Off Duty in the Outer Rim Collection : Cad Bane Knitting for the Critter Care Collective

Off Duty in the Outer Rim Collection : Cad Bane Knitting for the Critter Care Collective

It likely started during a particularly tedious bounty hunt on a backwater planet choked with scrap yards and harsh winds. Cad Bane was tracking a low-life tech smuggler who'd vanished into the planet's underbelly. Days bled into frustrating weeks with the target proving more elusive than a greased Tooka cat. Bane, stuck in a dilapidated, barely functional safehouse, found himself wrestling with a rare sensation: genuine boredom.

For a being who thrived on the thrill of the chase and the precision of his work, this inactivity was grating. One day, while haggling for some meager supplies at a dusty, open-air market, his gaze fell upon a discarded bundle of coarse, undyed yarn and a set of mismatched, well-worn knitting needles. They lay forgotten near a stall selling salvaged junk.

Something about the raw, unrefined nature of the materials sparked a flicker of… not interest, exactly, but perhaps a detached curiosity. It was a puzzle, a tactile challenge in a world of laser blasts and coded transmissions. He acquired them with a curt nod and a few spare credits, more out of a desire to occupy his relentless mind than any nascent hobbyist inclination.

His initial attempts at knitting were, predictably, a chaotic mess of tangled fibers. But Bane's focus, honed by years of tracking and outsmarting his prey, wouldn't let him be defeated by something as simple as yarn. He approached it like disarming a complicated device, studying the basic loops and knots, his brow furrowed in concentration.

The first results were crude, uneven squares of rough fabric. It was during a rare venture into a slightly more populated settlement for fuel that he encountered a volunteer from the Outer Rim Critter Care Collective. This volunteer, a weathered individual named Kaelen, was trying to solicit donations of durable materials for the injured and orphaned creatures the Collective took in – tough hides, sturdy fabrics, anything that could offer protection or comfort.

Bane, never one for charity, likely wouldn't have offered his rudimentary knitwork out of the goodness of his heart. Perhaps he saw Kaelen as a source of local information, or maybe he simply wanted to offload the increasingly large pile of lumpy squares accumulating in his safehouse. He might have grunted and shoved a few of the creations towards Kaelen with a dismissive gesture.

Kaelen, however, a pragmatic soul accustomed to the harsh realities of the Outer Rim, recognized the surprising resilience and dense weave of Bane's handiwork, even in its imperfect state. He might have offered a curt nod of thanks, more intrigued than impressed.

Over time, perhaps through sporadic, almost transactional encounters with Kaelen, Bane would have learned more about the Collective’s work. He would have witnessed firsthand the need for robust, small enclosures and protective coverings for the often-battered creatures they rescued. His analytical mind would have registered that his unexpected skill could serve a practical purpose in this harsh environment.

He would continue to maintain his stoic, detached demeanor, never uttering a word about enjoying the knitting. Deliveries of his increasingly refined, though still utilitarian, knitted items would be left anonymously at the Collective's makeshift shelter or exchanged with Kaelen in brief, almost silent encounters. But the members of the Outer Rim Critter Care Collective would come to rely on the surprisingly durable and functional contributions of the enigmatic, hat-wearing stranger, a silent, unexpected ally in their often-uphill battle to care for the forgotten creatures of the Outer Rim. It was a connection forged not in sentimentality, but in the shared understanding of resilience and the quiet satisfaction of a task done well, however unexpected the knitter.