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WHO: Rey & General Grievous
WHERE: Nova City Guardian Highrise
WHEN: Shortly After This Thread Here
WHAT: The General has a need for some skilled hands. Too bad she only has two.
WARNINGS: None?? Maybe Grievous being awful? And Rey being a dumb butt?

The only time Rey has ever been anywhere resembling this high up was when she was piloting, and in that case she was too busy making certain she wasn't crashing into things to really enjoy the view. The ascent in the elevator brought back recent memories she'd rather not be having, so instead she shoves them into the furthermost recesses of her mind and tries to pick out the various sites she can see on the horizon.

Perhaps after her meeting with the augmented alien she could explore a bit on her own. At best, maybe she'll have a job lined up that she could spend what bit of money she found. At worst--well, there was always tomorrow, and she'd gotten enough good leads that she wouldn't be hung out to dry if this didn't pan out.

She really should have a little more faith in her negotiation skills. They were out of practice, but she was nothing if not a survivor.

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Grievous was waiting for her at the entrance to the Guardian offices. The cyborg was a little over seven feet tall and looking like a skeletal alien may be imposing to some. He wore a long cloak of striking crimson underneath; dark grey at the back.

"Welcome," he said rather graciously when she arrived. "I trust that you had no problems getting here."

Rey likes to think she did a good job at hiding any signs of being intimidated by the alien's looming size and piercingly sharp disposition. She kept a calm expression and looked behind her shoulder as the elevator door closed.

"The City's pretty well-designated with signs." Rey rubs her sweaty palms together and plants them on her hips, scanning over the mask and the augments the cyborg donned discerningly. "I'd have gotten here faster with a hovercraft of some sort, but I suppose I can get one together in time."

"Some new arrivals have trouble navigating their way around," he looks her over curiously but his expression - with only those reptilian eyes to go by - isn't easy to read.

He waves a clawed hand to indicate for her to follow him. She may notice that while this hand has six fingers, his other currently only has three. Under his cloak, she may also notice some pockets that hold three different lightsaber hilts.

"Come this way and we can better discuss your capabilities."

He begins striding toward one of the rooms. Once she follows, he indicates a chair.

"Please, be seated."

She follows, though she's not entirely certain she likes the idea of being grilled on what she could and couldn't do. She's much more the type of person to demonstrate.

Though admittedly, this was a better mode of questioning than what the First Order initially had in mind, even if Kylo Ren was giving her the 'soft treatment.

She thought to ask about the missing appendages on his one hand, but at the last second thought better of it. She'd done herself a disservice before for being presumptuous, perhaps she should sit back and listen for a change, rather than bulldoze through the conversation for the sake of setting the tone.

"Now," he leaned back against a table opposite the chair, looking down at her. "I do not believe that you told me your name," he began. "And tell me a little more about yourself and what you can do."

His tone was more curious than demanding, even if his rough voice may make it seem a little aggressive.

She sits up straight, shoulders square. She feels like she's being interviewed for a job--and maybe she is?

"My name's Rey." She starts, her eyes floating over the cyborg's frame before finally making their way back to his reptilian eyes. What does he look like under there...? "I'm from Jakku, where I spent a good majority of my life salvaging downed ships for parts and selling them to a dealer."

She realizes she may need to elaborate on how that qualifies her to help with droids. "Some of the pieces I would keep for myself rather than sell--to build my own things. Sometimes I was called upon to help repair the droids of visiting merchants--mostly because I worked for cheap, but I was good at it. Real good."

"It sounds like you may be resourceful," he notes. "I am no droid but sometimes quick repairs are needed for this body. Others that I have contacted for this are not always readily available and so your services may be... 'on call', we could say."

He pauses before going on.

"You mentioned a war when you arrived. Did you fight in this war?"

Her eyes had drifted to the three-fingered hand of Grievous initially, but quickly snapped back to him at the mention of war.

"A little." She admitted almost sheepishly before finally trying to seize some hold of the conversation's direction. "You introduced yourself as a General."

"I am. I was in the midst of a war when I arrived here and I also grew up during another war on my home world of Kalee. There have been many wars in our galaxy."

And he's presuming they're from the same galaxy due to the mention of 'droids'. He'd noticed most others tended to call them robots instead.

"There have been others, from the past or from the future. I was fighting in the Clone Wars, as they were known - due to the enemy's use of cloned soldiers."

"I've heard of the Clone Wars. Though that was long ago." And an entirely new war came and went, and now a new one has been waged upon the galaxy once more.

"You opposed the use of cloned troopers, I take it?" She couldn't pretend to be an expert on intergalactic history, especially when it game to its wars, but--that would...likely make him part of the Separatist Movement?

"They were merely a part of a corrupt government that we were fighting to change. I led the droid army," he explained. "But these disparate times and wars are irrelevant here. We must put them aside until we return."

He indicates their surroundings, this building for the Guardians.

"I have been in this city for nearly a year of their time. We must adjust to this world and live in it the best that we can. My position is critical to the protection of the city."

"And there has been no war in that year's time?" She doesn't mean to sound skeptical, though odds are her face is terrible at hiding it.

"What are you protecting this city from, exactly?" ---'and what role do the Jedi have in that protection?'--she almost asks, but decides at the last moment that perhaps that question is best aimed at an actual Jedi, such as Anakin.

"There are occasional disputes and threats that appear. It is nothing that we have not been able to handle and vanquish so you have no need to worry," he reassures, assuming that is her concern. "There are creatures from many worlds here, all unwilling at first to be here. Problems arise. There are things that you could not imagine and would not believe until you have personally witnessed or experienced them. Here, you must be ready for anything."

"I assume the threats are enough to set aside grudges from home to face them together?" It's a hard sell, but Rey - though forgiving, is often reluctant to forget past crimes at first.

"I have a pretty healthy imagination. Care to illustrate an example? Best be prepared, after all."

"Yes, past grudges should be tempered, although I would not expect you to have to work with any enemies. Only to avoid these conflicts causing citywide trouble."

He has to take his own advice there, due to the ever increasing number of Jedi arriving.

"There is no point in giving examples. The threats are wide and varied and usually do not repeat. They could be huge monsters at the city gates or there could be mind altering diseases that affect half the population. These things can happen without warning, unseen. A Guardian's job is to make sure that the citizens remain as safe as possible."

He briefly pauses before thoughtfully adding:

"I am planning a new centre to aid those traumatised by such events. It is long overdue."

Well, she was in luck. So far there were no 'enemies' to speak of, and hopefully it would remain that way...because mark her words, she wasn't one to back down from a fight if it's brought to her.

"You mean like a clinic or something?" She doubted she'd be much use there--"Or something more to appease emotional trauma?" --not that she'd be much better in that arena, either.

"So if you want me on stand-by," She pushes forward, going back to the original topic they'd begun with; "what about when I'm not needed for something. Any suggestions as to how to make do here? Get meals, housing, the like?"

"Somewhere to heal those with emotional troubles. It is a point that came up in the recent elections," he replied then waved his three-fingered hand as if to also wave that line of conversation away.

Back on track.

"There are many job opportunities for a variety of skills. There is also a great deal of available housing to suit every level of affordability. You should not go without shelter or food here as long as you are wiling to put in some effort."

"Finding work is my priority." Rey blurts out with little in the way of reservation. She shifts where she is sitting, watching the cyborg's three-pronged hand gesture. "I saw a scrapyard from up here--what can you tell me about it? Is it already pretty well picked-over?"

She might as well start where she's familiar. If not there, perhaps the General could point her towards a few other leads.

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