[color=C0C0C0]
From the walk back, to the taxi ride, Aellyn  didn’t say much else and neither did Mal. Her mind wandered on a thousand different things. It was the mission itself, how were they going to pull it off. They were lucky last time.  So many factors, so many things could go wrong. Her head turned to the woman beside her, all Mal wanted was to help then she be on her way. Don’t blame her, hell, that was what [i]she[/i] wanted until she saw a different path. A path that led to better life, a life with him, far away from the Empire. The taxi stopped, letting the two women out as she dumped a few credits to pay. Sticking her hands in her coat pocket, her path focused towards the UA. They didn’t want to get sidetracked, not now. [color=AE91B8] “ If you don’t want to bunk with the others, you can take the top bunk in mine. It’s probably cleaner and cozier than in between the shield panels.” [/color] Aellyn looked toward Mal as she spoke. She wondered when the last decent bed she had slept in was. Approaching the UA, she hit the panel button to lower the ramp, taking the first steps up to the common area. 

Getting to the landing she looked over, seeing the Pilot making himself at home, feet up where they ate, etc. [color=AE91B8] “I hope you clean the table off before we eat next.” [/color] Aellyn perked her eyebrow, knowing that will most likely irritate him.

Fel was nothing if not an easy mark, on an emotional level. (When you spent your entire life burying emotions, responding to them in any way was always a pitfall.) The problem was, the emotions reminded you that you’re still alive. Still capable of feeling. Became as addictive as Spice, when life in the Black forced you to bury those feelings deep down in the name of survival. But in non-life-threatening moments like this, sometimes it was all too easy to give in. Galdaart was emotionally youthful, naive, feeding on base emotions like they were the nectar of life. And worst of all, after the moment passed, he always knew it had been stupid. A rash, non-productive use of time, which never felt good after the fact. But gods-damn-it, Aellyn pushed his buttons so easily. Imperial training, a partial lifetime spent doing exactly that for the good of the ‘Empire.’ All of this ran through Fel’s head, even as the anger, immediate, simmering, exactly the prescribed response she expected – bubbled under the surface. 

[color=F7941D]“I’ll be sure to get the maid to run the vacuum around and wave a feather duster at the ugly bits.”[/color] It burned him that she looked down on his home, the ship that had bested many an Imperial TIE, had successfully escaped a dozen times from a dozen near-death scrapes. She deserved more respect than Aellyn was capable of seeing. All she saw was the rust, the wear, the age, the dull paint. 

[color=AE91B8] “Don’t be mad…but Mal, here…” [/color] She pointed back toward the girl the pilot had sent off a few hours ago. [color=AE91B8] “She stalked me and we had a nice little chat.  Good news…she agreed to come along on our little heist. I’ll get her settled...” [/color] 

Oddly, Fel wouldn’t have cared if Aellyn had said the same about his shabby clothes, the scars on his arms and back… he’d own those as badges of time and experience. But it really rattled him that she thought less of his ship. Still, it was good news that Mal was aboard for the heist. When Aellyn mentioned it, Fel smiled a little, knowingly nodded. [color=F7941D]“I thought that might be the case…”[/color] 

Turning toward Mal, pointing out the washroom, then right across was her assigned room. Aellyn looked back at Fel, curious if he had anything to say, otherwise, she had a crate to organize.

He considered adding more wordstuff, some witty jibe about welcoming her aboard (again) or cracking wise about how it’s actually pretty spacious, once you exit the ceiling… but left it alone, letting Aellyn do her thing. 

Eryn let her reverse ‘hey’ nod to Fel do the talking as they passed him. They were on-mission now, and the faster she got this done, the sooner she’d be gone, which is what they all wanted anyway, right? Herself included. She didn’t need friends. Friends were a liability and a distraction. She needed opportunity and credits, and if she was being honest, things really had played out in her favor for once. As long as she kept her distance from this crew, hopefully they’d continue playing out the same way.

She shadowed Aellyn in silence during the short tour, watching the woman with equal parts suspicion and curiosity as she offered to let the stowaway bunk with her. Eryn had zero plans to do so, but the proposition left her a bit…warmer? It was what people would call a ‘nice’ gesture by the redhead, and in Eryn’s experience, those never came without ulterior motives, but… she flexed a muscle in her soul she hadn’t bothered to use in a very long time, and found the woman’s efforts to be genuine. 
Huh. Not something she was used to encountering.

The crate loomed ahead. Eryn peeled off her fingerless gloves and began wiping her hands on her pants, which did the opposite of cleaning them off. Grime streaked even darker down her fingers. She stood there for a minute, looking around for something to use as a towel, but no luck. [color=00a99d]“I’ll just-..”[/color] she hiked her thumb over her shoulder and backtracked into the hallway once more. [color=00a99d]“Be right back,”[/color] she called to Aellyn as she slunk towards the ‘fresher with every intention of just washing her hands.

Aellyn observed, watching the girl walk across to the refresh room. Taking a seat on the edge of the lower bunk, she pulled the crate over, pressing a few switches on the side panel, the top hissed open. 

Catching sight of herself in the small mirror as she scrubbed her hands, Eryn stared. She didn’t recognize herself. Awesome. The months of dirt, sweat, blood and grease coating most of her face, body and hair was doing its job, keeping her hidden, keeping her safe. She was almost sad to watch it go as she wiped at her nose and cheeks, but she knew that wasn’t enough. It was time to shed her dirt-suit. Can’t be a convincing ‘face’ otherwise. 

Twenty minutes later, Eryn was back at the crate, skin scrubbed, hair shiny, clothing actually back to its original colors. [color=00a99d]“I probably need at least one more shower,”[/color] she admitted, [color=00a99d]“but this’ll do for now. Let’s see what’s in the box.”[/color]

Alleyn had already made herself at home in the twenty minutes that Eryn was cleaning up. The crate was open, several evening gowns were hanging either on the wall opposite the bed or laid out on the bed next to her. As the girl entered, she smiled, turning her attention back to Mal, who had taken interest in the crate. [color=AE91B8] “ I pulled out the clothes. Probably will need some tailoring but that should at least keep us occupied until we get there.” [/color] Whatever else was left was personal effects, things that Devin knew she liked and tucked away. He always did small things like that, to keep her grounded of home. 

Eryn took one look at the assortment of flashy gowns and genuinely considered walking right back down the ramp. Mostly because it’s harder to stay unnoticed in outfits like that, and ‘noticed’ wasn’t something she went out of her way to be labeled, but also because none of the options looked like they’d let her hide any weapons. Too many slits here, backless sparkly nonsense there, necklines that dropped faster than rocks in heavy grav. She bent, scrabbling through the bottom of the crate looking for something darker with more coverage, plucking this and that out of her way and tossing it aside. [color=00a99d] “Seven hells, where did you GET all this?” [/color]she asked, her fingers finding a collection of items that had nothing to do with clothes. Were those…old pictures?? A small tin of something rattled around below as she grabbed one of the photos tucked between a semi sheer beaded shawl and a very sparkly high heel. 

Huh. 

Eryn stared at the picture for a moment before a small, jeering smirk twisted the corner of her mouth.[color=00a99d] “And where did you get HIM?,”[/color] she said, flipping the photo of the attractive man around between her fingers and holding it up for Aellyn to see. [color=00a99d] “Cute. Looks like trouble. He comin’ along?”[/color]

Aellyn lunged toward the girl and in a quick motion,  grabbed the tin and the photograph. [color=AE91B8] “Touch anything else in this crate that isn’t clothes, I will shoot you before you even think about stabbing me with those knives of yours..” [/color] Then she sighed, regretting her words. Her eyes staring down at the picture. That was not how he would have handled it. [color=AE91B8] “No, he is not coming along.” [/color] The pain in her voice as she tucked the picture back into the tin and stuffing it underneath her pillow. [color=AE91B8] “He got all of this for me..and he is the furthest thing from trouble. So don’t go messing anything up.” [/color]

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