Noventa - A Star Wars Story

Farkas had been up early and preparing for the day. He was busy in the small kitchen of the group's ship, cooking some basic hotcakes and brewing caf. Despite his seeming obsession with technology, the one thing he could not stand was an automatic caf maker. He preferred doing that himself and bought the beans whole roasted. Grinding them to what he considered the perfect consistency, using the high quality press, dipping into his supply of natural spring water he had for this specific purpose, and doing it all with the practiced hand of years spent enjoying fresh caf.

He set the press on the warmer after he poured his cup and sat down. Today was his day for meal prep, but everyone else could serve themselves. The plates and cups were already set out for the others to grab as needed. He moved to the table and took a sip of the hot drink, closing his eyes and appreciating the moment of calm before everyone else joined him.

Syzygy was not a morning person. Regardless of when morning was, it was a struggle for her to get up, especially if they were planetside. She blamed the gravity, but the pull of her warm comfortable bed was just too strong,

Farkas special brew of caf helped, though. At the least, it gave her a reason to leave her quarters.

"Morning." She managed a smile as she poured a cup.

Farkas looked up from his cup and nodded to the Zeltron. "Good morning. I hope you rested well. I was going to make the paralope sausages to go with the hotcakes but they were spoiled. Out of date by two weeks. So no protein with breakfast today. We've got frozen nuna though, so dinner should be good on that front."

He takes another sip of his caf, enjoying the aroma for a long moment.

"Mmm..." She sipped from her cup. "Maybe I should pick up some supplies, then. Any requests?"

"I mean, we're stocked for long term space travel with freeze dried foodstuffs and all that. I'd just rather have relatively fresh foods for planetside living," he replies. "And you know I'm not super picky about food. Long as it's not cantina food, right?" he says with a small grin. Officer cantinas might have been awesome... but everyone else got mass-produced lowest bidder souffle.

Speaking of souffles, "So long as there's fresh eggs and blue-milk, you can pick up whatever charms you, Anton," the raspy voice of their PR was even raspier in the morning before caf. Carmine emerged, dressed in hints of her old uniform- the crisp lines and harsh fabrics spoke of wealth and function.

Crisp, harsh, wealth, and function were also keywords to describe the scarred woman who helped herself to a cuppa.

"Good morning, all." she nodded in turn to the pair, her appraising gaze lingering on both a beat longer than necessary before finding a port window to glance to.

"There are eggs," Farkas replies. "We've got enough for another meal. But I was going to use them for tomorrow's breakfast. That's why I only made the hotcakes today. I cut some fruit up too for toppings," he says pointing out the bowl on the other side of the counter.

He takes another drink from his still hot cup, before finally setting it down and starting on the food. He was neat, precise, intentional and slow about eating. Nothing was wasted and no mess was made.

"Milk and eggs are already on my list." she nodded. "Doesn't hurt to have a bit more. I'll see if there's any fresh produce available, too. Cantina food depends on the cantina, though food isn't generally the main appeal."

And then, there waltzed a Sharn. He was no truly different that much from other Sharns to have been entering the morning fray. The level of self-absorption, arrogant gait and disregard for pleasantries were about standard. What was unusual, if not unheard of, would be the fact that he looked at them without addressing them. In the game-theoretical matrix of talk/no talk and look/no look it was usually the other way around, a condescending barb in the morning without sparing a glance many a time had sourly seasoned whatever cooking sweetness others had managed to foment. Something just might be afoot as it felt he was... computing them.

He sat, folded his arms on his chest, and leaned back, stretching out legs onto a small repulsor stool. Inside the Charm he didn't even care to wear something else than an Imperial scientist uniform.

Farkas had long ago gotten used to the Chiss scientist's condescension. It rolled off the older human like water over a stone, and he simply observed what the man was communicating. Farkas was no great diplomat or anything, but he and Sharn knew each other longer than anyone else on the ship and Farkas was one of the few humans that Sharn chose to continue to associate with. He knew that meant there was some modicum of respect for some aspect of the human's existence, allowing Sharn to co-exist with someone he considered inferior. And so he accepted the unspoken and unintended non-compliment for what it was.

Looking at the blue man, he measured his entrance and manner before speaking. He suspected that Sharn either wanted to gloat about something or push a course of action. And he wanted someone to say something so that he could flex his superior intellect. Farkas was used to the man doing so over him, and preferred it because it meant he didn't have to potentially defuse a disagreement between others. "What have you got Sharn?"

"I have got weary of demeaning myself and my talents via labouring as the spaceport handyman. I have long wondered how long I would weather it. The patience has worn thin to the breadth of a layer of graphene." Sharn mused without disclosing if it was what he had intended to say or decided to impart on a whim. "New challenges ought to be formulated."

"Such as?" Zygy asked. "Are we going somewhere else?"

"I figured you'd get weary of it sooner rather than later," Farkas agrees with a nod. It was one of the main differences between the two of them. The Chiss was always a far more ambitions man. "There are resources for the scavenging if you've got something you want to build. We can make that happen."

Carmine took in a deep breath through her nostrils and exhaled coldly, eyeing the pair and their dismissal before Sharn graced them with his presence.

She nodded to him and raised her mug slightly in acknowledgement, but her interest was piqued by his turn of behaviour.

"I, for one, am more than keen to scavenge the debris field; word is there's a fortune sitting up there."

"That sounds promising."

Sharn steepled fingers, leaning back with a smug smirk. "I have deigned to debate in my mind what way there is to align whatever aspirations and creative faculties you may have with my genius for the sake of increased personal fulfilment and for moving on from mere purposeless subsistence. We have resided on this backward world long enough for me to have mapped strategic opportunities intrinsic to our situation. We indeed ought to take full benefit of the orbital reservoir of salvageable hardware. But pray tell, scavengers, what is your orbital shopping list?"

"You know me. I like tinkering, so there's nothing specific on my list. I'd just play with whatever I found unless I needed to find something specific for a project. If you have a project mapped out then I'm all ears and ready to make it happen," Farkas replies, though when he says it he seems to be saying to everyone and not just Sharn.

"I just want to fly." Zygy shrugged. "I don't have the knowledge or ingenuity the rest of you do. The closest I have to being an engineer is this."

She held up a datachip. "I don't understand my mother's designs, but they are her art. I can appreciate them for that, at least."

"That's a lot of scavenging," Farkas says, referencing the ship design. "And a lot of heavy machinery to make happen. I know you want it, but we'll have to add some serious fabrication capabilities and a sizable workforce to see that through."

Taking a sip of caf, he looks to Sharn and Carmine. "But big goals are reached using small measured steps."

"Oh, I know." she nodded. "It's something that will take time. Probably a lot of time. I just hope I can help you with whatever we do."