The People You Meet

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

Sometimes Kurt wondered where the Galaxy was trying to take him. It was tough to tell with all that had been going on lately, and unlike others in his life Kurt wasn’t exactly capable of guiding his own life via the force.

He really only had his gut.

His father had once told him a long time ago that his gut was the best compass in the galaxy, but given that he’d been lost more than once in the dunes of Tatooine following his gut he wasn’t exactly sure that was correct. The Pilot let out a sigh as he pressed the fuel nozzle against the side of The Messa, a loud hiss ringing out within the nearly empty hangar as the hose latched into place.

Kaile was headed back to Sullust for a day or two, something to do with the Alliance that he hadn’t really cared enough to ask about. She had tried to explain the details before but...well Kurt wasn’t the most clever individual in the galaxy and sometimes he prefered to skip over the details and simply jump onto the more important things in life.

His stomach began to grumble. ”Alright alright.”

Kurt told his stomach as he shifted slightly. The Trade Station that he had landed on was just off of one of the main hyperspace routes in this sector, usually far more busy, it was oddly empty right now. He looked around for a few minutes and then spotted a nearby diner, nothing fancy, though it reminded him of the place he had first met Jamie in.

He smiled slightly, nostalgia plucking at his strings as he wandered towards the restaurant. He wondered who he’d meet this time, probably no one near as pretty.

 

[Carbon]

"No, no..." he mutters, gesticulating with disappointment at the sunny-side-up disaster on his plate, "this isn't going to do. I said scrambled."

The cooking droid behind the counter fidgeted, a few sparks flying from it's neck where a frayed wire decided it wanted to overheat. A frown creased the young Mirialan's lips, and he leaned forward, getting a look at it. While he wasn't a droid guy, it was clear that wire powered something up in the bucket's brains, and said brain was quite literally going to short circuit before long.

Because why wouldn't, it, honestly?

He just wanted some foofriggen eggs, was that really so foofriggen difficult?

Foofriggen hardly, if you asked him.

Leaning forward to rest an elbow on the counter, he settled his temple into a palm in exasperation, pushing the plate away as he gently swiveled on his stool. The place was empty, the droid was as helpful as a sock puppet attempting to deep fry a krayt, and his eggs - his foofriggen eggs - weren't even done properly.

Wait! Idea!

"Can I get these made sunny side up?" He asks, gesturing to the plate. There was a pause, a spark, and then the droid hefted the plate and disappeared into the kitchen.

It might just work, stupid as it was.

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

Diners, in his rather worldly experience, tended to fall into one of two categories. Either they had the greatest food in the galaxy, cooked by an old Besalisk with the skill of a Master Chef usually only found in five star restaurants, or they were so awful that you questioned whether or not their Nerf actually came from a nerf.

This place seemed closer to the latter than the form, a fact that made Kurt’s heart sink just a little bit.

It wasn’t a real surprise of course, most diners tended to fall into the latter category, but Kurt had hoped he would at the very least be able to get some good food before heading off towards his next destination. He sighed slightly, shaking his head as he walked past the empty hostess stand and simply headed towards the long stretching bar at the back of the diner.

He saw the cooking droid scurry away back into the kitchen, undoubtedly told to make something by the young man that was sitting towards the end of the bar. Kurt looked around the near empty diner, then simply sat himself down a few seats away from the other man, immediately picking up the plastic menu that had been propped up in a tiny metal stand.

”Any idea what’s good here?” Kurt asked, not entirely sure he would get any answer at all.

In truth he hoped that this Diner was still a hidden gem, though half of him was hoping to at least strike up an interesting conversation.

That would make up for the lack of food.

 

[Carbon]

He lifted his head, unkempt black hair spiked up around the dust-goggles set upon his forehead. "I hear the disappointment's to die for." He says in a dry tone, shaking his head as the droid knocks something over in the back. Shrugging out a 'what can you do,' he drums his fingers on the countertop. "Droids busted, so you're liable to just get whatever it feels like giving you.

I'm testing something at the moment though, so we'll see what happens."

That's what you always wanted to hear in a diner, 'server is busted, but I'm testing something, don't worry.'

[member="Kurt Meyer"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

Oh good, an experiment. That was about the last thing he wanted to hear at the moment. The server droid was also the cook, another one of those black marks that let diners slip into the second category. Kurt let out a sigh, scratching his head and letting the plastic menu fall back onto the bar.

”Well.” Kurt said simply. ”At the very least it’ll keep the mystery alive in my life.”

He didn’t sound all too pleased about it.

In truth he’d had enough of the unknown as of late. Not knowing what was going on with Jamie, not knowing what was going on with Kaile, not knowing what was going on with himself. Life was getting far too complex far too quickly. He needed a roadmap, not a random meal from a serving droid that was apparently attempting to revolutionize cuisine. ”Did you try hitting it?”

Kurt asked, of course referring to the droid.

 

[Carbon]

"Despite my father leaving me a droid making company, I can't say I know how to fix them." He paused, lips pursing as he stared back towards the kitchen. "That might be a lie, I know how to fix them, kind of, but I don't have any tools on me.

It's not like I expected to come in here and have to do a droidal lobotomy."

While he wouldn't admit it, when the man asked if he'd 'hit it,' he'd almost responded with 'I don't do the product testing,' but caught himself. Not everyone needed to know that little shameful secret.

Shame, so much shame.

"You can try hitting him, though." He remarks, as the door swings open and the door comes sliding out - it's just a torso on a track that runs back to the kitchen, and it's going fast enough it's leaning back as though the sheer force of the air on it was causing it to lean. And then it stopped, dropping scrambled eggs in front of the Miri. "Oh, well, experiment success, then."

[member="Kurt Meyer"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

”My father called it percussive maintenance.” Kurt said simply as he leaned over the counter to inspect the droid. The Pilot wasn’t exactly and expert when it came to automatons, hell he didn’t have any clue about them at all actually, but his father had quite a few working around the farm back on Tatooine. They were invaluable when they did their job right, but sometimes...well they could go off on tangents.

”Doubt it will work here.” He sighed and fell back in his chair, looking at the droid as it sparked and slowly reeled over towards him. Oddly enough it didn’t actually say anything, just stared at him in a creepy, almost murderous manner. ”How exactly did you get what you wanted?”

He assumed that was what the man had meant by success.

In truth though, Kurt wasn’t quite sure that getting what he wanted here would even make him happy. The mans scrambled eggs didn’t look all that appetizing and he was concerned that whatever he would order would turn out pretty much the same way. A terrifying thought really, but one that couldn’t be overcome until he ordered.

”Like, if I order Nerf will I end up with seared Bantha?” He didn’t like Bantha, too gamey.

 

[Carbon]

"Well," the male begins, brows raising as the left side of his mouth quirked downward, "I ordered scrambled, for sunny side up. So it stood to reason the reverse would remain true."

He begin eating the horrendously prepared food like it was a delicacy, and it was - at least to him. This was far better than anything he'd ever eaten on Junction.

The Mandalorians had left the almost entirely genocided planet alone for nearly a decade before building a new outpost. Most of the survivors of the Sith invasion - Yarva among them - didn't trust this new city.

So they had remained relatively wild and 'free.' Which also meant a horrendous standard of living, and one he was still used to, even years later.

"Not a bad deduction, frankly, but one you'll have to rest to find out." He stared at the side of the droid's head, it's glowing, murderous eyes locked onto Kurt.

"Well, on the bright side, we know why the place is empty."

[member="Kurt Meyer"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

Briefly Kurt wondered if the thing was about to jump over the table to murder him, but eventually he tried to settle in his mind that it was simply very eager to do its job. ”I would like…”

He began to speak, but then thought about how he should order his food. The droid had gotten the ‘eggs’ part of his companions meal correct, so maybe it was all about asking for the right kind of preparation? He supposed that made sense in a roundabout way, the droids processors were likely just scrambled.

”Nerf…” He stopped, thought for a moment, then continued. ”Overdone in the frier with unsalted old fries.”

The droid let out a loud beep and then quickly zoomed away into the kitchen.

Kurt really wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen, but the worst that could occur was he was about to get some really awful overdone fried nerf steak with french fries that had been sitting out for a couple days. The best? Well judging from his companions meal, it probably wasn’t much better. ”I doubt other places here are any better.”

Trade Stations weren’t known for their cuisine after all.

”Kurt Meyer.” The pilot said in introduction.

 

[Carbon]

He shrugged, still helping himself to eggs only an animal could eat with a near-ravenous vigor. Truthfully, they tasted pretty good, at least to him.

[member="Kurt Meyer"] was clearly used to higher class fare.

"See, you've got the hang of it already." He half-jests, a few egg bits flying past his lips. His weatherbeaten skin pulled tight around his lips as they smiled in tight fashion.

"Yarva Adisu." He rumbles, with Mandalorian gruffness. "What brings you here, friend?" He continues, forking more egg into his mouth.

Clearly, the boy was of the genial variety.

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

”Passing through.” Kurt said simply, a shrug rolling over his shoulders. It was true enough, this was just a small stop-over before he went and collected Kaile once again. Things had been going well as of late, and finally they had enough money that they wouldn’t be scraping the bottom of the barrel for fuel.

”Yo-” Kurt’s question was cut off by a very loud ‘bang’ followed by the clattering fall of dozens of pots and pans. The Pilot looked away from Yarva for a moment, turning his attention to the Kitchen and shifting slightly to see if he could catch a glimpse of whatever the droid was actually doing. ”Yourself?”

He said as he slowly fell back into his seat.

Kurt figured that if the droid was about to blow up the wall between them would be enough to keep him and his new friend alive, if not...well Jamie and Kaile would be told a very embarrassing story about how he had died due to an accident with a cooking droid on a random trade station in the middle of nowhere.

There were worse deaths.

 

[Carbon]

Yarva winced at the clattering, and he set his palms on the edge of the counter to push himself up. "Give me a moment, Kurt."

Moving around the counter, the boy simply pushed open the door and went into the kitchen. There was more clattering, a few choice words in what sounded like Mandalorian, and then the door swung outward.

And there came Yarva, hands up, with the droid menacingly waving a knife in his face - at least until it's track ran out and it couldn't go any further.

<No customers in the kitchen!> It's voice was nearly indiscernible through the static of its rusted vocabulator, and the boy tugged his duster down across his shoulders in a petulant gesture that attempted to restore his composure.

"Right, Bolts. Right." The droid clattered back into the kitchen, arms flailing like a puppet without strings.

Sighing, he moved back to his seat, going back to eating with a wary look to his violet eyes. "Passing through." He adds.

[member="Kurt Meyer"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

"Man that thing is just freaky." That was one way of putting it. Another would be that the droid had likely already poisoned both of their meals and was going to go on a rampage as soon as the two diners were dead. Kurt frowned for a second, looking at Yarva then towards the Kitchen where the droid had once again disappeared. For a few seconds he considered simply leaving, if only because he had no real want or need to get stabbed tonight.

Ultimately however his stomach convinced him to stay.

There was no telling when his next chance to eat would be, and he wasn't supposed to pick Kaile up for another day or two. Cooking on The Messa was unlikely, especially considering that...well he'd mostly ransacked the cabinets on his trip away from Sullust and grocery shopping hadn't exactly been on his list of things to do. It was eat now or starve to death for the next day or two, and that wasn't really an option that he wanted to go through.

"Yeah." He said slowly. "Where you from?"

It was an entirely appropriate quesiton to ask a Spacer. Everyone had a home, everyone had a story.

 

[Carbon]

"I mean, yeah." He admits, spewing food from his mouth as he spoke, though he brushes it across the counter in what was likely a quiet 'screw you' to Stabber McEggRuiner back there. "I wonder if the droid is the owner of this place, too." It was almost quirky enough to be charming, if you didn't mind losing your spleen to what was likely a dull blade. Thankfully, however, good ol' [member="Kurt Meyer"] didn't leave him alone with the psychopath.

Or was it sociopathic? He couldn't remember.

Either way the droid was all kinds of wrong. "Junction." He says finally, referring to the one near Mandalore that had more than 90% of it's population wiped out in the first Sith invasion of Mandalorian space in what was likely centuries.

So, if Kurt was well versed in galactic wars of the past twenty years, he'd know Yarva was one of the scant few who survived. Which likely meant a high level of survival skills. Hence why the droid hadn't killed him, clearly.

"You?"

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

Kurt did not pay attention to history, and thus when Yarva said the name Junction he drew a bit of a blank. A brief frown sat on his face as he tried to place the planet on the galactic map that sat in his head, though after a few moments he quickly gave up.

The only time he’d really ever paid attention to the Sith was when he’d been in the Republic Navy, and the Sith Empire had been around nearly twenty years ago...far too long a time for him to actually care or remember it. Of course, if he did realize where Junction was he might have formed a connection with the other man. Kurt’s parents had fled Dromund Kaas, and thus Sith Occupation, around the same time that the Sith had slaughtered their way across Junction.

”Tatooine.” He said as the droid beyond the wall began to squeak and beep once more. He cringed slightly as the automaton bounded through the kitchen door holding a single plate as well as a small dish filled with some sort of sauce. It half flailed it’s arms, throwing the plate in front of Kurt and slamming down the small cup.

Kurt looked up at the droid, then down at his food.

Half of him was somewhat impressed. In front of him sat one perfectly grilled Nerf Steak and littered beside it was a large pile of golden brown fries that were topped with some sort of red seasoning. The pilot looked down at the food, then up at the droid as if he were trying to assess exactly what was going on.

”This thing has to be doing it on purpose.” He said flatly. ”Or someone in the back is having a laugh.”

 

[Carbon]

There was a flicker of indecision behind [member="Kurt Meyer"]'s eyes, and Yarva looked to the kitchen as he spoke again. "It's near Mandalore." He says flatly, the droid careening through the door to slam down what was a surprisingly well prepared meal in front of the spacer nearby. Frankly, Yarva was impressed too. He'd never seen better prepared meat. Opposite Droid was clearly on top of his game.

If you were asking for the worst food in the galaxy, at any rate.

Maybe that had been his problem, he'd simply asked for food. So instead of getting slightly above par eggs, he'd gotten slightly below par eggs, even if it was still better than anything he'd have eaten back home.

"I didn't see anyone back there. I think the droid is just weird. Probably needs a good memory wi-" And he didn't get the rest of the sentence out, a knife appearing blade down through his plate.

The droid had thrown it, and it had landed perfectly. "Alright," he says, swallowing heavily, "guess the droid doesn't like that idea."

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

”You know.” Kurt said as he looked at the knife that had split Yarva’s plate in half, eyes slowly turning towards the droid as he considered booking it out of the restaurant. Slowly Kurt began to stand up from his chair, half leaning back so he could begin to leave.”Maybe it would be better if we jus le-”

As the words came tumbling from his mouth the droid slowly turned towards him.

It’s murderously bright photoreceptors seemed to glow with deadly intent, the knife was pulled from the bar, and Kurt could have sworn that the lights within the diner began to flicker as the chef set it’s gaze upon the Pilot. Kurt felt meek in that moment, as though he were a child being scolded by his mother for doing something he hadn’t supposed to.

A frown etched deep in his lips, and slowly the Pilot lowered himself back down onto his chair, offering the droid a placating smile. ”Nevermind.”

Were they hostages now?

It felt like it.

 

[Carbon]

Grimacing at the apparent hostage-taker they had ordered food from, Yarva deferred to Kurts attitude and meekly began to clear off his plate with heaping forkfuls of food.

"Yes, just clean off your plate of that delicious food." He says sideways to Kurt, but looking at the droid. The emphasis and slow speech said he was trying to impart a hidden meaning to his words.

Shut up. Eat. Eat it all. Play nice.

No reason to actually get stabbed. "So, where you thinking of heading next?" He asks, trying to keep some kind of conversation going so they were a little occupied.

But he kept one eye on that droid.

[member="Kurt Meyer"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

Kurt slowly began to eat, slowly taking up the knife and fork beside his plate and cutting into the Nerf Steak. Surprisingly, the droid had actually cooked the thing correctly, though as soon as he took his first bite he came to a sudden, and quite bad realization. The droid had seasoned the steak with anti-freeze coolant meant for a starships repulsors operating in cold weather.

He frowned, though swallowed the piece of meat, his eye twitching as he tried to contain himself.

”Sullust.” That was where Kaile was.

”Have a friend to pick up there.” She had gone back to check on some things with the SIS. Kurt had declined to go with of course, partly because he needed to take up another job and partly because he hated going to that place, it reminded him of a not so good time in his life. ”Great planet.”

There was a heavy drip of sarcasm in his voice.

Slowly Kurt reached down and picked up one of the fries, scooping it up and throwing it into his mouth. He expected to taste motor oil or something similar, but was instead greeted with a sort of spicy, salty taste instead. The pilot shrugged slightly, and decided not to question it.

 

[Carbon]

"It's a shithole." He says frankly, "I see no reason to be circumspect about it."

Finishing the plate, he slid it over to the other edge of the counter and set a credit chit next to it. The droid spun, then clattered forward to pick up the chit before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Now that, that was odd enough that he just... stared, for several long moments. "Odds on me not getting that back?"

[member="Kurt Meyer"]