WARNING! AUDIO ONLY: NO TEXT READOUT!
*the low hum of a ship’s engine fills the recording’s first few seconds, along with the rustling sound of cloth on cloth. when she begins talking, her voice is clear, if a bit uncertain.*
I’ve heard the term whirlwind of emotions a hundred times before, but I never really knew what it meant until these last few weeks. Even more so the last twenty-four hours. I’ve gone from nervous, to calm, to angry, to curious, to furious, and back to… whatever this is. My normal default state.
*the cloth shifts again and she coughs slightly, then sniffs.*
I took a small nap before the dinner with Harith and Tybel. When I woke up, there was a message on my holocom.
It was Rythe.
Turns out he didn’t know his friend was trying to contact me. And he really did want to apologize. He and Rayza split a few days after he chose him. I have a sick little sense of schadenfreude over that.
He has information about my accident. The accident. Or so he said. I’m still not sure if I can fully trust him again. Unfortunately, my curiosity outweighs my anger on this particular subject.
*She sniffs again, fabric rustling.*
So I went to dinner and it was… it was amazing. I haven’t eaten that well in… I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever eaten that well. I’m so used to rations and cantina food and soup.
Harith and Tybel are both interesting men. Harith is almost… well, I can’t say emotionless, because he clearly cares very much for Tybel. He’s rather stoic, though. Tybel is a Miraluka. They both really liked my art, and Tybel gave me - or tried to give me - some insight on Miraluka culture, so I could figure out what Saeren’s game was.
*Her voice grows harder, slightly tinged with anger.*
Of course, I don’t particularly want to know, now.
He stole my shirt. My favorite shirt. Which means he had to come upstairs and into my quarters while I was sleeping. And he cut it up for a new covering for his eyes. That’s so not appropriate on so many different levels, the actual taking of the shirt itself being the least of them.
Worse than that, he insinuated that I would need help taking care of Tybel — right in front of him. ”You have my comm, contact me if you need help.” I’m sorry, but I can take care of myself, I know what I’m doing, and when it comes down to it I’m damn good at my job. For him to just blithely say that as though I were some little child trying to put together a model speeder, and in front of the person I’ve been hired on to guard?
I knew there was a reason I shouldn’t trust him.
*There’s a small flop-crunch, as though someone has fallen back onto pillows, and she sighs.*
At least Tybel’s nice. Even if he did decide to hug me and not let go when I asked.
So the year under contract shouldn’t be horrible.
I hope, anyway.
*With a click, the feed is silenced.*