Faux

So...cold... It made sense why it would be so cold, being in space and all, but Faux had never been so cold in her life. Her body shivered and shook to burn calories to make up heat as quick as it was lost to the air around her. It was a body's autonomous response to the stimuli, normally uncontrollable until the system was returned to normal. But she knew through years of practice any one of her muscles could be commanded through conscious direction. Instead of trying to tighten the muscles against increasingly violent convulsion against the cold she relaxed and urged her muscles to do the same. Sitting cross legged on the small bed, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. In quickly, out slowly. This rhythm would turn the cool air in her lungs warm as the body naturally does, then the slow exhales would keep the heat in longer. She took breath with her abdomen, drawing it down deeper than what the chest could command, feeling the energy draw down into the major vessel. Exhales drove the energy up and out, through muscle and sinew to the skin. Though she never needed to retain her heat on the desert world of Tatooine, the principles in the practice were always taught alongside expelling excess heat. It was all about balance, controlling your own flow of life essence to where it was needed most to maintain a harmonious system. For an hour she continued this practice until she began to sweat, feeling her own essence vibrantly through all the major and lesser channels. Each had their own path, and took concentration to direct the energy as necessary. No longer did her muscles twitch like sticks rubbing together to create fire from friction. Warm, her muscles were ready to stretch and get ready for today’s practice, but the room the pilots gave her was much too small for all of that. With a deep exhale Faux expunged any remaining stagnant energy and got out of bed, pressing the button to let the door slid away into the wall. She didn’t remember much from when Stan showed her around the ship. The Juma juice made her a little fuzzy and sleepy, which was why a nap quickly ensued just after making the jump to hyperspace. However, most of the ship was cargo space, half of which was sealed and she was forbade to go, so navigating the remainder of the ship to find the cockpit was a simple task. “Hello.” She chimed. Stan appeared to be the only one in the cockpit, busying himself by flicking through a datapad with half interest. Dukono must have been in his quarters, or the section of cargo bay she wasn’t allowed into. “Ah, so she’s awake.” He said without looking up. “What’s the matter? Juma juice too much for ya?” “I…” she started, suddenly a little embarrassed for an assumed ineptitude. “Well, I’ve never had anything with alcohol before. It didn’t taste very good and it just made me sleepy. How does everyone enjoy it?” “You get used to it. Keep drinking and you get past that sleepy bit and it starts to make you feel good.” I don’t need a substance to feel good… but what I do need… “Would you mind if I used the open cargo bay to practice?” “Practice what?” He said, turning from the datapad to look her over. She didn’t have any instruments or equipment. “Vitality.” She said without pause. After staring blankly for a moment, Stan said “What?” in a confused way. Faux returned the blank stare, not really sure where his confusion came from. “I…uh, practice moving. You know, stretching and holds. Small circles and large.” “O….kay….” Stan finally said, still unsure what she really meant. “You mean exercise?” “Not qui-“ Faux stopped, realizing that in the time she got him to some solid ground of understanding she could be done with practice and already onto dinner. “Pretty much, yeah.” “Sure. Just don’t break anything.” Stan meant not to break anything on her person, but Faux took it to mean don’t break anything in the room. I guess bone conditioning is out. “Thank you.” She said with a courteous nod, then proceeded toward the open cargo room. Just as she was opening the door, the door behind her leading to the sealed cargo bay opened up. She turned to see Dukono leaving, with what appeared to be two dozen or so humanoid size cages filling the cargo bay. Dukono said something in an angry tone and quickly sealed the door behind him before stomping off toward the cockpit. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t…” But he was already gone. Oh well. I wonder what the cages are intended for? Are we picking up animals somewhere? Oh, I’ll get to see animals. The thought occurred to her that they may be intended for people, but she pushed it away. Why would they transport people in cages? Unless they were hired to transport criminals, maybe… The cargo bay open to her was mostly empty save for a few empty containers and shelves lined with spare ship parts. After taking a moment to move everything against the walls she returned to the middle and began. First she stretched everything, slow and methodical like she had a million times before. Down to taunt, then consciously relax the muscle and push it a little further. Back up to a neutral position, repeat a dozen or so times. All the way down to the toes, every joint was pushed to maximal range. Hmm…let’s see. Yesterday was technique, so that makes today endurance. Faux started going through her regular regimen of calisthenics, holding the body in abnormal poses for extended periods to put strain on the muscles to build strength. When one muscle group started to get tired or shaky beyond her ability to keep them relaxed, she would shift into another pose to utilize another group. Moving from legs to abdomen, back to shoulders to arms, hands, everything was pushed to hold the entirety of her bodyweight in one fashion or another. To anyone starting new with these exercises they would look impossible, but Faux had been doing handstand pushups and horse stance since she was a little girl. Now they served more as mental exercises than physical, pushing willpower over pain. With a deep breath she leaned forward to put her weight on her hands and off of her legs, now resting on crates a meter in the air two meters apart, and let them go to the ground and rose to her feet. It would take a couple minutes for breathing to make sure all the channels were flowing properly and no excess energy was trapped in the course of the exercises. When she opened her eyes, Stan was leaning in the doorway mesmerized. There was something wolfish about his expression. “How long have you been there?” Faux asked, giving everything one last stretch. “Not long…” Something about how he said it made her think it was a lie. “Dukono said you tried to go into the other cargo bay. “He was leaving it as I was coming in here. If I saw something I shouldn’t have, it was an unavoidable mistake. I’m sorry.” “It’s okay…” He said, blinking as if coming back to himself. “We’ve been ordered to pick up some specimens on Kashyyyk for study. They’ll be pretty dangerous, even in their cages, so we didn’t want you going in there and get yourself hurt.” But there isn’t anything in there now… “I appreciate your concern. I will respect your wishes and leave that section of the ship alone.” She bowed her head slightly, giving way to his wishes. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but what else was there? This was their ship after all. “We’ll be landing on Kashyyyk within the hour. There’s a small trading port you can look around in while we load the ship.” “Thanks. I’ll get my things ready.” Stan gave a half smile and left, but something didn’t feel right.

The smell of body odor lay thick in the air. She wanted her senses to seek the readily apparent marvels contained within the cantina, like all the new types of sentient people she had never seen before and the strange flow of syllables that poured from their mouths, the chaotic yet cyclical music rising up and over the staccato stream of discussion, or the bright holographic displays streaming around in a flurry of short videos and advertisements for things she had never known existed before now. Instead she remained transfixed not a meter inside the door, all concentration devoted to trying to fight against the repulsion flaring in her nostrils. There is no such thing as a good or bad smell. It is simply a smell. It is simply your bias that deems it good or bad. Rattling the old lessons around in the mind seemed to help take away the totality of the sensation, but the assault had done its job in souring her opinion of the place from the very start. Now the smell was simply a type of air, but the indignation remained if now nothing more than a shallow filter over perception. Cred chip in hand Faux walked through the crowded cantina careful not to bump into anyone and managed to find an empty, uncleaned table. A few flit glances her way, but none seemed concerned with her presence, let alone offered any polite form of welcome or greeting. The crowd continued to roar in competition with the music, and she may as well not have existed. It seems to be the nature of this place for everyone to keep to themselves, or at least those familiar. I shouldn’t feel neglected. They have no reason to speak to me. But this was where the Jawa said I could find space pilots. Is everyone in here a pilot, or do I have to just start asking people until I find one? Weaving deftly through the patrons a droid approached Faux’s table and began collecting the dirty classes. “What would you like?” It asked in a monotone voice. Oh, how very helpful. “Hello. My name is Faux. And you are?” “This unit is designated B6-T3. What would you like?” “It’s nice to meet you, B6-T3,” What a weird name… “I was hoping to find a space pilot to take me to Coruscant. Would you happen to know where I can find one?” The droid paused for a moment, not used to this style of inquiry. “Many pilots frequent this cantina. I am unsure of their flight plans. If you require, I will submit your inquiry to the owner.” “That would be very helpful! Thank you very much, B6-T3.” “Would you like something to drink or eat?” “Oh…” So a cantina is a kitchen with entertainment. But why do they need to be entertained while they eat? Why distract yourself from your meal? To distract from the uncleanliness of the place, perhaps? “I would like some water, please.” “One water.” The droid repeated, wasting no time to return to the long counter in front of, presumably, where the beverages were kept. Several bottles of different color lined the shelves behind the counter. The one distributing the drinks was even combining a little from a couple bottles before handing them out. If I had known they had juice I would have gotten that instead. Juice was a rare thing back home, as it often consumed more fruit in the making of the drink than would have been sensible to simply eat, and fruit itself took a lot of time and water to grow. Turning it to juice was simply not prudent except on special occasions, which always tended to be her birthday or when she was feeling ill. She watched the droid relay her order to the beverage cook, or whatever he was, and presumably ask about available space pilots for her. B6-T3 was such a helpful droid. Too bad it didn’t have free will to show such kindness of its own volition. Well, at least the programmers were kind. The beverage cook looked her way, mouthing something in a language she was unfamiliar, and spoke to a couple people at the end of the bar. They made conversation, and they too turned to look her over. Faux smiled and offered them a friendly wave, hoping to make a good impression on what could possibly be the ones taking her halfway across the galaxy on the first trek in space she would ever make. The pair got up from the bar, a human and a sentient she had never encountered before with grey skin, large, black eyes, and a small mouth. His head was shaped like an upside down egg and his hands had less fingers on them than the humanoids she knew from home. As they made their way toward her, Faux could see they were both carrying a drink in both hands. “Looking for a ride, eh?” The human said with a half sided smile, setting both of his drinks in front of Faux as his friend sat at the table, then setting himself. The other one slid one of his drinks over to the human and said something she didn’t understand. “Um… yes.” She said as she looked at the two drinks before her, one clear and probably her water, the other an amber color. She picked up the clear one and took a sip. It was water, but it tasted slightly bitter, like something was wrong with their evaporator. “Thank you for this other drink. What type of juice is it?” The alien said something, but she could only blink at her incomprehension. The human noticed this, eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to figure something else, and spoke up. “It’s whiskey. Glaxus won’t let you just order water here.” “Oh…” She said with confusion. What was wrong with ordering water? “Well, I’ve never had it before. Thank you.” She bowed her head in thanks and rose, taking the whiskey in hand. “My name is Faux. I was hoping to find a ride to Coruscant, if you happen to be headed that way.” Raising the glass for a drink, she paused when it got close enough to smell. Incredibly sour, so much so it stung her nose, like the juice had spoiled or something. The human noticed this as well. He seemed to be watching her most cautiously. “I am Stan, and this is Dukono.” Faux wrinkled her nose in acceptance that it would be rude not to accept their drink, and raised it slightly toward them. “Nice to meet you, Stan. Dukono.” And tipped the drink enough to get a good taste of the sour drink. It burns! It burns it burns it burns it burns it burns it burns it burns it burns it burns! Her composure kept the disgust inside, but even after she swallowed the whiskey seemed to keep burning. She took a sip of water to wash it away and that seemed to help a little, but each exhale brought the burning up to tickle her nose. Why would anyone drink this?! Is this some sort of purifying solvent added to the diet to aid digestion or something? Then the thought of solvent seemed to make her connect some dots. This was alcohol. A substance consumed for its qualities as a drug more so than its flavor. She heard the brothers speak of it as a matter of temptation of the body and mind. A form of entertainment. Since she walked in she watched as everyone else was drinking something or another. Were they all subjecting themselves to this suffering for some promise of effect? How in the world is this entertaining? “What, have you never had liquor before?” He said with and amazed chuckle, taking the glass from her and tossing it back like water. “B6!” He shouted above the noise of the cantina. “Bring the lady a Juma juice.” I knew they had juice… “Anyway…Yeah, we can take you to Coruscant. You do have money, don’t you?” “Oh, yes!” She said, pulling out the credit chip Adon had given her. It was all of the money the monastery had saved in the many years since they had to buy something they couldn’t trade for. Often they just bartered with the Jawa’s, but sometimes a few credits would be added or taken in the deals to make them more balanced. “I have a little over four thousand. Will that be enough to get to Coruscant?” A little over four thousand seemed like a lot to her, but her brothers said it would probably only be enough to get her a couple rides and food for a month or so. Even still, she had no idea how much things costed. She might have to find some more if she wanted to get off planet. After that her survival would rest entirely on her own shoulders. Dukono said something to Stan, who held up a hand and nodded a dismissal. “It’s a thousand for the ride. We’re already on a run to deliver a few things, so Coruscant won’t be too far off from where we were going anyway.” B6 arrived with another glass, this one filled with an orange looking opaque fluid. It still smelled sour, but not nearly as much as the whiskey and had a tone of sweetness to it somewhere in it as well. “Thank you.” She said to the droid as it collected the empty glass and returned to work. Sipping this one with more caution, it wasn’t nearly as bad. It still had an aftertaste of chemical burn, but the sweetness covered it well. Juma juice was good! At least, good by comparison of the first. She’d still rather have regular juice. “A thousand doesn’t seem too bad. And you say we’ll get to see other places along the way?” “Sure. Nar Shaddaa and Cardia.” Dukono said something before sipping his drink. “Oh, that’s right. We’ve gotta stop by Kashyyyk first.” She didn’t know where any of these places were, but it felt like she was getting a deal to be able to see all these places for a thousand credits. “Okay! When do we leave?” “We can head over now, if you like. They’re refueling the ship now and…” Dukono said something between drinks. “No, they should be done loading that by now.” Dukono tilted the rest of his drink back and set the empty glass on the table, muttering on about something or another. “It’ll be fine. The contact said…” Stan looked sideways at Faux, deciding it better not to have this conversation in front of her. “Look, Duko, it’ll be fine. Alright?” Dukono muttered on, getting up from the table and made his way toward the exit. “Okay.” Stan said as he got up. “Finish your drink and we’ll be out.” Faux followed suit and stood up, taking a sip of the Juma juice only to notice Stan was already on his way out. She drained her glass quickly and followed Stan. “Thanks B6!” She shouted as the door shut behind her. “Wait…” Said the droid as it tried to push through customers. “Your bill…”

Drifting in and out of daydreams, gliding across the dune sea, could this be real? Could a person be so excited and so apprehensive, so thirsty and so revolted? Growing up Faux wanted nothing more than to go on a fantastic adventure, see beautiful cityscapes and meet interesting people. Oh, how she would walk the galaxy with joy in her heart and curiosity in her eyes. Yet everyone at the monastery offered her nothing but cautious woes and slander. Most tales regarding the world outside the walls were filled with nothing but contempt, pity, sorrow and suffering. Perhaps there was some sweetness out there, they said, but it would be like a grain of sand lost in the vastness of space. So engrossed was the galaxy, what was the point? But it had always seemed so defeatist to her. Completely antithetical to what the monks were hoping to accomplish in their selfish exclusion. If the galaxy really was so screwed up, is it not the duty of the wise to try to heal it, rather than run away and hide where they think it safe? Of course she didn’t think she could heal the galaxy. She was far too removed from it to make any sort of impact. But for now she could explore it, get to see this sickness her brothers spoke of, and see if it really was as hopeless as they thought. She felt like she already knew the answer, though. There is no such thing as hopeless. “We will surely miss you, little one.” Adon said over the roar of the wind whipping by them as he maneuvered the speeder through the desert. “The halls will be much quieter without you.” Faux sighed, breaking her out of her daydreaming. “Don’t let it get too quiet, okay? No sense in you guys sitting around being grumpy all day.” “No fear of that. We will have your memory to warm our hearts against the insufferable cold.” He glanced over to offer up a smile, only to notice her tearing up. “Oh, don’t cry, child. This is for the best, truly. You need to see the galaxy. And who knows, maybe it won’t disappoint you like it has so many.” She sniffled and blinked away a tear before it demanded more. “I feel like I’m being selfish.” “How so?” “You all have been so kind, even when I was being rotten. You’ve fed me and given me shelter, and taught me so much. You have cared for me when my own parents wouldn’t. And now, given the opportunity, I leave the first chance I get.” “Don’t be foolish. You have done your fair share of work for your keep, as everyone else does. You practice our ways and do so with focus and effort. If you ever saw one of your brothers in grief you would always try to cheer him up. Even this sense of guilt you feel now only proves how much you care for us. We could not have asked for a better little sister.” “But…” “Do not think about what your obligations to us may be. You have none. You are a free individual now, and must make your own way in this galaxy. Perhaps in time you will rejoin us, perhaps not. Perhaps you will find another place that needs you, lives you can brighten, and wounds you can mend. Perhaps you will find the same frivolous suffering your brothers experienced, in which case you will always have a home to return to. But remember this, little one. You must find your own purpose. Do not let anyone give you one. If it does not come from your own heart, it will never be true.” Ultimately this was the very reason she had to leave. Life in the monastery was safe and familiar, but to choose it for fear of the outside world was never really a choice at all. Faux knew it, her brother monks knew it. This was why they did not begrudge her leaving, but still she couldn’t shake this sense of duty and obligation toward them. They were her family after all. One doesn’t just abandon their family. Not like her parents did to her. She couldn’t be that callous. “I know. I’ll just miss you guys, is all.” The ride continued in silence for a while, uneventful save for the occasional stack of sun bleached bones of one large desert animal or another. Sand gave away to valleys between rocky plateaus and again to even more sand. Through the haze of evaporating moisture a large structure began to rise in the distance. “We’re coming up on the meeting place. Gather your things.” Faux had always wondered what the inside of one of the Jawa’s massive land transports looked like, even dreamed of stowing away on one on the rare occasions they would happen by the monastery and trade much needed replacement parts for whatever food, water, and medicine the monks could spare. Now that the time was here the sight of the behemoth filled her with a dull sort of apprehension. This would be the first of many new experiences on her journey. Pulling the speeder along the boarding ramp, Adon got out of the speeder first, plucking the neatly wrapped package from the back of the speeder and headed toward the party awaiting them. Faux took her time getting out, feeling the weight of every footstep pulling her further from home. The land cruiser was massive, casting a shadow a hundred meters long or more in the afternoon sun. As she walked toward the group Adon handed a Jawa the bundle and nodding as all but one of the Jawas moved up the ramp. “They will take you to Mos Eisley. From there it is to you to find passage off world.” “Any suggestions?” She masked herself with a smile, but her tone couldn’t hide her anxiousness. “Coruscant. You’ll see all walks of sentient life, culture, entertainments and goods. You’ll get a little taste of what the rest of the galaxy has to offer. That would be my first stop. From there you can find transportation to anywhere in the galaxy.” “Okay.” Even as he was saying it she could feel the distance between them become greater and greater. It made her heart heavy. Heavier than the inquisitive joy she had long cultivated for this very same opportunity. “Do not forget, little one. Anything is possible with determination and practice.” She looked up at her big brother with the widest smile she could muster and nodded. This was it. This was goodbye. As the Jawa lead her up the ramp she paused, turning to see Adon showing her nothing but a happy, beaming smile, waving at her like she was coming home from playing in the dunes so many times before. Faux wished she had his certainty. She continued up the ramp as it ascended, feeling the finality of it all as the sunlight faded into artificial light and the ramp sealed shut with a hiss. Here we go…

Faux's CHARACTER SHEET Image by Whails from DeviantArt Identity Real Name: Faux Tilderi A.K.A: Homeworld: Unknown - Raised on Tatooine Species: Human Physical Description Age: 18 Height: 5' 7" (1.7m) Weight: 110 lbs ( Hair: Light Brown Eyes: Hazel Sex: Female Equipment Clothing or Armor: See Image (no armor) Weapon: Songsteel Staff (2m), Lightsaber (See Below) Common Inventory: Credit chip (4,132), assorted medicinal herbs Faction Information Force Sensitive - Unknowingly Alignment: Neutral Good Current Faction Affiliation: None Current Faction Rank: None History: Force Side: N/A Trained by: N/A Trained who: N/A Known Skills: Meditate, Acrobatics, Hand to hand, Staff, Medicine (herbal), First Aid Specifics Lightsaber Background: Lost amidst the Dune Seas of Tatooine rests a monastery for those who had given up on the outside world. These hermit monks believed the galaxy would forever be enshrouded in darkness so long as sentient kind retained is voracity for material gain at the expense of other's well being. To them, the only thing concerning sentient life should be the shedding of such desire, a simple life focused on transcending the spirit beyond the need of rebirth. Meditation and ascetic practices kept their bodies and minds healthy, and with them raised their spirits beyond worldly concerns. A simple life of farming and self cultivation was all that was required, and all they really ever wanted. As secluded as the monastery was wayward souls still managed to find their way, perpetuating this philosophy for countless generations. Some said they were called from afar, one existential crisis too many seeming to be the catalyst for a need of pilgrimage. Others fatefully stumbled upon the monastery, aimlessly wandering the desert wastes waiting to die or find the answers they so desperately needed. Regardless of past sins or present circumstances all were given sanctuary. All would be shown the way to self deliverance. As calm and composed as these monks may be, however, they didn't quite know what to do when they discovered the infant girl at the gates. Some had experience with children in lives before their vows, but this was not what the monastery was for. Should they return the child to a settlement, find a family that would raise her as their own? But to return her to the world they so disdained seemed abhorrent at the thought. How could they subject this poor soul to such a wasted fate? Every other soul that had found their way here seemed to do so for a purpose. Perhaps, she too was fated to this path? The years would prove otherwise as the little girl grew in size and imparted wisdom. While the monks had had their fill of the outside world and grew disgusted by it, she had known nothing of it and craved nothing more than to see it with her own eyes. The fact of the matter was that she had never chosen this life. It was simply all she knew. So on her eighteenth birthday, when the time had come to make her own decisions, the monks sent her on her way to see the galaxy for what it really was. Hopefully she would be alright. Hopefully she would come to the same understanding that they had and would return to them, eager to live a life of simple peace and harmony. Hopefully... (Backstory updated as story occurs. Blanks will be filled in as it comes up in story.)