SithLore

Mygeeto, K-5
Orbital Spaceport

The young man sat there in the darkness. Alone. True, he could taste the bitterness of the recycled air the space station's filtration system pumped through the docking bay. He could feel the comforting presence of the lengthy wooden stick grasped gently between his fingers and where it found rest against his knee. He could hear the sounds of movement all around him; the shuffling of feet, rustling of spacer's clothes, hushed conversations in language and dialect he did not understand, the sounds of heavy machinery and loading droids tending to the cargo and freighters that bore them. But there was only darkness around him, a darkness his eyes could not pierce. But that was no fault of the cloth bandaging that covered his eyes, its coarse fabric an ever present sensation on the bridge of his nose. Corren Bain could not see. And he never could.

The young man sat there in his self assumed isolation, a hand occasionally drifting up from the smoothed stick to rub his temple and rise up to brush against his hair. Black in colour, he'd been told once. Whatever that was supposed to look like. He was waiting, anxiously so. The cargo freighter he'd boarded had completed its run and the captain gone to receive his next shipping lane assignment. It was hardly the Hydian Way, but this little stretch of hyperspace lane was a profitable area for haulers in the sector. Corren simply hoped he'd be going further down too.

"So Captain, where to now?" Corren spoke up, head not moving toward the direction he was posing the question at. There was a moment of silence before Corren once more added to the noise of the starport.

"You have a pretty bad limp. Can hear you coming."

The explanation did not recieve the response Corren had been expecting. The captain gave a sigh. From the way the man spoke next, Corren could assume he had a look of pity on his face. Whatever that looked like. He was a twi'lek, right? Or had the engineer on the hauler been messing with him and he was in fact a Cerean?

"Corren, I'm not taking you any further. The hauler's headed back for Dantooine anyways. I think it's best you come with us." The Captain explained. Corren jumped in his skin slightly as he suddenly felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder. It eased away, before slowly settling back down in a comforting manner.

"I know it... sucks, being stuck on Dantooine. But your aunt can take care of you there. This galaxy, kriff- it can be a dangerous place. There's a lot yo-"

"Won't see coming." Corren interjected. There was no hostility in his voice, no disappointment either. He spoke matter of fact. The captain sighed once more.

"Maybe once the galaxy finally starts to settle down. But not right now."

"Thank you letting me stay with your crew, Captain. And thank you for your friendship to my Aunt. I'm sure she appreciates it." Corren finished, a hand lowering down and pulling the small traveler's pack closer to the crates he'd sat himself down against. A message of intent. He would stay here, and move forward. Where? He did not know. He twisted his head toward the source of the captain's voice, dipping his head politely.

"...we're refueling and the loading droids are at work. We leave in an hour." The Captain simply said before Corren could hear the oddly timed footsteps of the older man walking away. "See you then kid."

Corren clenched his jaw and dipped his head downward. An exhale slowly departed his nostrils. His path forward may have been lost, but his conviction remained. This docking bay wouldn't be his final stop.

(OOC: Welcome again! Hope you don't mind me jumping in.)

Alarm bells echoed around in Ordona’s head, silent to everyone else, but increasing in their volume with every passing moment. She knew it was paranoia and worry, something she thought she’d long since grown past. Her new allegiance to the Galactic Alliance wasn’t public knowledge, and she planned to keep it that way. There was no reason anyone but a few officials in the GA and Derric would know of it.

Yet the panic continued.

Ordona took a deep breath, steadying herself through sheer force of will. She ran her hands up through her dark hair, first undoing and then pulling it back again into its customary ponytail. It was a nervous habit she’d developed sometime in the last year. Ordona didn’t like having habits, especially nervous ones. They would make her predictable and that would get her killed.

Enough. Get to work. The sooner you get back to work the sooner you can get off of this station, Ordona berated herself silently. The voice was right. She had finished meeting an informant just hours ago. He had given her information about the slaving ring she’d found herself tangled up in recently, and she needed to get back to GA space so she could report.

But first she had to finish loading The Darkstar Crusader, or rather Queen of Calamity as the false transponder stated. It was ostensibly the reason she had come to Mygeeto in the first place. A supplier had a set of rare crystals for sale. This supplier wasn’t someone the Alliance could purchase from directly, but Ordona’s position as an interested third party made her the perfect intermediary. Truthfully the Adegan crystals would likely go to the Jedi Coalition to be used in lightsabers.

Each of the five crystals she’d purchased was hidden in the center of a crate of the less rare and less expensive artesian crystals that Mygeeto was known for. Ordona watched as the docking bays droids pushed the hoversleds to load the last two crates. She heard the sputtering of the repulsorlift before she realized what was happening.

The sled tilted. Slowly at first, and then with increasing quickness. Ordona reached for the Force, planning to stop the crate from tipping, but she saw people watching in her peripheral vision and hesitated. If they saw her use the Force, she’d blow what little cover she had and they’d probably lock the hanger doors until she was captured or killed.

The crate hit the floor with a resounding crack and the lid slipped free, crystals rolling across the floor. Ordona could only hope that she could find and hide the Adegan crystal from sight before anyone else found it and realized what it was.

The resounding thud, crack and clatter to Corren's side broke him from his introspection. It was pointless to move his head in the direction of the sudden noise, but it was biological instinct. The sputtering prior to it gave Corren the understanding he needed to guess what was happening. It didn't surprise him that much. As far as he could tell from passing snippets of conversation the orbital dock wasn't known for its stellar class maintenance. He was about to twist his head back down when he felt something bump against his boot. Corren's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he tentatively snaked his hand from the wooden branch down to the rustic metal floor. Searching fingers eventually brushed against the object.

He rose from his seated position against the crates, running his fingers over the thing that had bumped against his foot. Some kind of small rock? It felt the size of one, the right coarse feeling with the occasional jagged edge. Yet it was oddly light in weight. Corren's other hand latched his travelling pack over his shoulder before moving cautiously toward the sound of the loading droids moving to set the crate back into place. The young man held what he assumed to be a rock outward slightly before speaking up.

"Think you dropped this." He spoke with the assumption the owner would either reclaim it or dismiss it. If it really was just a pebble from Mygeeto then Corren doubted it'd be of any value. Part of him cringed how he must appear; a blind man carefully ambling along with a rock outstretched in his hand, dressed in dusty old farmer's clothes and talking to thin air.

"Although I'm, not sure what 'this' is." He added a moment later, a light smile finding its way to his face.

[OOC: By all means feel free!]

Xerxes wondered the port, he had little better to do as this was nothing more than a resupply stop for him. The 'Rust Bucket' was being attended to by Tex and Scrap ensuring the refuelling and restocking went according to schedule. He hadn't need of anything too sensitive so had decided that a stop off planetside would do him good rather than going to yet another BSP way station. The temperature wasn't great, he had to admit, but it wasn't bad either, the trapping of civilisation meant the docking bay was at least comfortable. Then again considering how prosperous the planet supposedly was he had to wonder if they intentionally made the docking bays like this to encourage people to move deeper into the cities and potential markets. It would be what he would do in their position. Dressed in a white shirt with a leather jacket vest and durable black trousers with a scuff mark on the belt that hinted at a missing holster he looked the part of the spacer that he was. He sidled from bay to bay paying no real attention to what was going on in any one in particular, the multi-occupancy bays playing host to dozens of travellers with their individual stories however, he wanted to test his skills, something he hadn't really done in the galaxy at large. First he dropped into the Force lowering the mask he normally had pulled up to hide his own Force signature and this time tapped into the one skill he had neglected for all too long.

He closed his eyes out of reflex as he reached out with his full strength into the Force the mixture of colours that was his second sight, which felt more like his true sight nowadays, came into clear focus. However, this was something that happened every time he opened himself up to the Force, this time he was reaching out to get a sense of those around him for their potential. He stopped outside one of the bays as someone particularly well trained by the sense of them hesitated, the box they were obviously going to save tumbled and within it was a bright spark of power, a Force attuned crystal if he had to guess. Yet he brushed past these distractions to something that had almost been missed, a guttering flame or maybe simply a spark trying to ignite but, whatever it was it showed potential and felt oddly familiar to him. A potential he realised he had felt in himself. The flame within whoever it was seemed to ape his own wellspring of strength. Ignoring the busy activity that was occurring around the freshly spilt crate he pulled his mask back up hiding himself within the Force while only utilising the smallest part of it as he opened his eyes to keep the overlay of his second sight that he had become so accustomed to. The figure he was drawn to was surprising at first, but he knew that many would have dismissed him in his early training in a similar manner even now the lithe musculature of his form meant many underestimated his physical capabilities.

He stopped a little away from the man as he took note of the stick and the cloth over his eyes. Okay, this is new, how to approach someone who might not be able to see you coming in a nonthreatening manner. Well there was the simply answer, but that wouldn't work if the guy didn't know where the greeting as aimed. Not that he needed to wait long, something roused the man from his seated position and seeing his slow deliberate walk towards where the crate had fallen he realised it was no act. Xerxes sighed, he had been hoping to talk to the man alone, get a read on him but, he just so happened to be going towards the one person he would rather not chat to, the other Force user. Xerxes made sure his mask completely sealed away his Force signature and approached. When he spoke it was hearty and conversational "Sister, I think something may have gotten away from you, it seems the guy here found something that came out of your crate" he disliked using the term sister in this regard but, it was something the more jack the lad spacer would likely say rather than Miss, which would have been his first instinct

Ordona’s scanned the ground, her hazel eyes passing over the regular crystals of Mygeeto and searching, fruitlessly, for the one that would damn her if anyone else found it. Her panic ratcheted up a notch when she felt an unfamiliar presence pass over her in the Force. She opened herself to the flow of the Force, trying to ascertain if the unknown being had any hostile intent or perhaps searching for the same crystal she was. Was the failure of the hoversled a manufactured mishap? Did someone already have the Adegan crystal in hand, running off with it even now? Before she could search more deeply in the Force for this other presence, it vanished.

And then her questions were answered.

“Think you dropped this.”

Ordona spun around, but forced herself to stop before reaching out to snatch the crystal from the speaker’s hands, lest she draw more undo attention. It was only when the man spoke again that Ordona realized he was blind. Relief warred with concern inside her. Was he the one she’d felt in the Force? Tentatively, she cast her senses out, over the man. His was not the presence that had passed over her, but none the less, she felt the stirrings of the Force within him. There was something wild and untamed about it, but solid.

He smiled slightly at her and Ordona found herself returning the gesture before realizing it was fruitless. He wouldn’t be able to see it. Instead she responded verbally, her words calm and steady despite the panic of just a few moments ago.

“I did, indeed. Thank you, Mr. …” she trailed off, leaving the young man room to fill in the gap with his name. Before the youth could answer, another man approached and broached the conversation. He called Ordona ‘sister’ and repeated a rather obvious fact. Ordona found herself immediately annoyed with him, but she suppressed the emotion. There was nothing wrong with what he was doing.

He’s just trying to be helpful, she told herself.

“Yes. I was just thanking him for it,” Ordona said. She smiled affably at the pair, giving them both a once over and searching visually for weapons. Though she didn’t see any, that didn’t mean they weren’t carrying something hidden away. Still, she relaxed a bit. Perhaps she could get her crystal and get out of here without any more trouble.

“I’ll just go ahead and take that back. I could give you a few credits for your trouble?” she offered. It felt strange on her tongue. She was still getting used to the way the rest of the galaxy did business. As a Sith she would have taken the crystal and let him be thankful for his life. Ordona reached out to take the crystal, going slowly so as not to startle the blind lad.

"Oh, Bain." Corren replied. It wasn't a strange thing for him to introduce by his last name, in fact more common than using his first. Back on Dantooine their farm had been isolated, just as many others were around them. By introducing by family names it made it easier to make connections; who was staying at whose homestead, what breed of Bol they raised or how close they were to kinrath nests.

Corren let the crystal be removed from his gentle grasp, his fingers brushed against its edges thoughtfully as he imparted it back to its rightful owner. His hand fell back to his side, opposite appendage still clasping his walking stick. Corren's head twitched back over his shoulder briefly toward the new voice he'd heard. Corren had assumed the footsteps to simply carry a dock worker moving to hoist the crate up or check the faulty repulsorlift. Clearly he wasn't, though... the way he entered the conversation was peculiar. He'd learnt over the years the value of learning people's voices, the intentions behind them. Corren had no facial cues to read, no body language to notice that might give away someone's feeling or intent.

The new spacer by his side seemed friendly enough, if only to clarify what was transpiring. The woman on the other hand sounded...taken aback. By the gesture or her own words. She was probably not used to such behavior. Not everyone was born into friendly communities. The polite smile returned to Corren's features, accompanied by a slight chuckle.

"For picking up a rock? It's fine." Corren said. The logical side of his brain cringed at this. He needed credits, who didn't? It might help with finding passage, or at the very least get him a hot meal over the food paste and expiring ration packs he'd scrounged up for food. And he looked like he could use them too. The pair talking to him would be able to see his travelling clothes and pack were dirtied and old, black hair cut short but still messy and see the unkempt stubble coating his jawline and skin above his lip that seemed to age Corren a fair deal. Even with this he still looked like he'd barely pushed twenty rotations old.

Corren needed credits. But for this, he didn't want them. It would feel wrong.

Xerxes could have cursed as he realised his mistake, in trying to craft his persona he'd missed the more natural point where his interjection into the conversation would have made more sense. Honestly it was an amateurish mistake to make, all he could do was try and play it off as best he could. His eyes went to the crystal that Bain had handed to here, Adgean. As he got close he felt a flicker of power run through the shards of a similar crystal that had gotten imbedded in his chest during some of his early experimentation. If he hadn't been actively trying to maintain the quey'tek mask to cover his signature he may have been exposed, as it was the crystal simply reacted which could have been chalked up to the one holding it. However, he didn't miss the flicker of her eyes; they took in the typical positions for weapons. In his case that included the scrape on the belt on his right side where a holster would normally be clipped. Standing 5ft 8" he wasn't particularly intimidating and hopefully the aloof attitude he was trying to portray made him even less so. That being said he wasn't unarmed, a concealed shiv in his boot toe was a constant companion but, other than that he wasn't carrying anything. When she offered to give the cripple some money Xerxes had to admit he was surprised he had expected her to simply be grateful and leave it at that and the man surprised him even more by turning down the offer. His eyes flicked over the traveller and felt an odd twinge of nostalgia, though not exactly the same as himself his first interaction in the galaxy at large had started with him in tattered clothes and trying to pick the wrong, or right depending on how you looked at it, pocket.

"Well tell ya what" he stated heartily a broad smile on his face knowing that even if it couldn't be seen it would affect his voice slightly so would hopefully be conveyed. "Why don't I help ya with this mess Sister and we can head to a tapcafe. Tha'away ya can treat ta man and I get a chat with someone otha than ta dock masters." He really wanted a chance to talk to the man to try and figure out why his Force signature felt oddly familiar but, he couldn't think of a way to politely get away from the woman and he couldn't really speak freely with her around anyway. If they were having a meal together at least he could ask some of his questions without arousing suspicion. "Ah" he continued somewhat absentmindedly "Sorry, forgot ta tell ya, the names Kidron, but everybody just calls me Kid."

Surprise rippled through Ordona when the kid, Bain, turned down the offer of credits. She eyed him again, this time not searching for weapons, but merely looking at him. Her appraisal came up… lacking. His hair was a mess, and his clothes were clearly old and worn. Ordona felt some small margin of sympathy rise up in her. In the past, she would have squashed the useless emotion. Instead, she welcomed it.

“Why don't I help ya with this mess Sister and we can head to a tapcafe. Tha'away ya can treat ta man and I get a chat with someone otha than ta dock masters.”

Ordona eyed the newcomer, letting the silence stretch a beat or two too long. He responded by giving his name and Ordona couldn’t help the low chortle that escaped her throat. She smiled at him, letting him know it was a harmless laugh and not meant to offend. She glanced at the mess of crystals on the floor before she spoke.

“That sounds wonderful, Kid. But I’ll do you one better. Let’s leave this to the droids and we can go now.” She nodded to T0-MS, her protocol droid. He teetered over with the odd walk of his kind and bowed slightly.

“Toe-mas” Ordona began, using her nickname for the droid. “See to this cleanup, please. Let… Sera know I’ll be back shortly and that she’s in charge until I return.” Ordona stumbled over the name of her human-replica droid. She didn’t want to give away information to these strangers, and defaulted to the name of Rani Churs’ old HRD. It was a slip and she knew it, but there was nothing to be done for it now. Instead she turned to the two men in front of her and motioned forward.

“I know just the place.” She started through the spaceport, planning to take them to a quiet café she’d discovered just the other day when meeting with her seller for the crystals. It was a smallish place, just off the beaten path, named The Crystal Cup after Mygeeto’s main export.

Corren shifted slightly on the spot, opening his mouth to speak but pausing on his words. Logic finally won over his polite etiquette, that or the rumbling of his stomach. He could hardly turn down such an offer, even if he didn't want to be any more of a burden than he had to me. And then again, moments earlier he had contemplated asking for a ride. In the end his lips clamped shut and he dipped his head. Of course he did not see the gesture, but the sound of motion and her word were enough to make Corren realise he had to follow.

"What brings you to this charming port in the stars?" He asked, to both of the individuals walking with him. Corren trailed behind them by a dozen paces, end of the stock he carried tapping against the floor occasionally. The man didn't seem to rely on it too much as he had beforehand. Rather he used the sound of their walking and the voices of the other two spacers as an indication of where to move. It was half the reason he asked the question. The other half curiousity. He'd rarely talked to someone who didn't grow up under Dantooine's sun. Corren didn't have too much trouble following them in this manner, the sounds of other conversation from passing spacers or dock workers being minimal.

The lad beamed as the woman suggested they leave it up to the droids and head to a local tapcafe right away. Inside however Xerxes had mixed feelings about leaving everything to the droid, sure it was its job and would do it to exacting yet... The disquiet he felt he knew was because he saw droids differently than most and the two he kept, Tex and Scrap, were almost independent in a lot of ways. Heck even the droid brains on his ship had a burgeoning self awareness which had been unintended but he couldn't take it away from them now. However he fell instep easily with the ship mistress as she led them away, his own ruse not something he was will to give up on right now and pushed the disquiet to the back of his mind. He tried to affect a nonchalant walk but, not unguarded. A spacer, even one who was legitimate through and through didn't last long by being too lax with his personal safety. Though he kept pace with the woman he made sure he was a step outside her apparent reach so if she tried anything he would have a moment to react, he also made sure to stay just outside the reach of the tapping cane behind them and his eyes flicked to the apparently blind Bain every other step. Not something noticeable to the lay person but, not so subtle that those who knew what to look for would miss it. In a way he was broadcasting he was comfortable with the company and situation but, he was no fool. When Bain asked his question Kid chuckled.

"I'm a dock hopper, or at least that's what most calls my kind. Not part of any larger organisation but, not an established independent either." He was trying to portray a certain bon ami in his tone to ingratiate the others. "Essentially I go from dock to dock throughout the galaxy picking up the odd job here and there by contract but, mostly I use what little capital I have to buy cargo ship it to where I think I can make the most profit and then start over again." It was true, or at least as close as to make no difference, "though I'm here as a stopover, the junker I own needed a bit of resupplying before I continue on with my journey." Spinning a tale similar to the one Briant had told him when she had picked him up that day when she and Corran had offered him two paths to take. He had never regretted the path he had taken but, he had to wonder what he hoped to accomplish with this. Did he want to recruit the blind man, why? He couldn't answer that right now all he knew was he wanted to get to know him a little better and if he had to suffer this facade thanks to the woman so be it.