado among her that was displayed outside, and her fingers coiled around the glass. Images threatened to burst into her mind, her psychometry dancing along the edge of her subconscious and just begging to begin reading the memories of the glass, of who had last held it and who had held it before. But the best relations never started with someone prying too far into someone's mind. She had learned that very quickly as a Padawan, and it was a lesson that had stung.

Before she answered she took a sip of the fruity cocktail-- That was exactly what she needed --before setting the glass down, almost a little too hastily to avoid an episode of telemetry from breaking out. Her voice was smoother from the drink, revealing the inflexions of a Core Worlds accent. Coruscanti, by the sounds, "Ayessa, of clan Kroan. So, Ayessa Kroan, by your Human standards." Some Kiffar might have given odd looks to such a name, if only due to the antiquity of the title, but there were none nearby to scoff. That played to her advantage. The confused faces of a few fellow Kiffar she had met her first day home would probably never leave her mind. Clearing her throat a little after speaking she shifted a shoulder down slightly and raised her gaze from the table back to him, inquisitive, "And you?"

 

[Rook Lokar]

​His eyebrows were raised for the briefest of moments and he nodded his head down and to the right, accepting that maybe everyone does has a name. It was true. Everyone did, regardless of where they were from. An experiment or not, it was a name that they possessed. Rook was never one to really thing about it all, though. He'd been given a name at birth, and that's all that had concerned him on the topic of 'names'.

"Rook, of clan Lokar." He sarcastically replied. Surely not apart of any clan, nor had he ever been. The Smuggler had his own struggles, but they were a thing of the past, or so he thought. Now, he was in a position similar to Ayessa. He hadn't known anything of the wider galaxy, only the key figures in it and the stories he'd been told. Rook had that desire to see it all, but before any of that happened he got together with the wrong people. Such is life.

"Do you live on Kiffu, or are you just visiting yourself?" The Scoundrel asked with an inquisitive tone before taking a sip from the drink he'd ordered, the same as Ayessa's.

[member="Ayessa Kroan"]

 

[Ayessa Kroan]

Kiffu, 'The Spaceport', 08:00 AM Local Time
Interacting with [member="Rook Lokar"] ~ Trouble
——————————————————————

She could have answered any number of ways but chose a route with the least resistance, least lies, instead, "I was born here. I lived here, past-tense, not for long. But I am living here now." Vague enough to keep some cards to the chest but detailed enough to provide some explanation, it was the best Ayessa could manage given the circumstances.

So his name is Rook. An unremarkable name, really, if not a bit odd-- Wasn't that a piece in some Human game? --Ignoring the dry quip at the expense her own 'name', the Kiffar only smirked to finish her reply off as her ring finger lazily traced the rim of her cup. A nervous tic, maybe, or she was just looking for something to fidget with. Either way, she continued on without waiting on him to get a word in edgewise, "And I'll assume you don't live on Nar Shaddaa, so... Somewhere nice or somewhere not-so-nice?"

 

[Rook Lokar]

Hey, nothing remarkable about your name either. Don't have to get personal about it.

Rook sunk further into the booth itself, actually position himself against the wall rather than the seat. You could see more that way, really. And the more things to look at the better, or so that's how his impatient brain often functioned. Although, now he had someone to look at. All too much time had been spent traversing through First Order Space to avoid those Imperials and their death fleets. Kiffu, no matter how stormy and uneventful, was better than that.

The Smuggler almost scoffed with laughter at the thought of actually living somewhere. Instead an amused huff escaped his nose, just more breathing really. "Erh, not exactly." He initially began, propping his legs across the seat on his side of the booth. Allowing that drink to sit idly, in truth he wasn't actually very thirsty. He just needed an excuse. "The ship in 13-A, that's the closest thing to home." Rook continued with a smirk. There wasn't much else to his kind of people.

"What is it that you do here?" Maybe it didn't pay as well as a Smuggler's rate. Surely it wasn't as entertaining. That was all Rook could assume, though.

[member="Ayessa Kroan"]

 

[Ayessa Kroan]

Kiffu, 'The Spaceport', 08:00 AM Local Time
Interacting with [member="Rook Lokar"] ~ Trouble
——————————————————————

An expression akin to what a drowning person on land could look like appeared on her face for a second upon the mention of a role. She had a role. Had one. That odd face was gone as soon as it had arrived, though, visible for just a faction as cracks in her persona began to form. Slightly hunched over the table Ayessa lifted a shoulder and dropped it casually, resuming the dance once more, "Scavenger. I've been out of touch for a while. It's easy to get lost." Understatement of the century. But that was her first real lie and the tell was mildly evident, her hand reaching up to idly wipe at her nose before she took another sip of her juice. She was no mere scavenger.

Her mind hummed as she tried to recall which vessel Rook referred to, and she came up empty pretty fast. Not like she paid much attention to the ships in the hangers, anyways, they were so different to what she had come to know as 'familiar' she didn't even want to ask what they could do. But a nomad she could relatively sympathize with, or at least envy. Fingers tightened on the glass as another slow trickle of sensation ran through her. The crowd's emotions were like waves lapping at her beach, eroding away at her sand with each rhythmic pass of the waters. She was a couple hundred years out of practice. Let them pass through like travellers in your home. Do not betray a single shred of any outside feeling.

 

[Rook Lokar]

Rook couldn't even begin to understand what this empathic nonsense was all about. Maybe that's why she never mentioned it, or perhaps it was due to the current climate of Jedi in the Galaxy, or the one she left. Oh well, so be it. Rook stuck to darting his mind left and right, taking another sip as his hand took a firm grasp around the glass itself. The cold leaking onto his skin, but a refreshing one at that.

"Can't imagine there being a lot of things to scavenge here, or anything that's worth scavenging." The young man, who happened to be the same age as Ayessa, spoke. "There's more in the game of smuggling... anything, if you've got the stomach for it." Almost a proposition through his teasing manner, gauging in a playful manner. So far that was most of his interactions, too. Just a joke. He'd never really had to get all that serious just yet, other than when he was escaping that Geonosian Prison Train, but that's a story for another day.

[member="Ayessa Kroan"]

 

[Ayessa Kroan]

Kiffu, 'The Spaceport', 08:00 AM Local Time
Interacting with [member="Rook Lokar"] ~ Trouble
——————————————————————

Smuggling. Sure, she'd run a few blockades in her time; but those operations had the backing of the greatest longstanding democratic governmental body the galaxy had ever seen. And she had her men at her side. Sorely lacking for both, now. Well, there was now a man, at least. Singular. Offering her a job. Maybe they had more in common than she had assumed on the surface, or maybe this was all some great game and a dance it would remain, just another memory in this new existence. Ships in the night passing by. Letting out a casual exhale the Kiffar briefly rubbed at her nose again, looking at him over her eyelashes with an unreadable expression, "Do you always hire crew members right off the street?"

Her voice matched his, the same energy and teasing in it, but her own test lay within. If she was going to throw potential loyalty to a cause, or in this case an individual, she wanted to make sure they were a-hundred-percent-sure of what they were getting into. They were some things that would have to be... Explained... Later, but that could wait. Until later.

What Rook didn't know might not hurt him, for now.

 

[Rook Lokar]

"Actually." The Smuggler initially began, rising up properly within his seat whilst shifting his legs back beneath the table. "I've never hired anybody before." Saying that aloud probably wasn't the greatest of ideas in hindsight. Didn't exactly inspire confidence, now did it? The only thing that made anyone ever believe Rook was that he always felt so sure of himself, and with that came the sense of 'yeah he knows what he's doing', but the reality couldn't be further from the truth. Rook was prone to getting in over his head, finding himself in a situation he lied himself into only to lie himself back out of it. It's how he met Vin, after all. From there it'd been some rather smooth sailing and only a few holes managed to get in the sails.

Maybe he was just too stubborn to let Vinon hire him a crew, the kind to live a portion of their lives on his ship. Just didn't feel right. Much rather have someone he chose himself, and some Kiffar who happened to be easy on the eyes seemed better than that Trandoshan who had so many scars he may as well lose that limb and regrow a fresh one.

The explanation picked back up, "Y'see, I got a few jobs I need to do. Vin wants to hire a crew for me, but I'd rather hire my own." It was really that simple, and not thought out too much at all. None of it was a lie, but it easily could've been. Rook wasn't exactly honest, but there was always time for something new.

[member="Ayessa Kroan"]

 

[Ayessa Kroan]

Kiffu, 'The Spaceport', 08:00 AM Local Time
Interacting with [member="Rook Lokar"] ~ Trouble
——————————————————————

Well. That was a thing, wasn't it? His bluntness caught her off-guard, but it was more honest than she could bring herself to be. How else does one eloquently put, 'Well, I can relate, I was put in charge of an entire army in a conflict that led to nothing except the deaths of everyone I've ever known and loved!' It doesn't quite roll off the tongue, or at least, roll off hers'.

She had to at least admit that this was all a little intriguing. Something inside coaxing her to go along with it, even for a while, just to escape. Maybe it was loneliness. Kiffu was undeniably lonely. And sitting by the bones of her ancestors and relatives wasn't something she could do forever, it wasn't sustainable, even if it was numbing in the way she needed it to be. No, she needed something new now. He could be the something new.

Maybe this was the Force's grand design for her. If it was so far, she wanted to talk with the artist, because at the moment it was abstract bullchit.

"Vin's your boss, I'm guessing. And what makes you think I have any skills whatsoever to offer your crew as it's, what, first member?"

 

[Rook Lokar]

"That's the thing." Rook started, leaning forwards as if it both gauge her attention and sound as if he was truly confident in the idea he had planned. "I don't actually need you, or anyone." Little arrogant, maybe a bit more than just a little. "I can do it all myself, the thing is I need a crew. They won't let me complete these jobs without one. So, really, I just need you to fill in a spot. You know, stand there and look pretty. Can't be hard, right?"

Delivery could've been smoother, much smoother in fact. Pondering on whether it was worth going back in time to fix that little solution, only to find that such a thing wasn't even on the menu. Oh well, it was said and done and with any luck she'd accept a job offer to do nothing but stand there and get paid for it. There'd likely be some strange adventures, but that was the life of a Smuggler. At least that's what Rook told himself.

[member="Ayessa Kroan"]