- Joined
- Apr 14, 2017
- Messages
- 252
- Reaction score
- 283
Where the hell was he?
Athir sat on a beat-up chair on the isolated and uninhabited stretch of beach. The Otho, his freighter, was like a dead husk sitting about 30 meters or so away from him. The zabrak eyed it over his shoulder for a moment, noting the multiple black spots and holes in it that had been made by copious blaster fire. She might not have been the most glamorous thing in the galaxy, but she sure knew how to take a beating. Still, that didn't exactly help much when it ultimately had crashed down on some unknown spit of a planet on the edge of the Unkown Regions. Athir scoffed, he scoffed at the sorry state of his ship, he scoffed at the fact that he had been shot down by damned pirates of all things, he scoffed at the fact that the distress beacon he currently had signaling for help would probably never reach anyone in the disrupted Unkown Regions, and perhaps most importantly of all: he scoffed at himself for being a piss poor smuggler.
The red skinned zabrak closed his eyes in contemplation, taking a sip of his last good bottle of vintage whiskey as he looked back at the gentle rolling waves lapping at his bare feet. It was beautiful here, wherever here was. The white clouds seemed like benevolent puffs lazily floating along, the blue sky was the must crystal clear and relaxing thing he had even seen, and the sound of the water rhythmically breaking against the sandy shore almost put him into a lull. If he weren't stranded and possibly stuck here, he would have made a mental note to come back one day, maybe chart out this place on some star chart, who knows. "No, no, no, can't be thinking like that. There's a good sign of needing more whiskey" he said to himself as he sat on the sunny beach.
The modestly sized distress beacon was placed into the sand next to him, it was spherical in shape, with flashing orange lights that were indicators of it transmitting an S.O.S signal in every direction as far as possible. Athir didn't know if anyone would pick it up, he had isolated the pirates who shot him down and their communications frequency, thus excluding them from the signal, but besides them he wasn't sure anyone else might be looking for him. His engines were toast, his hull was badly damaged, his hyperdrive was in a sorry state but not broken, and his protocol droid kept insisting the best thing to do was to make Tea- all in all, it wasn't looking hot for him right now. There was nothing he could do, he was stranded, maybe for the rest of his life. Realizing this, the zabrak stood up from his chair and screamed at the ocean, throwing his half-full bottle of whiskey as far as he could into the sea.
He cursed the lot of it: he cursed his sorry situation, he cursed his damned brother for writing him out of the family will and buisness, he cursed the Republic and Sith and their incessant fighting, he just cursed the lot of it as he threw a tantrum on the otherwise peaceful beach. His red skin felt burning hot as blood pumped through it in frustration and rage, all of his quick thinking and persuasion couldn't save him now. Suddenly feeling more defeated than angry, the man slumped back down into his chair and closed his eyes in thought. What could he do? What should he do? Athir thought back to what his father might tell him, that whenever he was stumped, the best thing was to simply breath and let his mind go blank, focus on one thing and let the world around you turn to white noise.
The smuggler sighed, the memories of his late father making him feel somewhat melancholy, yet he tried to the method nonetheless. The zabrak closed his eyes and sat back in his chair. The sun felt like a warm blanket as he slowly felt it envelop him. His troubled mind began to feel soothed by the sound of the waves gently breaking on the sand, easing tension throughout his body. The gentle rustling of the palm trees behind him seemed to fade away as he let his mind wander for a while. He could feel it all at once, the water, the wind, the warm sunshine, it felt like a cocoon almost the more that he let himself relax. He could feel it again, that feeling he had felt so much throughout his life since his father had died- that feeling of lightness, like the slightest brush of wind would send him flying throughout the sky, like he could feel something more than just the white noise of his surroundings. It felt almost like he had slipped into the background of a never ending painting that stretched on forever, like the sound of the water gently breaking and enveloping his sandy feet tied him to something bigger than this scene, than this planet, than his entire sector. He couldn't explain it, he never could, it was a feeling that seemed to creep up on him out of nowhere in the unlikeliest of places. Until now, he had never been able to call it at will, it was a joyous feeling almost, something that for once he didn't think he could buy with credits or money. That feeling of warmth, of something bigger, of his mind flying through the bright blue sky, of the cool water soothing his mind...
That feeling that there was someone, or something, out there calling his name. Something that was looking for him, and Athir was in turn looking for.
Something just over the horizon.
@Valen Pelora