boxofmisfits | Lysatran Summers are Better

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Lysatran Summers are Better

Toeing the space between outright rebellion and not being caught as a thorn in the Empire's side was a thin line to walk. Never mind that the Vantos were not very well-known outside of small circles, even within Wild Space.

Eli's decision was not made lightly. Having only had a brief stint in Myomar's academy, it wasn't hard to perceive the corruption between the seams, not to mention the xenophobia that was so heavily prevalent around the Core worlds. It grated on him, the prevalence of such views and expressions. He knew he'd never find himself comfortable there. He stayed only as long as necessary for flight training before formally withdrawing to another academy to finish up the basics and get to work properly.

Resuming work of delivering supplies was a step up, but not entirely his own end goal. No. A carefully attuned listening ear and some observations, and the current supplies were headed for a rebel outpost just outside of the Empire's reach. His outward persona changed to fit the circumstances. He couldn't simply be Eli Vanto. And he couldn't allow his name to involve his family in such dangerous matters. "Horatio Figg" was the demeanor he'd named for such work. Pretending to be someone else made it easier to separate himself from whatever needed to be done, should the going get too rough that words alone bore no fruit.

Bandits, however, picked on the weak, or plain folks who just rubbed them wrong. The cluster of planets had an inviting look to him. Were this any other moment than a dogfight he was losing, engine and controls dead and other operations and lights quickly failing, he doubtless would have taken the time to admire the view of the wayward planet he was propelled to.

It was all too happy to drag his failing ship into its orbit.

At such a velocity, repeated impacts resounding against the front, and then repeatedly against the undercarriage, his body kept jarring in such a way that he worried he'd faint from the repeatedly intense sensations of vertigo, his head first barely pillowed by his arms against the console, arms and legs braced to protect the rest of his body from the impacts.

What felt like an eternity later, the ship slowed to a halt, and for a moment, he wondered if what he felt was even real. Was he even still alive, or was he dead and gone, brained upon the console, from the initial impact with the planet's surface?

Unstrapping himself from the barely-intact seat, Eli shakily stood up, hands pressed flat to the dead controls beneath him. His limbs felt both light and heavy, and he could see some distinct trembling in his fingers, and some weakness in his legs.

The adrenaline drop, probably. He was banged up, but nothing felt sprained nor broken, thank the stars.

After ascertaining that his ship would not blow up on him if he breathed funny, only then did he let himself marginally relax. Still, bandits were not the type to let even crash remains go untouched. Even if not now, it was only a matter of time before they followed.

Armed with only a single blaster at his hip, Eli took the time to check himself more thoroughly for any injuries as the adrenaline continued to wear off, leaving him feeling increasingly like a boiled noodle. Able to peer skyward through the broken transparasteel panel, he could see the small shapes of the ships just barely within the planet's atmosphere, but close to the barrier between the planet and space itself. Until in a wink, they were away.

Why weren't they coming now? What had made this situation so unsavory to try to profit from?

But that was a thought for future Eli, as he started to register the pain in his extremities - mostly bruises. He wasn't dead, then. That was good.

Heading towards the main door, Eli attempted to activate it, only for the interface to not respond. Some brute force, however, was sufficient after a period of struggle.

Maybe it wasn't smart to open the ship this quickly, and he looked skyward to check the pirates' location again, as if maybe them leaving was a trick of the light.

It wasn't.

Backing away again and sliding the door mostly shut, Eli took the time to poke and prod at the ship's interior parts. with a tool at hand, it seemed that the engine was completely shot - nothing short of replacing it would fix a damned thing for it.

Other components could theoretically be powered by other sources, if he could figure out the wiring.

Clicking his tongue, he leaned up against the wall with a sigh, mentally going over the inventory he had. If he was careful to only eat his fill and no more, he could have enough food to last him two standard weeks. Water, even less. He'd need to find a fresh source. And the food supply was limited, so if he could supplement his supplies with anything from this planet, that would be good.

There was no telling when, or if, help would arrive. Bracing himself, he resolved to act as if no help was coming.

Pulling open an emergency hatch, he retrieved a heat lamp, as well as one purely for light, and what spare blankets he could find. It would be best if he could use this as shelter as long as possible, and maximize what he can do with what he has.

Based on the breeze coming in, carrying with it warm air, the season is either an approximate mid-spring or early summer. Eli wondered if this overlooked planet had any sentient life on it.

And if so, who? And would they make his life easier or harder?

Still trembling a little, Eli rocked back to his feet, deciding to at least get out and about a little and shake off the unnerved feelings clinging to him regarding his miraculously-evaded brush with death.

Using that time to find a water source would be a good expense of his time.

With a sigh, Eli shoved the door back open again and looked around, squinting at the midday sun. It was warm out, but not unpleasantly so. Felt not too different from Lysatra's spring, honestly.

Good. Probably.

Pulling a short knife from his boot, Eli looked around to check his surroundings. Enough trees to mark his way by, at least, so he wouldn't get lost if he was careful. In the back of his mind, Eli counted his steps as he began to search, wanting to know the exact distance between his broken ship and any places of note.

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This world wouldn't have been his first choice to settle on for his false exile, but it served its purpose. It was out of the way, just on the border of the Unknown Region, but not so far out that there was no chance of being found by someone. His mission required being found, after all. Even if that look a long time, he was a patient man. Plus, this world had resources, including water, local edible plants and animals, and the means to build a shelter. His CDF training had included survival skills, in case warriors were ever stranded on alien worlds.

When the ship flew in low, Thrawn couldn't help but be curious. Others had visited his world before, but he'd always scared them off. Except, this ship was coming in for a crash landing. Looking back up at the sky, Thrawn deduced what had likely happened. Pirates had chased that ship and shot it down, only to flee because they no doubt heard the rumors of what was down here.

Now the question was whether the pilot of that ship had survived and whether they were friend or foe.

Strapping his knife to his belt, Thrawn ventured out into the woods to investigate.

Eli wasn't the quietest adventurer. The swaths of greenery brushing against his legs with his movements were a loud giveaway. And with adrenaline still tapering off in his system, he was left to move a little more slowly than he'd like, even though his body wished to rest.

Still, he'd sleep more soundly if he knew where water was. hearing perked as much as possible over the sounds of his own movements, and, at times, over the grind of his knife against a tree to mark his path, he had yet to hear anything or anyone other than himself.

He did, however, feel like he stuck out like a sore thumb. His tunic and trousers were far from any sort of shade of green to even be remotely close to camouflage. Hell, they weren't green at all. Well, maybe in time the white of his tunic would pick up enough grass stands to be-- nah, not a chance.

Every so often, the need to rest prompted him to stop, and he used that time to look around and listen. Ugh, if he could avoid any drastic life-and-death situations where he could do nothing but wait and pray, he'd be a very happy man.

Thrawn had since learned how to move with stealth through the woods, though his skin still made it hard for him to blend in unless he stuck to the shadows, and even then he had to hide his eyes. The other person, not so much. Thrawn could hear them trudging through the woods, snapping twigs.

The question now was whether he approach with stealth or not. The pilot could have a blaster and react to Thrawn's sudden appearance by shooting him.

The pilot wasn't far now, and Thrawn got an idea. Taking a left turn, he went towards the nearby lake. Picking up a rock, he tossed it in, making a loud splashing sound, before going to wait in the nearby bushes. His hope was that the pilot wouldn't be able to resist finding a water source and come investigate, thus allow Thrawn to assess them before revealing himself.

Edited 2020-12-22 16:10 (UTC)

Immediately, Eli's instinct was to brandish the knife when he heard the sound, body tense and eyes wide and scanning the surroundings. When no other sound was forthcoming, he rested a hand on his blaster as he approached where he heard the sound of something entering the water.

Creeping closer, Eli frowned to see the water. While grateful that a supposedly pure water source was nearby, what about the sound he heard?

Scanning the area, he can't see anything amiss, as far as he can tell.

He takes his time trying to perceive any threats before coming out to inspect the water properly. Deep.. and clear, from the looks of it. Cupping some in his hands, he brings it to his face to sniff.

Doesn't smell off.

So... what made that sound?

"If this is how 'mgonna die, gonna be very upset," he grumbles under his breath.

He sweeps the area a little longer, knife tucked back into his boot and hand on his blaster. There are a few smaller critters about, but he's not so sure they'd make that kind of noise he heard.

"...Weird."

Thrawn waits in the shadows, and takes interest when he finally sees the one who flew the downed craft. He's a human, likely male. Thrawn doesn't recognize the style of clothing, though he can surmise that the man isn't from the Empire. Either he's a pirate or a smuggler, possibly even a civilian. He doesn't recognize the language the man uses.

He's also an observant fellow, and a cautious one. Thrawn can respect that. Thrawn waits for the sound of others, like a pirate band, but it seems that the man is alone.

Intentionally making a rustling noise, Thrawn emerges from the bushes, tall and proud, glowing eyes fixed firmly on the newcomer.

Eli's onto that noise in a hot second, hand still on his blaster, but not drawing it.

He doesn't expect to see an entity of legend staring right at him. Rich blue skin, deep, long blue-black hair -- glowing red eyes. His eyes widen in surprise, with a flicker of recognition.

Tales told of the Chiss are unflattering at best - ones to threaten children to behave at night. The monsters under the bed.

They're real.

Eli can tell that the Chiss before him is no wild, grotesque beast. And, seeing the weapon on the person, not drawn, Eli lowers his hand from his blaster in kind. Brown eyes scan the other's features carefully.

"...Did you throw something into the water?" he asks in basic, carefully curbing back his accent in the hopes that the otherwise drawling notes to his words don't complicate the other's understanding.

Otherwise... well. He has an option for that, too. But for now, if the other person grasps basic, that would be good.

If not, he repeats his question in Sy Bisti, and hopes for some amount of recognition.

Edited 2020-12-23 04:03 (UTC)

Thrawn doesn't react when the human asks him something in that language he was speaking before. He knows a little Basic, but he's not fluent. He also examines the human's face, noting the way his eyes widen. Surprise, perhaps.

When the human switches to Sy Bisti, Thrawn nods and replies in that language. "Indeed I did. I wanted to draw you to this location, and determine if it was safe to approach you. I saw your ship when it came in for a crash landing."

The way Sy Bisti flows off of the stranger's lips is very gripping. Thank the stars for a mutual language. Eli visibly relaxes more, nodding.

"I'd be surprised if you hadn't, given the proximity. Still, might want to be careful. Pirates shot me down, and I'm not sure why they haven't come to finish the job."

He frowns a little, shaking his head. Still, he relaxes a little more, willing to trust that this is a conversation that won't go awry.

"In any case, I'm glad we can converse. It's easier than trying to pantomime things and hope for understanding."

"Yes, I figured as much. Pirates have visited this world before, forcing me to frighten them away." Thrawn is quite good at manipulation and made it look as if this planet is inhabited by many hostile locals who are quite territorial. "I do not suspect they will risk coming here just to finish you off." Clearly the man wasn't carrying anything very valuable, otherwise the pirates might have taken the risk.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mitth'raw'nuruodo, but you may use my core name, Thrawn." In his experience, non-Chiss tended to stumble over Chiss names.

Trickery-- not too far off from the legends about the Chiss, but it's equally as possible that it's just the unique thought process of this person - Thrawn - as an individual.

"I see. I think I'd butcher your name, so I'll just... opt for Thrawn. For now."

He frowns a little. It's only polite to offer his name in return. And given the xenophobia of the Empire, it's pretty safe to say that Thrawn isn't part of it.

"...I'm Eli Vanto. Just 'Eli' is fine."

A beat.

"Pardon me, but you're a Chiss, aren't you?" he can't help but ask, still watching Thrawn carefully in turn. His accent, furthermore, slips out a little more into the words.

"A pleasure to meet you, Eli." Well, Eli seems friendly enough, and hasn't pulled a weapon on him. From what he can tell, Eli can be a valuable ally. And perhaps someone to ease Thrawn's loneliness. Even if he's a solitary creature, he still misses having company.

A slight smile crosses his face then. "I am Chiss, yes. I take it that your planet was one of the ones my people used to trade with?"

However slight, Eli notices it. But maybe he's attributing more worth to the very minor shift in expression than is warranted?

"Most likely. Even though tales have been doubtlessly warped over time. They don't paint the Chiss in a flattering light. But even when I was young, I couldn't help but question the stories I was told. Much to my folks' irritation.

"So while I'm still surprised to see that Chiss are, in fact, real, I never thought I'd meet someone of that species. Mm, not that I'm going to just pick your brain day and night. That'd be a bit rude."

Looking back to the water for a moment, Eli's posture loses the last traces of any particular nervousness.

"How did you come to be here, might I ask?"

"I am not surprised, for most Chiss prefer to keep to ourselves, and it is only natural that things would become lost or distorted through time and retellings." Though Eli doesn't seem xenophobic towards him, at least. Rather, Eli seems curious about him, just as Thrawn is curious about Eli.

The smile fades, and Thrawn's expression becomes more neutral. "I had a disagreement with the leaders of my people, and was exiled."

The shift from warmth to not is more noticable than he expected. In turn, his good mood drops to hear the answer.

"Oh... I'm sorry. Um, I won't pry. 'Specially if it's a sensitive topic for you. We can talk about something else, if you want."

Eli's posture stiffens up a little again, and he watches Thrawn with open concern.

Edited 2020-12-23 06:05 (UTC)

If only he could tell Eli the truth. But the fewer people who know about it, the better, and it's safer for Eli in the long run if he keeps believing the cover story. After all, it's likely that once one or both of them are rescued, they'll go their separate ways and never see each other again.

"Quite alright, Eli." He says it like he has no regrets. "Would you like to see where I have set up camp?"

Eli's relief that he hasn't caused trouble is palpable, and he nods in acknowledgement.

"Ah, your camp? Are you sure? I'm curious, but I don't want to impose or anythin'. Considering we just met."

"It is no trouble. We are going to be sharing this world for quite some time and it is only fair that you know where I am situated, in case you need to find me." It makes practical sense, of course.

Waving a couple of fingers to motion Eli to follow, Thrawn goes back into the woods. His camp isn't far from here, since he made sure he was near water when he set it up.

"Why did those pirates shoot you down?"

Eli follows, at first behind, and then settling beside him.

"Ah, it's a cargo vessel. Probably thought I had something worth taking. Or if nothing else, stress release from firing on a ship that can't really fight back well. Way I see it, they'll come back at some point. Either for the cargo - or to make sure they killed me. Possibly both."

No matter how much he thought he's a small enough fish that he'd be overlooked, he clearly wasn't.

"So if they come back like I think they will, might be best for you to hide until they leave. Wouldn't want ya to get involved, you know?"

It's his mess, anyway. Well, started by pirates, but there's no reason for Thrawn to get involved when it's life or death.

"Your concern is appreciated, but you need not worry about my safety. I am a warrior." He's confident that if pirates come along, he and Eli can both take care of them.

"You are a courier then? Or perhaps a smuggler?"

Eli carrying cargo of some kind certainly implies that he's one of those two professions. That last question isn't accusatory, but merely a simple question.

Edited 2020-12-24 07:59 (UTC)

It isn't just that, Eli thinks. Thrawn has to have the skills to back up the rather fearsome reputation he suggests he has. Chiss - at least in part - being warriors strikes some sense of familiarity with the tales he remembers being told about them.

But can he fully trust this stranger, Chiss or not? That, Eli isn't certain of.

Fortunately, he's used to having to toe this line between fib and truth. And being a courier isn't wrong, either. Courier to one, smuggler to another.

He doesn't miss a beat, body language still calm so as to not give away the omission.

"Courier, yeah. Family's been in this trade for a few generations now, myself included. At least this shipment I have has mostly preserved food and easy rations, and depending on how long we're stuck here, might as well not waste it."

Not that he thinks they'll lack for food, but still...

Eli continues to follow, attention focused on not just memorizing the way, but also listening for any sounds or signs of threats. That includes keeping a good eye on Thrawn's body language. Hopefully his gestures aren't too dissimilar from humans' in intent and meaning.

His gesture to follow, with two fingers in particular, is also of note. Should he use a similar gesture with a different rhythm of the wrist or finger count, he'll notice. He also keeps an eye out for any changes in Thrawn's gait, though honestly, he already notices that the Chiss has far more grace navigating this place than himself.

No wonder Thrawn knew where to throw a rock.

The look of him further, from behind, is, well. Chiss hair is far prettier to see than the tales could ever convey. (And if his gaze happens to skim over anywhere else, it's just in the habit from watching body language.) It compliments the flower-like blue hue of his skin.... (Nope, nope, going to shove that thought into the closet with the rest of his original thoughts about the appeal of the Chiss, and throw away the keycard.)

Thrawn suspects that's only a half-truth, but he doesn't pry. It's not like he isn't doing the same thing, telling Eli only half-truths about his exile. "Those rations will be good to have if we happen to be unable to catch or forage for food. Or simply as backup meals."

He soon emerges into a clearing, where he's made his camp. There's a hut with a pair of generators hugging it, a stone campfire, and various boxes. It's made to look like he's been here for years.

"You are welcome here whenever you wish, Eli."

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Lysatran Summers are Better

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/dusts this account off

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