nexus_crossings | Ghosts in the Machine

Ghosts in the Machine

There’s a young woman reading through one of the pamphlets in the plaza. She’s dressed head to toe in a rather odd black garment like a padded wetsuit - it looks like it’s all one piece, soft, elastic and form-fitting. Her hair’s a little disheveled and she has a frown of concentration as she reads, but her location doesn’t seem to worry her.

As far as she’s concerned, it’s obvious where she is. The last few weeks have been nothing but tests and interviews and assessment exercises of one form or another. More than a few have taken place using increasingly sophisticated simulation tech. This is just another program, and presumably somewhere above is the AI overseeing her progress.

Still, this is definitely a new one.

“Who comes up with these scenarios?” she wonders aloud in amusement. Then shoots a look at the tiny silver robot floating at a cautious distance. “No offense meant- and that wasn’t my question, sorry.” The Ghost bobs noncommittally, and she looks around, taking in the strange mix of people and aliens, the unrealistic architecture. “So does it matter what I ask?” The answer is murmured quietly, but presumably boils down to ‘no’. She rolls her shoulders and shifts on her feet, making thoughtful sounds for a minute. She really wants to ask something good. Insightful. Practical. Soldierly.

“Is there something around here you really need weapons for?” She had two when she started here - not to mention the ridiculous armor. The assisting ‘Ghost’ AI removed them for her, but that still leaves the question of why this simulation included them...

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Oh.

Hrm. He probably shouldn't have brought that up considering the fact that he was fighting people for money. It doesn't really jive with that good guy image he was trying to project. Doubly so when his opponent was kidnapped and forced to fight him ...

"Well, it is pretty safe most of the time." He begins. "I have to be honest, that wasn't my proudest moment here. I got offered money to fight someone in front of some spectators - more than enough to cover the cost of the parts that I needed for my ship and ..."

He just shakes his head and lets the thoughts trail off. Some of these ideas he has in his head seem a lot better before he has to tell someone else about them out loud.

"You're kidding." She gives him a startled look. "People do that here?" What kind of uncivilized place have you found yourself in, young Venusian? And yet... there's the spark of something intrigued in her eyes as she hesitates over what to ask. Sure, the culture she was raised in may have been strictly fighting-as-a-last-resort, but she wouldn't be on the path she is if she were wholly opposed to violent solutions.

Or if she were opposed to getting paid for violence, for that matter. It's all about the right circumstances.

(Ghost, meanwhile, is rolling his optic because if Bryn is anything like her future counterpart he knows how this subject is going to go down.)

"So... what happened?" She's definitely looking at him differently. Perhaps not in a bad way. Better to leave out the whole kidnapping part though. "I mean- did you win?"

As far as Han has experienced? There are way, way more societies that have some form of combat sport than the number of ones that don't. The touch of embarrassment he feels over participating is largely do the fact that he thinks she'd want to see some remorse in him and the fact that he didn't realize they were gonna kidnap his opponent and chain the two of them together.

Thing is? There's not a lot that he wouldn't do for the right price. Even less if he thought it would help him take care of his ship. Han Solo loves his starship something fierce.

He tilts his head thoughtfully when Bryn asks her questions. He'd expected something like the initial reaction, but not the asking him if he won part ...

"They don't usually do things like that here. I think it took a lot of people by surprise." Understatement there. He can't help but have his lips curl into a smile at the memory of the victory, though. It wasn't a long fight, but damn if it wasn't ferocious. He certainly had to earn the win.

"I did end up winning."

Edited 2016-07-15 16:01 (UTC)

It's a smart tack he's taking. She's playing at her own act, for that matter, trying to balance what she's been taught is the responsible way to respond with... not looking completely new to the rougher side of society. It's not her fault she grew up on the super-intellectual colony.

And then she has to try not to act too interested in all the gory details. They shouldn't matter, after all, she just finds herself oddly curious.

"Hmm." She takes in that smile for a moment, has to remind herself to look away before it turns into a stare. Better watch where you're walking, Bryn. But she glances back a moment later, lightening her tone. "Not too bad for a guy with a broken hand. How is it now?"

Han's lips have likely settled into that self-satisfied look he so often has. Well, it's the look he usually has before things start going to hell on him. That happens far too often for his liking.

Still, you have to take the time to appreciate when things are working out and they have been with Bryn so far.

"Was more the wrist." Han clarifies. He waggles the fingers of his left hand idly and then rolls in a clockwise motion as well as a counter-clockwise motion. "A surgical droid put a plate in it and some screws. Fully healed, but still working on hand drills to regain speed and strength in the joints"

Which is archaic compared to what they can do at home, but he'd have to imagine there's no need for a huge amount of bacta in a place that has an AV field.

Her mouth twists at his description - she's kind of amused by how outdated that treatment sounds but... equally concerned by that. Sticking plates in people. Eesh. Still, his hand does look okay. And he looks satisfied enough with the outcome.

"Huh. That's some... pretty old-school medicine." She probably ought to keep an open mind here. She has no idea what level of tech is the average. And just because it's old doesn't mean it's necessarily ineffective. But probably a little bit crude. "I'm glad it worked, though."

Something about his expression leaves her thoughtful, though - touches on something lurking in the back of her mind. She doesn't take more than a moment to work up to it. "Can I ask you something? I don't know if it's a weird question, but- do you like it? Fighting, I mean. It's, uh... not something that comes up a lot back home."

Yeah. It did the job. The healing's been kind of on the slow side, but this was what he wanted done over magical healing. He's from the school of thought where if something can't be explained and seems too good to be true, then it likely is. He doesn't trust magic.

And while the plates and screws might perhaps be a bit ... invasive, it beats the hell out of having your parts replaced with cybernetic ones. At least this was still his hand and wrist.

"Do I like fighting?" He says again. As if hearing the question again made it somehow easier to answer. It's actually something the Captain has asked himself, on long trips while gazing out into the inky blackness of space and couldn't really come up with a well-defined answer then either.

"I like winning. I don't really think that counts as the same thing. Most times, if it's an option, I'd rather smooth things out with conversation."

That's the best answer he can offer. The most honest one he can think of, too. He's left people to die in places. Put smoking craters into the chests of people threatening him. It all seems like a waste in the end ... when the adrenaline finally wears off.

"Would you ever take a fight for money?"

Bryn nods slowly at his answer, thinking it over. Caring more for the end, not the means. She can get that, depending on said end. She's just looking at the future ahead of her and wondering, just a little, how well she's going to take to it. What it's going to be like...

"I suppose I'm technically doing that already," she remarks in response to his question. "But honestly..." She thinks it over, shakes her head. She's a little conscious of the Ghost's presence right now, unaware that it really isn't concerned about her answer.

"I think I'd need some reason besides the money. Something that mattered. If I knew that money meant my ticket home, say- that might be enough. Of course it'd still depend on who I was fighting. And who was offering."

It's a fine enough answer to Han. He doesn't seem particularly surprised or put off by what she's said, nor would he have any baseline for determining if she's being honest apart from his usual measures. The look in the person's eyes. The sureness of their voice. The likelihood they'd be telling the truth versus lying.

"The devil is in the details." He remarks with a slightly bitter smile. Ain't that always the way? He hopes she's not learned the lesson as hard as he has. Or as often. Since a bulk of her work doesn't come in deals with criminals, he figures not.

Captain Solo starts slowing their walk and guides them to a door. There's a name on the door painted in more than a dozen that says 'The Weary Traveler's Diner'.

Edited 2016-07-18 02:06 (UTC)

People don’t often go out of their way to trick her, and maybe that shows in the way questioning the offer itself is an afterthought to her. Likewise, she’s pretty sure of her conclusions, however much thinking out loud she does along the way. Even at this age she’s a pretty open book.

“I hear that a lot,” she notes, and though her tone is dry there’s a good humor to it that suggests her lessons have been a hell of a lot gentler than his. “But up to now it’s usually been from people complaining about technical write-ups.”

Bryn takes a minute to study the sign outside the door before they go in, as amused as she is unable to resist seeing how many she can recognize. Just a couple, as it turns out. “Hmm. That’s an auspicious name.”

She glances back to see if Ghost appreciates it, but the bot’s ducked right behind her back now, anticipating a room full of unknown quantities. Little guy’s strangely shy for an AI, she think. That just means Han gets her attention instead… after she’s swept a look round the inside of this place. She’s had a few hours to take in the Nexus’s brand of oddity, but the more it sinks in that this is all real the harder it is to look around without her eyes lighting up in interest. Good thing her spatial awareness is up to par: it mostly keeps her from bumping into anyone inside. Including the captain she’s following.

"Try not to stare at ... any of it" He murmurs quietly to her, not knowing how much exposure Bryn's had to kinds of places like this. It's not an insinuation or a comment on her sense of tact. It's said gently. In a way that is empathetic to the possible culture shock.

It's not as if walking into a den of sentients of all different worlds is unfamiliar to Han, though. If anything, there's a swagger in his walk that suggests confidence and a sense of belonging among the very mixed crowd. The gathered is about half human and half not; with only a third of the patrons, at most, native to where Han comes from. Likely one or two from her home as well.

There is also a concerted effort for him to project an image of togetherness between them. Not in an intimate way, but ... that the two humans are looking after each other, which he does by making she stays relatively close to him while the move through the eatery.

The place is mostly full. Which means they don't have much of a choice in terms of tables. Captain Solo being the kind of man that makes friends wherever he goes, picks a table where they can keep an eye on the door.

"...Right." She takes the advice in the spirit intended. It's more than reasonable, after all. Venus is a good place to encounter different kinds of (Earth-originating) human cultures, but even in her day that doesn't compete with scales and tusks and every combination of limb types and count that one might care to name. And she could swear she just caught sight of a guy with a peg-leg. An actual peg-leg-

Okay, forget that, Bryn reminds herself. Don't stare. She focuses on Han instead, and that's not hard to do. Nor is staying close. She can't help but envy his easy confidence, his sense of being right at home in the crowd. She's unafraid of it, finds the culture shock (though very real) an enjoyable sort of challenge. But it's easy to feel this isn't her turf.

She certainly doesn't recognize anyone from her system. Of course, the only ones she could recognize are the humans, and they all blend in pretty well no matter what their universe of origin. The best tell would likely be whether they double-take on seeing the Ghost with her, and at present the little guy's doing a remarkably good job of keeping low and out of sight for a bot of silver and blue light. It's never been subject to unwanted attention here before... but usually it's escorted by a fully-armed Titan.

As soon as they sit it's going to find the safest position from which to observe without being obvious to all and sundry.

Bryn thinks nothing of sliding into the seat opposite Han, heedless of cunning strategies in play. "Is it always this... interesting?" she asks as quietly as the noise allows. Okay, interesting is very subjective. "Although I suppose it's nothing unusual to you, hm?"

To be fair, it's a diner and Han isn't expecting things to be violent. It never hurts to take certain precautions, though. Not in the kind of crowds he so often finds himself in.

There's a small wire rack on the table with a couple of shakers of different seasonings. Recognizably, white table salt and black pepper is in there, along with offerings of many different colors and shapes. Some of them are small granules. Some look more like small, dried herbs. Some like seeds. Tucked behind them all are a few simple laminated menus. Han will offer one to Bryn before grabbing one for himself.

As her eyes drift over it, she'll see that the menu is not particularly expansive. There's about 15 offerings on the front and back, but a lot of words nonetheless. Like the door, several languages are recognizable on the card.

"One of the servers usually comes by after a couple of minutes." He murmurs. "You gonna have something other than water?"

Examining the seasonings more closely will have to wait: Bryn murmurs her thanks to Han while she scours the menu for familiar and alien items alike. Good thing the English descriptions (though the language is old-fashioned by her standards) are helpful enough to give a fair idea of what even the stranger options are.

"You never just drink the water, right? I'll see what's closest to a lager around here and have that." Bryn's guessing it won't be overly familiar. So much the better, as long as it's drinkable and about as strong as she expects.

"Okay," she decides after a minute. "About half of these I know are safe, and the rest I'm willing to take a chance on. Anything I should definitely know not to pick? I don't want Ghost having the surges if I get it wrong." Look, you act weirdly overprotective and you're going to get teased about it, little bot.

The seasonings will wait, continuing to be there. All seasoningly. Likely they'll not even be given a second thought until the food comes out, but it's as if that's a huge slight. It's their lot in life.

"You could just have water, but that seems like a waste of a good opportunity to have something new." And that's what he seems to like best about Bryn's personality, that spirit of adventure. Han still got something of a kick seeing things he hadn't been exposed to before, but somewhere in the last couple of years he started to get cynical and galaxy weary, he supposed.

She is more like he was in his early twenties.

"Okay, far as the beers that they have here to avoid; Dressellian beer is cheaply made and the smell will put you off. Phibian lagers are okay, but they're nothing special either. Bland. Same goes for Synthale. Gamorrean beer? Too strong for humans, stay away from it."

He kinda rifles through that part pretty quickly. But, one drink needs to be highlighted for better or for worse. "Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster's are about the most unique drink on the menu, but they're almost too strange. If you order one, sip it because it will hit you all at once." If Bryn cares to further examine that drink she will find the following discription on the menu. 'Its effects are similar to having your brains smashed in by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick.'

So far, at least, Han’s living up to his claims of expertise. At least in Bryn’s eyes, though she makes an absent-minded note to herself that she doesn’t exactly know enough to tell if he’s making things up as he goes. But why not trust him? It’s not like Ghost is going to have any advice to offer.

Or… so she assumed prematurely. As soon as her gaze darts down to study that Gargle Blaster description, the bot’s hovering closer by her shoulder. “I suggest you don’t.” Before she can roll her eyes and point out that she hadn’t necessarily intended to order it, he ~~digs deeper~~ goes on, “We need you awake and… um, functional afterwards.”

And at that point she gives the bot a look. Her mouth’s curled slightly, but there’s a challenging light in her eyes. “And you assume I wouldn’t be, hm?”

There’s just enough time for the Ghost to realize what it’s done and visibly panic before she turns back to Han, smiling again, though not with the easy cheerfulness of before. This is the smile of a challenge accepted. “That’s settled, then. Why go somewhere new if you’re going to skip out on the fun parts?”

Bryn's probably wise to question the level of Han's expertise and the amount of shit that he might be spewing at any given moment. The fact is he tends to know far more about alcohol than any man ought to. Something that should be more concerning to himself, at least, but isn't it so very human to turn a blind eye to things we don't want to notice ...

One of the things he does notice is the way the human woman want to do exactly what that little bot tells her she can't and that, makes the Corellian smile enough so that it touches his eyes. There are plenty of things that satisfy Han, but nothing so thoroughly as proving someone wrong.

Though he's gonna hold back on slipping the detail that you really can't have two of those drinks, because he doesn't want to accidently goad her into that challenge as well.

One of the servers comes along, a sentient non-human from his galaxy as a matter of fact. The green skinned woman with tiny little antenne addresses Han in the tongue native to her people, Rodese. The mystical powers of the multiverse will translate for Bryn after a moment or two, but it's clear that Han is answering ahead of the translating. He knows the language, clearly, but he answers in their server in that same Basic that he's been speaking to his the future guardian all along.

"What will the gentlehumans have to drink?" The words of this sentient come out of a long green snout.

"We're feeling bold at this table. Can you bring us two Gargleblasters, please?"

Large, round black eyes with no lids regard Han and then drift over to Bryn. She seems to be weighing exactly how likely it is that these two know what they're getting into and ultimately deciding she doesn't really care.

"As you like." She says with a nod. "I'll be back soon."

It’s not that she particularly wants to spite Ghost. She’s just tired of the perceived nannying she’s been getting. Yes, she’s a raw recruit, but she’s far from fragile and maybe her new AI friend needs a few object lessons regarding that. Besides, Han looks like he approves. Despite her outward confidence, she’s kind of glad the captain’s willing to join her in whatever she just signed herself up for.

Ghost… well, he’s telling himself that if she dies, he can probably bring her back.

The server gets a slightly gentler version of the same smile, and a curious look that’s kept brief because of Han’s advice and his clear familiarity with the other language catching her attention. Bryn tilts her head a little, parsing the alien phonetics as best she can.

“Guess we’ll be boldly doomed together,” she remarks cheerfully once the server moves away. Which just leaves the food order. At this point she might as well order the strangest edible meal for good measure, but anything with meat that isn’t vat-grown will be strange enough by itself. Maybe the wrong kind of weird, actually, so… “How’re the Rodian peppers?”

Rodese is a language that's hard for a human to speak with all the nuances that a Rodain can. Which is why Han rarely bothers to try if they can understand Basic. You can end up getting accused of bastardizing the language pretty easily. Having said that, Solo happens to think that the language sounds nicer coming from the human tongue. It has lots of cooing.

"Not bad if they're cooked, right." Though that could be said about anything, come to think of it. "They're really fibrous and dense so you have to roast them for a long time to make them palatable."

"Do you not eat meat, Bryn?"

"I do," she assures him, though her gaze drops a little sheepishly at the admission that follows. "It's just we don't have a lot of meat on my planet that isn't, you know, grown. I've had the other kind sometimes and it's fine, but it just tastes weird to me. And so far it seems like the Nexus uses actual livestock, so..."

There's also the part where you have to cut old-style meat off formerly living animals, which has to be at least a little messed up even if she's not going to say so.

He tries not to make a face at her explanation of grown meat. He really, really tries, but he can't help but make a little bit of one. Yes, on the one hand, it does seem kinder. That's plenty enough of a reason for some not to eat meat.

It's just that all the food they tend to manufacture where he comes from taste terrible. Synthstake. Protein cubes. Nutri-paste. Grayweave. It was all bad.

"I prefer a Stickli root stew." He says, when he gets over his disdain of synthesized meat to answer. "I end up purchasing that a lot when I'm stocking up my ship."

"I swear it's not that bad." She has to laugh at that face. Can't help it, isn't trying anyway. And Ghost perks up because it almost sounds right, could almost be Blaze if you added a little synthetic overlay. There's no mockery in it, nothing stifled or held in check.

"I have to admit, we don't do stew very often. Not in our part of the system. What kind of root are we- actually, you know what? It's more fun to go in blind."

"If the two of us ever end up on ... did you say Venus was where you were from? I'll let you buy me dinner and prove it to me."

When he's not trying to be stonefaced? Han's looks can be pretty funny. That she's receiving it in good humor he takes as a positive sign. Really, it's kinda nice to hear her laugh. It's got this oddly familiar ring to it that makes him feel like he's heard it before, but then ... he's been in so many bars, restaurants, bustling spaceports and black markets, he could have heard a laugh like hers in plenty of places.

It does make him feel like he's catching up with an old friend, though. A feeling that's kind of nice, truth be told.

"Alright, the Stickly Root stew then." He says with a nod. "Oh, and bread. There's gotta be bread."

Edited 2016-07-29 00:47 (UTC)

"Deal." It's a sincere promise, regardless of the jest involved. Besides, the idea just pleases her. It would be nice to get to show him how they have fun on her homeworld, whatever the odds against it happening.

"Aye, captain. If you say so." Good humor means he gets some friendly teasing, too. "After all, half the reason I'm here is for your recommendations." Maybe less than half. But who's counting? It's an acceptably logical justification for sticking with someone she likes on grounds that aren't entirely logical.

Plus, it saves them debating too long over what to pick, and that's always a bonus. Don't want to keep the nice green lady hovering whenever she returns.

Speaking of, the green Rodian server returns with their alcoholic beverages. One of each exotic cocktail is placed in front of each of them, fizzling and frothing in ornate glasses and adorned with the very necessary green olive garnish.

Han thanks the server and places the order he and his company agreed upon. Bryn may notice, if she's not having too much fun inspecting the drink, that Captain Solo seemed to called the waitress a petname. 'Honey', of all things, which seemed to make those huge, dark relatively unexpressive eyes darken a little bit more.

Then again, it might have just been the light in there. It is kind of dim.

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"Bounty accepted." "what."

*Han takes a mental note**Writer pleased with self for sneaking in a drink from Hitchhiker's Guide*

any excuse to go reread HHGTG is a bonus!

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tagging from a tablet, will tag with Octodad as soon as I can remember his password <_<

No rush, as always. *Is also tagging from a tablet tonight.*

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No rush, as always. Is also tagging from a tablet tonight.