I'nu
Feb 26th, 2010, 02:20:57 PM
Color Me Space
Space – black and ugly space – filled with stars, waiting to be marveled. In all the glory space held, few took the time to watch it work. Despite the voyages across the deep vastness, troubles in the farthest Rims weaved to be meaningful by the politicians; little was spoken of about space itself. Vessels simply darted through the universe effortlessly. Unknown to them all was how space hated their presence. Meat-bag after meat-bag floated along in hunks of junk, carved out to seem artistic and useful. Cultures of infestations sprawled over balls, surviving, thriving and sometimes barely living near shining centers throughout the galaxies. Gas and lights flourished about in mixed colors, mistaken as something beautiful with words like nebula. The mix was similar to the faces that flew right through it all; mistaken and unaware of their significance in the deep darkness. I’nu was one of the misguided. His hands guiding the shuttle as he docked on the Dauntless.
Orders were sent out days before. He was allowed to stock up, ship out, and sell. Allowed to play merchant for a few days, trade, and then go back to his spacer life. I’nu had been living this way for only a few months now, but it seemed like a natural ritual. Before, he was simply a junk dealer. Anything he got in, went out. Lost in heaps of archaic heaps in his uncle’s shop on Ord Mantell wasn’t a fitting way of life for a boy his age.
Years of training in the Teras Kasi arts, and boiling blood of Cathar weren’t meant for meager means. The galaxy awaited him, and he wasn’t one to expect patience. Even as he slipped out the cockpit and down the walkway onto the landing bay, he thought on this. Sparkles of Alliance wear revolved around him. Over the war much had been brought in. The Alliance was a rag-tag crew of flunkies that scraped up anything and made something out of it. In a way, the smile that ran across his lips as he looked around himself, was of pride. He was happy to participate, in some way, to the war – it gave him a kind of meaning that deals with the Hutts couldn’t.
“Follow me.” The man stood by the door. Decked in an orange jumpsuit, he looked ready for combat. He stood stout as I’nu walked leisurally up the ramp.
“Bid’ness calls, eh?” I’nu joked. The man didn’t. Before another smug word could go flying out I’nu’s lips the man pivoted and led. All the half-breed could do was shake his head, and trail. If there was anything he didn’t like about the Alliance was the way they handle things. So inconsistent. Sometimes there was the charisma of a smuggler to greet him, or an uppity former-princess. Really, he never knew if he should come off his ship with a tie, or a blaster in hand.
“Always dis gentlemanly,” He asked as the soldier trotted down the bright halls. A click opened the lift. The troop entered, turned, raised his brow and waited. I’nu smiled with his lips and drifted in. A click closed the lift. The doors sled shut. A zoom hummed in their ears and they went up. Soon the young dealer would be off in his quarters, waiting on his cargo to unload.
Time to set up shop – this will be fun.
Space – black and ugly space – filled with stars, waiting to be marveled. In all the glory space held, few took the time to watch it work. Despite the voyages across the deep vastness, troubles in the farthest Rims weaved to be meaningful by the politicians; little was spoken of about space itself. Vessels simply darted through the universe effortlessly. Unknown to them all was how space hated their presence. Meat-bag after meat-bag floated along in hunks of junk, carved out to seem artistic and useful. Cultures of infestations sprawled over balls, surviving, thriving and sometimes barely living near shining centers throughout the galaxies. Gas and lights flourished about in mixed colors, mistaken as something beautiful with words like nebula. The mix was similar to the faces that flew right through it all; mistaken and unaware of their significance in the deep darkness. I’nu was one of the misguided. His hands guiding the shuttle as he docked on the Dauntless.
Orders were sent out days before. He was allowed to stock up, ship out, and sell. Allowed to play merchant for a few days, trade, and then go back to his spacer life. I’nu had been living this way for only a few months now, but it seemed like a natural ritual. Before, he was simply a junk dealer. Anything he got in, went out. Lost in heaps of archaic heaps in his uncle’s shop on Ord Mantell wasn’t a fitting way of life for a boy his age.
Years of training in the Teras Kasi arts, and boiling blood of Cathar weren’t meant for meager means. The galaxy awaited him, and he wasn’t one to expect patience. Even as he slipped out the cockpit and down the walkway onto the landing bay, he thought on this. Sparkles of Alliance wear revolved around him. Over the war much had been brought in. The Alliance was a rag-tag crew of flunkies that scraped up anything and made something out of it. In a way, the smile that ran across his lips as he looked around himself, was of pride. He was happy to participate, in some way, to the war – it gave him a kind of meaning that deals with the Hutts couldn’t.
“Follow me.” The man stood by the door. Decked in an orange jumpsuit, he looked ready for combat. He stood stout as I’nu walked leisurally up the ramp.
“Bid’ness calls, eh?” I’nu joked. The man didn’t. Before another smug word could go flying out I’nu’s lips the man pivoted and led. All the half-breed could do was shake his head, and trail. If there was anything he didn’t like about the Alliance was the way they handle things. So inconsistent. Sometimes there was the charisma of a smuggler to greet him, or an uppity former-princess. Really, he never knew if he should come off his ship with a tie, or a blaster in hand.
“Always dis gentlemanly,” He asked as the soldier trotted down the bright halls. A click opened the lift. The troop entered, turned, raised his brow and waited. I’nu smiled with his lips and drifted in. A click closed the lift. The doors sled shut. A zoom hummed in their ears and they went up. Soon the young dealer would be off in his quarters, waiting on his cargo to unload.
Time to set up shop – this will be fun.