|
Aphelion and the Home So Far Away
| |
| Davon·Vanden | Date: Wednesday, 08 Jul 2015, 2:41 AM | Message # 16 |
 Officer
Group: Users
Messages: 41
Status: Offline
| He ruminated on that for some time, catching the whiskey with a thankful nod and having himself a drink straight from the bottle. "A sight's one way to put it," he answered with a chuckle, remembering the heels on the ladder all too well. "Y'know how many times I told her to buy herself a pair of boots? Good and proper ones, would've been a good investment. She usually just laughed it off..."
Things hadn't gone the way he had hoped, not with Mara. Try as he might, for reasons beyond his comprehension, Davon had never succeeded at getting her into bed. A minor thing to lament, sure, as he held no illusions that Mara was the 'one that got away'. No, that girl was long removed from his life, back on Naboo, in all likelihood. There were days where he wondered how she was, now, but he thought better of ever checking up on her. Not after how things had ended, there.
"I can put out a few feelers, see if there's any of my Cartel contacts you ain't burned me on yet, try and dig up some information on Ransom. Mara'll be easier enough to find on her own. Ransom, well, just listen for that accent."
Davon Vanden
Navigator of the Aphelion
Message edited by Davon·Vanden - Friday, 10 Jul 2015, 12:14 PM |
| |
|
|
| Aaron_Rawls | Date: Monday, 13 Jul 2015, 2:28 AM | Message # 17 |
 Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 22
Status: Offline
| For the first time in months, sharing a drink and a laugh with Davon as they reminisced about Mara, everything felt the way it had before, right down to the musty smell of Davon's cigarette smoke hanging over the galley. But no sooner did this occur to Rawls than he admonished himself for thinking so. Things weren't how they used to be, he was the reason why, and he had no right to pretend otherwise, Rawls reminded himself harshly. His smile felt suddenly foreign to him, and it faded away.
An uncomfortable silence hovered over the galley, mingling with the smoke, as Rawls looked pensively around the room. He forced himself to see it for what it was: the strange confines of a ship belonging to someone else—belonging, specifically, to yet another man Rawls had betrayed, just as Sena had betrayed him. It was a life lesson that everyone learned sooner or later, Rawls had told himself in his darkest moments. He might as well be the one to teach that lesson, though he never thought he would teach it to Davon the way he'd done today. That the boy seemed to be so fast to forgive him simply made him feel worse, and the whiskey wasn't helping. He had put Davon's life in danger, and whether he'd done it as much for Davon's good as he had for his own selfish reasons, he wasn't sure.
Rawls glanced down at the tin of whiskey in his hand, noticed he was clutching it tightly, and loosened his grip. He sighed. No, things weren't how they used to be, Rawls wasn't the man he'd once been, and this certainly was not the Aphelion. Funny how, for the briefest of moments, it had felt like it.
"Davon, I'm..." he started to say, but then hesitated, "... calling it a night." He set the tin down, not bothering to finish his whiskey, as he rose again to his feet. "I wouldn't worry about Ransom," he answered belatedly, "I think I know where to look for him. In the meantime, a few of the bunks here have been converted into holding cells—(wasn't my idea)—but there's still enough rooms to choose from. My datapad is in the cockpit if you need to use it; the 'Sky Judge' should be able to get any belongings you need from your flat tomorrow." He nodded, sparing one last glance around the galley as he turned slowly to leave.
Aaron Rawls
Captain of the Aphelion, sort of
|
| |
|
|
| Davon·Vanden | Date: Monday, 13 Jul 2015, 3:15 PM | Message # 18 |
|
Officer
Group: Users
Messages: 41
Status: Offline
| He had noticed it, too, but pride had kept either man from pointing it out.
However brief it had lasted, it had felt good to laugh with the Captain again. Nothing could ever feel like home again, not until they found her and he could sink quietly into the navigation console again. He yearned for his creature comforts: the automated ashtray he had rigged up, the metal coat rack that only ever held aloft one jacket. And even more, he missed the imperfections. How she creaked and groaned with sudden turns, or how several buttons on his console always stuck. He'd cursed those buttons when they still had the Aphelion, but now he found he missed them more than anything. Those were the things that made it theirs, that made it home.
The atmosphere then, in that confined galley, was a mockery of what they had actually lost. Davon examined the Captain with a critical eye, the cigarette in his mouth smoldering down to the filter. He saw the man struggle, avert his eyes anywhere but at him directly. He knew then what the Captain had tried to say, but he just couldn't. He was a prouder man than that. Vanden's lips drew into a grim smile, and he nodded, absently gesturing the Captain off to bed. "I'm gonna stay up a while," he answered quietly. "Need to figure some things out. Night, Cap'n."
He sat in abject silence for a while after that; and his mind drifted to all that he'd left behind. He wondered if his father, wherever he was now, still thought of him. He thought of the girl, and how her hair always shone so brightly in the sunsets of the Lake Country. And he thought of the crew; of Doohan, Mara, Ransom. Percy and Kijari before that. So many people he would never see again. The boy lifted the left lapel of his blazer, as he did every night, and read the stitching therein.
To Davon. Love, Mom.
He flicked out the cigarette, tossing it into a nearby ashtray, before he kicked his legs off the couch and made his way to the bunks. The ember burned for a while yet, before it flickered out and gave in to the dark.
Davon Vanden
Navigator of the Aphelion
Message edited by Davon·Vanden - Thursday, 30 Jul 2015, 11:34 AM |
| |
|
|
|
