Silence hung in the cockpit of the starship like a thick fog. Even with Minnow in the pilot’s seat next to him and little Femi positioned comfortably in his lap, Bril couldn’t shake the unease he felt. It sat in his stomach like an anchor in the briny depths, dragging him into the depths of his own worries that he just knew his pur'ka and little Tooka could feel. Although the latter was, his favorite Nautolan didn’t need Force sensitivity to feel the tension emanating from Bril’s very fibers.
As the streaking lights of hyperspace continued to sail past them, he knew it was only a matter of time until they arrived at Palioxis Station. This felt like the first real step on his journey, his endeavor to prove to himself and his new friends that he wouldn’t fall to the temptation of the Dark Side. It was the right decision. The only decision he could make. But why did he feel like stepping onto Minnie’s ship was just another mistake on a list that had been growing since that fateful day on Kenari?
Bril lip’s parted to allow a much-needed breath to pass between them. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding it. His hand found its place on Femi’s snow-colored coat, gently scritching behind the tooka’s ears while he gazed out into the brilliant expanse.
“Mister Broody Brains?” he asked, stirring from his musings upon hearing Minnie’s voice. “I think your ability to give me nicknames is slipping, pur'ka.” It was a harmless tease, of course. He knew more than most that Minnie possessed an uncanny ability to create nicknames on the fly. She’d yet to run out of felid names for him, mentioning some species that even he wasn’t familiar with.
Bril lifted a hand when she poked at his chest and loosely entwined his fingers with her own. “Alright, alright,” he relented, mirroring her with a smile of his own, “I’m up, Minnie, I’m up.”
“What did you have in mind?”
The tiny Nautolan smiled up at him, having to tip her head back now that he was standing. She held up a finger to say hold on, then pulled out her datapad. Swiping past the lock screen – an old picture, from before, a selfie of her and her begrudging brother, flipping off the camera while she squished into his side and smiled. They were both younger. He had all his headtails. And so many less scars. She’d refused to change it, even when she couldn’t look at it – and swiping to her music application. She put something on randomly and bopping and then set the device on the console, letting the notes echo around the cockpit, then offered Bril her hand.
“Dance with me, Kitty.”
“Dance?” he asked, blinking in surprise when Minnie extended her hand. He never was much of a dancer, not like other Iridonians. It was the one aspect of his culture that he hadn’t explored as properly as he felt he should. But, what little apprehension he felt was surmounted by his desire to have another jovial moment with his Nautolan. This would be their first time dancing, after all.
“I can try that, yeah,” he said with a nod, reaching to take her hand. “You may have to show me how, though. Never had much practice..”
The upbeat tempo of the song was one he didn’t mind, and he found himself nodding along to the rhythm.
“It’s not hard, Kitty, promise!” Minnie assured, pushing up on her tip-toes to brush the slightest of kisses over his mouth. She stepped back with a grin, already swaying her hips and rolling her arms, using her grip on their joined hands to pull Bril further into the main cabin. “Just keep your eyes on me. Feel the music, move to it, don’t think about how you’re moving. Just bop!” she laughed, demonstrating with a drop on the beat and springing back up.
And so, he followed her lead, and did his best to let the music lead him as she did. Keeping his eyes on her was easy enough. Seeing how easily she moved to the rhythm of the music inspired him to try to do the same. He could feel the urge to move rising up within him like a swelling tide but when he attempted to do so, it left much to be desired. It seemed that his body was better suited for battle than dance.
But that didn’t discourage him. He let out a gentle laugh while he danced in place, occasionally reaching out to take her hand and spin her around.
Happy Landings The Sabacc Tables
Vez made a show of tossing her jacket over an empty chair, not that it seemed to improve the B2’s attitude any.
“Nothing up my sleeves,” she said, gesturing to her bare arms.
She leaned forward and tapped both forearms on the security droid’s chassis, letting it have a good read of her electro-tattoos.
“Nothing in my circuits.”
She gestured to the empty air on either side of her.
“No sidekick droids to slice, spindle, or mutilate your cards or your dealer.”
The bouncer droid’s sort-of face met her face with a blank sort-of stare, its photoreceptors an unchanging dull red glow. But it did, after a moment’s consideration, wordlessly walk off and leave the Mirialan and the RH7 dealer to their table.
Vez smiled at the CardShark and dropped a credit chit on the table. “Deal me in.”
Ashla e Bogan do I love cheating at Sabacc.
Revak stopped at the entrance to the Casino to survey the room before heading straight to the bar for his first drink of the night. He made his way over, ordered a whiskey neat from the bartender droid and rested his weight on the bar table’s glossy crimson wood. He took note of the many familiar faces that he has grown accustom to seeing during his infrequent escapes from his daily life but after the quick survey of the room, his attention focused on the Sabacc tables. Specifically a Mirialan who he had encountered at the tables a few times before. He sauntered over.
“Anyone sitting here, Vez?” he asked at he sat next to an empty chair containing only a carelessly tossed jacket. He placed a credit chit on the table. The CardShark registered the bet and dealt his hand. He took a sip of his whiskey, put the glass down and said “You’re not beating me tonight.”
Minnie giggled and outright laughed brightly for every spin she took, twisting back into his front to roll her body along his foot just a dip before she danced back, pulling him further and further along each time she caught his hands again. Her unblinking seafoam eyes watched the way his body tried to step into lunges or plant for kicks instead of really boppin’ as she’d put it, and she adapted just as easily, flowing like her home ocean currents.
The next time Bril stepped, she retreated to plant a foot, dropped low like taking her stance, and threw a hand out at his to clap. Then the opposite, her pushing back in a spin a if to chamber her knee into him, him quickly stepping back and pinwheeling a leg to block a strike that wasn’t coming. Their feet smacked the plating, a standing game of footsie, half again dance and spar, though she’d never shake her hips so much in combat. The little Nautolan smiled at him, dimples on dimples, until they nearly tripped over the haphazardly rolled up bedding on the floor and she let herself fall into his arms, let him catch her. Arms wrapping around shoulders, she pressed a kiss to his chin.
“My hero,” Minnie said with a wink.
Now Bril understood what she was doing. Each movement resembled a fighting technique. A punch, a kick, a check, a knee. She had noticed the trouble he was having with dancing like normal and adapted by leading them into a dancing resembling a choreographed fight, with a bit more hip shaking, of course. This, he could do. His movements loosened as he got the hang of it. Eventually, he was even anticipating how Minnie would move next so he could complement her.
She smiled brightly at him, and Bril felt himself melt inside. He was so entranced by the bubbly nautolan that he completely missed the bedroll behind his foot. It caught behind his heel, and he nearly fell over but managed to get his other foot behind him in time to stop both of them from hitting the floor. He threw his arms around her on pure instinct, giving her a gentle squeeze when she kissed his chin.
“You’re something else,” he said softly, pure admiration reflected on his tattooed visage. He leaned down to kiss her again.
Shortly after that, a chime sounded from the shuttle’s cockpit. “Oh? What’s that?” he said, thinking aloud more than asking a genuine question. Since he was already holding her, he decided to just … scoop her off the ground and carry her over to the ship’s controls, only letting her down when they arrived. A quick perusal of the ship’s display would reveal that they’d soon arrive at their destination.
“Looks like we’re almost there,” Bril said, glancing over to Minnie to see how she reacted.
The Nautolan just giggled as she was carried, indulging as much and petting a hand down his locs and back as he deposited her with a murmured, “Good boy.” Then she turned back to her ship’s controls, reading the same display while also checking other instruments. She left the autopilot engaged, at least for a few more minutes, as her mind began to race about their arrival.
“Yup yup, looks like it,” Minnie said, and glanced over to find him already staring at her. She lifted a brow and put her hands on her hips. “So! What’s the tactical plan? Who are you meeting first? We shmoozing? Diplomacy? Want me to kick back, be your eyes in the sky?” She threw two finger guns at him, miming shooting, an edge of seriousness to her joke. They’d talked generalities. She knew he was going to meet some jediit. She just didn’t know if they’d be here, or all on their temple on Kiast. A thought occurred, and she stood up again suddenly, striding from the cockpit and making a beeline to her locker. “Oh, geez, I dunno if I brought something nice enough to wear in front a, like, Master Councillor? Jedi are modest, right? O'sik.”
- Her short headtails pinked at the end as she started pulling out outfits. Her flight suit was cute and fully covering, sure, but it wasn’t fancy; that dress was backless, no; combat boots and beat up sneakers for hiking around wherever they’d go; ohmigawd how had she forgotten formal wear–?!
Her hand touched a zippered garment bag she didn’t remember packing. She paused, pulling it out and turning around the tag, feeling her heart skip a beat when she noticed her brother’s merciless, flowing cursive.
For emergencies. Don’t let your trash boy pop off on this, it’s tulle. Love you, tadpole.
Her hand shook as she opened the bag, finding a soft, rosy gold gown that would match her vambraces, and she hiccuped, laughing, tears springing to her eyes.
There weren’t words for this, for having him back.
But fancy nice totally not murderous Jedi probably weren’t throwing balls.
“W-what should I wear?” she called to Bril as she tucked the bag back; it was him she didn’t want to embarrass, after all.
The smile seeped from Vez’s and she turned to glare at the B2. “Oh, I have to have a kriffin cavity search before this floating trash bin is allowed to deal me in but he can just roll right up?
The droid stared back at here.
"Ugh, fine, whatever. Sit.”
The zabrak had to cough upon hearing the “good boy” comment. But any flustered feelings he felt melted away when she ran through different ideas for how they’d spend their time, replaced with a warm smile that belied his amusement with her energy. Just when he was about to speak, Minnie rose from her seat and hurried off toward her locker, muttering something about clothes and jedi modesty. He followed, growing ever curious about her thought process.
“Minnie darling,” he began, a hint of amused concern in his voice.
While reading the note, she likely hadn’t noticed that Bril had stepped a bit closer to her. Close enough to see the gown that she tucked away when calling for him. A gentle hand found its place on her back, offering an encouraging caress while he ruminated on her question. “I think that would look beautiful on you, pur'ka,” he said, gesturing toward the zippered bag. “I’m going to have to find an occasion to see you in it while we’re here.”
He leaned over just enough to place a kiss on her cheek. “But I think I current attire is appropriate given our destination. I’m sure someone at Palioxis Station will be able to point us toward the Jedi Mr. Ruka and Mr. Cora recommended I meet.”
“Turel Sorenn was Mr. Cora’s master, so I’m sure he’ll be able to teach me a lot.”
Bril continued rubbing Minnie’s back while gently leading her back toward the cockpit. “But don’t hesitate to tell me if you want to be somewhere else, okay? You agreed to accompany me to help me work out my … troubles, but this isn’t just a Bril journey. It’s an us journey. Let’s enjoy ourselves, okay?”
Minnie smiled at the compliments and the kiss on her cheek, though she wasn’t so sure where they’d be finding somewhere a ball gown was needed with Jedi. She gave a pleased sigh at the touch to the back, half-wishing they had time before arrival for a fuller massage; just because she was used to flying all the time, long haul and short distances, didn’t mean the seat didn’t get you a little stiff.
The little Nautolan let herself be guided back to the cockpit, though she didn’t budge on one the attire. “I’m at least gonna get out of my flight suit, yanno? Sure it’s a station but what if we’re meeting the delegation somewhere nice? Bare minimum, I’m not leaving the ship without my vambraces.”
To the rest of it, she just smiled at him again, encouraging.
“An us journey, huh? Okie, okie, bet. But it is still to help you, and I’m here for you, bae, ya heard? If I really wanna go somewhere I’ll tell you, but I’m fine right now. Let’s get you to these jediitse and Mr. Master Turel. Did they mention anyone else?”
Before Revak had a chance to sit he felt a slap on his back. “Be careful old friend, when it comes to Sabaac I should be her apprentice.”
An unassuming human male appeared seemingly out of nowhere wearing a grey jacket with a white undershirt, hide boots and pants cut in a “work over fashion” fit. His graying, but neatly trimmed beard and undercut hair illustrated someone closer to middle age then they would ever admit.
The B2 gave an angry beep, “Councilor Sorenn I would remind you that the owners of this establishment have banned you from–”
“Yes,” Turel grinned, “I’m just here to socialize not play.”
Seemingly satisifed the droid returned to its prior tasks.
They banned you from playing but they let you hang out at the table? It’s a wonder this place has any creds left to steal, Vez thought loudly at her master.
But she kept her eyes on Revak. “As a reminder, the Code forbids getting overly attached to your credits. No sending me off on the crappy missions when I clean you out.”
A human male in his late twenties poked his head out from around the corner, a ratty black hat with a wide brim perched atop his immaculately combed dark hair.
“Well, well, well,” Jon Silvon, former Captain of Tython Squadron said, “What do we have here?”
Jon’s Envoy robes were stylish, and well kept, a contrast to the worn-out cap he had worn since he first entered the Brotherhood. The captain eyed the deck of Sabaac cards like a rancor that had just spotted a fat gammorean unarmed.
“Looks like I’m not the only bad penny,” Vez said. She drummed her fingers on the table, an awkward substitute for a more familiar gesture with a cigarra, but one that the dealer and security droids watched like shriek hawks. “What’s it been, three years?”
Bril nodded. He personally didn’t mind the flight suit, but he respected Minnie’s desire to wear something a bit more formal. “Something casual, then. But nice,” he offered. “The vambraces are always a welcome touch.” And a shrewd tactical choice, as well. But Bril didn’t mention that part. Although he couldn’t place its origins, Bril couldn’t help but sense the unease emanating from her. Something about this meeting with members of Odan-Urr disturbed her, and he so badly wanted to know what it was. He resisted his urge to reach into Minnie’s mind with the Force. Following their not date at the Kote Ky'ram Social and subsequent moonlit tryst, they had discussed his habit of reading her thoughts with the Force. She had given him her boundaries, and it only made him respect and admire her more.
He smiled again, reaching out to give her hand a little squeeze. “I’m bae, now?” he asked with a wink. Then, he tapped his chin while trying to remember anything else they told him. “Oh! That’s right. They mentioned someone named Vorsa? And Mr. Cora also mentioned a Lady Vez Hirundo…”
“And change,” Jon replied, pulling up a seat at the table uninvited. “But you know what they say about the more things change… the more they stay the same.”
“Case in point,” Vez said, “I am still awesome.” She glanced back in the general direction of the bar and raised her voice. “Can we get around of shots here?”
“And humble as you’ve always been as well,” Jon said. “But then, I’d be a hypocrite to criticize in that regard. Next round’s on me by the way. So, personal growth and lack thereof aside, what have I missed while I was away?”
“You know, the usual,” the Mirialan said idly as the croupier droid dealt the three Jedi in. “Dinosaur attacks, new idiots trying to kill us, uh… I got married, that was weird.”
Somewhere in the Dajorran System, Ruka sneezed.
“Ah, same old, same o- wait, what thats about dinousars?”
“Bae is a good thing, don’t worry, boo,” Minnie said idly, clearly still a little lost in thoughts of planning. “Vorsa, and a Lady Vez Hirundo. So, nobility. Okie, okie. Master Turel Sorenn, Lady Vez Hirundo, and a Vorsa, maybe.”
She squeezed his hand then got up from her seat yet again, this time throwing a switch and pulling her datapad back out. A holoprojector beamed down from the ceiling into the space just behind their seats, and with a few taps she had three differently colored target dots appearing on it, each designated initials of the given names. Another two shortly followed, labeled Kitty and Mistress. She adjusted their positions and then circled around, humming to herself.
“Okiedokie, so, we know we’re meeting Sorenn, right? So we’ll start with him! And ask right away about his cohorts, particularly this Ladyship. Wanna know what her ranks and titles are, so we don’t mess up any addresses and start some diplomatic incident with the Vatali Empire or somethin’, yanno? And we can ask about Vorsa too. So stage one: arrival. Dock at the port, secure egress, we should pick a signal for evac or mission’s gone FUBAR. Or yanno, just like, hey help omigawd this convo got awhkward. But we’re dealing with jediit and nobility, so, who knows?”
She waved a spotted, manicured hand through the projection, phasing it out briefly, then reconfiguring on her pad. The yellow dot approached the other three in front of the orange one.
“Stage two: approach. We wanna scope it out first? I can find a nice perch and do a little recon while you hang back. Or we can just go in like hey! We’re here! Wassssuuup. Really wish we had schematics of the station, I’d feel way better, gosh. You have the address, right? We can ask what the area’s like when we disembark. That way we’ll be close enough I can still change if it’s really fancy or really casual… I got this dress that’ll do and some heeled boots…”
“I kark you not, it had a glowing rock growing out of its head. Here, I took holos—”
Vez only had to reach for her datapad to provoke not only the B2, but two other security droids and a Besalisk to make beelines towards the table.
So, bae was a good thing. He’d have to catalog that information away in his mind. Bril stepped forward when she produced her datapad, folding his arms in front of his chest. As she began to update the icons into the hologram display, he raised an eyebrow when he saw the names that she chosen for the blips that represented the two of them. “Kitty and Mistress?” he asked with a chuckle, “Really, babe?”
Nevertheless, he continued to listen. She was a good planner and having a gameplan rather than just winging it while meeting members, and particularly important members at that, of a different Brotherhood clan seemed like the best idea. Still, he couldn’t help but smile brightly at how cute it was that she was putting her skills to use in this way. “Yeah, you’re right,” he admitted, “Don’t want to stir any pots if I can help it. As for a signal … maybe something in sign? Or maybe a codeword. Pineapples?”
Bril nodded and pulled up the address of the Palioxis Station where they’d be meeting. “I think we should just come in like normal and introduce ourselves, tell them that we’ve been sent by Mr. Ruka and Mr. Cora.”
“I would bring a change of clothes just in case.”
“Really, babe,” Minnie winked, and relief seemed to pass over her bubbly features at his general acceptance and suggestions in return. She bit her lower lip, looking like she might say something, then shook it off and dismissed the projection with a little hop to turn it off. “Sign can work…tho we might not wanna use our safe word yet, Kitten. Maybe tonight.”
He got another wink for that before she put her datapad down and held her hands up like she did when she was showing him something.
“This,” one raised hand turned to a fist, and she put it back down before raising it sharp and fast to chest level, then sticking out two fingers and folding her thumb in. She repeated the gesture, then pointed it in one direction, then the other. “This isn’t Sign, but it is a signal. Standard AAF hand code. Means alert or danger. Obviously it’s more clear when your expression is kinda oh shit or serious, but …you can do it just as is or point to show a direction, like, danger there. Straight level is just danger. Not sure if anyone here will know it, but if they do, there’s also this.”
This time she returned both arms to her sides, then lifted both, crossing one horizontally over her chest and making a fist. Her other arm covered it vertically at an angle, forming a cross, and then her closed fist jabbed up towards her head, only her thumb sticking out, away from her.
“This is Sign for danger or dangerous. Kinda in the cross, right? No, don’t. So you can do that or a smaller version like this,” another demonstration, using only her hands. “Okie? Any of those work. Do it back for me.”
Bril coughed and shook his head in a vain attempt to dismiss the warmth that spread across his tattooed face. “That … wasn’t what I meant. Hah,” But he didn’t reject her offer. How could he? “Though, the proposition of us sneaking away in the midst of our meeting is a tempting one.”
Once Minnie put the datapad down and began her demonstration, Bril lifted his hands in response so he could mimic her gestures. He watched her carefully, taking note of the specific ways she moved each hand in conjunction with the other. Then, he performed the same gestures she’d shown them. “Like this?”
“Yeah, you got it,” the Nautolan encouraged, beaming at him. “Good boy. Okie dokie. I’ll grab some clothes and we can get landing. Be good, okie, Femibaby?”
She plucked the tooka up from her hiding place and rubbed their noses together, scratching behind ears.
“Now let’s see what to wear with Mommy’s vambraces…”
Once Minnie had decided what outfit to bring, she returned to pilot’s seat and began the meticulous process of hailing the observation team of Palioxis Station. The entire process was one that Bril was somewhat familiar with because of the similar procedures his parents employed during their voyages. But he was lost to the specifics of each stage of the docking process and why it was necessary. Luckily, Minnow was considerate enough to explain it all to him.
The ship emitted a low rumble when it moored into one of the few available sections of the station’s spaceport. Bril unhooked his harness and rose from his seat. “And the mission begins,” he said, extending his arms to stretch and work out any tension that’d built up in his muscles. Then, he knelt down to scoop Femi up into his arms so he could bathe her in head kisses. “See you soon, my little Fik'Eeth'Minta. You behave, okay?” The snow-white tooka replied with a purring mrrow before hoping down to go and boop Minnie’s leg with her head.
“Ready to go, babe?” Bril asked while looking to Minnie with a smile.
“OYA,” Minnow replied loudly like she was hyping herself up, only to apologize for startling Femi with the cheer-cum-war cry seconds later. She crouched down and gave lots of pets and love to make up for it, promising to bring back some fish if anywhere had any. Then she stood again. “Okie dokie Brillo-pokie, lessgo, let’s do this thing, we got this. Oya!”
“Oya,” the Zabrak echoed her a little more indulgently but no less sincerely, a question and laugh for yet another new nickname that so wasn’t happening on his lips.
The couple disembarked, Minnie slinging a large, pink cloth tote over her shoulder, and proceeded into the innards of Palioxis Station’s central hub. As it turned out, the address they’d been given wasn’t far at all. In fact, it was situated just off the main access corridor from the hangar, and it took up an entire two tiered levels: the Happy Landing.
As they neared, they passed what looked like a small memorial wall, an otherwise spotless hull of durasteel plating interrupted by one extra plate, blackened by burn scars. Atop the scrap were several name plates engraved with a star date and the lamentation of a shuttle crash.
While Bril looked between the neon lighted sign of the bar – and sprawling casino, by the arrays of hidden and open sabaac tables – and raised a brow in distaste, Minnow seemed riveted. Her lidless seafoam eyes stared unblinking at the memorial, her body very still, buttercup knuckles bleaching lily white on her bag’s strap. It was after a step or two that Bril realized the Mandalorian wasn’t following him, and he moved back to her side.
- “Pur'ika…?” he called, reaching out to clasp her arm. The tiny Nautolan gasped and flinched back, fists half raising before she looked around and lowered her guard. “Minnie, hey, are you okay? We can go back.”
“I’m fine,” the woman snapped before he even finished speaking, eyes darting between the wall and the bar. She thumbed the rings on her hands quickly, spinning the larger one around her thumb over and over and over, self-soothing. Her smile was wide enough to show a hint of gum around her row of sharp teeth. “I’m fine,” she repeated firmly. “Oya.”
“Pur'ika…”
She strode on inside, and knowing better than to try and physically stop her, the Zabrak caught up in two strides of his much longer legs, even edging a little in front of her, as if to be first in the way of whatever was coming.
The most obvious thing was the enormous rancor skull hanging above the tables, thick chains suspending it from the ceiling. Knickknacks and things from all over the Galaxy seemed to just go… wherever their place was. Guests drank at tables or played cards with dealer droids. Spiral staircases lead up above, where broad balconies blocked much more of a view of the second level, but the noise and harsh lighting seemed similar of an arcade or casino.
Minnie paused to stare up at the skull, and then around the room, before looking to Bril.
“Not…exactly what I was expecting with meeting your jediit, huh? Geesh, I really coulda just kept the flight suit.” As it was, she’d picked a mid-length backless dress and some tall heeled boots for the extra two inches she hoped would put her at at least the chin of whoever Lady Hirundo was.
A gentle sigh escaped Bril’s lips when Minnie strode forward, though he did his best to conceal it as a deep breath – the kind you’d expect someone to take when they were preparing to meet what could be described as a delegation of sorts, Jedi representatives of Clan Odan-Urr. She said she was fine, but Bril was no fool. He’d seen the way she looked at that memorial, at the names of the fallen etched into the lustrous metal. Her past and the combat she’d seen were seldom a topic of discussion for the nascent couple, and he was fine with that. She could share when she was ready, as was her right; he just wished there was more he could do to help.
The tone with which she spoke echoed in his mind as they walked. He didn’t blame her for her decision to remain obdurate to his attempts to console her, but that didn’t make it feel any better when she rejected him. He shook his head and ran his hands down the front of his robes as a way of smoothing out any wrinkles and of assuaging any unsettling feelings that had arisen within him in their most recent exchange. Now wasn’t the time for such sentiments. They had Jedi to meet, and he had to put on a good showing for his sake and hers.
Walking just a step or a half in front of her with his arms folded behind his back, Bril examined the room’s scenery and occupants with an incredulous expression. “I was thinking the same thing,” he replied, careful not to let any disappointment ring through in his tone. “This certainly isn’t where I expected Jedi to spend their time, though, the Galaxy has changed a lot.”
He thought of his conversation with Melissa about that very fact. “As have the people within it. No reason to think the Jedi are immutable, I suppose.”
There was something off there, but Minnie couldn’t place it. She chewed on the inside of her cheek some more, headtails curling a little inwards towards her chin, unsure if Bril was let down by her, or the atmosphere. He did love the old era of the jediit, what he called the High Republic. It all sounded fairly romantic to her, but the way his eyes shone when speaking of such times couldn’t help but make her grin. Imagine…well. Something better and brighter and cooler than her own experiences, nevermind all the stuff that was recent history. She’d met plenty of people in her travels who had actually experienced the Empire, and that was way realer for them than a few galactic history lessons from her brother were. If you could even call fifty years ago history, geez, that was nearly current events…
“Yah…” she commented at length, and then huffed, because what kind of response was that? “I mean, maybe it’s different at their Jedi place? This is just a waypoint. Our first stop! I bet it’s not all pazaak or whatever and booze. Hey, maybe they’ll have cheng. I can teach you how to play.” Scanning the crowd for anyone that looked especially Jedi-ish, the Nautolan put her hands on her hips and strode over to the bar with a determined flounce in her step. “Excuse me, hi! Good morning! Or evening? Sorry, didn’t sync to station time yet. We’re looking for some friends, did anyone come in saying they were waiting for a bigger group too so we can all sit together, or?”
She smiled.
One hand found its place on Minnie’s back, a small gesture of physical closeness that would hopefully help abate the feeling of distance that loomed between them. It wasn’t large nor was it intentional, but it was there–born from two people who were holding back. Who didn’t want to expose their budding relationship to more turbulence than it witnessed in its inception. Ever mindful of the boundaries she’d placed for him and determined to respect them, Bril had only intended to open his senses to detect the presence of other powerful presences in the Force, but his nautolan’s uncertainty regarding his own state of mind was the first to cross his mind. It seemed that what had begun as a fun way to tease his beloved Minnow had established a subconscious mental link that, among other things, afforded him great advertence to her feelings. He need only stop and listen. At least, that was his working hypothesis.
He listened to what she was saying, cracking a smile at her attempt at assuaging his disappointment with the scenery with a bit of well-timed optimism. Two lips found their place on the woman’s cheek as a way of thanking her for her thoughtfulness and as a way of putting her mind at ease. “I would love to learn how to play,” he said, lips still close to her cheek. “Thank you, Minnow.”
The bartender, a Halaisi dressed in a walnut-brown shirt and a black jacket over top of it, looked up from a magazine they were holding to address the couple. “Can’t uh say I’ve seen anyone wanting to make reservations, no,” they said, speaking with an accent that Bril couldn’t place. “But I can get you two lovely folks a couple of drinks if you’d like.”
A tempting offer, but better suited for a time after they’d found the jediit they were looking for. He politely shook his head and said, “Maybe later, thank you.”
With his senses still open, Bril eventually detected the presence of several powerful Force sensitives, and quickly scanned the room to find them. “That’s them.”
“No droids.”
Ellac’s lone eye leveled on the recommissioned B2 Super Battle Droid’s domed head that protruded menacingly from its broad chassis.
“Statement: Denying a droid entry to a casino that employs droids as its primary security enforcers seems a bit… Counterproductive,” A metallic voice jabbed from behind Ellac. The source of the complaint took a step forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Sith. The yellow photoreceptors of an HK unit droid peered down at its master with all the indignation of an organic sentient without any of the facial expressions their fleshy bodies afforded them.
Briefly exchanging glances with his droid, Ellac looked back at the B2 that blocked the door to the Happy Landings Casino. “Alright, the droid will stay out here.”
The HK unit shifted its weight in obvious agitation as it kept its gaze locked on Ellac. “Commentary: Master, please do not leave me out here with the rabble. I am an assassina- erm, I mean, I am a highly capable protocol droid. I am not meant to waste away on some decrepit street corner!”
“And as a protocol droid, your primary function is to carry out any command I give,” Ellac shot back, glaring up at the droid before turning towards the B2 bouncer once again. “Now, are we done here?”
Still blocking the door, the Super Battle Droid raised one of its hulking arms towards the Sith. “No weapons.”
Ellac turned his glare upon the B2 as he begrudgingly unclipped his lightsaber from behind his back. “Naturally,” he said through gritted teeth, handing the hilt and the rest of his small assortment of weapons to the HK unit. “Don’t lose those.”
With a curt smirk, Ellac bowed slightly to the B2 droid, stretching his hands out to show that he was now unarmed. “Anything else?”
The Super Battle Droid lowered its arm, staring blankly at Ellac for a long moment before stepping to the side, allowing him to enter the establishment.
The touch to her back was all the more present on her bare skin with the cut of her chosen dress, and were it not for their mission, those drinks would have been well-placed to make this seem more like an outing. But thankfully, Bril turned the nice tender down, and seemed to be doing…something. He got this quietness, an intensity about him when he seemed to be sensing for something. She shifted on her feet slightly, but didn’t pull away from him, forcing herself to stay present and presentable, and then her Zabrak was pointing the way.
The indicated people were…not what she’d been expecting, to be honest.
“Tobehonest,” she faux-whispered fo the side of her hand towards her companion, “nawht what I expected either.”
The Mirialan lady was cute tho and–
Wait.
“OhmiGAWD I LOVE her hair!” Minnie squealed, louder than intended.
Bril felt himself cringe just a bit when Minnie exclaimed about the woman’s hair. “Minnie, you can’t just shout things like that,” he said with a chuckle, hugging her into his side while offering a sheepish wave to the mirialan woman who was now looking at them from across the room.
“But good job on getting their attention, babe.”