Home, it is said, is about people and not places. Peli Motto would have disagreed. She dearly loved her droids, true — but she only truly felt at ease when surrounded by both her droids and her very own mess of engine parts and dubious decorative objects. Some would have called that an insular temperament, pushed to the extreme, but Peli Motto was not a recluse. She delighted in meeting new people and having new experiences: that was what running a hangar in Mos Eisley was all about, once one was done fixing up engines (that themselves were prone to displaying very exotic builds). This peculiar disposition of hers, however, explained the slight distress of her heart when she had to clear a room for the Twi'lek Kopecz Baaa-cap, even though the idea had been hers. This room had been meant to be used, years ago, as a secondary office dedicated to paperwork and customer handling. Peli Motto, however, has soon found that these matters were as well, if not better, handled over crates of spare parts. The room's purpose had therefore changed, and it now housed some tools not quite functional but that could still be fixed, lovingly displayed engine models (on a 1:10 scale), and the sort of random things one is likely to collect over the course of a career. Some of it had to be left in the dumpster to be taken at the discretion of the Jawas. Some of it she sold, and the models she moved to her main office. They did brighten up the mood there, and Peli enjoyed that change. Perhaps her ways had become too set. She had also found a second-hand bed that fit nicely along the wall; an old cabinet had become a wardrobe, and a chair and a rug tied the room together. All in all, Peli Motto felt it justified the gouging price she had decided to extract from Kopecz Baaa-cap.
In a few days Kopecz Baaa-cap had quite settled in his room by the hangar. If he had entertained hopes of being often in Peli Motto's presence, he was disappointed, for she sat at most about ten minutes at a time with him, and when she did he came to dislike her forwardness. In the evenings he retired early, fearful to impose, and Peli Motto was left to play sabacc with her droids.
Of course, Peli Motto was busy, and Kopecz Baaa-cap himself often went out during the day in his search for a post to his liking. He unfortunately found his association with the late mayor of Mos Espa to be a deterrent for many employers of the reputable kind, and those who would have considered it a bonus he refused to meet.
It so happened that, on a hot dusty day, duty had called Peli Motto to the help of an old acquaintance of hers who managed a repair shop by the spaceport. Galeste Lukas was a very good kind of woman, not too clever, but a valuable neighbour, for a gentle spirit is to be valued as much if not more than any other quality.
A speedbike needed to be fixed; while Peli Motto didn't usually indulge in that sort of work, goodwill and a common fondness for gossip had brought her to her friend's help. Peli had set out to work by the courtyard entrance. After a while, she noticed the familiar green-clad silhouette of her Twi'lek guest leaving the custom office. The man looked quite dejected, and she was about to wave at him when his face lit up, as he was looking to the other side. A man on the street all but ran to him and was greeted effusively. Peli knew him from sight: his name was Bingley, and he was a nurse. They set out to chat, and moved to the shadow of the wall that sheltered Peli Motto, who had no choice but to eavesdrop.
"Come, Baaa-cap," said the newcomer. "I must have you accept my advice. I hate to see you wander by yourself all around town. You had much better ask that landlady of yours if she could employ you as an accountant or a salesman."
"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest that profession. At such a place as hers, it would be insupportable. Private endeavours I have sworn off; there is none that would not be a punishment to me."
"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried his friend, "for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with a better engineer than Peli Motto. She's nothing short of a wizard!"
"What do you mean? She must be tolerable, I suppose, but not enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour to grace her particular streak of entrepreneurialism. You had better return to your patients, for you are wasting your time with me."
Bingley followed his advice. Kopecz Baaa-cap walked off, and Peli Motto remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. She told the story, however, with great spirit to her friend; for she had a lively disposition, which delighted in any thing ridiculous.
"I won't loose much if that two-faced idiot doesn't apply," concluded Peli. "Not that I needed help at the hangar to begin with. I can do sales just right. He fancies himself so great, wanting to serve the community and all, but he's just an old bootlicker on the loose. I'll ramp his rent up when I can."
When evening came, and Peli had regained her hangar, Galeste Lukas in tow, she busied herself with a couple of Jawas who had been waiting for her. A couple of collector coils in good condition got her an excellent cobulator, leaving each party both happy of the trade and with the feeling of having ripped off the other side. The suns set before Kopecz Baaa-cap came back. Peli was then roasting some desert meat over a repurposed thruster, as her friend lounged on a nearby chair; when she caught sight of the Twi'lek's tall silhouette, she hesitated, for she was still vexed. Showing it, however, would have defeated her purpose, that was to extract as many credits as possible from the former majordomo, so instead she called to him.
"Hey, handsome! Come get a skewer of needle rats, they're fresh as can be!"
Occupied in turning the grill, Peli was far from suspecting that she was herself an object of some interest in the eyes of Kopecz Baaa-cap. He had at first been stunned by her outwardly manners, so unlike his own, that he had not known how to judge her. In spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware — to her, he was only the man who fussed over everything, and who had not thought her good enough to seek employment with.
The party, therefore, was quite strained. Baaa-cap feared to be rude by leaving early; Peli Motto was still fuming from what she had overheard, and only Galeste Lukas' blissful lack of awareness brought a measure of congeniality to the whole thing. After a while, Ms. Lukas turned to her friend and asked if she still had her set of drums. When answered in the positive, she said:
"I am going to get them then, Peli, and you know what follows."
"Ah," groaned Peli, "you're a strange friend, aren't you! Always wanting me to play and sing, yadda yadda all the way. I'd rather keep my breath to cool my dinner but then, you wouldn't be happy."
So she relented and, while Galeste deftly played some rhythms on her drums, the two women sang together a few bawdy songs. Kopecz Baaa-cap wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how to. Peli Motto, meanwhile, had warmed up, and cried for him to accompany them.
"I'm quite afraid that I do not know the words, and would only mar your performance."
"Come on, fella! You must have heard them at the mayor's little shindigs, and it's not like they're hard to remember! Everyone can sing these!"
"Certainly, lady; they have the advantage of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can sing these."
Galeste Luka only shrugged. Peli's spine, had she been one of the rats impaled over the fire, would have bristled, and she failed to notice the Twi'lek had the air of one whose tongue ran too fast ahead of him.
"I wasn't begging for your voice," Peli spat. "Ya know, you should go to bed, it's getting late, and don't you have some job searching to do tomorrow. Phonic insulation's good in your room, the savages won't bother your pretty ears."
Kopecz Baaa-cap gathered his composure and left, darkness hiding his blush of embarrassment. All that brought him back to the unsavoury ways of his time in Mos Espa was detestable to him. The merry sound of drums accompanied him all the way to his room where, true to Peli's word, soundproofing did its job of removing him from the world.
Mornings were, in Mos Eisley, often a quiet affair: night prowlers still slept their dishonourable labour off, traders were busy doing inventory and such menial work as requires not one's brain to be fully operational, and all in all everyone was minding their own business. The black speeder, therefore, encountered very little crowd when driving through the dusty streets, and no one marked it when it parked by Peli Motto's hangar.
A lone woman walked out of it; she was of a thin athletic build, and looked short-changed in the patience department. She walked carefully into the hangar, that was empty. Movement caught her eye. Quick as an adder, she pulled a blaster — nothing but a pit droid was in her sight, and the metallic creature cowered as only droids can do.
"Fennec Shand," cried Peli Motto, wiping her hands on a dirty rag. "What's your business this time? Do I need to engage the security system, and d'you plan on breaking it again?"
"I'm looking for the Twi'lek."
"He's not here, darling — gone hunting for a job that no one will give him. What do you want him for?"
"A job," said the woman, who lightly jumped and sat cross-legged on a crate.
Peli raised an eyebrow smeared with grease and shouted a ha of incredulity. The palace of Jabba — well, of Boba Fett now — had plenty room to house the daimyo's employees. Peli would hate to loose the rent.
Both suns had reached their peak when a disgruntled Kopecz Baaa-cap walked back. His predicament was starting to show: his flowing robes were less neatly pressed than when he served the late mayor, and he was fidgeting. Fennec Shand walked to him; from the far side of her workshop, Peli couldn't understand what they were saying, but he rebuffed her and went to his room. He came out after a while, a tablet in his hand, and sat, oblivious to the bounty hunter's shape. She got closer, making him jump as she hovered over him, and asked who he was writing to.
"My sister," he replied, uncomfortable.
"She'll be delighted to receive such a letter," drily said Fennec.
He made no answer.
"You write really fast."
"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly."
"You must have written so many letters for your old boss. And letters of business! I'd hate to do it!"
Kopecz Baaa-cap marked a pause, and babbled that it was fortunate, then, that it had been his lot and not Fennec Shand's.
As entertaining as watching Baaa-cap squirm under the bounty hunter's thumb was, Peli felt she had to intervene. She didn't look forward to clearing Twi'lek brain matter from her wall because he had rubbed the woman the wrong way.
"Not to rush you, gal," she genially shouted, "or you, head-tails, but I'll soon test an engine mod down here, so unless you wanna be toast on plasma exhaust you'd better head out!"
Fennec Shand's reluctance in leaving followed her like a trail when she tore herself from the Twi'lek's side. She gave him a last look, mouthing the words call me, and put her helmet back before walking in great strides to the exit.
"I suppose I ought to thank you for coming to my help, lady. That person was quite persistent."
"She'd have murdered you in the blink of an eye, too, if you'd kept up your little game. You must be more careful, Kopecz, because who'll pay your rent when you're dead!"
There was a wistful look on the Twi'lek's face, soon replaced by his usual composure as he said: "I consider myself happy that you would miss me in such an eventuality, even if only for the credits I bring you."
Peli grimaced. "Sorry — blame your shining personality. I don't get along people I can't really get a good laugh with. Or at."
"Oh? May I ask, what brings laugh to you in people?"
Now that was something Peli hadn't much thought about, ever. Introspection had never been her thing. She was stumped, and scratched the grease on her eyebrow while Baaa-cap added that he didn't want to be nosy, and several sentences of apology. She bared his teeth to silence him in too wide a smile, and said:
"Follies and nonsense. Whims. Inconsistencies. Quite a lot of things you miss."
"It has been indeed the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses, which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule."
"I dunno, pal. Life's too hard to take it seriously. I don't play around my engines, because buckets of bolt have no sense of humour when they reach light-speed. But people? Have you taken a good look at them? Have you looked at me? I'm a mechanic on Tatooine who's still missing a tooth because I took a liking to a Mandalorian and an ugly green baby! If I don't get a laugh about it then who will?"
"I would never laugh at you," gravely replied Kopecz Baaa-cap.
There was earnestness in his voice, too, but Peli waved it away like a fly. The man was wrong, utterly so; why did she lose her time talking to him anyway?