Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Roon'in On Empty [Var Talon]

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Gholodreine Space Port
= Dock 17A =

Varion Talon Varion Talon

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[I've thought of a name for the ship.]

"Hit me."

[Nevem Nescio.]

"...what's it mean?"

[I don't know.]

"...I don't know?"

[Exactly. In two languages.]

Snort.

The AT-120 Freighter sat hunkered dockside like a disgruntled alligator swarmed by symbiotic cleaner birds. The shipyards were noisy, as they were want to be, and the current team of droids buzzing about the freighter could be described in nothing less than terms of frenetic busy-ness. Sparks flew from the hull in several places, carrier carts hauled cargo boxes up the side ramp, the dock manager belched orders to the mechanics.

But inside the ship? The low melody of an old Corellian tune buzzed from the control room. Hazel leaned back in the Captain's chair, boots kicked up on the command console, waiting for the all-clear from the dock manager.

And also for her new traveling companion.

"It's a bit ... fancy for this bird."

[I revert to my previous suggestion of Boulder.]

"Denied for the second time."

[I ... there is a problem on the cargo bay ramp.]

"What's the problem?"

[Biggs is eating a repair droid.]

"Dammit not again..." and out of her seat she climbed to wrangle the hungry beast.
 
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ALL ABOARD

The plume billowed skyward.

After having been given a shore day by the Confederacy, the Echani had come into contact with a similar soul. Mercenary. No stranger to loss. Exceptional taste in liquor. Because of this, Var assumed that she probably wouldn't take issue with one of his particular vices. That being sucking on the end of a cigarra for a hot minute. However. It was one thing to smoke in public, it was another to fill someone's personal ship with the smell. So, while the freighter was being loaded with her cargo - and his own promised crate of liquor - Var stood just outside the entry ramp.

He got his last few puffs in, all whilst faffing about on his personal datapad.

The chat from the previous evening had made him think of home. Think of family. Enough so that he sent a brief missive over to one of his surviving siblings: Srina Talon Srina Talon . It was short. Sweet. Got the point across.

[ Get a cooking Droid. ]

The meaning? He was alive. And sassy enough to roast her for her awful cooking, even when he was a Galaxy away. With a smirk, he hit send and flicked the butt of the cigarra away. He ascended the ramp right away, pausing only when Biggs - the famous bundle of fluff - came bounding forward with a Droid's leg in its mouth.

"...Uhhh...fetch?"

Hazel Scheler Hazel Scheler
 
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Biggs lived up to his name. The combination of extreme shag coat, oversized ram horns, gaping muzzle, and dinner-plate sized paws made for nothing short of a big boi. He filled the entryway of the cargo hold with little effort, and turned to the sound of the stranger's voice with a guttural rumble so resonant it might have been responsible for the sudden divergence of nearby droids. When he lifted his head he could just nearly look Varion Talon Varion Talon in the eye on level ground.

That massive jaw clenched down on the droid caught within it, which beeped its last boop before fizzling out of commission.

"Hey hey hey!" Hazel appeared from within the hold and grabbed the beast by the horn, "Dammit Biggs, that's two today. Here, het het," she offered up a large leg bone complete with marrow and clinging tendons as a trade. Biggs promptly dropped the droid and mawed at the bone.

"Ya jerk, I'll be lucky if they let me dock here again. Get your hairy ass inside -" her gaze shifted to the man standing at the foot of the ramp surrounded by a fading cloud of smoke, "you too. Fixing to leave shortly." Smirk.

No need to ask if he had everything he needed. The man struck her as someone who traveled light.
 
ALL ABOARD

...That's a big ass dog.

In that moment, Var recalled just how Hazel had described Biggs. She used him as a foot rest if memory served, so clearly he wasn't a lap dog. What Var wasn't expecting was something that looked like it could be armored and sent into fething battle. He made a mental note to pick three up. He watched, slightly amused, as the Droid was executed by Biggs' maw. Only for Hazel to offer a fitting trade for its remains. A big ass bone for a big ass dog.

"If I break one, can I get a bone too?"

Chuckling aloud, Var strode fully inside at her direction. With the exception of his datapad, the man had a small pack slung over his shoulder. Nothing that would take up too much space. The Echani did take a knee beside the fallen Droid, looking it over. "Eh, damage ain't too bad. Got a 'spanner? I can at least have it limping out of here in five."

Better than paying for a full replacement.

Hazel Scheler Hazel Scheler


[/indent]
 
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Following her guest into the cargo bay, Hazel turned her attention to placing the last few supply boxes. The merc laughed into the corner while she fixed a crate into place with securing straps, "You'll have to fight Biggs for it, he doesn't share well. Biggest bastard of the litter. If he keeps growing I'm going to have to invest in a bigger ship."

Reading between the lines suggested that Biggs was not yet fully grown.

Spanner? Spanner. "Think so...there's a tool case built-in up front of the bay--oh hey, Mik," Hazel brushed past Var and nudged the dead droid out of sight behind a nearby stack of crates with her boot, "didn't your boys fix the comm array? I just tried to get a message out and nothins-doin."

The dock manager bungled through his notes on a datapad, yapping at her in a local trade tongue.

"Well let's just take another look," Hazel shooed him away from the cargo ramp and threw glance at Var before disappearing back outside to buy some time.
 
ALL ABOARD

Biggs was still growing?!

As the mercenary revealed the terrifying truth about her furry companion, the Echani's eyebrows shot into the air. All the while, the beast hovered over the bone, slobbering and chomping away. For some odd reason, this just made Var want one all the more. "...Could you ride Biggs when he's grown?" he asked.

Then came the matter of the broken Droid. Hazel directed Var towards the built-in tool case, and he wasted no time in heading over. Whilst he rummaged about, finding the tools he needed, the mercenary sent the dock head on his way. Only a matter of time before he came back, so Var went to work. The Droid had certainly seen better days - even before Biggs got his teeth in him.

"Fortunately, this one's a piece of chit regardless. Already fethed before Biggs put it down." he grumbled. A few twists here, a new wire there and bam! The Droid's photoreceptor flickered back on. The finishing touch was a dramatic surgery. Var produced his lightsaber, turned on the blade, and used it to melt the end of the stub. He then stuck the lost limb back in place.

"There ya go little bud. Off ya get." he said, giving the Droid a pat before sending it on its way.

Hazel Scheler Hazel Scheler
 
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Hazel was not present in the hold for the reanimation of the sorry little repair droid, but she did reappear up the cargo hold ramp a moment later and gave a quick glance around.

"Are we good? Yes? Ok, let's get the feth out of here before he charges me for anything else." She stamped a finger at the ramp control panel and strode away to the sweet, melodious sound of gears whirring it shut.

"How are we looking, Brom?"

"All systems Green, Miss Scheler," a male voice sounded over the ship's intercom, oddly human for what was likely an AI, "Shall I commence departure?"

"Let's gooo. Get us out of here while I show our guest around."

"Are you going to introduce me?"

"Var - Brom, Brom - Var," Hazel gestured to the general vicinity of the ship around them, "Brom is the ship's AI."

"Welcome aboard, Var. Crew quarters are clean, freshly stocked, and ready to house you."

"Not much to see but I'll show you where you can drop your things," Hazel ascended a short open-grate set of stairs to a catwalk above the hold and lead the way into the main hall at the top, "crew quarters to your left, fresher to the right, kitchen to the left there, and that's me on the right at the end."

The ship rocked beneath their feet, a heavy thrumming vibration running along the bulkhead as the engines fired up. The slow and gentle sway followed the freighters slow progress out of the dock and into open space. Inside it looked as though the ship itself couldn't have been too old - at least in comparison to the outter facade which deliberately appeared aged, battle worn, and pock-marked. Aside from some obvious signs that a massive, beastly dog lived there with her (some fuzzy tumbleweeds could be seen rolling along the hallway edges) it had a light, welcoming air to it.

One might even say it had a gentle Lightside ambiance.
 
ALL ABOARD

With the restoration of the Droid complete, there was no time wasted on getting the heck out of dodge. Hazel shut the ramp faster than Var could blink and promptly addressed someone named Brom. The Echani raised an eyebrow, as he had only been informed about Biggs ahead of time. Yet, in short order, the mystery was solved. The ship's AI. Neat.

"Glad to be aboard, Brom." came his reply, coupled with a light chuckle. He was polite, but in the back of his mind he was amused at being polite to a fething AI.

Soon, vibrations ran underneath his feet. The tell-tale sign that motion was underway - and in the meantime, Hazel would show him about the vessel. Like a puppy...well, not Biggs-sized puppy anyway...he followed her about the ship. Nodding as she gave a short overview of where to find what. Quarters. Fresher. Her quarters - mental note added to knock.

"Simple. Clean. I'm liking the digs, Hazel." he remarked. "And the vibes are immaculate. Feels like I'm in a Jedi joint, minus the righteousness." It was hard to put a finger one the feeling that came from being aboard the vessel. But it was definitely a welcoming one. Like walking into the Obsidian Lotus buildings. Or visiting the Silver Jedi homeworld.

Why her ship would feel all warm and fuzzy, he had no idea. Probably an air freshener.

Hazel Scheler Hazel Scheler
 
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"Thanks," Hazel gave her shoulders a casual roll, "it does the job it needs to do. Can't ask for much more than that."

["Is righteousness something to be frowned upon?"] Brom inquired.

"Probably depends on who you ask, Brom. You hungry?" she gestured to Var, "I'm gonna throw some grub together. If you have allergies or preferences speak up now otherwise-" Hazel turned and punched the door panel for the kitchenette, "I'm not responsible for death or illness."

["You must be gifted with the Force, Var."] Brom's voice followed the man as he moved through the freighter, ["Not just anyone can pick up on the source of the sensation you feel on this ship."]
 
ALL ABOARD

As Hazel continued to move through the ship, the AI posed a question that made the Echani chuckle. Is righteousness something to be frowned upon? Hazel gave a decent enough answer, but Var added: "What I mean is, I wouldn't feel weird taking a shot or four here. Temples...you just feel like you've gotta be on your best behavior."

Then came the subject of grub. "I'm only allergic to bullshit." He was obviously pleased with the quip, as evidenced by his grin. Then the AI spoke again - causing Var's eyebrow to raise.

"You've got a good eye Brom." he admonished. "If you don't mind my asking...are you all ferrying something Jedi related? Or does the ship always feel like this?"

Hazel Scheler Hazel Scheler
 
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"Ohm, pity," the sound of pans clanking echoed from the kitchenette, "was about to cook up a whole pot of bullshit."

A momentary pause of silence reigned through the ship, save the distant rumbling of the engines, in response to Var's last question. Hazel, presently stooped in front of a lower cabinet, eyed the man suspiciously through the open doorway of the kitchenette. The mercenary lightly tapped the skillet pan against her chin in consideration, "Can you keep a secret?"
 
CHOW TIME

Amidst the clang and clatter of Hazel's pots came a quip that made Var smile. He wondered what a pot of bullshit would look like. Probably something with kale. He hated kale.

She then paused her rampage through the cupboards to ask a question. "For you? Always." came his reply. It was an honest one at that, for Hazel was growing on the man.

Hazel Scheler Hazel Scheler
 
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Flatterer. Or something. Hazel narrowed her eyes at him, "What do you think, Brom?"

["I sense no darkside corruption or falsehoods."]

Well that was good news. With a grunt she pushed herself to stand again, nudged the cabinet shut with her boot and turned next to the fridge to produce a package of fresh cut ... well, she wasn't entirely sure what it was but she'd seen a street vendor cooking it and damn had it smelled good. Meat. It was meat.

"Brom's not really an AI," the admittance came with a switch of the stovetop and the ringing of a butcher's knife as it sang from the knife block, "he's the soul of the departed Jedi Master Brom Burnside that resides inside his holocron that makes up the core command module of my ship."

["I still fulfill the functions that an AI in a ship would, but with the additional baggage of having once been human and a Jedi Master to boot. What you are sensing is my presence in the Force."]
 
CHOW TIME

Var knew that there were some advanced AI out there - what, given his employment in the droid capital of the Galaxy and all - but the secret itself made the man's eyebrows raise. Hanging around self-proclaimed Witches inside the Knights had exposed him to all manner of weird. But, turning a holocron slash Jedi ghost into a ship's core took the cake.

"Well damn." was the first thing that he said, coupled with folding his arms. "Now I'm hella curious, how the heck did you think to make a holocron into your ship's AI?"

He then motioned in the general direction of the ship, indicating Brom. "Knowing this...do you...prefer Master Brom? Or..." Though the secret was weird as heck, he'd at least be courteous. Wouldn't do to have the whole damn ship mad at him, right?

Hazel Scheler Hazel Scheler
 
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Hazel gave a rueful chuckle at the thought process that went into using Brom's holocron in the manner she was. How close she had come to death by darkside corruption and never even knew it.

"Prefer him to what? A true AI?" She set to work carving the meat into bite-sized strips, "Never been fancy enough to afford one so I can't really say, if I'm honest." A healthy splash of cooking oil sizzled into the skillet followed by the meat and spices.

"My regular employer deals in goods of the variety that might do harm to someone like me. I can't sense the things you do, never could, so I can't tell when I've got something in my cargo hold that'll kill me just through long-term exposure. Came up pretty badly ill a few times, didn't know why till a friend of mine figured it out." Second pot on the stove, water, boil. She pulled out a package of noodles.

"Now I like that particular employer. He's done good by me, pays well, doesn't ask me to do anything against my moral code, gives me the odd job on the side when he can, so I'm not looking to quit him. When I told him what was happening he offered Brom's holocron as a solution instead of making excuses."

["I can sense what Miss Scheler cannot, and I can offer her protection in a way."]

"My ship is my home so I figured - why not make him a permanent fixture? Give him a job? Got to be boring or at least lonely living in a little metal pyramid. Found a ship maker willing to work out my idea and he figured out a way to connect Brom's holocron into the cortex of the ship's brain. Now he controls the ship like a programmed AI, keeps me safe and sane, gives my home the good feels." Hazel broke off a piece of raw, brittle noodle and popped it in her mouth with a shrug, "Works out pretty well. When he gets sassy I just disconnect the cortex, run on full manual, and give him a time out."

["I am ... or was only human. Something something, even Jedi need naps."]
 
CHOW TIME

Given the perks that Hazel outlined - and her own shortcomings - having a Jedi Master as the vessel's AI made all the sense in the world. Var, personally, was no grandmaster, but he at least had the means to suss out if something was malevolent or not. He had the benefit of getting "vibes" from locales - just like the ship. "That's a damn good employer." he remarked.

"Last boss I had would have just told me to deal with it, and dumped me in a ditch if I croaked."

As he spoke, Var found a comfortable spot to squat whilst Hazel concocted their meal. "Got a question for you Brom, since you don't get to chat with a Jedi everyday."

"I don't know if you're up to speed with current events - what, being in a ship and all. But nowadays, Jedi are murking kids. Sith are ending slavery. Seems everything is belly-up. The good guys are doing the bad guy stuff, right? Meanwhile, my own crew - the Obsidians - they don't even give a hoot about Light or Dark."

"So my question - what is it about the Light that's so good anyway?"

Hazel Scheler Hazel Scheler
 
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"That's a damn good employer."

Hazel couldn't agree more. She nodded, dropped the noodles in the simmering pot, added some salt and oil, then turned back to the skillet. She didn't cook like this very often - fresh ingredients were expensive and often hard to come by on her normal routes. The excuse of treating a guest in her home well felt sound enough to splurge a bit.

Brom did not immediately reply, something Hazel had become accustomed to. Though his wit was sharp, so was his bedside manner. The late Jedi Master didn't like to speak on Jedi dealings without taking a moment to consider his words. Words often had a far greater impact than any sword, gun, or fist - so he said.

["My knowledge of current events ended with my corporeal life, I'm afraid, and that was ... well, in this state time has little consequence. Hazel?"]

Hazel made a thoughtful noise as she basted the sizzling meat with broth and spices, "Ohhm ... I've had you in this ship for about 15 years now. Breaking of Corellia was handful of years before that at least? Twenty ... thirty years then?"

["Long enough to make any opinion on the matter of present day Jedi relatively moot. I was a Corellian Jedi, so my doctrines weren't exactly the galactic norm for Jedi as a whole. Regardless of that, the opinion of what is good and what is bad will very greatly everywhere you go, Var. Both the Jedi and the Sith use this disparity to their advantage in much the same way Lawyers and Politicians do."]

"Not painting a very good picture for the Jedi here, Brom," Hazel smirked up at the glinting comm on the wall by the kitchen doorway.

["I digress. Let me reframe. Why do Jedi sometimes do bad things and Sith sometimes do good things? It's a philosophical question if nothing else that can be debated on premise, reason, origins, and belief until the galaxy ends. The better question is, do you want to do good and how can you best effect that? One does not have to be among the Jedi to be a good person or bring good to the galaxy.]

Brom wasn't answering the question, but instead trying to get Var to come to his own conclusion - a tactic he'd employed with Hazel enough times for her to recognize it when she saw it in action. The mercenary turned the meat in the skillet in a knowing silence.

Varion Talon Varion Talon
 
CHOW TIME

The aroma of fresh ingredients was one that made the Echani's stomach rumble in anticipation. Var was quick to distract from the noise with a light clearing of his throat. Fortunately, the question posed to the Jedi Master filled the space. Both Brom and Hazel referred to an event called the 'breaking of Corellia.' Var had heard of the event from his upbringing - the history books had a rough recollection of the Netherworld Crises but nothing extensive.

Suffice it to say, Brom hadn't been around in quite some time. Enough so that the current generations of Jedi weren't of relation to him. Regardless, the Jedi did not provide a straight answer regarding the Light. But rather inspired the Echani to think. Sith were capable of not being assholes, Jedi were capable of being assholes - there wasn't anything inherent about the Light or Dark that made it happen. Folks chose to act how they chose.

And PR would spin the news how they would.

"So basically, it doesn't matter if you're Jedi or Sith. You can't blame your actions on 'the Force made me do it'. If you're going to be an nerf herder, you're going to be an nerf herder." he folded his arms, satisfied with the understanding. "I appreciate that Master Brom." He gave a thumbs-up in the general direction of the ship's console.

Then, to Hazel he changed the subject - "Didn't you mention something about a pitstop last night?"

Hazel Scheler Hazel Scheler
 
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["Correct,"] Brom replied, ["though I do feel that an unfair use of the title 'nerf herder.' Most of them are quite agreeable."]

Hazel chuckled, "Aye. Need to fuel up about halfway through. There's a couple stations on the way, planet or two. You have a preference?"
 

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