Outlaws of the Verse

It was a good half an hour, before Hilda seemed even vaguely interested in another candidate. But when she did, she kinda perked in her chair. It was a strange sight to see, coming from her.

A Twi'lek stepped over, taking a seat in front of them. She was a head shorter then Hilda, although far more beautiful. It was hard to find an ugly Twi'lek. She even had the rare blue skin, which was considered a sign of true beauty, for her normally green (or red) species. While the twin tentacles, from the back of her head, dangled to just past her waist.

There was something about her, Gene couldn't place it, but she just... felt... off...

"Hi," the Twi'lek bounced in her seat. All kinds of happy. "I'm Mew'pecaw, but all my friends call me Mew." She introduced herself, but didn't offer her hand.

Hilda grinned. "Don't see many Revanist, making their way as Outlaws."

The Twi'lek sighed, obviously wanting to keep, whatever a "Revanist" was, private. "Don't see many Force Sensitives, period," She confirmed, anyway. There were only a few thousand, in a galaxy of millions of trillions.

Hilda shrugged, "True enough."

The Twi'lek sighed. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not a fighter." Hilda did frown, hearing that. Mew continued, "Ya need to get into someone's head. I'm rather good at mind tricks. Best in my class. But my real talent is healing."

Hilda looked interested again, "Could always use a healer. Got any, more traditional, medical training?"

The Twi'lek snickered, "Revanist aren't that different from Jedi. Besides not kidnapping children, from their families, and not pretending we don't have emotions. By the time I was a Padawan, I had several doctorates worth of knowledge." She giggled. "I'd make a pretty spectacular science officer, counselor, and medical Doctor. And that's without any aid from the Force"

She winked. Although it wasn't as bizarre to see on a Twi'lek face, given they were almost human in their appearance, and mannerisms. "Not half bad at forging papers, either."

Hilda nodded, "So we established what you can do. But why do I need you on my crew."

The Twi'lek frowned.

"You don't expect me to hire you just cuz you got some talent." Hilda smirked. "Why do you WANT on my crew?"

Mew shrugged, "I'm a Revanist, I want to be able to help people, and make a little coin on the side."

Hilda sighed, clearly not liking that answer. She was about to dismiss the girl, and lose a very powerful asset... when Gene spoke up.

"Why don't you tell us the real reason," The ginger bordley demanded. "We got enough idiots boasting about wanting coin. Surely you've seen how many of them were thrown out."

The Revanist went quiet, showing there was something she was holding back... how could Hilda have missed that? She must have been too distracted by the fact the girl was a Force wielder. Too quick to brush her away, for fear of this being "Too good to be true".

Mew sighed, not knowing how to voice her feelings. The Revanist temple was more a school, then a permanent place to live. But it was true, Revanist tended to travel in groups. One master, with several apprentices under them. With many of the apprentices, having Padawans of their own.

The temple was really just a place to educate initiates. After they become Padawans... they rarely leave their Masters side. They may live similarly to Outlaws, or adventurers, but they weren't truly a part of those cultures.

"I recently completed my final trial, and have been promoted to Master," Mew explained. "That's normally a title earned after several lifetimes... I got it in three... though I think... it was too early. I'm supposed to spend a lifetime traveling the Galaxy. Get some Wisdom to go with my skill. Then, return to the Temple. Where I will get my own ship, along with a few eager apprentices to look after... It will be some time before I see my people again..." She was lonely. Hilda could see it in her eyes.

"We might not be Revanist," Hilda reminded. "But I want my boat to feel like a family. Suppose I'm just trying to recapture what my old crew had." She sighed, and Gene gave her a funny look.

Mew sighed, "Suppose I'm doing the same."

Hilda nodded, "You're hired."

•

The very next person to occupy the seat... was a humanoid... with a Monkey tail... and quills for hair.

Gene eyed the young man. Most of the people Hilda was hiring were young. People just starting out on their adventure (at least for this lifetime), and looking for a place to belong.

But this boy, "What could we possibly offer a Saiyan?" Gene demanded.

The boy scoffed.

"A lot I imagine," Hilda acknowledged. "Low Class?"

The, far from muscular, Saiyan sighed. "Yeah... not many ships see the value in a Saiyan that can't fight... as if that's all we're good for." He grumbled.

Hilda nodded, "The Saiyan clutches, offer some of the best trade schools in the Galaxy." She acknowledged, shocking the Saiyan that she knew that. "Mind telling me which you were placed in."

The Saiyan slowly smiled, "The Enchanters clutch. I specialize in Caster shells."

Gene jumped in his seat, "You can make Caster shells!?"

The Saiyan's smile became more cocky. "Well, I had to do something to make sure I wasn't a burden in a fight. Although they are mostly for my own use, I wouldn't mind sharing."

"You're hired- OW!!!" Gene yelped, after Hilda smacked him upside his head.

"I'm the one who decides that," Hilda calmly informed. Far too calmly.

Gene groaned, rubbing his head, "But-"

"Any half decent enchanter can make bootleg Caster Shells," She assured. "I'll get you in touch with some contacts, if you need it."

The Saiyan frowned.

"What's your name?" Hilda moved on.

"Pumpki," Informed the boy.

Hilda silently studied the barely grown child. Looking for something particular, in his inexperienced eyes.

"So why do you want to be an outlaw?" She demanded, in the sweetest voice possible.

The boy squirmed, under her gaze. Losing some of his Saiyan bravado. "I... I want to stop being underestimated." 'I want to belong somewhere' the boy thought.

Hilda seemed to overhear his unspoken words. She could see it, in his eyes. "You're hired."

•

A few ass-hats later. Hilda found someone else with that look in their eyes.

"Howdy," The Soong Android smiled. Looking very much like the famous Commander Data, a popular template for his people. He had slightly younger features, but kept that pale golden skin, and unnaturally straight hair. Although his dangled well passed his shoulders. "I'm Upgrade." Soong Androids did tend to have whimsical names.

Gene grinned, "I know a kid that love to meet you."

Hilda sighed, seeing the Synthetics questioning look, "Our Cabin-boy is a Technomancer."

The Android stiffened, more from shock then fear. An intrigued smile slowly spread across his lips. Technomancers were near holy, to Synthetic Lifeforms.

Gene wasn't really concerned with that. Instead, he eyed Hilda... wondering how she knew about Jim.

Upgrade, had no issue spilling all his family's dirty laundry. "I'm one of 10 thousand children." he shrugged. "Typically, an older Android adopts us, and takes a season to 'raise' us. I've been on my own for 2 seasons now.

"Tried going into Starfleet, like my nanny bot wanted... but it was so stuffy and restricting. I love the idea of living on a ship, sailing the Galaxy... but Starfleet isn't where I want to do that..."

Golden eyes studied Hilda's singular one. "I've been listening," The Android leaned forward. "All this noise might be too chaotic for organic ears, but mine are more suited to it. You don't want lackies, unlike these other Captains."

Gene looked around, just now spotting there were a few other Captain's, recruiting people.

"You want an actual crew, a family. Well, I want what your selling," Upgrade insisted. "I know I don't have much, or any, real experience, but I got access to the entire Extra Net, in my head. I would make a good technical officer, engineer, and whatever else you need. I can even help teach this Technomancer you got."

Hilda just had her usual, unreadable, smirk. Before saying, "You're in."