First Contact

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

James smiled and patted the dashboard fondly, he frowned concerned for a moment. He ran a systems check to make sure his manual override hadn’t done any damage to any of the systems. It shouldn’t have that was the way it was designed but sometimes a hink accured that meant a reboot lest it stall next time he tried it.

“It’s more of a home than a sword.” James pondered thoughtfully “Though I suppose it’s just as important to my honour and my trade as a sword would be for a warrior. I never thought of a sword being a home before.”

“Makes sense. Jedi seem to value their laser swords like a home. Most honour bound warriors have some sort of attachment to a specific item they depend on for their survival. Jedi and their lightsabers. Mandalorians and their armor.”

“Anthropologically there's probably some academic explanation of a society evolving to depend on said specific items for survival and therefore grown an emotional attachment. I like the idea of it’s because they need a home better though. It’s more poetic.”

“I suppose my blasters are familiar and specific to me as well.” James acknowledged drawing and twirling his blasters. “They have three settings standard, rapid fire and power shot. Pretty good at long range as well though for that I usually use my rifle. Only problem would be I’d need to know well in advance I’d need it. Enemy’s aren’t always accommodating with forewarning and even if they were I wouldn’t be. Although some fools like the whole drawing duel at fifteen paces. I usually accommodate them.”

James grunted at some of those fools. Some of them were two bit gangsters most were fool hardy kids dreaming of things found in holocomics. Like that stupid kid back in the bar. For some reason James couldn’t shake him. Maybe he should have what do you call it deescalated the situation? He’d done that a time or two when someone had the drop on him rather than the other way around. James shook his head. The stupid kid had made his decision and was probably already headed down a dark path. James just ended it earlier then he had been expecting.

James focused on Tzar’s for a moment.

“Oh huh? A Mynock? Oh just a joke they’re annoying little parasites that leech of ships. Bloody annoying frackers when you’re travelling through an asteroid field.”

James felt a little guilty at Tzar’s sincerity about James comparing himself to a Mynock. James started to pay attention more closely as Tzar described his past and people. He felt a little touched that Tzar decided to honour him by sharing. James didn’t know the Kounjan or really any Kounjan at all let alone well but even he could see that honour meant a great deal to the race and culture. Perhaps even to Tzar in particular.

There were some warrior races like that like the Noghri. Most of them got swallowed by the galaxy and spat out again their culture and their ways eroded by the greed and mass populations of the various powers and factions of the galaxy. A rare few like the Mandalorians seemed to adapt. James wasn’t sure Tzar could adapt so easily but he was sure he could persevere and survive perhaps even thrive.

James had sympathy for Tzar’s description of a fallen race to internal disputes. It was a common enough story. Privately he also thought he wouldn’t like to live on a world or race such as he described. After all here he was having a chat with a cannibalistic executioner bent on galactic domination. James gave a mental shrug. Not his business until it became his business.

Right now Tzar was a client what he did before and after the job he’d hired James to do was none of his business. Until it became his business, and even then he better be paid bloody well to take on someone like Tzar. Besides despite his bloodlust James liked the strange creature. He also wondered if being forged in darkness was a metaphor or literally through the dark side of the force.

James didn’t believe in most of Jedi and Sith philosophy or atleast didn’t live by it, but he’d be a fool to deny it’s power.

“I hope you find the” James paused for a second he was about to say peace, but given his warlike nature James didn’t think that would be appreciated “the heart.”

“Thank you for sharing with me. I am honoured to hear it.”

James frowned and hesitated as he pondered what to say next. He couldn’t just turn back to flying not after Tzar opened up like that. He wanted the conversation to continue he just wasn't sure how without coming off... dishonest? Which was rare for James he usually liked a good spin and con. For some reason though Tzar's fierce integrity measured a more honest response.

“The only real home I’ve ever had is this ship and maybe my uncles ranch, but I’ve never belonged to… a culture like that. There have been attempts I guess. The miners had their own community. The ranchers there’s. The military it’s own. I’ve always been a personage of the galaxy belonging to all but none at the same time. Despite what happened to your people your lucky to have had that for however short a time.”

@Tzar Arakx

 

[Tzar Arakx]

Tzar had spoken to this outsider more than he had to anyone else in a long time. A part of him felt warm, welcome, safe, but deep down, he had a quest. A mission of revenge and retribution. He tapped his chest twice, claws rasping against the boneplate, a silent vow of the old ways. Duty till death. The words he repeated to himself in moments like this.

He was a frozen warrior bound by blood and oath to the Kuonjan race. This was his reality. This was his peace. Yet parts of him were thawing to the new reality he found himself in.

Of course, he heard it, deep down. The orders. The screams. The path. His duty. But so far from Esthoriel, the blizzard seemed to have an end in sight. He was further from home than any Kuonjan had travelled. There were none to report to. None to correct his mistakes. Only himself and his thoughts, swarming like uncontrollable hail inside his skull.

Jedi, Mandalorians, Mynock's. So many new things to process at once for this Kuonjan warrior, maybe too many things. He felt like a fool with his lack of knowledge of this new universe. This existence was not made for him, not this galaxy, not this time.

This overwhelming pressure he felt, a numbing frost that blanketed his mind for just a moment. But a moment was enough for the winter to escape into the ship. The air started to turn bitter, a cutting, icy cold that could not be swept away with fur or fire. It was subtle for now, but with time it would grow. “We thank you, James'' the insectoids chitteres were heavy with melanchony as the words escaped his maw.

The Kuonjan looked outside into the vast, endless space beyond the ship ''Many turn from truth when they hear it, yes. You did not. That… is good. You say you have no tribe. We do not pity. You lived. You bled. Alone. And still standing. That is strength, yes.'' He turned slowly, eyeing the ship’s interior. ''We see your ship now. Not just machine. Not tool. It is clan. Hull is your bones. Engine, your heart. We understand this, yes.

Tzar looked at him again, this man with no oath, no chitin, no rites. “You thrive, yes”, he said quietly. “Even when pain is present. You hide under words, yes. Trick we have not learned. Not taught. Not allowed, yes.” His mandibles clicked softly. “Strange. But not weak. We think… perhaps, this is a kind of armour, yes” The warrior leaned back, his gaze unreadable. “We do not forget ones who listen, yes.''

The warrior pulled with slow reverence the old, rusted star chart out of the folds of his robe. He unwrapped it with careful fingers, as though disturbing old bones. Then placed it down before the mercenary. ''Read the map, find the thieves, yes'' His mandibles clicked again, slower this time. There was much he had to learn in this strange, flickering galaxy. Technology. Custom. The way of now. In time, he would adapt. But for now, he had James.

@James 'Slinger' Antilles

 

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

James grunted in satisfaction at Tzar’s generous praise. It was a tad more poetical than James usually heard from his clients or passengers, but it had a certain lyricism that James enjoyed. A sincerity that he rarely heard. James wondered at the soul of a poet of someone who maintained they lost their heart. James still had his doubts as to the veracity of that claim, he wasn’t quite sure save perhaps from droids that any being any organic being at least could maintain life absent there heart, and yet in a way that just made their mission more important.

If there was an object that was so dear to a person that they could claim it to be their heart then it was important that it be returned to them. James internally grunted in satisfaction at the thought. It had been bugging him a little that he was in the company of and indeed helping a cannibal who ate people to survive. James was beginning to doubt that the little fuzzy creatures would be enough to sustain him and was mainly hoping he himself would not wind up on the menu.

Despite his murderous quirks however James liked Tzar. A Jedi would perhaps agonize over the conflicting nature of that, but James lived a more flexible lifestyle. Tzar wasn’t the first murderous client James had had nor would he be the last, but at least he was an honest one, and an honourable one if James was any judge of character. Most times when dealing with a murderous client James had half a mind on killing them first before he was killed. If it came to that however James would be genuinely saddened by Tzars death. Assuming he could kill him in the first place. James didn’t want to test the theory if he could avoid it.

“Aye I like that a ship is a heart, a beating one. You want to know what the first rule of flying is? Love. You can learn all the math in the 'verse, but you take a boat in the air you don't love, she'll shake you off just as sure as the turning of worlds. Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down, tells you she's hurting 'fore she keens. Makes her a home.”

James nodded with a contented sigh.

Nodding briskly while Tzar took out the rather ancient looking star chart. James frowned wondering what he was supposed to be doing with something so ancient other than perhaps sell it to a collector or a museum. Then again at least they had a lead.

James looked at the star chart and frowned chewing his lip.

“Lemme see if I can’t upload that to a more modern star chart.” James punched in some numbers and got a scanner out. “I use this to scan forgeries and duplicate them but it should work for your star chart, get it uploaded into the ships system.”

James set the scanner to work. James hummed to himself while the scanner got to work It took a few minutes but it eventually uploaded to the ships nav computer. The coordinates came up on screen.

“Korriban!” James groaned “You never mentioned the thieves were Sith!”

@Tzar Arakx

 

[Tzar Arakx]

Tzar did not answer immediately. The name hung in the air, Korriban, unfamiliar, but not without shape. He tilted his head slightly, a faint creak in the worn joints of his carapace. His mandibles clicked once, a dry mechanical sound. Not curiosity. Not alarm. A kind of recognition, quiet and functional. The Sith. That name, at least, was known. He had fought beside them once. Not for loyalty, but for necessity. Their cause had aligned with his own for a time, blood for blood, war for war. There had been order in that violence, and deception behind it. On that same battlefield, his kin tasted their blood, and it was foul with treachery and lies.

Tzar stepped closer to the chart, his gaze steady. The glow of the navscreen washed pale light across the jagged ridges of his exoskeleton, drawing no expression. He studied the coordinates. He understood none of their context, but he understood place. A world with weight. A world meant to be feared. That would be enough. “Korriban is new to us. Remember James names have no power. Together we walk its dust the same, yes.”

He let his gaze fall on James. Not judgmental, not questioning, simply present, like a blade not yet drawn. ''We warred beside the Sith, in days gone, when alliances were fleeting and truths were sharpened into weapons. we bled beside them. And bled them. We recall the taste of their arrogance. Steel-cloaked, fire-tongued. Admirable in the way of blades that refuse to bend.” His chest swelled slightly with the faintest hum, a low, bone-vibrating resonance that might have been the Kuonjan equivalent of a sigh. Or perhaps a prayer. It was impossible to tell.

He paused. Then gave the smallest, slowest nod, a gesture sharpened not by emotion, but by intent. He turned slightly to face the pilot’s chair. “You know the vessel. You know the void. Get us there unseen. Let the galaxy slumber in its ignorance while we drift into its marrow, yes.”

“You are not Kuonjan, not Kin, but we will share the honour of battle. That is enough, yes.” He stepped back again, folding his arms behind his back in a stance both monastic and militaristic. The stillness that followed was unnatural, like a mausoleum that had learned to breathe. The ship hummed. The stars whispered.

@James 'Slinger' Antilles