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Thread: Familiar Taste of Poison - Respite

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    Grace Van-Derveld's Avatar
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    Closed Familiar Taste of Poison - Respite

    *takes place after FToP - Not My Type

    Mos Espa

    A speeder casually navigated an ornery dewback that swayed its neck side to side, trying to fling the bossy Jawa off its leash. Others jutted their small arms in the air nervously, shouting at the endangered Jawa and the dewback to knock it off - which neither complied.

    "Watch him fly off," chuckled the speeder's driver as she steered the vehicle properly along the sandy ground.

    Sure enough there was a loud high pitched screeched as the Jawa lost its grip and landed in a pile of Bantha poodoo that the city sweepers were shoveling into a cart.

    Grace barked with laughter at the annoying pests misfortune. She always believed Jawas were unnecessarily rough and cruel to Droids and beasts of burden, only finding pleasure in successful monetary transactions and scavenging finds. They didn't look past their profits and addiction to technology, but they were useful in the same vain. If you knew how to properly haggle, some hard to find parts might be cheaper through them instead of the shops that were exhausting with constant bargaining.

    So why was she and Lorna on a far reaching planet in the Outer Rim filled with scum, villainy, and beings that were wanting to take advantage of you?

    Simple. They were here for food at one of the best little dives in the galaxy nestled around heat, humidity, poor farmers, pod racers, and rich gangsters. The last op was intense for various reasons and Grace had the sense that Lorna needed downtime. Going undercover was new for her and as she believed that the doctor was fine with separating their intimate counterparts that they played, the ensuing firefight and physical combat was outside Lorna's expertise. Though she wouldn't admit, Grace was positive that the doctor had a nightmare that night after the operation was complete. They had shared a room for obvious reasons and kept it for the night before shipping out the next day. She hadn't the heart to wake Lorna but all of the tossing and turning and soft whimpers was an old friend to the Director of Alliance Intelligence. Lorna needed some R & R.

    She parked at a free spot that was a quick walk to The Blue Bantha. The building was your typical rectangular structure with a dome for a roof and strong, thick, weathered sides to withstand all the sandstorms that tore through here, with dug out steps that led inside. A metal sign hung over the door with barely a sway, depicting a bantha in mid-rise, one leg up in the air, and its jaw hanging low.

    "Here we are." Grace hadn't told Lorna where they were going. Only that they were going to Tatooine for something to eat - which surprised Lorna, though she was happy to accept. What wasn't a surprise was her reaction because ... it was Tatooine.

    "And trust me, this'll be worth it," she promised as she got out of the speeder.

    She wore light colors like the natives to avoid excessive heat. The stone colored fabric was thin and breathable that covered the length of her arms, folding loosely at the wrists. Crisscrossed brown belts held up light grey pants and holstered a blaster, and for good measure there was a hold out blaster tucked safely in one of her brown boots. A thin sheen of perspiration coated exposed skin, especially along her neck since her hair was held up in a bun.

    As they walked along the narrow footpath, Grace momentarily chewed on her lower lip before sighing. "Now ... I'll be honest."

    She spared a glance at her companion. "Ubenkabo is either going to hug me or shoot me when we walk in so ... make sure to stand behind me."
    Last edited by Grace Van-Derveld; Jul 11th, 2020 at 07:30:29 PM.

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