nexus_sages | Anxious Smuggler's Arrival ...

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Anxious Smuggler's Arrival ...

Han awakes with a start when the Millennium Falcon makes the familiar groans that the old YT-1300 tends to make when it drops out of light speed. As if the metal and the collective components that made up his beloved ship could somehow be catching it's breath.

Rubbing the sleep out of the eyes, the pilot peers at the planet-scape before him. He can't put his finger on it, but right away, this place doesn't feel like anywhere Han had ever been before. It looks unassuming enough, but it definitely doesn't resemble Kashyyyk, which is where he was supposed to be headed.

Before he can even begin to look down at the navigation panel and confirm that he didn't make an error calculating his jump, he hears a low pitch chime. A chime that tells him that this place that he's in, wherever it is, is uncharted in the Falcon's navi-computer. Which is slightly unsettling because if there's one thing he doesn't sacrifice on this ship, it's the navigation. He updates his system frequently and honestly, prides himself on the detail and complexities of his maps.

Followed slightly after the 'uncharted space' ding comes another chime that he's not happy to hear. It's the one that indicates 'low fuel'. This time Han is the one groaning as sets his communications instruments to scan for open signals. He's gonna have to land here. And he doesn't know a thing about this place.

It should be a matter of seconds before they find a channel or the planet's own airspace comm hails him. A good thirty seconds pass and nothing. Then a full minute.

His lip reflexively starts to curl into a frown. 'Is this place uninhabited?' He wonders. Han's not sure that he has enough fuel to jump somewhere else because he has no idea where he actually is, but that would be his preference right about now.

Shit.

As the Falcon starts to drift closer to the planet, he can see terrain and water. It looks like a planet that can sustain life. That's something good, at least, but his empty stomach starts to churn with worry all the same. He wishes Chewie was here. Not that the wookie could do anything to make the situation any better, but, at least he wouldn't be ... you know, alone.

As the ship lowers into the planet's gravity, the pilot looks on desperately for civilization at least. Having to land on a planet and then needing to discover and refine your own fuel, by yourself, would be a nightmare. When he starts to see buildings and something of a city, he breathes a sigh of moderate relief.

He gets the ship on terra, a mile or two away from the outskirts of this place. With no means to hide his ship, he has to trust that it will be relatively safe here for the time being.

He grabs a breathing mask, fits it to his face, and with blaster in hand, leaves the Falcon behind.

He starts into town toward the forum, the centralized area and hopefully a marketplace, where he sees other figures lurking about.

((Hi everyone. New here. Have a Star Wars muse? He's been lurking at some dressing rooms, but we're looking for a regular place to play. Anyone's welcome to tag him.))

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((Before I tag in: Ver's cursed and it kinda sucks sometimes so if you don't want to deal with it I will understand. Just let me know either way.))

((Looks fine to me. He will, more than likely, want to lie about something. Just to be clear, she can tell that he's lying, but she doesn't read his mind or *know* what the truth actually is, right?))

((Exactly. She can sometimes infer or guess, but she doesn't know for certain. He's certainly free to tell lies around her, but it'll be pretty obvious she knows.))

Even in the snow, the Falcon is big and obvious. And vaguely familiar looking. There was a movie she's trying to forget...

And then there's someone coming out. Another newcomer, she suspects. When he's within a reasonable distance she raises a hand in greeting. Yes, hello, you've been noticed, strange man in a mask. "Hey. You okay?"

~~Strange man? Strange man! He resembles that remark. Though would certainly grump at you if he knew that's what you were thinking.~~

A hand raised and waving. Okay. That's a good sign. She seems to be speaking basic, too.

Han lowers his blaster, but again, it's not put away. It's always the minute you put your weapon away that you wish you hadn't. That (somewhat) tracks with Han's experiences. Then again, he doesn't have dealings with the friendliest of sentient beings.

"Yeah." He says with a nod. The communication speaker on his mask, appropriately, on at this point. "I'm alright."

'Strange' as in 'stranger', and also, 'why are you wearing a mask, weirdo'.

"So you make a habit of walking around with a weapon drawn? You must be new here." His lowering the weapon is 100% an invitation for her to come over, right? She's taking it as one. Do they have a lot of pink-haired chicks in his part of space? These are important things she needs to know. "Are you new here?"

This is an uncharted planet, miss pink haired lady! How should he know if he can breathe this air? Though, now that he sees her humanoid self, he's starting to wonder if the mask is necessary.

"Better safe than sorry, in my experience." With his free hand, he scratches at the tuft of shaggy brown hair that is all kinds of messed up from the straps of this breathing mask. "You ask me if I'm new here like people drop on this rock, spontaneously, all the time."

Oh, there are lots of maps. Whether they'll still be accurate after lunch is another matter. (Don't feed them broccoli, they get gassy and then everything's just a mess.)

"That's pretty much exactly how most of us end up here." She's not going to fault a newcomer for messed-up hair or a little paranoia. Although he does seem to be more in one piece than some newcomers. "Welcome to the Nexus."

Uncharted relative to him, as it is. Is Han Solo not a man that looks like he knows what he's doing? Wait. Don't answer that. He apparently came in when the nexus was ... feeling pretty stable. ~~If he should have crashed or something, my bad, guys.~~

"Well, then, yeah." He says, with a crease in his brow. "I guess I'm new."

Han looks around, unsure. Something about this place just feels wrong. Not in a transient, ethereal way. More like a unstable way, though he's not seen so much of this place to be sure.

((No, you're good. I just like to imagine things move around when nobody's looking.))

She'd love to say he'll get used to the instability, but to be honest, she's not sure anyone really can. Not entirely. People crave stability and it's always jarring when the ground shakes, metaphorically or physically.

Ver waits while he's looking around, arms folded in an effort to stay warm as much as habit. When he's looking her way again, she asks, "What are you looking for?"

"Uh."

Good question. It might be surprising for anyone to know that he came off the ship without much of a plan. Shocking, I know. He needs fuel, yeah. He's also tired and hungry. It was a mistake not to load up on more provisions for himself when he had stopped on Tatooine, but you should have seen the outrageous prices for food there. Produce? Forget it. They hardly get anything to grow in that backwater bantha hole.

"I guess I'll start with something to eat."

If he thinks these are the good questions, he should just wait. The philosophical debates this place can inspire are staggering.

"The Stellar Harp is close. C'mon, I'll show you if you'd like, I could use a coffee." She half-turns and waits to see if he's coming. "I'm Verity, by the way."

Oh, he's coming.

Especially at the promise of coffee. Chances are he can afford that, if this place takes credits, and if he ended up with nothing to eat for a while longer ... he could at least stave off the hunger for a few hours with a cup. Hard out there for a man getting starting in his own goods and services enterprise.

"Han." He says, still looking around like someone who just got there. Forgive him, he's a bit young and this place is a bit weird. "Captain Han Solo."

He's still getting used to calling himself that.

Edited 2016-02-15 21:04 (UTC)

It's adorable he thinks he's paying. Ver's invitation means her treat. (He might need to get used to the strong and independent women around here. It might come in handy in the future. Or he can enjoy getting spoiled while it lasts.)

"Captain... of your ship back there?" The name is familiar, but that just means people are talking about him, right? And that lopsided little smile of hers must mean they've been saying good things, surely. "Fancy. I barely even drive, nobody would ever trust me to steer something in three dimensions."

Their path to the cafe cuts through the Forum and turns down another side road, but it isn't far. It's a tossup whether he can see the sign or smell the croissants first.

Well, he currently thinks he's paying for his own anyway. When they get to that point, he'll probably want to turn down her generosity, but really, he's not in a good position for that at the moment.

"Yeah, that one you saw was probably mine." He presumes. The pilot hasn't exactly seen any other ones. "I started on two dimensions. Added the third later on."

Though it's not as if he can relate to driving a car. He started on swoops and speeders.

Almost nobody is, when they arrive. It's part of the whole 'huge surprise relocation' thing: nobody's warned to bring their wallets and their passports. Ver figures a cup of coffee is the least she can do for people.

"Oh? Is it a lot harder in three dimensions? Is it hard to switch from piloting in space and within a planet's gravitational field?" Since flying in space isn't a thing where she's from, she has a lot of questions. "Do you like cinnamon?"

"It is." He confirms. "There's a whole lot more ways to screw up and die."

There was, perhaps, a more elegant way to phrase that, but, finding the classy way to say something isn't Han's strong suit. Besides, he's starting to smell the food and, he's getting a touch cranky. He'll feel better after he's gotten something in his stomach.

"The ships where I come from will make some of the adjustments for you. Then, there are times you'll want to have precise numbers on what speed to be moving and what trajectory you want to approach certain things at, so you have to have an idea about how to make the calculations, even if the computers can make them for you."

As for cinnamon ...

"I'm not sure what you mean. There might be another word for it where I'm from."

Being blunt has its uses. Not that she wasn't paying attention before, but she's sure paying attention now.

"That sounds complicated," she admits, "even with the computers to help. You must be a very good pilot, to land so gracefully in a strange place. Cinnamon's a kind of a spice. I'll get something with cinnamon so we can find out if you know it or not." She was going to anyway, but this will be an added bonus.

"Here we are. Let's get inside, it'll be warmer." Looking him over briefly, she adds, "Aren't you cold?"

"Well, not to brag or anything, but yeah, I am a pretty good pilot." Though, really, Han isn't the best at calculations, nor does he have the reflexes that some people are reported to have, he just has a talent for flying and good instincts.

And, yep, he's cold. When he brought the Falcon in, the weather didn't seem so bad, but minutes after being outside, he realized the leather jacket he wore wasn't really enough. It's a good jacket. Lined with some of the same materials they line some of the all season gear with, but this place is almost Hoth cold. What he needed was a parka.

"A little." He admits as he darts inside where it's warm.

Edited 2016-02-16 03:48 (UTC)

Talent and instincts can get a person pretty far. Maybe right now isn't the best example of that. But for now, she'll hum agreeably. "Do you have a large crew?"

Ver's quick to follow him inside. There's no stomping-of-the-boots for her, because she knows just enough ice magic to pull the snow off and send it outside where it belongs. She does look rather funny, wiggling her fingers like that.

"May I?" She gestures to the snow on his boots once she's done with herself. Either way, it won't be there long; it's warm enough inside to melt all the snow pretty quick.

Han scratches his head, and looks down at his feet. Chewie. What he wouldn't give to have him here right now.

"Usually one besides me, but I was on my way to pick him up when I ended up here."

Shake it off Han, you can get through this. You've been through as bad or worse. That what he tells himself while she's doing her magic trick. He's so preoccupied with these thoughts at the moment that he doesn't process that she melted snow by wiggling her fingers.

"Yeah, sure." He says, giving her permission to ... uh ... what does she want to do? Eh. It's probably fine.

Clean boots and dry clothes, that's what she's doing. The 'how' isn't super important right now. (She can show off and be appreciated for it another time.)

"Ah, I hope you can find your way to him soon. There's some other people around here who travel in space, maybe they can help."

She's just so chill about these things. What in the world has she lived through?

"So, how do you take your coffee?"

((If you want a big group thread about it Ver can text some space peeps to come meet them. Or give him names of people to look for if you'd rather. It's all good.))

To be fair, let's let him enjoy her company for a little while before he has to freak out about her (surely to be misinterpreted by him as the force) powers. Though really, that is a very handy skill. Nice that it makes him dry without worry of burning.

"Black." He chimes in. Frankly, this will be a nice treat for him because when he's on the Falcon, he relies on instant and it's just not the same

((I'm happy with whatever. Since you know everyone best, I think, you should do the honors of inviting those you think might want in? Or not. I'm just happy to get Han some play.))

That's very fair. She's trying to keep him from freaking out, he'll do better here if he doesn't distrust everything. He can enjoy being warm and dry again while she orders: large black for him, something called an akhaccino for her, and two croissants. Maybe it's the fact she's ordering in French, or that her French is terrible and halting, that makes it easier for her to slip through the process of paying without his getting a chance.

"You want me to ask my friends to meet us here?"

"Well you could." He points out. "I mean, I can handle myself, but it's good to know who around here is on the level."

So that, might register to her as a lie? He can handle himself - he has done plenty of manipulating and dishonest things to keep himself getting by and certainly can continue to do that - but it's really hard on him not to have Chewbaca around. They haven't known each other long, but, he's starting to realize how much he relies on his loyal friend.

Anyway, yeah, the language change makes it hard for him to tell exactly what she's doing at the counter and it's further complicated by fact that while he sees them prepping her drink ... he's remembering what cinnamon is. Those distinctive, spice sticks. Oh, he doesn't know it by the basic name, but he knows what it's called in wookie and with it comes a whole flood of memories that he wasn't prepared to deal with at this moment.

He, finally, holsters that blaster and takes off the mask. He really should have taken it off when he noticed that every damn humanoid between his ship and this coffee place was breathing just fine. He rubs the heals of his hands, to hide the emotion welling up in them.

There's a pause before she speaks again, but there's no delay in the way her eyebrow arches up or the way her eyes briefly narrow like she's in pain. "I'm sure you can, but there's no reason to do it alone if there are people willing to help you. Most of us have been stranded here at one point or another, so we help each other out. It works pretty well."

Who needs government when you've got ~~good~~ helpful neighbors? Some people might prefer a place with more law and order, but Verity's not finding she misses it. She knows how to keep herself safe and to avoid the places where she can't. That's enough for her.

She's got her phone out while they wait, typing out messages and giving him as much emotional space as she can. Pretending to be absorbed by the texting is a good way to let him think she doesn't notice. "I'll ask Samus and Jim. I don't know what Jim's schedule looks like today, but Samus is probably around."

Their drinks are ready by the time she puts her phone away again, and the croissants are still warm. A perfect way to unwind, she hopes.

LET THE FANGIRLING COMMENCE!

Shucks. I just hope to do him justice and to enjoy the company of my fellow players.

I'm sure there will be no problems there. :) We're a pretty friendly bunch.

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Aye aye Cap'n! ;)

Make it so ...? God that sounds weird in my head when he says it.

...oh, that does sound wrong. Sorry. :(