Zephyr Song

[Za'in]

Jizz mused in the background. Another night had passed, and he wasn't fond of the dark alone. Even as a boy he wrestled in the bed with his mother. He was scared of the dark, and he needed something soft, like a teddy bear, to hold onto. Instead of a fluffy Wookie, he decided on a Togruta at the bar.

Night had passed, and so had her importance. Before he could get out the bed, he came to realization of the drill. The girl was long gone, with only an imprint beside him to remain.

He wasn't bothered by it one bit.

For a moment, he felt at ease. The world around him was dark, lit only by the shutters that revealed the world outside. Bespin was a world of opportunity, and through all his voyages he had learned to call Cloud City home. A small little cantina had been established by him and his friend after a few deals here and there, but times had changed from the start. The friends weren't around now, it wasn't a good idea in the first place. Some friends just aren't reliable in the face of business, so he went into the endeavors with a new face.

A quick stand send him back to work, throwing on his clothes as he ready himself for the day. Casual wear was an apparent fashion statement amongst the Cloud City citizens, at least where the most festive cantina called home.

"Well, time to go." He called, his droid following as he fled the apartment room. Hanging around the house all day just didn't sit well with his busy body.

[Raurn Tarplas]

One sigh set the groggy voice straight.

It felt as though a whole day had passed as he sat, impatiently, waiting for the docking coordinates. The ports were a bustle, as he remembered, but he expected a slight let-up for his long wait. At least somebody out there cared for him, he hoped - but such ideals were hopeless. The only objective that most of these men and women shared were their own success.

It was a shame.

Ages had passed since his own goals were most important. The Gungan had grown old, wiser, and had a grasp of the galaxy from a different eye. Childhood had long passed, and with it came other's childhood. The safety of others became significant, and selfish guidelines didn't work within that realm.

Back on Naboo sat a family, and though he rarely found enough time for lengthy stays - they were the most important people in his life. For him, Cloud City was just another planet that he had business on.

"Where is Za'in, frag..."

[Za'in]

"Shut up, I'm right behind you."

The rough, rasp of his voice was only known to him in the morning. Every time he spoke after a quick rise always had the same tone, no matter his intentions. It gave him a gruff nature, despite his naturally smooth locks and more beautiful than handsome looks that he got from his mom.

The little button nose just didn't match his cool voice.

[Raurn Tarplas]

The Gungan's head switch about, catching the young, but taller Za'in. A smirk flush his lips as he took a gander once more. The two eyes lifted from head to toe, and to and fro to reassure himself. A long time had passed since the two had seen each other, but it was quite certainly him.

"Ay! Ay!" The two shared a laugh, a hug, and headed off down the hall.

One click set the lift into motion for their level. The wait wasn't always long, but it was enough time to start diving into the protocol...the business.

"So, we can talk about what's been goin' on later. What is goin' on now?"

[Za'in]

The door opened, and only a few faces were sprinkled around the large lifting chamber. No one seemed concern, or even curious as the two entered and slither off to the side. The two didn't have far to go, so the eerie silence wouldn't have to be endured for long.

"Well, I got this idea."

An eye shot over from the Gungan. Anytime the youthful mind had fumble over an idea, there was something to talk about. A lot of the business on Cloud City managed to handle itself, but whenever new concepts came into play there was possibilities that imagination created limits on.

Especially when the young conjure up the ideas.

"Matta fact, I'll sho' ya."

[Raurn Tarplas]

The door opened.

It wasn't there stop. A couple spilled out, their hands holding onto each other. The reptillan type, they never looked to be romantic - despite all their tries. Every time Raurn saw a Trandoshan or something of that sort there never was any room for attraction. They were so weird to him...so different.

"Where at?"

[Za'in]

"Back of the office, old man."

A smirk lifted his lips as he glanced over. Another stop was coming, but he had long forgotten about the office's coordinates. Although he was there everyday, pretty girls had a way of distracting him.

She smiled, and he smiled back.

Then, she headed off. It was his luck, the stop was her stop.

"Frell," he murmured.

[Raurn Tarplas]

"Yousa and those girlsies. You betta get a hold on that..."

Raurn remembered the stop. The only woman on his mind was his wife back home. He couldn't wait to see her again - it had been a few months.

[Za'in]

"Eh, whateva."

The door opened once more, and a few midgets strolled in with backpacks on their backs and nuna slippers on. They were quite pecuilar. Za'in wanted to laugh, but he put his hand over his mouth instead.

[Raurn Tarplas]

"Dont you dare..." Raurn whispered.

[Za'in]

The door opened again. The midgets were mad, but Za'in didn't care. The stop was here, so he spilled out with a laugh.

Somehow, his luck worked in his favor because the viscious midget lunge toward him only to find the door shutting in his face.

[Raurn Tarplas]

"Don't embarass me like that!"

[Za'in]

"What? Me?"

Za'in could barley stop laughing, but he managed the words. One last chuckle left his head shaking, slightly confused about the whole ordeal. Midgets were a rarity, but the nuna slippers topped it off. No one wore those... no one.

"Here wesa are," he mocked. Gungan's had a funny accent here and there, despite how Raurn tried to lull it.

[Raurn Tarplas]

Habit shook the Gungan's head. The little jabs and punches the young boy through had become worthless over time. He liked to mock the Gungan speech patterns, culture and other Naboo traits at times. Although Za'in hadn't venture into the Mid Rim often, Naboo was a renown planet. All the beauty had created an envy streak through space lanes, while people were stuck on dustballs and remembered the days of Naboo.

A storied homeland of his, Raurn couldn't be troubled by such simple things.

The goal here remained the same for the two. Both of them aim for prosperity, that was the connection they had in spite of all the other subjects they digress to. Nothing changed since the day they met, they both wanted to manage their lives, despite all the forces which said otherwise.

Raurn life became all the more perilous with the strain of income calling from home. Any time they needed credits, he had to be there. From both channels of illicit means, or legal - he stood as a fortress for his family well-being. He was entrusted with the provider role, and whenever he falter it was known.

Even as the door opened, his mind was trained on that track. Za'in slither in before him as the artifical lights flashed to life about. The old quarters were revealed, all the artifacts and small ornaments that many young spacers gawked at, while the elders ignored.

Time had given the old Gungan all the meaningless, yet treasured, creations that his chambers were riddled with. Every day his young business partner had gander at the spectacle, so the remarks that once were died in the face of seriousness.

"Well, where issa at?"

[Za'in]

"Calm down, gray. It's back here."

[Raurn Tarplas]

Raurn followed, darkness finding a home as he was lead into the dim depths of the chamber below. An eyebrow raised in the shroud of darkness. The light's abscence left his peer futile, yet impulses called for a focus of his eye. A strain yank at his aged eyes, while his hide chilled as every step brought him closer to the source.

A cool massaged his body. Cloud City was a place of warmth, even heat and forged weathers that Raurn didn't require a hefty load of clothes for. Even the carbon holds down below beckon no attention for such a Gungan, so he dressed in only a shirt and slacks.

If only he knew what the idea was.

"Boy, imma get'n impatient."

[Za'in]

The Boy had delve into the basement daily. Albeit the idea was new, he had found the cold, darkness of the grounds below as a perfect place for balance. No one even knew of the place, and his mind was always cleared by the serenity found with his jukebox and archaic candles amidst the old tool shop.

Long ago the place had been used for stocking of all kind. A lot of remodeling had shaped the place into a variation of many trades, and the remnants of old businesses could be found riddled across the forgotten depths. Old tools dangled from the walls, ship parts sprinkled across the corners and hover boards stacked on the floors. Wires spark above, their purpose nearly forgotten until only a few months back.

One click slipped the lights on as Za'in's face was once more revealed. A grin was pasted along his lips as his eyes found the goal. The sturdy beauty, carve and sewn as a symbol of lost cultures sat a Bounty Hunter's armor. Gold, brown and burgundy fashioned the wear in a formidable hue. The helm mirror the dread a hunter demanded, while it gleamed in a sparkling gold.

"This is the idea..."

[Raurn Tarplas]

"What, what is this?"

[Za'in]

"I found it."

Za'in twisted around a few scraps the old basement claimed. One day he would find a purpose amidst all the junk, but as of now the only aim was the hunter's armor.

Sliding up beside it, he placed his hand on it. A carbonate machine kept the forgotten attire fresh and new. Time had known the armor from ages pass, even before the Gungan roam the Naboo's sacred plains. Albeit forgotten, it still remained a face of terror.

It could be used.

"We can use this."

[Raurn Tarplas]

"What?!"

Raurn glanced over at his partner. Not a thought tricked out with confusion could be formulated. There was no answer, not a single one that he could compute.

"How?"

[Za'in]

"Well, I told ya I had an idea."

The chambers weren't worthless. Seats and tables had been prepared. From what the previous owner had revealed, the place had been used as a gamblers cabin. The mainstream flash of credits in casinos weren't always the best place for gambits to flourish. Some even used the place as a hang-out, but those times were long gone.

Za'in dropped into his seat, his feet thrown up on a table as he gazed up at Raurn. The old man just didn't have the vision he had.

"I can use this. You can use this. Hired hands can use this. This could be like...a vessel."

[Raurn Tarplas]

The old man's body ached as he pushed the chair back and sat. All his muscles were tight from the sudden shock, and startle. There was no room for any usage by him. Raurn was getting up there and age, and his sharp moves weren't like back when he was a soldier against the Trade Federation.

Those times were long gone.

"A vessel to me death bed, boy. I dont knows ifsa notice. I aintchu...I aint young."

[Za'in]

"I've put it on. You can still do it - ya just dont know..."

[Raurn Tarplas]

"What do ya mean by dats?"

The eyebrow was arched again. Although the man had saw many advancement in technology, he hadn't bore an experience that revitilized his youth. The armor was impressive, but it was unlikely to do such fascinating things.

[Za'in]

"Non-believers."

Za'in smiled, pressed his hand on a jukebox and closed his eyes. The music eased through his ears as he listened to his favorite song. Another one of the local jizz bands had been outdone by a Galactic famed name, and he was there to witness it.

Since that day he couldn't help but play their music everytime he was down in the basement.

"Just listen."

[Raurn Tarplas]

"Silly kid.

We'll see."