Silence
Anonymous Me
It was almost impossible not to feel a little anxious. Illya slipped into the one shirt he had that helped make him look a little more presentable. Combing through his hair with a hand he frowned and combed through the unruly wings and curls of hair again a little more furiously this time. Grumbling a little under his breath he barely stepped out the door of the washroom and he saw his mother standing in front of him. She had that serious look on her face.
"You're going out to meet with the contact dressed like that?" The woman looked him up and down. "If you're to represent the Chippeqouti I must insist that you wear something that is more suitable."
Reluctantly Illya shuffled down the hall in front of his mother. Every now and then she would nudge him with one of her fingers. She still had her way of making a blunt fingertip feel plenty sharp. "I won't have my son representing us and looking like some rat. We might be exiled, but we don't have to look like it. Your father has some clothing I'm sure will fit you." They barely reached the bunk room and the woman pulled a bag out from underneath her bed. "Illya!" The woman gave her son a sharp expression and then began setting out plain olive pants and an olive shirt with a brown belt. "This will be much better." Getting up off her knees she started for the bunk room door again. "Remember what I taught you as a boy." She knew he did, but she wanted for him to act as he did when he was younger. Illya was more than capable of being a diplomat if he wanted to be.
While his mother dug into the bag Illya watched. That was until she scolded him. Quickly he began to pull his shirt off. By the time his mother was headed out the door Illya had both his boots off and he was starting to scramble out of his pants. When he emerged from the room a few minutes later he had placed his clothing, folded on the bed that he had recently occupied.
When he stepped out the Chippeqouti almost looked like a soldier. Twisting from side to side he loosened the shirt that had been tucked in so it wouldn't feel quite as tight as it had before. Lifting each leg he made sure the pant legs weren't too tight. There was a slight gathering of fabric above the tops of his usual brown boots. With a final attempt at smoothing his hair he took a deep breath and then pushed the door open. A brief glance from his mother and then he knew that she approved. In many ways it was a strange moment. Felt almost like it had years ago when the war started. He remembered putting on his uniform which wasn't all that different looking from this set of clothing he was borrowing. The main difference was the fact that it was camouflage and bore traces of the red to blend with the sands.
Stepping out of the ship Illya squinted a little. He hadn't expected for it to be so bright outside. Feeling along his pockets he realized that he had left his money in the other room. Wandering back into the ship and then the bunk room he dug into the pant pockets and then into the pouch that he had set aside as well. Taking a few large steps he nearly ran into the girl. Putting one hand out he caught her by the shoulder and stepped around her before turning toward the woman again. "Here, I owe yah for clothes and yah worked for a little wage." Opening the pouch Illya sighed. Even if Kalizda wasn't here he figured she would want him to give the woman enough to start over if she wanted. "How much yah thhink yah earn?"
Mostly startled by the man coming around the corner so quickly and then being whipped about like a rag doll she stared at Illya stupidly. Even when he seemed to be getting impatient she continued to stare at him in shock.
Finally Illya shoved a few hundred into her hands and then sighed. "Alright. I give yah 5 thousand credits. That enough to get yah started?"
Nodding a little the woman watched, mostly stunned as he walked away from her. In her tiny hands she held tightly a good sum of money to pay for some clothes and to get a start. What she would do with the money she wasn't sure, but she knew she didn't want to be here on this ship any longer. Soon as the man was out of sight the girl ducked off board and slipped into the streets.
******************************************************
Illya was finally outside and this time he was ready for the sunlight. Though it was strange feeling to be in these kinds of clothes again it was nice at the same time. Loading into the seat of the small transport sent his heart into the back of his throat. Not that Illya would tell Kalizda or anyone else, but he didn't like riding in these tiny sardine cans. They were way too small and though this one was larger his knees were mashed against the seat in front of himself.
While they sped over the land Illya tried to keep his eyes on the immediate sky above them. He didn't want to peer over the edge and regret the decision though it was beginning to get more tempting. Cautiously the Chippeqouti leaned to the side and his eyes widened. Below them was a wide girth of water and the golden fields with red tips below. Swallowing hard he clenched both hands into fists and kept his jaw tightly closed while looking ahead. As hard as he tried not to frown there was one growing on his face, mostly because he was doing his best not to reveal that he was struggling to keep his last meal in his stomach.
By the time they landed he was scrambling to get out of the small craft. Illya shot an accusing glance toward the troublesome piece of machinery. The first few steps away from it left him teetering. When he regained his balance and all his faculties the Chippeqouti carefully squared his shoulders and tried to be as proper as he knew how. If he was to be here representing his people then it was only right that he do it with as much grace as possible. Displaying military strength was far easier, though it was not quiet as efficient in terms of negotiating. There were times when Illya wondered why he ever tried to learn to negotiate. Most of the time it didn't turn out quite as productive as he thought it would.
As Illya lifted his gaze he noticed the streets ahead of them were filled with people and merchants. It was so rich. This kind of wealth he hadn't seen in years. Things like this hadn't been in his home since he was a boy. Staring almost straight ahead at a linen merchant's stall Illya ran into something and he felt it give way. Reaching out he grasped for whatever it was and pulled a man up off the ground. "Sorry." His accent came out strangely thick as he was barely keeping track of what he was seeing.
While he was busy helping the man off the ground a woman hiked her skirt up her legs dangerously high and beckoned to Illya. Pausing part way through helping the man off the ground Illya narrowed his eyes slightly and glanced around to see who she would be making such a lewd gesture to. Since he didn't see anyone he assumed they had already responded and he missed it. Instead he glanced back around and saw that she was still smiling and beckoned at him again. A deep red crept to the tips of Illya's tanned ears and began to crawl across his cheek bones. Turning sharply he bumped into another person and quickly tried to apologize.
For the time it seemed that he had averted disaster. The crowds were pressing in tight and Illya did his best to keep his eyes down so he didn't run into anyone else though that didn't turn out well when they got stuck against oncoming masses. A woman ended up pressed against him and he found himself staring at her cleavage. Normally he wouldn't have thought much, but it was different seeing it versus staring or intentionally seeing and being in such close proximity. Clearing his throat he raised his gaze again. He could only hope that the woman moved soon and that wherever they were going would be close. Taking a deep breath Illya decided to move his hands to rest behind his back. A strange grunt and growl sounded from behind just before someone shoved him.
"Keep your hands to yourself or find a whore!" The man yelled and shot daggers at Illya with his gaze.
With such a public embarrassment it was all Illya could do not to challenge the man for such a disgraceful statement. In such a crowded space he hadn't thought that simply putting his hands behind himself would result in accidentally making contact with another person. Shaking his head Illya pasted his arms to the side of his body and he let out a long breath. No sooner had he recovered from the fresh blush that traced his cheeks than a warm body pressed itself against him and a woman's hand ran along his chest. Instantly the Chip could feel the red return to his cheeks and he put one hand on each shoulder of the woman and turned her so that her back was to him. "I dun wan yah. Jes go along. Here for business onleh."
"You're going out to meet with the contact dressed like that?" The woman looked him up and down. "If you're to represent the Chippeqouti I must insist that you wear something that is more suitable."
Reluctantly Illya shuffled down the hall in front of his mother. Every now and then she would nudge him with one of her fingers. She still had her way of making a blunt fingertip feel plenty sharp. "I won't have my son representing us and looking like some rat. We might be exiled, but we don't have to look like it. Your father has some clothing I'm sure will fit you." They barely reached the bunk room and the woman pulled a bag out from underneath her bed. "Illya!" The woman gave her son a sharp expression and then began setting out plain olive pants and an olive shirt with a brown belt. "This will be much better." Getting up off her knees she started for the bunk room door again. "Remember what I taught you as a boy." She knew he did, but she wanted for him to act as he did when he was younger. Illya was more than capable of being a diplomat if he wanted to be.
While his mother dug into the bag Illya watched. That was until she scolded him. Quickly he began to pull his shirt off. By the time his mother was headed out the door Illya had both his boots off and he was starting to scramble out of his pants. When he emerged from the room a few minutes later he had placed his clothing, folded on the bed that he had recently occupied.
When he stepped out the Chippeqouti almost looked like a soldier. Twisting from side to side he loosened the shirt that had been tucked in so it wouldn't feel quite as tight as it had before. Lifting each leg he made sure the pant legs weren't too tight. There was a slight gathering of fabric above the tops of his usual brown boots. With a final attempt at smoothing his hair he took a deep breath and then pushed the door open. A brief glance from his mother and then he knew that she approved. In many ways it was a strange moment. Felt almost like it had years ago when the war started. He remembered putting on his uniform which wasn't all that different looking from this set of clothing he was borrowing. The main difference was the fact that it was camouflage and bore traces of the red to blend with the sands.
Stepping out of the ship Illya squinted a little. He hadn't expected for it to be so bright outside. Feeling along his pockets he realized that he had left his money in the other room. Wandering back into the ship and then the bunk room he dug into the pant pockets and then into the pouch that he had set aside as well. Taking a few large steps he nearly ran into the girl. Putting one hand out he caught her by the shoulder and stepped around her before turning toward the woman again. "Here, I owe yah for clothes and yah worked for a little wage." Opening the pouch Illya sighed. Even if Kalizda wasn't here he figured she would want him to give the woman enough to start over if she wanted. "How much yah thhink yah earn?"
Mostly startled by the man coming around the corner so quickly and then being whipped about like a rag doll she stared at Illya stupidly. Even when he seemed to be getting impatient she continued to stare at him in shock.
Finally Illya shoved a few hundred into her hands and then sighed. "Alright. I give yah 5 thousand credits. That enough to get yah started?"
Nodding a little the woman watched, mostly stunned as he walked away from her. In her tiny hands she held tightly a good sum of money to pay for some clothes and to get a start. What she would do with the money she wasn't sure, but she knew she didn't want to be here on this ship any longer. Soon as the man was out of sight the girl ducked off board and slipped into the streets.
******************************************************
Illya was finally outside and this time he was ready for the sunlight. Though it was strange feeling to be in these kinds of clothes again it was nice at the same time. Loading into the seat of the small transport sent his heart into the back of his throat. Not that Illya would tell Kalizda or anyone else, but he didn't like riding in these tiny sardine cans. They were way too small and though this one was larger his knees were mashed against the seat in front of himself.
While they sped over the land Illya tried to keep his eyes on the immediate sky above them. He didn't want to peer over the edge and regret the decision though it was beginning to get more tempting. Cautiously the Chippeqouti leaned to the side and his eyes widened. Below them was a wide girth of water and the golden fields with red tips below. Swallowing hard he clenched both hands into fists and kept his jaw tightly closed while looking ahead. As hard as he tried not to frown there was one growing on his face, mostly because he was doing his best not to reveal that he was struggling to keep his last meal in his stomach.
By the time they landed he was scrambling to get out of the small craft. Illya shot an accusing glance toward the troublesome piece of machinery. The first few steps away from it left him teetering. When he regained his balance and all his faculties the Chippeqouti carefully squared his shoulders and tried to be as proper as he knew how. If he was to be here representing his people then it was only right that he do it with as much grace as possible. Displaying military strength was far easier, though it was not quiet as efficient in terms of negotiating. There were times when Illya wondered why he ever tried to learn to negotiate. Most of the time it didn't turn out quite as productive as he thought it would.
As Illya lifted his gaze he noticed the streets ahead of them were filled with people and merchants. It was so rich. This kind of wealth he hadn't seen in years. Things like this hadn't been in his home since he was a boy. Staring almost straight ahead at a linen merchant's stall Illya ran into something and he felt it give way. Reaching out he grasped for whatever it was and pulled a man up off the ground. "Sorry." His accent came out strangely thick as he was barely keeping track of what he was seeing.
While he was busy helping the man off the ground a woman hiked her skirt up her legs dangerously high and beckoned to Illya. Pausing part way through helping the man off the ground Illya narrowed his eyes slightly and glanced around to see who she would be making such a lewd gesture to. Since he didn't see anyone he assumed they had already responded and he missed it. Instead he glanced back around and saw that she was still smiling and beckoned at him again. A deep red crept to the tips of Illya's tanned ears and began to crawl across his cheek bones. Turning sharply he bumped into another person and quickly tried to apologize.
For the time it seemed that he had averted disaster. The crowds were pressing in tight and Illya did his best to keep his eyes down so he didn't run into anyone else though that didn't turn out well when they got stuck against oncoming masses. A woman ended up pressed against him and he found himself staring at her cleavage. Normally he wouldn't have thought much, but it was different seeing it versus staring or intentionally seeing and being in such close proximity. Clearing his throat he raised his gaze again. He could only hope that the woman moved soon and that wherever they were going would be close. Taking a deep breath Illya decided to move his hands to rest behind his back. A strange grunt and growl sounded from behind just before someone shoved him.
"Keep your hands to yourself or find a whore!" The man yelled and shot daggers at Illya with his gaze.
With such a public embarrassment it was all Illya could do not to challenge the man for such a disgraceful statement. In such a crowded space he hadn't thought that simply putting his hands behind himself would result in accidentally making contact with another person. Shaking his head Illya pasted his arms to the side of his body and he let out a long breath. No sooner had he recovered from the fresh blush that traced his cheeks than a warm body pressed itself against him and a woman's hand ran along his chest. Instantly the Chip could feel the red return to his cheeks and he put one hand on each shoulder of the woman and turned her so that her back was to him. "I dun wan yah. Jes go along. Here for business onleh."