The Sand Between Your Toes

[Subject 37]

[member="Joza Perl"]

Jorg slowly curled his toes, his arms resting on his knees, his feet planted firmly in the sand.

A sea breeze pushed by him, slowly pulling through his hair and spreading a pleasant air of salt. He smiled for just a moment, though the expression went away just as quickly as it had come. His eyes slowly floated over the ocean before him, his gaze contemplative and wondering.

This world wasn't exactly his dream vacation, in fact, he was pretty sure he didn't even have a dream vacation. After everything on Cloud City however, after his near court martial and the reprimands he had received the head of the 5th Legion had insisted that he take some shore leave. Jorg hadn't done something like that since the first few days of the One Sith, mostly because he'd never had the time for it. The Sith had never granted leave, only rotated soldiers to and from the front.

It had been it's own kind of reprieve, and now...now it seemed far more normal.

His fingers slowly cured into tight fists before uncurling. His gaze skipped away from the ocean in front of him for just a few moments, sailing down the beach. Most people had left already, with the sun crawling towards the horizon it was time for better suited night time activities. Jorg couldn't blame them, but he himself liked the silence that was slowly falling over the beach.

The Soldier closed his eyes.

Peace and quiet were so rare.

In the barracks there was always noise, someone cleaning, someone snoring. There was always something. On the battlefield it was the same way, silence was rare, it was something to be feared. Silence meant that something else was coming, something worse.

The soldier let out a deep breath, his eyes remaining closed as he simply tried to focus on the breeze gently rushing over his skin.

He tried to relax, tried to slow the rushing beat of his heart, tried to do anything to calm himself.

Yet all he felt was his nerves continuing to fray.

 

[Joza Perl]

The said that quiet made you calm.

Walking along the shoreline, she didn’t exactly feel calm. Uneasy? No, not that either. The beach on Zeltros was beautiful, this particular slice of land situated away from the hum and buzz of the inner city. It wasn’t remote, but it was more pleasant and safe. Grass, greenery and beautiful nature all around. Homes—actual houses—that weren’t sandwiched together as if you were trying to cram sardines into a can. There were spaces, yards even.

It wasn’t for her. If Joza had her way, she’d be right back in the center of Pleasure City. She’d grown up there, living in tight cluttered spaces with sounds all around. The hum of engines, shouts on the street, the pulsing beat from clubs and the noise of your neighbors fighting again. It made her feel so strange when she’d left to study the way of the Jedi, to sit in a confined silence that was supposed to help you clear your mind. It didn’t, at least not for her—she needed some sort of background noise, something ambient for her mind to latch onto. It was a comfort, like a security blanket or a stuffed animal. Made her feel normal and not alone. All the silence made her feel like she didn’t quite belong, like she was on the outside looking in to some big revelation everyone else was having.

It was all for Alan, her son. He wouldn’t know what it would be like to live in a studio apartment with your mother, to skip class and smoke deathsticks behind the school before work, to have to decide between paying the electric bill and getting groceries. He wouldn’t have to drop out to get a second job, rely on charm and whit and flesh to keep his head above water. He’d grow up nice and safe, go to a good school and get a good job.

Someday. For now though, she was content to walk along the beach and smile politely at the passersby. They became few and few as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, setting fire to the sky in a blaze of rich, dramatic colors.

There was a man, alone sitting in the sand. Minding his business, but looking out of place. Was it his posture, the sense of unease she felt from him?

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” She had approached him, stopping a few paces away and gesturing to the sunset. “It’s like this all the time here. Must be why we get so many visitors.”

[member="Jorg"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Joza Perl"]

Jorg almost jumped when he heard the woman speaking to him.

From the moment he had set foot on the planet he had done his best to avoid pretty much anyone and anything. There had been some very nice women that had approached him, but typical to Jorg he had sent them away. The Soldier wasn't comfortable with such situations, mostly because hed never actually encountered them before. There had never been any shoreleave for him, no encounters of that nature, not alone anyway.

He shifted in the sand slightly, looking up at the woman for just a moment before glancing back towards the ocean. The sun was now closer and closer to the horizon, and it created an orange burst within the water.

”Yes.” Jorg said quietly, looking at the water.

He Didn't really know what else to say. Jorg couldnt tell if the woman was just being friendly or if she wanted something from him like the others, but this was apparently her home so it was bes to be nice. ”Its nice.”

Jorg stared straight ahead, glancing down at his feet in the sand for a moment.

 

[Joza Perl]

He was shy. That, or he didn’t want to be disturbed. Zeltros wasn’t the place to go if you wanted your solitude, so she banked more on the former. She’d caught the twitch to his muscles as he nearly jumped and figured she’d startled him.

No use in calling attention to any of that, though. It was particularly tacky, unless you were either trying to neg or interrogate someone. Neither were on the menu for today—she was being friendly. Like most Zeltrons.

“Don’t usually see too many out around here this late.” The bonfires were usually in the more populated areas, and she’d already passed the token couple making love in the sands to the rhythmic sound of the ocean waves breaking against the shore.

She moved a little closer, slow and languid so as to not highlight herself as a threat. She didn’t stand beside him, rather diagonal to him as she faced the ocean. A few beats passed as she inhaled, lungs swelling with the faintly salty brine of ocean air. A slow exhale, and she continued.

“Are you here on vacation?” She turned her head to the side, giving Jorg a polite glance. Usually the vacationers were neck deep in the cities clubs and brothels.

[member="Jorg"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Joza Perl"]

He didn't answer for a few moments.

This wasn't something he was used to doing, being on vacation, talking to people. Jorg wasn't exactly brain dead of course, he could communicate just fine, but it had been...decades since he'd actually had to hold down talk with anyone who wasn't a Soldier or commanding officer. Oddly enough it was difficult, and even though he had done all of this before it seemed different somehow. Maybe it was because he wasn't wearing a uniform, maybe it was because he didn't have a blaster.

It was just different. Uncomfortable.

"I am." His voice sounded hoarse, as though he hadn't had anything to drink in a while. He cleared his throat for a moment, glancing up at Joza for just a few moments, bright blue eyes floating over her athletic form for just a few seconds before he looked back towards the ocean. "From the Alliance."

Most Zeltrons seemed to react positively to that news.

Though as far as he knew Zeltros didn't lean one way or another, it was clear that the people here were of the more peace loving variety. They liked visitors from all over, but apparently coming from the Alliance was an extra bonus point or two. Jorg figured it was because of the Alliance's reputation, and also because visitors from the GA also tended to have quite a bit of money to spend. It made sense after all, this world was practically built for tourists.

"You?" The question seemed silly, but it was polite to ask.

 

[Joza Perl]

“The Alliance?” There was a clear note of surprise in her voice, though not unpleasant in the least. Joza worked with the Galactic Alliance on a regular basis, drawing the Outer Rim’s support in their fight against the First Order. The ragtag power was on decent terms with the GA, sharing their quadrant of the galaxy with them and the growing imperial force to the northwest.

Joza tilted her head away from Jorg and back to the sea, eyes closing as she inhaled deeply again. Not to calm or steady herself, but just because it felt nice. “Are you a soldier?” There was no accusation, no malice, and no Force presence about him. She’d fought alongside Alliance soldiers before, but had never really given it much thought. With that note, she turned her passive gaze back towards him, making note of the scars on his face.

Striding a few paces forward, the Zeltron lowered herself into the sand beside Jorg, but still a good foot or two away. Legs stretched out in front of her, she adjusted her sundress so that it lay neatly and reclined back onto her hands with a satisfied sigh. “I live here.” She watched her toes as the idled through the sand, little painted rubies peeking out from beneath the grains as she dug her feet in. “I’m Joza.” Her name was a polite offer, though it’s very nature implied he reciprocate.

[member="Jorg"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Joza Perl"]

For a moment the Soldier didn't answer, instead he let his eyes wander. Slowly he looked towards the ocean, gaze set on the sun, then he drifted.

Bright blue poured over eccentric pink, taking in the slight gaze of her legs and ankles. He frowned for a moment as she dug her feet into the sands, his eyes set on her for just a moment before he slowly managed to pull back towards the sea in front of them. "Jorg."

He stated plainly.

It wasn't a very common name, but found frequently enough that no one would be able to identify him based on that sole factor. Of course no one knew his real last name, not even those in the Alliance. When he had joined the 5th Legion he had taken careful measure to hide his true identity, and so far no one had discovered that he hailed from the Tierel family back on Bastion, something that had likely saved him from a prison more than once by now.

"I am a soldier." He continued, oddly compelled to at least answer the question. "5th Legion."

It was an important, almost prideful distinction. "Must be nice to be here all the time."

 

[Joza Perl]

So her hunch was right—Jorg was indeed a military man. Now that she knew for sure it seemed obvious with the scars, the way he carried himself, the…rigidity.

“Yes, it must be.” She agreed, eyes unfocusing for a few moments on the steady roll of the waves out at sea. Of course he meant here, on the beachfront with all of the lovely homes and cute shopping districts. He didn’t mean the heart of the city, Indigo District where they were crammed like sardines into a violently industrial area choked with smoke and pheromones. She’d always wanted to leave, fed up with the Zeltros lifestyle in a fit of teen angst then suffered immediate homesickness once she’d left. Going to the Jedi was a complete culture shock. And she’d gotten her start with the Galactic Alliance.

Joza had nothing against them, and as far as she knew, they had nothing against her. Her name wasn’t likely known over there, at least not in any notable capacity. She’d chased the Silvers not long after surviving her first fight with the Sith, settling in on Voss for her next few years.

She couldn’t cut it, though. Not as a Jedi, not as anything vaguely monastic. Pursuing Heartbeat House and hanging around the Outer Rim brats had been good for her, at least for her soul. Made her grow and take responsibility. Well, maybe part of that came from being a new mother.

She had to smile at that thought, her son. The light of her life.

“How do you like the Alliance? Are they good to you?” She drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them as she gave [member="Jorg"] an inquisitive stare.

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Joza Perl"]

For a moment Jorg didn't answer, not really knowing how to reply. The Alliance was...well it was the Alliance. It was a government much like any other. They treated their soldiers well enough he supposed, but the only other thing he had to compare it to was the One Sith.

Even there he had been treated well enough. The Soldiers life wasn't really anything to be jealous of, just the opposite in fact. Even in the Alliance there would be months at a time where things would be absolutely and completely miserable. The only real difference between the two was that with the Alliance you didn't have to worry about your Commanding Officer deciding one day that you had failed at some task and thus needed to be executed.

That fate however could be avoided through a simple trick, not fraking up. "They..."

He paused for a second.

"They're alright." Jorg said finally, glancing at her briefly as if to assess if that would be enough. "There's always good officers, and there's always bad officers, no matter what side you're fighting on."

He trailed off.

 

[Joza Perl]

“Oh,” It wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting but it got the gears turning. Joza didn’t find it particularly odd that the Galactic Alliance wasn’t his first rodeo, at least. There were different military powers all over the galaxy, and many more who had risen and fallen long ago. She may have entertained the notion that Jorg had worked for a potentially enemy power at some point, but it was only for a moment and didn’t really hold a place in her mind.

“That makes sense.” She nodded slowly, turning his words over in her mind. Evidently there was some truth to that statement, even among the virtuous Jedi. While she tended to side with them as a whole considering that they didn’t routinely slaughter and maim, there were plenty who called themselves Jedi that she liked and did not like. Depending on the way you looked at it, some would still consider her a Jedi and some would not. Joza did not.

She never really gave the military much thought though. It was easy when soldiers were often faceless and uniform in appearance behind all that armor. Didn’t matter which side you were on, was just easier to handle things that way, she supposed.

It made her feel a little bad now, of course.

“So you’re on vacation then? You picked the best planet for that.” There was an edge of good natured humor in her tone. Zeltros was known far and wide as the party capital of the galaxy and depended heavily on tourism. Hell, her own father had been a tourist of a certain type.

“Where are you from?” An innocent enough question, of course.

[member="Jorg"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Joza Perl"]

As soon as she asked her questioned he tensed up.

The quesiton had come up before of course, but whenever it did Jorg couldn't help but feel like he was about to get caught. He shifted slightly in the sand, his eyes wandering for a few moments towards the ocean, almost as if he were searching for an answer.

"Borleias." It was a lie, the same one he told the Alliance. "Little town called Arul."

It was a believable lie. Jorg had the same complexion as the people of Borleias and they were generally a kind people. One of his squadmates had been from the world, and when he'd originally join the Alliance those stories had helped with what he had made them believe. "One of the few towns not on a beach there."

He quickly added.

His eyes wandered once more, looking towards the ocean and then towards his own feet. Then he glanced towards her, taking in the lines of her legs, the slight curve of her back, the way that she held herself as she sat within the sands. She was stunning, there was no doubt about it, but...there was something else about her, not bad, but almost as if she were wearing a mask.

 

[Joza Perl]

The tensing did not escape her notice, but she knew better than to call attention to it. Teenage Joza was a lot more brash and emotionally insensitive and would have loudly asked why he looked so nervous.

Now at least, she knew that there were reasons to be anxious because she’d felt them herself. Origins and reasons for pursuing your chosen path could be sticky subjects, didn’t matter if you were a Jedi or a soldier or an accountant.

“Do you miss it?” Her voice was tentative, catching the tail end of his glance with the corner of her eye and giving him a smile. Not an overbearing grin, but a calm, placid smile. Part of her wanted to move closer to the infectious energy of the city. She moved faster there, got things done quicker and more efficiently. Out here time seemed to move slower, limping along until you forgot that there even was a sense of time. The first few days she still walked quickly with a sense of urgency before some of the stress started to melt away.

“I grew up here.” She gestured toward the beach and the ocean as a whole before adding in a correction. “On Zeltros. In the city. I’d always wanted to leave, but when I finally did I realized that no every place was like Zeltros.” Her voice was smooth, recalling the memory with a pleasant rose tint. Granted, she left out the part where she’d joined the Alliance and bumbled her way through her first few engagements with the Sith, but that didn’t need to be said. Homesickness had played a major role in her development as a person.

“Less pheromones, you know?”

It wasn’t anything terribly personal or embarrassing, which was why she felt comfortable sharing it with a stranger. No details, no nitty gritty, just a light anecdote.

[member="Jorg"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Joza Perl"]

"Sometimes." He frowned.

Less Pheromones? That made sense he supposed. To many species they were incredibly heavy on the system. He for instance could practically feel them within the air, biting, burning almost. He supposed that they were intended to make him and other tourists more relaxed, but every time he took a whiff of the air he couldn't help but tense up further.

It was like being drugged. "Home is like nowhere else."

For a moment The Soldier looked glassy eyed. His true home of course wasn't Borleias, it was Bastion. He hadn't been home in almost two decades, ever since he'd first joined the One Sith. When his father had sent him away he'd left behind so much, his parents, his sister, his betrothed. The Legionnaire frowned slightly, shaking his almost as if to push memories away. He then glanced back towards Joza, taking in her expression before continuing to speak.

"Do you like it?" He questioned. "The Pheromones I mean."

It must have been different for her, for all Zeltrons in fact. He'd never really thought about it. "Do they have the same...effect on you?"

Genuine curiosity tinged his voice.

 

[Joza Perl]

“Mm.” A murmur of agreement for the home sentiment and nothing more.

His question had caught her off guard, giving way to a round eyed expression of mild surprise before it evened out into something more placid. Usually discussions concerning pheromones went differently, but there was a tinge of genuine curiosity to Jorg’s inquiry so she gave it a few moments of thought.

“I’m used to it.” It was the best way to explain her feelings on pheromones. “I was so used to it that I went into a sort of withdrawal when I left for the first time.” Not to mention that she’d willingly jumped into a strict, more monastic lifestyle. It had been hard but she coped. Only she couldn’t exactly remember how she had coped.

That, or she wouldn’t let herself remember.

“Kind of.” She pushed one of her legs through the sand, foot drawing a line slowly in the grains as it went. “I’m sensitized to them to a point. But I can tell when they’re present offword, usually.”

Pause as a thought occurred.

“Do you like it? The pheromones?”

[member="Jorg"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Joza Perl"]

He watched her foot slowly draw a line in the sand, following it's path.

"No." The Soldier said rather curtly. He wasn't about to lie to her just to endear himself to a stranger, that wasn't who he was. The Pheromones to him were like a drug, and a bad one at that. He understood why they were here, he understood that most people probably enjoyed them, and he even understood that by coming to Zeltros you consented to be around them in an odd way, but he still didn't really like them.

He frowned for a moment.

"They..." Jorg looked at her for a brief moment, drawing a line up her leg before meeting her eyes. "They're like a drug."

He stated flatly before continuing to speak. "You can feel them in a weird way, you know they're having an effect, but you can't really do anything about it."

That was why he didn't like getting drunk either, why he didn't like any substances of that nature. Sure it was alright to have a drink or two every now and again, but getting anywhere beyond that? Well he'd found out on Bespin just how bad it could get. His frown deepened for a moment as he thought about those moments, knowing that he'd never be able to completely be sure about what had happened that night, a fact that bothered him immensely.

He shook his head. "But I suppose that's just a part of seeing this sunset."

Jorg couldn't gripe too much, he'd chosen Zeltros for his vacation after all.

 

[Joza Perl]

She wasn’t surprised. Not entirely, but enough for a brief flash to show on her face.

He didn’t seem like the type to immerse himself in a sea of pheromones, or else he’d be deep within the city center by now, sitting in a club with a pink girl or two on his lap. That was just how things went on Zeltros.

Instead he was here, in a more isolated part of the planet. Still technologically on par, mind you, but quieter. But still Zeltros.

“You like to have control over yourself.” She spoke slowly as if the thought was forming on her lips. A deliberate nod followed along with the silence and she looked out towards the sunset.

Joza shifted in the sand, patting down her bodice for something. After rifling through an inner pocket, the Zeltron retrieved a square piece of flimsi packaging and held it out to Jorg.

“Here. It’s an anti-pheromone patch.” She nodded towards it, the patch being in its original packaging. “I’m not trying to feed you any hallucinogens, promise.”

A corner of her lip ticked upwards in a quasi-smile at that.

“Helps with missions and stuff to keep focus and minimize distractions. Might make you more comfortable here.”

[member="Jorg"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Joza Perl"]

He frowned for a few moments, looking at the package suspiciously and not quite sure what to make of it.

Generally the Soldier was against taking any sort of drug unless they were handed to him by a doctor. That was mostly because of his own aversion to being poisoned, lately however this had grown even worse. He frowned for a few moments as he mentioned hallucinogenics and instantly he couldn't help but think about his experience on Bespin.

After a second of thought he shook his head. "No thank you."

Jorg didn't want to insult her of course, so he quickly began to explain himself.

"I had..." He trailed off for a moment, attempting to think of just how to explain the situation without getting into too much detail that would end up disturbing the both of them. The night that he had been drugged was something he still hadn't figured out. "I had a bad experience recently."

His head shook. "I think I'd rather just to into the ocean a bit."

That seemed like a good idea.

"Swim a little." He'd always liked swimming.

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza withdrew the patch without so much as a complaint, nodding in understanding.

Well, she didn’t understand what Jorg’s bad experience was, but she understood that it had been a bad experience and would not push. She supposed that it had something to with drugs, or perhaps sex. Maybe the two blended together.

Not the best word to be on in that case.

Slipping the patch back into her pocket, she perked up a bit. “Swimming?” She looked towards the ocean with its gently rolling waves. There were several islands further out that acted as breakers, leaving the waves on this shore to less aggressive.

“Would you mind if I joined you?”

[member="Jorg"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Joza Perl"]

For a few seconds Jorg didn't say anything at all, he was like a nexu caught in headlights. The idea that she would ask to go swimming as well had never really occurred to him. He had assumed she would simply leave and go back to doing whatever zeltrons did when they weren't talking to other people or trying to seduce them. So for a few seconds he simply sat there, heartbeat growing louder.

Eventually he realized that he had to answer.

”Okay.” Jorg finally said, mostly because he had no idea what else to say. He couldn't really tell her no, after all it wasn't like he owned the ocean or anything. Plus she had been nice to him and he didn't really want to make a habit of scaring away kind strangers. A frown pulled at his lips for a moment however, though it was quickly replaced by an odd sort of neutral expression.

After about a minute Jorg slowly stood.

His toes squished into the soft sand as he pressed himself up, his hand reaching up to pull off the white shirt he had been wearing. The Soldier didn't give it a second thought as he stripped off the garment, revealing muscled scarred flesh and a host of tattoos.

Without another word he began to wander towards the ocean.

 

[Joza Perl]

He didn’t seem exactly enthused at the prospect of swimming with her.

Maybe he was just too nice to say no—she certainly got some awkward vibes from him. Normally Joza would have big farewell and gone on her way, leaving an anxious man to himself. But she found that she wanted to stay, or rather that she didn’t want to leave easily. The Zeltron was only vaguely aware of her own loneliness, desiring companionship that wasn’t just physical.

It was nice just to be around a living, breathing human. Or near-human, humanoid, take your pick. She wasn’t soul-crushingly alone, but rather Joza needed constant stimulation and a lot of attention. As such, her life was naturally very busy and didn’t offer much in the way of downtime—and when she got it, like right now, she didn’t know what to do with it. No bright lights, no hum of engines, no idle chatter coming from all directions. Just the distant sound of the ocean. It was almost suffocating.

She watched for a moment as he lifted his shirt, an appreciative glance sliding over his muscled form as the fabric would shift over his head. The jagged flesh of scars and tattoos were of little surprise given that he was a soldier. She knew very few in the military who didn’t have at least one of the two.

In accordance, she stood up and shimmied out of her sundress so that she was only in her underwear. No bathing suit, just lace. Like Jorg, Joza’s body played host to a number of scars, though most of them were much harder to see after being covered in creams, concealers and dark ink. The raised flesh would be noticeable to the touch, though she highly doubted it would come to that.

And that was alright with her.

“Interesting ink.” She made an idle comment, not particular about which piece.

[member="Jorg"]