Jax said the colors of House Tark were white and black and, having been to Karth, Rik could understand why. Well, the white anyway. It was the color of their entire planet. The ground was covered in a perpetual blanket of snow while the skies reflected the surface back. On and on and on it stretched. This wasn’t Rik’s first stint on the planet, nor would it be his last, but he wasn’t particularly happy to be there. Nevertheless, the lure of more potential ships had drawn him outside the warmth of the tavern. His scavenging had been brought to a sudden halt, however, when Owen sent an urgent message of an upcoming storm. He’d only had time to retrace his steps to a ship he’d pillaged the previous night before it hit.
Winds buffeted the pirate as he staggered against the door, ripping it open despite the winds pinning it in place - only to be greeted by the muzzle of Kira Zareen’s pistol. “Why do I even bother being surprised?” he drawled, resignedly, as he held up his hands. “I’m not armed, you know.” That wasn’t entirely true in the realest sense, but in Rik’s mind it was. At this point in his life, he didn’t expect a few knives to count as being armed. At least, not when he’d so blatantly walked into a gunfight.
A few tense moments of silence followed and he was about to tell her to just get it over with and shoot him already when her voice cut through the wind-rattled silence with a command. He didn’t question it, yanking the door back against to the wind, again, to a closed position, before producing from his clothing and sliding a long steel bar he’d scavenged earlier that day through the handles to bolt it shut.Â
“Cozy,” commented Rik, glancing over his shoulder towards the young woman. “I don’t want to make any sudden movements,” he added, eyeing her sheathed firearm. “You seem a little jumpy. But I think we’d both ultimately appreciate it if I built a fire, huh?” He didn’t wait for her to respond - if she was going to shoot him, she was going to shoot him - as he gathered a number of flammable objects - he clearly knew where to find them, already - and got down to it.
“So, what brings you ladies to Karth on such a pleasant day?” he added sarcastically as the wind moaned outside. It was on these moments that Rik most missed the Arvor of his childhood.
As the fire sparked to life, he settled into a sitting position, opposite her and gestured around. “You’re not going to find much here. I already stripped the place. But don’t worry,” he added with a wry grin. “You’ll get your hands on it next time you rob us blind.”Â
It was an odd kind of nod, perhaps, but Rik had respect for Azyriah and Kira. As someone who’d had to live off what he could take for most of his life, he couldn’t help appreciate efficiency. There was something so professional in the way they worked, it engendered respect. Of course, he’d generally spend the next few weeks cursing them as he eked out what he could from the engines to get to their next destination, but there was always enough - barely, but enough. The pair wasn’t out to screw the pirates; not completely. Rik had known many who would leave those from whom they’d stolen to die, but Kira and Azyriah had never been that.
Still, Rik wasn’t above jabbing her for it. He wasn’t above jabbing anyone. If he ever met a Quasar, he’d probably find something to mock him about. That was just Rik.
“So, Kira, huh?” he shrugged, holding up his hands once again in a gesture of peace. “What do you say to a truce for the night? It’s gonna be a long one and, I don’t know about you,” he added with a slow, wry smile, “But all I really want out of tonight is to not die on Karth.”