for_everyone | (no subject)

(no subject)

The ship does land in one piece. As she'd suspected from the moment she saw it, the stolen ship is a rare Imperial shuttle made for stealth. She leans easily into these controls, quietly whipping through space, even after it became apparent that the patrolling TIEs had been ordered to find the ship's escaped prisoners. Hera had dodged among them, evading their scopes and radars, as she flew the shuttle far out enough to make the jump to hyperspace. In the end, it was only one unfortunate fighter that managed to catch sight of her.

The shuttle's weapons systems are nothing special, she learned. But they did the job.

The jump to Batuu was only about three hours, even with the slightly roundabout route Hera decided to take. The girls, fortunately, seem to be accustomed to space travel. Occasionally they whisper to each other, but otherwise, they tend to stay quiet unless Hera speaks to them. About an hour in, Hera recommends that they get some sleep, and the girls don't object.

It's midafternoon at Black Spire when they reach the planet. Hera is careful on her approach, avoiding likely lanes of traffic – she doesn't want to run into questions about the stolen shuttle she's flying. But then, most who visit Batuu aren't the type to ask questions. But she still chooses to land the shuttle in a clearing, surrounded by dense forest, about five kliks downriver of the outpost.

As the shuttle touches down, she turns to the girls. "Are you all right?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Are there more people like that in the galaxy," Sucasa asks as they move away, beaming up at Hera. "And do you get to meet all of them?"

It seems like it would be a wonderful adventure.

Wrema grabs her left hand in her right and holds on for a second, releasing all her tension in a painful squeeze.

"Will the next sale go like that, too?"

"There are others," she says to Sucasa, as they head away from the stall.

(She even manages not to wince when Wrema squeezes her hand, though she's considerably gentler in returning it.)

"I've only seen a Sljee like her once before, I don't think they travel from their world that much."

In turn, to Wrema, she says, "If we're lucky they'll be like that. Sometimes the traders are more stubborn, or dishonest."

"Can you tell?" Wrema asks, looking up at Hera carefully. "When people are lying to you. I'm not very good at it, but sometimes . . . " She trails off for a second. "Sometimes I can. If that would help?"

Sucasa looks back, shoulders tightening a little, because she already knows the answer to her next question. But --

"Will we get to do that, too? Visit other worlds and stay in them, once we go back home."

"I can tell sometimes," she says to Wrema. "But not the way you can. I'd be glad to have your help."

As to Sucasa...

"I'm not sure. I've never been to your home, so I don't know what it's like."

She pauses, her footsteps halting for a moment. Carefully, trying not to weight the question, "Is it want you want, to go back home?"

"Yes," Wrema says instantly, firmly. Her next words are a little shakier, just around the edges. "We should. We're needed."

Sucasa is silent, shoulders hunched in on themselves.

Then --

"I hate being on ships all the time."

Hera takes a deep breath, lets it out. People passing are doing so very close to them - this really isn't a place to stand still.

"I'm going to sell a few more things," she says, quietly, to both of them. "And then we'll buy some food, and we'll talk. Is that all right?"

Sucasa nods, after looking to Wrema to make sure that's okay. Wrema is the one that speaks, however.

"It's okay. We'll -- we'll help you if we can, too. While you talk."

She ruffles Sucasa's hair with one hand, because from the great edge of almost-ten she's the one who has to be in charge of this.

Hera nods, and begins to walk with them again.

She takes them to five different stalls, between which she sells several of the medications they recovered, the vac-suit, and some of the tools that Sucasa had found. Most of the trades aren't so different from the first, though a few require Hera to start to pack up her wares before she's offered a price she'll accept. By the end, Hera's pack is considerably lighter, though now she's a little weighed down by coins. Wupuipi can be safer than credits, but they're also less convenient.

"This should be enough to hold us for a little while." Not enough to get passage off this planet if she needs it, but Hera will deal with that when the time comes. She leads the girls out of the bay again, into the sunlight, and onto the sprawling streets of the outpost.

"What do you like to eat?"

"Can you teach us about currency?" Wrema asks, blinking quickly against the onslaught of sunlight. "It seems like it's important."

Sucasa, who is still entranced (and trying not to show it) by all the different species on this planet, and in the bay, and on the street, just shrugs, and answers Hera's actual question.

"We eat a lot of protein paste? Sometimes with spices. I like juice! And fruit. Wrema doesn't like things that are sweet."

"Oh, um -" Do they not have money in the Chiss homeworld? Or maybe these girls have just never had to use it. "I can teach you about it once we stop somewhere."

Hera pauses as they're passing one of the lower, rounded towers in the outpost, its doors also wide open, and the pleasant smell of roasting meat emanating from it. She glances inside, and sees what looks like a single podracer enginge hanging from the ceiling, occasionally revving to life, thin, short flames bursting along the engine's edges, presumably cooking food set along a grill below it.

"Can you eat meat?"

Sucasa's mouth, is already watering.

"We can!" she says, starting to go inside the building, toward the food, and then pausing, because maybe --

"Can you?" Wrema asks, anticipating Sucasa's question. "Because this place smells really good."

Hera doesn't try to stop Sucasa from leading them in.

"Don't worry," she says quickly, when they hesitate. "I can eat it, too."

And she's really hungry, too. "Come on, let's see what they have."

What they have is meat, and lots of it. There's a giant carcass under the flames that pieces can be carved from, and there's several different types of dried meat laid out in long strips, with different flavorings. The girls peer at each of them, trying to distinguish by smell which ones are likely to taste the best. There's juice, too, in bright colors, and it has ice in it, which Sucasa seems particularly fascinated by.

They spend a minute or two watching other people order, as if wanting to fully understand how the process works. Because it's not as simple as just getting chunks of meat, there's soft, round bread involved, and greens and other toppings, and again, the juice.

"I want some of that," Sucasa says, pointing to the ronto haunch that is the centerpiece of the shop. "Can I get that?" Wrema asks, gesturing toward some of the longer strips of some kind of bird-meat. They both request the bright pink meiloorun fruit juice, despite not having any idea what its name is.

Hera listens as they explain what they want, but pauses at Wrema's order. Still, she gives them a nod, and then approaches the counter, where the man on the other side is slowly turning the Ronto meat roasting beneath the engine. The smell makes her stomach ache, though there's a pleasant, familiar feeling to the heat on her face.

"Those are Tatooine flags, right?" she calls to the man, in Basic. "I used to watch races on Malastare."

They talk briefly, the man, Bakkar, describing selling roast ronto and gorgs at races outside Mos Eisly, Hera mentioning that she'd raced a few times herself. And then, she asks for a small piece of the bird-meat he has on grill racks below the engine, which Bakkar provides.

Hera takes the piece of meat, and turns to Wrema. "Some species, like me, are allergic to this," she explains. "If you want to try, just a little bit won't hurt you, but you'll know pretty fast whether you want more."

Wrema regards the bit of meat suspiciously for a second, but Hera said it won't hurt her even if it's not something she should really eat, and it smells so good . . .

So she takes it from Hera's hand after another moment of contemplation, taking a tiny bite of it, chewing, and swallowing.

"Is that enough?" she asks, after waiting a moment. And, because it's there, and she's very hungry, she eats the rest of the piece post-haste.

Sucasa peers at her very closely, hoping that Wrema doesn't fall over or start crying.

"What does allergic mean?"

So she knows what to watch out for!

"'Allergic' means eating a kind of food can make you sick."

Hera watches Wrema for a few more moments, and then, "But it looks like you're okay."

And she did keep a few of those medications they recovered, just in case. Hera turns back to the counter, and orders two ronto wraps, a nuna wrap, and three glasses of meiloorun juice. Bakkar brushes the nuna meat thick with spices, and slides finely chopped vegetables along the ronto wraps. Hera hands each dish down to the girls as they arrive, and Bakkar gives her a tray for the glasses of juice.

She nods in the direction of a set of metal tables and benches that have been bolted to the floor. A few are occupied, but there's one along the edge of the wall that's a short distance from the others. "Let's go over there."

Sucasa continues peering nervously at Wrema as they make their way toward the tables, just in case she gets sick between one breath and the next. It could happen!

But she's very distracted once she sits down and looks at her food, mouth watering more than a little. She waits to eat, though, because Hera is in charge here, and she should eat first.

Wrema, too, sits and folds her hands in her lap, looking to Hera to wait for a signal. In the field it's different, but this is not the field. Or is it? It's hard to tell, just now.

Hera glances down at them, but doesn't need to ask to get the picture. She immediately lifts up her wrap, and takes a small bite of it.

(She'd really like to reach for her glass first, but the girls are hungry, and she's not sure how exactly the rules of this work.)

It's only three seconds later that Wrema picks up her ronto wrap and digs in. Sucasa joins her after another moment, and they make their way quickly through the meal, with Sucasa leaving a lot more of a mess than Wrema. Her hands are smaller!

She also looks up sooner than Wrema, saying, "Sorry," because of the amount of mess that's on her hands and cheeks. Keeping ingredients in the wrap is harder than it looks.

Hera reaches under her plate, and hands napkins to both of the girls.

Still, she assures Sucasa, "There's nothing wrong with being hungry."

After taking a sip of the meiloorun juice, she watches the girls for another moment, before she asks, "Is this anything like what you eat at home?"

"Thank you," Wrema says, with Sucasa echoing her a moment later, and doing a good job at wiping the mess off her own face and hands.

Sucasa pauses after this and looks at Wrema, turns back to her own wrap and starts eating again.

Wrema, meanwhile, takes a drink of meiloorun juice to clear her throat and swings her feet back and forth for a second.

"On the ships it's mostly protein packets and maybe instant bread? We have vitamin supplements, too. And water."

Everything here tastes much better. Especially the juice.

Hera stays quiet a moment at that. She makes herself eat a little more of her own wrap, so that the girls will have time to do the same.

And then, "You haven't been home in a long time?"

"Just the ships," Sucasa pipes up, licking at her fingers unabashedly. Wrema scowls and shoves another napkin at her. "Behave!"

Wrema turns back to Hera after that, biting her lip.

"We have a duty. We can go home when that's done. Or -- go somewhere, anyway."

Hera tilts her head, her lekku twitching slightly.

"If I can ask, what is your duty?"

Wrema takes a deep breath, unconsciously squaring her shoulders and sitting up ramrod straight. Sucasa mimics her at almost the same time. (She's still eating, though.)

"To assist the Chiss Defense Fleet and other Chiss ships in navigating the Unknown Regions."

There isn't anybody else.