revivalproject | Cobb's Event Catch All

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Cobb's Event Catch All | Open

WHO: Cobb Vanth & All
WHERE: Various locations across Coruscant.
WHAT: Adventures across the planet
WHEN: Event
WARNINGS: Cussing. Angst. Possible violence. Will update as necessary.

This was not how Cobb imagined his first time off Tatooine. Then again, with his history, maybe he should have expected his first trip in space and to a Core world would be against his will. These Agrii fellas needed to learn to ask for permission. He would've said yes if they had asked. Instead, there was a little bubble of resentment brewing towards their alien captors.

But that anger could wait. A lot of people here had no idea how to navigate any planet in the galaxy much less one like Coruscant. Stars, even Cobb was a little out of his element but at least he could read the writing and understand how things worked in general. The first thing he focused on was getting everyone else settled and comfortable to go around by themselves. It was a lot of explaining how credit worked and offering to help if anyone needed it.

It took a few days before Cobb disappeared on his own one morning. The credits provided by the Agrii and the few he had on him when he got taken were burning a hole in his pocket. He went to the market and found himself some pieces of durasteel armor and a padded armor suit to wear underneath. It was, without a doubt, the nicest thing Cobb had ever owned, gleaming a brass-gold color against the black padded suit and soft green cloak he also bought to hide the scars that peeked out from the suit.

Damn if he didn't feel guilty for the two-thousand credits he handed over to buy it.

He just couldn't help but think of all the necessary things he could buy for home or this group of people at that cost. Two thousand credits would never got that far on Tatooine where everything was so damn expensive but it could've done something good. But after putting it all on he looked like he belonged on a Core world instead of an outsider in ragged clothes. Clothes he kept because they were still good enough for home and no one wasted anything on Tatooine. The armor though... wearing it he felt... like someone important and wasn't that a heavy thing?

Not only did the armor protect him and help him blend in, now he could get into better bars and taverns where they played high stakes sabacc. Cobb had learned his numbers playing the card game and was damn good at it. Good enough to win games against rich fools who tossed credits around like they could be dug up from the sand. That real vindictive part of himself really enjoyed it.

And everything he won now went to what they'd need to survive and anyone else who needed a few spare credits.

After all, he could always win more.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Echo's nose wrinkled slightly. One, 'melon' and 'milk' sounded like they didn't belong in the same sentence. And two: "They have control over an important resource? That isn't fair."

When one wasn't actively a soldier, they had other jobs. Officers, pilots, engineers, custodians. Those were all still related to the GAR, however.

A sideways glance was cast Cobb's way. "What did you try doing?"

Cobb laughed bitterly. "Nothin' on Tatooine is fair, my friend. If the Hutts don't own it, some other crime syndicate does. If they don't, they Empire did. There are very few free places back home."

What did Echo think? That things had gotten better since the war he fought? No, the galaxy was a mess. It was even worse for Outer rim planets where no one cared about anything but profit.

The question made him pause. How much to reveal to this man? That was always the question, wasn't it? "A few things. Eventually settled on being a Marshal for a small town. Freetown we like to call it. One of those rare free places."

Echo thought, but it was all within a limited space. Everything he did focused on what he knew as the present, on what he had to do to live to fight another day. Now being nowhere near that present, there was too much time. Too much to think about.

During the war, Republic forces were already spread thin across the galaxy. They did get to the Outer Rim, Tatooine wasn't fully involved in the theaters that took place out there.

Still, it was hard to hear that nothing changed.

He allowed himself a faint laugh when Cobb spoke again, letting his other thoughts subside. "Marshal. That explains everything."

"Oh?" Cobb glanced at him, eyebrow raised but expression cautious. He wasn't sure if that comment would go his way or not. This was really the only conversation where they'd really gotten to know each other.

And it was a good conversation. Cobb's tempter didn't make him shove his foot in his mouth or his foot up Echo's ass. That was a win when he couldn't fully suppress the instinctive fear and anger every time he saw that white armor.

But he still expected people to see him and think 'worthless' which he knew he wasn't but a lifetime of being nothing to most people stuck with a man. He didn't know if Echo assessment of him would be good or bad.

Instinct said bad. Optimism said good.

It did sound like a setup for something bad. Along with being repetitive, Echo used to have a habit of pointing out everything his batchmates did wrong during their training days. He had since been better about it, but he still called things as he saw it.

Fortunately, optimism gained a point in that regard.

"The way you took charge back there," he explained, thumbing back in the general direction of the bar. "Even outnumbered, you still fought. Not everyone has the guts to do that in the face of being intimidated."

"Not my first bar fight." Cobb relaxed a little. Okay, they seemed to have a little respect going on here. He didn't have to prove himself somehow which he almost always expected it.

He rubbed a hand over his beard. "You know, looked like you didn't get a chance to enjoy your drink back there. I got a bottle of spotchka back at the ship. You want crack it open?"

Truth was Cobb had more than a few bottles in the cargo of the First Breath but he was willing to split one with Echo. Share a few glasses. It was a pretty good nod of approval from Cobb to share a drink.

The clone blinked. "–Eh, it's just one drink. Nothing to cry over." He was about to dismiss the invitation, but he took a second to rethink his decision.

Cobb was offering. And they've been talking; despite the pauses, the friction was almost nonexistent.

In short, it was a vast improvement from their first interaction. The spotchka could be a celebratory step in their progress.

"...Why not. Let's do it."

"Spoken like a man who's always got something to drink." The common Tatooine saying about off worlders probably didn't have the same ring to it now. Cobb still shook his head about someone turning down a drink.

Luckily, Echo seemed to rethink the answer. Cobb nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Otherwise I gotta drink alone and people are gonna start talkin'."

He definitely wanted to drink a little, numb the ache in his ribs and the wound to his pride. They could sit around the hangar and drink, maybe more people join in.

It still made some sense. He came from Kamino, after all.

The clone snorted, not bothering to hide the smirk. "I'm sure no one'll notice."

"I'd never get away with it at home. Someone would join me or ask if I was alright if I drank alone." If he wanted privacy Cobb had to stay home and even then the door was open if there was a need for the Marshal.

When they reached the hangar Cobb pointed a finger at Echo. "Wait here. It'll just be a moment."

He walked up the ramp of First Breath and was gone for a few minutes because he washed his face of blood. When he came back out he had a faintly glowing bottle and two cups.

Brown eyes briefly fell on the finger, but Echo nodded all the same. "Take your time. I have no other plans to leave any time soon."

The good thing about hangars was that there were always crates around. They were pretty multi-purpose when not being used as storage. By the time Cobb returned, the clone was seated on one of them, his helmet placed to one side as he checked some of his gear.

"Oh good. That wasn't as bad as I thought it was," he said upon seeing no visible scarring on Cobb's clean face.

The only scar on Cobb's face was along the right side, old, and pale enough that it blended in with his hair where it stretched back over his ear. The biggest problem he'd have were a few bruises and a little swelling.

"Ah, like I said, I've had worse." He set the cups on the crate and opened the spotchka, pouring generously. "Landed right in the middle of some bandits once. Now that was a fight."

Granted, he has beskar on at the time but that armor hadn't covered everything. He got a nice scar on his side for that one. He raised the cup at Echo in a toast and took a drink. "Thanks for the rescue."

Depending on the person or clone, scars were like badges. And a few bruises never killed anyone as far as Echo knew.

"You're welcome," he said with a smile, raising his glass at the same time. "Although I'm sure you had it."

After taking a sip, he had to ask. "How many bandits were there?"

"Five. Just a pocket of a larger syndicate. Just my bad luck to stumble on 'em." Cobb's voice took on a more jovial tone, falling into the role of a storyteller. "They were lookin' to steal some explosives from the mine stash. And here's one lone Marshal suddenly in their midst. I was the faster draw."

He grinned with a sharp edge, something dangerous and dark in it.

"I got winged by a blaster shot right here." He pointed to his side. The beskar hadn't covered that low. "But they were dead and I wasn't when the dust settled."

The ARC Trooper leaned forward, his drink still in hand as Cobb told his story. He was like a child, wide-eyed and letting their imagination set up the scene; like a soldier who listened in on one of his brother's tall tales, not caring too much if it was true or not.

There was something about the way it unfolded: familiar because it dealt with violence, more personal because it was on a smaller scale instead of focusing on a broader perspective.

Bonus points also went into the style of the retelling but the truth was present, especially when it came to any wounds acquired from a fight like that. Echo breathed a laugh. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here tellin' me all of this?"

Oh, it's a war Cobb Vanth was waging on Tatooine. One of these days the planet would be free and he would have a hand in it. Even that small fight with bandits was one step closer to it.

"Probably not. One of these days it'll catch up with me. Especially without the armor I wore back then but in the meantime just gonna keep survivin'." He had never done anything else with his life but survive.

He was rather amused by Echo's eagerness. "How good is that stuff you wear?" he asked, nodding towards the helmet.

"That I get. We're always living to fight another day, too." Death was inevitable, but if they were still around, they had a pretty good streak going for them. "Maybe you'll even get another set of armor in the meantime."

Speaking of armor, Echo glanced down at himself and then at his helmet. The latter was turned so that its painted U-shaped stripes, crest, and patches were visible to Cobb. "It's plastoid, but it's reinforced," he said. "Durable enough to keep a clone alive in combat yet not impervious against serious or fatal attacks."

"I bought some durasteel here. Just don't wear it all the time." It made him stand out too much in his opinion. People looked differently at him when he was dressed well. Cobb didn't know what to do with the feeling of being something he's not.

Reinforced plastoid probably would've been good enough, now that he thought about it but it was one of those things that reminded him of the Empire and had been as expensive as durasteel back home.

"Bet it feels a lot lighter than what I got. And has more fancy toys."

Echo approved of the choice. "It'll do in a pinch in tight spots." Durasteel was heavier, but it was better to have something than nothing in a firefight.

But Cobb assumed correctly. "Kaminoans may not know what comfort means, but they had the right idea," he admitted. "This is the standard kit with Advanced Recon perks. Winged pauldrons, more plating, the kama. A pair of DC-17s and extra munitions along with a survival pack added to the weight, but it's not so bad." Because he was used to wearing everything by now. "And everything's custom-painted – which is probably against regulations, but no one's ever stopped us..."

He drank the rest of his spotchka, sighing as he looked into the empty glass. He then glanced over at the Marshal. "That scar," he quietly observed, indicating the line running along the right side of Cobb's face. "How'd you end up with it?"

He got the winged pauldrons part but after that it all sort of went over Cobb's head. He didn't know what a DC-17 was or where to look on Echo's armor for them. He nodded along like he understood though. He didn't like to look stupid whenever possible.

At the question something dark and heavy passed over Cobb's face before he drank the rest of his spotchka in one go. "That's not a good story," he said as he poured himself a second drink. "Maybe another time."

It was never a good time to talk about slavery or the chip an amateur surgeon had pulled out of his head. He might never tell that story.

Specs weren't everyone's thing. Echo just went the extra mile with the information he did read up on. Regulation manuals used to be a big part of his pastime when he was a shiny new trooper.

The expression that crossed Cobb's features wasn't lost on him. He had seen other clones bear similar looks whenever seemingly innocuous subjects arose during their downtime, and if Cobb didn't want to talk about it he didn't have to.

After a pause, he nodded. "...Another time, then."

The only specs Cobb could talk about with confidence were all specs for mining equipment and oil refining machinery. Definitely not worth getting into detail on those.

He was a little surprised, honestly, that Echo didn’t press. And his growing respect for the soldier grew just a little bit more. His shoulders relaxed and he went back to sipping his spotchka.

“Appreciate that,” he said with a little nod. “So... before I interrupted your night out, what were your plans while we’re here?”

It still would have been a little interesting to Echo. Maybe it wouldn't be as useful to him in the long run, but he'd learn something new.

During pause, he helps himself to some more spotchka, setting the bottle down when Cobb comes back around to speaking.

He hums into his glass, lowering it a few inches from where it used to sit. "Truthfully? I didn't have much of a plan. When we all got the message, I was more concerned about how everyone would fare upon landing. Once we found out things weren't as we thought, I was just told to go and enjoy myself." He drinks down half, setting the rest down on his thigh plate. "So far I've only bought some items and clothing as stock in case we have any other people joining us on Temba."

"I was told there's winter so if you don't have cold weather gear you might want to get some." Cobb had his new cloak and armor but he had also bought a lot of thicker clothes and scarves to cope with what they might find when he got back. Bad weather. Deep cold. Cobb didn't know what to expect with winter.

"The kid didn't tell me how cold but I'm not looking forward to it." Spending his whole life under two suns meant he'd only been cold at night. Cold when the sun was up? That seemed impossible.

There were whole planets of ice and snow out there. Cobb had never seen them but he knew they existed. He hoped that wasn't what they'd return to.

"That's a good idea. The cold isn't always great unless you're acclimated to it."

Echo's only familiar with 'rain' cold and 'space' cold. The former at least falls into the category of 'bad weather' so he has that covered, ponchos included. But it never hurts to have some heavier articles of clothing on hand in case things get worse.

"Which kid?"

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