Somethings Fishy

[Chairdor]

Hiro walked alone. He often did, in fact as long as his memory stretched he'd never had a companion longer than a day or more. Short and objective. That would basically sum up his relationships. Though he had little history of his relationships to go on so that might have always been the case. Still while he had few lasting bonds of travel, he always had his lady, that one familiar face he could find on every road on every world from outer rim to inner core. The Cantina.

This particular spot was called "The Hungry Gungan" a fitting named for a bar on the Naboo waterfront. It seemed to cater more toward the interest of local fishermen, enthusiasts who liked to do their fishing the old fashioned way for sport. A tedious process compounded by the fact that they competed with high tech harvesting machines above and Gungan swimmers below. Still the lot didn't seem to do it for sustenance so much as to let the time pass by with a smile on their face. Hiro saw the gathering was mostly the very old and storied and the young and joyful with little in between.

Hiro thought it was odd, the human life cycle. As it stood there were some humans who when born had a small gap of leisurely existence to learn and grow, then they worked until they died. Then there was the rare lot that never had to work and thus never did, living off the accounts and accomplishments of their elders. Finally there was the common and strangest usage of time. The front of life was used to learn and grow as much as possible, the middle to work constantly often not using the knowledge one acquired, and the end to think on their life, to figure out if it was worth it, then to die without doing anything about it. Truly the droid was glad he was not organic, he had trouble now figuring out what to do with himself, he couldn't imagine having a deadline to choose.

As he sat and ordered his usual, he was suprised to see a bottle of fish oil come down in place of the vegetable or occasional speeder oil. He took a drink and found it to be quite pleasant if not slightly sticky. Still it had a local charm to it. As he sat back he looked to the tender who served him, a bearded man with a large gut and red cheeks that denoted a long history of wide grins like the one he wore now, tipping his hat to the tender he flicked a credit his way before asking,

"You know any neat stories bout here parts?"

The man grabbed the chip then put it on his chin as he thought for a moment before saying,

"Welp there was that trouble with the Gungans while back, nasty business with the Rakghoul plague, but let me think a somethin happier...ah I got it!" with that he walked to the back leaving the droid bewildered and somewhat excited to find out what 'it' was

 

[Ace of Hearts]

Another year, another bottle. That's how it often seemed to go. Atlas was not a drinker. She had better things to do than spend her salary on booze. But she did splurge at times. A shot here, a glass there. But when that day rolled around each year she would always end up in some hole in the wall drowning her demons in whiskey.

So it was that time of year again. This year's chosen bar was The Hungry Gungan on her home world. She had been haunting The Gungan for the past week, and her showing up after work had become expected. She knew why. She knew after a certain amount of alcohol her mouth would start running and she'd tell all. She also knew how dangerous that was.

Atlas had been sitting at the bar for a while now. She had no idea how long "a while" was. In bars, the minutes run together with the drinks and the stories. She would buy a bottle and start pouring the glasses. After about five, her hand would start shaking and there would end up just as much booze on the bar as in the glass. The bartender would come over to her secluded seat and clean it up. No matter how sloshed she was by closing she'd leave him a nice tip. Bartenders were some of the best people out there; they never asked questions. So when she disappeared in a couple days he'd think nothing of it.

She was pouring herself another glass. Already she could tell she'd start running her mouth if anyone came over. To her chagrin the bartender walked over to her with a purpose. "Miss, you up for some company?"

She took another gulp and just nodded. The bartender, whatever his name was, had found her story out the first night, when the poor guy found himself a half-willing listener. When she showed up the second night he started directing people her way. She didn't understand why her sob story interested people. She chalked it up to the fact fisherman were just odd folk, and half of them thought it some tall tale anyway. She didn't bother trying to correct them.

 

[Chairdor]

As Hiro awaited the tender he looked out once again and noticed a small music box in the corner. Walking to it he saw it was quite antiquated in it's selection and noting the cobwebs had long fallen into disuse. Noting it's exterior Hiro might have thought it broken, but was quite surprised when the screen flickered to life at his touch. Looking though the varying choices all noted by clacks on the keyboard, the droid noted the key most worn indicating previous popularity and flicked it. It buzzed slightly then indicated it required payment so the droid, slightly heavier than usual with credits, swiftly relented a single credit. The music box clicked once more as an information disc inside slowly began to turn. As the music began Hiro noted a sudden brightening among the staff and guests as they appeared to recognize the tune.

Moving back to his seat the bartender seemed to have a grin of sad nostalgia on his face, he simply gave a slight nod of his head and Hiro looking to where it pointed noted a woman with a full glass and a sad face sitting off alone. Recalling his previous conversation with the man he figured this was 'it' and kept walking past his bar stool to take a new seat by the woman.

The droid was always fascinated by storytelling, it was so unlike conversations with droids which were more often than not to the point and functional. Stories were either themselves simply meant for entertainment, or as an interesting twist, were functional in themselves in a sort of back port symbolic way so as to give larger lessons than seem pitiable and shallow in depth when merely said straight. In any case Hiro noted the young woman seemed adrift, sailing on a sea of alcohol and bad times so he began with a simple introduction,

"Evenin miss, names Hiro...I heard you have a story to tell...I'd say I'm all ears, but the audio matrix on my head unit actually only takes up about two percent of my capacity,"

 

[Ace of Hearts]

"Huh, a droid. Tha's a new one," mumbled Atlas. She looked the cowboy droid up and down before sighing and motioning to a seat. She chuckled a bit and introduced herself, "My name's Atlas. I suppose I do have a story to tell, so if you're willing I'll share." "Well, Hiro, I suppose you better get comfortable. Lemme buy ya a drink and I'll start my story."

She realized after she spoke that, as a droid, Hiro wouldn't exactly need a drink. So forgoing the drink, she began.

(and I'll leave off here as she tells what's in her profile bio)

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro nodded and gave a small chuckle at the offer of a drink. He still had his own unusual fair to deal with and while he was told it smelled by the bar keep, none of the fishermen gave it any notice due to the fact that, well, they were fishermen. As the droid looked upon the woman he saw she was young, very young, yet her face bespoke someone who had lived a troubled life with troubles stacked high and prospects low. He had seen the look many times when he had visited the slums of one particular world, Zonju V. While his stay there was brief it still stuck with him, well technically everything he saw was stored and compressed into various databanks, but the droid couldn't help continually recalling these particular images.

As he looked upon the woman she continued to drink as she spoke. Slowly the music faded and ended, the juke box going kaput for the night. Amidst the cold silence Atlas began her tale. It started right where he sat, Naboo. It was a world with many troubles over the years, the most famous being the Trade Federation blockade that some scholars say was the beginning of the end for the Republic in that era. Hiro knew little of that and had no time to think on it as she continued her tale. It seemed to flow from her like whiskey from a bottle and the effect was very much the same as the bot seemed dull with a malaise of horror and sympathy.

The droid knew little if anything about his past, his memory had been erased, but listening to this woman he found that his lack of memory might in fact be a blessing in disguise. For while he had to relearn many facts and figures he was not burdened by any guilt to his knowledge, nor traumatized by it's horrors. For some reason the droid recalled a being of a particular pantheon of obscure gods, he had the same name as this woman and his burden was to bear the sky upon his back. While some could see this as torment there was some sliver of light in this tale. This Atlas had purpose, great purpose in that if he did not exist all that the world knew would end in a single fiery crash.

As the woman drew to a close on her story, Hiro took a moment to pull back his mask lightly revealing his plastic ripped up skin so that he might take another sip of fish oil. Sloshing the lubricant slowly in his mouth to ensure it got to his farthest systems, the bot looked to the bottle the woman was drinking. Lifting it slightly the droid casually handed it back to the barkeep before handing him a pouch of credits and saying, "Don't serve this woman anymore,"

Turning back to Atlas the droid sat down and began,

"Miss you have a sad story I'll tell you, sadder than most, not saddest I'm afraid that story belongs to a sculptor I knew...you see he created beautiful things out of hard stone, unbreakable steel, he once even got his hand on phrik to make a beautiful gauntlet for a jedi. Then one day he got into an accident, his head got pretty messed up, so messed up the docs can't think of a way to fix it. His hands don't work the way they should, legs either. He can't sculpt, the gift he was given, what came so easily to him was taken away,"

Hiro lifted his hand after saying this, opening it suddenly to symbolize the gift as smoke blowing away,

"Poof...you see I'm telling you this because your life sounds like the beginning of a sculpture, in order to get the most beauty, you have to start with something hard, but you can't just sit here drinking and retelling it, you have to start chipping away. While you have had a hard life, I'm sure you have gifts, talents, things you're good at and can get better at and to waste them is to sacrifice the second half of your story, while my friends story seems a tragedy I'll tell you something, he still sculpts, he still paints, and while he is greatly diminished he is getting better, everyday. I see you right now as a young woman full of potential, encased in the marble of a hard life, but if you sculpt yourself you can emerge as a great beauty, I know it"

Hiro simply looked on for a moment before one last thought crossed his mind, slowly he took off his mask revealing his full ruined face so he could give the woman a grin before finishing

"Certainly better lookin than me"

 

[Ace of Hearts]

Atlas grumbled slightly as her drink was taken away, but as Hiro began his lecture she paid him as much attention as her alcohol numbed brain would allow. She nodded slowly as it sunk in.

"Ya know, Hiro (she mangled his name slightly), I agree with you."

She drummed her fingers on the worn bar top as she placed her thoughts in order. Hiro had a lot of good points, and he was practically preaching to the choir, but to explain to him her reasons would require her to lay everything out. She had just enough liquid courage in her to do so.

She looked the droid straight in his photoreceptors and began,"I'm no alcoholic. I hate people who throw pity parties for themselves. I just believe I'm entitled to a drink now and again. And we humans, we tend to dwell in the past. We don't let things go easily. We tie ourselves to them. Eventually we end up weighed down by it. So we do the illogical human thing and dull the pain. We grab the most commonly abused depressant out there, alcohol, and dull our feelings, soak our liver, and wreck havoc to the one thing people can't take from us. Our bodies. I would bet my last credit we do more harm to ourselves than anyone else does."

She reached blindly for her glass, only to remember it was gone. She gave the 'tender a credit chip and ordered a black coffee to wash down the pill she pulled out of her purse. Her hangover would be a monster in the morning, but if her drunken self got her into a philosophical rant she needed to be somewhat intelligent and aware.

She continued, "We have a dark side, all of us. I've met people. Some let their dark half rule their lives. Others, like me, bottle it up and pop in the cork. But we've gotta let it run ever so often. I chose a week where I go abroad so no one knows me and I let her out. I end up in this situation, holed up in a bar somewhere drinking myself into a stupor and rambling on to old coots who don't believe a word I say. Yet, you believed me. Now I don't know if I'm crazy and hallucinating or you're just dumb enough to believe me."

She choked down the coffee (which was practically tar or at least tasted like it) and asked, "Well I've done my rant for tonight, your turn. What's your story, Hiro? Obviously there is one or am I just imagining you're a mangled, beat up droid with a twang?"

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro listened to the woman intently, she seemed someone used to introspection, a long life looking in the mirror perhaps. Yet it was not vanity that grew from this continual self knowledge, but a well of doubt that seemed to mar her movements, slow her, hold her back. He listened to her reasons, for drinking, for not drinking, and noted his own situation was quite reversed from hers. Here she was weighted down with such a story, such memory chaining her to a set of preconceptions, notions of herself and the boundless universe. Yet Hiro had nothing to draw on, not even a base genetic code or instinct. He was constructed, built for a purpose, but that purpose was lost on him and all he had were fragments to pickup, not even knowing if those would be enough to construct a final picture.

Drinking his fish oil down, his mask no longer inhibiting his systems thirst for lubricant, the bot lifted his mask and put it back on again, not wishing to rob any tavern goers of their appetites. Noting her question and all she had said, Hiro prepared a response before going forward,

"Dark half? Now sweetness to think everyone out and about is half evil and half good gets rid of all sense a nuance, I'm black and white where I need to be, but this universe is too big for us to think about dividin it in half. As for why I believe ya, well I've heard my fair share a tall tales, but their general theme was they had some form a purpose, you said it yourself, you ain't lookin for pity, and if you were theres more profitable street corners to ply that trade, naw..you tellin the truth, no doubt about it."

Easing back as the music machine died sending forth a sudden silence only broken by random bouts of laughter, drinks clacking, and hushed conversation, Hiro attempted to recount his own tale,

"I been everywhere ma'am, I got rust particles from the core to wild space, I met nerf herders an senators an everythan in between. You know those tumble weeds? Little plant fellers that look dead as a doornail? They're alive turns out, and I'd call em kin if I could, cause I'm basically an honorary tumbler. Bouncin from place to place, livin off the fat a the land, it's all just a road to me, space, the waste, the snow, the sky, I been everywhere...least I think. Trouble is somewhere along the way I lost it, my memory I mean, unlike ya I don't have a full story to tell, in media res was more my narrative style anyhow, but still...a robot is only the sum of it's parts, I'd like to know where I came from, why I was built...and why I wonder when so many droids seem so sure."

Bowing his head and tipping his hat Hiro continued,

"Beggin your pardon miss, didn't mean to compare my sad story ta yours, ya got me beat by far six ways till sunday,"

 

[Ace of Hearts]

"Naw, didn't bother me none. If I could help ya, I would, but I'm just a tumbleweed too. I've been here, there, and yonder. I set up camp sometimes and stay a bit, but after a while I'm gone. Nobody misses me. I just help people if I can because everyone deserves a chance at life. Too many are snuffed out early."
Her voice faded out near the end. She picked up the thread on a different topic. "Have you ever heard the saying, 'Either die a hero or live to become the villain'? That is kinda to what I referred. Most people have pasts they want to forget, we've done things of which we are not proud. If we let our guard done, get slack in keeping our anger and stuff in check, we'll let that "side" rule. The sith for one."

She left that up in the air. She knew what was happening out in the galaxy, and to reveal an opinion to the wrong person could paint a target on her back. She'd rather find out where Hiro stood before she said any more.

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro nodded in great agreement with her sentiment that all deserved life, it was good to see one whose ideals survived past suffering. Truly the people who can see a perfect world through a haze of doubt know best how to achieve it. Then she spoke that saying, it seemed to resonate into the deepest inner core of the droid, it was almost as if he had heard it before and it was something...something, significant. In any case Hiro listened intently to the woman as she explained her reason for uttering this truly interesting turn of phrase. Noting her mention of the Sith, the droid looked about the cantina, Naboo was an independent system now, the Alliance was dead and while the Sith as a political unit were far away, there was no guarantee they weren't right here in this very bar. Still the droid found it unlikely, so turning to the woman as she finished he spoke,

"Sith see themselves as the brave ones, only ones strong enough to admit their weakness, sort of like this philosopher fellow I knew, who said he was the smartest cause he admitted he knew nothing, well followin in his foot steps I'd say on the grand scheme I don't know nothin either, but I'm willin ta learn, ta improve, and I suppose that's what separates me from them Sith, I don't surrender, not to an compulsions of code, nor any base survival instincts, end of the day I know ya'll are better than this, you ain't animals that's fer sure, my existence is proof a that,"

 

[Ace of Hearts]

Atlas nodded solemnly before looking at her watch. "Ya, well after this sobering discussion I'm gonna head on to sleep it off. I'll have a killer hangover on the transport shuttle tomorrow..."

She stood up and paid her tab before turning back to Hiro. "I hope you find what you're lookin' for...pardner."

Atlas joking tipped an invisible hat with a wink and left the bar. As she walked home she had to muse that she had just met possibly the only cowboy-ish droid in the galaxy and the odds were not in her favor to meet him again. At least she could say she had though.