Sandy Adventures Of The Sand Kind

[Iona Immarya]

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Iona skipped down the ramp of the commercial freighter with far more excitement then everyone around her and who could blame them? Mos Espa, and the planet Tatooine, was under the reign of the blundering oafs, the Galactic Empire, well, until someone took it away, hardly a hot spot tourist destination, most people hadn't even heard of Tatooine, she hadn't heard of the planet until she was told she was going to it and unlike the people around her, mostly poor outcast that had come seeking a new life in the middle of nowhere Tatooine, Iona had more then a few reasons to be happy. She was no longer on that force forsaken freighter with its rickety panels packed full of people of varying levels of personal hygiene. Nothing was better then floating through the empty vacuum of space in a rickety hollow box filled with grumpy people, but that was just the tip of the iceberg of her happiness, she was wearing pants. Pants! The people next to her on the flight kept shooting her odd looks because Iona kept running her hands against her thighs and giggling away like a mad woman, she was wearing pants again! No more stuffy robes that had the tendency to get caught in doors, sure the pants weren't as breezy and were even cheaper then the torn up pair she used to wear as a street rat, but oh, how she missed them.​

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Finally, there was the planet itself! Iona stopped on her path down the ramp, ignoring the grumbles of the people around her as they were forced to sidestep around her to get down, it was wondrous! She had never seen a planet like this before, one so hot, bright and full of... sand! So different from the Temple and any other planet she had been to as of yet and no creepy monsters or ghost to ruin the beauty of it like last time! Iona took a deep breath and winced as her lungs filled with hot air and a bit of sand and broke out into a coughing fit, so, maybe it wasn't as great as she thought but she couldn't wait to go exploring and.. as a bead of sweat rolled down her spine, look into getting a hat.​

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Iona felt the two unfamiliar weights on her hip and it reminded her of what she was her for, well, kinda, she hadn't read the whole briefing, was far too long. Taking down a few smugglers and their hanger ons, a something Cassidy was her main target, as this was an Empire controlled planet she had to go incognito which meant no lightsaber, so at her hips, she had the lucky seven and tempest pistols, two weapons used as common sidearms in the Republic, it would be the first time in.. well, sometime she was to use blasters again and she was almost giddy to take them out to shoot at some targets just to break them in. She let her cybernetic left hand rest on the butt of the Lucky Seven and gave a wink to a guard that was staring at her a little too long doing what, she felt, was a very bounty hunter thing to do which was to be her cover. Her azure eyes jumped to the 'starport' which was really just a nice round building for ships to touch down in and brushed a crimson bang, now damp from her sweat, out of her face. 'Well, lets settle in,' She thought a little too eagerly as she continued on her way, a noticeable skip in her step.​

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After all, she had some time to burn and explore while she waited for her contact, a local by the name of [member="Lilla Syrin"] who was hired to help her find the smugglers as if she would get distracted and lost while on a mission... Again. ​

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[Lilla Syrin]

It was not a place she frequented. Despite Mos Espa being primarily known as a spaceport, she kept clear of the various landing sites.

Perhaps it was because she knew she was destined to remain on this dusty, forsaken planet? Or maybe it was because she was unsure if she was born here or on one of the many stars she could see in the night sky?

Sure, she could stow away on a ship, but who was to say where she would end up was any better than where she was now. Despite its misgivings, she was not foolish enough to believe that the grass was greener elsewhere. Not that Tatooine was precisely blessed with plant life of any description.

In truth she was still unsure why she was here. A contact of a contact of a contact had set this up — and she wondered if, in truth, she was being set up. She’d managed to survive through skimming from the bad guys, from finding value in things others threw away and from seeking an existence. The promise of credits was a giddy prospect. She alternated between dismissing the notion as a practical joke and then spending the fee on a bath, a hearty meal and a bed with a pillow on it.

She made her way to the allotted landing bay early and had seen the ship land. The person she was here to meet fitted the description exactly. Except the person she was supposed to contact was apparently here to find smugglers — which required subtlety and a degree of remaining inconspicuous. Neither of which could be attributed to the woman that stood a handful of metres away. Whereas the woman was easily spotted from some distance, Lilla knew she could be a handful of feet from the woman and still not be noticed.

Finally she shrugged her shoulders and ambled the final few yards to greet the newcomer.

She looked her briefly in the eyes before casting her gaze to the ground. “I’m Lilla,” she said, her voice slightly coarse, as if she wasn’t used to talking. Or maybe it was exposure to all that heat and sand? Either way, her tone was gravelly and light.

“Are you ready?”

[member="Iona Immarya"]

 

[Iona Immarya]

Iona let her hands rest on her hips as she looked at the 'circle' hole they called a hanger. The sandstone, well, she assumed it was sandstone, show her a metal bulwark and she could tell you exactly what it was made of and how to get through it, but stone walls were still a new thing, but they were stone and looked like sand, so while it may not be sandstone, as far as she was concerned, it was close enough. Nothing about the place felt 'off' and she had long learned to trust her instincts which, as she had later found out, were being amplified by the force. Her finer tune sensing abilities weren't there, but she had a knack for feeling danger and there was none here.

With the amount of people shuffling through the sand around her, Iona didn't hear the young woman walk up, and Iona nearly jumped when her gravel-like voice introduced herself. It wasn't truly gravel, like Sergeant Warren's voice which sounded like two boulders being ground together, it was more.. soft and coarse, like the sand beneath her feet. Iona took the time to examine the woman, who looked to be a few years younger then herself, her blue eyes tracing the tanned skin, the eyes that had, just moments before, measured her to turn demurely to the ground, the purposeful way she made herself look small so as to not be noticed, just a face in the crowd, someone if you looked for twice would be gone. Lilla, as she had introduced herself, was what Iona used to be. A small, poor girl in a place filled with criminals, gangs, little food and a low life expectancy. A street rat.. or, well, Iona corrected herself, a sand rat.

"Not yet," Iona said as she flashed a large smile, "I need a hat... and some better clothes," she said as she plucked at her dark brown shirt, "Something ruddy and tan, used, know a place? Oh," Iona added as if she had forgotten, "You probably already know, but I'm Iona."

[member="Lilla Syrin"]

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla listened and nodded almost imperceptibly. Iona would know she was acknowledging what she siad, but nobody else would have picked up on the gesture.

“Follow me,” Lilla said, heading off slowly but deliberately. It would be up to the newcomer to either fall into step or follow. Either way, Lilla would make steady progress, occasionally taking a detour from her planned route, just to make sure they weren’t being followed. Just because the woman was here to find the smugglers, didn’t mean the smugglers couldn’t find her first.

Lilla didn’t spend any credits on clothing. What she wore she found. When you have insufficient funds to eat, clothes are deemed a luxury. But that didn’t mean she didn’t know where to buy them from.

Soon they reached the market she’d been heading for and she gazed at the rabble in the bazaar ahead of them. It was dark, noisome, and allowed for anonymity.

Shadow and light danced in an ever-changing roil of smoke from cookpots and braziers; multicolored lights strung along kiosks twinkled and winked to tempt the eye and draw in the potential customers who thronged the thoroughfare.

Her gaze fell to a kiosk some twenty metres distant, at which several shoppers were haggling with the vendor over the assortment of clothing — that broadly fitted the description the woman had given her.

Lilla nodded towards the stall. “We’re here,” she said and hung back, allowing the newcomer to lead the way from here.

[member="Iona Immarya"]

 

[Iona Immarya]

Iona followed behind the younger woman and followed her as she moved through the crowds, once in awhile, they would take a sudden turn or sharp angle as if trying to lose or confuse anyone that could be following, but there was none, still she couldn't fault the younger woman for it, it was the same thing she used to do including hiding in air ducts to double back after waiting ten minutes. This planet, filled with outcast and criminals, it never hurt to be too careful. Iona had lost of lot of her old fear and paranoia, at times she wondered if the force was a crutch as, before, she was always tense, ready to explode and run at a moments notice, now she could 'sense' when someone meant her harm or if someone was staring, it let her relax a bit more then she would ever have allowed herself to.

As they neared the bazaar, Iona basked in the wondrous new smells. Spices she couldn't put name to, sizzling meats that she had never tried or heard made her stomach rumble as she couldn't quite remember the last time she had eaten and the constant buzz of conversation blanketed the area, every now and then, Iona would pick up a word or phrase someone would say, sometimes they were innocent questions about their lives, other times, hushed whispers about shipments, to those, she would note their location and appearance, but did noting else. She gave a nod and flashed a smile to Lilla when they arrived at the clothing 'store'. It wouldn't really break the ice, Iona knew that, but it was habit.

Iona moved forward, plucking a dirty, worn tan shirt that looked more like a blanket with a hole in the center then a true shirt, but Iona assumed it was meant to be worn over her shit, so she tossed it over her arm, then she looked over at Lilla as if taking her measurements before tossing two more shirts, both in decent shape but, more importantly, made of tough material, a pair of worn pants and a thick, strong belt all ladden over her arm, "Do you know how to use a blaster?" Iona asked as she made her way over to their selection of hats.

She hadn't seen a blaster on Lilla, but she assumed she probably had a knife or other sharp piece of metal tucked away somewhere, it is what Iona used to do. Iona grabbed a wide brimmed tan hat with its fair shares of tears in it, a long braided strap running underneath and more then its shares of flowers emboldened in the fabric, it was utterly hideous, she plopped it under her head and posed to the other woman, "Yea or nay?"

[member="Lilla Syrin"]

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla gave a half-smile in return to the woman. Few people smiled at Lilla. The majority of those did so before inflicting some sort of punishment on her – or at least they tried to. Genuine kindness? Especially from a stranger? Lilla couldn’t remember the last time that happened. The few smiled and didn’t want to hurt her were typically after something and used the gesture to soften her up.

Was Iona any different? Lilla had no idea but, credits or no credits, she would be on her guard. Or as on her guard as she could be with the distraction of those smells. It was why she rarely came here. When she was little she would travel to this area just to sample the aromas and plan what she’d eat if she could afford it. But that became something of a torture and so now she only visited when she needed to.

Lilla watched as Iona began to sort through the clothes and was pleased her newly found partner was choosing practical and understated garments. Nothing to make you stand out from the crowd.

Lilla shook her head when questioned. “In theory. I’ve never held one, let alone used one. They draw attention where I operate. You’re more likely to get killed to steal it from you than you are to die from not being able to protect yourself. If I needed one, I’d be in the wrong place at the wrong time. If I have to fight, I use my body – or whatever comes to hand.”

As Lilla watched, Iona selected a range of useful garments – but finally she chose something the young woman did not approve of. “Nay,” she said, a little more forcefully than she planned, the wrinkle on her nose echoing her thoughts on the flowery monstrosity. “If you want to cover your head, get something with a hood. You can’t drop it and it won’t blow away.”

[member="Iona Immarya"]

 

[Iona Immarya]

Iona frowned as the verdict on the hat was rendered and she gave a defeated huff, "Okay, probably wasn't the best pick," she admitted ruefully and took off her hat and hung it back on the rack. She tapped her finger against her lip as she mused her situation, looking for something akin to what she had suggested, a hood that would be less likely to be blown off. She had seen some women earlier wearing some kind of garment that they had turned into a hood but she certainly lacked the skill and knowledge to do anything close to that without looking incredibly foolish, so she grabbed a long garment, it reminded her slightly of her Jedi robes, they were even just as drab a color as them, she tossed it over her arm to join the rest.

It was a little worrisome that Lilla had never held a blaster before, on Coruscant, Iona had some experience with them before the Jedi, usually to turn around and sell them later because they drew too much attention, but her homeworld was far more industrious and populated then Tatooine. She was going after some dangerous people, many of which liked to shoot first and ask questions when they were three or four systems away, Iona wasn't expecting the woman to come to her aid, if anything, probably hide behind cover or a nearby wall and weigh the odds before making a decision, but Iona would have felt better if she wasn't so vulnerable to a stray bolt if she didn't duck fast enough.

"So, when we find these dastardly villains," Iona said as she moved to the counter to pay for the clothes, "Are you planning on sending me off then hiding behind something to see how it plays out?"

[member="Lilla Syrin"]

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla smiled. She did not do a lot of talking, let alone engage in banter. And she found the experience…pleasing.

Which made her frown involuntarily. The greatest challenge for someone with nothing was to have a little of something and then go back to zero again. It was the way with food and water – and, she suspected, friendship too. Not that she counted Iona as a friend – and she was not foolish enough to think the young woman would count the Mos Espa native as one either. In truth Lilla had no friends. There were many reasons for this way of life.

Firstly, too many of the people she knew died. Malnutrition, disease, infections, exposure – and they were just some of the natural causes. And that didn’t factor in being killed – either for something they had, something they represented, being in the wrong place at the wrong time…the list for being murdered was endless.

The second reason was that friendship was painful. Losing people you knew was hard, losing someone you were close too was exponentially difficult to deal with.

And a third powerful reason was the fact that friendships could be used against you. Or you could be used against someone else. This she knew from her training at the academy. It was the ultimate tool to gain compliance, the threat to a loved one. It overrode all logic and rational thought and trumped even the coldest of hearts.

Yet, despite every down and out knowing these rules, they all drank from the well that was forbidden. And Lilla was no exception, latching onto the banter and entering into the spirit of camaraderie without a moment’s hesitation. Yes, it would hurt later, but for now it felt wonderful.

“Much better,” Lilla offered as Iona chose a nondescript cloak. It marked her out as local, not a tourist.

The woman’s next question gave Lilla cause for thought. It was an interesting conundrum. She had been hired to find the location of these people, not engage them. But the way Iona described it, sounded as though she was going to put her companion at undue risk.

“I shall find them for you,” Lilla said, pulling that hat from the peg and putting it on her own head before promptly removing it and placing back where it belonged. “And I shall help you find a way of engaging them with the minimum of risk to you. I suggest a direct shoot out, even with my help, would be a last option, not a first. But I won’t abandon you, that’s for sure. However, if it comes to violence, I’m best suited being up close and personal – not working from a distance.”

There was a confidence in her voice that suggested this was not mere bravado. And nor did she sound as if she was blissfully unaware of her shortcomings. “If I can touch them, I can deal with them. Believe me.”

[member="Iona Immarya"]

 

[Iona Immarya]

Iona turned back to the younger woman, her arms to laden with the purchased clothes. She looked the young woman up and down once again, trying to appraise her, she wasn't sure about her fighting abilities, when Iona was younger, she avoided fights and then used a small blade to go after people when things got rough, but she never liked getting close to them. Now, she did most of her fighting up close and personal but that was only because she had a very deadly glowstick and she found she really missed blasters from time to time as, sometimes, she really didn't like charging forth at someone opening up on her, especially, when they tried to be clever and bring slugthrowers or scatter guns.

"Well, that's good, I am not overly fond of being shot at," which was especially true when she didn't have her lightsaber and had to limit her usage of the force as much as possible to not draw attention, "I should probably consider a new line of work," she said with a bemused smile as she started to divide the clothes.

"If you don't mind, I want to give you one of my blasters for this job. The smuggler is the first target, I need to get information from him, of where much bigger fish are because he sold something to them that I need back," Iona explained as she separated the clothes, "The second.. well, they aren't going to just give it back to me, so, you know-" she held up her hand making a gun with her fingers, "Might get a little rough and it'd make me feel better if you were armed. You can give it back the second we are done."

She scooped up the second pile, the much larger one as the only things she had taken out were the robe and, what Iona could only describe as a blanket with a hole cut out of the middle, and offered it to [member="Lilla Syrin"], "Here. For you. Lets grab some food really quick, drop these off where ever you are staying at the present and then track us down some no-gooders, yeah?"

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla was listening intently – so much so that she was blissfully unaware that Iona was handing some of the clothes she had purchased to her.

It was good to hear the woman did not like being shot at. Sometimes bounty hunters and assassins lived for the adrenaline rush that near-death experiences provided. In Lilla’s opinion, it made her perfect for this line of work, not less so. Killers had a single line of work – the death of the target was the only objective. Most bounty hunters weighed up the job in a risk-based way and often only took jobs where they made a profit from killing their prey.

But the assignment Lilla had been asked to help out with? It was about information primarily, and for that you needed subtlety and guile – and the best operatives never put themselves at undue risk. The subtle arts of blackmail, seduction and persuasion could loosen a tongue more effectively than a blaster to the temple. Typically because the target did not believe you had it in you to pull the trigger – or knew that to kill them would mean the information was lost the moment the blaster was fired.

Lilla’s nose wrinkled at the thought of holding a blaster. But she respected the woman’s logic and principles. It might give an air of intimidation to be sporting a weapon.

“Agreed. I’ll take the blaster and only use it as a last resort. And trust me, you’ll get it back the moment we’re finished.”

And at that point the credit dropped and she realised why she was holding a pile of clothing. She looked back at the vendor. “Hold these for me, I’ll be back.” As he began to protest, Lilla gave him an icy stare. “You didn’t barter so let’s assume you did. The discount you would have offered can pay for the storage, right?”

She turned her back on the market stall and spoke to Iona softly. “I don’t precisely stay anywhere. Sometimes in a hostel, other times I sleep rough. It depends on my level of credits at the end of each day. So I own what I wear and can carry. I have no need for material things beyond clothing and food. Now…what kind of food do you like best?”

[member="Iona Immarya"]

 

[Iona Immarya]

Iona was more then a little surprised that she trusted the merchant enough to not sell the clothes behind her back. She assumed [member="Lilla Syrin"] had a stash somewhere, when she was a street rat, she had a small duct, duct C12 on sub-level H, to be exact, where she would store what little she had gathered. Duct searching was dangerous as some ducts led to exhaust and could get hot enough to cook a human alive in their own skin, and all too often, a duct will suddenly bend down and more then a few people, usually kids, had died from falling down them and there bodies would stay there until they started to smell enough for maintenance to clean them out. Or perhaps it wasn't a matter of trust and she just knew the clothes wouldn't sell and so was weighing her chances?

Still, she had gumption, Iona would give her that. She may not seem to have a lot of people skills, but Lilla knew how to communicate when it counted and, truth be told, a large part of why Iona was so generous with the credits was, well, they weren't her credits. They belonged to the Order, she didn't have credits because, Jedi or not, she was as broke, if not a little more, then when she was a street rat. "lonely life," Iona said giving voice to the same reasons she was so attached to the Order now. Her old life had been bleak and lonely. Everyone was out to get someone, no one did anything without reason or cause, without expecting something in return down the road, it was a horrid existence and one Iona never wanted to go back to. To this day, she disliked Coruscant despite it being 'home'.

"Whatever I can get," Iona answered honestly. She had spent so long eating whatever she could that everything she had now tasted wondrous. Her favorite nostalgia food was still boiled ration bars, turned it into a sort of gruel that was ever so slightly better tasting then the normal, bland ration bars that always had a certain indescribable flavor that, if Iona well had to guess, the mind didn't really want to know. She had yet to meet anyone that shared her taste in food, but then, most of those in the Order, or military, didn't have her background.

"Your planet," Iona said with a shrug and a smile, "Show me your favorite, I am a bit of a tourist, after all."

 

[Lilla Syrin]

“Lonely?” Lilla echoed. “You get used to what you’re used to I find. You never miss what you’ve never had, only what you’ve tasted and had taken away. So I tend to avoid the tasting and that way, I can avoid the withdrawal symptoms.”

“Anyhow, food…”

Lilla took them a few blocks over and passed what appeared to be fine eateries en route. Clearly she had a destination in mind.

“You want local? I can give you local. You want authentic? This place is about as authentic Mos Espa as you get — unless you want to eat things that are still moving on the plate. Which I don’t. The Hutt’s cuisine has a lot to be desired and its influence on our restaurants leaves a lot to be desired.”

Abruptly Lilla stopped and opened a nondescript door in a nondescript premises. There was no sparkling shop window to even suggest what was inside and nor was there any name above the door.

It was a grease-speckled restaurant that appeared to attract a steady clientele of itinerant freighter pilots and dockworkers, as well as oddball assortment of regulars.

Scrawled on one wall was a menu that boasted a wide variety of drinks, including juri juice and ardees - also known as Jawa juice. Also served were fried nerf steak, protato wedges, and pickled gartro eggs. The food that was being carried to tables by waitresses of all races was certainly fragrant but appeared oily and unhealthy. But to Lilla’s palate, it was cheap and filling.

Lilla slid into a small booth and indicated Iona join her. Before her comrade could sit, Lilla had grabbed a passing waitress and placed their order.

“Can we have two Ardees and a plate of sliders to share.”

She turned to Iona and absent-mindedly swept crumbs off the table with a napkin she pulled from the dispenser. “The Jawa juice is a little bitter but a perfect accompaniment to the sliders — given their grease content. But don’t let that put you off. These sliders are square and come served with either Mongo Beefhead patties or Firaxan shark fillets.”

“But it’s the special sauce that makes them, believe me.”

[member="Iona Immarya"]

 

[Iona Immarya]

"No, you can miss what you've never had," Iona said and offered a small shrug. She understood where the other woman was coming from. Iona had never completely cut herself off from others, even before the Order, but she knew the desire well enough. Sometimes it was easier, but a part of her didn't want to die alone, to be just another street rat that was grabbed off the street and was never seen again. She wanted someone, somewhere, to care that she was gone if even for a moment as the opposite was too sad to consider... and she had seen it happen too many times to want that to continue. She missed a family. She had never had one, never had someone she could trust that, they may not like or or be happy with her, but when the cards were down, they would come to her aid, well, she did now in the Order, but before? It was unthinkable and a part of her yearned for that, that warmth she could only imagine, a cold child dreaming of fire.

"Preferably something that isn't moving," Iona admitted as she followed in step, she stopped only a moment when they reached their destination to examine the surroundings. It was- well, she wouldn't say nice or even welcoming, but it was there. There was a man trying to pretend he didn't have a heavy blaster tucked into the back of his pants by constantly leaning back to make sure his shirt wasn't getting caught into it which only served to draw more attention. It wasn't the only weapon, of course, but his constant fidgeting caught her attention. None of them looked particularly dangerous, but one never really knew.

Iona slid in to her side of the table and almost, foolishly, asked if there were sharks on the planet, but caught her tongue in time. Of course there wasn't sharks on a desert planet unless there was some kind of terrifying sand shark she had yet to hear about. Perhaps a giant worm that came up to eat people but that sound all too likely so she shuddered and ignored that thought. Iona was a little confused as to why she only ordered one plate. Either it came with more then a few sliders, or the other women was worried about imposing which seemed likely, Iona highly doubted many, if ever, doubted to take her to dinner that didn't have some ulterior motive.

"Can't wait to try it," Iona responded and she meant it. She loved trying new food, it was one of lifes great little pleasures even if she couldn't often afford it as Jedi Padawan wasn't exactly a well paid position. As they were waiting anyways, Iona worked out the light blaster pistol she carried and gently set it on the table, the grip pointed towards [member="Lilla Syrin"] and then set the extra power cell for it she brought with her next to it.

She was fairly certain the younger woman would not appreciate it being given in the open like this, dim as the restaurant was, but Iona was just as confident she could deal with any would-be muggers or pickpockets, she had dealt with worse even before she was a jedi.

"The Model 7, usually called the 'Lucky Seven', Seventy-five shots a power cell, one hundred-fifty a canister. Pretty short range, light and small," she said gesturing to its small size, not like it wasn't apparent from just looking at it, "barely kicks so good if you've never used one before. Very reliable, don't worry about dirt getting into it," which was the main reason she had selected that pistol before coming as it was very resistant to malfunction.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla was fully aware of the portion sizes here. A sharing platter was designed for two large humanoids. Given Lilla’s appetite was governed by eating rarely and in small quantities, she knew that the dire-cat’s share of the food would be left to Iona.

“You won’t be disappointed,” Lilla said as her companion showed either a genuine interest in the food, or a very well feigned desire to taste it.

Unfamiliar with small talk – Lilla had been trained in the art but years of zero use had dulled her abilities – she was almost relived when Iona put the blaster on the table.

Almost.

The young woman wrinkled her nose unconsciously as the weapon was turned on the table, clearly positioned so that she could pick it up.

She stared at it for a few long moments before cradling it in her palm. She was not trained in its use, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know how to use it. It was simply not a weapon of choice.

She listened to Iona as she described the blaster and committed the simple information to memory. Lilla checked the safety, aimed it at the back of a fellow patron to get a feel for its balance and then she double-checked the safety before depositing it in a pocket.

“Short range? How short is short? It would be good to know before I have to use it. And how much damage with a non-torso or head shot?” For someone with no affinity for the weapon, she sure had a lot of questions.

[member="Iona Immarya"]

 

[Iona Immarya]

"Fifty meters or so," Iona responded as she locked eyes on the server who was bringing over two platters, one filled with drinks and the other stacked high with small, well, she wasn't sure if she should classify it as sandwiches or burgers, but she was intrigued. When the slider platter was sat down between them, and the drinks placed before each, Iona lowered her head to the table to get a better look at them as she moved around the table, looking a bit too much like an intrigued viper as she would lean in then out to get the best angle on this new food she had yet to try.

"Lethal, try not to kill anyone please," She answered, almost absentmindedly, to the question of it striking a head or body. Well, she didn't really think that, unless called for, [member="Lilla Syrin"] would kill anyone, but it was better safe then regretting not saying it and giving her the gun later.

Iona lifted one up, it had a lighter shade of meat, so she could only assume it was shark which, well, she wasn't sure how she felt eating something that usually ate other creatures, but she bite into it, grease slipping out to run down her chin and she tried, and failed, to recover and wiped the trail from her chin, "You weren't lying..." She said to really just help her failed recovery, "But good! Way better then what they give us at-" she paused as she caught herself, "I mean, what I usually have."

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla had heard the warnings. Perhaps it was being on a planet devoid of water made seafood such an enticing prospect? Yet she was aware that some locals said eating shark meat was dangerous. Because of it being an apex predator and because sharks effectively urinate through their skin. Her training as a spy was invaluable on these sorts of subjects. She could hold a lengthy discussion on the pros and cons of eating the meat, the risks of bioaccumulation and the dangers to pregnant women.

Except these sharks were bred for food and not free to eat whatever fish they swam upon. Their diet was monitored and the meat treated to negate any negative aspects caused by the urea.

And most importantly they tasted good. So Lilla grabbed one and took a huge bite. She would slow down as the meal progressed – her lack of credits meant she ate infrequently and sparingly, so she would get full very quickly.

But that did not stop her munching a first bite so large, her cheeks were bulging. And unlike her table guest, she did not care about fine dining manners. She would grab a napkin once she’d devoured the slider – and not before.

Finishing the first bite, she nodded to Iona. “Glad you approve, and don’t worry, I’ve not killed anyone yet and don’t plan to start any time soon.”

She pondered pressing on where Iona was from, picking up the fact the woman changed the sentence with unnecessary haste, but decided against it. Secrets were not what she was here for. Credits were, and anything that might hinder that would be avoided.

“So, what leads do you have?” she asked instead, deciding a working lunch was a good use of the time. As she finished the sentence, she pulled two napkins from the dispenser and gave her chin a good wipe. Then she grabbed a second slider and took a much smaller bite this time. She would have to pace her consumption to fit the most food into her stomach.

[member="Iona Immarya"]

 

[Iona Immarya]

Whatever embarrassment Iona had when she had been subject to the Great Grease attack vanished when [member="Lilla Syrin"] took a large bite from her food and her cheeks puffed out like a hive rat trying to run off with a mouthful of worms before the others could take them away. Unable to stop it, Iona snorted and then let out a mad giggle that she didn't bother to try and stop. It was nice to know she wasn't the only one in the galaxy that was incredibly smooth in social situations. She flashed another smile, more on reflex then anything, and continued to eat.

Her next sandwich stopped an inch away from her mouth as she thought of the first person she had ever killed. Well, calling it a person was debatable. It had been a spirit, a tortured soul that an ancient sith had trapped in an old ruin that she had cleared out with a fellow Jedi, a mandalorian Jedi who had a tendency to fall down holes. When she had struck the abomination down, she had felt the person it once was, the essence that cried out in agony as her saber passed through it, and for a moment, a single moment, Iona swore she could see the woman it had once been as she brought it to an end. There may be no death, and only the force, but she had taken away something and a part of her hated it, there was a better way, she could have done something, done more, but, "I wouldn't recommend it," Iona said softly, "Killing that is.."

More then happy to change the subject, Iona closed her eyes as she tried to recall all the details that was in her briefing, she really needed to start reading those things instead of just browsing them, but they were so dreadfully tedious and it took her forever to read, "Jorn Da-Damingo? Dartango.. Something like that, small time smuggler who got his hands on something a little too big for him, sold it to a pirate gang, but I don't know which," Well, it could have been in the briefing and she just didn't see that part, but that was a fact Iona didn't want to share, "I know he spends a large amount of time in a local cantina, the Tomb Rat? No, that isn't it," Iona's brow furrowed as she tried to recall the name, "Comb Rat? Romp Rat? Something Rat."

 

[Lilla Syrin]

LIlla had been trained in etiquette at the governess’s academy here on Tatooine. And not just what passed for manners on Coruscant, but also many of the known societies around the galaxy.

But a combination of hunger, a lack of practise and a large helping of not being bothered one way or another meant Lilla did not care how she looked right now. All she was interested in were flavour and nutrition. And the greasy sliders scored on both counts.

She didn’t even mind when Iona found her table manners humorous. In truth, she actually enjoyed the fact that her companion was amused as opposed to horrified.

Lilla was focused on eating, but not so much that she couldn’t listen to Iona. “I don’t intend to make a habit of it, or even start,” she said, in between chewing and swallowing her second slider.

And she listened to the name. If Lilla had a positive trait, it was her attention to detail and her willingness to commit so much information to memory. She nodded as she reflected on what she knew.

“Yes, small time — and your pronunciation is spot on. And what you’re looking for is Womp Rat. Yes, that’s where he frequents. And I know what he drinks, which serving girl he likes most and a few other facts besides. And not that it’s important, but a womp rat is an omnivore native to this planet. Not sure why they decided to name a cantina after it. They’re vermin. And the term ‘rat’ is misleading. They’re two metres long.”

“But that’s not important. What is relevant is the fact that tonight is sabacc night at the cantina — and Jorn fancies himself as a player. You any experience in playing? It would be a great reason to be there and see what he might share without any need for physical intimidation.”

[member="Iona Immarya"]

 

[Iona Immarya]

"Good," Iona said although she wasn't sure which of the names she had said were spot on, as, to be honest, she was almost certain she had been making up the second part of the name as she couldn't quite recall what it, exactly, was. The masters would probably say something about the Force lending her the knowledge as there was no such thing as luck, but if that were the case, the Force had to be getting tired of bailing her out of tricky situations as she had a tendency to stumble into them at a worrisome pace. When [member="Lilla Syrin"] mentioned the size of those womp rats, Iona let out a whistle, those were some big rats. Even the hive rats didn't get that big, but she hoped those womp rats didn't do what the hive rats did and travel in large, very hungry, hordes.

She scooped up another sandwich, picking one with a darker meat this time and took a drink of the juice giving a slight wince at the bitter falvor, "Oh, that is.... something," she said as her lips pursed.

Sabacc, it had been a long time since she last played sabacc, mostly, because the other Jedi at the order either didn't play it or could catch her cheating which lead to very long, painful, lectures by whatever old master could be roped into giving it, so it had been some time. But they wouldn't be at the temple, there would be no other trained force sensitive around to feel her probing their minds for what cards they had, not that she could read them, but Iona would, instead, feel their emotions if they were elated, cautious, dubious or worried which was all anyone really needed to gain an unfair advantage. Since it was at a cantina that meant a dealer, so, sadly, she wouldn't be able to card shark, but she would make do, "I'm not a bad hand," Iona said with false modesty, "Although do you have a plan? Not sure taking all of his credits is going to make him want to talk, I mean, I can force it out of him but rather not," using the force to compel people to answer always felt wrong and she wasn't a fan of doing it although it didn't occur to her that saying it that way probably left the impression of torture, which she wasn't a fan of, torture was usually counter productive at best.

 

[Lilla Syrin]

Lilla smiled and then giggled. It was hard not to when someone tasted Ardees for the first time. “Trust me,” she said, once she’d got her emotions under control, “You’ll appreciate the taste more the more you eat. The bitterness counteracts the greasiness of the food. Which doesn’t sound particular pleasant when you say it like that, but as I say, go with it. It’s a complementary thing that works if you give it time.”

LIlla was pleased Iona was a decent player of the card game — it was a way of getting close to the target without arousing suspicion. “Reflect on that thought a second. If you take his credits, you make him look weak in front of his peers. But what if you then cut him deal. Information for a chance to regain his status with his cronies? He tells you what you need to know and you lose enough hands to make him look good. The fact that he only ends up where he started is immaterial — all they’ll remember is who was winning at the end.”

Lilla pulled a face that suggested it was a decent plan, but she was open to suggestions if Iona had a better one.

[member="Iona Immarya"]