Private One Man's Trash

[Persephone Dashiell]

ZORONHEAD, DECOMMISSIONED CITADEL

Persephone was back on Zonjou V. An interesting little planet in her opinion. There was an dangerous undercurrent. Smugglers, pirates(ugh), criminals and shady-types of all sorts used it as a passthrough. Yet then there was a much brighter side. Everyday citizens. Traders. Pioneers. Scholarly types who came to research ruins.

An odd mix but it gave the planet a buzz. Something she couldn’t describe. Something that made her feel as if she could come back again and again. Given the last time she was here it was a disaster, Persephone was eager to come back and go inside the ruins once again. Different ruins but the same excitement was still there.

“There’s so much leftover from the Kathol days, plus what was there before them. Naturally, a lot of people have raided the ruins. The Kathol obviously had their own agenda. Positive they raided the caves and ruins. Then all the criminals out here but that’s even better.”

Persephone didn’t wait for him to ask why. Or how. Instead with a small beat to catch her breath she continued.

“Even better because if criminals are using the ruins to hide out in, that means they bring their stuff. Stuff that gets left behind as they get killed. Stuff we’re going to find and liberate for our own.”

Liberate was a much better word than stealing or theft. A word a lady like herself would use. She was coming to learn the work of a ‘treasure hunter’ was all about framing finds in the right way. When it came down to it, she didn’t see it much different than actual theft - beyond a bit better moral compass.

They were walking away from their transport vessel, the Citadel looming in the background. A dusty trail left by speederbikes and animals marked the way towards a stretch of ruins built into one of the canyon walls. The sun was rising in the mid-morning sky, already beating down hot on them in the arid desert environment. Not her favorite place to be - too dusty, too hot, too dirty but one had to go where the artifacts were.

Critical blue eye crossed over Kiran. Lingering much longer than one just observing. Head tilted up and down, assessing. There was a long pause, bordering on the uncomfortable.

“Did you do something to your hair? It actually looks good. Suits you.” A small pause. "Keep it that way."

Kiran Arlos​

 

[Kiran Arlos]

Kiran Arlos
​

Kiran felt the heat first the kind that settled into his jacket and refused to leave. Even with the breeze rolling through the canyon, the air tasted like dust and sun-baked stone. Zonjou V wasn't beautiful in the traditional sense, but it had a kind of grit he respected. The place felt alive in its own way: half scholar, half scoundrel. He could see why Persephone liked it. The kind of planet where someone could disappear into the noise, or make a name for themselves if they were clever enough.

Her voice carried ahead of him, clear even over the crunch of gravel under their boots. He listened, half a smile tugging at his mouth as she spoke about the Kathol ruins and their layers of conquest and rediscovery. There was always something magnetic about the way she talked about history practical, almost predatory, yet threaded with fascination.

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Liberate, huh? That's one way to put it. Remind me to use that next time someone accuses me of breaking and entering." Still, there was admiration in his tone. She had that balance bold enough to walk into danger, smart enough to make it sound like an opportunity.

The trail wound toward the canyon wall, the ruins barely visible yet, just a jagged mouth in the rock where shadow met light. The transport's engines hummed faintly behind them, fading as they moved farther away. Kiran adjusted the strap of his pack and glanced sideways at her. The reflection of the sun caught in her hair, turning the dust motes into sparks. She was in her element again, and it showed.

When her gaze turned on him, it was sharp and deliberate. He felt it before she spoke the way her eyes lingered, assessing, like she was taking stock of something that didn't quite fit.

For a heartbeat, he froze caught between confusion and amusement. He ran a self-conscious hand through his hair, suddenly aware of how the wind had tousled it. "Uh… yeah." he said, voice dipping into a quiet laugh. "Guess I trimmed it a little since the dig site. Didn't realize I'd passed inspection though. You really like it?"

When she added, "Keep it that way," his grin widened, more genuine this time. "Yes, ma'am. Wouldn't want to ruin my professional treasure-hunter aesthetic." He let the teasing hang for a moment before his tone softened. "But thanks. Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment."

Kiran adjusted his pack again, glancing toward her with an easy smile. "So." he said, "What's the plan? We 'liberating' relics or hunting trouble first?"

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

"If I didn't like it, I would have told you. Fashion is an extremely serious business. I don't joke or lie when it comes to personal appearance."

On that front, she was a little cut-throat. Persephone liked to look a certain way. Clean clothes. Well conditioned and poised hair. A tinted lipgloss. Manicured nails. As such she expected others in her orbit to at least meet her halfway. Even now her little sister Phoebe wore nailpolish more days than not and she was just a little kid.

"It is a compliment and you're welcome. I wouldn't say treasure hunter just more....dashing teenage boy."

Persephone didn't want to utter the word handsome. Kiran Arlos was easy on the eyes, one would have to be extremely blind not to notice. Yet saying that out loud? To him? It just invited disaster. Especially since she didn't really know him. Or completely trust him. Or even have a good read on him. Mysterious but not in a cute way, more of a frustrating way.

"I never go hunting for trouble Kiran."

Head craned up as they approached the entrance on the side of the red cliffs. It was carved and shimmered with multiple colors. Almost painted but it was clearly a mineral from the environment, either washed over the surface or mixed in. The sides were crumbling and some of the stone steps but the entrance looked almost as if it could have been completed a year ago.

It meant not many had been inside. Or if they had been they didn't trash the place. Persephone hated seeing graffiti in historical places. There was a time and place for everything and ruins weren't it.

"We're looking for treasure of course. Now, I know nothing of this place beyond what the Kathol did here but....always up for looking around. Documenting our findings at the very least."

 

[Kiran Arlos]

Persephone Dashiell
​

Kiran couldn't help but grin as she delivered her declaration about fashion with the same gravity one might use for discussing battle tactics. "Noted," he said, amusement flickering in his voice. "Next time I risk a haircut, I'll make sure to clear it through the Persephone Dashiell Style Authority first." He gestured vaguely toward her immaculate attire, how even here, under the scorching sun and clinging dust, she somehow looked composed, deliberate. "You make it look easy." he added, quieter, a trace of sincerity slipping through before he could stop it.

Her next words "dashing teenage boy" landed like a carefully aimed shot. Kiran raised a brow, the grin returning full force. "Dashing teenage boy? That's what we're going with?" His tone was light, teasing, but his eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary. Persephone always did that, kept just enough distance, as if refusing to let her thoughts give too much away. He respected that about her, even if it made her impossible to read.

"I'll take it." he said finally, chuckling as he fell into step beside her again. "Beats being called a 'guy who hauls buckets.' Though I feel like you downgraded my job title just to keep me humble."

Her response 'I never go hunting for trouble, Kiran' made him laugh under his breath. "No, of course not." he said dryly. "Trouble just follows you around, probably drawn by the scent of your nail polish."

The humor faded slowly as the canyon opened up before them. The ruins rose from the stone like something half-remembered, half-dreamed, walls carved with intricate patterns, the mineral-rich surface catching the light and throwing it back in deep reds and muted golds. The air cooled near the entrance, the dry wind threading through the fractures in the rock, carrying with it the faint echo of something ancient.

Kiran slowed, eyes tracing the sharp lines of the architecture. "This place…" he murmured, mostly to himself. "Doesn't look like the usual Kathol design. Too… careful. Like they were building on something older."

He stepped closer, his boots crunching softly against the sand and gravel. There was something mesmerizing about it, the way time had worn the place down, yet left it somehow untouched. No scrawled names, no empty cans or litter. Just silence and history breathing through the stone.

Kiran nodded, his expression thoughtful now. "Treasure, documentation, hidden chambers, it's all the same to me," he said. "You lead, I'll follow. Just promise me that if we find any curses or ancient traps, you'll let me be the first to trigger them. Seems only fair since you're the brains of this operation."

"Alright, Persephone." he said, voice low but warm. "Let's go liberate some history."

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

"I make it look easy because I've had a lot of practice and effort."

Just like anything in life one had to practice and study a subject to get good at it. Fashion was in no way any different. Persephone had considered going into fashion as a career, even did an internship for two years surrounding textiles. Yet she felt it would crush her love of all things glamorous so best to stick to another lane.

"Material Relocation Specialist...not boy who hauls buckets. Besides, what's wrong with staying humble? You ever seen someone with a big ego? Its very exhausting for one. Two it doesn't really become you. Even if the humble thing is an act, stick with it." Then there was a roll of her eyes. "Nail polish smells horrible. See? You're not making any sense. Probably too much blood in those new muscles and not enough in your brain."

As they approached, Persephone noted how much different this ruin looked compared to the last she had just explored on the very same planet. Different group? Or different purpose? The last she had visited was much more scholarly in nature. As if it had been a government complex or school or some sort. This? This gave the vibe of something religious, especially with all the colors. Delineated it was something much more special than the library she had raided.

"That's because the Kathol didn't create this - they just set up shop on the planet. Mainly in that decommissioned citadel behind us. Now if I had to guess...looks religious. So spiritual ceremonies. Or a tomb for the above average person. Just a word of note I don't raid things from tombs...taking from the dead? Asking for trouble. If that's the case we can just look around."

Without waiting for another moment, she passed inside the archway, entering the cool stone ruins.

​

Kiran Arlos

 

[Kiran Arlos]

Persephone Dashiell
​

Kiran followed her into the shade of the ruins, the shift from the scorching canyon sun to the cool interior like stepping into another world. The air inside was different still, heavy, and filled with that faint mineral scent of old stone and time-worn dust. He let the silence stretch, his gaze moving over the walls etched with symbols that glimmered faintly in the filtered light. He wasn’t going to deny that the area looked amazing.

Her words from moments ago still lingered, threading through his thoughts about practice, effort, ego, humility. She said it all so matter-of-factly, but there was something underneath it: discipline, maybe, or the unspoken edge of experience that came from having to hold yourself together when others didn’t. Kiran had seen that look before in people who built armor out of control. And Persephone? She wore it with polish.

He smirked faintly to himself. “Material Relocation Specialist. Got it. Has a better ring to it than ‘bucket boy.’ although I’ve never had an issue with being humble, I’ve never been one to pretend I’m more than I actually am.”

When she rolled her eyes and shot back the line about nail polish and blood flow, he laughed quietly, the sound low but genuine. “Hey, I can multitask. Muscles and brains. Though I’ll admit, you’re far better at the planning part."

When Persephone explained her theory, the religious nature, the potential tomb. He listened in silence, watching the way she studied the space, sharp eyes catching patterns he might have missed. She had that same focus she always did when work took over: precise, deliberate, seeing connections invisible to others. “Religion makes sense,” he said finally, his voice quiet, respectful in the stillness. “Feels… intentional. Too careful to just be shelter or storage. And yeah, I’m with you on the tombs.” He tilted his head toward her, his expression softening. “You don’t take from the dead. Some things aren’t worth the bad luck or the nightmares.”

He stepped forward, past a fractured column, and glanced down a narrow hallway where faint light filtered through cracks above. The passage looked untouched, or nearly so, no scorch marks from blasters, no signs of vandalism, just centuries of quiet decay.

“Guess that rules out robbing graves.” he said, glancing back with a grin that didn’t quite mask the awe in his tone. “But if this place was for ceremonies, maybe there’s something left inscriptions, relics, even murals. Something the Kathol didn’t understand.”

For a long moment, he just stood there, letting the quiet hum of the ruin sink in. Dust motes drifted through the shafts of light, slow and weightless.

Then, looking back toward her silhouette framed in the archway, posture confident and curious in his opinion, he said softly. “Lead the way, Persephone. You’ve got the better instincts for this than I do.”

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

Regarding his words, Kiran Arlos said something that gave her an opening. Perhaps not the best time to ask, considering the fit her last friend threw in such a ruins. All over a rodent. Persephone didn't know how to feel about that and frankly, it was his loss. Her mind was drifting too far now and she focused back on the present.

"Who are you really?"

She expected no answer. In fact, most of her expectations were in hell at this point. A grunt she would take as a sign of intelligence. Not that her standards had been lowered, oh no, they were higher than ever. More the fact it seemed she was being continually disappointed. Couldn't be disappointed if she didn't expect a single thing from anyone.

Shaking her head ever so slightly to clear her thoughts of her new philosophy, her gaze refocused on the colorful clay and openings in the cliffside. Light was pouring into the space, almost acting as if where they were standing was a lobby or receiving room. Even if it wasn't religious, perhaps it had been a residence of an ancient royal being.

"Certainly intentional. Also yes, plenty to explore even if its a tomb or catacomb." Persephone paused, chuckling a little. "Nightmares are the least of my concerns. Nightmares....nightmares don't really exist.You can wake up from those. It's reality you have to watch out for."

Looking around one more time as if to decide direction, Persephone turned to Zee.

"Zee, go ahead and begin recording. This may already be documented but who knows - cross reference the HoloNet and DarkNet for any information."

[ Starting now Miss Persephone. ]

She turned to Kiran once again and nodded to the left corridor.

"Let's go this way. Studies have proved most people don't take the left often. Might more for us to see."

 

[Kiran Arlos]

Persephone Dashiell
​

Kiran pauses beneath the painted lintel, the ruins breathing cool air around him, and for once the usual grin is gone. He runs a hand through his hair because Persephone noticed it, because the wind did a favor and the motion feels oddly like a hinge opening. He looks at her straight on, no joke ready, no sideways quip. The canyon light cuts her profile into hard planes and he thinks, not for the first time, that honesty might be the only decent thing left to offer.

"I don't really know who I am."

The words leave him quieter than he expected. They hang in the lobby of the ruin like dust motes, drifting in the shaft of light Zee has just started to record. Kiran can hear his own voice and it sounds smaller than usual, as if the echo here is used to older, heavier truths. "I don't know the center, there's a piece missing, an axis almost as if I keep turning and my thoughts can't find the correct stopping point. It blurs when I try to think past a certain point, the stories don't end up lining up and its slightly frustrating. Well, its entirely frustrating, to not know who you really are. You know what I mean?"

Kiran realizes it hurts, more than he expected. Not because of the not-knowing itself, he's long been used to piecing things together on the fly, but because he doesn't have an anchor. He's become good at fitting into other people's stories: the friend who cracks jokes, the kid who can charm a vendor, the guy who hauls buckets when asked. Those roles are useful. They keep him fed. They make him decent company. But they aren't a map back to himself.

"I've seen enough of both to know they blur, yet reality is messier." He chuckles lightly. "And less forgiving. You are correct that nightmares you can wake from, sometimes reality doesn't let you close your eyes."


He looked at Persephone again, as she chose the left path and he smiled and simply nodded his head. Anything would do. For now, the ruins take in his confession like a stone does the rain, quietly, without answer. "If you're still willing to trust a dashing material relocation specialist with a hole in his center, I'll follow where you lead."

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

"No, I know what you mean."

Persephone was quiet for a long moment. She had expected Kiran Arlos to come back with a different answer. He seemed a different type of guy - one that at least had an inkling of who he was. At least had a small idea of what he stood for. Knowing how he answered, she regarded him as a flag, flapping in the breeze as if he didn't know which was the true direction.

"It seems to me." Persephone started softly, not wanting to seem as if she was demanding or making assumptions. "That maybe, just maybe, you need to spend some time figuring out who Kiran is. I think...no, I know...life is only going to get harder from here. The older you get. Not having a sense of self can lead to all sorts of negative directions. Such as becoming a pirate, no one likes a pirate."

A bit biased on the pirate front, but the sentiment still stood.

Picking the lefthand path, they began to walk, Zee trailing. It often too the droid a moment to record and also take measurements of the room. Although the droid was advanced, he was also very picky about being precise.

"Funny you mention that, I don't trust you." Might as well be upfront about the situation. If Kiran was going to go crazy Zee wasn't that far behind. Not that she suspected he would, but she had seen a lot. She had seen zero to sixty several times in life. "Ever since you hit the bulkhead.I..."

Persephone struggled a moment before sighing, realizing she was already on a road to where she had to voice her concerns.

"...I've seen that kind of thing before. Its...it's never a good ending."

 

[Kiran Arlos]

Persephone Dashiell
​

Kiran walked beside her, the sound of their footsteps mixing with the low hum of Zee’s sensors. The corridor narrowed here, the stone walls close enough that their voices came back in a soft echo, like the ruin itself was listening. He didn’t interrupt her, just let the words come, measured and careful the way she always spoke when it mattered.

When she finished, he drew a long breath and exhaled slowly. “Fair.” he said after a moment. “You don’t have to trust me.”

His tone wasn’t defensive, if anything, it carried the weight of quiet understanding. He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze tracing the faint carvings along the walls as they walked. “You’re not wrong about any of it. I do need to figure out who I am, but the truth is, I don’t even know where to start. Every time I think I’ve got something, some piece that feels real it slips. Like sand through your fingers.”

He paused, glancing over at her with a faint, crooked smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And pirates? Yeah, no. That’s not me. Smugglers, maybe. Scavenger, sure. But pirates…” he shook his head, “I’ve seen enough of those to know better.”

They walked on, deeper into the left corridor. The air cooled further, and the light from outside narrowed to slivers cutting across the dust. Zee’s sensors flickered in the dimness, projecting faint blue outlines across the walls.

When Persephone mentioned the bulkhead incident, his steps slowed. The memory of it came unbidden, the noise, the flash, the sudden loss of control. He winced, jaw tightening. “Yeah.” he said quietly, “That wasn’t… my best moment. I'm sorry if it scared you, or something of that sort.”

He swallowed, eyes focused ahead now, though his voice dropped low. “You’re right to be cautious. Whatever that was, it wasn’t normal. I’ve tried to make sense of it since, even since i was younger. It felt like something inside me just… snapped loose. Not anger exactly, not fear either. Just this, void. Like something else was steering for a second.”

Kiran didn't know where it came from, what was scary was that if he wanted to, he couldn't put a much larger dent into that bulkhead. "I don't know where that, strength comes from."

He let out a humorless laugh. “So yeah. You don’t trust me. I get that. I wouldn’t either if I were you.”

The sound of their boots filled the silence for a while before he spoke again. “But for what it’s worth, Persephone… I don’t want to be that kind of person. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to lose control like that again. I just...” he searched for the words. “Want to know why it happens. Why I happen.”

He reached up to touch one of the carved symbols in the wall, his fingers hovering just short of the surface. “Maybe that’s what this all is for. Every dig, every ruin, every broken thing we chase. Maybe I’m not just looking for pieces of the past—I’m trying to find the one that fits me.”

He looked back at her, a flicker of earnestness cutting through the guarded calm. “You don’t have to trust me. Just… don’t give up on me either?” He let the question hang, because that is what it was a question. He knew all too well she could ask him to leave and never come back and he would do it. He just really hope she didn't, she was his first real friend he ever had since he left Corellia.

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

Listening, Persie wasn't judging, just trying to get a better handle on the situation. She enjoyed the company of Kiran Arlos but the fact he had dented the bulkhead - nothing but caution ever since. The clarity was appreciated but also concerning. If Kiran felt he wasn't in control in those moments then there was nothing to stop him from turning his anger elsewhere. Growing up in a situation where there was domestic abuse, Persephone wasn't going to let the same thing happen to herself. It probably helped she wasn't a drug addled working girl, growing up she had noticed having a clear mind made a world of difference.

"Have you ever thought about, I don't know, taking some time off and getting it investigated? Seems a little serious. If you're working for Makai then it means you have access to PharmaTech. Some of the best in the industry. Not saying they would figure it out but maybe it would be a start. Genetic testing even. Maybe you're a super hybrid species and don't even know it."

Thinking Kiran would find her crazy, she shrugged.

"My little sister is two species and you would never know it. Even I'm distantly Hapan. Just...don't discredit the idea. Especially considering how easy genetic testing is. Unless you're one of those macho guys who just happens to be scared of needles."

Shoulder bumped into his as he mentioned not giving up on him. It was the 'either' portion that got her. Who else had given up on him? His family was dead, that much she did remember. Maybe kicked out of the house by an Uncle or relative he had been sent to live with? The orphanage? Or maybe he had been more street kid like herself. Once her mother had passed it was as if she become invisible. No one looked after her because no one cared to. Her only saving grace had been the gumption to do things on her own.

"No, not giving up on you....but I think maybe you should listen to my advice. That maybe its time to take a moment and figure out yourself....and, if credits are an issue I can always loan you."

Persie would be happy to just give them but something told her Kiran wouldn't accept such an offer unless she said loan.

"Again, something to consider."