One Step at a Time

One Step at a Time - Part 3

"Nothing."

Chuckles propped himself up on his elbows, making sure to not smack his head on the strut in front of him. "No, you made a face about my ship."

Arni's eyes flicked up to meet his before they shrugged, focusing back down on the datapad. "They're just a little...dated is all."

"Hey, that ship saved my ass multiple times and is an outstanding piece of engineering."

"So outstanding they didn't even put a spot for an astromech in," Arni muttered under their breath.

"OI! I heard that."

"It's true though."

"Listen kid, I don't need a droid to help tell me how to fly my kriffin' ship. And as a matter of fact-"

"All done," Arni interrupted him. "You're good to disconnect now."

"We're not done with this conversation," Chuckles grumbled, lowering back onto his shoulder blades and replacing the penlight between his teeth as he disconnected Arni's cable and replaced the panel that covered the access to the ship's flight computer. As he wriggled back out, Nita looked up from where she was seated, munching on some more of her fried snacks, giggling at Chuckles. "Your face is a mess," she teased.

"Tell me something I don't know," Chuckles snarked back before lifting the hem of his shirt and wiping his face on it.

"What's your tattoo of?" Arni asked from behind him, staring at the skin where Chuck's shirt had ridden up as he'd wiped his face.

The clone pilot sighed. "If I tell you, you're not allowed to make fun of it."

"I won't."

Chuckles cast a skeptical look over his shoulder at the Twi'lek, who stared back at him innocently. Sighing, he pulled his shirt up and over his shoulders, exposing his entire back. "It's the circuit board layout of the flight computer of my Z-95."

Arni leaned forward, studying the black markings that wove across the left side of his back, tracking over his shoulder blade and tracing his spine. The tattoo only took up one half of his back, but it had been a real pain to sit for. He'd been a stupid cadet, half drunk at the time and certain this was a good idea, which had only been fueled by some of his batchmates' enthusiastic insistence. He'd clamped his teeth together so hard he thought he'd crack them as the needle had buzzed across each rib, but he was no quitter. A few hours later, he'd made it, hustling back to the barracks before he violently vomited, although he couldn't be sure whether it was due to the booze in his system or sitting for the tattoo. Over time, he'd come to appreciate it more, and he felt a certain protectiveness over its significance as Nita walked around behind him to scrutinize it with Arni.

He felt a thin finger poke along one trace. "This layout is much better than the original Z-95 flight computer boards. There's a lot more redundancy built into the system's circuits." The finger poked between two ribs, and he jumped, pulling his shirt back down.

"Alright, that's enough of that. Are we done critiquing the design of my ship?"

Arni shrugged. "I said this version was better."

Chuck's eyes narrowed. "I suppose I'll take that."

"Are you ticklish?" Nita asked, reaching up to poke him between the same two ribs Arni had. Chuckles leapt backwards instinctively, and the little Pantoran's eyes glittered with mischief. "YOU ARE!"

"Am not! I just don't like getting poked in my internal organs, like any other being," Chuck fibbed, dancing out of reach of Nita's tiny blue fingers. "Alright, that's enough." Tucking his shirt back in his pants, he scooped Nita up and dangled her out in front of him by her ankles as she swung back and forth squealing with laughter. "Arni, are we good with the ship's signature now?"