No One Liners
Join Date: Dec 2005
Location: Scotland, UK
Current Game: SWOTR
Chapter 6--part 4
Jolee was kneeling in front of a storage cabinet in the med bay busy inventorying his supplies, when he heard someone behind him knock lightly on the hatch frame.
His eyes rolled as he turned to confront the interloper. “Look, can’t you see I’m….” He paused as he instantly recognised the unique shade of purple fabric that pooled elegantly on the floor in front of him. Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet a pair of light violet ones set in an expressionless yet flawless face. “Keeper Ithra. It’s you,” he said by way of apology as he rose to stand. “Is there something you need?”
Ithra stared at him for a moment before speaking. “Food,” she finally said.
“Food?” Jolee eyed her over, then chuckled. “Well, if you’re hungry, I can show you how to use the dispensers…”
“Berland has effectively demonstrated their operation to me,” she said frankly. “But whatever that ’product’ is that they dispense….” She shivered with revulsion. “It is not food. The Jedi Juhani suggested that you might be able to assist me.”
Jolee laughed this time. “Ah! So you’re a kindred spirit, are you?”
“No, just looking for something that isn’t….” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Something that is slightly more… palatable.”
“Ach, go on. You can say it,” Jolee urged. “No one will argue with you, least of all me. The stuff that comes out of those processors is a disgusting, stomach churning, over-processed, flavourless muck, with the texture and colour of banth…”
Ithra swallowed back bile. “Yes,” she hurriedly interrupted. “All those things.”
“Oh, sorry,” said Jolee. He scratched his temple. “I have a tendency to get a little carried away sometimes.” Jolee waved a dismissive hand in the air. “So, what were we talking about? Oh, food! Well, let me see what I can do.”
The old Jedi began rummaging through one of the storage units and finally pulled out a small container. “Here’s something you might like,” he said. He opened the container to reveal a quantity of small, oval shaped pellets in a variety of bright colours. “Zorgang nuts. Extremely nutritious, incredibly tasty, very colourful, and most importantly,” he lowered his voice, “of a size that’s easy to hide. Go on. Take it. I’ve got plenty.”
Ithra’s eyes brightened, and a demure grin slowly appeared. “Thank you,” she said, politely taking the container then concealing it under her cloak. “I will try them.”
“Is there anything else you need?”
“No. Yes,” she said, changing her mind. “I am curious about something. The T’wilek female that travels with you….”
“Mission. Her name is Mission.”
“Mission,” Ithra repeated. “What is her position on this ship?”
“Her… purpose,” Ithra clarified. “It is obvious that you are the Medical Officer. What position does she serve?”
Jolee rubbed his chin. “Well, she’s…she’s pretty good at slicing.”
Ithra frowned. “Slicing?”
“You know…slicing through security locks and computer access codes…”
“She’s a criminal?” Ithra said, appalled.
“Well, no…I mean, I wouldn’t go as far as that,” said Jolee. “Let’s just say Mission likes to live her life on the fringe. Sort of thinks outside the box.”
Ithra raised an eyebrow.
“But she would never harm anyone,” Jolee continued. “Well, not out of malice anyway,” he added in retrospect.
“I see,” Ithra said curtly. “And what does her Wookiee do?”
“’Her’ Wookiee?” Jolee chortled. “Well, first of all, Zalbaar doesn’t ‘belong’ to Mission. He’s just her friend. And, take my advice: don’t ever mention that you thought Zalbaar ‘belonged’ to anyone in front of him. Unless, of course, you want to know what it feels like to have your arm pulled out of its socket.”
Ithra’s eyes grew wide.
“Wookiees have been known to do that, you know,” Jolee continued. “Wookiee’s are very strong, fierce fighters and expert hunters. But,” he added sadly, “some folk think they’re only good as slaves, and, understandably, the Wookiees are pretty sensitive about the subject. And some think that the Wookiees aren’t that intelligent since they can’t speak Basic. But don’t let that fool you. They’re just as smart as anyone else—smarter in some cases. Proud and honourable creatures, the Wookies. In fact, honour is why Zalbaar’s here. He has a life debt to Rade, a sort of pledge that the Wookiee’s take very, very seriously. Zalbaar will stay with Rade until the end.”
“You seem to know a lot about Wookiees.”
“I should,” Jolee said proudly. “I spent years in the Shadowlands on Kashyyyk. I’ve met plenty of Wookiees. Even made some very good friends.”
“But you still have not answered my question,” Ithra persisted. “What does the Wookiee…what does Zalbaar do on this ship?”
“Oh, sorry,” said Jolee. “Must have gotten off track again. Well, let’s see….” Jolee pulled at his beard. “He’s a good warrior, can handle most any weapon—blasters, bowcasters, swords—never mind his inherent natural strength. And he’s pretty good with demolitions, too—grenades and mines and the like. I guess if you’re calling me the Medical Officer, you could say he’s the Weapons Officer on board. Does that answer your question?”
Ithra nodded. “Yes. Thank you. You have been very… helpful.” She turned to leave. “And thank you for the nuts,” she added.
“Don’t mention it. And I mean that, mind you,” he said, wagging a finger at her. "*Don’t* mention it. Folk around here might start to think I’m getting soft.” He winked, and then resumed his inventorying.
Veni, Vidi, Velcro. (I came, I saw, I stuck around)