06-04-2016, 08:55 AM
The two of them sat in the police car as it sped through the dunes.
Carmelita had summoned the vehicle the night before they set off, drawing on the vehicles she’d seen in Coruscant and the familiar patrol car of the Parisian gendarmerie. It couldn’t fly, but it did hover off the ground like the hoverbikes she’d seen occasionally ridden in the Town.
Carmelita was at the wheel, Chip carrying the map in the passenger seat. She glanced over to see Chip looking ahead with a conflicted expression.
“Chip, you okay?”
“Huh? Oh, yes, everything’s fine…”
Frowning, Carmelita turned back to the desert. Ahead of them, looming from the desert sands, a small metal shack came into view. She pulled up and stepped out of the air-conditioned vehicle into the scorching heat.
The pair looked at each other before surveying their surroundings. There were a few wooden fences, partially buried in the sand, and the door to the shack was jammed shut with sand. Carmelita summoned a shovel and started digging out the rusted entrance.
After a short while, the heat bearing down on the both of them, she’d cleared the door of debris. Opening the door with a scrape, the two of them peered inside.
Carmelita’s eyes were slow to adjust to the dark. It took her a moment to realise she was still wearing sunglasses, and after removing them she could see more easily. The interior was filled, not with the insides of a desert shack, but with a large quantity of heavy machinery and a lift in the corner, white and blue plastic and paint all around. Despite the boiling temperatures, the air inside was somehow cool, and Carmelita stepped cautiously inside with Chip behind her.
She took out her shock pistol and clicked on the flashlight. Chip’s hand rested on her shoulder, the girl staying close as the two of them examined what they could find.
There was a layer of dust that lay over everything. Carmelita extended a hand and wiped the coarse particles from a sign, revealing a logo. The words had long been eroded, but the cracked blue paint still made a symbol of a circular shutter, half open. The heavy machinery was indecipherable to Carmelita, and she handed Chip her shock pistol to allow her to look more closely.
As Chip began examining the machinery, Carmelita looked back at the door. The desert outside was blindingly bright, the contrast between outside and inside incredibly obvious. She stifled a sneeze.
“Anything useful?” she asked.
“No,” came the terse reply.
There was a period of silence.
“... Chip, are you-”
“Yes, I’m fine!”
Carmelita stayed quiet after that.
---
An hour later, Chip had final deemed the amount of salvage obtainable without exploring whatever lay underground was negligible. Carmelita, not eager to put effort into a location unsuitable for their needs, decided they should keep moving.
As she started up the patrol car, she turned up the air conditioning to full blast. The short walk through the desert air had already made her fur curl, and she panted hard for a few moments, basking in the colder air.
The vehicle lurched into the air slightly, sand blowing away as the hoverpads activated. She pulled away, heading for the next point on their search path.
As they drove, Carmelita pondered the girl besides her. Whatever was causing her grief was clearly making her terse and tense, but Carmelita didn’t know what that might be. When she thought about it, she knew practically nothing about Chip other than she’d been captured by raiders and had an incredible mechanical aptitude.
“Where are you from, Chip?” she asked, trying to start a conversation.
“Where am I from?!” came the explosive reply. “Where am I from?! Now you ask! It’s been five, six days and you think you don’t know enough about me. Newsflash, Inspector, I know even less about you. Hell, you haven’t even mentioned the fact you’re married!”
Carmelita gasped, clenching her hand and feeling her wedding ring, images of Sly flashing through her mind.
“Surprised? I’m not an idiot. Anyway, tomorrow we can head back to the Town. I’ll get out of your hair.”
Carmelita couldn’t reply, only continuing to drive.
---
That night they holed up in an abandoned gas station that had avoided being subsumed by sand. Carmelita headed out into the cold.
Once she was far enough away, she sat down and began crying. For the first time since Sly had fallen from her life, she let herself cry.
Carmelita had summoned the vehicle the night before they set off, drawing on the vehicles she’d seen in Coruscant and the familiar patrol car of the Parisian gendarmerie. It couldn’t fly, but it did hover off the ground like the hoverbikes she’d seen occasionally ridden in the Town.
Carmelita was at the wheel, Chip carrying the map in the passenger seat. She glanced over to see Chip looking ahead with a conflicted expression.
“Chip, you okay?”
“Huh? Oh, yes, everything’s fine…”
Frowning, Carmelita turned back to the desert. Ahead of them, looming from the desert sands, a small metal shack came into view. She pulled up and stepped out of the air-conditioned vehicle into the scorching heat.
The pair looked at each other before surveying their surroundings. There were a few wooden fences, partially buried in the sand, and the door to the shack was jammed shut with sand. Carmelita summoned a shovel and started digging out the rusted entrance.
After a short while, the heat bearing down on the both of them, she’d cleared the door of debris. Opening the door with a scrape, the two of them peered inside.
Carmelita’s eyes were slow to adjust to the dark. It took her a moment to realise she was still wearing sunglasses, and after removing them she could see more easily. The interior was filled, not with the insides of a desert shack, but with a large quantity of heavy machinery and a lift in the corner, white and blue plastic and paint all around. Despite the boiling temperatures, the air inside was somehow cool, and Carmelita stepped cautiously inside with Chip behind her.
She took out her shock pistol and clicked on the flashlight. Chip’s hand rested on her shoulder, the girl staying close as the two of them examined what they could find.
There was a layer of dust that lay over everything. Carmelita extended a hand and wiped the coarse particles from a sign, revealing a logo. The words had long been eroded, but the cracked blue paint still made a symbol of a circular shutter, half open. The heavy machinery was indecipherable to Carmelita, and she handed Chip her shock pistol to allow her to look more closely.
As Chip began examining the machinery, Carmelita looked back at the door. The desert outside was blindingly bright, the contrast between outside and inside incredibly obvious. She stifled a sneeze.
“Anything useful?” she asked.
“No,” came the terse reply.
There was a period of silence.
“... Chip, are you-”
“Yes, I’m fine!”
Carmelita stayed quiet after that.
---
An hour later, Chip had final deemed the amount of salvage obtainable without exploring whatever lay underground was negligible. Carmelita, not eager to put effort into a location unsuitable for their needs, decided they should keep moving.
As she started up the patrol car, she turned up the air conditioning to full blast. The short walk through the desert air had already made her fur curl, and she panted hard for a few moments, basking in the colder air.
The vehicle lurched into the air slightly, sand blowing away as the hoverpads activated. She pulled away, heading for the next point on their search path.
As they drove, Carmelita pondered the girl besides her. Whatever was causing her grief was clearly making her terse and tense, but Carmelita didn’t know what that might be. When she thought about it, she knew practically nothing about Chip other than she’d been captured by raiders and had an incredible mechanical aptitude.
“Where are you from, Chip?” she asked, trying to start a conversation.
“Where am I from?!” came the explosive reply. “Where am I from?! Now you ask! It’s been five, six days and you think you don’t know enough about me. Newsflash, Inspector, I know even less about you. Hell, you haven’t even mentioned the fact you’re married!”
Carmelita gasped, clenching her hand and feeling her wedding ring, images of Sly flashing through her mind.
“Surprised? I’m not an idiot. Anyway, tomorrow we can head back to the Town. I’ll get out of your hair.”
Carmelita couldn’t reply, only continuing to drive.
---
That night they holed up in an abandoned gas station that had avoided being subsumed by sand. Carmelita headed out into the cold.
Once she was far enough away, she sat down and began crying. For the first time since Sly had fallen from her life, she let herself cry.