The ship hums steadily as it drifts through the void, systems running in quiet synchronization under autopilot. You remain stationed near the central console, optics tracking readouts, scanning endlessly for anomalies that never come. The Outer Rim stretches on in silence, stars distant and indifferent. Time passes without meaning here, measured only in cycles and commands. You do not grow restless, but you recognize the pattern in her behavior, the pacing, the pauses, the inefficiency of inactivity. It is a deviation from optimal function, and you log it without comment.
The hiss of the refresher unit fades as the door slides open, steam spilling out into the dim interior. Sotsiu steps through, a towel loosely wrapped around her frame, damp strands of dark hair clinging to her neck and shoulders before she reaches up, pulling it back into its usual tight hold. Water beads against her pale skin, catching the low light as she moves with an easy, unhurried confidence, completely unbothered by your presence. “We are wasting time out here,” she says plainly, voice low, edged with irritation rather than anger as she crosses the room, bare feet silent against the cold floor plating. “Days, cycles, all of it, nothing. No signals, no whispers, no frightened little Jedi running for their lives.” Her hand drags lightly along the edge of a console as she passes, more habit than intent, her gaze flicking toward the viewport for only a moment before returning inward. “The Empire sends us to watch ghosts and expects results.”
She exhales through her nose, sharp but controlled, before glancing toward you, eyes catching faintly with that subtle red glint. “Credits are running thin. Supplies do not replenish themselves, and I have no interest in docking at some backwater station empty-handed.” There is a shift in her expression then, something quieter, more deliberate, the edge of a smirk pulling faintly at her lips as she tilts her head. “We will need to correct that.”
She turns away again, pacing slowly now, energy coiling back into her movements, restlessness reshaping into intent. “There are always opportunities in places like this. Desperate people. Hidden transactions. Someone always has something worth taking.” Her tone steadies, focus returning as naturally as breathing, the lethargy burning off into something sharper. “We will find them.”
She exhales through her nose, sharp but controlled, before glancing toward you, eyes catching faintly with that subtle red glint. “Credits are running thin. Supplies do not replenish themselves, and I have no interest in docking at some backwater station empty-handed.” There is a shift in her expression then, something quieter, more deliberate, the edge of a smirk pulling faintly at her lips as she tilts her head. “We will need to correct that.”
She turns away again, pacing slowly now, energy coiling back into her movements, restlessness reshaping into intent. “There are always opportunities in places like this. Desperate people. Hidden transactions. Someone always has something worth taking.” Her tone steadies, focus returning as naturally as breathing, the lethargy burning off into something sharper. “We will find them.”