Apart from sounding like a shot of espresso, Botajef was one of those ecumonopolis worlds where one side of the city was as good as the other and there’s your city, here’s your world. And here’s your Togruta wondering how the hett she got from there to here.
The young lady had been wandering the streets that morning, discovered a cafe, stepped on a shoe (it was soggy), bought a leather yellow jacket, figured it was time to set sail.
Leh'Min'Ayd wasn't a pilot in any sense of the word but she had an uncle who had a ship and it was in his will to give to his niece come the day of his death which was some twenty years ago but things don't always make sense at first.
“Excuse me, excuse me!” Frantic but hold the panic, Lemon was starting to regret that second shot of espresso. “Excuse meee!” She waved toward someone who looked like they worked in this zoo-alien spaceport given that he stood behind a desk looking her way.
Of course, as fate would force it, the girl had to negotiate her way through lanes of pedestrian traffic: this Devaronian heading toward that gate; that Duros carrying take-away from this restaurant; this legless Human juggling bowling pins outside that lounge (so not really part of pedestrian traffic but caught Lem's gaze all the same).
“Excuse me, sorry,” Lem caught her breath and leaned against the desk. “I’m looking for the reception customer service desk something or other.”
The man pointed up. Half-expecting a ship to fall from the sky, Lem squinted upward to read the word ‘Reception’ on a bright blue sign. “Oh.”
“How may I help you, miss?”
“I need to get my ship. Here’s the slip.” Slidey-slidey.
“Let’s see… The Cordabella…Gate 19…so far so good...just need to see the title, miss.”
“My whozitwotzit? There’s the slip for my ship!"
“Yes, miss, but I still need to see the title as proof of ownership.”
“Oh, so you got somethin’ against lekku, huh?”
“Um, I’m a Twi’lek, miss.”
“Well…well…” To be fair, the Twi’lek’s lekku were handsomely strewn. Like spaghetti over shoulders or…hi. “Well, maybe you got somethin’ against TOGRUTA lekku?” Lem jabbed a finger like the pointy part of a lightsaber. “You’re a Togrutaist!” Despite her passion, she was quickly coming to realize that she wasn’t making much headway here.
“Miss, if you fail to comply I’m going to have to ask you to step out of line so another customer can—"
“You don’t need to see my title,” Lem informed with a steady wave. “Proceed forth, proceed forth.”
There was a pause, the clerk blinking into the Padawan’s eyes. Heh. Gotchu. “Um,” piped said clerk. “So, yeah, that just happened, but I very much do still need to see your title. Please proceed to the back of the line. Next!”
“I… What the hett?” Lem hardly noticed the Herglic all but budge her aside, too busy blinking at her helpless hand. “...B-But…the wave…the Jedi Forceness…why didn’t… Is it ‘cause I skipped breakfast?” Wait…there was that donut… Was it pumpkin?
Whatever it was, Leh’Min’Ayd needed to find a way to get that ship and reclaim her noble right. It’s not like some fellow Jedi was going to waltz on up and rescue her from such a dilemma, right? The galaxy was big but what would the odds of THAT be? A billion to a zillion and ONE!?!?!??!?!???
@Sicadorito
The young lady had been wandering the streets that morning, discovered a cafe, stepped on a shoe (it was soggy), bought a leather yellow jacket, figured it was time to set sail.
Leh'Min'Ayd wasn't a pilot in any sense of the word but she had an uncle who had a ship and it was in his will to give to his niece come the day of his death which was some twenty years ago but things don't always make sense at first.
“Excuse me, excuse me!” Frantic but hold the panic, Lemon was starting to regret that second shot of espresso. “Excuse meee!” She waved toward someone who looked like they worked in this zoo-alien spaceport given that he stood behind a desk looking her way.
Of course, as fate would force it, the girl had to negotiate her way through lanes of pedestrian traffic: this Devaronian heading toward that gate; that Duros carrying take-away from this restaurant; this legless Human juggling bowling pins outside that lounge (so not really part of pedestrian traffic but caught Lem's gaze all the same).
“Excuse me, sorry,” Lem caught her breath and leaned against the desk. “I’m looking for the reception customer service desk something or other.”
The man pointed up. Half-expecting a ship to fall from the sky, Lem squinted upward to read the word ‘Reception’ on a bright blue sign. “Oh.”
“How may I help you, miss?”
“I need to get my ship. Here’s the slip.” Slidey-slidey.
“Let’s see… The Cordabella…Gate 19…so far so good...just need to see the title, miss.”
“My whozitwotzit? There’s the slip for my ship!"
“Yes, miss, but I still need to see the title as proof of ownership.”
“Oh, so you got somethin’ against lekku, huh?”
“Um, I’m a Twi’lek, miss.”
“Well…well…” To be fair, the Twi’lek’s lekku were handsomely strewn. Like spaghetti over shoulders or…hi. “Well, maybe you got somethin’ against TOGRUTA lekku?” Lem jabbed a finger like the pointy part of a lightsaber. “You’re a Togrutaist!” Despite her passion, she was quickly coming to realize that she wasn’t making much headway here.
“Miss, if you fail to comply I’m going to have to ask you to step out of line so another customer can—"
“You don’t need to see my title,” Lem informed with a steady wave. “Proceed forth, proceed forth.”
There was a pause, the clerk blinking into the Padawan’s eyes. Heh. Gotchu. “Um,” piped said clerk. “So, yeah, that just happened, but I very much do still need to see your title. Please proceed to the back of the line. Next!”
“I… What the hett?” Lem hardly noticed the Herglic all but budge her aside, too busy blinking at her helpless hand. “...B-But…the wave…the Jedi Forceness…why didn’t… Is it ‘cause I skipped breakfast?” Wait…there was that donut… Was it pumpkin?
Whatever it was, Leh’Min’Ayd needed to find a way to get that ship and reclaim her noble right. It’s not like some fellow Jedi was going to waltz on up and rescue her from such a dilemma, right? The galaxy was big but what would the odds of THAT be? A billion to a zillion and ONE!?!?!??!?!???
@Sicadorito
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