Hoth: Blood and Ice

Full of energy, as typical, Pipka makes his way to the goatery at 0500, just about the time when the kids would start getting up. Yep, some of his herd had been pregnant when he took custody and now he had new additions to the tribe. They were all happy, hale, and hearty, even if little Jolene was too small to nurse.

The goats gather round while he pushes his way into the room. Some people might complain about the smells, but with his acute olfactory senses, his pheromone receptors in particular, the odors brought nothing but calm emotions and pleasant associations to Pipka. He cooed and chittered to the goats and he spread out their food, keeping Jolene's bottle up in the air (as much as he was able to as his height) and away from the other goats. Once they had settled to their own food, he took Jolene to a pile of bedding away from the bigger goats. Kneeling down, he takes the minuscule goat into his lap and starts bottle feeding her.

After Jolene finishes her breakfast, they sit in peace for a few moments, the dull lull of contented bleats echoing through the room.

Soon, he would begin milking them and starting the day with the rest of the base, but for now, he was happy to live in the moment with his tribe.

His ortolan buddy was there with big hat and boots and said in ortolan, "It ain't much, but it's honest work."

Moyr had a distinct purpose for coming here. "Good morning. I am interested in about 200 litres of goatmilk." She observed the goats curiously, with unknown intentions.

While Gibzy Wizy Tik milked the goats, Pipka moved to welcome the new visitor. He recognized her from earlier on their mission, on their first day in the base. She was the one that had made Breela upset, but Pipka wouldn't hold that against her... yet.

"Good morning, Darth Bellious if I have heard correctly?" He does some quick maths after she states her request and replies, "We can manage 200 litres, but not until this evening." And the base will have to go without the puddings I'd planned for tomorrow's lunch, he thought.

"Can I ask what you need all that milk for?"

"Indeed. And this would be for personal use. Since I surmise I am not supposed to perform any hostile acquisitions, what credit compensation would be acceptable? And evening is fine, I guess, though... goat blood could be good to make up for lesser volume of milk if this makes it faster to meet 200 litres and you're willing to let it." Moyr calmly pondered.

Gibzy said in ortolan, "Why you need blood, you makin' blood puddin'?"

Moyr guessed intention rather than understood. "Something like that. I suppose I can call it comfort nutrition?"

Pipka listens attentively until the Twi'lek mentions goats' blood. His eyes glaze over and a close observer might notice some signs of past trauma.


He was silent a moment before responding, "No... no, we can't... We can't provide blood."

"We are a cruelty free all organic goat milking operation, wholly sustainable," Gibzy added in ortolan. "The trick to good milk is to massage the teat real soft like."

"The evening then, and 100% of goatmilk in goatmilk." Moyr shrugged.

Pipka snaps back to reality fully. "Okay, this evening, two hundred litres. One credit per litre, plus a ten percent bulk discount. That would be one hundred eighty credits."

"Let's pay it upfront, as recognition of your business integrity." Chits were passed.

Pipka beams as he accepts the chits. "Well, for a prepayment, I can offer complimentary delivery service. Where would you like this goats' milk delivered Darth Bellious?"

"To the cargo hold of the Bitch, thank you." Moyr smirked faintly. "You're quite the industrious one. Do you fly with the Turtle?"

"I wish I did some of the flying. I work the guns." He holds up his hands as through he were manning a gun turret, punctuated with sound effects of firing.

Then he looks a little embarrassed, not because of his excellent acting skills, but because of his lack of manners. "Sorry, I'm Pipka from the Turtle." He tips his recently acquired wide-brimmed hat along with his introduction.

"And I am Darth Bellious. A gunner, a goat herder, a businessman, who else are you, Pipka? Perhaps also a cheesemaker?" Moyr didn't seem to be minding the fluster.

His embarrassment is replaced by enthusiasm, "Oh yes, I have some very exciting cheeses. I've been experimenting with adding different spices, fruits, liquors, all sorts of things. Goat cheese can really go with anything.

I also run a little stand in the mess hall in the mornings after tending the goats, Hoth Chocolate. We offer a few caf and chocolate beverages served with goats' milk and some baked goods. Sgt. Dereegs usually has an omelette station or some other made to order breakfast."

"My favourite caf brand is Jimhol's Den. Do you have a supply? Regardless, I am going to purchase a fare of your goat cheeses. Those spicier ones which go well with wine."

"I leave the caf to Sgt. Dereegs. I'm not allowed to have caf in general, Nudimsu says it makes me bounce off the walls.

Oh, I've got the perfect spicy cheese for you. I call it the Last Daz. I call it the Last Daz cause it's a little extra just like Ya Boi Prince Daz. It's customary around here to do the Captain Alderaan Dance Challenge after you take a bite."

Moyr took a moment to process it, then laughed.

"Oh, Niall Organa should be taking my dance challenges, not the other way around. But I suppose he's grown into some kind of superstar in the Republic space. Social media, I suppose. I don't remember him as larger than life from that bar on the Smuggler's Moon. Of this Daz guy, I have honestly not heard. Another of the teen idols from across the galactic aisle? There seems to be a fondness for those. Can your celebrities even sing?"

"I don't know if he's done any singing. I mostly just see him dancing. The singing that's popular in the Republic and in the Empire always sound flat to me." He says while twitching his large ears.

"I haven't heard much good singing since I left Chad, except for Songbird. But with a name like Songbird, she better sing pretty good right? I really like listening to her songs. Even if they don't hit all the notes I like... what's behind the notes makes me feel something. Does that make sense?"

Moyr's golden eyes glinted. She decided to answer to the concern with a song.

"As a child I would dream of the bottom of the sea
If I swam deep enough, there was air to breathe
A world between worlds where anything could be
They were hanging out, partying' fancy free
All sorts of souls in all the colours you could dream
And no one ever spoke except to say to me:
Are you listening?
Are you listening?
Are you listening?
There's a song that plays for you, can't you see?
You wrote the music, you sing the melody."

[The original song.]

She stopped there with a small smile.

For a moment, fear gripped Pipka. What was it with offworlders and their obsession with water. How did so many of them attribute peace, freedom, and do many other positive qualities or hopes to it? It was a thing to be feared, a silent power waiting to crush all around it without mercy.

Despite that initial scare, the despair he started to sink into, or maybe driven by it, the rest of the song illicited feelings of hope, of possibilities, of being in control.

"I will admit it is a beautiful song that makes me feel... something I can't quite put my finger on. I wouldn't mind hearing more."

Moyr's brow arched. She decided to indulge the Chadra, though she hadn't yet composed the lyrics any further yet. But it came to her. Not what she'd come up with more deliberately. It was a strange inspiration, perhaps influenced by the spiritual conundrum of the nature of the Eternal Empire.

"Now on the other side, I still believe
If you swim down deep enough there's room to breathe
Yeah there's dark but there's light and there's gold in between
And in the gold I'm told's a door for you
One that only opens for eyes anew
To a world where love is the only truth
Are you listening?
Are you listening?
Are you listening?
There's a song that plays for you, can't you see?
You write the music, you sing the melody."

[Sith] "I never expected to hear such a beautiful and hopeful song from a Sith. There wasn't much music from my masters." He says somberly.

He then shifts and brings his arms up to replicate the subtle movement of lekku, [Twi'leki] "Or is it perhaps from your Twi'lek side that you found this beautiful music?"