Log:Heliost Crew: Daddy's Girl
Mollie and Alysia have a chat in hyperspace
OOC Date: June 7 2022
Location: Heliost
Participants: Amallia Madine, Alysia Ballard
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The cockpit of the Heliost is probably the cleanest part of the ship. Mollie is not usually known for her attention to detail or tidiness, and that's evidenced in the shared spaces and general organization of the cargo hold. The cockpit, however, is something else entirely. It is... pristine. Spotless. Everything has a purpose and a place, and the things left by folks that do not fit within it have a place as well. A plastic bin tucked in the far corner, clearly labeled 'take your drek'. It smells fresh, too. A mixture of cleaning solvents and a little Corellian air freshener that reminds her of her mom and dad. Or, at least, of being a little kid.
A little bump can be felt in the cabin, which causes Mollie to look up from her datapad and squint out the still-open viewport in front of them. The ship's being loaded. Some urban-decay sprawl that can't say it's far rim but can't say it's core worlds either. The flyover planets.
She leans forward and bops the intercom to the contracted workers currently loading up.
<<"Eeeeeeassssayyyyyy on the inside, boys. You gotta treat her gingerly,">> she protests.
<<"Right, uh, sorry ma'am.">>
Mollie rolls her eyes and looks sideways to the little Sephi sitting beside her. Probably being cute as a button, but who knows what she's up to most of the time. "Animals," she says with a half smile.
[ Alysia Ballard (al)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"It's only crates of stimulant pollen. If that spills out and gets into the ventilation, we'll be sneezing for weeks, non-stop." The Sephi comments, pinching her nose and looking over at the Captain with mock worry that some how comes across comically. "I like it when canines sneeze a bunch, but not when I do. I have an ugly sneeze. The kind that everyone in the room hears over the noise of chatter, you know?" Talking about it made Alysia want to sneeze, but pinching her nose prevented it, for now.
"What's the worst thing you've ever spilled?" She asks of Mollie. Alysia is small enough she can sit like a pretzel in the co-pilot seat, her hands on the ankles of her tall boots.
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Oh, is that it? I s'pose that wouldn't be so bad. They say a sneeze is a fraction of… well, you know? Reckon if we do it enough times in a row, we'll all be feeling a bit more fulfilled," Mollie says. She swivels lazily in her chair, turning to look at a few of the readouts and pre-flight checks that she's already checked-and-double-checked neurotically. Ship shape, as usual. Well, mostly. There's always a little bit of something wrong on this ship.
"I don't believe that anything you do is ugly. You're like one of those girls they put on the billboards on Nar Shaddaa, only... more clothes. Usually," Mollie says. She's got a little stylus that she uses to hand-write notes and ledgers. A pencil-like thing that she draws doodles on her datapad with too. She's currently tapping it against her chin and lips, and when the Sephi asks her that question, Mollie laughs and tips her head to think about it.
"In the Navy, I once knocked over a crate of unrefined hyperfuel. Whole thing just," she holds both hands up in a pantomime of a box and tips it sideways, "Fell. Saw my whole life flash before my eyes, I did. Had to talk to -several- superior officers who were none too pleased with me. One even thought I was a First Order spy. Bit of a shavit operation that would be."
She laughs, and then swivels back, knees pointed to Alysia and a wry smile on her face.
"What about you? Y'don't seem the type for a kark-up. Least not one quite so royal."
[ Alysia Ballard (al)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Well, those, no matter how good, never leave your nose all.. ieyuck." Alysia gestures comically with her hand. "I think I'd much prefer satisfaction to a sneeze. I just can't imagine four hundred sneezes leaving me fulfilled." Her hand moves back, curling her blonde from where it hangs about her face to be tucked behind one of her knife-ears! A communication from below heralds the sudden shutting of the cargo bay, this is signified by a red light going green. <<"All loaded up, ladies. Safe trip.">>
The sephi triggers the comm, speaking into the mic with a grin. <<"Take care, fellas.">> From the co-pilot seat, Alysia begins to trigger several of the subsystems to come online, but she yields total control of the ship to the captain. Her presence is simply to make the process of takeoff smoother and more streamlined.
"My shortfalls were kind of bad. One time I left the cargo bay open and when we left the station, everything got vented to space. So we spent the next six hours cargo-scooping it back up. My daddy was /pissed/. I got /really/ good at scooping cargo though!" Alysia grinned innocently.
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Like the cockpit itself, Amallia Madine becomes someone else when she's flying. There's something strangely... professional about it. Something oddly clean and precise. Routine pre-flight checks are run through in a practiced, methodical, precise order. When it finally comes time to taxi and takeoff, it's a serious affair. She guides the ship out of the loading hangar, into atmosphere, and then into deep space before initiating the hyperjump. Again, another set of checks before the throttle is punched forward and the pair is propelled into faster than light travel.
It's something so incredible that feels strangely routine.
Once in Hyper, the ship's cabin is in statis power through a separate discrete and redundant generator. Dimly-lit by readout panels and a small blue light above.
"Four hundred sneezes. I d'no. Sounds kinda nice. Think I like sneezing. Is that a bit odd?" Mollie says sideways to the Sephi.
The story about the ship leaving orbit and the cargo being ejected into space makes Mollie's skin crawl. Most notably because a cabin depressurization would likely result in, well. POTENTIAL loss of human life. "Ah yeah, that is bad. Scooping up cargo in orbit is the worst. Insult to injury, and the like," Mollie says. She leans back and, finally, kicks her feet up. Most notably, she kicks her feet up on a spot of the dash that has been designated as 'ok for boots'.
"What was your dad like? He sounds like a good man."
[ Alysia Ballard (al)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"My dad was.. everything my mom was not. Adventurous, charming, mean when he needed to be, and loving. I think he was lonely, too. When he left my mom, he never.. you know. It was like he only had a heart for her. I think.. I reminded him of her, but the good parts he liked. Hahaha! He.. lived happily till the end, not even illness could make him frown." Alysia's eyes water a bit as she turns her attention toward the hyperlane. The chiaroscuro of the cockpit left the sephi partially beneath the influence of light and another part in shadow; it was oddly apropos. A deep breath, and it seemed like Alysia had pushed back the emotions and settled back on her seat, still cross-legged.
"I don't seem like a smuggler, but it's what he did. Dad said, 'sometimes, doing the right thing means breaking a few rules.' I believe that."
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"It's alright to miss him, you know," Mollie says after a moment or two of silence. It's inspired by that deep breath and the expression on the Sephi's face. Mollie knows that look when she sees it. Her words are spoken softly, though. Encouraging and kind, not with condescension or judgement. "Both my parents are still alive, you know. Lucky, I guess. Makes me feel a bit guilty I don't call them much. If ever," she says.
She reaches up to pull on a lever up above. It takes a significant amount of weight to pull it down, and Alysia can see the pilot's abdominal muscles flex beneath her cropped top as she pulls it down. Mollie is past flat -- she's toned through that stomach. Bumps and ridges and lines that lead down and disappear beneath those high-waisted jeans.
"Smugglin' just means gettin' things to people who need them when folks don't want 'em to have it. It's like anythin' in this galaxy, I suppose. It can do good, or it can do bad. It's on us to make that call, I think," Mollie says. That 'chunk' sound reverberates through the hold, and a few of the non-essential subsystems flicker off. A bit of fuel-saving to widen the margins as much as she can.
"Your dad sounds grand, you know. And it sounds like he loved you. And your mum. Raised a good daughter, too," she says. Mollie's face softens a little. She doesn't always articulate herself well, but it's obvious she cares deeply for the people around her. Even Alysia, a relative stranger, can likely feel it. "Kind, and stuff. S'pose that's all a parent can really hope for. I'm sorry you're missing him."
[ Alysia Ballard (al)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Alysia watches the Captain as she works, even the idle tendencies and practices bleed into the functionality of the ship. It's the measure of a true Captain, one that can hear the purrs of their ship and know what lever to move or button to press to make it operate the way it's supposed to. In this way, the Captain's personality gives the ship one, too. The flexing effort Mollie exerts on the lever is not lost on Alysia, nor are the words, even though Alysia's initial response is quiet.
"Do not let my mother hear you say so. She will take all the credit, even for what my daddy was responsible for instilling. She is like a sponge, soaking in all the praise, and attention, and recognition.. but unlike a sponge, when you squeeze her, nothing comes back out in reciprocation." Alysia sighs a bit, exasperated with her mother. "To her, I was an object intended to draw our Lord's favor. The King likes pretty things, and often employs such to do stately affairs. 'Only our best 'looking' shall represent our interests.'" Her mock voice of the king elicits a nervous look about the cabin, then a withdraw, "Sorry. Clearly, my mother is.." She trails off, waving it away.
"Thanks," for Mollie's acknowledging of Alysia's grieving. "I would speak more about it, but.. I need progress in my life. To move forward, to feel good things, to be active.. and sometimes memories can just.. drag you back into the dark and shadows and make you want to waste away there, you know?"
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Amallia Madine's eyes are squarely on Alysia now. No more distractions. No more idle gestures or last minute checks. She listens to Alysia speak about her mother, a small scowl of dissatisfaction on her face and an encouraging roll of her eyes during the worst of it. "If I ever see her, I'll sort her out," Mollie says. There's a very real anger that flickers briefly across her face and, in all likelihood, she means those words. At least in this moment.
"Don't mention it. I understand completely. Feels good t'pull yourself up when you're down in the pit of it. Just know I'm here for you if you want to talk. We might not seem it, but..." Mollie's eyes flick away, as if recognizing that she's being cheesy. There's a bit of embarrassment on her face.
"We're family here. Dysfunctional an' everything."
A loud -crack- resounds as the ship drops out of hyperspace, and Mollie seems grateful that the space travel gods have shown her mercy this day.
"Ah, there we are! Beautiful Nar Shaddaa. The jewel of the Hutt Empire. D'you reckon we'll ever get tired of marveling in its majesty?"
[ Alysia Ballard (al)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"I am certain you would." The sephi responds, her lower lip bitten lightly before segueing to a pretty grin. "Thankfully, she is in the expanse region of space, where no one ever goes. She can stay there, and we can stay here, and that will be okay." Alysia nods cutely.
Turning her attention to the view port as Captain Mollie explains the crew, and its familial setting, earns another nod and an appreciative tone when she says, "I am grateful you permitted me to join. I am not so certain I would have wanted to do much else, so it's nice to.. be a part of something again."
They emerge from hyper space, and this time it's Alysia's turn to reach for that lever above. She grunts cutely, flipping it back with a hard yank, having to use both hands and her meager body weight to do so. She was no military pilot, that much was certain.
Power returns to systems with a high-pitched whine following the hollow THUNK noise the switch made. The sephi settles back into her seat, running her hand along a row of switches to include their shields, a precaution when flying in a pirate heavy system. "Its majesty?" She scoffs. "I think I can smell that moon from here. -- On your go, Captain.." Alysia says, saying subsystems were ready for the strain of sub-light engines to be pushed to max on their approach.
[ Amallia Madine (Mollie)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Mollie inhales deeply through her nose at the comment of smelling Nar Shaddaa. "A pleasant buzz within the nostrils. Reminds me of a tart little salad I used to sneak at lunches at the academy. Could eat that salad all day. Could eat that salad right now," she declares. Her hands reach forward and flip a few toggles. A safety-release is switched into place and the throttle is changed from Hyperdrive to Sublight. She punches it forward shortly after the 'on your go, Captain', and the ships thrusters ignite to propel it forward.
"I'm serious about your mum, though. If you need me to clock her, just say the word. I know several people who've gone their whole lives without being punched, and that's a right shame really."
The Heliost rockets forward towards the pale yellow moon of Nar Shaddaa. Beneath it, the green and almost glowing surface of Nal Hutta looms oppressively as a backdrop of Nar Shaddaa. An ever-present reminder that, while the Smuggler's Moon itself may welcome those with credits of all race, species, and creed, that this moon belongs to the Hutts. The rest are all visitors.
