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CHARACTERS: Cobb Vanth & OTA
LOCATION: Kitchens & Common Living Area
DATE: Dec. 3rd
CONTENT: Cobb trying to settle in.
WARNINGS: Drinking. Cursing.

I. Kitchens

This place was the most advanced space station Cobb could have ever imagined except it didn't have a bar or cantina or any sort of place to drink that he could find. Once he woke up here he got a feel for the place he figured he should find some information. The best place on Tatooine to find out all the local gossip was the cantina.

Which this place didn't have.

Cobb figured if there wasn't a bar the kitchen was the next best place to find something to drink. The chances of hearing gossip were a little lower in the kitchens but not impossible. If it was anything like the kitchen when his aunties were around growing up in the commune there might be nothing but gossip and news to hear.

What he really wanted, though, was a drink.

Once he was in the kitchens, which were much bigger than he expected he started searching around for anything alcoholic. There wasn't a bottle of the familiar blue glowing spotchka here. He looked for that first. Damn, that was his favorite. He settled on a bottle of whiskey which was probably the best he would get right now.

"Hey, anyone have claim to this?" he asked, holding up the bottle.

II. Common Area

There weren't as many people as he expected in a ship so large. Cobb lounged in a common area, back to the wall, arm draped across the back of a chair. He was people watching, making note of who was around and trying to quickly memorize faces.

No one looked too familiar. It seemed whatever had grabbed him up and brought him here hadn't taken anyone else from home. At least that meant Issa-Or was there to look after everyone. He hoped no one in Mos Pelgo got too worried about him.

At least they were all stuck here together. Cobb hadn't made too many friends yet but he got the general sense that folks weren't here for a vacation or pleasure cruise. He didn't get the sense there was any infighting either. But he was new, after all. He didn't really know shit about this place or the reasons they were all here.

He was only slightly surprised when someone approached him. Cobb smiled a little and raise an eyebrow, curious to see what they wanted.

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Yelena is sitting at a table near the back eating a heaping bowl of sugary cereal because that’s a perfectly valid and healthy meal choice. Is this breakfast? Lunch? Dinner? She’s actually not sure, because time in space is weird and she just got back from a magic castle where, somehow, things were even weirder.

Time has no meaning any more. So she’s just eating what she wants when she wants.

She watches the newbie search around the kitchen as she munches her cereal. When he asks his question, she can’t help but reply, "Yes. It’s mine. All the booze belongs to me."

This is absolutely not true. She’s kidding.

Cobb looks over at the voice and raises a skeptical eyebrow. She doesn't look that old or that much of a drinker given she's eating some sort of grain soup? He's not sure what she's eating but he's sure it's not her bottle.

"Well, aren't you generous for sharing?" he says dryly. If she's going to be a smart ass then he's going to be a smart ass back.

He searches for a glass next. It's very rude to take the whole bottle but only slightly rude to take a glass worth from the bottle. Better to ask forgiveness than ask permission.

She smiles at his comment. "That’s me. Very generous. To a fault," she agrees easily, "And I prefer vodka."

So she’s not really inclined to seriously fight over the whiskey. She’s just been around a few months now, and teasing the newbies is kind of fun.

"Did you just get here?"

"Woke up a day or so ago." Hard to tell time in space. There's no suns to judge the time by. He gets a glass and pours a generous amount - no ice because he's never had any drink with ice in his life - and then puts the bottle back where he found it.

He leans a hip against a counter and studies the girl again. She looks fairly young but apparently old enough to drink.

"What's vodka?" It's not a drink name he recognizes.

Well, wherever he’s from apparently doesn’t have a Slavic region. "Distilled alcohol. It’s popular in Russia. On Earth," she tells him. She mentions Earth kind of as an afterthought, since she realizes if he’s not heard of vodka he’s probably from somewhere else.

She takes another bite of cereal and watches him pour his glass and put the bottle back, "You know, you can probably keep the bottle, if you want."

"Where's that, Core worlds?" Cobb's never heard of Earth but it sounds like a Core world type of place. He doesn't know having never seen a full map of the galaxy. He knows many of the big planets but his education is lacking. Very lacking.

He shakes his head. "It ain't mine. I'm gonna take what I need and no more." That's the law of the desert. If he took more than he needed there wouldn't be enough for the next person or the next time he wanted a drink.

Cobb toasts her with the drink. "I'm fine, miss."

"It's...in the Milky Way," she answers him, though her tone is vaguely uncertain, almost a question. Not because she doesn't know which galaxy Earth is located in. Her education was...unique, but she does know that much. She's just not sure it will mean anything in particular to him. The term "Core Worlds" certainly has no meaning to her.

She wrinkles her nose up a bit at his use of the word 'miss,' though. "I didn't say you weren't, mister," she tells him and then adds: "My name is Yelena."

None of that was familiar to Cobb. He shakes his head and shrugs. "Ain't a part of the galaxy I'm familiar with."

Milky Way, Earth, none of that's familiar to him and honestly, not really that important at the moment. He'll remember it's her home planet and it has a drink called vodka. Can't be that bad of a place.

"Cobb Vanth," he says with another tip of his drink towards her. "Pleasure to meet you, miss Yelena."

"And I’ve never heard of the Core Worlds, so I guess we’re even," she says.

She puts her spoon down and leans back in her seat to study him. "So, I am trying to figure out if you’re being condescending or polite by calling me miss," she explains.

It can go either way on Earth. Language can be weaponized. And she, herself, has not been called miss very often. She’s not sure how she feels about it or how she should interpret it.

"Are honorifics used a lot in your culture? Should I call you mister Cobb?"

"Huh." Cobb runs his tongue along the inside of his teeth then takes a sip. "Another galaxy then?"

Because that's how it seems. There's all sorts in this space station from what he had seen. It wouldn't be a surprise if folks were from all over the wild space beyond what he knew.

"It's meant to be polite since we don't know each other well," he says, a bit confused as to why she thought he'd be rude. "You can call me Vanth if you want to be formal."

"Another galaxy or another universe," she says, "I don’t know things are pretty weird here." She feels like there must be some inter-dimensional weirdness going on, but she’d be the first to admit she’s no expert.

She relaxes a little, accepting his explanation about formalities. He seems honest enough, and Yelena is capable of recognizing her own lack of normal socialization. Her experiences tend to make her distrustful, and being raised as more of a weapon than a person means she’s not used to people extending that level of politeness to her. She’s still deciding how she feels about his flavor of it, but she can at least accept that he’s being genuine.

She shrugs a bit, "Vanth is a cooler sounding name than Cobb, anyway." She’s not too stuck on being formal, but she’s willing to roll with it if that’s his preference.

"Yeah, I got that feelin'." Cobb hasn't been around long but there's definitely something strange going on. He woke up on a space station with no memory of how he got here. It was strange from the start.

He's honest when it suits him. Right now, there's no point in lying to a stranger. What's he got to gain making enemies right away? Easier to get around a new place by making friends.

"I'm glad you think so. It's suited me fine all these years." He chuckles softly. No one's ever called his name cool before. That's new. "How long you been here?"

She has to think about that one for a minute.

"About three months, I think," she says, picking up her spoon again to stir through what’s left of her cereal. "I’m still figuring out how time works in space, but I think that’s right."

Sometimes being off the station makes it even stranger, too, especially when magic castles are involved.

Cobb isn't sure either since he's never been in space before. He knows there's some sort of Galactic standard clock that's used by folks who travel the stars but it's just a general knowledge, no details.

"What's it like around here?" The question is genuine. He doesn't know what to expect. It doesn't look like this place is a work camp. It seems really nice and comfortable. Easy.

But what it looks like on the surface doesn't mean it's the truth.

Cobb may think that the droid currently in the kitchen fiddling around with a blender is there because she works there, part of the station's kitchen staff, but that thought couldn't be farther from the truth.

She hardly looks up when he enters and begins rifling around looking for something, thinking him just another organic, and she gives him only the briefest of glances as he asks whether anyone lays claim to the bottle of alcohol.

"No, but if you see a bottle of blue milk in the fridge, that one is mine."

It was a space station. There should be droids. There should be more than what he's seen, honestly but one in the kitchen doesn't surprise him. He's not exactly thrilled with droids in general but hey, makes sense they're around and he's not going to make trouble.

Cobb raises an eyebrow at the droid. "What's a droid need a bottle of blue milk for?"

They didn't eat. They didn't drink. They powered up and down and that was it. Maybe it's for cooking something? That seems logical but he's not sure why the droid is getting uppity with him.

Satisfied she's got the blender set up just how she wants it, Elthree turns to regards the man, noting his proper use of the term 'droid.' Most of the denizens of this station have referred to her thus far as a 'robot.' Could this person be from her galaxy?

"I'm making a bantha milkshake for a friend," is her simple answer. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"What's a milkshake?" Cobb has never heard of that before. Bantha milk? Sure, it's all over Tatooine but difficult to keep. Who shakes milk unless they're making cheese?

This droid seems to have an attitude chip which not the first time he's met a droid like that. People really try and make them seem too human sometimes.

"I ain't got a problem." He's got plenty of problems. First of which is waking up on a strange space station. Right now, though, he's trying not to pick a fight with a droid. Really gotta stop letting them get under his skin as easily as they did.

"You mean, on the station?" she asks, pondering the question. "It’s not bad. You can do pretty much anything you want, as long as it doesn’t involve going to the North Wing."

She’s not sure why the North Wing is closed off, but it seems to be the only real limitation on what they can do and where they can go.

"Missions seem to vary, though. They seem to have their own rules and limitations."

North wing off limits. Cobb makes a mental note of that. He's a little curious but now isn't the time to go poking around where he's not allowed. He'll break some rules later when he's got a better feel for this place.

He raises an eyebrow. "Missions? We go on missions?"

Cobb did not sign up for the military. He's not exactly happy to be roped into someone else's agenda. Especially when he doesn't know what that agenda really is.

"Ain't sure I like this space cruise."

She blinks a little, surprised. He must be very new if he doesn’t know about the missions yet. "Yes," she says, "we go on missions to collect magic space orbs so we can undo our regrets. Allegedly."

She’s not sure how much she believes it, if she’s honest. Undoing a regret seems like a pretty big task, and she’s not sure how possible it is to do without upending reality or something.

But then again if it is possible, somehow, it seems like it’s worth a shot.

"Dessert beverage. I've heard they're quite nice." Lando liked them, whenever he had occasion to drink one. He told Elthree they reminded him of simpler times. In any event, she'd promised a younger Finn one in a shared dream they'd experienced on the last mission, and she had decided not to give up on that promise.

Elthree narrows her optic at the man, thinking that because he questioned what a milkshake was, but not what a bantha was, it confirms her suspicion that he must be from her galaxy. She regards him, up and down, forming her own silent judgements.

"No, of course you have no problems. You just want an entire bottle of alcohol because you like the taste."

"Never heard of one." Anything cold or frozen on Tatooine was far too expensive for Cobb to ever afford. "Hope whoever you're makin' it for likes it."

As much as he didn't really get on with droids Cobb really wants to try and be polite here. Sometimes his personality was a little prickly and it's easy for him to get into a standoff.

He chuckles, rather amused to be taken as a heavy drinker. "Too old to drink like that anymore. Just want a glass and don't want to offend the owner if some goes missing."

Magic space orbs to change regrets sounds like a load of bantha shit to Cobb but he does remember the voice from the dream. Still, can't help but be suspicious. Big powerful force collecting people can't get magic orbs by itself? Cobb doesn't like it.

"Not sure any force in the universe is powerful enough to do that," he says with a shrug. "But I guess it'll keep us busy."

Cobb wonders how long it'll be before he finds out just what these missions are like.

Yelena shrugs a little. She can’t really blame him for doubting. "Where I am from, there have been forces powerful enough to tamper with reality. The price is usually pretty big, though."

So, even if it’s possible it might still get ugly.

Where she's from sounded like it was real complicated. Then again, the Jedi used to have all sorts of powers if the stories are true. Maybe they could twist reality before they were all killed off.

"Change always costs something," he says as he toasts her with his glass. "Thanks for the warning. I appreciate knowin' a little bit about what I've gotten myself into."

Which is a mess, clearly. He takes a drink because that's the right thing to do now.

Fair enough. Elthree gestures to a cabinet above the counter. "Glasses are in there. And as for the bottle's owner, almost everything here is by necessity communal. If anyone's offended a finger or two of their precious whiskey is missing, that's their problem."

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