Televising the Revolution
The air on Karlinus was much different than Coruscant, even more than the air on the ship he used to get here. It felt lighter, less acidic than the smog that encapsulated the city-planet. The air wasn't even close to being the biggest culture shock to MacTavish. He stepped off his ship onto the grassy planet, and instead of the sturdy, reinforced duracrete that made up the towering behemoth that was Coruscant and every spaceport along the way, there was give beneath his boots. This was the first real time MacTavish had felt dirt under his feet, real dirt, not something flown in from another planet.
The overwhelming scenery wasn't going to break him, however. Even if this was his first time feeling loamy ground, he had to focus on his mission. MacTavish was a man scorned by the Imperials, scorned by the Sith, scorned by every malevolent force in the galaxy, he was on a mission. Before he left the last space station, one of the other freedom fighters had mentioned Karlinus, saying there were people here who fought the good fight. They said if Tav helped them, they would likely help him, and they scraped together enough fuel to get him to the planet. And off MacTavish went, headfirst into the galaxy.
Taking another deep breath, feeling his lungs expand, MacTavish stepped forward from the grass and back onto the streets outside the spaceport. His blue eyes took in everything at once. He may not be on Coruscant, but people all worked the same wherever you were. MacTavish had been given a name-
Miraya Thaine
- and a location- The Weathered Bantha. It was up to the Rodian to do the rest, so he started how he knew how: by being underestimated.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he asked, trying to play up his naivety, a cupped finger tapping a woman on the shoulder. She turned to look at the man, his short frame coming to just over her own. A look of bewilderment crossed her face as she saw MacTavish's features didn't match the voice.
"A Rodian?!" She stepped back, as though upset he had touched her. Her gaze, even if she was looking slightly up at him, felt like she was staring down from the top of a tower. "But you spoke Basic so well!" Her casual racism came out dressed as a compliment. This was right where he wanted them. They now saw him as an intelligent Rodian rather than a dangerous one. He even used a special cologne that masked the natural Rodian scent that Humans found repugnant.
"I didn't mean to alarm you, ma'am. I'm looking for The Weathered Bantha. I'm supposed to start my first day working there." It honestly disgusted him how thick he was laying it on. Hopefully older women on Karlinus had a soft spot for helpless Rodians like they did on Coruscant.
"The Weathered Bantha?" She scoffed. "I thought you were different, but you're all the same. You'll start to smell the rest of your people when you get about five streets over." She rolled her eyes and hurried off, like she was afraid of the same Rodian she had just spoken down to. He was used to it at this point, but it always stung a little. He let out an exhausted sigh as he continued forward, heading down the road toward his destination. He was excited to see what a bar on Karlinus looked like, and also curious to see how they knew what a bantha was.
The overwhelming scenery wasn't going to break him, however. Even if this was his first time feeling loamy ground, he had to focus on his mission. MacTavish was a man scorned by the Imperials, scorned by the Sith, scorned by every malevolent force in the galaxy, he was on a mission. Before he left the last space station, one of the other freedom fighters had mentioned Karlinus, saying there were people here who fought the good fight. They said if Tav helped them, they would likely help him, and they scraped together enough fuel to get him to the planet. And off MacTavish went, headfirst into the galaxy.
Taking another deep breath, feeling his lungs expand, MacTavish stepped forward from the grass and back onto the streets outside the spaceport. His blue eyes took in everything at once. He may not be on Coruscant, but people all worked the same wherever you were. MacTavish had been given a name-
Miraya Thaine
- and a location- The Weathered Bantha. It was up to the Rodian to do the rest, so he started how he knew how: by being underestimated."Excuse me, ma'am," he asked, trying to play up his naivety, a cupped finger tapping a woman on the shoulder. She turned to look at the man, his short frame coming to just over her own. A look of bewilderment crossed her face as she saw MacTavish's features didn't match the voice.
"A Rodian?!" She stepped back, as though upset he had touched her. Her gaze, even if she was looking slightly up at him, felt like she was staring down from the top of a tower. "But you spoke Basic so well!" Her casual racism came out dressed as a compliment. This was right where he wanted them. They now saw him as an intelligent Rodian rather than a dangerous one. He even used a special cologne that masked the natural Rodian scent that Humans found repugnant.
"I didn't mean to alarm you, ma'am. I'm looking for The Weathered Bantha. I'm supposed to start my first day working there." It honestly disgusted him how thick he was laying it on. Hopefully older women on Karlinus had a soft spot for helpless Rodians like they did on Coruscant.
"The Weathered Bantha?" She scoffed. "I thought you were different, but you're all the same. You'll start to smell the rest of your people when you get about five streets over." She rolled her eyes and hurried off, like she was afraid of the same Rodian she had just spoken down to. He was used to it at this point, but it always stung a little. He let out an exhausted sigh as he continued forward, heading down the road toward his destination. He was excited to see what a bar on Karlinus looked like, and also curious to see how they knew what a bantha was.