k2so | [Open! Rp post]

It was a windy day on the Almar beach Sam had landed on, near low, pale cliffs, and nearer still to the town---she could hear hanging chimes being tested by gust after gust. She welcomed the weather, as her shuttle needed a good airing-out, and the breeze that eddied through its opened entrance was sometimes surprisingly strong, but pretty pleasant. It could've been worse, and elsewhere it was; the pick-up she'd meant to make had been delayed by heavy rains, and so she found herself with spare time. She'd settled down to make good use of it, seated on a mat on the shuttle floor, cradling a project piece. The fixture was old, and roughened by verdigris, but she'd offered to restore it to curry favour and so far enjoyed the work. It could become tedious, under other circumstances, but with the ocean air and a starboard view of the seaside, it was only agreeable.

Edited 2017-05-07 20:12 (UTC)

[Kay liked to stay on schedule and consider all the variables when they were executing a plan. This was why he absolutely loathed how unpredictable the weather often turned out to be. It delayed the best of plans and often made things harder than they should be. This time, it was the reason why Cassian and him were stuck on the planet for longer they were supposed to. Their mission had been brief and it has gone well, which meant Cassian was in a better mood than Kay was, and he didn't mind much of his friend wandering around the planet to explore for a bit and blow some steam.

Kay had spotted the ship landing and immediately recognized it. After that, it didn't take him long to head towards it and notice the woman sat on the shuttle floor.]

It's a small galaxy after all. [He said as greetings, walking slowly so Sam could realize it was him and not another Imperial droid.] I can't believe you are still piloting that metal box with wings. How hasn't it fallen apart?

[Sam looked up, clearly surprised by being spoken to---and at least as surprised to see the speaker. Despite that speaker being an Imperial security droid and still approaching, alarm never found its way to her face; her expression was instead one of immense uncertainty, until it lit in recognition a moment later.]

You! I thought that was your friend with the coat I saw my tag-along talking to in town. I'd just passed by, so I wasn't sure. I am sure than my metal box is a very sturdy one, though, and that's your answer.

[Staring he could take easily. Sam didn't pull out a blaster to shoot at him, so by Kay's standards the meeting already started on the right foot.]

He's around here, checking a few things in our ship before we leave. We were waiting of the skies to clear. Being sure of something without sufficient data might bring you trouble.

[Kay's head leans forward, trying to get a look at the object in her hands.] Busy?

You might be waiting a while. I'm not sure how close to here the storm's going to come, but I know it's ugly where I was going to go---worse wind, rain, lightning, the works. [It's nice to have someone she sort of knows to chat with, whether it's about weather, or work, or anything else. Talking to people has never been difficult for her, but many of her tag-alongs are guarded in their conversations, and the passengers who do trust her often spend their time aboard her shuttle busy with their own work. Given the state of the galaxy, asking too many questions about that work is... discourteous, at best. Her own work is another matter, and so Sam cheerfully holds up the chandelier for the droid to see it better.] Sort of, but I'm not too busy to talk. Have a seat? If you want.

[He could join her in sitting on the floor, or settle somewhere on the sole row of seats Sam's shuttle has. Those seats are secured along one wall, and there was once a second row opposite... but those seats have been removed. The space where seats were (plus a little extra) is now partitioned off with a collapsible wall of thin metal sheets. The wall could be folded up and fastened to one of the shuttle's real walls, but no-one's ever seen it compacted; presumably, the little room it creates serves as Sam's cabin. The shuttle certainly has a lived-in look, with the wall opposite the cockpit hosting a tiny galley and dining nook. Here and there, transparisteel spheres full of dirt and roots were fixed in place, and vines spilled from their small openings.]

The last time we dealt with a storm as bad as that one we crashed the ship. The Rebellion doesn't have many of those to spare and since our work here is done we are being cautious and patient this time.

[He likes to be able to speak freely to Sam too. She knows of their situation, he doesn't have to talk in riddles and with second meanings around her -something Kay has never been good at- and she's actually fun to chat with.

He nods at the offer, appreciating it, and then gives the ship a proper look.] Every time I see it, your ship looks different. Are you sure it doesn't have a life on its own?

[In the end, he sits close to the woman because Kay doesn't trust himself to not break somethign by accident.]

Probably for the best, and besides, there are worse places to wait. [Sam's turned her eyes back to the chandelier she's cradling, using a wooden pick to tease crud out of its joints.] Unless the humidity here is bad for you, or you feel strongly about the marmaws. I saw a few in the water when I was coming in, but I think my landing scared them away. Can't say I'm too sorry.

[They're interesting animals, but they're also very large and carnivorous and best seen from far away---unlike the shuttle, which is best appreciated up close and personal, as her visitor has no doubt noticed. Sam grins.]

Not as sure as I should be, maybe, since it sort of does. It's.... evolving, is a good word for it. Bits and pieces repaired or upgraded on the regular, or as close to 'on the regular' as my credits will let me come. Next time: its environmental regulation system.

That's true. At least this planet is mostly safe from the Empire. ['Mostly' because you can't never be sure when the bastards will show up to ruin things.]

Have you run into any trouble with them lately? My best guess is no, since we are talking and you are obviously not in a cell. [But he worries regardless, and that's why he asked.] I'd take humid planets over dry one with sand any day. Can't say I'm sorry for the Marmaws either, no.

[Kay head tilts to the side and he eyes the ship critically for a second before his attention goes back to Sam.] Evolving. Interesting choice of words. What's wrong with the regulation system?

No trouble, no. Some weeks ago I had to deliver a section of fresco to what was probably a high-ranking Imperial officer because she'd purchased it at an auction one of my regular employers had arranged, but it had been a very private auction. [Which was to say especially expensive and borderline black market.] So there was nothing suspicious about an officially-unaffiliated shuttle doing the delivering. Passing on the job would've been more suspicious, so...

[She shrugs.]

I put on my best 'neutral' face and all went well.

[It helps that she's developed a reputation among some art traders as a reliable go-between. It's a niche, sure, but it's usually an agreeable one.]

The best word, I think, for its adaptive development. And the system... [She sighs.] More and more frequently, the temperature will rise or fall no matter what I have it set to. Since this used to be a freight shuttle, it still has failsafes to prevent the temperature from going too high or too low, and while those failsafes ensure I won't cook or freeze.... it's sometimes very uncomfortable in here.

A lot of them do that sort of private auctions. [Kay doesn't bother to hide his disdain. He might not believe in the cause with the same fierce dedication as Cassian but he's still displeased by the Empire's modus operandi.] You chose right. And by any chance, do you remember where that sort of auctions take place? It wouldn't hurt to know.

[Kay wouldn't interfere in Sam's job but it would be helpful to the Rebellion to know about the illegal trades and where to find them. Some Imperials might find that their cargos go missing in the future.]

The failsafe might break at any moment too and then there's an 88% of probabilities that you would die. That's an 87% too many. [Kay as never seen the point of sugarcoating this kind of information, so he's very blunt while sharing it.] Let em have a look at it.

There's a lot of posturing there. Lots of flaunting, subtle slights. Makes a lot of them insufferable, and makes me glad I'm not out on the floor during the selling... or the showing. But by all means, each ought to pursue that perfect piece of statuary, or tapestry, or engraving---it's better they do that than work, and if a portion of the credits they spend trickle into your hands, or your friends' hands, for supplies, information, materials? It's worth putting that neutral face on again. [Pausing to exchange the pick for a brush, she gives the droid a sly smile.] I should be able to recover a couple sets of coordinates, since we aren't in any real rush.

[The failsafe is probably the most reliable thing on the shuttle, being one of the few pieces of original equipment still fulfilling its original purpose and only its original purpose, but Sam isn't going to argue; it's true that it could break down or malfunction, and if that unlikely event occurs in spite of the odds, she'll suffer. Rather than argue, or attempt to defend her shuttle, she sets her work aside and stands.]

I don't think we've even ever been properly introduced, but alright.

Imperial always puts the value on the wrong things.

[Sure, having money, or exclusive art is nice but when that's all you care about? When a piece of ancient tapestry is more valuable to you than the life of those under your command then you aren't worth much yourself.

It's really frustrating for Kay to know that before Cassian reprogrammed him and blocked the Imperial protocols, allowing him to develop his own personality, he was helping them to maintain their regimen.]

And thank you, that would be really useful for us. It might even get Cassian's to smile. You know that if you are in trouble you can contact us too.

[Kay is an expert at calculating all the things that could go wrong, he doesn't do it out of malice. He does so they can be avoided. Standing up again, he tilts his head at the woman.]

Oh. No? I'm K-2SO. Kaytoo is just fine.

Makes me lucky. If their attention were always where it ought to be, they might notice me more. [It is... unfortunate that the Empire is the way it is, what it is, and that so many should suffer not only its tyranny but the callousness it causes, but an opening is an opening. If the upper ranks (and those who aspire to join them) hope to accrue gravitas through showcasing their resources in such an ostentatious way, someone should exploit it. Insofar as Sam's concerned, there's no better someone than she.] That said, I agree.

And oh? On both counts! I like to see whatever I can see as I go about my business; you make it sound like that smile's a rare sight. We'll have to see if the coordinates are enough to warrant one. [She may only know Cassian by sight---and still think of him as 'the one with the coat'---but he seems a serious sort. Dry humour, she'd guess, if he has any. But then there's 'if you are in trouble...'.] Thank you for that. Can I also contact you if I am not yet in trouble, but expect I'm shortly gonna be?

[Sam smiles a little to herself at how huge and gangling Kay looks in the small space of her shuttle. If it wasn't originally meant for freight, pallets and crates stacked high, there probably wouldn't be room for the droid to stand up straight. She offers him a hand, meaning to shake his in both of hers if he accepts.]

Sam. Most of the time.

We are fortunate that they're as bad as noticing things as troopers are at firing weapons. [Seriously, what these people even do in the StormTrooper academy? Learn how to miss? Kay hopes that never changes.]

The smile is a rare sight. A genuine one, that's it. Too many years in the military business, you see. [No matter that, Cassian is a loyal friend to have. If he has a mission or an objective in mind, he won't stop until the job is done.] Yes, that's fine. Actually, it's better if you call us before hell breaks loose. I take it that it happens often?

[Kay is used to having issues with small spaces, just not this many issues. He still tries not to hit anything by accident and shakes Sam's hand when offered.]

I knew your name. [Or at least Cassian did, since the Rebellion spies have the tendency to investigate as much as he can about those he gets in contact with. To be honest, they haven't found much about her, which spoke of how good she was at what she did.] Most of the time?

We are, indeed. [It isn't always that the Imperials are bad at noticing things, or so Sam likes to think; sometimes, it's helped that she's learned to hold herself just so and seem uninteresting. She'd done the same thing as a student, when an instructor was clearly looking for someone to call out and question, but 'avoiding arrest' prompts more practice than 'avoiding embarrassment.' Her school days aren't far off---only a few years---but it feels as if they're long, long past.]

Ah, I do see. I expect too long in the military might have that effect on anybody. [She can only imagine... and not well, either, since the military experience is so far removed from her own, all improvised.] I'll call as soon as I suspect I can't eel my own way out of whatever it is, then, but no---not at all! Trouble very seldom finds me. I am, after all, a respectable and careful courier.

[She punctuates this assertion by tapping lightly on Kay's torso, before moving into the cockpit and crowding into the corner opposite the troublesome components, so that the droid could have a reasonable amount of room.]

Oh. Well, now you have it from me---and yes, most of the time. No matter how respectable, I think most people in this business use an alias on occasion.

[Some people all around the Galaxy were more gifted than others in that regard. It wasn't like the old times, of course, with individuas with higher sensibility and much more attuned to the Force. Now those were far too few, doomed to hide or be caught and prosecuted. Kay didn't really think or know much of it. They were mostly old stories some grandparents told their children, there was no point on thinking about things long gone.

He nodded at Sam, optics already looking for flaws in the machinery and circuits around of him.] Cassian was never all that cheerful to begin with, it just got worse lately. [And it worried Kay, if he was honest with himself. But enough of that gloomy subject, it won't help any of them.] Do you have an hydrospanner by any chance? My fingers can only reach so far, and I'd like to keep the all ten once I'm done fixing this thing.

[Kay's vocoder makes a short huff, that it any human would be called a chuckle at her tapping.] Oh, yes, we are all very respectable around here. But it never hurts to be extra careful. Using alias is the safest choice, having a face easy to forget also helps. Do tell, what made you become a respectable courier, from all jobs in the Galaxy? Do you like art that much?

Maybe the right rumour will turn that around, at least for a little while. [Of course, she can and will do better than a rumour, but 'rumour' implies some comfortable distance; the sort that lets one say 'I can't remember where I heard this, but...'] And of course. I'll grab you the toolkit. You'll find most of the environment regulating apparatus in that bank to the left; the failsafe's installed over here, on the opposite side.

[Which is to say: safely across the cockpit. Sam steps out---a single step, given the compact arrangement of her shuttle---to retrieve the tools from the storage cabinet, then slides the case over to where Kay will work. She again settles out of the way, smiling at his huff, and smiling a bit brighter at his claim 'we are all very respectable.']

I do like art, that much, actually. I like it enough to have gone to school to study art restoration, and, after that, find a museum to attach myself to as a sort of work-study. It was good for a while... but then the museum's ah, controlling interests, seemed to shift. Pieces were pulled, and other displays went out with partial or inaccurate information. Not poorly-researched inaccurate, but falsified inaccurate. 'How far is this going to go?' I thought, and then: 'I should get out, while the getting is good.'

Maybe, yes. [She's better at that than Kay, who can lie to save his life. Literally, can't lie to safe his life. Cassian thinks it's an awful trait for a spy.] Uhm...I see, thank you.

[Kay shift his head only slightly as he looks around as Sam offer information. It's a small ship but he can tell it has all the important things and gadgets, even if some are rather old. He gets back to work once he has what he needs, listening to Sam an offering insight when he finds is the right moment.]

Art is very important to understand a culture, if you actually bother to do that. Not many people does under the Empire's rules. I know it didn't use to be like that, I had the opportunity to talk with droids much older than me. [He pauses briefly, remembering Threepio. 'Old' didn't quite cover it.]

You meant that they started to use Museums as money machines. [He sounds disgusted at the thought.]

We'll have to hope, hey?

[Some are rather old, and some are out-of-place, incorporated in unusual configurations, but everything's there, and everything—or, almost everything—works the way it ought to. The shuttle's systems are a little like the life they enable: pretty patchwork.]

I'd've liked to overhear those conversations. [She means it, too.] I bet they were very interesting. And... sort of.

The museums, and the academic programs attached to them, they definitely found ways of making more profitable. But it wasn't just that. [Not just the fees, not just missing pieces, not just pieces replaced with what were probably carefully-commissioned imitations.] It was the way the history of the pieces was being re-written. Not wholesale, maybe, but credit was going to wrong people, wrong times. Names were dropped, substituted. Stuff like that. Stuff someone like me couldn't really remark on; stuff someone like me shouldn't get noticed noticing.

Ah, yes. Rebels love that word. [Kay is a bit skeptical when it comes to the word. He knows it's important but hope implies putting faith on things you have not enough data to quantify, not enough information to calculate and outcome or even know if it's real. And yet, it is important.]

If you ever pay our base a visit I'll let you meet Threepio. And I promise to come to make him stop after 2 hours max. Protocols droids can talk someone's ear off if they realize people is actually listening to them.

[Kay reaches inside the machinery to fidget with a few pieces. Some a few he doesn't recognize but can extrapolate its function. He looked over at Sam after that explanation.]

That is worse. [He sounds almost offended.] Rewriting history to make themselves more important or to look like the ones who did things right is cheating.

Well, it sounds better than saying 'we'll bet,' even if amounts to the same. [Sam will flash Kay a crooked grin, shrugging a little when he'll see her do so.] Though I'm not betting anything very concrete this time around. My time, maybe? Sure; they say time is money.

I think I'll have to visit, now. Or, at least, whenever I've got an excuse. Stopping in just to socialize would probably be frowned on, eh?

[She nods. To seek more profit was maybe a little crass, but it was also understandable, especially if one had some experience in the business of art.]

I wasn't gonna be complicit in that. Doing what I do now is maybe not doing much... but I have the distance, and every now and again, the opportunity, to do a little undermining.

True, that. [He can fault her for not betting for real. Mostly everyone who isn't part of the Empire is always struggling to get by.]

You would be surprised how welcome the Rebels can be if you announce your arrival beforehand. They like to have more contacts and allies. [But the key is to warn them first, as Kay said. Otherwise, she would be welcome with firepower, and Kay is sure this poor excuse of a ship won't resist such attack.] Both of us could get positive things out of it. Or at least I would get entertained listening to what you will say to them.

[Some more tinkering is done before Kay takes out a small and slightly bent metal bar from inside the panel he's working on. It's not much bigger than a pencil.] You're smart enough to do it without being noticed too.

[He handles the pencil-sized metal bar to Sam.] You need to have this piece, it's the wrong size. This is a number 7, you need a number 6, that's why it doesn't fit right and causes trouble. Shouldn't be too hard to find on any market.

[Open! Rp post]

PSL as per discussion

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/arrives 15 Minutes Late With Starbucks ...I'm sorry

i still love you

cos you are the best ♥

♥ no, you are

♥3♥