An Explosive Trip

One of the perks of Vic's career was that she could run both illegal errands and official ones during a single trip. That made her life easier and also kept things entertaining to her crew of misfits. While the Tainarian system had a long history of Corsairs living this in-between life, she knew that they could get weird welcomes on certain planets when showing up as diplomatic envoys where they looked more like a bunch of scoundrels than proper ambassadors. Of course they all got a freaking kick out of shocking others, even though as the Captain and leader of her beloved crazy pack, she was the one who had to behave for the most part.

After getting into usual trouble close to Hutt territory, they were to make a pit stop on Jovan Station. While they were here on official business to get the lay of the land as it was an important hub for the Cizeri and the Alliance as joint forces, there was no specific agenda, which meant that the rest of the crew could work on getting some maintenance done and refuel their ship, before taking some time off. They were here for a couple of days, so that should give Vic enough time to scout the place and meet a few people.

Trusting her crew, she left them take care of the ship in the docking bay they had been allocated, heading off to explore the station.

She'd been put in charge of checking and rechecking all of Novgorod's torpedo heads, making sure the priming rods and reactive shielding were intact. It was all safety busy-work, but it was work she knew well. And normally she wouldn't even mind it. It was simple and mundane. Unfortunately the fates and the Force were both cruel overlords, and this particular task in her list of duties involved another body. Once upon a time it had been Regan. But ever since his transfer to another ship, she'd been stuck with possibly the absolute worst person aboard Novgorod.

Felcher.

He'd once made a thirty minute task last more than three hours, but thankfully Captain Quez had intervened and given the little weasel a time limit of one hour. It was still far longer than it'd once taken Sam and Regan, but it was much better than three hours.

Closing the casing on the last torpedo, Sam clicked the locker and rose to her feet with her shop rag in hand, wiping lithium grease residue from her fingertips.

An about face, and she ignored Felcher's nasally whining as she shouldered her way past him and out into a corridor. He was still droning on as the door closed.

She had a laundry list of supplies that she needed, and with her escort stipulation eased, that meant being able to leave the ship without some meathead in tow to make sure she'd actually come back. A quick stop at her quarters to grab a credit slip and her personal comm, and Sam was once more on her way. Her crew jacket was snatched from its hook as she breezed through the doorway, shrugged on without thought.

Through the airlock and out into the receiving area of Spire 5. Past the normal checkpoints and security personnel, and onwards to the lift that would take her to the station proper.

She already had her destination in mind, and Sam smiled in remembrance of the swap market that she and Regan had visited on one of their first times at Jovan.

It just wouldn't be the same without him, but she was determined to make her trip as fruitful as she could.

Vic was curious whether Jovan Station had a brothel or more. It was quite common and part of the culture of her home world; but she knew that sex work was quite frown upon in many places, even when many paid for such services. It was just normal for her and it had been part of her career, and one of the many reasons why she could be a most effective diplomatic envoy or devious bitch in the underworld. She was still planning to ask about whether there were brothels here, even if just to see some shocked expressions on others' face. For what she knew of the Cizeri though, it would make sense for them to have such establishments. She had never dealt with their people directly but what she had heard about them intrigued her.

She hummed an old tune to herself as she wandered towards what looked like a market area. She had passed a few eateries already but didn't feel that hungry. She wanted to take her time to explore and see where the day would take her. She loved trade places, especially when they involved unusual goods and artisans' works.

As she passed by a stand that offered staves, she thought about Suri, the teenager she had encountered on Rishi a few months ago and then brought to Ossus. She wondered how the girl was doing and how the Jedi life was treating her. While she had visited the enclave a few times, the whole Jedi thing still mystified her and she was happy not having to deal with that whole Force business.

It figured, that the first place she went to at the swap meet was where she got into her fist shouting match.

"No! no no no that's not what we agreed, you no-good piece of dewback shit. I give you fifteen credits, and you give me my fine-bit mass-drive torque caps."

The Dug merchant only sneered as he scoffed.

"Jo ka tura samusako, Sam. Eechi osa sukaro."

"No sir, that is not what what you offered me."

In a flurry of angry snarls and a snatch of her credits back into her own hand, Sam Porter gave the Dug a disgusted grimace.

"You run a dirty business, Kotann. Dirty."

"Anu pa luuga," was the only answer. It was one that she sneered at, and turning on her heel, Sam marched her way to another vendor, accidentally shouldering another passer-by as she went.

"Eh, sorry," the lanky blonde offered quickly before focusing her attentions on a table that held a smattering of offered goods.

The haggling part of this type of markets was one of its most entertaining features. She watched from afar a few exchanges but her attention got caught by a blonde harping with a Dug. That wasn't surprising as Dugs were assholes for the most part. The blonde was feisty and took no shit.

Vic must really have been staring because the other woman shouldered her by accident.

"You're fine. That Dug was the asshole."

She returned her attention to the display before them, not really impressed.

"I wasn't sure whether anyone would be at each other's throat on Jovan."

At least the second vendor she chose to grace with her presence was more amenable, giving a silent nod as she pointed to a display bin of neatly parceled wiring harnesses. They were small, meant for personal comm unit upgrades, but they were also perfect for bouncing banthas.

"Oh, Kotann? He likes to act tough up front," Sam sent a fleeting sidelong glance to the other woman who'd spoken, then once more back to the Bothan merchant as he gathered the harnesses and slipped them into a carrying bag.

"I'll loop back around to him at the end, and he'll let me have what I want for ten credits since no one else really buys them."

Money exchanged hands, and Sam nodded in thanks before turning to afford the woman a full look.

"Sometimes you just have to let the stubborn ones tire themselves out before you can get what you want."

Vic didn't really know what to think of the market so far. She had seen better and worse; and she knew not to judge a place too quickly.

She chuckled at the blonde's comment about letting the stubborn ones tire themselves out first.

"In the meantime you can just spend your own energy on more interesting and useful things, for sure."

She sunk her hands in the pockets of her black jacket, humming for a few moments.

"Do you have many like that around here? Just curious as it's my first time on Jovan."

A first timer.

Sam smiled sweetly as she rolled her shoulders, already sending her eyes in the direction of her next stop.

"There's lots that goes on around here," she started jovially.

"It's a sort of hodge-podge of everyone, to be honest."

The woman seemed in her element, and yet at the same time not exactly a Kolo Claw Fish in water, if that made any sense. It was enough to make the blonde smile genially as she gave a rough pat to the woman's shoulder.

"You get used to it though."

A Rodian ocat vendor caught her eye, and Sam veered to the side on an intercept course. There was a certain allure to Rodian ocats; the simplicity, the explosion of flavor... they were truly the perfect food. Not to mention there were so many different kinds.

Barsaco, Pergua, Sosatei, Tos'kai... she even saw a listing for Aresa. Not many folks got the pleasure of an Aresa ocat.

Finally she pulled her eyes away so that she could afford the other woman her full attentions.

"Name's Sam. Sam Porter. Currently stationed on Novgorod until, well, until time served."

Vic grinned at the blonde's remark about Jovan.

"That sounds like many space stations, although this one has quite the reputation and most people can't agree of what it should be."

Seedy, upscale, a mix of a specific kind, space stations she had visited had generally a fairly set type of gossip and tales attached to them; but Jovan had been difficult to categorize, which had been another reason why she had been selected to check it out.

"I bet you do, and if you don't go somewhere, there's only so much second-hand reports can reveal anyway."

She chuckled at the rough pat on her shoulder, appreciating the easy manner of this interaction.

The redhead had to inspect what caught the blonde's eye and she could imagine - or really hear - her stomach growl at the sight of it, especially at one.

"You have freaking Aersa ocats here and nobody mentions it? Damn."

She managed to think with her brain again as the other woman introduced herself.

"I'm Vic Starfallen, official and unofficial pain in the ass depending on who you ask. Time served, uh? The type when they just have you scrub floors or actually put your skills to good use?"

There was a moment of mild surprise that the other woman - Vic - knew about Aresa ocats. Then again, the folks worth knowing were the folks who didn't balk at the nasty bits.

Sam couldn't help but smile.

She'd seen something else on the menu that had caught her attentions more than the others, and couldn't help the hungry look that clouded her features for the briefest of moments.

How long had it been since she'd had Oba'ria? Too long. It had been too long.

But, Vic's question was enough to distract her momentarily, and Sam pulled up for enough time to offer the other woman a not-really-apologetic shrug.

"It's one of those 'getting-caught-with-unauthorized-explosives-so-they-give-you-a-choice-to-go-to-jail-or-work-for-them' sort of deals."

It was an infuriating position to be in, to be sure.

"Service rehabilitation, I think they call it. Or something like that."

Vic caught the hungry look on the blonde's face and she had to admit that the menu was very tempting. And she always liked sampling local goods, whether food or consenting beings. The thought had her flash a mischievous grin to Sam. A plan was forming in her brain and she liked it.

She clicked her tongue at what the other woman replied about her situation. "Sounds annoying as fuck; though the parts about explosives sounds entertaining."

She tilted her head towards the menu.

"What about I buy us food and I get a tour of what you like around the station? Call me a shameless and hungry tourist."

The redhead chuckled. "I'd bat my eyelashes for good measure but I generally can't pull even a sweet look to save my life."

Sam gave a smile, not entirely sure what to make of that last sentence, but she was game anyway to pal around with someone.

It was a sight better than the alternative. The alternative being Felcher.

Again she thanked her lucky stars that her escort restriction had been lifted. Maybe it was the perk of being the crotchspawn of an Alliance admiral. Who knew. Either way she was happy to indulge her new-found freedom.

Also, FREE MEAL.

Sam was nothing if not mercenary in most of her endeavors, and the offer of having her lunch paid for was readily accepted.

"I accept your offer to pay for our lunch," she rocked back on her heel, and in a strange show of honesty gave the other woman - Vic - a discerning look.

"Keep in mind though, I've only been here a handful of times. What I know of Jovan is fairly limited."

Vic didn't care about Sam's motivations for accepting her offer. She was happy to get to hang out with someone else who not only knew the station better than her; but knew how to barter with a stupid dug, and knew good food when she saw it.

And the blonde had a quirky kind of cute air about her, which didn't hurt.

"Let's start with the food, and then I guess we'll just walk it off?"

She chuckled, sauntering towards the Rodian who was taking orders. She gestured for Sam to go first.

"Limited but still greater than mine! I just left my crew at our docking bay and wandered off to the marketplace."

"Oh, Porter!"

A crisp, coreward accent rose above the din of the crowd from behind. It had the sound of the proverbial nexxu that caught the nuna.

"Sauntering off for a hot tiingilar, or some other greasy dive before hitting the usual debauchery?"

Arvel Calrissian Felcher minced ahead towards his coworker, leading with his pointed chin that telegraphed a tight-lipped smug grin as his over-polished boots clip-clacked against the deck.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice what you did?"

That voice. That horrid, whinging voice. She didn't even have to look back to know that Felcher and his fancy polished boots were headed this way. The tone of his words and the closing proximity of their volume was enough.

An apologetic look to Vic, and Sam made the conscious decision to ignore her horrible, no good, terrible crewmate. The man was nothing but a barnacle.

"Now," she pointedly addressed Vic with the sort of expression that said rather plainly to ignore the bastard.

"I really recommend trying the oba'ria. It's rich, but you're going to love it. I promise."

That voice made shrieking Hutt babies sound like the next opera sweethearts. To say this man looked like the perfect mix of repressed and full-of-shit would be paying him a compliment. Vic stared at him for a moment before returning her attention to Sam, whose cue to ignore the intruder was promptly accepted.

"I'll go for the oba'ria then! Half if not more on the menu looks delicious."

With both their orders placed, she paid with a generous tip, and then hoped they could retrieve the food quick enough so the pesky shit wouldn't get in the way of their food and time together.

Nobody wanted to stay between her and food in the first place; and men annoying women was also something that meant easy trouble if the redhead unleashed her wrath on such pathetic beings.