Session export: Brotherhood Party

“Thank you!” A short Human waved to the droid, not having a coat to hand off. Zuza had flown to the yacht herself after all. She was adorned in a pale green shoulderless dress that came to just above her knees under a large purple feathered cloak that clasped around her shoulders and dragged slightly on the floor in it’s length. It was plainly a bit too big for her. Heading directly to the weapon check she reluctantly handed her lightsaber over for the evening. It wasn’t that Zuza was expecting to need it but there had been more than enough situations in recent years where she had that it was a worry. Though on a party yacht owned by the Grand Master himself, the Arconan supposed it was probably safe. Enough. Probably.

Zuza would much rather have it on her.

A wet nosed bumped her hand which instinctively moved to pat the head of her Cythraul. Frond was keeping close to his person, golden eyes looking around the room with open puppy-like curiosity though his training was working as he kept to her heel. Despite not even being a year old yet, the pup was already tall enough to simply reach up with his head to nudge her hand. Zuza looked down at him and smiled, pausing to scritch his ears before the pair moved toward the elevators for the second floor. He always did a good job of noticing when she was worrying. Today was not about worrying. It was meeting people, dancing, drinking a little and enjoying herself.

“Thank you!”

Anders had to do a double take when he heard that voice. He had arrived shortly before she did, and was debating putting up a fight for handing over his weapon, but given whom this fancy, expensive, lavish yacht belonged to, he decided today was probably not the day to test his luck.

It had been shoddy, after all.

Between Draca joining the Children of Mortis, and every lead turning into dead ends and dead contacts, some at Anders’ blade, it was probably for the best he didn’t have his lightsaber on him.

Nevertheless, he’d heard someone on the yacht had information pertaining to Draca, whether they’d seen him, fought with him, or conversed with him didn’t matter. It was a lead, and he’d take anything he could get, even if that meant socialisation. He dressed in his best attire for the occasion, a regal outfit complimented by a stylish, flowing cape.

Why not start with the voice he recognised?

He placed a hand on the lithe Human’s shoulder. “Good afternoon, Lady Zuza. I trust you are well after everything on Ostara?”

Zuza had almost missed the presence of the Chiss though she was far from hesitant to grin up at him, face alight at seeing a friendly face. Her hands aimed to slide into her pockets but alas, she had none. After an awkward motion they ended up clasped in front of her as Frond carefully sniffed the edge of the man’s cloak.

“Anders! Sir.” She bowed her head a little, trying to show some courtesy as least. She didn’t know exactly what positions Anders held but sir seemed to be a pretty good catch all from what Cora had taught her. As he asked of her wellbeing, Zuza was suddenly a touch self conscious of her new scars that were blatantly visible in the outfit she’d chosen. Still pink in their freshness, the vertical lines were dense across her arms and legs. Just more scars not exactly unusual here. Her smile remained in place. “Yeah absolutely. No more shuttle crashes! Can’t say the same about avoidin’ humidity but Selen is pretty.. ocean-y and hot as kriff. What about you? Feels like everyone’s been bein’ kept busy.”

‘That’s one way of putting it.’

It was little more than a flash, a drop in Anders’ demeanour as the smile disappeared like a lightswitch had been turned off. Yet, just as quickly as the frown showed itself, it vanished.

“I would prefer not to crash in future endeavours.”

He felt a tug down on his Cape, yet instead of being angry about it, he was merely curious. He understood what cythrauls meant to Arconan’s.

“I see you are being considered for the Clan title, if the young pup here is any indication. You must feel like a shining light within tbe Shadow Clan.”

Having made it past the doorman, Renatus took an offered glass between two fingers and held it with a delicate touch. His black-gold eyes appraised the gold, bubbling liquid before he offered it to his lips.

With a lackadaisical stride, he passed some of the gathered people and made his way to the lift. Somehow, no one seemed willing to get on at the same time as him, so Renatus found the trip a solitary one. The doors opened and he was immediately hit by a wall of sound as the DJ was doing what they do best.

Anders did not lock eyes with the newly minted Darth Renatus as the Justicar glided past them. The man had an unmistakable aura about him. He was mysterious, yet dangerous. Intriguing, and secretive, like a raven in the night. The thought crossed Anders to perhaps tap into the Justicar’s mind. If anyone in the higher echelons of the Brotherhood knew where Draca was, the Justicar might be a good place to start.

Alas, he thought better of it. The repercussions of getting caught could put a damper in his plans. He needed to be cautious.

He smiled at Zuza. “Shall we grab a drink? I’ll pay. I could use a good glass of Coruscanti Wine right about now.”

Zuza smiled, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. Absolute agreement on that one. The elevator took them up to the second floor in short and swift minute. During it, Zuza had a moment to observe. The drop of the smile was obvious to her and the cracks beneath the surface not too difficult to discern past it. The time had been just as heavy on him as it had on herself. She placed a careful hand on his upper arm, too short to really reach his shoulder, and gave a light squeeze. The Human was socially aware enough that if he was dodging it like that in public, then whatever was causing him pain was something he’d likely not want to discuss. It was that way with many, herself included. After all, she had done the exact same thing moments ago.

“Well, I’m happy to have your back in any future endeavours, yeah?”

The Human let her hand drop, the elevator doors sliding open to blast the pair with music, as what he’d followed up with clicked. “Wine sounds good, I’ll get the next round- Wait Clan title?” Was that a thing? Well she did suppose a few of the people with them were titled but… Huh. News to her. “Uh, well. Maybe? Apparently he chose me though, from quite a distance away considering I was space borne at the time. He’s called Frond.”

Frond chuffed, evidently glad that he was being involved in the conversation finally.

It was at that moment Zuza saw the golden trimmed black cloak of a Firrero she hadn’t seen in ages.

“Oh hey, Thane!” She waved to the Justicar, the aura of avoidance evidently not applicable to the short Human.

Renatus—or Thane as he was called beneath the title—raised an eyebrow mid sip and turned his head towards the sound. The other brow rose to join the first in a clear “oh it’s you” expression. A quick flick of his fingers tilted the glass fully and the liquid disappeared from it.

After a quick swallow, the Firrerreo offered Zuza a nod of greetings. “Zuza,” he said with his dancing lilt. He eyed Anders with an impassive expression that didn’t let on if he recognized the other man or not. At the very least, they had never met.

Weapons check.

How quaint.

As if anyone here wasn’t a weapon, especially the jediit.

Nevertheless, business was business. Foxen Erinos spent 4.56 solid minutes removing all 30 knives from his person along with his pistol, and even removing the power circuit and miniature rockets from his vambrace since he refused to part with it. Four. Point. Fifty six. Minutes.

Tedious.

Whoever had programmed and maintained these droids needed to maximize their efficiency. It should’ve only taken 2.7 minutes at most. Even with all his weapons, he was very good at handling them.

But finally the Nautolan-Chagrian hybrid was allowed passage into the ludicrous party yacht of the most powerful object: category: “people” and category: tyrannical asshole in the sector. He sliced through the crowds like a dark shape in deep water, striding smoothly and purposefully along, unblinking sanguine eyes absorbing every input.

Certainly, he would vastly rather be back in Dajorra, with his home. But Flyndt was training with Karran for the next three days, and Foxen needed to spend his time more productively than stress baking them another pâtisserie, missing him.

For example: attending this gauche-ass excuse of a genital measuring and wealth display that his Clan alor was vociferously organizing. Someone here could be a possible contact or have information pertinent to his mission: Flyndt, and he needed to reestablish his networks after the last five years of decay.

First was a detour to the refreshments/food. He had no plans to eat the swill, but assorted cutlery made an acceptable replacement for all the beautiful balanced throwing knives he’d had to surrender. The inlaid spoons were an anachronism of two seasons ago in the Coruscanti Core, but least whoever was sharpening these steak knives was competent. He approved.

- Then: reconnaissance. Socorra would make a suitable point of entry, but only if he could reasonably assume her to be more Mandalorian than Praetor.

Doubt.

He scanned the floor. That female Human was a recognized entity. Her file, once accessed, contained memories of static: hot, sticky air, shouting, Minnie’s anger, the reek, the hounds, increased respiration and heart rate. And apparently the Grand Despot’s Praetor let dogs in here, oh joy.

So much for one day without a traumatic episode.

His memory file didn’t contain any data that lent to thinking Zuza would be inclined to help him in any fashion. However, the object: male Firrereo beside her was also recognizable. That was the Justiciar itself.

He recalled Minnie’s awful drunken texting him about how the humanoid knew their Sign Language and omigawfhcbcb foxx .ie isnt that gr8??2

Ugh.

But possibly useful. Better than flashing his datapad back and forth for a start.

He angled his approach vector 12° at sedate speed of 0.4 kph and prowled over.

Green emerald hues with silver speckles glared down at the guard. Which was pointless considering they are droids. “Ma'am, it’s -” Her hand went up to stop them. Her hands went down to unfasten her rapier belt and handed it over and her heart sank while she watched her rapier being taken away.

She had never felt so naked. Evelyn reminded herself this was only for a moment. Her hand snatched the map while she looked over it.

Of course, they wouldn’t say where the bridge was. Ironic. No matter, it was easy to tell for anyone who know their way around ships.

The pilot made her way over to the refreshers. She easily got out of the Naluton’s way. “Laurent-Perrier Rosé,” Evelyn requested when she reached her destination. The bartender nodded. While she waited, she turned around and leaned back against the bar. This might become a big party which could give her the distraction she needed to get to the bridge and admire the ship in its full beauty.

Although, she always prefers assault ships.

Ah. How her heart thumps at the thought.

Anders straightened his posture. This was the Justicar of the Brotherhood. A man with so much power at his fingertips that he could have anyone incarcerated with enough reason.

Still, finding Draca was his top priority. Getting the Justicar on side seemed like a good, logical step.

“Lord Renatus,” Anders greeted him really, giving a small nod. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. Would you permit me to purchase a drink for yourself and Lady Zuza?”

The faintest of eye twitches answered Anders’ greeting. See? He was getting better at handling the title. No longer making his skin crawl visibly! Now it was just a minor irritation…like a mosquito. The Justicar offered a nod before replying. “Purchase? No.” I have enough credits as it is with nothing to spend it on.

She’d grinned at him remembering her, leaning on the bar as Anders made his greeting. Though the name he used. Lord Renatus? Zuza looked a bit confused. Wasn’t that the Justicar or something?

Wait.

It took a few seconds longer than it should have all things considered but Zuza looked at Thane with a moment of oh; Before promptly returning to her usual smile. Well. He hadn’t corrected her so kriff it. She was quite glad if anything, trying to remember everyones names and titles and positions was a lot to retain.

“How are you doing? It’s been a bit since Tatooine.” She spoke, getting a little side tracked as the hulking figure of Foxen approached but waved to him as she had everyone else.

Frond sat down beside Zuza, taking a moment to sniff Thane’s cloak as well while remaining close to her.

Kah’ri stared at the droid for a moment, equal parts in disbelief and disgust at the request. He’d intentionally selected his cloak as part of his new Quaestor uniform. No way was he going to forsake it at the door. He moved to bypass the droid.

“I’m afraid I must insist, sir.”

As he moved forward to address the absurd request, another figure leaned in toward the droid and muttered something that somehow changed the droids tone.

An override? Here of all places?

Acknowledging his Summit role had just been dwarfed, Kah’ri mimics the actions of his superior and checked in his weapons before gliding past the would be “gatekeeper”.

Marek Voss could be seen stumbling awkwardly out of a taxi cab speeder, nearly falling over before gracefully catching himself and making it seem like nothing had occurred just now. It dawned on Marek that he had actually been a small bit late to the gathering…. just as intended… he thought with a smile. He prided himself on being fashionably late to parties. Unfortunately, Marek would likely enjoy this event more if he weren’t still absolutely hung over from- well- the morning. Despite his grouchy attitude, the man faced the droid at the entrance, gladly handing over his overcoat. Underneath the fairly basic black leather jacket was a bright red nobleman vest(it’s a rental) with a basic white tunic undershirt. On the opposite side of the room, he’d hand over his blaster and Lightfoil without a second thought, pretty much just wanting to get into the party at this point without any fuss.

Seemingly impatient to get to where he wanted to go, Marek oddly enough didn’t really conversaste with anyone, that is, until he marched his way over to the refreshments. Having sat down at the bar, his entire expression seemed to change on a dime from a look of distain to a bright grin as he spoke with the Bartender. “Could I get a rorian rum, sir? Oh, and keep it neat… I like my liquor straight.” Marek said with almost exasperation in his voice as if he was waiting for this moment all day. He turned to his left to see Evelyn leaning against the bar. “Can’t help but notice ya lost in the clouds, lass. Doesn’t look much like this here party is catching your attention much.”

The hybrid watched the wave and otherwise noted but ignored the category: object: Chiss male also present in whatever discussion was happening. He placed himself > 1 m as away from the cythraul as possible while maintaining participatory conversational radius, vividly aware of placement of absconded steak knives in his sleeves, and set his gaze on the Justiciar.

Lifting his hands, with only some adjustment for the still-unaccostomed lack of finger on one, he asked, Do you understand me?

“I am as well as I can be. Yourself?” Thane responded to Zuza’s question. The Firrerreon noted Foxen’s approach and made a few quick judgements: the hybrid didn’t like animals, didn’t care much for people in general, and didn’t talk. Well, didn’t talk in the usual manner.

I do, he replied with a steady hand gesture and nod.

<@432543120635461643>

Good. Intel suggested as much. That is, you met my baby sister at a party and she cried about you understanding us. Lidless, pupiless red eyes would be noted, by someone observant enough, to be rolling. Business proposition for you: I get you to translate for me to these bozos here and there, you get to use being a translator as an excuse to not make shitty small talk when you feel like it.

Thane raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. Then he glanced upward while pursing his lips in thought. That sounds agreeable, he replied.

“The same really.” Zuza smiled, edging instinctively in front of Frond. He’d been at heel anyway but considering the last time she’d met Foxen, he’d stabbed someone twice because he was panicking over Karran’s creatures, she wasn’t taking risks.

Her eyes followed the interaction, glancing back and forth. She knew they were talking, though what they were saying was beyond the Human. She’d started learning, it was something Cole had suggested years and years ago and she felt bad it had become relevant to know before she had gotten to it. Admittedly it.. hadn’t exactly been a easy few years.

Deal. I’m Foxen. Your address? He tracked the movement of Zuza in front of her beast, and her watching them talk. With a soft grunt, he turned enough to be angling his front towards her too, including her with himself the Justiciar. He nodded to the Human. Z-U-Z-A. His unflinching eyes roamed, noting new scars that had not been there previously. Precise, straight, shallow cuts. A multitude. Supposition: was she one of the precious abducted Arconans Settgré was responsible for. Query: they got you too?

This he asked with a pointed look to the Fierrieo.

T-H-A-N-E, he spelled out, not having a name sign of his own. The Firrerreon made a point of keeping Foxen within eyesight so that he could begin translating, which he did. “Appears I shall be the go-between,” Thane remarked before re-stating Foxen’s question.

“I started learning recently but.. No where near enough yet to keep up. Thank you.” Zuza laughed lightly, though her expression dimmed slightly at the question. She looked up to Foxen, addressing the Nautolan directly.

“Yeah. They got.. a lot of us. They’re dead now though, a lot of them. I’m glad you made it back safe as well.” She remembered Foxen’s name being among those on the debriefing of who’d been rescued.

Foxen’s head titled ever so slightly.

Unreasonable. Haven’t given you any reason to care about my well-being. Demonstrably, more reasons to prefer I stayed gone. He gestured, not a sign, just pointing, at her position in front of her cythraul. But thanks. Hope they died bloody.

Anders watched the exchange with interest. Sign language, unfortunately, was not one of his strong suits. He was, however, an avid learner. This would no doubt be something of interest to him.

Once again, Anders found himself resisting the temptation to weave the intricate tvreads of the Force into the minds of those around him. Information was more value than any amount of money at events like this, and he could achieve the desired effect without, hopefully, anyone noticing.

No…

Whatever this conversation was, the Justicar was involved. Not that he was scared of the man, far from it, but he knew better than to test the wrath of a newly minted Dark Lord. Instead, he leaned against the bar, standing next to Zuza and gestured to the barman.

“One glass of your finest Coruscanti Wine, my good man. What is it you drink, Zuza?”

Zuza smiled, shrugging, “I don’t need reasons to care about a person. Its the other way around for me and you haven’t given me a to not care. Either way, no one deserves that fate.” She explained, looking back to Anders and the barman.

“I’ll take a Tatooine Storm. Let me know when you’re ready for the next one, it’ll be on me” she gave him a gentle nudge, having established it in her head that he didn’t mind such contact.

Disagree. There are plenty of pieces of shit that do. And worse. He watched the brief touching exchange and respective drink orders. Where’s your entourage?

Anders wasn’t much of a touchy-feely kind of person. He used to shun such contact. He had been mostly alone, fending for himself, learning that power for powers sake was all that mattered. The day he killed his Sith Master had been one of the most gratifying days of his life. He was free, and he was the better, more worthy individual.

That all changed with Draca.

Because no matter how much he tried to deny it, his youth, that longing for amicable companionship behind the durasteel exterior he built for himself persisted, digging into him like the talons of a hawk. His father rejected him, as did his mother and brothers, the Chiss Ascendancy used him, the Sith used him, the Brotherhood used him…

You’d think he would have learned his lesson. The only measurable worth that mattered in the galaxy was justice against those that wronged him, and those like them.

Draca had made him soft, and Zuza reminded him of the young Zabrak in a peculiar way. She was soft, light, and cared too much for those around her.

Just like Draca…

Anders shook the thoughts from his mind again, finding himself clenching. He would have no such weaknesses define him. He would overcome them. He was Sith. A true Sith.

“A Tatooine Storm and Coruscanti Wine please, bartender.”

<@141239709291511808> ^

Anders turned back to the conversation taking place. He’d need to keep his wits about him if he wanted to retrieve the information he sought.

At the Human’s confused look even as Thane conveyed his words, Foxen’s eyes rolled again.

Friends/groupies/lackeys. Karran, K-A-R-R-A-N, Karran, he repeated the name sign that had become necessary given his mentoring Flyndt, and the female Kiffar. Don’t know how to spell her name.

Evelyn’s eyes watched over the group, and more importantly; at their clothing.

This party did not disappoint when it came to clothing.

Different threads. Different techniques. The short woman had a rather lovely dress with some kind of feather coat. Feathers. Those are so annoying but it’s beautiful if you do it well. The tall Nautolan. Now, that was someone who knew how to dress. The bigger the people are, the more difficult tailoring was but everything was just pristine. No uneven threads or edges. Brought the glass to her lips, she sipped to rest her eyes on a target before she looked over to her side when she heard a voice.

‘…ya lost in the clouds, lass.’

A small smile. Where has she heard that before?

Tilted her head for a moment before looking over at him. “I would much rather be in the clouds.” Emerald hues glanced at him, up and down. *‘Rental. Shame. Well, upkeep though. Only an observant eye can see those fading colors at the edges. Not too bad.’ * There was a movement to her other side as she noticed a chiss with a rather formal outfit and one that practically almost screamed that he was in an important position. Somewhere. Or he believe he was. Then she paid attention back to Marek, might as well try to be social to the one that was talking to her. “I’m Evelyn Wyvern.” She took another sip of her wine.

“Oh, Diy. D-I-Y. They’re friends not lackeys, I was visiting them for the weekend. I flew here myself today, dunno if they’re coming.”

She shrugged again. As much as she enjoyed dragging friends around, at big parties like this she liked the opportunity to meet up with people she usually couldn’t and meet folk who she hadn’t come across yet. The Brotherhood was big enough there was never a lack of new people to meet. Stories to tell. Thane wasn’t a talker but that didn’t bother her.

D-I-Y, he spelled back, and then his lips made the slightest frown at his hand. Why in the frak was he showing her letters? This wasn’t teaching, talking with, opening to Flyndt. The Y wasn’t even fraking correct since he was doing it with his off hand habitually. Shaking his head to ward off the mental static, he lifted his other hand instead, resisting the absurd urge to pocket the gimped one. Held it out deliberately, repeated, D-I-Y.

Marek’s grin visibly widened as he noticed the lady was going along with his antics. “Oh really? What could possibly be so interesting that it would distract your attention from a gathering filled with some of the most powerful beings in the galaxy…?”

Her studying gaze would eventually meet the eyes of the man in front of her, his striking amethyst eyes boring back into her soul. He had that one in a million stare that demanded authority. Marek broke eye contact for a moment, similarly studying the woman in front of him, appreciating her sense of style.

Marek noticed her attention suddenly shift to the rather high profile individuals sitting next to them, now intrigued by them as well. He took a slow sip of his drink, the man’s eyes narrowing into a slight scowl. Whenever Evelyn turned around to face him however, his expression changed back into the usual gentleman smile he’d sported like it was nothing. He’d make a low chuckle as she introduced herself, Marek holding his glass up to meet hers’ in a clink.

“Marek Voss, professional scoundrel of Clan Visla.” The man winked, smirking at his own joke. “So What is your profession, Miss Wyvern?” Marek seemed a lot more relaxed now, crossing one of his legs over the other and leaning against the bar as well to appear more comfortable.

“I don’t do social. Or parties. Much rather be out there and flying. But times are hard. Was told to go out more.” Evelyn slightly explained, not wanting to lay everything down. After all, you never know who to trust or not to trust. Her emerald eyes went back over to the crowd. Odd. The Nautolan was using.. his hands? To communicate with another? Now, that was something she had never seen. She looked back over to Marek and met with his amethyst hues.

Evelyn rose her glass a bit more when there was a clink from their glasses. “Pilot. Recently got some interviews in a few places so let’s see where my wings will glide me.” Then another sip, “What brings a professional scoundrel here?”

Marek looks at her as if she already knew that answer, swirling his drink around, showing it off. “Aside from the obvious? I like meeting new people. I haven’t rode with a crew in a while…. Well shit, I suppose I’m looking for some new friends.” He laughs at his own expense. He had the elegance of a lord, but the mouth of an outlaw. Marek’s hand goes to reach at his empty belt every now and then, almost as if he was reaching for a comforting grip of a blade that wasn’t there.

“So you’re just here to…wing it? Heh… get it? Cause you- Nevermind. Anyway, I suppose I can get behind something like that. To be perfectly honest, I’ve been looking forward to meeting a grade A pilot. And by the look of things around here, everyone seems to be a specialist in their own right… so that likely makes you one hell of a pilot. Am I right?”

Evelyn gave him a small nod to show she was listening. She wasn’t much for friends or even a crew but she knew where he was coming from. It doesn’t help that her interviews would mean she would become a part of the crew.

If they have her.

Evelyn gave him a blank stare when he threw the pun but he quickly gained his footing and moved on from the pun. “I’ve been told,” her voice got soft as if remembering a memory. She brought the glass to her lips and this time, tilted her head back as she took down the rest of the wine. With a grimace, she turned to face the bartender, “Another.” Evelyn exhaled sharply and looked over, “I noticed you keep reaching for something that’s not there. I’m guessing it was a weapon you had before having to turn it in. Is your life so dangerous that you must have a hand on it at all times?” Her eyebrow rose, more inquisitive if anything.

Scoundrels, Evelyn mentally mused.

Not expecting the line about him reaching for an invisible weapon, Marek’s face visibly flushed from slight embarrassment, but his poker face remained strong. He suddenly cleared his throat. “It appears you have answered your own question, Miss Wyvern.” His infectious grin returned. “And for your information, it’s not about how dangerous my life is. I have you know, I take pride in my blade. The connection between a Jedi- no, not a Jedi- between a warrior and their sword is not like any other. My blade is my life, and my life is my blade….” He might’ve just a tad bit overshared there.

And then Marek would have realized he was now rambling, deciding to get back on track “What I mean is, it gives me a sort’ve… confidence So to speak.” It was apparent that Marek was probably a bit over the edge of soberness as it seemed like he was telling this woman he just met a little too much. However, he was in fact just patiently sipping at his rum. In his humble opinion, it would be a disservice to this fine quality liquor if he just simply downed it all.

“Well… I suppose it could also be that we are currently surrounded by an entire ship full of the galaxy’s most dangerous Assassins, notorious mercenaries, the slimiest of thieves, and Sith Lords for kriff’s sake. I, personally, would rather be protected.”

Thane took a moment to turn to the bartender. “Two Surly Sarlaccs, please,” he ordered.

<@141239709291511808>

“Oh neat.” Zuza laughed lightly, admittedly a little glad they were. While she was happy to pay her part, that corsucanti… whatever wine was expensive.

She took her drink, paying attention as he signed the letters. It.. looked right? The second version looked more right? Thane had said it the same both times so she wasn’t sure.

Zuza sipped her drink, other hand reaching down to ruffle Frond’s head.

‘Aha.’ Evelyn fought to keep her smirk down. “And how do you know, if I’m not one of them?” She asked but a small smirk at the corner of her lips as she waved her hand. “Ah. No matter.” She watched as her glass was being filled. “I feel the same for my rapier, I feel practically…” She gritted her teeth. She had said too much as well. Instead, she reached over and grabbed her glass, and took another sip. Then another approached the bar as she moved to give him some room. He was larger after all. Hard to not notice if a block was in the way.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment.

Then she leaned back, eye contact with Marek, “I’m going to move elsewhere.” With more people on the way, she didn’t want to be at the bar when it gets more crowded. Instead, the Epicanthix made her way over to the quiet lounge.

Ellisyn Kendis wasn’t a stranger to a party, at least not before. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to attend one since her last one some months ago. In fact, this was the last place she wanted to be. With her brother stepping down from his role as Taldryan Proconsul, now more than ever, she needed to make sure her clan was still a friend to Tal and the Brotherhood at large. She didn’t need people thinking they were distancing themselves, not yet.

The tall Firrerreo stepped out of the taxi she had arrived to the party in, still unable to afford her own method of transportation. She flattened the front and back of her form-fitting navy suit and walked towards the weapons check. She, like many others, was reluctant to give up her knuckle dusters but didn’t make a fuss. Instead, she reached into her jacket pockets and handed them over, quickly escaping further into the venue.

The lawyer made her way through the ship and into the bar area. She wasn’t planning on getting drunk, but something to calm the nerves would be pleasant. Upon reaching the bar, she went to the main counter and did her best to grab the bartender’s attention.

While she was waiting, she watched the other beings at the bar, studying their mannerisms and assessing who to try and talk to and who to try to avoid. “Some cider, please.” She requested once the bartender had time, straight and to the point.

Seeing no definite recognition on the Human’s face, and with Thane’s translation adapting admirably to his lack of finger making both Y’s equal, Foxen exhaled through his nostrils in the barest sigh yet again. It wasn’t worth making more of an effort about correcting, and he stomped down the nagging urge to make himself clearer as the trip of objects: people was left on the riveting commentary of oh neat.

To think, he’d actually forgotten how much he hated establishing connections. Being conscious in his body again was. Difficult. So much of the time.

But then…

Sunset eyes, crimson feathers.

Worth it.

Alas. Right now here today at a party without Flyndt, surrounded by bozos. At least he had a mission.

Set task: obtain intel.

The Nautolan hybrid turned back to Thane.

How willing are you to trade information? he asked blandly, expression as blank as ever. The Justiciar’s was nearly as blank. And the clothes were good. Hm.

Nice.

Apoc looked around the bar area. All the while muttering to himself. He eventually found a relatively out of the way table and took a seat, not really paying attention to everything going on around him but at the same time keeping an eye out for anything. Not that he was expecting an attack but his lack of social interaction, made him a tad bit jumpy to say the least. Eventually he would calm down, and just enjoy the sounds and sights going on around him.

By that point, Thane had a Surly Sarlacc in each hand. He blinked for a moment, eyes flitting between Foxen’s eyes and his hands. The Firrerreon’s nostrils flared as he exhaled, then he just…opened his hands. And, well, the drinks didn’t fall. It wasn’t for any lack of gravity, merely the Justicar’s unconscious and habitual use of the Force for every day convenience. At some point, you just stop being self-aware about it.

Depends entirely on the value of the information, he signed back before reclaiming his bounty and taking a casual sip.

Apoc would have probably noticed Marek Voss sitting at the bar table watching people pass by like a hawk, seemingly looking to strike up a conversation with another person. By just looking at his face and body language, it seemed he was just another run of the mill scoundrel type, but his force presence said otherwise if he would be curious enough to look for it. He could tell Marek was strong in the light side of the force, but…. there was something else. Something dark at the center of that faint blue aura… and Marek would find himself making direct eye contact with the Chiss. Almost immediately, the scoundrel’s face lit up a little as a soft smile rested on his face. He then sat up and made his way over to the table Apoc was sitting at. “You mind if I take a seat here?” The man said with conviction.

One pierced brow lifted 2 mm at that display. He might have called the jediit a show off, if it weren’t for the fact that he knew better. You didn’t gawk at something with lungs breathing air.

Well. No, imbeciles did, he’d been asked before how he was alive on land. And in water.

But.

On the value to you or to me? the Nautolan responded, content to be having the conversation with their hands and not necessarily needing to tell – or make – the jediit to stay the hell out of his head, unlike some of the violating frakers. Likely worthless to you, but potentially priceless to me. You the kind that gives a shit and wants to be paid or the kind that doesn’t?

Apoc not really sure how to respond, would think it over for a few moments. then spoke up,

“If you insist, most people tend to avoid me though..no they don’t…yes they do.” he would seem to be arguing with himself. Once Marek was seated Apoc would once again speak up,

“You may call me Apoc. And you are…doesn’t matter…yes it does.” Again he would appear to argue with himself. “Apologies spending years by ones self causes the issue you see happening before you.” He found it weird he could tell the Human before him was a follower of the light, and he was a follower of the dark, so why did he want to try to strike up a conversation? He thought it over for a brief moment before just letting it go as he was among others of the brotherhood and needed to be nice even if they followed two very different paths.

Thane scoffed at that one. Getting paid wasn’t exactly a priority for him of all people. Value determines if a trade is even required, or if it can simply be offered. What are you after?

Zuza was content to enjoy her drink, one hand appeasing Frond’s desire for attention, as she shifted to lean to not openly stare at the unspoken conversation occurring beside her.

Instead she focussed back onto the Chiss beside her.

“I did mean it, by the way. About having your back. I know folk tend to say that kind of thing as a nice little.. yknow as a thing to say, but you have my comm codes still I bet. I can’t say if I’ll always be able to, but we helped each other out. I’m happy to do it again. Didn’t turn out too badly as a team the first time.” She grinned slightly, before tilting the glass back and taking a healthy drink from her cocktail.

Point conceded. Looking for information, mostly, or whoever has it that I can hunt down. Specifically pertaining to mercenary groups operating out here in the Outer Rim, Garis Sector, within the last seven years. Looking for someone, next to no leads, so it’s a wide net.

Zuza nannered about the power of friendship to the Chiss male 1 m adjacent, and the cythraul, unfortunately, continued to exist. Drinks started to flow. Whoopie. He wondered if the Justicar intended to double fist those Sarlaccs.

Better not get blackout drunk on me before I can bargain with you, pal.

Frond had noticed one of the bar stools next to Zuza and was busying himself trying to fit under it. Thankfully nobody had taken the seat to use it, as through his efforts it was left leant on him at an awkward angle. Evidently the Cythraul found this comfortable still as once he was essentially carrying the stool on his back, he loafed with a wagging tail.

Anders gave a hesitant nod. “If you call crashing and getting captured succesful, then absolutely, it was a success,” Anders’ mouth curved into a smirk. “Though if we emd up on a shuttle again, don’t be surprised if I brace for impact.”

He took a sip of his wine. Not bad. Not great, but not bad either. He’d had better. It needed to be aged more to bring out the sweetness and aroma Coruscanti Wine was really known for.

He watched the Nautolan seemingly eye Zuza’s cythraul like he wanted to plunge several vibroknifes into its back. Thankfully, the Nautolan seemed to be too focused on his silent conversation with the Justicar.

Anders planned to keep an eye on him, just in case. He doubted the Nautolan would be reckless enough to do anything foolish here, but the Chief Inquisitor had been surprised numerous times before…

“I’d call it surviving a shuttle crash and escaping capture successfully. And kicking ass while we did it.” Zuza grinned, eyes glancing over to Frond and evidently unsurprised by his shenangins by the quick return to Anders, “If we end up on a shuttle again, I’m piloting it. Two times in a row I go on a mission with someone else piloting and there’s a crash. Admittedly it wasn’t the pilot’s fault either time but I ain’t lookin’ to find out what the charm is for the third time.”

She sipped her drink again.

Zuza was aware of Foxen’s distaste but she was also aware that Frond was far more keen to occupy a stool from beneath like a fluffy submarine than do anything that’d cause a freak out. Hopefully. It wouldn’t matter if she had a weapon or not if he did.

Fidgeting with her new suit, Wenet sat in the back of a Speedercab, on her way to a Brotherhood party. It would be the Kushiban’s first, not just her first Brotherhood party, but her first party in general. Back on Kushibah they had seasonal celebrations, but nothing so fancy that she needed formal attire.

“Almost there, missy… are you sure this is the place?” The driver asked as he glanced at her through the rearview mirror. It was obvious he didn’t think that she belonged there. “Yes I am sure, sir!” Wenet responded agitated and glanced outside. She could see the yacht in the distance. Suddenly she began to feel a little anxious, the colour of her fur became a dull grey tone. It was odd, Wenet would take on an opponent twice her size without hesitation, but this, a social occasion with everyone from the Brotherhood, kinda scared her.

When the speeder cab pulled up in front of the entrance, Wenet paid the driver and got out. Still fidgeting with her suit she followed the other guests towards the door. Everyone was taller than her, especially the ladies who were wearing high heels. The Droid at the door surprisingly did notice her between all the other guests but Wenet wasn’t wearing a coat. The suit itself was warm enough over her thick fur.

Once inside, Wenet glanced around as all the guests that were present. Her fur turned more dark, she felt lost.

Thane did, in fact, have every intention of double fisting his drinks. Getting two at a time meant fewer trips and thus less talking.

Can share what we have without issue, came his reply. No trade would be needed for that. The Justicar once more let his eyes scan the room, a habitual check on all those present.

“They say lightning can strike twice. I personally choose to believe it can strike as many times as it wants, should it desire too,” Anders took a sip of his drink. Yep, it definitely needed more aging. He decided to get down to business, and start asking around. Sure, he could look into people’s minds, but many objected to that practice when they realised what he had done, or was doing.

Imagine that…

“So, what brings you here? A simple invite, or some other agenda?”

Zuza had chuffed a laugh at the lightning comment. If it did happen again, shed have to start keeping score for whenever they met up again.

“Just the invite really. Meet some people I usually don’t see” Zuza shrugged, smiling in remembrance of his own suspicions about her intentions at the start of their shared mission, “I guess that sounds like a agenda don’t it? I just like making friends though, what about yourself? Doing some fancy.. networking stuff or..?”

Zuza was proud of herself for remembering the word. Thank you Cora.

Appreciate the generous cooperation. I’d buy you a drink, but seems the head bozo is paying for it all, and those robes say you don’t need any checks besides. Beautiful asymmetric cut, by the way. Who’s your tailor? I want to meet them.

Foxen’s gaze also searched the room. If a bystander were to compare the two men, they might remark them awfully similar, from mannerism to dress. But then, a bystander wouldn’t be wise to comment.

The Nautolan meant to ignore the stupid cythraul, but something about it trying to cram its body into the chair legs reminded him of the memes Minnie often sent. Withdrawing his datapad, he aimed the cam at the display and snapped a holo, his statuesque face softening like obsidian coming to life, lips curling up at the edges as he typed a message to Flyndt.

🦈: Look, I found Jax. 🦈: [attachment: 412.holo] 🦈: Seriously though, can’t believe this mutt is here. Spied a couple damn animals so far. Wish I was home with you. Might have some a lot of intel to go over soon. We’ll see.

He looked back towards the Justicar as he typed, not needing to see his screen when muscle memory would do– well, mostly. Turned out he used his pinkie as a brace more than he’d known he did.

“You could say that…”

Anders swirled the now half-empty liquid in his hand, seemingly taking a particular interest in it. He was hesitant to share. Information was key in learning someone’s weakness, and Anders had been taught since the start of his training in the Force to always keep his cards close to his chest. Even the slightest slip could expose a crack in his wall.

And yet, sometimes you had to give a little to get something back. Get somebody back. He was realising this more and more. It was just a question of risk versus reward, and analysing it correctly.

“It’s concerning a young Zabrak that I… knew. I’m looking for information pertaining to his whereabouts, if there are perchance any clues. I was informed there would be someone here who had some intel that could be useful.”

Amusingly enough, this wasn’t the first time an inquiry had been made as to his tailor. Yet, Thane still didn’t know the exact answer. Fashion wasn’t his thing. Now, if you happen to have a close friend where fashin is very much their thing, then you defer to them. For the Justicar, that meant a former Deputy Grand Master. Specifically, Morgan B. Sorenn.

It was purchased through a friend along with most of my wardrobe, Thane admitted. I can pass along a request.

Once finished, he put in a few commands into his own datapad and began a query for mercenary ops in the Garis Sector. Additional parameters: seven years and individual dossiers.

Quietly, Wenet stood against the wall. She watched the other guests and recognized none. She couldn’t help but to wonder if maybe she was in the wrong place. She kept nervously fidgeting with her new suit.

If everyone wasn’t so tall, she would have walked around, maybe try make some new acquaintances. But the Kushiban worried someone would accidentally kick her or stand on her tail. So remained where she was at a safe distance.

Contact details and a recommendation will do, thank you. The Nautolan nodded at him, opening two new fields in his contacts for the incoming information. Anything I can do for you? I expected to be stuck bumping elbows and trading favors for hours here to get little more than nothing. You just made my night a hell of a lot less sociable.

On the last word he deliberately made an expression, one of disgust.

Social disgust was something Thane could understand, though he considered it mostly a waste of time more than anything else. He conveyed one of the point of contacts he used for Morgan’s tailor to Foxen and then shook his head ‘no’.

There wasn’t much Renatus was in need of at that time.

Kah’ri followed the droids directions to the local alcohol exchange. He didn’t need it, exactly, but carrying a glass of dark ale would be a great way to look a bit more dignified. As he crossed the threshold of the bar his ears perked. That’s Ellisyn! he thought rather loudly. Visual confusion laid over his face as he heard the familiar voice order a cider.

“Cider? Really? A woman of your taste?” He asked rhetorically as he pulled up to the bar next to her tall figure. Even if she sat down, she’d still be taller than him.

He flagged the bartender effortlessly. “I’ll start with a Coruscanti Wine.” The man behind the counter nodded as he served the his fellow patron her drink.

Cheers, Foxen replied, and lapsed into a perfectly palatable silence to observe their surroundings with surgical precision. Free intel, and likely an abundance of it, and no need to chat.

Perhaps he could leave right now then.

Nice.

Elly set her drink down, confusion running through her veins. As far as she knew, she didn’t know anyone attending this function. Not until she looked up and saw Kah'ri approaching her. She looked him up and down, appreciating the outfit he had put together for the event.

“What’s wrong with cider?” She asked, a playful yet incredulous look on her face. “It’s got bubbles, unlike your flat and boring wine.” She softly chuckled at her own quip. Though she was confused, she was extremely grateful to see a familiar face in this sea of unknown.

Staring out of the viewport on the observation deck Korvyn reveled in the relative piece the area brought him. He still didn’t know exactly why the force brought him to the Yacht.

Still only a few months from his escape from the Collective prison he was trying to find where he belonged again. He had always been a drifter of sorts never staying in one place too long. The Brotherhood was large and he had seen most of it in his travels through the Clans. Now the force had guided him to Vizsla a group without a central theme. Sure their were a lot of Mandalorians about the system of Zsoldos but there force users and criminals about too. Perhaps the force was telling him to forge his own path, or perhaps it was just fickle, only time would tell.

Either that was a wink, or his Clan alor'ad was having a stroke.

If the former: disgusting.

If the latter: when she dies, he’s going to break into that hidden office of hers in the hangar and take it. Optimal surveillance.

Either way, he intended to be off this 2000 m durasteel ode to phalluses before the landing struts released.

With the barest salute to Socorra, and a final nod to Thane, the Nautolan checked again for the cythraul’s location under the barstool and calculated the most efficient route to the doors and weapons check in the incredibly crowded space.

Mikhail begrudgingly twisted, pulled, twisted the other way, then popped the metal avian head of his staff from the rest of the shaft. Within it was a small electrical system, of which he popped a battery free and deposited it in the weapon bin next to a simple thin blade he always carried Just in case.

He was awe struck by the size of the yacht, but hardly let that emotion reach his face as he walked through the ship, following signs posted towards a bar. His cane gave him a great way to avoid the habitual loop from his gait, reducing it to a faint echo as he walked into the bar. He cast his glowing crystal gaze across those inside, not really recognizing most of them. But that was fine. The invite went out to a wide net of people, including many important people he needed to rub elbows with.

If only the thought of striking up a conversation didn’t make his mouth instantly dry.

He frowned at himself, both hands resting on the cane infront of him for a moment. He gently taps the metal walking cap at the base of the shaft against the ground, then started walking again. He saw an occasional figure he recognized. Zuza, who he had met briefly while signing up as a volunteer medic prior to being scarred by the crystal that now marred his face. At the thought of it, his free hand lifted to touch the warm smooth surface on his cheek. The blue crystal shifting as he moved, creating a strange illusion of depth to it.

The other figure he recognized was the towering Nautlolin. He wasn’t expecting to see Foxen here, but didn’t have any particular qualms about it either. He just hoped enough people knew how to communicate with him. The Arkanian’s sign language was.. incredibly untrained.

Reaching the empty spot at the bar, he stood waiting for his chance to get the bartenders attention. “Pardon. A tonic water with lemon.” They both stared at each other for a few seconds until Mikhail slowly added “… no alcohol.”

He bit his tongue as the tender gave him a strange look, but got to work on his drink. His gaze drifted to the others at the bar and in the room, not sure who’s elbow needed bumping yet.

Savran didn’t want to come here, to come to a party brimming with Brotherhood members they didn’t know. They would have much rather remained at Sagitta’s bedside, but she’d insisted that she got out and rubbed elbows with new people. Normally, that wouldn’t have dissuaded them from remaining in Sagitta’s room like a faithful sentry, but when the woman mentioned the possibility of finding more work, Savran found it difficult to deny her reasoning. More work meant more credits, and Savran knew many of these frakkers had plenty of them to go around. That much was obvious based on the garish yacht of a starship within which the party was held.

After being admitted into the starship, Savi made their way toward the sound of conversation happening in one of the bar rooms, The first person they saw upon arriving was the unmistakable form of a nautolan-chagrian hybrid, the same one whom they’d fought alongside on a mission several weeks prior. A poodoo-eating grin appeared on the shani’s face when they spotted him from across the room. What was Foxxy doing here of all places? They strode across the room with a leisurely yet confident gait and stopped just a few feet from where Foxen was standing. Savi took a moment to regard the sharply dressed firrerreo with whom Foxen spoke, before shifting their gaze to Mr. Tall-Brooding-and-Handsome himself.

“What a surprise,” they said with a tone of mordant amusement, “I expected you to be off somewhere ruining someone’s day, not rubbing elbows with the Brotherhood’s finest, Foxen.”

“A Zabrak.” Zuza mused, “I’ve only met one Zabrak recently, on an Envoy mission, the others I know are all Arconan. Not sure how much help I’d be with information but if you have any ideas on who might know, could help ya find em.”

She turned slightly from the bar, glancing over the steadily filling room.

Oh for frak’s sake.

Red eyes briefly rolled to the currently inactive airlocks as if debating throwing himself out of one of them. They weren’t in space yet. Wouldn’t even have to figure out atmospheric reentry. Just a bone-breaking drop.

Debating.

The calculation was moot however. He and Flyndt had enough trauma in the zones of each other being injured while apart already, thank you very much.

Stymied as such, Foxen turned his blank expression down towards the encroaching Shani – noting others around them all the while, including the blacksmith – and lifted one pierced brow deliberately.

Night’s young, he said, thanks to the helpful vocal services of the ‘Brotherhood’s Finest’. Still plenty to ruin, as evidenced by your arrival. At least you’re better dressed than your peers.

This was accompanied by a wave to the cythraul crammed under Zuza’s stool, who was currently licking the floor.

Anders sighed, closing his eyes in thought. There was no being subtle, though he had to be cautious regarding who could be listening. Draca’s status among the Children of Mortis might not have spread throughout the Brotherhood, and he did not want to be the one to stoke those flames.

This was a personal matter. Anders intended to keep it that way.

He spoke loud enough that hopefully, only Zuza would hear him. “His name is Draca Zul. He was, I guess you could say, my student.”

‘And friend.’

Anders kept that last thought to himself.

“Oh-” Zuza noticed the lowered tone, matching Anders’ volume, though her eyes lit with recognition. “Well kist me, he’s the one I was on the mission with. It was a while ago now though. How long has he.. yknow?”

She hadn’t spent much time with the young Zabrak but he’d been kind and a good friend for what time there was. Also very speedy at scooping people up and out of the way of imminent danger.

“Not long. It was a recent event. I was the one who recommended him for that mission, actually. It’s a long story, and not one I intend to recall in current company. Let’s just say I have interests in his whereabouts.”

Anders’ eyes darted across the room, checking for anyone listeningin on them. If it was a while ago, then Zuza would likely not know.

The less she knew, the better. Anders didn’t want her thinking ill of the young Zabrak. He wasn’t the enemy, but a hurting, betrayed, misguided teenager.

‘Because of me…’

His hands tightened around his glass, shattering in his subtely Force-enhanced grip.

The deliberate lowering of voice and hushed-toned murmuring of information not wanting to be overheard was like a siren to Foxen’s attention. He didn’t move or look over at whatever the hell it was the Zuza and the Chiss were about, but he did start listening actively on that side. He would recall all of the input anyway to review later, but less focus on the mask of Savran Has was more likely to delay – though not prevent – an oncoming migraine.

Who the hell was Draca?

“Surly Sarlacc, Surly Sarlacc, Surly Sarlacc, Surly Sarlacc, Surly Sarlacc,” Thane replied, not quite sure why Socorra had asked him to do so. Thanks to his accent making the words dance upon his tongue, each “Surly” sounded closer to “Sur-lay”.

As he quickly translated for Foxen once again, he got the unmistakable impression there was negative history between the hybrid and Savran beyond a general distaste for people.

Zuza looked Anders over but if the Chiss was more concerned or bothered than the stress he’d shown earlier she couldn’t tell. Though that certainly made more sense now she knew why he was here.

“Well, I don’t know anything personally. But if I hear anything, you’ll be the one I-”

The glass he held shattered and Zuza jumped slightly in place. Frond looked up with a small whine, getting up and almost turning over the stool to come investigate though he gave the radius of broken glass a wide berth.

Zuza let the moment hang for a moment, processing that that just happened before speaking, “Are you okay?” She was already looking at his hands, seeing blood but not having anything on her to actually wrap or clean with. She just worked to not react overtly. Anders wasn’t really the type to want to make a scene.

A party. It had been a really long time since he had been at a party. A year or more at least. Typically Severin wasn’t a party kind of guy, he liked more intimate afairs, but parties had their merits too. They were good places to distract oneself. And after two months of not hearing from Savi, as well as being stuck on some remote planet for the last month of that, he needed a distraction.

So he answered the Brotherhood’s call like a good little agent. He was brotherhood-adjacent after all, so the invitation had also been extended to him. He had donned a suit of all black to accentuate his white-blue skin and topped it off with a black coat to hide the pattern work of tattoos decorating his arms. His hair had been drawn back into its normal mass of intricate braids bound by a black hair tie.

He had dressed sharp. A hunter on the prowl.

Exiting the lift and entering the main room of the party, ice-colored silver eyes took in the party goers. It didn’t take long for him to pick out a familiar mass of sunset colored feathers.

His chest ached with a literal twinge of pain that caused the Kessurian-echani hybrid to gasp softly. Savi. A muscle in the man’s jaw twitched as he clenched it. The Force liked making fun of him, didn’t it? Trying to be as quiet and unnoticeable as possible with skin as bright as a damn white dwarf, he gave the Shani a wide berth as he made his way to the bar.

He knew he was being unreasonable for being upset, it’s not like he had tried everything to reach out to Savran. At the same time, he felt ignored… tossed away after giving into Savi’s machinations during their not-date. It wasn’t that it wasn’t his fault or anything, he had chosen his place in her life.

It still hurt.

Taking his place at the bar he ordered a cocktail and placed himself at a place where, hopefully, the hunter couldnt see him but he could see her.

Anders looked down at his now bleeding hand, and cursed to himself. This was ridiculous! He’d always maintained superb self-discipline. It was a quality that he thought highly about himself, and here he was, making a scene, smashing glasses, and losing control of the Force.

He was better than that. He expected so much more from himself.

“I am fine. Thank you for your concern. I apologise for the display just now. Bartender, I don’t suppose you have a spare towel available?”

The Chiss then caught the Nautolan out of the corner of his eye, seemingly focused on him in particular? Had he listened in on their conversation? He didn’t know for certain.

“It’s rude to stare,” he stated bluntly.

Kah’ri watched as the bartender popped the cork off of an aged bottle, the deep ruby liquid flowing like blood as he poured. The Quastor thanked the spirits magician behind the counter as he took the glass offered to him.

“I was being facetious,” he said to his new drinking partner, sipping the liquid and offering the glass up to the light. “Cider is good, but at an event like this, nothing says class like a bottle of Dauttice.”

He took another sip before looking at Ellisyn again.

“Small talk is less fun after conversations like we have had before. That said, I do believe you’re not among the clans represented here.” He nodded toward the other patrons before giving her a glance that implied he was asking a question.

“Kark happens, it’s okay.”

Zuza waited for the bartender, noticing Anders wasn’t looking so taking the cloth for him while he spoke to Foxen. She hung it over her wrist for a moment and ignored the comment about staring. Of course people were gonna stare, he just broke a damn glass.

“Do you have a dust pan and brush as well?”

The bartender nodded and as he went to go get it Zuza took Anders’ fingers and made him flip his hand so the palm was facing up to check if any glass was sticking into his hand. Best not to press a towel there and push anything that could be there further in.

When the firrerreo began to translate for Foxen, Savi listened intently. As usual, they chose to ignore the man’s retaliatory jab and focus instead on something that gratified their own ego–and would hopefully get under his skin a bit more than simply firing back another taunt. Folding their arms affront their chest and lifting a hand to trace an invisible line down their tattooed cheek, the shani gave Foxen a quick wink before speaking. “I’m glad you think so, Foxxy,” they said while looking him over again, “You clean up well yourself.”

Savi paused for a moment, taking an extra moment to examine the nautolan hybrid’s hands as he signed. He was missing a finger. They didn’t say anything about it, but they allowed their eyes to linger on the spot where his pinkie used to be before making eye contact again.

The sound of glass shattering brought Savran’s attention to the chiss who had crushed his drink in his hand, and to the human woman who was speaking with him. Wait a karking minute. Savi narrowed their eyes. Then, realization hit. That was the woman who had inadvertently aided in their escape from those Mortis dogs. They recalled the woman storming the halls in a frenzy, killing any of them who crossed her path. So, she’d survived? Impressive.

Foxen made a disgusted noise at the remark and nickname, barely audible though it was from his battered throat in the din of so much grandiosity and general Chiss jackasses breaking Nabooian crystal tumblers. He took one step back, not from the spilled drink/glass but in response to the movement of the damn cythraul whining to its Human, and thinking that much more of the exit.

Didn’t realize you hung on my opinion, T-E-K-U-A-N-I, he replied, considering the name something of an exchange to the Thane for his freely given data mine. And also, to possibly annoy the Shani. I’m flattered. Got an alternative for you: talk to literally anyone else. Ceaseless sanguine eyes took in all around them, so it was easy to pick out a particular pale male humanoid gawping at the Shani with open hurt and want. He pointed over her shoulder directly at the fraker. You’ve got a puppy panting after you, and I don’t mean the damn mutt. Go play with it, not me.

Marek smiled, believing the Chiss was initially attempting to make a joke. Unfortunately, after sitting down for a bit and listening to what the man in front of him had to say, he got a feeling that Apoc wasn’t exactly the most stable individual… but that just seemed to peak his interest even more. “No apologies necessary… I suppose? Well, Nevermind that. My name is Marek Voss. I am of clan Visla and follow- or well, followed- the path of the light side of the force. You appear to be a practitioner of the dark side. I haven’t spoken to many Sith in my life time, if that’s what you are, but I’ve always been… curious about their philosophy. And you seem like a lovely enough chap to strike up a conversation with… so why not? Tell me a bit more about yourself… Mr….?” He questioned, attempting the gauge Apoc’s hostility towards him as he asked.

Since she had arrived, Wenet hadn’t moved from her spot in the grand hall. But, at least she had stopped fidgeting with her suit and her fur was slowly changing to its usual white.

“Can I get you anything?” A server asked her. “Eh… a Tsiraki” she replied. She had no idea what it was or if they had it but she had read it in a drinks menu somewhere. “Ofcourse” the server replied to her surprise and walked away to get it.

It didn’t take long before the server returned and placed the drink on the table “your Tsiraki, enjoy.” and left to serve other guests. “Thanks” Wenet replied and looked at the rather large drink in front of her.

“Oh I thought I had introduced myself already. I’m Apoc of Clan Vizsla. Though I’m relatively new here.”

He would pause for a moment just staring at nothing it seemed, and then resume speaking as if nothing had happened,

“As to your comment about me being a Sith. I am not one simply follow the darker side of the Force. I couldn’t be bothered to be tied to one code or another I simply have my own morals.”

Again he would pause staring at nothing, then just like before continue speaking as if he had not stopped,

“What about yourself Marek, where do you fall in the grand scheme of the Force?”

As he waited for a response he fidgeted and kept staring at his hands as if they were the most interesting thing he had seen in the universe, not seeming to listen but at the same time you could tell he was indeed listening as he kept looking up occasionally to show interest in the man seated across from him.

Selika strode down the boarding ramp of her shuttle Eidolon, the white Sleedaran silk dress she wore swishing quietly as she walked. Awaiting her flanking each side of the bottom of the ramp were two black armored figures, the green visors hiding their eyes fixed firmly upon her.

“I don’t want to hear it, colonel,” Selika said, holding up a hand to forestall any further complaints. “If it isn’t safe enough for me aboard the grand master’s yacht, where would it be?”

“Indeed, but…” came the distorted voice filtered through the Deathtrooper’s helmet vocoder.

“But nothing,” Selika cut him off good naturedly. She then sighed theatrically. “Colonel, if anything does happy you have my permission to shoot anyone that gets in your way. Satisfied?”

“It will do, ma'am,” the leader of her personal security detail replied with a curt nod.

“Thank you, Colonel. Now stop making that sour face beneath your helmet thinking I don’t know,” the Plagueian Consul told him. “It’s a party.”

Leaving her security behind, Selika headed for the main landing bay exit. She was lost in thought as she passed one of the 3P0 units greeting the attendees, filing away his greeting as she kept her attention elsewhere. Though her upbringing had seen her often attending such fancy dress occasions, of late she had mostly avoided them. Her time as Herald mostly saw her aboard the Godless Matron, not exactly the height of luxury, while Aliso still had the feel of a frontier world in many ways. The Grand Master, however, could do what he could to approximate the glitz and glamor of the Core Worlds. She found herself falling back into movements and mannerisms trained into her from almost as early as she could walk.

“I said wait, ma'am.”

The voice pulled her back to the present as she found herself face to face with some form of attendant or another, the well-dressed Bothan breathing heavily. He had obviously been trying to catch her.

“Guests must visit the weapons check over there,” he said pointing at the kiosk where others were handing over their weapons, some more reluctantly than others.

“And where, exactly, do you think I have one secreted away?” Selika said, choosing to play a bit stupid.

The Bothan seemed flustered, as the fur on his head rippled in embarrassment. Before he could answer the mostly rhetorical question, Selika spoke up.

“Fine,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Run your little scanner.”

The attendant did so, the cheery ping his device emitted indicating she was not carrying anything nefarious. Nodding her head, Selika turned away from the staffer and made her way to the lift.

The ride up to the main bar was a short one, with the sound of overly loud music fighting with the smell of exotic food and drink competing with one another as to which would overwhelm the senses first. Selika moved to take a seat at a raised table between the bar and the dance floor, catching the attention of a member of the wait staff as she sat down.

“What can I get for you,” the smiling, emerald Twi'lek asked.

“What are your wine selections this evening?” Selika asked, glancing over the woman’s shoulder to observe the Justicar and Praetor to the Grandmaster in close conversation. The real reason to attend these sorts of events, the power players were always close at hand.

“We have an excellent Chandrilan Blue,” she offered.

“The ‘439?”

“No,” she said regretfully, “I’m afraid not.”

“How about a Toniray?” Selika inquired.

“Oh yes, ma'am,” the Twi'lek said, her smile returning. “We have a rare vintage bottled and shipped off world just before Alderaan’s destruction. A fine choice.”

Selika nodded and the waitress left, just as the sound of breaking glass just barely reached her over the sound of the music that filled the bar. Selika just hoped that her assigned waitress was more capable than whomever had dropped that glass, Toniray was not to be wasted.

Marek smiled, glad to found someone apart of the same clan at this party. “Well, it’s a pleasure to see someone in the same clan here. Can’t say I’m not surprised to see someone like yourself with us, but… I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t relate a bit with your philosophy. In the ‘grand scheme of things’ I suppose you and I are the same in that regard. I left the order quite some time ago… wasn’t exactly… my cup of tea.”

At first, Marek wasn’t sure he liked this guy going off of first impressions, but it seemed like he was slowly coming around to Apoc’s presence. “How long have you been with Clan Visla? And how’s it treating you? Personally, I believe it’s been quite the upgrade in careers for me. Seems much more my style than the usual Jedi business.”

The way Marek held himself might remind Apoc of some of the higher class Sith, having an air of menacing gracefulness. He physically began to ease up a bit, letting himself relax as he continued to communicate with the Chiss.

Savran scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” they retorted, “There’s a difference between accepting a compliment and requiring them.”

Their expression didn’t change when Thane uttered their codename, though Savi did shift their gaze to find the Justicar’s own to see how he reacted, if at all, to the name. Savran turned their head to see to whom the nautolan hybrid pointed, looking past the new arrival in the white dress and laying eyes on Severin. “Yeah, I noticed him when he came in,” they said while maintaining eye contact with the man. “Speaking of puppy panting, where’s the little bird, Foxxy? What was his name, again?…” Of course, Savi had no problem recalling the man’s name. Flyndt. They just wanted to tease him more.

Foxen’s eyes actually narrowed, the only outward sign of the Shani’s little fangs catching under his gills. The Nautolan held up a hand in a stop gesture, a dismissing wave, followed by, your services are no longer required for this conversation, to the Thane.

Instead, he pulled back up his datapad, stare boring into the Tekuani while he typed blindly and turned the screen about.

Going for my throat in only nine sentences between us? Must have found a nerve. Is it your name, your ego, or that simpering snowflake in the braid? Name usage on Uneva didn’t make you bat an eye. Unlikely. Ego? Possible. But I point out that mook and you bring up Flyndt? Probability increases. I’ll take that shot. So let’s be clear here. Make another nice little deal. You keep Flyndt’s name or anything about him shaped like demeaning out of your snake mouth, and I won’t be bothered with meeting Tragic and Lovesick over there.

Ah. Blessed silence.

Her fingertips held the stem of the wine glass to preserve the wine as she took sips while it was still cold. It was a shame that the way to the bridge was blocked by guards. No matter. Evelyn sighed as she reached into her back pocket with her free hand and shook the map paper out a bit more. Observation deck. That was something she could get behind. Folded the paper with one hand and used her leg as a leverage help, she got up and went to the bar. While the Epicanthix hybrid walked, she shoved the paper back into her back pocket.

“Crème D'Infame.” The bartender nodded as she waited. If drinks here were going to be free, she was not going to lose the opportunity to have different wines. Even the rare ones. The bartender slid the glass to her which received a thank you nod from Evelyn while she gently grasped the stem of the glass and made her way to the observation deck and hoping it was empty. She took in a deep breath and smiled at the fresh air while her bright emerald hues glanced around.

It wasn’t.

At least it was just one person.

She recoiled at seeing his outfit. Yikes. Did he have a reason? Maybe she could offer to fix it up. The click of her boots could be heard as she approached him, making sure that he would hear her.

He felt the presence of another individual almost as soon as he heard the approaching footsteps. Glancing over Korvis saw an impeccably dressed woman with white hair approaching, a glass of wine in her hand. Turning back to the viewport he stared hard into the vastness of space. It had a calming effect that never got old.

“Names Korvyn.” He stated as the approaching woman stopped beside him.

“Wyvern. Evelyn Wyvern.” Brought the glass to her lips she took a sip. “If I may be so bold, I always carry a few emergency tailoring supplies. I could fix most of your robe for you.“

Then a small pause, "Unless that’s what you are comfortable with?” Evelyn quickly added. People were weird about their clothes. She would know, she’s one of them. He could be someone who had a war story behind each torn fabric. Or like it as is.

“No, no. That will not be necessary. Just a wet cloth to clean up the mess I made on my hand will suffice. <@432543120635461643> , you can stop worrying.”

The young Human woman glared at him, clearly not satisfied with his answer. Anders silently groaned to himself and rolled his eyes. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d checked every nook and cranny on his hand herself.

Honestly, she was such a worry wart.

“I’m not worrying, I’m fixing it.” Zuza had responded smoothly, rolling her eyes.

It didn’t take long to pluck the few lone shards out, dropping them into the dust pan the bartender brought for cleaning up before handing him the cloth and relinquishing him his hand.

Anders feigned a cough. He couldn’t remember anyone, besides Draca, fussing over him. Not even his own parents had cared once his Force-Sensitivity had been revealed to them in full Force.

“Yes… well… you have my thanks. Where did you learn first-aid?”

“I didn’t. But I know enough about not dying that I can take a few shards of glass out of a hand.” She laughed lightly, though concern still showed in the crease of her forehead.

It was unusual for someone like Anders to just break something like that. It was unusual for anyone to do so just randomly out of no where. The Human was concerned but now that she knew at least part of his troubles regarded a student of his and that there was some level of secrecy around it she wasn’t sure how to ask here.

“I’m good at talking to people and kicking ass. Not havin’ glass pushed deeper into cuts trying to clean it before ya clean it, is bonus knowledge from the second bit.”

Anders supposed that was an upside to being in constant conflict. You picked up on little details here or there that unknowingly would help in the field, and everyday life.

Suddenly, the doors to the bar storage area burst open, followed by a very angry bartender holding a broom.

“I don’t know where ya came from, ya little sithspit, but STAY OUT OF MY NAPPING SPACE!”

The lite droid hopped onto the bar counter, a little BD-unit, and then took notice of Anders, it beeped happily, and leapt onto his right shoulder.

“YOU!” The bartender pointed at Anders and <@432543120635461643> , who was still holding his hand. “That little droid yours!?”

“Yes, it is. I do thank you for finding it. I lost it when I arrived,” Anders answered coolly, almost uninterested in the bartender’s ranting.

Sinya’ni stood and adjusted her dress before stepping out of the shuttle. Looking around, she saw that she wasn’t the only late arrival. She watched as a sentient rabbit in a suit spoke to a droid. She avoided them and made straight for the coat check and doffed her armor weave cloak. Handing it to the droid she turned to enter the main of the ship.

"Welcome aboard the *Exeter!* The weapons check is on the right, refreshers are through the door and to the right by the lifts. The refreshments and stage are on the second deck in the grand hall where the main celebration is taking place. A map has been provided for you and you may message me for more information. Evant would like you to feel free to use the amenities of this wonderful ship and have a wonderful time.” the CPO droid interrupted, having finished with the kusiban. It was not going to let even one guest escape it’s welcome speech.

“Thank you, have a nice evening,” the 4’9” blue Twi’lek responded as she continued past. She stopped abruptly before exiting the landing bay. “Kark it, it’s not worth the risk,” she mumbled and headed towards the weapons check. Even though her syndicate jammer would fool the droids, there was always a possibility that someone might catch a glimpse of the hidden weapon. She removed the vibro knife and turned it in to the weapons check reluctantly before joining the party.

—————

The music was too loud and the conversations doubly so, but the short Rutian sashayed into the main room anyway. Her red nightsister dress stood in stark contrast to her cyan skin. Her dark eyes scanned the room but didn’t spot anyone she knew, so she made her way to the bar.

“Rylothian yurp, please. I don’t have any credits on me,” she said coyly guesturing to the low cut dress, “but you weren’t really going to charge me anyway, were you?” She carefully manuvered herself on a bar stool with as much grace as possible.

Zuza had gasped softly upon seeing the droid.

“Buddy!” As always, it returned to its spot on Anders shoulder. She couldn’t help a soft laugh, it was too damn cute for a droid, “Hi again.”

Wait, yelling, oh BUDD-E had been a little silly.

She looked between Anders and the bartender as they each spoke, deciding she was happy to be uninvolved while it was just yelling and wrapped Anders’ hand. If words were shared that went too far or it descended past that, she was sure Anders could handle it. Wrapping his hand wasn’t a brilliant job by any means. Kriff it was a cloth from behind a bar top, but itd put pressure there until he decided he was done.

With that done, Zuza let herself glance around the room. People were dispersing again, though she spotted two familiar faces. One was Mikhail who she gave a small nod to to acknowledge him. She wasn’t going to drag him over, he wasn’t as outgoing after all.

The second was a Shani she didn’t even know the name of. Nor could Zuza quite recall why she knew them. Nor why they, when their gaze met, seemed to recognise her.

BUDD-E waved one mechanical leg in Zuza’s general direction. Anders, meanwhile, was beginning to dislike this clearly intoxicated bar hand that seemed a bit too big for his shoes, yelling at him.

“My good man, you want to go back to sleep, do you not?”

The bartender went spacey, mumbling under his breath before disappearing behind the bar. Anders saw the look on Zuza’s face.

“Apologies about that. Sometimes a simple suggestion is better than wasting energy arguing.

BUDD-E danced hurriedly on Anders’ shoulder, seeing the damage to its master’s hand.

"I’m fine, Buddy. It’s just a graze.”

Zuza was uncomfortable. But she couldn’t really argue with the reasoning and at least.. it was just going back to bed? She’d seen him do worse on their shared mission after all.

With that in mind, it was easier to shrug off. It wasn’t ideal but it wasn’t like she’d joined in to try and prevent either so it’d be a stupid to argue against his methods.

“Thanks Soccora.” She nodded to the Mando with a soft smile.

“Ah, you must be Lady Socorra,” Anders greeted the Grand Master’s babysitter with a smile. “I do apologise regarding my methods, but I’d rather go about it this way than upset other patrons with further unpleasantness. Lady Zuza here has done a wonderful job patching me up. Isn’t that right?”

<@141239709291511808>

Your solution IS the unpleasantness, pal, Foxen’s fingers drawled, forgetting for a moment there was at least one humanoid present that would understand him if looking. Irrelevant. He was chiefly concerned with the Tekauni’s response.

“Mhm. Just gotta make sure budde behaves- Frond not the stool aga-”

As zuza spoke, the cythraul had decided it was time to return to napping and attempted to reclaim his spot from before. Thankfully people had remained not using that stool as it was once again almost upturned as Frond shuffled under it.

Zuza shook her head with a slight smile.

Casually sipping the glass of Tsiraki, Wenet gazed around the room. She was beginning to feel rather awkward sitting on her own with a drink that was far too big for the small Kushiban. It was a nice drink though, fruity and yet a little sour, “I’m gonna remember this one” she muttered to herself.

By the time she was finally finished with her drink, Wenet already felt its effects. Feeling a little lightheaded “Maybe a smaller glass, next time” she chuckled softly and hopped off her chair. The Curious bunny rabbit decided to wander around the yacht see what she would find.

Anders had to repress the snort from Escaping his mouth. Instead, he settled on a small chuckle. Apparany, Socorra wasn’t just the Grand Master’s babysitter, but was the mother hen of her own flock.

‘Keep staring, and someone is going to assume you like me.’

The telepathic message rang through loud and clear. Yet, he wasn’t done.

‘I have no ill intention towards Lady Zuza, or anyone on board this vessel. If I did, they would be dead, and there would be nothing you could do to stop me. Now, kindly stop the icey glare, or the next time one of your staff threatens me, we will have a real murder mystery on board this ship. I have been cordial so far. Do not push your luck.’

He finished by using his good hand to raise a his replacement glass of wine, taking a sip of the not nearly aged enough liquid. He winced at that.

‘And tell your staff to stock better wine whilst you are at it.’

Zuza unknowinfly stepped away from Socorra’s matronly stance to retrieve Frond.

She couldn’t actually pick him up but it didn’t take much encouragement to get him to behave- oh nope. He was now on the stool.

Frond seemed very proud of himself.

There was a bit of a stir over by the weapons check as a bright red zabrak bickered with the staff there. More accurately, it was a one-sided argument. The staff clearly and calmly stated the rules while Vreva made every attempt to not give up her blade. As was typical, she was armored in a blackened Nightsister’s garb and ready for a fight.

“It’s a family heirloom. It goes where I go.” The zabrak crossed her arms over her chest. Angular tattoos along her arms and legs emphasized her musculature. Her nose wrinkled in a scowl as she looked down at the staff a good half a foot shorter than she was.

They held their ground, however. It wasn’t the first time they had dealt with an unruly Sith, and it wasn’t the last. “It will be safe here, I assure you. You won’t be able to access the venue with any weapons.”

“I don’t need my weapons to hurt someone,” she snarled as she took a step toward the table.

The staff member was unmoved. “Then leave them at the door.”

Vreva threw up her hands in frustration and appeared ready to walk out. However, an enormous and sturdy hand gripped her shoulder. It belonged to a monument of a herglic larger than she was.

“Have some fun. I will stay by the ship and look after your things.” Paum gave her arm a firm pat and took her other belongings from the table as Vreva looked to him in confusion. He gave her a shrug. “Not one for parties. Looks like a big one.”

Vreva nodded in acceptance of his offer, a smile at the corner of her lip. “Thanks, big guy. I’ll give you updates if anything juicy goes down.” She gave him a playful swat on the bicep. “Be my designated pilot after this shindig is over.” She turned her heel and strode off in a straight line toward the bar. A mild ‘hrrmph’ followed her.

Strangers were abound in this gathering. Vreva recognized a couple faces, but the rest were a sea of people with titles aplenty. Vreva had the mere title of ‘mercenary’ with the status of ‘off duty’. To her, this was just a party. A chance to see the top knocked down a couple pegs by way of alcohol. They wouldn’t lower themselves to talk business with the muscle, and honestly she didn’t give a kark.

Vreva slid in next to a well-dressed man and got the bartender’s attention. “Hey, need a tsiraki. This going on someone’s tab? Open bar?” A thumbs-up was her answer, eliciting a feral grin. “Alright, then keep ‘em coming tonight! Guess there’s some benefit of rubbing elbows with these hot shot bastards, hah!”

Clasping his hands behind his back Korvis considered the offer. Closing his eyes he felt the flow of the force but it guided him nowhere.

”I appreciate the offer, but the force says otherwise.” Korvis stated matter of factly. ”The time to repair has not come just yet.”

Evelyn watched his hands go behind his back and his eyelids closed. Well. Her eyes went back out to the surrounding areas before Koryvn rejected her offer. She gave him a nod.

“Very well, sir.”

That was odd. She had never met anyone so dependent on the Force and used it as a way of coin flip. Each to their own. She remembered how some react when finding out that she was a combat pilot.

He seemed to be the quiet type so she didn’t mind being on the observant deck and away from the crowd.

At least until it was time for a refill.

“No.” She sighed, leaning forward onto the table they found themelves at “No it isn’t.” She put the glass she had carried with her to her lips and took a good few big sips before setting it back down, taking some time to ponder how to answer him. “I’m here in my brother’s place.” She drummed her fingers along the table tsked “He couldn’t make it so he asked me to attend for him.”

“Brother?” The Palatinian asked sitting up on his stool, synapses firing in his head. “Wait… your surname is Kendis, right? You wouldn’t happen to be related to Koda Kendis, are you?” He pried.

Anders made sure to keep an eye on Zuza’s cythraul, if only to ensure the seemingly mute Nautolan didn’t decide to lash out at it. His eyes darted across the room, and he made a point of identifying each individual by face and dossier after his mental message to Socorra.

Savran, Wenet, Seven, and… was that the Plagueis Dread Lord sitting all by her lonesome at a table besides the dance floor?

To say Anders was curious would be the understatement if the galaxy, given that he had recently had an encounter with one of her charges on Nar Shaddaa who had, supposedly, under her orders, attempted to steal BUDD-E.

Anders casually walked over to her, keeping Zuza in his peripheral vision, just in case she wished to join them. BUDD-E protested on his shoulder, tapping its feet into Anders with increased pressure.

“It will be fine, Buddy. I won’t let her take you. However, it’s worth investigating, don’t you agree?”

BUDD-E did not. However, Anders did not listen as he approached Selika’s table, making no attempt to hide the little droid from her, like he was showing it off.

“Toniray? An excellent choice, though I do prefer Coruscanti wine myself. Granted, the selection they have here is by far not aged well enough,” he placed his hands behind his back. “Good afternoon, I am Chief Inquisitor Anderson, though you may call me Anders, if you prefer.”

The blue Twi’lek watched as a brash Chiss and his droid caused a ruckus and karking Jedi mind tricked a bartender. “Wow….what an amateur,” she said to no one in particular. A very large Nautolan seemed to take offense. The hostility rolled off creature like a fountain. Sinya recognized the lady that gently chastised the Chiss…hmm…Aha! Yes she was the one that sent the invitation. “He must be a pilot,” she again said out loud. Having spent too much time alone, she sometimes put voice to thought unknowingly. The blue skinned man seemed to bristle and a subtle aggression escaped his emotions as he stared at Socorra. A few moments went by as the bartender brought her the Yurp and Sinya’ni breathed in deeply, letting the heady scent remind her of home.

She saw the Chiss jerk pulled himself from the bar and make his way toward…oh, kark…it’s the dread lord Selika. “I think now would be a good time to tour the ship,” she said as she slipped off the bar stool to exit the room the same way that short furry person did. She disappeared completely as soon as she stepped away from the bar.

Upon hearing Foxen’s veiled threat toward Severin, Savi felt something crack deep within them. Normally, the shani’s ability to keep their emotions in check was bar none. They only ever allowed others to see what they wanted them to see, but the mention of the pathetically sad looking man sitting on the far side of the bar was a step too far. Feeling their face twitch in annoyance with the man’s comment, Savi casually moved a hand toward their hip and mentally cursed themselves when they remembered they’d left their weapons behind. They locked eyes with Foxen while their presence in the Force smoldered, imparting the smell of iron flakes and a nauseatingly bitter taste upon all those sensitive enough to detect it.

Their lips parted, offering the nautolan hybrid a better view of the fangs that hung below the rest of their teeth. “It was a question of genuine curiosity, Foxen,” they explained, “Not an attack on either of you. But since we’re making deals, how about this? If you leave that one alone, I’ll refrain from showing you how I earned that call sign.” They smiled, a gesture that belied the anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Once they were sure they’d made their point clearly, they relaxed a little and scanned the bar again. They shifted their gaze to Vreva and lifted a hand to acknowledge her presence.

Vreva gave a small finger-wave, having noticed her two allies from the last mission have a rather tense conversation. Of course she had to eavesdrop on that exchange. “Glad to see we’re getting along,” she teased.

Once she had obtained her tsiraki, she moved over a few seats to intervene in this heated conversation. “Like a little family reunion, complete with threats of violence.” She took a sip of her drink as her yellow eyes flicked between the Savran and Foxen.

“Par for the course with this one,” Savi said with a wink while gesturing toward Foxen. “Good to see you, Vreva.”

Renora strode up to the doorman clad in full armour. The dark teal plating was accented by silver and near-black touches. Her visor remained firmly in place whilst her vocal emulator sat hidden beneath the fabric at her throat.

She was taking a risk being at the party, after all, and the former Iron Legionnaire had as many precautions in place as she could. Renora was still gathering information, and so much more could be gleamed here. Certainly more than she had managed to get from the Shadow Academy archives.

Standing before the droid, Renora began off-loading her more volatile gear. With practiced grace, she flipped her pistols into hand with a flourishing twirl. They pressed against the desk with a loud crack of alloy on alloy. Then she pulled her dagger free. Followed by a thermal detonator. Flare gun, sensor jammer. The pile began to get surprisingly large but she still wasn’t done. With a grunt of annoyance, the woman unsealed the clasps on her vambraces and placed them criss-cross applesauce atop the pile.

“I expect those back. Untouched,” she stated with her vocoder clicking to life. The emulator pulled upon a recent voice sample collected from a bubbly Twi'lek she had passed on the way in.

“I would just do happen to be related, correct.” She smirked “I’m surprised to hear you didn’t look further into who I was after we parted ways. Been that busy, Kah'ri?”

The Nautolan’s face resumed its default blank of black slate once the Tekuani clarified their shitty question, unconcerned by the threat in turn. It was only equivalent exchange.

And besides. He knew enough about said moniker, and had experience now with her in the field, not only rumor mongering and an underworld reputation. They were arrogant, and likely to underestimate him despite having the same set of rumor/observation reference. Objective likelihood he would be victorious if it came to combat: 79.4%.

But, intel: his guess was correct. The male, whoever it was, mattered to the Tekuani. Deeply. Deeply enough to invoke weapon reach/iron smell/fang bearing. Their smile was a facsimile, and a weak one.

Files updated.

And then: contact. A recognized Zabrak female. The Vreva.

What the hell is this shit, a reunion?

“Like a little family reunion,” the Vreva says, and 1) hey. 2) fraking ew.

Also: par for the course? Pal, we’ve met once, and I don’t make threats, I just state intention. Not my fault you bozos keep acting like assholes, threatening/frightening/mocking the one person you have seen me demonstrably and deeply care about.

Ugh, to be with home and not here. He should get back to that.

Lowering his datapad seemed to cue the Thane that interpretation was once more happening, thus sufficiently preventing the Justicar from being involved in conversing as he fisted Sarlaccs five times fast for Socorra.

I’ll leave that one alone, he said to the Shani with quick fingers ready to be gone. As long as you don’t give me a reason not to. F-L-Y-N-D-T, Flyndt, the name sign he used for the Omwati was a mix of those first few letters, FLN, and a reaching upwards gesture from his chest; at once a bird taking flight, a rising sun, and the birth of hopes, isn’t here. Came myself. Business. Now I’m down with it, so I’m leaving.

- Then, because the Vreva was there, and at least better than the Tekuani, he at least nodded to the Zabrak female.

Evening. You dressed like shit. Armor? Poor choice, V-R-E-V-A. A very sharp suit jacket/no top would serve your musculoskeletal structure/tattoos nicely. Do better.

“Pff, good to see you too. Didn’t know what to expect coming here. Came prepared. And I have to represent, right?”

Not that she took it as an insult. It was a choice, and one made mainly out of familiarity in an unfamiliar part of space. She did look great in a suit. Though topless? She raised an eyebrow at that.

“So what’s this about Flyndt?” She glanced to Savi briefly. “And how’d you get down a finger? Don’t remember any dismemberment of ours that last mission.” She took a sip of her drink. “You back to work so soon? Thought you and Flyndt might have some R&R.”

The hybrid nodded to her explanation. Reasonable. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t brought weapons, confiscated or not. Practicality did trump fashion, often unfortunately.

Would love to be resting and recovering more. Preferably forever. Need it. Both of us. But I have a mission. His shoulder is recovered, thanks for asking. Took five weeks with bacta/healing applications/physical therapies. He paused then, not only to give the Thane time to convey his words, but also to consider how much to tell. The female was being considerate of Flyndt’s wellness. And had been fourth most useful on the Uneva mission overall. Good at killing. Straightforward. Covered Flyndt’s back when injured. Possible asset, possible secondary mission assist.

I bit it off, Foxen decided to relay after 4.6 seconds of consideration, the sign for as much a gesture alike enough to the actual act to make the body sweat. Needed to escape bonds, get back to Flyndt. Captured by enemy. Inventory: standard exceptionally rigorous physical torture methods, non-standard attempt of cybernetic application, supposition: intent to convert. Enemy previously unknown to me. Now identified: the C-O-L-L-E-C-T-I-V-E. Overall wounds were mortal. But Flyndt and my sister rescued. I recovered in six weeks also with assistance. Now back to work. Query: have you encountered them? I’d pay for any intel you have.

Vreva nodded with respect as Foxen gave the run-down. Chewing off your own body part to escape custody? Pretty wild. And right after Uneva, too. They had been busy.

“Haven’t had any direct dealings, yet. But the way my pal, Luka, talks about them they sound like a rough crowd. I came into the area late, but Luka was on the ground when Arx was hit. Not sure how much they know, but I’m sure they’d want to help. Bit of a personal thing with them.”

She set aside her drink and swiped through her commlink to her contacts. “I can send you the details. Stay in touch? I’m on free time until the next job, after all.”

The Nautolan considered briefly then nodded again. He drew his datapad back out and opened two more additional contact fields to go with the tailor of one Morgan B. Sorenn acquired tonight. He inputted the comm codes she gave him, labeling one Pal Luka and the other, Fourth Best Bitch. In turn, he sent her code a message right then.

🦈: Personal code. Business: xxxx.xxx.xx.xx. Appreciated, and an acceptable request in turn. Will maintain check-in status minimum once every three standard weeks. Send you information on possible jobs if you prefer? Also, blazer options. 🦈: [attachment:2931.scrn]

“I er-“ Kah’ri stammered. “Yes, I suppose I have been. I also don’t typically research people I don’t expect to see again…” He trailed off staring blankly into his glass for a moment.

The moment passed and he closed his eyes to enjoy a drink - one larger than most would usually take when enjoying a wine.

“Not to worry,” He assured, winking in the woman. “I’ll soon remedy that.”

He had been spotted. The Kessurian’s whole body tensed, muscles flexed with the need to run under black knit fabric. It’s what he was good at, after all, running. Coward to the bone, flowing through his veins, screaming in his head to hide. Not from the tall Nautolan hybrid that had pointed him out like a child with no sense of reading the damn room, but from Savi who’s eyes locked on him for a moment.

Savi was the one to look away first, sending the biologist back to reality and causing his head to snap to the bartender and take his drink. The liquid was an gradient of blue, one much more rich than the blue undertones of his skin.

One large swig and a third of the drink was gone.

Severin then raised to courage to glance back in Savi’s direction. His jaw set hard at the look on her face, the irritation on her features, her hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there.

No. No. No. Mind your business. Stop being stupid, stop- Even as he was thinking it, his body was already moving from the seat that he was in. He stood, walked over to the group, and gave his best fake smile to Foxen. He made sure to show off his pearly whites, not really trying to intimate but look pretty, weak.

Underestimate-able.

Quickly, fluently, his hands weaved a greeting then continued after.

Hello. Name’s S-e-v-e-r-i-n, or S-e-v. It’s nice to meet you. You know Savran?

Silver eyes were intent of the mountain of a man in front of him, holding off on responding to their wonderful gorgeous host for the time being.

Frond whined slightly, remaining on the chair but calming down. He sat very properly.

Zuza remained close to the pup, looking to Socorra and giving her a grateful look. Marick had been giving her a lot of advice, and it was slowly starting to work but Frond was still in the puppy naughty stages.

Feeling rather bored, Wenet wandered off. She left the grand hall and found a jacuzzi room. Curious as always, she peeked inside. “Interesting” she chuckled but then shook her head ‘probably not a good idea’ she then thought to herself so she continued to wander and eventually found a quiet lounge area, “this looks comfy” she smiled, atleast here she didn’t have to worry about anyone accidentally stepping on her..

Vreva raised a brow at the attachment. The suits certainly looked her style. Foxen was a bit more than what met the eye. He and Luka might get along.

❤️‍🔥: Sounds good to me. And thanks for the fits. ❤️‍🔥: You and Flyndt take care, yeah? Take some vacation time. Breathe for a few minutes.

A brief moment between messages as Vreva considered. She chewed on the corner of her lip. Yeah, best to mention it.

❤️‍🔥: Luka has a nexu, just so you’re aware ahead of time. They’ll leave her behind on meetup if you ask, though. They’re good people. More of a people person than I am.

Vreva glanced up from her messages when she realized she was being partially addressed by what she assumed was the host. “Pleasure. This your party, I assume? Thanks for the drinks. Name’s Vreva. No last name, no title. Just me.”

Well the Vreva had gratitude and wisdom to accept good taste.

Nice, the Vreva.

Foxen registered movement across from the Tekuani from Liquid Courage the Cowardly Puppy as teeth were gnashed and lovesick woe was beheld in a glass, but didn’t pay it overly much mind beyond the sensory input. He was giving the Zabrak his attention, noting lip chewing, and then her continued typing. When his pad buzzed, he read, and the words felt like danger.

Nexu.

The body hated that one. Not as much as reeks and hounds, but still, an amount. The hand almost reached for a spot on the arm, currently covered by two layers of beautiful jet Csillian silk dress shirt/coat, where claws had pulled long coils of ribbon of the skin.

More movement, speech, greetings, etc. The little shit he had literally just said he didn’t care about and didn’t intend to meet was coming over. He typed rapidly so that he could look up at 1.5 m closing approach.

🦈: Critical intel. Helps me prepare. Maybe less horrible traumatic episodes for once. Thank you, Vreva. 🦈: I prefer your amount of ‘people,’ if at all.

Tucking the pad back away, the Nautolan hybrid watched unblinking as the ecru whatever the hell that species was, presumably confirmed male based on the Tekauni’s address, made his approach/display. The lighting caught on opalescent scales along remarkable cheekbones, and he would grant the poser this much: another selection of good taste in black. But approved outfit choices didn’t negate whatever this simpering fawn bullshit was he was pulling, all pearl smiles and politeness.

- Pal, I have eyes and no eyelids and you were dancing in your seat watching us 82 seconds ago. Do you think I’m stupid. Do you think you’re gonna get a medal for being able to understand me?

Who the frak is, he repeated the sign the Severin used with perfect mimicry. Not that he couldn’t infer the thing was likely referring to the Shani, but that wasn’t the point. T-E-K-U-A-N-I. Know? Unfortunately worked with. Not interested in meeting you. Matter of fact, just agreed not to. Bye.

Anders rolled his eyes at Socorra’s first comment about liking him. How juvenile could one person be?

The second and third, however, piqued his interests.

‘I am no mercenary, my dear Praetor. You cannot buy me with credits alone like one of your kind. However, I will admit to being intrigued if it is MY skillset you require. If you wish for my aid, you can start with allowing me access to something that doesn’t taste like a bantha dry heaved into a wine glass, thank you very much. I will come speak with you once i have dealt with my personal business with the Dread Lord.’

Savran rolled their eyes at Foxen’s message. What was this guy’s deal? Sure, Severin was putting on his best sad puppy dog impression, but based on what they’d seen with their own eyes, Foxen was even more of a hoverer than their one-time love interest. Still, the shani cursed themselves for so easily revealing their connection to the man. At least it was with someone whose word they could trust. Well, they could trust Foxen to honor their deal insofar as he understood that if any harm came to the kessurian-echani, then they would be paying Flyndt a visit. And he couldn’t always be with him, as evidenced by the fact that Flyndt was nowhere to be found. “I’m not going to hurt Flyndt, Foxen,” they explained, hopefully for the last time. “My original agreement still stands. And Flyndt and I have an … understanding, of sorts. Surely, he told you about it.”

When Foxen and Vreva began to speak about the former’s ordeal, Savi listened carefully. “Seems like a bunch of us had run ins with them or the Children of Mortis,” they said in a casual tone. The name, they’d learn, was often avoided in polite conversation, but they had no reason to fear a bunch of deranged cultists. “The ticyecohtli got the drop on me. I have the same offer. If either of you have information on them, I’d be willing to compensate you.”

Savran looked around again and looked over to Zuza. “In fact, she was there,” they said, waving a hand and gesturing for the human woman to come over. Hopefully, she’d accept the offer.

The welcome that came from Socorra was met with a nod, though not much else. Not when they noticed Severin making his approach. No. What the kriff was he doing? Savran’s neutral expression concealed the frustration they felt at the man butting his stupid head into their conversation. They didn’t say anything. They just stared at him, and sighed when Foxen mentioned their call sign to the man.

Turning attention away from the thing: Severin, dismissed back to nothingness, Foxen nodded both in acknowledgement of the Shani’s agreement to maintain their deal, and in affirmation that Flyndt had told him of their business.

Explanations of predator/prey species relationship had made him want to do violence. Alas, the Shani had accepted transport back with Minnie, and besides, he couldn’t actually scalp the Tekuani when they and Flyndt had an agreement. It was Flyndt’s business, and he was handling it. Foxen respected that whether or not he felt one way or the other about it.

Besides, listening to the sound of Flyndt’s voice explaining things about his people/anything at any time: the closest to peace he would ever be. The distance was very far indeed, in the haul of a cargo ship surrounded by animals that made the body wish to detach from its skin and flee, but still.

The Nautolan sighed, disfigured hand making the shape of an LU, missing the I, in his coat pocket, secret and safe to someone not here.

Instead he was with these idiots.

Mission, he reminded himself, trying to set all feelings back to ignore. Important intel.

• Children of Mortis
• Collective
• the Zuza had information

She returned his wink with a raised eyebrow, confused as to what he was trying to say. She let out a silent, amused chuckle before looking back down at her glass.

“Don’t take out heart to heart out of context, Kah'ri.” She said with an assertive tone, much more assertive than she intended

Zuza spotted the wave, not catching the conversation in relation to it but wandering toward them after giving Frond a firm command to stay.

He was content on his chair.

Zuza came up, hovering toward the edge of the group. She still couldn’t recall why she knew the Shani but offered a smile anyway.

“Hey?”

The smile was not returned, though Savi did maintain the same unwavering look they often used when something roused their curiosity. “You were there,” they began, never one to beat around the bush. “At the Mortis base. Facilitated my escape, and the escape of several others, if I had to guess.”

Without missing a beat, the saffron-skinned shani reached out to swipe a glass of white wine from off a tray of a passing waiter. “Were you able to gather any valuable intel on them during your escape?” Pressing their onyx-painted lips to the glass’s brim, they took a modest sip while watching for her reaction to the question.

Renora Viru was all but vibrating in her own skin as the lift began its ascent. She didn’t like being unarmed. It limited her options.

Deep breaths. In. Out. In…out.

The doors slid open and she was out of time. The former Legionnaire took confident steps, but her head was on a swivel. How many potential exits? Not enough. Obstacles? Many.

Perfect.

The soft beeps in her helmet acknowledged each time Renora’s gaze passed over a face. She was on the move and found a corner away from the dance floor where she could better observe the area while keeping a wall to her back. Better than a blaster in it.

She recognized…no one. Not one soul. They were all either after her time amongst the Brotherhood or in an entirely different branch. It took three sweeps of the room before she had to narrow her eyes.

Behind the visor, aquamarine eyes locked upon the Justicar—or Atra, as she had known him. He looked different than she recalled. Changed. Not necessarily for the better. His eyes were the most obvious thing, the all-consuming darkness surrounding the gold starbursts. Gone were the grey irises that had once accompanied them. He also had a weight to his shoulders that betrayed how tall he stood. What a shame.

In that moment, Renatus had to glance away from the soap opera playing out in front of him. There was a twinge of familiarity at the edge of his awareness. For all the strength of his memory, the Firrerreo couldn’t place it. Instead, he glanced around the room with a concerted effort. The search yielded nothing of course, but the feeling remained before fading entirely.

How strange.

As the group began speaking about the recent forays against the Brotherhood and its members and affiliates, Socorra’s reaction caught Savi’s attention. The woman seemed intent on moving elsewhere, likely to greet other guests gathered her, but they stopped the moment the Collective and the Children were mentioned. The shift in her body languages wasn’t lost to the shani’s discerning gaze despite the relatively short period of direct attention they’d given her. After all, there were more important matters for them to address–chief among them what, if any, information the human woman could offer on the Children, and why the kriff Severin had taken it upon himself to intervene in their business.

Be that as it may, the Praetor’s interest and thinly veiled discomfort with the present topic was an important detail that they catalogued away. That could prove useful in the future.

“I helped.” Zuza responded shortly, looking awkward.

Internally, she suddenly wished to be anywhere else. Her own kidnapping was bad enough, what she’d done in the Children’s base had.. unsettled her.

She shuffled a little awkwardly on the spot, “Thats why I know you’re face then. I didn’t learn anything that wouldn’t be in a debriefing I was.. a bit preoccupied.” Her smile was strained.

Mikhail has been holding his cold water and lemon drink, listening to the chatter around the room. He gave Socorra a small nod when she greeted everyone, but hadn’t done much else in the way of intergrating, or even really paying attention.

That was until they started talking about the time everyone was captured. A frown crossed his face, and he slightly fidgeted in his seat, memories returning of the event and how he had escaped. His arm was Still sore, even after all this time. He sipped at his water, bright crystal eyes on those talking about it. From just a cursory glance, it seemed the others didn’t exactly enjoy talking about it.

“Oh?” Kah’ri replied quizzically. His eyes widened, the implications of her comment now dawning on him. “Oh! No, no, no, no. I wasn’t- that’s not what-” he stuttered, reeling back from the bar in a non-threatening manner. He sighed.

The Firrerreo cleared his throat and composed himself. “Believe me when I say I’m not interested in pursuing any form of romance at this time.”

Kah’ri stood from the stool, his posture taking a more dignified position. “I am, however, making advances in my career and as such ought to be informed on those with whom I make my acquaintance.” He said politely. His tone matched the bravado that his attire projected. “My apologies for conveying anything…. Ulterior.” He said, bowing slightly.

“I would be remiss to notice when someone is dealing with their own demons and not offer a hand.”

Marru offered a hand out to his fellow Firrereo.

“Would you care to take a walk? This deck is not all there is to the Grand Master’s super yacht and I quite enjoy your company.” The Quaestor spoke very well and wore a gentle smile on his face.

“Preoccupied is one way to put it,” they said, taking note of the feelings of unease reflected in the woman’s body language and the emotions carried on the Force’s wings. Savi raised their glass to their lips and took another sip. It wasn’t the best they had, but the hints of citrus that lingered on their tongue after each sip was enough to hold them over for now. They would be requisiting a more expensive bottle to take back home with them later, though.

“Regardless, your efforts were appreciated …” That’s right. They hadn’t gotten her name yet. “What can I call you? I’m Savi.”

“Zuza. Its good to meet you in better circumstances. Im glad you got out though, along with the others. I’m sure most of you would have but…” zuza shrugged.

It felt like a lie to say it, she was glad but her intent was as much just killing as many of the Children as she could as it was rescuing people. Unnecessary to mention though.

Foxen stared at the Zuza and her useless assurance, drawn out of his pining. Assessment: incorrect. Supposition: unlikely any non A-R-C-O-N-A-N escaped. Enemy was not stupid or inefficient. Clan Jediit came to rescue Clan Jediit. Anyone else, non-affiliated or grunts like myself, not even a thought. Cannon fodder.

“Sivall opened the jails. She killed a lot of the guards on the way to doing that and I killed a hell of a lot more on my way through. There.. were ships. I doubt they all got taken home but we didn’t leave them behind. At least at the base I went to. I’m sorry if we let the ball drop where you were. I would have been more involved but I wasn’t functional for the day after.”

Something about the way Foxen seemed to just.. assume everyone was a piece of kist rubbed her the wrong way. But if he was truthful and they had left people behind there then.. she couldn’t blame him.

“I would have, surely,” Savi said with a shrug. “Can’t speak for anyone else, though.”

Zuza’s explanation conjured memories of a Chiss woman they’d seen briefly during their escape, doing just that.

They shot Foxen a look. “Just because you wouldn’t have saved anyone, doesn’t mean that there aren’t people who genuinely care about helping others.”

The Nautolan shook his head.

Ships, rescue, only because people like you were taken. He glanced at the Tekuani, snorted. Help? Sure. My sister, my partner, came for me. Themselves, alone, because we were prepared for capture. Compassion not the point. Supposition: had Z-U-Z-A and other Clan Members not been taken, nothing would ever have been known. Likelihood my escape, your escape, happened without those distractions of Clan coming for Clan: <11%. It’s not a disruption when the grunts or mercenaries go missing. E-R-I-N-O-S. Armed Forces. Military. Citizens. Not Clan equals not important. Not about you, Zuza. Just fact. Twenty years of it serving.

They had no intention of admitting it, but Foxen was right. They were disposable. But part of them wanted to believe that there were at least some among them who thought differently, who held to the ideals that seemed like they were so much more common during their youth. They shook their head and took another sip of their drink.

Zuza didn’t have a response. She bit the inside of her cheek, swirling her drink slightly but unable to find words. He was right.

It didn’t really help the discomfort she felt over the topic as a whole, with guilt now bearing down on her.

After an awkward few seconds she looked to Savi, “Its good to meet you properly, I’m sorry that I don’t have any real information to give you. I’m sure you can find debriefings that’ll have more to say than I do.”

With that she started to step away, downing the rest of her glass.

/Lounge area/

“Can I get you anything?” A voice suddenly asked from behind the bar when the young Kushiban stepped into the lounge. Startled, Wenet jumped into the air, she didn’t realize someone was there, mainly because she couldn’t see them from her point of view. “Don’t ever do that again!” She responded when she landed back onto her feet.

“My Apologies miss” the bartender replied. “A drink to calm the nerves?” They added with a smile. “Eh… I guess that would be nice” Wenet replied as she straightened her suit jacket. “And what would you like?” The Bartender pointed at all the fancy bottles with drinks from all over the galaxy.. “well. Ehm… a Toniray” Wenet replied, having heard someone else order that drink in the grand hall.. the bartender nodded and grabbed a bottle with a blue drink off the shelves.. of course they grabbed a regular sized glass, “eh… perhaps..” Wenet was about to request a smaller glass but they already poured the drink in…

The bartender brought the drink to one of the small tables, inviting the Kushiban to take a seat. “Enjoy..” they said and returned to the bar.

Selika eyed the Chiss with an appraising eye, her gaze taking in the droid companion with no recognition. She did, however, recognize his accent, The inquisitor had either spent a good portion of his upbringing on the former Imperial throneworld or was affecting that he had. Whatever the case, given his age it was obviously after the fall of the Empire.

Leave it to a Coruscanti to think that an ecumenopolis with an engineered climate and without a patch of natural dirt to its name knew how to produce a decent wine, Selika thought. How typical.

“I’ve always found the Coruscanti vintners to produce… a somewhat manufactured vintage,” Selika said with a hint of disdain. “Master Roh,” Selika offered in greeting, her hand outstretched, palm downward, in the traditional greeting of the Imperial court.

Let’s see if he understands protocol, or is merely adopting a persona.

To the untrained eye, Sinya’ni suddenly appeared in the lounge as she dropped the Force cloak. “Why are people so exhausting?” she said as she set her still full glass of yurp on a table and plopped down on a sofa. She glanced around and saw the short person in the smart looking suit. “Hello, there. What brings you to the introvert party?”

Sitting on one of the comfy chairs in the lounge area, the Kushiban was sipping from a teal coloured glass of bubbly. It was different the the last drink she tried ‘not bad at all’ she thought to herself.

Then suddenly someone appeared out of nowhere and plonked down on of the sofas. “Greetings” Wenet replied to their greeting, she wasn’t really good at socializing. “Me?…eh… I don’t really know anyone so I got bored” she then replied with honesty. “What about you?.. not having a good time?”

“This isn’t really my scene. I can fake it when necessary but I find most people tedious and annoying. The posturing, veiled threats, not so veiled insults…” She sighed, “it’s just so draining. Besides, I recently left a group and there are some of my former bosses in there and I’d rather avoid that drama.”

Elly could barely hold back her laughter, bringing her glass to her mouth to hide her smirk as she watched her company stutter out an excuse and apology. She waved him off.

“Don’t you worry about it. I know you’re not stupid enough to try that after Naboo.” She pulled her glass away to let him see her smirk. “I’m glad you’ve been moving forward, though.” She said before taking his hand and standing.

“And yes, I think that’s a good idea.” The lawyer said “It’s getting a bit crowded here anyway.” Not one to be led anywhere, she took the first few steps and pulled him out of the bar and further into the yacht.

“Can’t say it’s my scene either” Wenet chuckled, “it’s my first party, not counting the harvest festival on Kushibah.” she added and took another sip from the Toniray.

“I was part of a crew before I found the Brotherhood…” she paused for a moment, thinking back about the smugglers crew she was part of for almost two years. “So.. eh.. why’d you leave that group?” In her curiosity she wiggled her nose as she waited for a reply.

Sinya’ni sighed and seemed to sink deeper into the couch. “It’s a long story…bottom line is, I don’t like how they treat people.” She looked at the rabbit, “guess it’s not that long. The last straw was when they had prisoners kill each other while we all watched. Then the last remaining prisoner was executed while he pled for mercy.” She broke eye contact and let her lekku hang limp off the back of the sofa. “I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I’ve been tortured my whole life. I don’t want to be party to other’s misery anymore.”

Vreva watched the exchange silently and sipped at her drink. Yellow eyes flicked left and right as each spoke. At one point, her brow furrowed at Foxen and her gaze remained fixed as she scrutinized him.

“Would you have done anything different?” Vreva questioned, her tone even. She finished her tsiraki and set the glass down on the table.

“Another for me,” she said to the barkeep.

“And a glass of Kattadan rosé for me,” Savran called, tapping their hand on the countertop. They glanced to Vreva while waiting and decided to strike up a conversation.

“Any interesting developments since last we met, Vreva?”

Thane shook off the sensation, his skin colour rippling between pale gold and silvery. It was a Firrerreon trait, but one exceedingly rare to show itself for Thane in particular. Instead of paying it any more mind, the Justicar finished his Surly Sarlacc with a quick gulp and returned his glasses to the bar. Upon his return to the group, he idly wondered if there actually existed anyone the Nautolan actually tolerated.

Besides Thane. He seemed accepting of the Justicar. Like a cat sticking to the one person in the room that didn’t like cats.

Meanwhile, Renora let out a long sigh and reminded herself she was still merely observing. And not so surprisingly she found herself in need of some fresh air. She excused herself as she rushed past several patrons and found her way to the observation deck. There, she broke the seal on her helm and pushed it back. Strands of raven-like hair broke free of the tight braid that kept it out of her eyes while armored up. Her aquamarine eyes blinked as her bangs assaulted her and she quickly puffed them away. Resting upon the railing with her elbows, the woman looked out and allowed herself another sigh.

The hybrid looked back to Fourth Best Bitch as she drained her drink, using the time in which the Thane left and returned to parse the question. However, he couldn’t see the point of what she was asking.

Clarification needed. Done anything different about what? he asked once able, not particularly feeling like playing Pass the Pad Around.

“Grunt work. Not a great thinker so I don’t get as many calls for the interesting jobs. Security detail, shipping, that sort of thing. Been itching for a good fight.” The crimson zabrak flashed a grin at Savi.

Foxen’s response gave her pause. Vreva thought for a moment, trying to bring clarity to her words. Damned talking was not her Forte. “Protect your own, regardless of others in danger. That’s all anyone ever does when kark hits the fan. Wondering what you would have done differently. I get the hurt, though. Doesn’t feel great being on the bottom of the list.”

“That’s a shame,” they replied, taking their glass of wine from the server with a slight nod, “Maybe the next time I find work, I should toss your name into the pool, as well.”

The mention of a good fight caught their attention, prompting the shani to look at her from the corner of their eye. “Not a bad suggestion. I’m sure we could find somewhere on this yacht that’s a bit more private should we grow bored of all this riveting conversation,”

They gave a slight grin while taking a sip of their wine. Nearly three hundred years and they still hadn’t tired of the taste. How lovely.

Ah.

Okay.

Foxen shook his head. Clarity was needed on his part too.

Sympathetic response reasonable supposition, but incorrect. I’m not hurt about being a nothing. I don’t care. It’s just reality. The clan cares about the clan. And I wouldn’t do anything else. Don’t care about other things. Just my people. And what they care about. He paused, then went on. Others are different. Flyndt cares some. My sister cares a lot. Jackass who is supposed to be my brother, he’s one of the kinds that cares about the world. He’s a ‘good man.’ Sacrifice you for the greater good type. I am not. I am a bad thing. I would leave all of you. You are nothing to me. Everything minus three is.

He shrugged at the last.

Useful and competent though. Like your attitude. Put your contact down as Fourth Best Bitch. Hope you don’t die, or at least die well.

Savran shook their head while staring down into their wine glass, absentmindedly swirling it around to aerate it. Faint scents of citrus and petrol were collected from the air by Savi’s forked tongue so they could smell them better. “The fact that you have people who care about you and are willing to risk their lives to save you would suggest that you’re more than nothing,” Savi said flatly, offering no sign of how they felt about that statement in their tone or expression. Foxen, ever the astute individual, would surely note the reply as a display of candor that was a rare departure from their typical acidulous manner of speaking to him.

“The value of that, having people who care, can’t be understated.”

They took another sip of their wine.

Zuza rested on the bar beside Frond. He nuzzled her shoulder, remaining contently in spot but looking at his Human with concern.

The Arconan was struggling all of a sudden. The scars felt fresh again, burning against her skin. A reminder of what had happened, what was visible, what wasn’t as well as the acts she’d committed. Of the acts Arcona hadn’t committed in the past.

How many people had the Brotherhood as a whole left behind to burn?

She didn’t know what to do with such a burdenous thought. There was little she as a lone minor leader within one of the seven clans. It wasn’t her fault. Yet…

Yet.

She still kept as content of an expression on her face as she could, ordering another drink when the bartender had a moment and taking the time to try and form a distraction through alcohol.

Anders gently took the hand, lightly bowing to Selika. “Chief Inquisitor Anderson, M'lady. Though you may call me Anders if you prefer.”

He stood tall once again, watching her every moment down to the flicker of her eyes upon BUDD-E’s visage. It seemed to appear that she had no recollection of the Droid, or she was a brilliant manipulator. Both were equally likely.

“I found that produce can be imported easily enough, though aging the wine within the atmosphere gives it a certain rustic taste that doth please the tongue. If I may, Dread Lord, I would like to discuss something of a personal matter with you. Are you aware of one Hevan Slavis in your charge?”

Agreed, Foxen said with an incline of his horned head. Beyond measure. Unquantifiable. Red eyes slid to the side, once more indicating the existence of the pearlescent placemat he would otherwise ignore, per deal, and then back to the Tekuani. Not all care equal though, is the point. Me mine. You yours. They theirs. Business advice for you, both of you, if you’re going to continue looking for work in Brotherhood spaces: join one of the fraking Clans. You’re jediit, they will take your use. And then they will actually come for you, instead of leaving you for dead or making openings for escape by pure fraking chance.

Her big blue eyes widened, this was definitely not the kind of story she had expected. Blinking a couple of times in shock she stared at the Twi'lek female. “Oh.. wow.. eh..” Wenet didn’t really know how to respond. She was new and didn’t really know much about how things were done in other clans within the Brotherhood, she was still figuring out how things were done in her clan..

“I wouldn’t hesitate to fight anyone on the battlefield, no matter what their size” the small rabbit said with confidence, “but torturing prisoner or make them kill each other.. I.. eh..” she shook her head “that’s definitely not something I think I could do.” She finished her drink in one final swig..

“Oh, Plageuis doesn’t just torture the prisoners. Some of them even torture their own apprentices,” the Twi’lek replied. “But that what you get when you’re a Sith. Pain and suffering seems to be a primary tenet of their religion.” She closed her eyes. “Though it seems like happiness is just not in the Sabaac hand for me. Anytime I find something I love, it is taken from me. So now I just look out for myself. Hopefully I can find a crew I can work with that will just leave me alone when I’m not needed.” She turned to look at Wenet. “But enough about my depression. What’s your story?”

Selika cocked her head slightly as she recalled the details that went along with the name.

“One of our knewer Knights,” Selika answered. “Large, middle aged. Did he offend one of your charges on Kenari?”

Selika let a slight grin tug at the sides of her mouth as she waited to see his reaction to her bringing up the race between the two clans that Taldryan had lost.

Now her jaw dropped, “oh boy.. sound like lovely people” she replied and let out a nervous chuckle.. ‘definitely need to avoid those sith’ she thought to herself.

“My story.. eh… nothing special” Wenet scratched behind her ear. “I’m from Kushibah.. obviously.. pretty dull life, my parents were silkweed farmers and weavers like pretty much everyone else” she rolled her eyes as she thought about home. She never liked the simple life they lived. “I took care of my siblings after my parents.” She paused, her ears flattened “my parents died… I was the oldest, so I raised them and ran the farm untill they were old enough.” Wenet began to smile again, “joining that smugglers crew was my ticket off Kushibah.”

“You remember your parents? What were they like?” The Rutian visibly perked up and turned in her seat to better see Kushibah. She picked up her glass a took a big whiff of the smelly alcoholic concoction.

Apoc thought of it for a minute then responded, “the clan has been quite good to me, helped me begin to interact with people instead of by myself. though I probably have a while to go before I’m one hundred percent better.” he paused to think some more, “Life in the clan is better than as a Sith in my opinion. Not so many stuck up people trying to kill me every chance they get.” he chuckled at this point. “Glad your finding a place in Vizsla. One moment I need a drink” After speaking he got up and went to get a glass of water as the last thing he needed was any alcoholic beverages. The bartender stared at him weird when he asked for the water but the Chiss did not care. He grabbed his drink after it was ready and returned to his seat across from Marek, drinking his water and saying nothing else for the moment.

Speaking of time for refill, emerald hues glanced at the glass. For a few moments, she glanced up at the sky while leaning forward and relaxing her hand, tilted the wine glass sideways. Was it really worth it to go back inside just for more wine? She could always go in, fill up, and come back out. It was nice out here. There were sounds of footsteps as Evelyn turned to glance behind her. She watched the Mandalorian remove her helmet and took a deep breath. Now there was someone she hasn’t seen on the list. Evelyn made a point to at least do her best at knowing who was going to be here. As a soldier at this party, it was always good to know who was superior to her here.

And there are many. Why was she even here?

The pilot realized she was staring at the Mandalorian while spacing out. With a soft amused chuckle to herself, maybe it was time for a refill. With a bow to Korvyn, whether he saw her or not, she started to make her way back inside.

Renora caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Her head snapped towards it with momentary aggression before her face softened once more.

The former Legionnaire offered a nod of greetings to Evelyn before looking out across the way again.

“I just mean everyone’s got their priorities, but I get it.” Though Vreva decided not to push the matter further, a roll of her golden eyes showed her frustration. A hypocrite, but definitely someone she would want on her side. Best to just hold her tongue. ‘See Lu? I’m learning,’ she thought to herself.

“Fourth Best Bitch, huh? I like it. May you live well and die hard.” She raised her drink in mock toast. “Maybe we’ll fight alongside each other again. Wouldn’t mind it. And I’ll take your advice. Luka’s in deep with their clan like family, so chances are I’ll follow them to keep their ass off the fire.”

She hadn’t ignored Savran’s comment about slipping somewhere private later. However, business first. “Wouldn’t mind training under some other jediit, huh Savi? Though im not sure who would take me on.”

Lacking a glass, because he absolutely wasn’t drinking, Foxen just mimed the toast back as though holding champagne.

So, they could agree on something that wasn’t related to violence. They didn’t know what they would do with that information, but they took note of it, nonetheless. Savran nodded in appreciation of Foxen’s advice but felt the slightest of twitches in their face at his use of the term jediit to refer to them. Although they understood it was often used colloquially to refer to Force users in general, but the closeness of the word to the more common jetii bothered them a little. They said nothing of it. Instead, they chose to address Foxen’s comment.

“If you’ve served them for as long as you claim, then surely you’ve proved yourself to be an asset worth keeping around,” they said. They operated under no illusion that the clan’s leadership cared about people like Foxen, but they should at the very least consider him valuable enough to put some kriffing effort into saving.

There was that word again. Jediit. They were a jetii no longer, and they had no intention of training under one. They had one master and no one would ever take her place. But the advantages of having an entire clan behind them was something Savi couldn’t ignore. “The master - apprentice dynamic doesn’t interest me,” they said coolly, “but I wouldn’t mind having more people to help sharpen my skills.”

A twitch of the Tekauni’s face caught Foxen’s eye. Twice, a pattern, and, the mind noted, both at when the Thane voiced his own use of the word – approval, the Thane, having any Mandalorian vocabulary in your Sign. Does he know Mando'a. Test necessary – and when the Vreva echoed it with inferior pronunciation.

The Mando'a itself being cause: unlikely. Evidence: witness of the Shani understanding their language on Uneva. No twitches then. At least, not for that.

Supposition: relation to topics: * Jedi * Clan (of) * Master-apprentice (you’re the one that brought that specific terminology up, pal) * improvement of skills

Despite their arrogance, the Tekuani professed interest in sharpening skills. Unlikely on the last point. That left three others.

Hmm.

Files updated.

I am an extremely valuable asset, he confirmed with a nod to the previous assessment of his worth. This is known. See: even at my most compromised, inventory: Uneva mission, inventory: repeated application of panic trauma response at every single animal, I am still objectively second most useful mission asset. My record is very good. Minus the last five years of decommissioned self. But I am not a jediit. He uses the word deliberately now in search of any twitch, though it is also the most suited to the conversation. Not one of them. Significant decrease in investment/expenditure. If any of them knew my name beyond some list of A-A-F bodies somewhere, I would eat the finger I bit off. Just doesn’t happen. Or it didn’t used to. I have missed…much. See: new enemies, Collective, Children of Mortis, etc. New leadership. New ideals. Perhaps my intel is outmoded and outdated, and updating required. Perhaps not.

He shrugged, then flexed his bad hand as it ached.

This was approximately 203% more talking than he had anticipated, and that was still before walking in and running smack into all the intel he wanted.

Vreva inhaled with a hiss at the mention of master and apprentice. On second thought that was not likely to be a good idea. “Yeah, I don’t like feeling like I’m some tot who doesn’t know how to lace up their boots. Only master for me is the one that holds the creds… that sounded off. Nevermind.”

She waved off the topic and took a long sip of their drink. After considering for a moment, she piped up again. “Honestly, you’re damn impressive, Foxy. Kept up with the lot of us on Uneva.”

Anders scoffed. “Please. I could care less about the scuffle between the two Clans on Kenari. That was before my association with Taldryan. What I do care about are your newer Knight’s actions on Nar Shaddaa. He attacked me, and attempted to steal my droid, supposedly on the orders of his summit.”

Anders watched Selika closely for the truth.

Kah’ri sped up to catch the woman at the other end of what felt like a tow cable of an arm and made an effort to link their arms together.

“Alright then.” He said, surprise still lingering in his tone. “Where to first?”

After entering the ship, the furry feet followed the sounds of the music to the second deck. The bucket was in a strong grab of the paw, and social anxiety started to kick off in Reds paws. He put on the Envoy Corps Threads, covered with gray scales poncho - he was hopeful that this will help him blend into the environment of the ship. Only one part of the clothes which was standing aside from rest was a straw yellow hat, which Archian kept from his trip to the Nayama Islands.

He walked inside of the large area full of the bars, and a stage with DJ on it. He nodded to anyone who spotted him at the entrance, and directed to the nearest drinks serving area. He put his bucket with care at the table in front of the barman. “Would you have any strong nitro-stout at the tap today?” He asked

Evelyn stopped in her tracks when the female’s head spun with slight aggression and the features on her face relaxed. She felt her heart jumped for a moment when she thought she was going to have to defend herself.

Returned the small nod, Evelyn had made her way out of the deck and back to the quiet lounge. Just as she feared. There were more people now. At least it was not crowded and the Kushiban as well the Twi'lek were engaged in conversation.

Placed the empty glass on the bar as the bartender took it away. “Crème D'Infame.” The bartender nodded as they got a new wine glass and filled it up. When it was handed to her, she grabbed it by the stem and headed out before anyone could talk to her unless stopped. She remembered the map. Studied it earlier, she knew the layout of this yacht. Well, the layout that she was given anyways.

Decided to try her luck, Evelyn made her way over to the other bar area and was pleasantly surprised to find it empty.

And exactly how many bars were on this ship? She mused and counted in her head while sitting down between the bar and wall, so she could keep an eye on who comes in and out.

“Okay, I’m going,” a voice snapped from behind a closed door followed by a loud bang.

“It opens inward you twit,” an gruff voice could be heard between sighs of exasperation. As the door pulls back it reveals Komilia Lap'lamiz, the currently outcast daughter of Emperor Kamjin Lap'lamiz of Scholae Palatinae.

For those who knew her she looks worse for wear following her very public failings on an Intelligence mission and having her soup drank by a hungry Anzati. Her bluish-gray eyes’s no longer twinkle, as if the starburst pattern has imploded into a white dwarf.

Her long hair appears hastily done up into a bun while brittle strains poke out. Her make-up shows the application skills of a novice who was accustomed to high society and retains the aspirations of the design but crudely done.

She was modestly dressed in the style of a waitress and awkwardly cradled a serving platter to her chest as she began to walk through the assortment of patrons.

“Anyone need to place an order?” Komilia meekly asked.

This time, there was no such twitch. They didn’t say anything this time. Instead, Savi gave an understanding nod before moving on to address Vreva’s comments. “Well, if that’s how you prefer to spend your evenings, that’s totally fine, Vreva,” they said while cracking a grin. “And yes, Foxxy is very impressive. His style could use some … polish, but he certainly knows his way around a weapon or two.”

‘Style’ what you call inefficiency? Inventory: licking your sword to apply venom, hissing at T-E-R-G-A, playing with your food? Pass. My knives are polished perfectly. The lull in his sentence this time didn’t require translation, as his middle finger saluted the Shani. Also: don’t fraking call me that. F-O-X-E-N.

Savi shook their head. “I was off my game that day. I know you can recognize a competent swordsman when you see one, *Foxen,” they answered, rolling their eyes and offering him a mirrored salute. “If we end up on a mission together again, I’ll show you that finesse doesn’t come at the expense of efficiency.”

Competent, conceded, the Nautolan acknowledged, and while the words were plain and his face stayed blank, the flick of his gesturing contained a certain…snark. Maybe next time, I’ll be impressed.

Vreva nearly spit up her drink when Foxen fluidly flipped his middle finger at Savi in the middle of his gestures. “Right, Foxen,” she said as she sputtered and coughed to regain her breath.

“So what I’m hearing is that we should train together, yeah? Work out some of this tension between us and learn a thing or two? Bet we’d be swell pals afterward.” She gave a big shrug and leaned back against the bar. Unlikely, but worth the shot. She had a strange liking of the two. A kind of ‘hate the world together’ sort of thing.

Oh.

Ugh.

Sexual tension.

And he was standing between them.

Foxen’s expression twitched briefly in disgust, a there-and-gone flash more typical of someone having an insect fly at them.

The Nautolan promptly sidestepped to relocate 0.3 m away from the bar top itself which the Vreva leaned on in a sprawl that would have done much better in a suit than rough armors. Perhaps the Shani’s pale treasure could fill the vacated spot.

Pass, he said, thanks to assistant the Thane, *but you two have fun rolling around. Fighting not desired at present. I am,“ abruptly, his hands stilled. A furrowing brow was more easily visible on his stony, speckled coal face thanks to the gold that pierced them, and the sharp, flawless lines of his breasted and buttoned coat shifted down with the smallest slump of large shoulders.

I am tired, Foxen finished simply, hands reverting back to more rote motions, like a tone might drone giving a report.

Vreva squinted at the disgusted look on Foxen’s face, but nodded in understanding. After all Foxen had been through in the past months, she would want the same. Peace and quiet. Though she doubted that Foxen would ever allow himself to rest for long.

“Nah, I get it. You rest up. The offer’s always open. Take care of yourself, Foxen. Really.” She appeared genuine in her words. A kindness and softness she didn’t show to many.

‘More now since Uneva,’ she thought. ‘Must be losing my shell. Lu should be happy.’

The genuine encouragements were unexpected and unreasonable. This was kindness.

Why.

Identified: confusion. The Vreva had not seemed as fraking insane as the Karran, who’d started calling him a friend (ugh) after their ill-advised spar, but two Zabraks offering well wishes after combat engagement – in which he did nothing for them in merit of exchange – was a pattern. Though, one Minnie’s trash boytoy broke from. His reactions were categorized: reasonable, expected outcomes.

Maybe it was a pointy headed thing. Jax would know better, but then, Jax gave a damn.

At least, when he approved of you.

Foxen dismissed the thought. Jax’s status was set to ignore indefinitely. Irrelevant. Instead, he nodded to the Vreva.

Trying to, he affirmed in report. They were trying. Not always successful, but continuing to try. But still there was mission. Thanks.

Archian gently raised his paw to the waitress who walked in through the back doors. He needed to eat something alongside good nitro stout. He dreamed about a good, tasty and fatty meal.

“I assume the beasts you mentioned took your siblings as well?” Sinya’ni inquired. “I didn’t have any siblings that I know of. But I had lots of friends in the orphanage.” Her face turned a dark mix of sorrow and anger as she smelled her drink. “Seems you finally left your home. Is it everything you imagined?”

“I hope not!” Wenet exclaimed. “My parents brought us to safety before they tried to scare off the Xinkra with torches. I.. eh..” her ears flattened again “I tried to help them when the Xinkra grabbed them. But I wasn’t strong enough” Wenet pointed at the two scars across her face. “If the villagers didn’t come to help I.. I would have been dead aswell..”

Shaking her head she continued. “My brother was twelve when I left, almost an adult, the twins ten.. they are running the farm now.” She smiled softly before answering Sinyq'ni’s question. “It’s definitely not like how I imagined.. there have been some rough times, especially in the beginning. But now.. I’m going on any adventure I can” she said toothy smile.

“So.. eh.. how did you end up here? With the Brotherhood I mean..”

“Well, I was recruited. My master, Aleister, found me hiding out on some backwater planet and trained me. Made me into a weapon, for better or worse.” The Twi’lek closed her eyes and drew in a long calming breath. “Most of the time I think it was fore the worst–. Hey, isn’t there food here somewhere? I’m starving.”

“I believe there was a buffet with food in the main hall” Wenet replied and hopped off her chair. “Ooh” she felt a little dizzy, probably because she had two big people drinks.

“I don’t have a Master, guess I need to prove myself first” she said as she began her stride back to the main hall.

A self-satisfied grin appeared on Savran’s tattooed countenance when Foxen acknowledged their skill with the blade. They normally didn’t concern themselves with others’ assessment of their skills except for when it affected how much they’d get paid. But being able to get the hulking nautolan to deviate from his usual laconic responses and even add some snarky gesticulations to his signing, which was translated amusingly well by the Justicar.

Vreva’s suggestion caught their attention. “I wouldn’t mind it,” they said, “Though, something tells me Fox–”

They paused when he began signing again and gave an understanding nod when he explained how he was feeling, their eyes drifting to the place where his missing finger should have been. “She’s right. Even people like us have to give ourselves a break. Especially after everything that’s been happening recently,” they began, their tone softening a bit, as well, though still mostly aloof. “You can ask for help, also. I know that isn’t really your way of handling things, but I don’t need to inform you of the advantages of having contacts who you can trust to get the job done.”

Komilia maneuvered through the denizens in the bar to the Shistavanen with his paw in the air. “Hi, I’m Komilia, may I take your order?” she said as if she had had the greeting drilled into her head.

“So this is what passes for being in the know for the Taldryan Spymaster?” Selika scoffed playfully. “I guess I owe my own counter intelligence service a compliment. No, I did not send anyone to steal your droid.”

The last was delivered dripping with disdain, as it was obvious the Dread Lord had no interest in his little plaything.

“It is often most convenient for those that serve to hide behind the skirts of their betters,” Selika said, making obvious reference to both herself and the Supreme Chancellor. “We do make for a good boogeyman.”

“Indeed, as does hiding behind the people you are meant to serve,” Anders said, noting that she was very quick to bring up the two Clans. A defense mechanism, maybe?

“It appears they do not consider you a threat, if the current Supreme Chancellor did not bother to inform me as such. Regardless, I am not here acting as Taldryan’s Spymaster. This is a personal matter that I wish to resolve as civilised adults. I hold your skills in high regard, Ms Roh, and I appreciate your honesty in this matter. Did Mr Slavis happen to return to the Aliso System after our confrontation on Nar Shaddaa?”

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“Master Roh,” Selika corrected him. “As far as Slavis, I’m sure he did. I don’t seem to recall any extradition terms within the Canto Bight Accords, so were you needing me to fight your battle for you?”

Selika’s tone was that of thinly veiled mockery, her face a look of overly innocent concern.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have taken you as one to run and tattle on someone, Chief Inquisitor.”

“I’m not,” Anders maintained his smile, undeterred by Selika’s patronising. He’d dealt with worse. “That battle has already been fought, and the victor clear.”

Anders made it known to Selika that he was the one who had won.

“I simply wish to state that under the Canto Bight Accords, subsection 12.2B, if Mr Slavis makes another attempt on my life, then I have the authority to deal with him however I see fit, including death. Would you be so kind as to let him know for me? I sadly left him to rot with whatever Nar Shaddaa considers Law Enforcement before he had a chance to give me any way to contact him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did Knight Slavis injure your fingers during your battle? Have you been having trouble working your comm unit?” Selika inquired, her tone filled completely with condescension. “I guess that would explain your issues with the wine glass earlier.”

Selika now took on the mannerisms of a fretting mother. “I guess, in light of your grave injuries, I could be persuaded to pass along your message. It is the absolute least I could do to compensate you for your pain and suffering. It is my genuine hope that our Knight does not inflict any more harm upon you, Chief Inquisitor. I just do not know what I would do…”

“Well,” Anders shrugged. “You’d have one less Knight to worry about. Though I’m sure since you seem to be having issues keeping those in your charge under control, I’m willing to say that I would be doing you a kind service.”

Anders spoke in a casual tone, choosing to ignore the Drama Queen theatrics that were coming from the Plagueis Dread Lord. He refused to let it get under his skin like she wanted it too.

“I sincerely thank you for passing along my message, and I am charmed by your concern. Please, do not let it spoil the rest of your evening. I would detest having that on my conscious. I will leave you to sit and enjoy the rest of the party. Have a good evening, Ms Roh.”

Anders turned and left Selika to her musings, satisfied that he’d received the answer he sought for regarding Hevan’s actions on Nar Shaddaa. BUDD-E waved one mechanical leg mockingly to her as they disappeared from sight.

Now, Lady Socorra said she had a job offer… perhaps she was the one with information on young Draca? Perhaps, but there was only one way to find out.

The big question was, where was she?

Selika smiled as Anders beat his retreat, even returning the small droid’s wave. It was a shame that he’d thrown in the towel so quickly, and even more disappointing that he’d fallen back on trying the same insult twice. Even with that, though, she had to admit to herself how much she had missed this. Being Dread Lord left some room for verbal sparring, as there were always political machinations of some form or another.

Especially with Alaris Jinn around, she thought to herself.

But when you are sitting on the throne, it is almost too easy to be able to use the position of authority to win. Facing those who wouldn’t be cowed just because she was “in charge”, so to speak, was something whose absence she had not recognized since her time on the Council. Oh yes, tonight was going to be fun.

“Another, please,” Selika requested, catching the eye of one of the wait staff as she gestured towards her empty wine glass.

Vreva crossed her arms over her chest as she listened to Savran advice to Foxen. “Always can get further when you got someone watching your six. I look out for my squad.” Again, genuine care. Meant every word. Though she toted herself as being selfish and cred-focused, she couldn’t help but care a bit for the people she fought alongside. She needed some sort of topic change, otherwise she would risk looking too soft.

Her gaze drifted down the bar and she noticed a familiar Shistavanen with curly auburn fur. “Speaking of the squad, there’s Archie.” Vreva gave a small wave to the Shista in acknowledgement. “Feels like a real family gathering, now. Did you all plan this?”

Archian awkwardly smiled as usual he did during social interactions. “Can I have Porg Wings in Mild Sauce, Bantha Steaks, and Crispy Borcatu Scratchings please? And could I have some Nitro Stout please in this bucket?” He took out the credits, and gave more than enough for all of these three dishes with drink, and followed by showing the bucket which was in front of him. “Please keep the change as a tip.” He added. “By the way - do you know by accident if there are any other Arconas at the party? Just wondering.” He asked politely.

After explaining his order Archian spotted someone waving to him. Vreva! He recognised the person, and waved back. He also raised the paw to Savi and Foxen who were there as well.

If I planned this, the food would be better. Also: it wouldn’t be happening, and I’d be napping with Flyndt right now, Foxen expressed with a huff, some of the monotone leeching back out of his motions. His sanguine gaze briefly followed the Archian up to where he disappeared on the second deck. Asshole.

Komilia nodded along while taking the credits offered. Not bothering to write down a thing she bustled off to the the bar. Her face scrunched up as she punched the order into the POS system.

As she waited for the order she fumbled with the credits, counting and recounting how much to put into the till versus pocketing as a tip.

A short moment later the bartender added her a Nitro Stout. She placed it gingerly on the tray and painstakingly balanced it as she navigated the crowd.

Presenting the drink to the wolfman she beamed at her assumption of success. “Here you go. Thank you for the tip,” Komilia said, before turning to look for another customer.

“Thank you and You’re welcome” He answered not to bother much with missing food, but he was happy from the Nitro Stout - he started to get thirsty. He smiled at her and watched her walk away.

Komilia did a little skip-jump at her first order. Beaming with apparent success she paused, knowing she forgot something. Snapping her fingers, it came to her. She rushed back to the wolfman. “Oh, I nearly forgot. You asked if there were any Arconans here and there are none here. I would have thought you’d be able to recognize them given those weird t-shape heads and glowing yellow eyes,” Komilia beamed at remembering the additional request from her first customer of the evening.

Bouncing off again, she rang out, “Anyone need to place an order?”

Komilia’s face contorted in concern. She had done a good job and was fairly certain she had gotten a good tip. Komilia followed behind the elderly woman, careful of the door.

With their arms linked, she led them out of the bar and deeper into the ship. “I have no idea. Just making it up as I go.” One thing she knew for sure was that she definitely didn’t want to try and hold a conversation in that crowded room.

Once most of the noise was behind them, Elly felt as if she could finally breathe again. Just because she was used to attending, these events doesn’t mean she felt like she belonged. She broke away from Kah’ri and leaned against the wall, sliding down just a bit. “If there was one part of my life I’d happily give up, it would be parties like this.”

“Nah, they’re not too bad,” Kah'ri said nonchalantly, “I mean the fakery is a bit much sometimes, but when you go from street rat to art ‘collector’, you tend to tolerate a lot.” He smiled at the other Firrerreo, his eyes shimmering a bit in the dimly lit hallway.

From behind him, Kah'ri heard a door fling open and a server spun around the corner with a tray of food clearly meant to replenish the tables in the main hall. He waited until the server passed in front of him before snatching a circular pastry with a frothy icing in the middle of its recessed center. His eyes lit up as he ate it.

“Oh, you have got to try one of those when they’re fresh!” He said, looking back at Ellysin.

He heard more noise from behind the door, like more servers were preparing to replenish…

Sinya’ni joined her and two of the shortest attendees made their way back to the crowded main hall.

Zuza had perked up in the last several minutes. Frond was still on the bar stool but he’d calmed down quite a bit and was contently observing the room as his master started her now third drink. Not that it was particularly hitting her yet. She had a decent tolerance though, despite being quite tiny.

There was a warmth to her cheeks and that was okay enough for now. It brought a smile back to her face and let her relax.

She glanced over the room, spotting Anders walking away from some lady who looked quite pretty. She wondered if the woman was one of the one’s he suspected knew anything but that was a question for Anders himself later. Foxen and Savi had been joined by others and were all chatting. A few others meandered, chatting. It was nice to see so many people together in the same room, despite affiliations.

Mikhail couldn’t help but occasionally shoot a look at the Canine creature that was up, sitting on a stool at the bar near him. It was at least.. mostly well behaved. He had gotten a refill of his water and lemon drink, still nursing it as the party continued on. He was content with being a wall flower, watching and listening to the conversations that occurred around him. Whatever elbow rubbing he had intended to do was decently stymied by his hesitation to interject in a conversation.

His eyes eventually drifted from the animal to its seeming owner. He had met Zuza before, if briefly. They never spoke beyond some paperwork when he volunteered, and then what words she said to him after they escaped. His teeth gently bit into his tongue, recalling that event once more. As he was slightly zoned out, Zuza met his gaze. He snapped out of his mind and sat upright. He nodded at her, then gave a slight wave with his empty hand. “Hello.” He suddenly wanted to jump behind the bar and drown in alcohol.

Zuza had just felt her neck prickle, realising that someone was staring when Mikhail looked awkward and avoided her gaze. She smiled, resisting the urge to laugh knowing it’d probably just make him feel more awkward.

“Heya. You doing alright?”

“I’m doing fine. Just.. lost in thought. Happens sometimes.” He brushed off any concern with a shrug, then took a deep breath to softly sigh. “And you?”

“You’re fine.” Zuza waved a hand, chuckling softly, “I’m good. It’s been a good night so far, plenty of people to meet though I’ve not wandered yet. Wanted a couple drinks first and I got side lined by a friend before I reached the bar so, distractions.”

A bright grin crossed her face, “I didn’t think you’d come. Glad to hear you got the invitation.”

Komilia had a puzzled look on her face as she looked at the tray and the datapad. “Who is this for?” she asked. “What lady are you referencing,” Komilia craned her neck to look back into the bar area.

Komilia, not seeing who was being referenced shrugged and turned back to the elderly woman. “I’ve been traveling around a bit. My memory’s a bit hazy but it’s getting better.”

Anders, however was of the opinion that he had absolutely nothing else to discuss with Selika. Why waste his time with someone who had the maturity level of a prepubescent teenager? He got the answer he wanted. That was good enough.

The Force appeared to be on his side as he noticed Socorra standing not too far away from him.

‘Lady Socorra. I have finished my business with the Dread Lord. You mentioned something about a line of work that might interest my skills?’

He sent the telepathic message through loud and clear.

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“Well.. I figured it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to get my face out there more. Hopefully it might stick in some important peoples minds.” He idly gestured to his head, not having the mention the crystal scarring that spiderwebbed across his cheek from his neck. As far as sticking in people’s minds, he likely had an easy time of it whether he wanted to or not.

“I am not one for parties usually, you are correct. I tend to have a better time spent in my work. But there’s only so much progress one can make over the course of a week without being totally mad.” He offered a half smile that faded over a second. He took a long drink then, eyes shifting around the room.

Elly’s face held a pleased smirk as she watched Kah’ri snatch a treat from a passing server. This was more like the man she had met on Naboo. Not some fake-faced diplomat, but a fun-loving thief. She pushed off the wall lazily and walked over to her fellow firrerreo, swiping some frosting off the top of his ill-gotten gains with her index finger, giving it a quick taste and earning a glare in the process. “You might be on to something.” she chuckled mischievously. Maybe this party wouldn’t be the hell she had expected.

“C’mon,” She waved for him to follow as she started further down the hallway. “Maybe we’ll find a lounge or a quieter bar. I think I saw another one on the map” Elly didn’t allow herself to drink at home, and since she rarely went out to have any sort of fun so it was nice to indulge.

Komilia nodded her assent.

“Oh, it’s gotten more crowded” Wenet muttered as she entered the main hall. She spotted the buffet on the other side of the hall, but to get there she would have to navigate a path between the legs of all the tall people.

The Kushiban sighed, “here it goes” she said to herself and began to hop across the floor, zigzagging between other guests untill she finally reached the buffet. But Ofcourse the table was to high for her to see what type of food they had.

“Well you’re not forgettable Mikhail.” Zuza smiled, sipping her drink. “I’m glad you’re getting out. Definitely not healthy to stay up in the academy all the time. Not just for research anyway.”

“Ehh.” He looked down at his drink, chewing the inside of his check. He would be more than happy to simply shrink back against the bar and disappear. But he felt like he had some sort of duty to be here, and be present, in the moment. His face twisted slightly, uncomfortable and uncertain.

“Yeah. Maybe. I’m not…” he looked around the room at the clusters of gathered people talking, invested in each other’s conversation. His jaw clenched and he set his glass down. “I’ll be ok.” He finally stated, gaze returning to Zuza. His face was set in a serious, hardened expression.

“Are you sure?” Zuza asked gently, a slight frown creasing her forehead. “It’s meant to be a party. If you’re stressed, you don’t have to be here.”

He shook his head and took a drink, then let out a breath with a half smile. “I’ll manage. I’ve been in worse situations.” He shifted in his seat, then gently tugged at his high collar as if he was trying to cover the back and side of his neck better.

“So?”

Zuza looked at him. She knew what the statement meant, what he meant by it but kriff. It seemed a bit counter productive.

Sinya’ni entered the main hall and looked around for the buffet. Seeing her kushibah companion zigzag her way to the other side, she followed only more in a straight line. Deftly sliding past some, gently moving others out of the way with a gentle nudge With the Force until they were at the buffet table. She grabbed a plate and walked along the side of the table. Food , mostly meats and a few fruits, began adding themselves to the plate seemingly automatically.

Komilia didn’t quite know how to respond as she navigated her way from the kitchen to the wolfman who had ordered. As the swinging door hit her on the rear she wondered what the old lady had meant about her father.

She knew he was important but it was like viewing someone coming towards you on a foggy night. She knew how she felt but couldn’t picture him clearly. Was he someone important? Clearly the way that woman spoke made it sound like he was.

“Sorry, I think you ordered this as well,” Komilia half asked as she set the tray down on the table to pass out the food. Komilia picked up the tray after successfully passing out the food, though not having the wherewithal to provide correct change nor put the difference in the till.

Looking through the crowd she finally noticed the lady that was being referenced. If her father was important and this lady was important…maybe she’d be a big tipper? Something in the recesses of Komilia’s mind she felt like her father was rich.

Komilia made her way through the crowd and approached the table. “Hi, do you need to order another round?” Komilia asked the lady.

“So, if I can’t handle a measly get together, what good am I?” He gave her a tired look, as if the expectation to mingle was something hammered into his system. He looked around at a few others, conversing somewhat nearby and swallowed. “I will.. mingle.”

The hydraulic arms let out a soft hiss as the ramp dropped on the latest shuttle to arrive at the party. Heavy footfalls rang off of the durasteel as its occupants disembarked. They say better late than never, but TuQ’uan Varick would rather think of himself as fashionably late. And as he readjusted his hat, TuQ knew that fashionable was certainly an accurate descriptor. Looking around he was a little disappointed to see a lack of welcoming party, there were only a few staff waiting to direct guests to their party location of choice. Did he expect pomp, ceremony and a greeting from the Grand Master himself? Well, kind of, yes. But he wasn’t going to stop this from enjoying the festivities, plus it would give him the opportunity to make a grand entrance.

With more confidence and swagger than he deserved, TuQ made his way towards the main hall where he assumed everyone would be gathered to give him the greeting he truly deserved. As he reached the doors, TuQ straightens his jacket, took a deep breath, threw the double doors open with all of his might and stepped in.

“Guess who finally made it!” he shouted, ignoring the server he had knocked over with his rambunctious entrance.

“You’re good at smart things. Researching. Building and fixing things. That doesn’t require mingling.” Zuza had commented back, a little concerned for the Arkanian but distracted by someone yelling as they entered the room.

Her attention was drawn to Tuq, not knowing the man but immediately amused by the entrance, “But this might be a good chance if you want to.”

She straightened a little, knowing she was hard to spot among all the tall people and called out, “Someone with a real fancy hat!”

“Yes, I was looking to get a second glass of …,” Selika’s voice trailed off as she turned to face the member of the wait staff.

As usual, she normally took a telepathic read of the surface thoughts and emotions of those around her. It was second nature to her, something that at this point was simply reflex. But this girl was different, like a blank canvas.

No, at least the canvas is something. This one is just a void, like staring into the abyss, she thought.

“A second glass of Toniray,” Selika finished, moving her Force-attuned senses away from the yawning maw that stood before her in the guise of serving drinks. This girl, whomever she might be, was one of the most unsettling people she had met in quite some time.

Kah'ri followed the lawyer around the corner where the servers had come from. Spying a pair of swinging doors and smelling the aroma from within, Kah'ri quickly deduced this was the kitchen. He considered for a very short moment before curiosity got the better of him.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Kah'ri whispered, grasping Ellysin’s wrist to stop her as he peered inside the door. “They’ve got a fresh batch of those pastries and - oooo!” Kah'ri’s voice broke the whisper, “they’ve got an Alderaanian ale!”

He looked back at the tall woman, his eyes beaming like a child asking his parent for a toy in a store. Ellysin’s eyes were narrowed at his implication.

“No.” She said sternly. “We are not doing that.”

“But that’s an Al-der-aa-ni-an ale!” He slowed to make sure she heard him, “Do you know how rare those things are?! I’ve seen two bottles ever in my life. One was in the office bar a very notable Hutt. The other one is in there!” He pointed over his shoulder.

“Yes! It is. And if you want a glass just order one, but we are NOT going in there! Understand? She argued in a hushed tone.

Kah'ri looked at her skeptically before peeking inside again. Ellysin watched as he apparently searched for something. He kept looking for a moment before his face returned with a sly grin on it.

"They have a seasoned gornt in there…”

“I don’t like you.” Elly deadpanned, holding a straight face for only a moment before she broke into a playful smile once again. “Unlike you, I’m not weak minded and can resist simple temptations” She tried to act all high and mighty before she pulled Kah’ri out of the way and peeked in herself to see what all was cooking. On the one hand, the last thing Ellisyn should be doing is getting into trouble. But on the other, she was already here in place of someone else when she’d rather be home doing anything else. What’s wrong with a little bit of fun?

The lawyer looked to her companion. “Do you…” She looked to the door again and then back to Kah’ri. “Ah frak it.” She grumbled and grabbed his wrist, and dragged him through the doors, trying her best to not stand out while wearing a three piece.

Mikhail looked towards the commotion, face showing slight concern. He ran his fingers through his raven hair, combing it back in a nervous tick. He swallowed, eyeing Zuza and her reaction to it. Was she normal? Was he? Social judgments seemed to never have an answer, and it was partially why he hated them.

Sinya felt him before she heard him. The Kel Dor always created a large ripple wherever he went. He was especially vociferous tonight with his “grand entrance”. “Well, he’s come a long way from the quiet thinker I met under Aleister’s cruel fist. Apparently being in authority suits him,” she said out loud to herself before feasting on the carnivorous delights on her plate.

Wenet found a stool near the buffet and hopped on, now atleast she was able to look at what they were serving. She noticed Sinya already took her pick. Wenet looked for the vegetarian snacks, she preferred it raw but the only thing raw seemed to be the garnish.

Silent, sanguine eyes stared unblinking past the Severin that sulked off, the chatting Vreva and Tekuani. Foxen observed the general shambles that was every new thing that walked in here, making buffoonish entrances or tittering off like spiced-up monkey lizards. The Zuza yelled about hats and spoke to a recognized file: bladesmith.

More objects: people.

Disgusting.

He once again calculated his exit. The door is busy. Will the second level be quieter.

Unlikely.

The new asshole to arrive (the staff handle your food and drink, pal, maybe don’t beat them with door implements) who the Zuza hailed wore headware that Foxen was certain, inexplicably, his sister’s trash boytoy would peacock around in proudly.

They’d probably get along.

Trash did tend to congregate.

However: if he was going to stand here any longer, some standard had to be maintained. Signaling to the bartender, Foxen made the appropriate gestures as if to expel stomach contents and pointed at the small waste bin behind the man. With the quick action of one who did not wish to mop up vomit, the tender passed the little receptacle over, seeming only somewhat confused when Foxen turned with it and placed it down instead 1 m in front of the bar where the seats were generally packed. Then he pointed at the Kel Dor, gestured up at his brow, indicating that garbage, and pointed at the can.

You’re welcome, pal, he finished by saying, before moving back to the little “reunion” duo.

Kah’ri slid out of the way to let the bartender pass, his attention fixated on taking in the general social atmosphere of the kitchen. As he did, he noted the kitchen staff, a woman who looked somewhat out of place and an apron laying on the counter of the pastry station nearby. The DJ started playing high energy music as his mind began to prioritize and sort out the best course of action. He made a gesture and his formal attire dissolved into a kitchen staff uniform.

He was now in character.

The music acting as a sort of backtrack to his movements, he stepped into the kitchen careful to match the urgency of the kitchen staff. His face remained as emotionless as the culinary droids as he rushed toward the sink to wash up. He held his breath as he passed the woman. Seemingly not noticing him from anything else going on in the kitchen, Kah’ri rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands and forearms before tightening up his apron.

He slid back up to the pastry station, grabbed a rolling pin, and began to work on some dough.

Komilia clumsily entered the order into the datapad that had been given her while holding onto the tray. As she waited on the bartender to prepare the drink she puzzled over the look the lady had given her. It seemed odd but Komilia couldn’t place it.

Afterall, there were a lot of weird people here. As she collected the drink she navigated her way back through the crowd. “One Tony-rai,” she said, placing the glass in front of the lady. As she clutched the tray to her chest she hesitated.

After the lady looked at her with that same look, Komilia finally plucked up her courage. “So…this may sound weird. But do you know my Father?”

Savran watched Foxen’s response to the arrival of a sharply dressed Kel Dor with an amused expression. For as much as the man came off as even more emotionally unavailable than the typical person belonging to their profession, Foxen had twice now revealed himself as possessing a sardonic streak that mirrored their own, though he was even more blunt than them. “With gestures like that, you’re likely to attract more attention than what you already have from us, Foxen,” Savi noted, folding their arms across their chest and taking another sip of their drink.

Red eyes turned to the Shani, and the slightest pull of pierced brows and lift of lip in a sneer, showing just a millimeter of one sharp tooth, indicated how he felt at that realization. His gaze followed the movement of their cup, and he huffed out a breath, pulling his datapad back out in an almost pointed show of don’t talk to me to anything around him.

Deny, he said firmly to the Tekuani, and then turned to typing.

🦈: Tekuani and Vreva are here, as is Archian. Reminds me to be worried about those kids. Also that I hate everything about this. *🦈: Intel obtained, and contacts updated. Have Vreva’s code now. She recommended another friend. Supposition: it’s a jediit. Maybe useful for you. Also: this one has a nexu. Do you like them? Maybe they will let you see it. 🦈: Inventory: memories with those things. If you want. Can tell. But not necessary input. Same warning applies: danger.

The hybrid paused, considering. Thumbed over to the little pictographic tab that he had not opened once in his goddamn life – nearly dropped the pad doing it too, stupid fraking no little finger to brace on frak – and browsed through the available entities.

To his mute shock, there was one that matched what he wanted.

Was he going to have to admit these things had use?

Disgusting.

> 🦈: 🤟

Sykes adjusted his tie as he stepped forward from the turbolift. It wasn’t often that he wore his formal clothing but this was, of course, a party. The black suit went well with his green tie and the small silver Doctor pin of the Collegium on his lapel stood out amounts the black. He had put on some of his best silver rings to n both hands. Various Sith Runic designs and skulls adorned the rings.

“Weapons, Sir.” Said the droid to his right and Sykes merely nodded. He was never happy to remove his armament, but he knew on such occasions around Arx it was a needed precaution. Handing over his cloak, lightsaber and dagger her growled slightly. “I expect these back.” He muttered to the droid and made his way forward.

He put his best face on as he stepped through the doors into the main bar area. He spread his senses out and was not surprised by the amount of Force users onboard. He had recently been away on a Collegium mission to catalogue recently found Sith ruins and had not been around other members of the Brotherhood in quite some time. It made him slightly uncomfortable, but he covered it well. He moved through the tables and came up to the end of the bar. “Whyrens Reserve on the rocks”.

He collected his drink and leaned against the bar. He slowly took in everyone around him with his gaze as well as his sense. Several familiar presences appeared and he stifled a slight smile. What are you doing here, Kah’ri? he wondered to himself.

Then he felt something strange. A dim soul among the crowd. He looked around but couldn’t quite place it. His natural predatory instincts could sense something wrong. As if a creature was less than a full life form. “Strange.” He muttered to himself as he continued to look around slowly.

At this point in time Elly hadn’t donned any form of disguise and looked instead to Kah’ri for him to do something. She was way out of her element and had no real idea on how to move forward. <@248607477015379987>

“Yes, Chef!” The pretending pastry chef shouted. It’d been years since he made a Batuu-bon, but he felt confident enough to recall most of what his parents’ chef had once shown him.

He looked over to see Ellysin beginning to looking his way uncomfortably. He half expected her to follow him into the role, but forgot that despite her amusement with his rule-bending antics, she was still a lawyer - a stickler for the rules.

Kah’ri hurried the pair of pastries and plated them the way he remembered seeing them as a child. Lifting the plate into the air, the Savant walked backward toward the order counter behind Soccora. He stared Ellysin down in an attempt to communicate his intentions and gestured for her to ditch her blazer.

“ORDER UP!” He shouted loudly, eyes still fixed on the other Firrerreo. Breaking eye contact, he dinged a bell and pretended to inspect a new order.

After trying some of the vegetarian snacks, Wenet began to feel bored. She hopped back onto the ground and made her way to the bar. There the small Kushiban hopped onto a barstool. “Can I get you a you anything?” The bartender asked. “Eh… sure.. I’ll have what he’s having” she said nodding towards a man holding a drink whilst leaning against the bar. She had no idea what it was but it looked interesting. The bartender nodded and prepared the drink for her.

Sykes blinked and regarded the small furry creature that had come up to a bar stool near him. “A good choice.” He said offhandedly. “Good Corellian whiskey has been harder to come by in recent years.”

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small case. Opening it, he took out one of his cigars. “Good whiskey deserves a fine cigar.” He turned the case to the creature and offered it to her. Several different sizes of cigars and cigarillos sat in it. “If you would like. Not often I find others who enjoy the finer yet harsher things of life.”

Wenet smiled when the man next to her spoke to her. She hadn’t expected a conversation let alone being offered a cigar. However the small bunny never tried a cigar before, mainly because of their size. That didn’t mean she never smoked, she had tried her father’s pipe when she was six and didn’t like it very much. She had also tried ciggies because everyone in her crew smoked. But in general, she wasn’t a fan of smoking and thought declining the offer. But then she noticed the man’s rings with skulls and strange runes and remembered what Sinya'ni told her only s few minutes ago. ‘Oh, this must be one of them, better not insult him’ she thought and smiled nervously.

“That’s very kind of you, Sir” Wenet said and took a cigarello as it was smaller than the others.

Sykes nodded and offered a light. After he lit the smalls creatures cigarillo, he lit his own cigar. Thick sweet smelling smoke clouded slightly. His sipped his whiskey, enjoying the burn as it went down his throat. He regarded the small creature next to him. His instincts told him that this little one was young and still growing in the Force. “Not often you see people of your rank or even statue at these type of events. What brings you here?”

Despite being smaller the cigarello still looked rather big in her tiny claws. “My statue?” Wenet repeated and squinted her eyes slightly and for a brief moment her fur seemed to turn darker. “Well the answer to your question is, curiosity” she took a sip from the whiskey, instantly her fur changed back to white and her eyes widened, “nice” she said and then took a puff of the cigarello. “I’ve only recently joined the Brotherhood, thought this was a great way to get to know people” she let out a chuckle “I tend to throw myself into the deep” which was a fact, she often did thinks without fully thinking them through. This party for instance was probably not the best time to try every drink in existence.

Having not received a response back from Socorra, Anders decided to lean against the bar counter and await another drink.

Zuza herself had just knocked back another, and offered the Chiss a slight wave from her spot beside Mikhail further down the bar.

Anders took the opportunity to accept that wave as an invitation, and once he gad an unfortunately not aged well enough glass of wine in his hand, he approached Zuza again.

“Well, this has been interesting thus far. How goes the night for you?”

He then paid attention to the Arkanian. Why were people in the Brotherhood either too tall or too short, himself included?

The Brotherhood didn’t seem to understand average.

“Good afternoon, I am Chief Inquisitor Anderson, though you may call me Anders if you prefer,” he held out a hand for the Arkanian to accept.

<@160141735354171394>

Sykes watched the colors change in the creatures fur and chuckled lightly. “Yes the Brotherhood does tend to lend itself to beings who throw themselves in fully and expels those that do not. These types of functions can be wonders of learning the ins and outs of the various inter-Clan politics.” He took another puff and raised his glass to his small drinking companion. “Sykes Jade.” He said and gave a slight nod in cheers

“Its going fine, had a few drinks, getting another. What have you been having?”

May as well try something new, the cocktail was getting a bit samey after three glasses. Zuza smiled up at him, staying where she was leant on the bar.

Cassandra stood at one of the large windows, looking out into space outside. She held a glass with a blue shimmering liquid inside, from which she took a sip.

She was there in her regular Chancellor’s robes, a beautiful blend of greys, purples, and gold; with a blue and gold mix on the front of her chest.

Her red burgundy hair was not in a ponytail for once, but draped down her back with some strands in front.

Mikhail spotted the man as they approached, their crystal eyes lacking pupils yet swirling with a blue geometric design. He watched the hand extend during his introduction, and raised his own leather gloved palm to meet in the middle. His grip was on the lighter side of firm, his jaw clenched for a moment before he spoke. “Kadnikov Mikhail Petrovich. It is a pleasure to meet you, Chief inquisitor.”

He glanced at Zuza as their shake broke, lifting his sparkling water for a sip. Wine sounded nice, but Mikhail would rather keep a clear head for the moment. If there would be any drinking for the Arkanian, it would come at the end of the night.

She copied him, and lifted her glass in cheers. However she had to use both hands to do it.. “Wenet C. Bannog” she introduced herself with a smile and took another sip of her drink.

Sykes gave a rare warm smile. “A pleasure. I take it you don’t drink much. A little hint…dip the cigar.” The Sith put action to words and dipped the mouth end of his cigar in the whiskey and took a few puffs. A sigh of delight escaped his mouth with all the flavors mixing. “It’s the finer things in life sometimes. What Clan do you hail from?”

Anders raised a brow. Kadnikov? That, admittedly, was a name he hadn’t heard in a while. A trade company disguised as a mafia. How many had this one killed in cold blood, he had to wonder. The temptation to deliver justice was almost too much.

Yet, Anders valued himself highly on his self-restraint. He had made a scene once already, and had no intention of outdoing himself. Still, maybe Mikhail could aid in his own endeavours.

“I don’t suppose a man with such a reputable name would be able to assist me with a personal matter?” Anders asked, swirling his glass of wine.

The air around the Arkanian shifted. What was once a slightly awkward, relaxed posture against bar turned to a straight back, head raised position on the stool. He slowly set his glass down, his palms moving to rest against his knees. Whatever light smile he had propped up collapsed into a flat, emotionless expression. It was almost like looking at another person when Mikhail assumed his Familial role.

The bright kaleidoscope blue eyes watched Anders face carefully, fingertips drumming against his knee as he considered his words. “Is it truly a personal matter, to bring to a stranger for assistance?” He glanced around the room in a slow, smooth movement before burning his intense gaze over his thin glasses into Anders. “I will hear you. But whatever notions you may have, it would be best to forget of them.” His voice was soft, and quite low, just enough for the present two to hear.

Zuza got her drink, listening and feeling the tension but… knowing what Anders was seeking didn’t feel a need to interrupt or anything. Itd be fine.

She had no idea what she’d actually asked for, it was quite a sweet drink with a sour accent to it that worked nicely. Nice.

“… Kadnikov Mikhail Petrovich. It is a pleasure…”

Pause.

Rewind input. Access file. Replay.

Kadnikov.

“Kadnikov,” memory overlays, with the blast of frigid air conditioning in the owner’s office, making the body shiver, the peeling burns and dry skin chaff all the more. The standard manacles/muzzle are applied. The handler bolts the end of the chain connecting wrists/ankles/collar to the wall socket, per procedure. The winch pulls. The body is dragged back 0.7 m on the feet. Drag leaves behind flesh/nail. Metal binds tighten/restrain. Pressure increased: 67%.

The carpet hurts the eyes. It is very white this time.

Glass tinkles. The owner smiles, gold on the lips, waving hand, indicating encased trophy, one after another, things the mind once knew but has forgotten. One, then another, then the body, then the next.

“What do you think of my collection, Kadnikov?” Vocal tenor: excitement. The body trembles, knowing this could mean punishment or reward.

Crrrr–

The Foxen jolts, releasing grip on the datapad he’d been typing on. The plastics stop straining under his thumb, no longer threatening to crack.

He’s. Sweating. Under the suit and coat. Respirations and heartbeat increased. Looking at his messages to Flyndt doesn’t help. He scrolls up until he hits words from the bird, and tries to focus on them and breathing.

Insufficient.

Distance desired.

Ugh, and he bought a knife from that fraker.

Distance–

The Nautolan hybrid suddenly broke away from his two person-shaped barnacles making friend noises, striding for– no where. Unknown destination. Unknown location. Unknown security.

Threats: many, possible, unknown.

Assets: unknown.

Exits: not clear.

Coat check: has his fraking knives.

A purloined fork falls into his palm with lethal intent and nowhere to go.

The body finds a hallway not yet taken up by others and wedges into it.

Anders watched him change his expression, the tapping of the Arkanian’s fingertips against his knee indicated a man with nervous tension that needed comforting.

It was amazing what an individual could reveal through their actions alone.

“I will forget what I choose to forget, depending on how co-operative you decide to be. Make no mistake, I’m well aware of what your family is. I simply wish to ask questions. If I had any ill intentions towards you, I certainly wouldn’t act on it here outside of self-defence.”

Anders took a swig of his drink, deciding to get straight to the point.

“Someone has information that I seek. I’m looking for a young Zabrak male, tall, brown eyes, towards the end of his teenage years. Does any of that sound familiar?”

The slow drumming of his fingers seem to tap one final time at the end of Anders’ request, as if adding punctuation to it. The Arkanian stayed silent, his mind retreating to his filing cabinet. As if looking through a series of photos, he flickered across a few faces in his mind, placing them where he saw them and slowly reducing the number until he was left with only those that would match the given description as accurately as possible.

“Hmm.” One stuck out to him, a tense figure with badly hidden gear. Jedi gear. Republic style Jedi gear. He had flinched at the time upon seeing it, but nothing crossed his stone face this time. “Perhaps I could assist you, Chief Inquisitor. But are you willing to deal in favors with a Kadnikov?”

His head tilts one way slightly, inquisitive. “I do wonder why you’d be looking for a young, Republic Jedi.”

Zuza took a long draught of her drink.

Vreva had been deep in her cup when the conversation turned to uncomfortable silence between them. She considered speaking with Savi, but the Nautolan’s comment earlier gave her pause. Foxen’s pointed typing away from them increased her nervous energy. She tapped on the bar counter.

“So…”

As she spoke, Foxen made a swift and sudden exit. She turned her head for her gaze to follow, her brow furrowed in curiosity. “Where d'you think our friend is going, huh?”

“What?” Savi asked upon hearing Vreva’s voice. They looked up to see that Foxen wasn’t there anymore. “Huh. I hadn’t even realized he’d left. I just assume he’s always brooding somewhere nearby,” Savi admitted while looking around. It didn’t take them long to find someone of his stature. The man looked like he’d seen a ghost, like when he was having a moment during their mission but far worse.

“He doesn’t appear to be fairing well, though.”

‘Is it that obvious?’ Wenet thought to herself and smiled at the man next to her at the bar. She tilted her head in surprise as watched him dip the cigar in his drink. Then she tried it herself, dipping her cigarello in her drink. She then brought it to her lips and took a puff. Her blue eyes widened and her furr simmered “ooh, that’s actually nice” she said and took another puff.

“Clan Odan-Urr” Wenet answered between puffs. “I recently joined.. before that I travelled the galaxy with a small crew of…” she paused for a moment to take a sip from her drink. “smugglers…” she then added..

Sykes slightly stiffened at the mention of Odan-Urr. His voice took on a certain venom as he spoke. “Jedi clan. I pray you do not Imbibe their dogma.” He stood up straight and glared at Wenet. “The Brotherhood was better before they allowed that abomination of the Force to join.”

‘You wish to make a deal? You wish to bind me to that scum you call a family’s service like a pet at the whim of it’s master? Don’t make me laugh.’

The telepathically created message went through loud and clear into Makhail’s mind, a thinly constructed thread of the Force connecting his mind to Anders’.

‘Do you have any idea how easy it would be to tear through your mind and retrieve the information I seek? Very, and I can make it a highly unpleasant experience. You are an intelligent man, Mikhail, from what I have glimpsed so far. The ONLY reason I haven’t looked deeper is because of my respect for Lady Zuza stood beside us. Now, I believe we can settle this like gentleman, don’t you agree? I am simply asking questions that require answers. That is all. There is no need for any deals to be brokered. Answer what I want to know, and I will be on my way.’

Anders smiled at him, raising his glass to Mikhail before taking a sip.

The Arkanian’s face twists in disgust. “Telepathy? And a threat to force the information from me to boot.” He shook his head, making a chastising click with his tongue. “No, I don’t think I will be helping you today, Anders. For your sake I’d advise not trying to delve any further for answers that may or may not be there.”

He lifted his own glass, taking a sip from it as he turned half away from the inquisitor. “Pleasure meeting you. Enjoy the party”

“Threats? That’s rich coming from someone who’s family profits from exploiting others. You started this when you tried to subjugate me to the Kadnikov’s, so don’t play the victim. It’s unbecoming, and quite frankly, embarrassing. ”

The smile on Anders’ face had disappeared, turning cold, glaring daggers at the Arkanian.

“Again, I will reiterate, and Lady Zuza here will confirm this. I am not an evil man. I can be reasonable under the right set of circumstances. The young Zabrak. You’ve seen him, haven’t you? You would have denied it by now otherwise.”

Mikhail slowly turned back to him, almost perplexed that he was still speaking to him. “You are the one who willingly climbed to my level, knowing I am a Kadnikov. Yet you are somehow offended that you’d be working with a Kadnikov to reach your goal? Going so far as to threaten me should I not give you exactly what you want right away?” He set his glass down, hand gently drifting to rest on the metal avian head grip on the cane next to him. Not once does his cold eyes leave the taller man’s.

“I could not think of a more reasonable circumstance than a social party, Anders. I do not care what others think of you. Only what you present to me. So far you seem to be a desperate man thrashing wildly for answers, not caring who your flailing arms might strike. Perhaps if you cease your tantrum, and apologize for your incursion, I might be more forthcoming with a route to assist you.” His fingers on his knee gently tap in a cascading pattern, waiting.

His response told her that her first impression of him was right, he was one of those Sith people.

“I am not a Jedi” she replied but then paused, she wasn’t really sure what she was. “But they gave me a home” she added and then went quiet.

Anders raised a single brow before rolling his eyes. “I would hardly call it a tantrum. I have hardly raised my voice in the slightest. There are many things I have to resort to in my line of work, Mr Kadnikov. I was unaware you were a member of that family until I heard your name.”

The Chiss could feel veins bulging in his head and neck. His pride demanded that he extract the information from him where he stood, though in this social setting, he would likely be stopped before he could get what he wanted.

Instead, he decided to be tactful. Sometimes, the best way to get what you wanted was to go with the flow with your quarry. He was nervously tapping his knee, he was clearly prepared for another mental incursion if Anders tried it again.

“However, you are not incorrect. I am desperate. As I explained, this is a personal matter. For what it’s worth, I do apologise. I simply want to know where you saw him, that is all.”

Zuza was watching tensely, as one may watch two wolves growling at each other. Shed been about to jump in once or twice, but the conversation was going in such a way where she wasn’t entirely sure what was even occurring until Mikhail mentioned telepathy and even then-

Why was today so complicated?

At least she was holding her alcohol well, the rest of the glass went down fairly smoothly.

“No, not at all…” Vreva looked around to figure out what might have caused their friend’s sudden departure. There were no animals in sight. Savran was an annoyance to him, but she doubted anything the Shani had said would make him vanish without a word.

She could feel a tension growing within the conversation beside them. Disgust at a name. Kadnikov. Something to stow away for reference later. If she could remember. Her instinct begged her to linger on the conversation, but guilt pulled her away.

“We should make sure he’s doing okay,” Vreva said in an even tone. “Or, well, moderately okay.” She stood and strode off toward the hall Foxen had tucked himself into.

“Hey Foxen, you doing alright?” She leaned against the wall, head tilted to the side.

“Good idea.”

The last thing anyone needed was Foxen losing it. That would be ugly. They were aware of how capable Foxen was, but with some of the Brotherhood’s top brass in attendance, the odds of him coming out of a skirmish unscathed were slim–even if Vreva and themselves were likely to assist him.

Savi followed along and took their place next to Vreva, folding their arms across their chest while observing the nautolan hybrid’s demeanor. They ensured that there was enough space for him to move away freely if he wanted. Savran had seen that look before in countless mercenaries they’d served alongside over the years, especially those who had earned their stripes during periods of bloody conflict within the galaxy. An unmistakable fog of disquiet loomed over the man. And as those feelings of panic and the overwhelming need to retreat to what was known - what was safe - bled into their Force awareness, Savi knew that these were the feelings of a man who had been through an ordeal that left him changed. Broken, perhaps.

A sigh escaped the shani’s onyx-painted lips. They found Foxen’s gaze and spoke with a calm yet confident tone. “Look at me, big guy,” they said, “You’re not there right now. You’re here, at this shitty party with far too many pompous frakkers. Think of him, if you need to.”

Mindful of their deal and intent to honor it, they didn’t say Flyndt’s name, but assured their tone conveyed about whom they were speaking.

Movement detected.

The body tenses, the eyes clock right, to the hallway entrance, follow movement/figures.

The handlers coming. Two minimum, per protocol, but unusual. Usual: ≥4.

“Hey Foxen,” the handler asks, and that is. Dissonance. That is not the right name the body was given. They do not know the self’s name, under the body. Did he give it to them.

Did he. Give that up too.

“You doing alright?”

Non standard query.

Input unrecognized. Response unclear.

Avoid punishment.

Default response stock inventory: * present wrists/ankles for binding * do not resist application of muzzle * take order; hold still; open the mouth; swallow; do the wave; look up for me; show us those teeth * win * put on good show

Is it a dry day.

The body doesn’t feel…dry.

It feels–

“Look at me, big guy,” the other handler says. The eyes do not recognize either of them. Are they new. No. Questions pointless. Present the neck.

But the body resists the motion. The back presses into a. Wall.

“You’re not there right now. You’re here, at this shitty party…”

Assess: shitty decor alright. What is that rug. It is not one of the owner’s fraker’s. Same level of garish though. There are. The wall behind it vibrates. Engines? A ship. A ship with marble rosette trim on decorative pillars?

It is a ship. A SHIP.

What asshole owns this.

“Think of him, if you need to.”

Nothing has to make sense to the body to process that one. The hand scrabbles at the large coat buttons, shaking too finely to properly undo the lapel. Instead the hand grips and pulls, ripping heavy thread. Fingers push until the garment hangs open and more buttons meet death against the carpet and marble (ugh) as the silk shirt opens too and then–

Feathers. Soft against his fingertips, worn and edges. He keeps them as pristine as possible, but the degrade is inevitable, as time passes between one molt and another.

He breathes in through tight throat.

- Handlers– no. The Tekuani and the Vreva. Barnacles, more like. Why do they not leave him alone.

But maybe. Not alone is. Better. This time.

Think of him.

Flyndt. Home. Back with Karran. Dajorra. Yes. And this is. A party of frakers. And there was a Kadnikov. But just the smith, who made nice knives.

Not the office, not the pit, not object: Altirius Kadnikov, category: prospect of the warlord, saying to another one like the body that the warlord is actually willing to sell. He says to the female for purchase, “let’s be rid of this yes master business. You are no Kadnikov slave. Come, let’s get you fitted for a suit.” And then they are gone.

And the body – the Foxen – remains.

But not forever. Because Flyndt came.

He presses into his sternum, thumbing over scar and ink. Gripping the necklace. Set task: return respirations to baseline.

Remember where you fraking are.

With bozos. Who followed you.

Ugh. However: assets, assistance.

When he has breathing under control, the hand that was death-gripping stolen silverware for a weapon loosens, and the cutlery drops with a clatter. He slowly raises it to his chin, gesturing out once to each of the Zabrak and Shani.

Thank you.

“No problem, Foxen. Not gonna leave you twisting in the wind. I know talking about it is probably far from the mind at the moment. But you got an ear. Seen that look before.”

Vreva tugged down at the collar of her robes, showing a band of scar tissue around her neck. A mark of similar experience. Perhaps she would find kinship there.

“And if you happen to know a Pau'an named Serassk, you don’t have to worry ‘bout him no more.” A wide grin spread across her features.

Elly’s eyes nervously scanned across the kitchen, inevitably landing upon Socorra, a woman she hadn’t seen in quite some time. Not since the last party she had attended. The last party she ever went to with her darling Darrio. A breath hitched in her chest as her mind quickly began spiraling into chaos. She was a mother now. She couldn’t be doing things like this in broad daylight. At least not in a place like this. If she were home and in a small diner, a little mischief like this would be easy to talk her way out of. But seeing Socarra standing there reminded her that she wasn’t home. She was on a flying yacht filled with some of the galaxy’s most dangerous and temperamental people.

“I’m sorry” Elly mouthed to Kah’ri from across the kitchen, quickly backing up through the bar doors as her breathing began to quicken. She felt horrid for abandoning one of her few almost friends in the middle of a situation like that, but she just couldn’t handle it.

Free from the kitchen and her poor decision making, the lawyer found her back against a wall outside the kitchen, her heart racing and chest heaving as anxiety took over. She closed her eyes and thought back to her aunt’s teachings on how to deal with this sort of thing. It had been such a long time since she needed to, but she didn’t have much choice.

Elly opened her eyes and steadied her breathing, focusing not on her thoughts but on the world around her. Her shoes were brown, just like usual. The bar was filled with tables and a variety of people, all with their own unique and colorful outfits. Her hands trailed along the cool wall behind her, traveling into her soft, floofy hair. She felt along the wool of her jacket, taking a button and rolling it between her fingers.

The firrerreo listened to various conversations around her, taking a moment to listen to the timbre of a few individuals’ voices. With a strong inhale through her nose, she smelled the various foodstuffs across the room mixed with her own perfume. She slid her tongue along her lips, tasting the cider she had not too long ago.

With one last deep breath in, she pushed herself off the wall and took a mental note to thank her aunt. <@248607477015379987> <@141239709291511808>

The Nautolan narrowed eyes at the band on the Vreva’s neck. His own, thick and raised enough hook nails on, twisted and smooth more like a burn from the tightness and shock of the collar for so long, rather than from chaffing, was on display now, with his shirt half open and buttons popped and damn he’d liked this coat.

Emotion identified: dislike, that the Vreva should share such a mark. Origin: unknown.

Serassk. Access files. Assessing.

Small time slaver. Competition, but barely. Frequent loser, killed by his own “property.”

Hah. Nice.

He made a grin, one that showed many of his two rows of teeth, and nodded to the Zabrak. Then to Tekauni. He met their stare, then gave them a nod too, less one bloodthirsty display.

Koda Kendis stepped off the transport and onto the yacht, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath. The man normally drew the attention of passers-by due to his hulking size and shining beskar armor, but today he was wearing a nice leather jacket and boots, with a simple red button-up and black tie tucked underneath a grey vest, just cleaned up enough to look presentable. As he walked, he loosened his tie and made his best attempts to make it breathable. He felt naked without his armor, he felt especially naked without his weapons, but this was the first time he’s been to a social interaction that he wasn’t hosting in months, so maybe that’s what was making him feel off. His personal advisor said that it would be a good idea to take some time off and socialize, allowing his assistant-governor take over the roll for the time being.

Koda made his way through the check-in station, having not brought any weapons, he went through the station without any troubles. While he didn’t like being without his weapons, there was more than one way he knew how to defend himself without them. Following a combination of signs and sounds, Koda made his way towards the main party and bar area, taking his time to scan the environment and peoples involved.

The Kadnikov’s eyes narrowed at the apology. He didn’t seem to like it. His lips became a thin line, then arched down in a frown. He disliked this Anders, that much was obvious. To him, the Inquisitor had botched whatever smooth negotiations could have been, would have been positive for both parties. Now it’s just a slurry of a mess. He hated messy dealings.

He tilted his head upwards slightly, raising his chin. “Arx. An open market. Hosted by the one and only Brotherhood.” He gently tapped the metal cap at the bottom of his cane against the ground, then moved to stand on the other side of the stool from Anders. He spoke over his shoulder while producing a few cred chits as a tip for the bartender. “Be content with the information, and be on your way. If you ever choose to threaten me again, you will not be the only one on the trail of this Interesting Jedi of yours, Chief Inquisitor.” The title was spoken with an icy bite. Otherwise, Mikhail seemed to be readying himself to move on from this conversation.

“Oh, trust me. If you went after this Jedi, you would be surprisedat how quickly he is able to dispatch of you, and anyone your family send after him,” Anders decided not to press the matter further, deciding that the conversation had ended there.

‘Arx.’

‘Market.’

Two simple words, but they had told him a lot.

“Lady Zuza, wasn’t there a market hosted recently by the Aurora Collegium?”

<@432543120635461643>

Zuza had grimaced. She wasn’t sure if she should go after Mikhail, if she needed to say anything to him. Or to Anders? The Arkanian walked away and the conflict built in her chest.

She looked to Frond, giving him a small nudge and nodding toward the back of the man.

Frond took a few moments, before hopping down from the stool. His claws clattered against the floor as the Cythraul moved to join Mikhail.

It was something at least. And Foxen had left the room so she was less worried about about the pup getting stabbed.

Zuza’s attention was drawn back to the Chiss a moment later, picking up her glass as she nodded, “Yeah. It was a big open market, freshers farmers thing. Anyone.. could have slipped in or out really.”

Anders nodded gratefully, thankful for the information. “Do you think there will be any surveillance footage that can be uncovered?”

Zuza frowned, initially starting to say no before pausing.

“Maybe, actually.” Oh Nathan was going to hate this. But if Draca was lost.. there were things shifting on the horizon. If this was to find him then.. what’s the worst that could come from just asking Nathan if they could look? “I have someone I can ask about it, though I dunno if he’d want us to go through some proper procedure for requesting the footage.”

The Human rubbed the back of her neck. Nathan didn’t even like people knowing he was the Praetor when he was on the Voidbreaker. She only knew because of Zig.

“I would appreciate that. If it helps, you may inform him that this is a matter of Brotherhood security. I have no intention of seizing anything. I simply wish to look at the footage.”

“It probably will. Nathan’s gonna hate this.” She mumbled the latter part before looking up at the Chiss, “Want me to message him now? He lives uh, close to me so I can ask in person like, tomorrow too.”

Sykes smirked and sipped on his whiskey again. “Yes I imagine that they would. That’s how they recruit.”

The Sith could feel tension in the room growing. Kah’ri was somewhere surely making a fool of himself. More guests were arriving and still there was that empty feeling of someone around

“That would be much appreciated. Please do message him. I do sincerely thank you,” Anders took a sip of his drink, glancing at his bandaged hand. “For everything. It’s comforting to know I have some allies.”

Despite the drinks, Wenet managed to restrain herself from saying what she was really thinking. She didn’t want to start a scene at a fancy party, especially not since she was new. So instead she just returned his smirk and took another sip of her drink.

“I’m not really familiar with… eh.. your kind.. but I am curious” she said and took a puff from the cigarello. “How does recruitment work with you?”

Zuza nodded, “Hey of course. Friends help each other yknow?”

She shrugged pulling out a commlink and starting to tap out a message to Nathan. If Anders looked, he’d notice that she did not proof read. Nor.. was she very good at spelling. Or punctuation. It was legible enough, somehow.

He looked back at the smaller being. “You mean the Sith? Power. We find those with innate ability, drive and raw power.” He puffed on his own cigar before continuing. “Often we only take the best of apprentices. Many do not survive our ways. Those that come to us often seek us out directly. Rarely will we search for new recruits ourselves. Though it does happen from time to time. Jedi take in whoever they can. We only take those deserving of our power.”

Although she didn’t really like the way he spoke, she was intrigued by what he said as it was her nature to be curious. “Interesting” she replied and wondered if there were any Kushiban Sith or if she possessed any of those qualities. She shook her head an let out a soft chuckle, ‘ofcourse not’ she thought to herself, she believed was nothing like them.

She took another sip from her drink. “I didn’t seek out anyone in particular nor did anyone came to me.. I heard about the Brotherhood during my travels and got curious..”

Anders leaned over, seeing the grammar and spelling made an eye twitch. “Would you like some assistance?”

hey nafan hope your doing good I know you dont like doing prayter stuff on the VB but cood you pull some sacerity vid from the market the colegeumm held ? It a mater of brother hood sacerity

Zuza looked up at Anders, “Hm? Oh- if you want to? Its fine though.” She smiled, sheepishly.

Sweet mother in the Force… what in the hell was this?

He gave Zuza a quizzical look before resigning himself to “fixing” her message.

“Not at all, like you said, friends help one another.”

Hey, Nathan. Hope you're doing good. I know you don't like doing Praetor stuff on the VB, but could you pull some security videos from the market the Collegium held? It's a matter of Brotherhood security.

He handed it back to her. “There you go.”

Zuza looked a little puzzled before shrugging and sending the message.

“Thank you. I.. really couldn’t be bothered with that stuff. Ever.” She laughed, “I’d much rather go fight something than kriff around with words.”

“Unfortunately, I get the pleasure of having to do both,” Anders joked, his lips curving into a grin.

“Audio readers Anders. Life saver.” Zuza said sagely before giggling, sipping her drink again. It was almost empty now. “They have voice to text ones too, I use those when I have to make a report. Zig told me about ‘em, they’re really-”

Her comm link dinged. She held it so Anders could read as well.

“`Hello Zuza. I can but not today. I would need to go to the Academy itself to do that. We could meet there I guess? If that’s okay? What do you mean Brotherhood security? Is everything okay?

Also tell Zig thank you. She’ll know why.”`

Anders read the message. “Would it be acceptable if I accompanied you there? You may inform Mr Nathan that a Chief Inquisitor wishes to check over some findings.”

“I can ask!”

After a quick typing out with Anders once again checking the spelling, she soon sent out a return response.

Nathan replied with confirmation, shocked by the mention of chief inquisitor but giving them a time for the following day to meet in the Academy.

“There we go, perfect!”

Back on the Voibreaker, Nathan faceplanted his pillow in stress.

Why did Anders feel like someone face-planted their pillow from stress?

He shrugged, and took another sip of his drink.

Zuza tilted her head back and finished hers, placing the glass back onto the bar.

“I suppose at least we’re pretty close to Arx from here. I came on my own ship so we can head there together if you wanna, if you don’t have your own ship anyway.”

“That would be wonderful. I do possess my own ship, but came without it this evening.”

BUDD-E hopped into Zuza’s arms, bouncing and wiggling happily in her grip.

“Buddy, behave!” Anders scolded. “That is not good behavior!”

Evelyn enjoyed being alone in the quiet lounge. No one had entered. She could hear the music from the dance floor and the chattered that lulled in the air. The bartender was just hanging back.

She took another sip.

Her eyes bore into the wine glass.

‘…. Foxen ….’

Her head perked up at the name. He wouldn’t be here. Maybe she was wrong but he was not the social type. Unless he had a reason? That would be more Foxen. She didn’t catch the rest of the sentence. Curious, Evelyn placed her glass on the table in front of the couch and made her way to the open arch where the hallway was.

Turned her head, she catches the moment where he was grasping his necklace. Emerald hues evaluated the two beings with him, their surroundings, before it darted back to Foxen.

It wasn’t like Foxen to grasp his necklace. She scanned him up and down. He was tensed, as if preparing to fight. She felt her body followed the tension but then he signed to the pair of them, ‘Thank you.’

She stood tall, shoulders back and had the form of a soldier. “Erinos, surprised to see you here. You alright?”

something something Rhubard soup

Kah’ri looked back from the order he was reading, expecting to see Ellysin dressed somewhat similar to a server, but found only the outfit and posture of a lawyer. He looked Ellysin in the eye as she mouthed “I’m sorry” underneath what looked to be the beginnings of an emotional expression. She backed out of the kitchen very quickly and Kah’ri couldn’t help but feel an urgent need to check on her.

Thoughts of the Alderaanian Ale taunted him as he put both palms on the table. It was right there! He could just grab it in a few minutes and go back out to her. Ninety seconds was all he needed.

It’ll be fine. She’ll be fine. he thought to himself. I’ll be in and out quick. No one will even notice

Kah’ri’s emerald eyes aimed at the door, still swinging from Ellysin’s exit.

Kriff! he thought, making sure the word didn’t escape his mouth.

With the grace of a dancer, he navigated the bustling kitchen, slipped out through the doors, and surveyed the area.

There were more people here now than there were earlier. A chill ran down his spine as when he spotted Sykes. He was talking to someone, but stood in front of them where Kah’ri couldn’t see. Best not to poke that beast.

He spotted a bulky man who seemed lost, several other people already at tables, a server helping-

Wait, is that Komilia?! he thought, letting out an audible chuckle.

He reached out with his feelings continuing his search for Ellysin. She was against a nearby wall, her debilitating fear evident even without aide of the Force. He approached calmly, readying himself to help her, but as he drew nearer he noticed her fear began to dissolve. Bit by bit her emotions became more clear to see until he stood in front of her.

“Hey,” He said gently, “You okay?”I

“Sounds perfect then. I think the grandmaster said there’s rooms to stay here overnight, I don’t have a second pillow for the ship. We could sleep on there but one of us would be uncomfortable.”

Zuza laughed as Buddy jumped into her arms, catching him with grace and patting him gently on the head as the Human shifted to hold him like a baby.

“Hes fiiine. I got ‘im.”

Savran nodded when Foxen thanked them. “Don’t mention it,” they said, looking around at the collection of people gathered there. “It’s gotten … stale in here.”

When the silver-haired woman approached, Savi watched her carefully in silence.

Sykes nodded at her words. “Understandable. Now that the Brotherhood has become such a large part of the galaxy that is becoming more prominent. We still have remnants of the Empire here after all.” Sykes heard the door behind from the kitchen open and shut behind him. He could feel a spike of fear come from the person who was behind him. He smiled slightly. Ah Kah’ri. Ever the little sneak. he turned to look at the man. Sykes watched for a moment as Kah’ri began to speak to some woman who seemed to be having a form of panic attack. The Sith sighed and soaked up the fear coming from them. He could relish in such things and it seemed to invigorate him.

“I don’t know,” Selike said after a pause. “Should I?”

Before the conversation could progress further, Socorra’s question pierced the unease between them.

“Where did you find this one, Praetor,” Selika asked in response to her inquiry.

<@141239709291511808> <@679032520699805708>

At another approach, the Foxen body tensed further, having not yet unclenched in the slightest, despite being more in the present. However, eyes immediately recognized this input, if an old one.

Object: Evelyn Wyvern. Category: asset/ally. Assessment: musculoskeletal build still approximately 52-56kg, adjustment for articles of clothing; new visible scars: none found; braid 12 cm longer, split ends in need of a trim; nails, neat, unbroken; minimal cellulose/sagging/darkening around eyes, no visible masking with cosmetics.

Conclusion: she is healthy.

Positive development.

Accessing data: it has been 5 years 8 months and 28 days since last seen. Updated intel from Minnow’s gossip and Jax’s provided Assessment of Forces/casualty lists: now a widow, due to enemy: Collective, date: approximately 4 years prior. Assessment: she does not seem surprised to see him alive. Someone must have told her. Probably his brother Jax.

Exhaling and inhaling in set pace for decreasing respirations to baseline, the Foxen nodded to the woman. Lacking Thane-mouthpiece and unwilling to type, he used the hand that wasn’t gripping his necklace to gesture to her just like to the Vreva and the Tekuani. The Evelyn was not fluent, but had minimal ability.

First: a salute for greeting. He was no fraking AAF anything but in technicality over years previous of enlisted attache to the Erinos, but it befitted her rank as Major.

Second: no O.K. Then shrug. Difficulty.

Finally, a gesture to each barnacle respectively, and spelling.

To the Shani: S-A-V-R-A-N / H-A-S. Due respect for respect, in not saying Flyndt’s name. Then to the Zabrak: V-R-E-V-A.

Komilia jumped at the sound of the elderly lady yelling out at her. “Sor…sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” Komilia bumbled as she craned her neck between Socorra and Selika. “Umm…enjoy your drink!” Komilia half screamed as she raced back into the kitchen.

What had she been thinking. Why would that lady have known her father? Why would she have bothered asking. Did she know her? Something seemed familiar like she had seen her face before but everything was still so hazy.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Komilia exploded on Socorra after she banged her elbow on the door.

Sykes head came up immediately as a young server girl rushed passed him into the kitchen. He could feel the weak soul had come from her and he chuckled cruelly. “I’ll be damned.” He said while throwing back the rest of his drink. He motioned for the bartender. “Best ale you got!” He said with a laugh

With one last swig, Wenet finished her drink and then gazed around the room. ‘This is the weirdest party ever’ she thought to herself sensing the strange atmosphere. She took a couple of more puffs of the Cigarello..

The bartender sighed and went into the back. “Damned Sith and their fancy needs.” He grumbled. Grabbing the highly prized Alderaanian ale, he walked back out and handed the bottle and a tall frosted glass to the Sith. “That’s an expensive one.” He muttered as he pulled out the bottle opener.

Sykes laughed again and reached into his pocket, extracted several high denomination credit chips and a bar of Beskar then dropped them on the bar. “That should about cover it.” He took the bottle and poured the beer into the glass. Taking a sip he sighed and smiled. “Shame there is so little of this left.” He said with a smile. He turned to his new bar mate and raised the glass. “To your wonderful endeavors in the Brotherhood.”

“Nothing she said,” Selika said. “That one is just the emptiest vessel I’ve seen outside of a corpse.”

“I think he’s excited to spend more time with you.”

To emphasise Anders’ point, BUDD-E nestled itself in Zuza’s arms, one mechanical leg twitching like a very comfortable, very happy robot puppy.

Mikhail stepped away from the bar, leaving the inquisitor to his plotting. His grip on his cane tightened as he walked, limp slightly more pronounced than when he first arrived.

His gaze landed on Foxen in the near distance, surrounded by a few people that all appeared to be speaking With their hands. A twinge of regret pained him, he never did finish learning more of the language like he wanted. If he was well enough versed, he may have joined them.

His thought process of deciding where to head next was suddenly interrupted by a presence behind him. He spun and slightly recoiled at the sight of a large Canine following him. “What..” he began to question what it was doing, before catching himself. It was an animal, no use speaking to it as if he expected an answer.

Zuza kept petting the droid for a few moments with a wide grin on her face.

“Awwwh, me too little dude. Fist bump.” She raised the hand, clenching into a fist, and held it gently beside one of BUDD-Es arms. She was hoping he knew what a fist bump was.

Frond wagged his tail when he realised he’d been noticed, yellow eyes meeting the Arkanians’ blue. As Mikhail caught himself, the Cythraul came up beside him and gently nudged Mikhail’s hand with his muzzle.

Hed been sent to hang out for a little while. His Human had told him to, though his ears often angled toward where she was. Even distracted, he wasn’t going to fully let her out of his attention.

Mikhail yoinked his hand away from the rapidly approaching snout, instinctually avoiding a bite that didn’t come. His lip twitched as he watched the animal, unsure what to do with it. He wiggled his hand at it slightly, as if trying to shoo it away with a limp wrist.

Frond blepped.

Wenet smiled it return and lifted her empty glass “to my endeavours” she chuckled “let’s hoop I don’t get into much trouble” she added softly took puff from her smoke.

“Would you like a refill?” The bartender asked when he noticed her empty glass. Wenet thought about it for a moment, but since she arrived she had tried; Tsiraki, Toniray and Corellian whiskey, all served in big people glasses so it was probably best if she didn’t have another drink. “No thanks… maybe later..”

BUDD-E, indeed, knew what one was, and happily returned the Fist bump by tapping its mechanical foot against Zuza’s knuckles.

Zuza made a small woosh noise as she withdrew from the fist bump, grinning afterwards.

She looked up to Anders, “What have you been drinking? The cocktails haven’t really been hitting me.”

Evelyn saluted back, she was surprised but it didn’t bother her. “At ease, Erinos. You didn’t need to do that.” She appreciated it but it doesn’t show on her face. Her emerald hues watched as Foxen signed to her that he was not okay and going through some difficulty. That sign took her awhile but she managed.

Wait. Was he missing a pinky? That was not the time for now.

The massive Nautolan gestured to the Shani first and spelled out their name. The Epicanthix had to hold up a hand to show that she wanted him to pause at the S and A’s at first, they were so similar but she caught up. Vreva was much easier to read. “Nice to meet you Has and Vreva. I’m Wyvern. Evelyn Wyvern.”

Why was there even a dog here? Who brings animals to parties like this? What happens if it makes a mess? Does it know commands? Has it had its shots?

He frowned down at the animal, taking a slow step back. Why was it staring at him like that? What was he supposed to do with it?

When he noticed Evelyn’s cue to slow even further, he did so, and the Vreva seeming excited at the gesturing, even smiling at her name, gave him pause internally.

Flyndt wore an expression like the when he got new words right.

Hmm.

Noted.

Savran was mostly uninterested in the new arrival until they saw Foxen offer her a salute. That was a gesture they didn’t expect the nautolan, stolid and recalcitrant as he was, to offer. It was clear that the two of them had a shared history of military history, and that Foxen respected her because of it. Based on that alone, she seemed to be someone worth knowing. Savi wasn’t one to place undue importance on etiquette like some of the party’s garish attendants were wont to do, but they felt something die a little inside when the woman referred to them by their last name. Talk about a faux pas.

“Savran will do,” they said coolly. Whether meeting them was a pleasure or not remained to be seen. “Vreva raises a good question. What’s your unit?”

Evelyn’s face doesn’t show expression when Vreva asked about what military branch she ‘crawled’ out of. Savran, jumped in on the bandwagon too. She watched the both of them. Emerald hues glanced at them up and down. Blech. The Zabrak came here in armor but she couldn’t blame her. Especially if they were invited here without really understanding or knowing why.

Evelyn wasn’t sure how she felt about nosy people. Especially if she didn’t know where they were from. What Clan? What were their intentions? Her hands went behind her back and held them there, a Parade Rest position.

“I’m a pilot. That’s all I’m willing to share for now.” Then she looked over to Savran, “I will do my best.” They weren’t friends. So why should she refer them to their first name? This wasn’t the first time someone had a problem with them calling them by the last name and it would surely not be the last. “The outfit matches you. It looks good,” Evelyn said pointedly to Savran.

She turned her attention to Foxen, “Nice threads. If you’re looking for something more quiet, there’s no one at the lounge at the moment except the bartender. If you rather a feeling of open air, there were two people at the observation deck when I left.”

A small pause, “It’s good to see you well as can be, Erinos. I will be in the lounge if you have time for a drink.” Evelyn gave Foxen a friendly nod before she headed back into the lounge to grab her wine glass.

<@244244163002892288> <@1056685516441006091> <@227960499948486666>

“Coruscanti Wine, though its terribly aged, if I do say so…”

Anders was interrupted by BUDD-E beeping at him.

“No, you do not get a fist bump greeting from now on.”

The droid beeped again, causing Anders to roll his eyes.

“Because that is not how one greets another!”

Koda entered the bar and looked around. He expected that he would see some people he’s met before, but he wasn’t expecting to see his sister here. With just a quick look he could tell she was feeling off. The towering human made his way over to his little ‘big’ sister with a smile, giving a quick wave as he approached.

<@301514304845381632>

The Foxen– breathe, feathers, sunsets – *Foxen watched Evelyn go, considering the presented options.

Assessing.

Respirations and heartbeat, returning to baseline. Present established. Self reminded.

Distance still desired. Home desired.

Quiet…desired.

But also: barnacles.

Exhaling, Foxen took out his datapad, checking it for cracks – good, none – and typed. He turned the screen to both the Tekuani and the Vreva.

🦈: Preference?

Frond sat. If the dude was scared, he wasn’t gonna follow him. He tilted his head, as if asking if Mikhail wanted company.

His eyes remained making contact with the Arkanian’s. It was steady, as a person would.

“You can fist bump me, save the fancy stuff for everyone else.” Zuza informed BUDd-E, absolutely happy to be a small source of terrible influence on the droid.

“Hmm, I’ll try it. The wine.”

Zuza ordered a glass.

Elly chuckled and softly smiled at Kah’ri. “Yeah… Yeah, I think I’ll be fine,” She assured him while cracking her knuckles. It was a nervous tick of hers that she had never really been able to get over, no matter how hard she tried. Though her suddenly sour expression made it seem like she was preparing for a fight. “What the frakk is he doing here?” She asked Kah’ri. She put a hand on her hip and glared at her brother as he approached, not reciprocating his wave.

Once he was within earshot, the woman was more than happy to lay into him. “Koda, you better have a very good explanation for this.” <@248607477015379987>

“What?” He chuckled, “Am I not allowed to go out and socialize?” He held his arms up before lowering them. He shook his head, “I can’t let you have all the fun, now can I?” He crossed his arms and loudly judged those around him.

Kah’ri looked in the direction Elly was now directing an acidic stare, unable to prevent a chuckle from coming out as he spotted Koda on approach. Wanting to not take part in whatever Ellysin was about to deal out, Kah’ri took a rather large step back, in case blows were traded. Well… attempted. Koda now stood before her, a hulking creature by comparison. Kah’ri was unsure Ellysin would be able to do any lasting damage to him.

Elly crossed an arm and rubbed her temple, unable to hold back a genuine growl. “I swear…” The whole reason the lawyer was at this party instead of at home working on some cases she was very behind on was because she was told Koda couldn’t make it to this little shindig. Yet here he was, right in front of her. “You don’t have fun. You brood. It’s the whole reason your advisor contacted me, saying you were too stubborn to come.” If they weren’t in such a crowded space, she wouldn’t hesitate to slap him in this moment.

“It took some convincing, but I’m here now. I much prefer my own parties, I at least know the area.” Koda looked around, making more mental notes. “Having any fun conversations yet? Or have you been over here brooding and watching like I would?” He smirked and leaned up against the wall, “Because you’re not usually the wall flower type.”

Don’t make a scene. Elly repeated those words over and over in her head, having to quickly return to her breathing exercises to keep her cool. How could he not see how upset she was? Has he really been spending that much time alone? The firrerreo stepped further away from the wall and turned back to look at Koda, letting him take her place near it. She didn’t want to be too close to him while this heated. “No, dear brother, I have not been brooding. I’ve actually been enjoying my time here thanks to Kah’ri,” She motioned to her fellow firrerreo. “At least up until a few moments ago.”

Kah’ri chuckled nervously raising a hand to say hello. “Yeah. That- That’s me.”

He couldn’t think of another word to say in this situation, the uncomfortableness of it all feeding a desire escape to the bar.

“Did catching a whiff of me from outside upset you? I didn’t think me showing up somewhere would cause that much of a problem for you.” He looked at Kah'ri and gave him a slight nod, “If you want me to leave, I can. Unless there’s something else that’s been going on?”

Koda was never the best at reading his families queues, especially not recently, he spent so much time away from them that it sometimes feels like trying to figure out a stranger, even for to his sister.

<@301514304845381632> <@248607477015379987>

“No! Not at all!” Kah’ri interjected, wanting to take control of the situation before it escalated into… whatever this was about to become.

“We were just talking about some rare alcohols…” his voice trailed off as he looked over to the bar, where he noticed the bottle of Alderaanian Ale sitting on the counter behind a laughing Sykes Jade. Kah’ri stiffened in disbelief until an idea suddenly came to mind.

“In fact,” the Firrereo said, turning back to their new companion. “Let me get you something. My treat!” Kah’ri spoke decidedly, looking the larger man in the eye.

Koda straightened up his posture and cracked his neck, looking down at Kah'ri with fierce eyes. His resting face looked like that of an disgruntled dog. He studied Kah'ri for a few moments before shifting into a slight smirk and patting his shoulder with great force. “I won’t say no to a free drink.” He boisterously chuckled, “I doubt it’ll be hard enough for my liking, but we’ll see, shall we?” He looked over to Elly, “We can see if you and I can drink the same still.”

<@301514304845381632> <@248607477015379987>

Kah’ri stared unwavering at the man, his hand dropped like weighted plate armor onto the Savant’s shoulder. This man was big, that much was certain, but the air of his presence was much overshadowed by the welling unease that his fellow Palatinian no doubt felt in Kah’ri.

“Ellysin drinks?” The Firrereo asked quizzically. “I’ve never seen her drink anything more than a cider.” He winked at the woman

“Yeah blame our Aunt for that, those two love their ciders.” He chuckled, “She doesn’t do big drinking contests, I only recently picked it up in my time on Elysia. It’s a big part of some cultures there. If you’re going to be stuck in a confined area for a few months due to snow, there’s not much else to do and no better way to preserve. It’s even more fun when you get someone as big as me to join in an arm wresting competition. But I highly doubt the host would appreciate a few destroyed tables.”

“I would advise against it. I… what is it Buddy?”

The droid softly whimpered, causing Anders to groan.

“For the last time, Buddy, we cannot keep people. I explained this when we were on that mission with the Envoy Corps with young Bril and Sival.”

Zuza decided to take his advice and ordered just a simple mixer drink. Something easy.

She snorted at Anders’ response to Buddy.

“He really likes me huh? But yeah, I gotta go home eventually. Doesnt mean we can’t all meet up again.” She laughed lightly. Bless the little guy. Very sweet. It was a strange difference, this conversation and the last.

“I’m fine with either,” Savran answered before turning to Vreva. “What do you think?”

The look made the Arkanian uneasy. An animal shouldn’t be looking at him like that. He gently shooed it away again, this time speaking “go back, to the bar.” He took another step back, frowning.

Frond withdrew his tongue. He looked in the direction Mikbhail gestured, then back up at Mikhail.

Realising he was being shooed, the cythraul stood again, raising his head and-

Rolling his eyes?!

Before starting to trot back toward the bar.

The Zabrak put a hand on her hip as she regarded this pilot. She never did like military brats, and military brats typically hated her line of work. Of course Vreva’s words held a little bit of a teasing bite.

“Pilot, huh? Well, the lounge sounds nice to me. Less people at the bar.” Vreva flashed a grin to the two. The party was starting to pick up a bit. Although she was no stranger to big parties, it seemed this sort was the talky sort. And she certainly was not. A quieter place would definitely help things.

“You coming with, Foxen?” she asked before turning to leave. “I get it if you want to head home, too. Fighting demons is rough work.” <@244244163002892288>

The Nautolan, back still pressed to the wall, leaned over just enough to clock eyes back out into the main gallery, which revealed the cramped space around the weapons check.

Close quarters: undesired.

Objects: people: undesired.

Quiet: better.

I want to go home.

But home isn’t at the house, so no point going back anyway. Delay for thinning of crowd is logical.

“Hrm,” Foxen grunted, and peeled himself 3mm off wall before darting quickly to bypass the barnacles and resume cover. Then he side-stepped over to the entrance the Wyvern had gone through for Lounge and followed the bend of the wall that way. Unfortunately, all seating options seemed to be by this quieter bar/in the center of the room.

Well, he was fine staying over here then.

Vreva gave a nod in understanding and followed after Foxen. She was glad to see him step out of that comfort zone a bit, though she would keep an eye on him. When he tucked himself in a corner, her face grimaced with concern.

“You could take the couch if you wanted. Message me anything you’d like to speak up about. I’ll get you a water. Lemon? Lu’s all about lemon water and they always look great.” A light tone to try to ease some of the tension. Though her nervous energy threaded through her words. From her, would it feel like patronizing?

‘How gentle…’ A sneering tone at the back of her mind. She brushed it off, though it still took hold in her posture, rigid.

“Some for us both, maybe. They mixed that tsiraki pretty good.”

Foxen stared at the Zabrak, processing for an elongated 12.4 seconds. Offering him a place and refreshment (deny), as well as a method of communication re: their newly updated shared contacts.

More kindness.

It didn’t make sense.

However.

The Nautolan gave the barest nod, lifting his datapad in a sort of acknowledgement of if I need you. Then, considering her earlier noted intrigue, signed with the same slowness he used when first trying to communicate with Flyndt.

Thank you, hand to chin and back down. Pause. Letters. V-R-E-V-A.

Evelyn sat on the couch up against the wall where she could watch the entryway. She liked to be able to keep an eye on that. Reached down to the glass that she left on the table, she took a sip and watched as Foxen and Vreva entered. The Zabark was doing the talking from the bar while Foxen listened and even signed to Vreva He kept close to the door. Not that Evelyn blamed him. Easy to get out.

Emerald hues observed.

The glass was at the edge of her lips as she was slightly amused at Foxen and Vreva’s interaction. The wine glass would hide the small smile. From what Jax and Minnie had told her about Foxen, she never thought she would see the scene before her. Evelyn lowered the glass and placed it on the table to the left. Her face went back to stoic as she shifted and sat up more upright. Her leg went over her other leg.

“Alright, I’m gonna get those waters before we get all touchy-feely, now,” Vreva said with a wide grin. “Hey barkeep! Waters for my pals here. Uh, please.” The last was a sheepish add-on as she flopped down on one of the lounge chairs.

It was comfortable. A bit plasticky and sterile for her liking, but not worse than some cantinas she had been to. Vreva leaned back and brought one boot up over her knee.

“Place sure is fancy,” she said, making up small-talk to fill the silence.

Elly snorted, giving Koda a mildly disappointed face. “Destroyed tables? Please. That whole macho thing might slide on Elisyia, but most of the people here are strong enough to keep up in their own ways. We’re not in Heaven anymore.”

She nudged Kah’ri with her elbow. “And you’ve really gotta stop winking at me.” She chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind a bit more cider, though. See if you can get a bottle for me and a coruscant cooler for this idiot here” She punctuated her statement by lightly slapping Koda <@248607477015379987>

“Gah!” Kah’ri pinched the bridge of his nose to partially cover his reddened face. “Sorry. It’s a bit of a habit I picked up from my mother.” He reneged.

“Did you guys not want to come with me?” He said composing himself while gesturing toward the bar.

<@301514304845381632> <@351852811883118594>

“Ow.” Koda chuckled, not really feeling the slap all too much, but encouraging her sister, “I don’t think that deserved a slap.” He turned to Kah'ri, “I have no problems with joining you, as long as your'e still paying.” He smirked.

<@301514304845381632> <@248607477015379987>

“He likes everyone I associate with. For some reason, he is adamant that I make friends.” BUDD-E cooed in Zuza’s arms, and if she looked at the droid, she could have sworn she saw, and heard it huffing at Anders.

<@432543120635461643>

“A deal’s a deal.” Kah’ri responded as if having said this line a thousand times before now. He led the trio to the bar, where Sykes stood next to a Kushiban.

Kah’ri did his best to appear ignorant of the other Palatinian’s presence, but he knew very well the two men were watching each other carefully at this point. He gestured to the bartender, who’s eyes went wide at the sight of the two Firrerreo.

“Uh-uh. No. Whatever it is, you are not dragging me into it.” The bartender asserted.

“Relax, I just want to order.” He said Raising a hand to calm the shaken up bartender. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like a bottle of Cider for the lady, a Coruscant Cooler for the big guy, and I’ll take a glass of Alderaanian Ale,” Kah’ri said as he laid down a good amount of credits.

<@301514304845381632> <@351852811883118594> <@800517155389046794>

She had been and laughed at Buddys little huff, “Well, its not a bad idea. Allies will come and help you out when everythin’s gone to kist but friends are there whether or not you’re doing good. He’s just lookin’ out for ya.”

She patted the little droid on top of his head.

Sykes looked over at Kah’ri and gave him another one of his cruel smiles. “Well well. Look who it is. Come to join the party finally?” Sykes took a swig of his beer and topped it off with what was left of the bottle. “Kah’ri! Meet my new friend Wennet here.” The Sith gestures to the smaller creature next to him. “Quite a delight if I do say so.”

Wenet casually smoked the cigarello. She raised her furry eyebrow at the Sith’s comment. She wasn’t sure if he was genuine or being sarcastic. The small Kushiban decided to keep the peace and ignore the comment.

“Greetings” Wenet said to individual Sykes was talking to.

Kah’ri steeled himself and put on a charming smile. “A pleasure.” He nodded to the Kushiban, intentionally ignoring Sykes’s sarcastic jab.

“Speaking of friends, this is Ellysin and Koda Kendis.” He sat out of the way so both parties could see each other. “Member and relative of clan Taldryan.”

While the group exchanged more pleasantries, Kah’ri watched the bartender emerge with the two bottles requested and a pair of glasses before beginning to make Koda’s drink.

Sykes glowered at Kah’ri. This kriffin fool brings members of the Republic? Wonderful loyalty to the Empire this boy has. A Jedi lover and Republic personnel. This should be interesting. My report to the Usurper will be interesting indeed. he thought. He looked at the two Taldryans and stood up straighter before giving a slight bow. “A pleasure Mr and Ms Kendis. Sykes Jade.”

The Sith looked over the two siblings as he sipped his beer. His senses couldn’t feel the Force in the man but he could feel the latent spark within the woman. His more natural instincts, however told him that both had strong presences. Their Luck was powerful. “Anybody need any food? I am feeling a bit peckish myself.” He waved the bartender over. “Send a waitress over please. I’d like to order some food. And if you will, more of this Alderanian ale please.”

The Ryn bartender rolled her eyes as her tail twitched. “You ordered the last bottle, sir” she remarked.

“What a shame. Lomin-ale then if you please.”

“Comin right up.” The bartender turned to grab a new mug. “Waitress up!” She yelled as she went to grab more orders

Koda looked at Sykes and then to his sister, “Oh we’re not married, stars no. Feel free to call me Koda.” He offered a handshake, “Or Governor if you want to stay formal.”

With the Vreva at the bar and the Tekuani accompanying her, Foxen’s gaze located the Wyvern, then clocked about the rest of the lounge room, assessing.

Assessment: categorically, no immediate threats. Possible ones: yes. But likelihood of any of the three objects: people in this room besides the bartender attacking was low, ≤ 31%. Not odds Flyndt would like, but Flyndt didn’t like anything greater than 0% of threat to him.

Fair. Foxen felt the same. Unreasonable due to improbability on both their parts, but still.

Looking to the entranceway, he adjusted his position 1.3 m further along the wall, for optimal line of sight/positioning should threat/enemy come through the opening. He would be able to assess before they had sights on him. Gaudy-ass floating topiary: useful for cover/breaking sightlines.

Terrible taste, just like the marble.

As satisfied as could be, which was not, Foxen turned back to his datapad and reopened his partner’s contact.

🦈: Had a bad moment. Sorry if vital log worries. Status: physically fine. No danger. Only memory. Inventory: that man showing the body, refusing to sell to interested buyer. Name reminded. 🦈: I think Tekuani and Vreva are trying to be helpful. They are displaying kindness, check in on status. Their yammering and necklace helped return the self to present. 🦈: Just want to come to you but know you’re busy and the weapons check is crowded and it is too many too much. 🦈: Hiding in the quiet lounge. Will evacuate when exit clearer. O.K.

He constantly looked up and around as he typed, and once finished, debated the Vreva’s offer.

Didn’t have knives to clean/fidget. Didn’t have lighter for focus. Clothes already ruined, so messiness with claws, substitutable. However, pain stimulus == worried/upset Flyndt. Removing back from wall: undesired. Socializing: horrible. Drinking: absolutely the frak not. Reading: keeps eyes down, sightlines limited, observation limited, tactical disadvantage.

Sounded like a whole lot of waiting here for automatic nervous response to calm down.

Would distraction help.

“Hrm.”

He started to type to Fourth Best Bitch.

🦈: Assessment: visible excitement in facial expression noted when you were watching my hands. Are you interested in Sign?

Sykes shook the other man’s head and nodded. “Doctor. No need for formalities however, it’s a party after all. And I do apologize. No offense intended.” The Sith withdrew his cigar case from his jacket, set it on the bar and opened it. “You’re welcome to join us.” He said as he puffed on his own cigar. “Any friend of Kah’ri’s is a friend of mine of course.”

Anders let out a heavy sigh. “I know…”

His eyes peered at BUDD-E, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Truth be told, Buddy has been my longest lasting companion and friend. The Chiss Ascendancy were blind in their own arrogance, though it does seem sometimes I am little more than a tool. Whether that’s for the Chiss Ascendancy, the Inquisitorius, or Taldryan’s Supreme Chancellor doesn’t seem to matter.”

Anders raised a glass to <@61385159655559168>.

“It’s good knowing there’s at least something out there that doesn’t view me as such.”

“No ones just a tool.” Zuza said firmly, a slight frown creasing her brow. “People are people.”

She glanced over to where he gestured, putting it together that the woman it was aimed at was likely the Chancellor woman, the Consul of Tradryan. Good to know! Sad that.. she treated people like tools. It wasn’t necessarily a positive first piece of information but oh well.

The Human sipped her drink. It was refreshing after a few cocktails to have something simpler.

It hit her that she’d already had four drinks now. Hm. Oops.

“I wish I could agree with you, Lady Zuza. Unfortunately, in my experience, that is rarely ever the case. The Clan members are tools of their summits, the summits are tools to their Consul, and the Consuls are tools to the Council. Its a never-ending cycle. It doesn’t matter who sits in what seat. As for me? Well, I learned to accept it a long time ago. So long as it doesn’t interfere with my goals, then it is no concern of mine.”

Anders took a sip of his drink, letting his points sink in.

She frowned properly this time. Why was the power dynamic of thing a.. reoccuring topic today? Zuza lowered her voice, so that only Anders and Buddy would hear her.

“The Council is nothing without the clans, the clans are nothing without their members. It’s not just a one sided thing. It goes both ways. Sure I’m in charge of my recruits but I’m there to protect them as much as I’m there to lead them. That’s not being a tool for them, nor them a tool for me it’s just people. Working together.”

Anders lowered his voice to match hers, though he had a smile on his face. “Then will you do me a favour?”

She looked up, brown eyes meeting the Chiss’ red.

“What is it?”

There wasn’t distrust in her voice, plain curiosity.

“Should you inevitably take higher level leadership, remember this conversation. Remember it is you who serves those under your command, and not the other way around like so many have forgotten. I want you to prove me wrong.”

There was just a hint of a smirk in that challenge.

“I think I can do that.” Zuza held her hand up, the fingers curled in, in preparation for a fist bump pointed toward Anders.

A cheeky grin crossed her face.

“Espeically for a friend.”

Anders blinked, glaring at the Fist like it was an unknown object. He simply sighed, shook his head, and returned the fist bump.

BUDD-E beeped happily.

“Oh, be quiet,” Anders rolled his eyes at the droid.

Zuza’s grin broadened, picking up her glass and raising it to him before downing about half of it and tapping it back onto the bar.

HAHa YES SHE GOT HIM TO DO IT.

She didn’t want to overtly celebrate in front of him but the Human was absolutely buzzing internally.

“What did he say?” She asked, unable to contain the note of laughter in her tone.

Continuing to smoke the Cigarello she got from Sykes, Wenet listened to the chatter around her. Listening and observing were a great way to learn or to get to know people.

“He said I finally made a friend…”

Her smile softened slightly, taking a step closer and with the arm not currently cradling BUDD-E, pulled Anders into a sideways hug. As best as she could anyway. He was huge in comparison to her.

“That ya did!”

Anders stiffened. He was most definitely not a hugger. He had explained as much to Draca many times when the young man was still in his care.

“Yes… well…” Anders nervously feigned a cough, then gently patted Zuza on her shoulder. Thankfully, he was easily tall enough to reach. Why did people feel the need to express their emotions with physical gestures?

Zuza felt him tense and quickly detached. Noted.

“Sorry, shoulda asked.” She spoke sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck.

Evelyn blinked as she noticed something. Foxen. His shirt and the coat. Wait. Why did she not notice it earlier? Her eyes narrowed in frustration. Though her face showed nothing.

She frowned as emerald hues glared intensely at the glass. Was she getting too buzzed? Maybe a bit. She felt a bit of a lightheaded and the feeling good was started to get to her brain. Time to slow down.

Her hands went to the cushion of the couch as she got up and made her way out of the hallway. Observant eyes glanced around. She started to find them. One. Two. Three. Hmm. She worked on recollecting how many he may had been missing from first glance earlier.

Four. He’s missing four. She squatted down in the middle of the hallway and paused while her sharp eyes went to work. Then she tilted her head to look at the ceiling. Aha. Sneaky little bastard.

She stood up straight and eyes were glued onto the ceiling as if she was a predator to a prey. Walked underneath it, she glanced at the hallway, side to side. Shoved the four buttons down her pocket, she placed her hands on the narrow hallway and jumped. She almost slipped but she regained her composure.

‘Yep. Time to slow down on the drinking.’

Her feet landed on the walls of the hallway. She climbed up and grabbed the button that was stuck to the ceiling. Now got ahold of the last one, she placed it between her teeth while her hands went to the wall. Her legs closed and she landed onto the floor swiftly.

Back into the lounge, she looked to Foxen. Her fingers went up to the button she had between her teeth and now held it. “Erinos, I have my emergency sewing kit with me. Want me to sew the buttons back on?”

BUDD-E was having none of that.

It pushed against Zuza, forcing the much smaller Human to stagger back into Anders. The droid leapt out of her arms, spinning in the air and taking a potentially embarrassing picture of the two of them together as friends.

Zuza squeaked as she shoved back into Anders, bringing her hands up instinctively and managing to not end up face first in his chest and just.. hand first. She looked round, already laughing as she saw Buddy spin, and a small flash emit from the droid.

She stepped back, lowering her hands awkwardly, although the Human was laughing openly; her face a touch flushed though that could have been the alcohol.

The Nautolan had watched the Wyvern’s exit, but had not necessarily expected her return; nor the offer and possession of his buttons. He’d already resigned himself to tossing the articles when he got to the house and replacing them, unless Flyndt wanted them for his (growing) collection of other of Foxen’s damaged shirts. Mending was possible, but so was purchase, so why bother when he didn’t need or want to?

But here was the tailor, to whom he had commissioned several outfits over the years. Emergency sewing kit: tactical advantage.

Well, he didn’t want to take off his shirt here, but they could perhaps sort something out.

Nodding and adding a yes along with thank you, Foxen undid the other interior buttons of his coat and shrugged massive shoulders out of the heavier garment, folding it over once before offering it out, hand positioned for optimal avoidance of brushing fingers. The black wool was, of course, prime quality, and more of his shirt underneath and belt tucked into trousers was revealed.

Also: several pieces of silverware fell out of the coat, oops. That’s what happened with improvising. Forks and steak knives were not fit for his custom hidden sheathes.

BUDD-E landed on the nearest table, knocking over a couple of drinks as it immediately got to work transmitting the image to Zuza’s datapad…

“Awh my drink.” Zuza pouted a little for a moment but at least it hadn’t been much left.

She looked up to Anders, trying to think of something to say and then ending up laughing all over again.

“No offense taken, Doc.” Koda smirked, “I don’t know if friend is quite the term I’d use for Kah'ri here quite yet, but we’ll be getting there. I only met the man a few moments ago.” He leaned up against the bar and sighed, doing his best to shove down his anxieties of large rooms of people.

Sykes chuckled a little. “He takes a little to get used to. Kah’ri is an …interesting character. Quite the gentleman normally.”

The Sith smiled lightly as he eyed Kah’ri. Who are you about, Clown? Why would you be associating with the Republic?

Sykes smiled at the Duo. “What do made you come here? Rarely do members of the Brotherhood socialize between the Clans.”

Anders had to fight the urge not to laugh, instead resorting to a snort. Then, his face became blank, the mind of an Inquisitor deep in thought.

BUDD-E tilted its head at him, recognising that look all too well.

“Lady Zuza, if I may, when you last saw Draca, did he make any other friends on that mission? I require as much information as I can get before I confront him again.”

“I don’t really.. remember him singling anyone out. He picked me up at one point, for good reason I was about to shanked by a Droideka, the shield on those things is awesome- but anyway there were a few of us. We all got along pretty well but if he picked anyone specifically to gravitate to I’m.. not sure? Everyone on that mission met him though, Marick- the Exarch, he puts out reports on each mission with the debrief and everything.”

Zuza rambled off, aware of how little she knew but trying at least. They’d find out more tomorrow.

Komilia sat near the freezer, cooling down after that embarrassing moment. Why had she asked that lady if she knew her Dad? This place…she felt like she belonged and yet was seeing it from an unexperienced angle.

Despite her feelings she knew she needed to get back out there. She needed the credits and staying at her little pod wasn’t gonna be possible if she didn’t have a good night.

Straightening her hair she tentatively checked the door before walking through and putting back on a smile.

“Anyone need to place an order?” She asked as she walked out behind the bar.

Sykes looked at her and his smiled widened. Oh my. It’s not often I get to see them again. I couldn’t kill that one though. Powerful and as sweet her Luck was. Such a shame. She is a waste of space but there is no way I could face her Father if she had died on that mission. Charged with her safety indeed. He raised his arm and waved at the waitress. “Over here.”

<@679032520699805708>

“Perhaps I need to inquire this with the Exarch himself. I understand he performed admirably on the mission. I was the one who encouraged him to participate, and even recommended his services to Mr Tyris.”

“He did really well. Helped me out a good few times and the crew.” Zuza commented. She hoped Draca was okay. The guy didn’t deserve whatever had happened that caused this. She doubted it was just acting out, not with how he’d been that day.

“I dunno if Marick would know any more than I do. He did our briefing and debriefing so he’d have the names but so does the one he published.” It wasn’t like Zuza could set up that kind of meeting too, kriff she was at Maricks home for tea with the family every week often times. It just didn’t feel… as likely to pull anything up. She had picked up on some things as an infiltrator.

“I see. That us unfortunate, though I suppose it cannot be helped,” maybe it was the amount of alcohol he’d had up till now, but curiosity was nipping at his tongue. “How much do you know about what happened to Draca?”

The Rutian in the nightsister dress sat at the bar observing the other patrons. Her Rylothian Yurp only half gone but already warm, she pushed it away and ordered a Tatooine Sunset. She stared at the layers of fruit juice and alcohol as they did their best to replicate the famous sunsets of the dessert planet. “Kark, I’m must be really bored if I’m daydreaming about that shithole.” She looked around at the groups of seemingly random sentients. A room full of people and still feeling utterly alone. She sipped her drink and continued to watch the juvenile posturing of some and dangerous appetites of others. So many interesting people, so little that actually interested her.

Zuza ordered another drink. BUDD-E had knocked over her last one after all.

“On the mission, quite a bit. He came out without any hurts, worried about all of us. Healed me though it was only a bruise. Anything after though, we didn’t exchange comm codes or anythin’. And I was a bit busy, honestly. Lotta things came up, so I wasn’t really paying attention to folk out of Arcona for a while. All I know is what you’ve said.”

The drink arrived, the same thing as shed had before and the Human picked the drink up, taking a small sip.

Anders weaved the intricate threads of the Force through his mind, connecting his thoughts with Zuza. Despite outward appearances. He always had his reasons.

‘I do apologise for the mental intrusion, though I simply cannot risk anyone else overhearing us. Draca has unfortunately left my care and joined the Children of Mortis.’

Komilia turned to the call and hustled over. “What can I get for y…” she paused as she took in the man’s face.

Zuza jumped slightly in place at hearing his voice in her head.

Kriff.

She was used to her mind being read by atty by this point, having it go the other way was odd though the words stated were.. worse.

Her jaw dropped slightly for a moment before she closed it again. She wasn’t sure how much she could openly react.

“Oh. Oh kriff.” She drank rather heavily from the drink. That was about the WORST case scenario.

Anders pursed his lips. “You must tell no-one. I can’t stress how important it is that no-one else knows.”

BUDD-E had begun tilting its head, curious to be in on tbe conversation.

Zuza nodded, letting out a slow breath.

“Yeah. I.. I understand.”

A lot of people wouldn’t be anywhere near as open to the idea of trying to pull someone back who’d fallen in with the Children. Kisting kriff,

Knowing fear would please the Sith, Kah’ri gave it no quarter in him, choosing instead to focus his thoughts on his machinations. He retained an enigmatic smile as he poured his drink into the glass given to him earlier.

“Very true. However, this is one of those rare events where they do.” Kah’ri raised a glass and nodded to Sykes’s companion before taking a drink.

The Firrerreo closed his eyes to enjoy his ale, its burn pleasantly covering the his throat. The enjoyment was interrupted by a familiar voice. He turned, glass in hand, to see Komilia Lap’lamiz dressed as a server and asking for orders. Mixed feelings and thoughts bombarded him in a moment.

“Over here.” Sykes’s voice cut through Kah’ri’s developing thoughts.

He looked back at the Sith, a menacing grin smeared across his face.

“Oh boy…” the Savant mumbled into his glass as he took another drink. Fear wasn’t the word for what he was now feeling. If he had to put it into words, perhaps he’d call it earnest expectation.

Evelyn’s head gave a small nod when Foxen thanked her as she took the coat and let it hang over her arm. there was loud clanging as her eyes darted to the floor and the corner of left side of her lips twitched. Evelyn had to fight down a laugh.

She doesn’t blame him.

With a solid expression on her face, she made her way over to an empty area of the quiet lounge. It wouldn’t be ideal to do this at the couch, a lot can fall between the edges. So she sat in the corner. Away from traffic and it gave her space. Hues glanced around for a moment as she reached to one of her back pockets and got out a thin sewing emergency kit. It wasn’t much but it was enough for the buttons. Her legs criss crossed as she started to sew the buttons on the coat.

‘No doubt you understand how delicate this situation is. Draca’s reasons are not unjustified, so do not go blaming him for his actions. The fault is entirely mine…’

There was a hint of regret on Anders’ face, his eyes peering at something interesting on the table. BUDD-E leapt onto his shoulder, and nestled into his neck, trying to comfort him.

Quietly Wenet continued to observe. She could sense the tension in the room. She already knew that mister Sykes wasn’t fond of Jedi or anyone associated with Clan Odan-Urr, but he didn’t seem to fond of the Taldryans either. Wenet still didn’t know enough about all the clans to understand but it was interesting to watch the interactions.

It became even more interesting when another joined the conversation. A female waitress whose demeanor instantly changed, like the fur on a Kushiban, when she saw mister Sykes. Wenet lowered her cigarello and frowned slightly as she watched the interaction. Mister Kah'ri seemed to be interested aswell as a sudden grin appeared on his face. ‘Should I stay or should I go?’ Wenet thought to herself but Ofcourse she stayed as curiosity was stronger than anything.

Asani wasn’t sure how it is she had managed to find herself as a guest at a fancy party but she was happy to be involved in anything alone for once. No family around just herself and whatever poor social skills she could manage.

Her dress and hat combination was definitely something she wasn’t sure about but at this point she had made it all the way she may as well stick with it. Upon arriving she made sure to make a mental map of everything, especially any escape route. Not having weapons or armor made her feel vulnerable. She was obviously in over her head but was stubborn enough to convince herself she didn’t need the help. “Its just a party, no one stupid enough to try anything.” she comforted herself.

It wasn’t so bad though, she had managed to find her way to the bar and there was a table of food close by. She recognized Zuza but choose to walk by, they had company and seemed busy. Choosing the very last stool at the bar before noticing it might’ve already been taken. She chose to hop onto a free one close by and ask for some water. Socializing was not an easy task, she looked around at the other patrons subtly. How did her sister ever get to talking to anyone?

“It.. jeez Anders.” Zuza exhaled slowly. “I.. I’m not going to go yelling about it no. But if he’s.. hurt anyone or worked for them then that’s gonna end up real different. You know that right?”

She spoke softly, quietly.

Anders hushed her, placing a finger to his lips as he glanced around to make sure no-one heard her.

‘Use your thoughts, I can hear them. I am fully prepared to accept the consequences of his actions, should it come to that. What has happened was a mistake eleven years in the making. One that I intend to rectify.’

Oh. Uh- Zuza was very unsure how to feel about that. The mind reading. Though Draca too. Oh god could he read past her- Can you read past my thoughts, like the other thought thoughts? Oh no. But I’ve Zig is cute like ten times today- can you see my thoughts or just hear them- Kriff I’m sorry this weird, uhm. What happened?

Eleven years? I was like- im 24, so 23 and then uh, 13? Yeah 13 then- I guess a lot of things happened in that much time ago-

Zuza managed to cut herself off mentally, mostly, focussing on her drink and staring off into the distance as she took another exaggerated sip.

‘Zuza, whatever is happening, calm down. This is a rudimentary level connection. If you are concerned I can read your every little thought, I can’t. I can only hear what you are willing to send, unless you want me to strengthen the connection.’

Anders watched her carefully. Seriously, people’s understanding of mental powers needed advancing…

Oh. Zuza blinked. uh- Jeez when Atty does this she just kind of knows everything yknow? That’s kinda my only experience except this one guy on Dandoran, we were at a bar, its a really cool bar actually but anyway.

She paused, cheeks flushing as she tried to focus, rather self conscious but at least relieved that he wasn’t seeing everything.

I don’t have much experience. Sorry, I don’t know.. what to send or not so uh- Sorry. Kriff. I just hope Draca hasn’t done anything y'know? He’s so sweet, I doubt it’d really be him being malicious but if they got him to do something that could end up being messy. I can try and help but kriff, you have more influence than me I think. I know people in Arcona, few elsewhere, but not any real power or anything jeez. I dunno if I’d want it even.

‘There is a good possibility that either Atyiru is being nosey, or simply doesn’t realise what she’s doing. I appreciate the offer though…’

Anders cut the Telepathy there. “I just thank you sincerely for your help thus far. Hopefully tomorrow will yield answers to questions that I have…”

Zuza was quite relieved. It was cool as hell but a bit much when unexpected.

“Hopefully. If there’s any to be had from there, we should find it. And hey, it’s no problem.”

She shrugged, mind racing as it had been before but as Anders could now tell, heavily metered in what was shared. The small Human knocked back the rest of her glass, considering it.

It really should have hit by now. Weird. Were they doing her dirty on the shot sizes or something?

The Consul of Clan Vizsla strode through the yacht with a clear purpose. Having landed in the hanger bay he set out as a man on a mission. Which he was, sent by the Regent on a personal delivery Korvis took his assignment quite seriously. Finding the Observation deck he found the man he was looking for in tattered robes staring blankly out the windowed viewport.

“Korvyn, I have a delivery from the Regent.” the Consul stated almost like he was delivering food to a patron at a restaurant.

“I haven’t ordered anything from anyone.” Korvyn replied, “You must be mistaken.”

“I assure you I am not. Word got to us that you had returned and were unable to retrieve your items from inside the Shadow Academy. It took some doing but Zxyl was able to retrieve your lightsaber. However your other items were destroyed.” continued Korvis, “ As a former member of Clan Vizsla I have taken it upon myself to replace your Robes and your ship. I hope they are adequate to your needs.”

Handing over a security key to the former Vizslan Korvis said his parting words. “We hunted for you, for years. I wish we had found you.”

Not waiting for a reply the Ratattaki turned around and walked off as quickly as he had arrived.

“I must admit I am a bit nervous. How do I look, Lola?” Meero asked his small companion droid as they both arrived at the party. Lola nudged him while beeping which he knew meant: “ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ᴡᴏʀʀʏɪɴɢ! ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ꜰɪɴᴇ!”

“Alright, alright!” He chuckled as he went inside and got his first look at the event. The atmosphere was something he was very much familiar with as it reminded him of parties and events back home. However, what really caught his attention were the guests. Having only recently joined the Brotherhood, he was fascinated and impressed by all the colorful people attending. Despite not knowing anyone at the event, he still felt strangely at ease. Mostly because he was aware weapons weren’t allowed.

Meero managed to make his way to the bar with his little companion hovering alongside him. He found an empty stool and, being smaller than most people there, hopped on it as he raised his hand to get the bartender’s attention. “I’ll have a Bespin Sparkle, if you would be so kind! Thank you!” While he waited for his drink he turned to keep admiring the people present.

Asani sighed into the delivered cup of water while staring around a little more. There were a lot of people around that she didn’t know, and without her social butterfly of a sister she was at a loss. “She just talks at people and they talk back its not that hard.” She needed to work on her social skills more that much was clear to her. Soon she heard someone sit next to her and twitched her ears. It sounded more like a hop than a sitting motion though.

“I’ll have a Bespin Sparkle, if you would be so kind! Thank you!” she heard the voice call out, she turned to look and there was another kushiban there. Yellow eyes, glasses, he was well dressed. He seemed nice, or at least polite anyway.

“H-hello, nice party isn’t it?” she asked, she was doing her best to socialize but if it wasn’t staring down the barrel of a gun or running around creating havoc with or for her sister she didn’t really known what to talk about. The weather? Blasters? Droids? How did Sagitta talk so much?!

Vreva sipped absentmindedly at her lemon water. The silence in the lounge was a stark contrast to the dance area. It almost made her sleepy, though the pleather barstool wasn’t nearly comfortable enough.

It was kind of Evelyn to sew up Foxen’s jacket… Maybe Vreva had been quick to judge her.

The sound of a message coming through on her commlink startled her. She avoided dropping her drink and quickly brought up the message on her screen. Her golden eyes scanned quickly to determine whether or not she should read it out loud, then a slower read brought a wide grin. She looked to Foxen with excitement.

“Kark yeah! I mean– Yes, I’d like to learn!” She dialed herself back a bit, but the sound of her voice was still thunderous in the quiet room. “Got a book, but it’s been slow getting through it.”

She glanced to Savi with a smirk. “And I mean, I know a few choice words already. But they’re not really conversation starters.”

Savi stopped themselves from taking another sip of their drink, letting their lips remain on the glass’s narrow brim while they looked over at Vreva. “Oh? Do tell what those words are,” they replied with a wink, “Sounds like fun.”

Meero’s ears twitched as he turned towards her. His eyes widened when he saw the blue-eyed kushiban in a lovely black dress sitting next to him. It had been a long while since he’s seen another of his kind. “Oh! Uh, hello! Why y-yes it is!”

The bartender approached Meero with his drink in hand. “One Bespin Sparkle!”

“Oh, thank you so much!” He said while taking his drink. He then nervously adjusted his glasses as he turned back to the other kushiban. “Forgive me, this is a surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see another kushiban here.”

She saw his eyes widen and couldn’t help but try to avoid making her own surprise obvious, she had grabbed her tail and started rubbing it gently. “No no its fine, you’re the only other kushiban i’ve uh ever seen out here.” she commented, reassuring him that the surprise was mutual.

She could almost feel her cheeks flush a gentle blue, before coughing gently and looking back at her water. “So what brings a kushiban like you to a party like this?” she asked, trying to make conversation.

“Are you OK? You seem to be drinking an awful lot.”

Thankfully, BUDD-E was there to catch any potentially embarrassing moments the Human did under inebriation.

Wenet’s ears twitched when she heard the word ‘Kushiban’ fall in a conversation not far from her. She turned and glanced between the other guests at the bar and to her surprise she saw not one but two of her kind sitting further away.

She would go up to them to say hello but she was kinda stuck between the odd standoff between mister Sykes and the waitress he seemed to know personally and the others people that were waiting for something to happen..

While Evelyn departed to work quietly, a pierced brow lifted at the Zabrak’s sheer… enthusiasm.

🦈: Book inferior for learning a kinetic language. Also possibly not your ideal input. Everyone learns swears first. As is appropriate. Efficient communication: 🖕 🦈: offer: come sit here ≤ 1 m away and I will show you basics. Do you know alphabet or only letters for your name.

“Yeah I was kind of expecting to feel it by now.” Zuza responded, looking at the glass suspicious before placing it on the counter top. “I’m good. Apparently really good if I feel this normal still.”

She knew she really shouldn’t though. There was temptation to get another, admittedly partiakly because when drunk people tended to not talk business, but she had a feeling it probably wasn’t the best idea. Yet. Probably.

She shrugged, spotting BUDD-E being oddly.. attentive to her and sticking her tongue out at the little droid.

BUDD-E raised a mechanical, performing an action that looked strangely like… was it trying to wave a fist at her?

“Don’t mind him, he’s just being eccentric,” Anders said, finishing what remained in his glass. He had to wonder if Zuza had a point, though he daren’t not get drunk in case he unintentionally reveal sensitive information.

That would be disastrous.

BUDD-E, naturally, protested, shaking its leg towards Anders next.

“Well uh…” Meero also stared at his drink, feeling his own cheeks gently turning blue. “I’m actually new around here. I heard about this party and thought it might be a good place to get to know people.” He politely extended his hand towards her while giving a gentle smile. “My name is Meero. It’s an absolute pleasure meeting you.”

“Its a pleasure to meet you too!” Asani said a bit louder than she had intended to, she was nervous and it was obvious in her tone. “ah s-sorry im ah not used to talking to other kushiban” she was doing her best to play it cool yet it was obvious she was in fact failing miserably.

“My names Asani.” She took his hand in her own shaking it gently. “So um…what do you do for work?” she asked, this was going as smooth as it possibly could. She hadn’t run out for the hills yet unlike last time she spoke face to face with a guy. She still needed to apologize for that. But apart from loosing control of her vocal chords it was going smoothly.

She’d grinned at the droid’s reaction, amused.

“One of you has to be.” Zuza jested, “It might be alright, the booze, at least. I’ve won a drinking competition or two in my time. One of them against Doon, who’s HUGE. Like. Shistavanen’s can be big right, but he’s just giant. Taller than you by quite a bit. And I beat him at drinking.”

She grinned, evidently quite pleased with herself.

Komilia turned towards the customer who flagged her down. “Sure, what can I…” her mouth hung agape when she saw the customer. It was like a door in her mind had been unlocked.

Images rushed in front of her. The ill gotten adventure on the patrol craft. The station. The man in front of her attacking her. The tentacles that slowly approached her. Her weakness at being able to stop it.

Then the scream. The world shattering scream as her soul, her Force, her everything was drained from her body. There he is. Just sitting there, casually conversing while drinking his ale.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! YOU RAPED MY MIND!!!!” Komilia screeched as she launched herself over the bar. The man, Sykes, had a look of surprise as her body connected with his. She began to pummel at his face but he was able to deflect the first blow.

<@800517155389046794>

The Kushiban gasped in shock when she heard the woman’s scream. “He did what!?” But before she knew it the woman launched herself over the bar. Wenet quickly jumped out of the way and landed on the bar.

Eyes wide she watched the scene unfold, then suddenly she realized she was on the bar and felt embarrassed. Her fur became darker as she looked for an opening to jump off.

Meero chuckled a bit. “Oh that’s alright! You’re the first one I’ve met outside of my family so the feeling is very much mutual.” He could tell she wasn’t comfortable in this kind of atmosphere so he tried to help her feel more at ease. “And uh well, I’m a technician! You need anything fixed, I’m your guy. I’m also a pretty good pilot! Although, I don’t have a ship of my own yet.” He said slightly embarrassed.

As he spoke he couldn’t help but notice the notch in her ear and the gap of fur in her tail. However, he refrained from asking about them to not be rude or make her feel more uncomfortable. “What about you? What do you do? If you don’t mind me asking of course.”

Sykes hit the ground with a thud and the air came out of his lungs. He reflexively blocked her first punch but quickly felt her first hit his nose. “You stupid-“ the Sith threw as much force into his left fist at the girl and was shocked as she immediately sat up, his fist hitting nothing but air.

Komilia was back on him instantly and her fists connected with his face twice more. “You bastard!!” She screamed

Sykes tried to ward off her blows the best he could. His rage began to build and the Force began to flow through him. He tried to reach into her mind but the girl was a brick wall. Another blow connected across his face, cutting his cheek. “Get off me Di’kut!”

The sounds of commotion reached the quiet lounge whose quiet was becoming precarious with distant hubbub. Frowning, Foxen flicked red eyes towards the door, listening intently for any indication that whatever was going on was coming their way, but the sound stayed localized.

Absolutely the frak not and no thank you.

He continued his breathing and maintained well-situated wall position.

He would root for the female screaming at her rapist silently. Sounded like she was winning, anyway.

Should try a knife, lady.

“I am not an idiot you iba'shabuir jagyc mir'sheb shabuir,” Komilia let fly with a string of Mando'a she’d picked up over the last several months working in the worse type of bars in the galaxy.

Whatever Sykes had broken in her came flooding back in a rage. Her muscles constricted as the Force flowed through her again. Lacking any finesse she wailed upon Sykes’s face. She ignored the pain as Sykes dodged a few of the blows and his fists split open upon the cold floor.

Blood sprayed wildly as her rage carried her animalistic insticts to kill the man.

Zuza jumped as a fight suddenly and seemingly randomly broke out, her hand going to her hip but kriff- no weapons.

She hesistated. Melee was.. not her forte but this was. Kriff. What had happened?

Frond appeared at her side, rubbing up against her leg as he shifted in front of her, ears laid back and golden eyes.

Zuza stepped forward, not enough to be involved in the fray but calling out.

“Hey, not here!”

Wenet hopped off the bar onto the ground and moved away from the commotion. “Better stay out of that” she said and straightened her jacket.

Wenet looked around, the two other Kushiban were still chatting at the bar despite the fight that was happening not far from them.. she wanted to say hello but felt awkward so decided to just return to the buffet for another snack. All this commotion made her feel peckish… she swayed a little as she made her way across the room..

Mikhail had idled by the wall across the room from the commotion. He was enjoying his brief wallflower moment after the heated conversation. That was ruined by the screamed accusation and immediate bloody knuckle brawl that broke out between two at the bar. He recoiled slightly at the sound of flesh slapping the ground, leaving bloody trails through the air.

What a mess. And it could have very well been him that started it - should he had been pushed.

“бешеные уроды….”

He stayed where he was, leaning against the wall. He was suddenly much more perceptive of his surroundings, even though he doubted any violence would come his way. While he gripped his cane tight, his other hand idly patted his abdomen, where his medical kit was wrapped inside his jacket.

Sykes did his best to dodge as many blows as he could but cuts started to open around his eyes. Blood was clouding his vision and making everything blurry. The girl on top of him swung again but this time he was able to catch her blow with his left, grab her neck with his right. He bucked his hips throwing her to the side and off of him.

The Sith quickly took his opportunity and scrambled to his feet. He tried to wipe the blood from his eyes and looked at her as the girl stood again. He waved her forward. “C’mon kid. Let’s finish this.”

Evelyn’s head snapped up from the sewing as she watched Foxen reacted the same.

He entered back and was not interested. At all.

Her gaze hardened as she place the coat over the arm of the couch and set the sewing kit aside calmly and made her way towards the commotion sound.

Komilia didn’t respond, she reached on the bar and grabbed the tray she had dropped there and flung it at Sykes. Like the brawler he was he batted it down with a maul of a fist.

Komilia’s vision narrowed. She was out of control. She knew what her father would have done in this situation and she raised her hand, arching her fingers.

Yet, her inexperience with using the Force in combat showed itself as Force Lightning arced from her clawed hand and swept down the row of bottles behind the bar. Glass and liquor exploded across the bar before she could rein in her power.

Savran turned to watch the commotion as it broke out, folding their arms comfortably across their chest. “I was wondering when something like this would happen,” they commented, a hint of sadistic amusement ringing in their voice. “Took longer than I expected, to be honest.”

When the lightning exploded from the woman’s hands, though, Savran’s face darkened a bit. What a reckless use of such a powerful technique. Though, they couldn’t necessarily blame her, given what she’d accused the man of. They took a slight step back while keeping their attention squarely on the escalating scuffle, while simultaneously focusing their attention on obscuring their own presence in the Force until nothing remained. Just in case.

“You’re the first kushiban Ive met outside of my one time travel back to kushibah” she commented, flushing blue again. “Well id love to take a flight sometime, maybe Buir will let me borrow the ship and you can teach me, im not good at the flying thing” she mused nervously, could he tell she had a knot in her throat?

Then Asani looked over his shoulder, upon hearing bloody murder, surprised and defensive she grabbed Meeros hand, guiding him to hop down from the bar chairs as quickly as possible, setting herself between him and the commotion, while using the bar and the chairs as cover. “Bunch of good for nothing shabiir around” she growled, her fur bristling slightly. Soon there was lightning and bottles were blowing up. This was not somewhere safe to be any longer.

“Wed better move somewhere safe.” she commented, Asani would guide Meero to a safer local away from the bar. She was now officially very annoyed and ready to throw things at them, considering she had no weapons for the night it would be all she could do. One night without commotion is all she wanted, one normal night without the chaos of combat.

Anders stepped in front of her and Frond after the blast of lightning. Such careless use of a deadly power could cause severe mistakes, and he readied himself to interfere. Such scoundrels. There had no respect for etiquette in the slightest.

He would ready himself of he had too, otherwise, he would allow the vessel’s security to handle matters.

If they didn’t, however, then he had his ways of being…

Persuasive.

As the brawl broke out Elly couldn’t help but roll her eyes in both disgust and disappointment. This was just more reinforcement and reason to stay away from the Brotherhood. Can’t even go a party without some form of violence.

She gave Kah'ri a pat on the shoulder “Nice choice in friends” and took a good few steps back from the fight, bringing her drink along with her to a nice cozy wall a safe distance away.

Vreva’s attention was grabbed by the brawl outside the lounge. She stood from her seat and craned her head to see the fight better. “Damn, they’re going at it. Glad we left there when we did. Sparks flying.”

“We’d better move somewhere safe.” She commented.

“Yeah I couldn’t agree more.” He said looking back at the commotion. “Lola! Pocket!” He told his little droid as she immediately flew into his pocket. He then followed Asani away from the bar.

“Agreed,” they commented, “I’ll be damned if this outfit gets singed.”

The blue Twi’lek sat leaning on the bar, staring at her drink when the fighting broke out. She didn’t even flinch. “The karker deserves that and more. Bloody nose vampires,” she muttered to herself. The bottles exploded behind the bar showering her in glass shards and alcohol, but she remained. The shrapnel harmlessly sliding off her force barrier. She calmly hopped off the stool. “Hey, <@741417155546841158>, want to see the view for the Observation Deck? This room has suddenly become too crowded for my taste,” she asked the Kushiban that had seemed liked friendly company earlier.

Kah’ri covered his drink from collateral debris that flung his way.

He sighed. “Sykes had it coming.” He said, setting his covered drink down. He turned to the scuffle with a disappointed look and considered stepping in. Sykes was a higher rank than him and Komilia was the Emperor’s daughter. Neither belong to House Acclivis Draco, but both represent the clan to some degree. He sighed again.

Lightning traveled the bar, shattering his bottle of ale as well as the stocked bottles behind the bartender. Glass and flaming alcohol launched in all directions causing almost all the bar patrons to cover their eyes. Lowering his arm, Kah’ri noted something else had dropped into his drink, distorting it’s color and effectively ruining his drink. “Even so…” he said, standing from his stool. “This is unacceptable.”

His eyes now traced back to the two Palatineans.

Now then.

Wenet was staring at the buffet, trying to ignore the ruckus at the bar and try some of the vegetarian snacks. When she heard her name she looked up, “yes please” she said and threw some food on a plate to take with her…

Zuza had her arm on the bar. Anders had stepped in front of her but there was no block between her and clambering up.

However security arrived and there was no need. She lowered her leg back to the ground, settling with a slight frown on her face even as she continued to watch to make sure things didn’t escalate any further.

Koda raised his drink and let out a cheer, “I always love me a good fight. Though usually I have a good meal to go along with them. But I doubt this place has my kind of grub.” He chuckled, watching the fight happen.

Sinya’ni started for the door with the Kushiban, extending the force barrier to protect the diminutive furry. As they made their exit, the security was taking care of the scuffle. “Not sure why they stopped that. Was just a little dust up. Seemed like the brain sucker had it coming anyway.”

Evelyn watched from the hallway and was glad things were taken care of. Emerald hues stared at the damages for a moment. She headed back to the quiet lounge.

The hybrid went back to her corner, sat down criss cross applesauce once again and grabbed Foxen’s coat to finish sewing the buttons back on.

Anders, had, naturally, noticed a shift in Zuza’s body. Thankfully, the fighting had stopped, and Zuza had stopped herself from doing, in Anders’ opinion, something reckless.

“You were about to run across that bar, weren’t you?”

Zuza grinned, having the wherewithal to look sheepish at being called out.

“It’d be quicker than trying to barge through everyone else. Would have been. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done something like that and it’s nearly always gone perfectly fine.” She smoothed out the skirt of her dress before looking up at him, the sheepishness fading into a more cheeky grin, “I wouldn’t have tripped on anything, you saw me in the temple. Would’ve been pretty badass.”

Anders had to shake his head, though it did little to hide the smirk that grew from his lips.

After all, it was the kind of thing Draca would do.

“As impressive as it might have been, what exactly were you planning on doing once you got to them?”

“Get between them, pull them apart. It kinda depended on what they were doing when I got there.” Zuza shrugged, “Better than doing nothin’.”

Frond huffed, nudging her leg with his nose and she rolled her eyes.

“You’re both worry warts.”

Through the entire time the scuffle happened Asani maintained herself between Meero and the perceived danger. Once they were clear, and the ruckus had been taken care of, she noticed she had lead him to the farthest corner of the food bar away from the battling duo.

“Somehow I don’t think anyone was really expecting a fight to break out. Or they were and chose to watch…” she commented, considering the type of people around it was likely the later of the two. “Oh you have a droid with you?” She asked, having noticed he had commanded the little droid to hide in his pocket. She was decidedly more confident with danger around than simple conversation it seemed.

“Hehe, chose to watch seems more likely.” He jested but then paused as he noticed Asani was still holding his hand which caused him to flush blue. He gently let go, adjusted his glasses and straightened his shirt. “A-and yes actually, this is L0-LA26. Or just Lola. She’s been my friend since I was a kid.”

The little blue-striped droid slowly flew out of Meero’s pocket making sure the commotion had stopped. Once she saw the coast was clear she looked at Asani and started beeping. Meero smiled and translated “She says hi and that it’s great to finally be part of the conversation.”

“I’m not worrying. I’m trying to get you to see that interfering without a plan could have been disastrous for you. There was Force Lightning at play. By all means, interfere, they deserved to lose the hands they used so dearly, but you must be smart about it.”

He sighed, in some minor ways, Zuza reminded him of Draca. That abundant energy and desire to help others… it was familiar.

Komilia jumped off the floor, gasping for breath. What had happened? Where was she? The events rushed over her like the waterfall of Canto Bight. “Where are you?” Komilia demanded, searching her surroundings.

There. There he was. In another cage across from her still unconscious. <@800517155389046794>. A bloody snot bubble slowly expanded and contracted with his breathing. Komilia struggled to her feet and pushed against the invisible barrier restraining her.

Her eyes darted like a caged animal looking a means to escape but found nothing. “Hey! Let me out of here! Let me finish what I started!” Komilia screeched at her captors, whereever they might be.

“Usually my plans go worse than my improvisations.” Zig had taught her that words.

“My most recent plan was to handle the situation quietly. It did not go quietly. I tried. I ended up getting out fine the loud way.”

Well, other than getting shot. Eh, minor problem.

Zuza grinned while shrugging again.

“You misunderstand. I’m not suggesting you plan ahead of every scenario. That would be impossible, ” Anders placed a hand under his chin. “What I’m suggesting is in-the-moment strategy, reading the moment, predicting your opposition so that you may better counter them. Some of this comes down to experience, but a lot of it comes down to a certain mindset. Improvising will only get you so far before you get shot.”

He had no idea how right he was…

After the commotion, the Arkanian drifted from the main room into a side room that appeared less hectic than the bar that was now under hurried repairs. He stepped into the room and drew in a breath of cool air. The bar was getting stuffy what with the number of bodies.

His attention was drawn immediately to the towering Foxen who seemed to be busy in conversation with the others present. He didn’t know them, except for the white haired one on the floor who seemed to be busy with a needle and thread.

He slowly approached, this time standing over her as she had to him at his stall. Though, he didn’t want to come off as imposing. With flat heels he squatted, holding his cane by the middle. His face was strangely concerned. Something about this was reminiscent to the Arkanian, and he seemed to have trouble deciding on if it was a positive or negative memory.

“Need any help?” He spoke softly, crystal eyes focused on the buttons.

“Oh I have been.” Zuza responded non-chalatantly. She did look sheepish a moment after but it cleared quickly. She wasn’t new to any of this. “I know. I mean, kriff, volatile situation and I needed to get there quick so I was choosin’ the quickest way there. I don’t have a way to deal with lightnin’, it was just getting things broken up.”

The Human shrugged, patting Frond on the head as the Cythraul settled down to sit beside her.

Anders gave a slow nod, though he eyed her curiously. “Interesting… I do wonder…”

He seemed to disappear into his own thoughts, like he was connecting pieces of a puzzle together to create a clear picture.

Only that puzzle just so happened to be Zuza.

“Wonder what?” Zuza asked, raising an eyebrow with a slight smile of amusement.

For her, there wasn’t much to put together. Go in, something something something, she won! Usually.

“If there’s more to your Force-Sensitivity than was initially expected.”

Anders answered bluntly, like it wasn’t much of a big deal, more a general curiosity, given what he’s seen of her, and what she’s relayed to him of her experiences.

Zuza blinked once, then twice.

She narrowed her eyes, a grin crossing her face after a moment. Anders wasn’t the type to joke but that was a good one. The Human laughed lightly, raising a hand to her face, “Oh you almost had me for a second there.”

Soon enough it slowly turned from genuine to nervous chuckles as she looked back up to the Chiss and saw him looking down at her with the same very frank expression. Wait. She paused. Glanced down to Frond who, now bored, was sniffing.. something on the floor. Unhelpful Frond. Brown eyes looked back up to Anders’ red.

“Sorry- what?”

From his position pressed securely to the wall sitting on floor in remaining debuttoned shirt, Foxen observed silently as the Wyvern returned unmarked and listened to the commotion in the other room suddenly cease. When nothing further occurred, and the Evelyn resumed sewing, the Tekauni and the Vreva still at the bar, he simply returned to observation.

Breaths remained controlled. Heartbeat returned to normal range. The self: wobbly. Home desired. But sweating/shaking/panic: passed(?) for moment.

Then another entered the quiet lounge, heralded by uneven gait and cane tapping. The blacksmith. Foxen’s red eyes zeroed in on the figure as it approached the Wyvern, wary of threat. Cane: blunt instrument, even partially dismantled. Sewing needle, while sharp, was very thin and bendable, unlike a knitting needle, more suitable weapon.

Hrm.

Eyes narrowed, watching. The Kadnikov made query of assistance. Supposition: doubt. The Wyvern was little for assistance, historically.

Also: didn’t give you permission to touch my shit, pal. Try it and I’m coming over there.

Evelyn was so focused to keep the buzz at bay so she could do a good job at this. She finished the first button and moved onto the second. It wasn’t until he got close to her that she acknowledge his presence.

Her head snapped up fast and emerald hues watched him while he lowered himself to squat, with the cane in the middle.

Her eyes narrowed at him. She knows the danger and damages a cane can do. Though she recognized him immediately.

“You were the one at the blacksmith stall in Aurora Collegium Freshers’ Fair and Farmer’s market. I cannot remember your name.”

Her eyes darted to Foxen and he had the most displeased bitch face that she hadn’t seen in awhile. Her head lowered to hide a small crack at the corner of her lips.

“It’s not mine for you to ask.” Evelyn brought up before fixing her face to be more stoic. “Thank you for asking. I’m alright.”

She started on the second button.

“I asked if you were in military and you said yes. What military?”

He followed her gaze across the room to the… unhappy face of Foxen. He frowned, then looked back at the jacket she was working on. He watched her hands work as she questioned him, causing a brief pause in his breathing.

“Mikhail, is the name. Kadnikov Mikhail Petrovich.” He slowly turned the cane over a few times, rolling it between his gloved fingertips as he glances around the room once more. “First Order.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s certainly rare, but it’s not impossible, especially given the feats you’ve performed, you’re narrow scrapes from the clutches of death that I have personally witnessed firsthand, and the fact the Exarch took a personal interest in teaching you to wield a lightsaber. To me, it points to a hidden Force latency that may be hidden deep within, waiting to be awoken. All it needs is the right trigger.”

Anders then shrugged.

“Or I’m wrong, and this is the extent of your ability to touch the Force. Only time will tell, I suppose.”

Evelyn made sure the button was lined up quickly and the threads were exactly the same style as the rest of it.

“Kadnikov. I’m Wyvern.”

She finished up the second button when he responded of his military. This cause a sharp wince on her face as she accidently pricked herself with the needle. Quickly, with her free hand she remove the coat from possible blood stain as her finger went to her mouth.

“Mm.” She understood the importance of military but one thing she can never get over was how First Order handled things.

Children. While Evelyn wasn’t a big fan of children, there’s a certain threshold that should never be considered or crossed.

To her, First Order was effective but morally disgusting. They should’ve never existed.

And now, she had a possible enemy right before her.

Her emerald eyes looked to the cane for a moment before going back up to the crystal ones behind those shades. She removed her finger and saw the bleeding had already stopped.

“I see. And now?”

First Order.

Though Foxen was already listening and watching, he watched harder. Shifted from his sitting position to one with his feet under him, though back still to wall, arms still braced around legs. Fork: in palm.

The Wyvern pricks her finger, sucks on it.

Well at least he knew she’d wipe it off before touching his coat again.

If she signals help, he will act.

But otherwise: frak that.

He watched the small prick of blood disappear behind her lips. He blinked and met her gaze, an almost disappointed look crawled across his face. “Now.. I volunteer. Field Medic, Pilot. Mechanic even. Whatever is needed.”

His eyes drift down the the avian head on his cane, slowly spinning in the air. “Sewing, if necessary.” He added, watching the polished metal reflect the room around him.

“Why?” He looked back up at her, curious. His free hand combed through his hair, sweeping it back despite it not having moved.

“Let me rephrase.” She wiped her finger at her pants while kept an eye on Mikhail.

“Now, where does your loyalty lie?” She couldn’t be the one to judge. Evelyn wasn’t always part of the military herself.

He squinted slightly, but understood the question. She wasn’t a fan, nor was most anyone, of the First Order. Perhaps a veteran, a merc, or otherwise a victim of the war. He wasn’t sure.

“With.. myself. And.. to an extent.. my family.” He stated simply, still frowning. “If you must know, the Order betrayed me, then left me to rot. I feel no sympathy for them nor any who still support them.”

“Whut.” Zuza was staring at him, she realised after a few moments and looked away.

Yeah shed had a good few close calls over the years but the Force? Didn’t people usually very much know when they had that? Just having a knack for last second dodges didn’t mean anything.

Her mind rolled over the last few escapades shed been on. It had.. been odd. A couple of times. Blaster bolts that had come enough to burn her hair that shed sworn were aimed a few inches closer to her torso. But that didn’t mean anything. She’d gotten lucky in what was very unusual circumstances for both her and her attackers in those moments. Marick offered her lessons cause they gave her a lightsaber for becoming a Knight and instead of keeping it for the symbolism shed insisted on using it.

The Human opened her mouth once without creating a successful sentence, managing one on the second attempt, “I don’t have the Force. Or the ability to.. interact with it anyway. I think I’d have noticed by now.”

Holding her plate with vegetarian snacks, mainly garnish, Wenet followed Sinya'ni out of the main hall. The ruckus seemed to have come to an end but still the Kushiban was happy to step out for a bit. “Brain sucker? Eh… what do you mean?” She asked as she caught up with the Twi'lek woman. “Does that have to do something with what that lady said? That he.. eh.. raped her mind?” The Kushiban continued to ask…

Evelyn watched him before she looked down and check her finger. It was fine. She wiped it on her pants one more for good measure.

“Mmm.” The Epicanthix said nothing else as his words seemed to be very convincing.

However, Evelyn always believed on seeing than to listen some words.

Her free hand reached for the coat as she got out the third button from her pocket when she found them in the hallway earlier.

“That’s life of a solider. We’re used and discarded when no longer needed. There are officers or superiors that do their best. Few will miss us when we die. But in many, we are just instruments.”

Yet the pilot knew that she would do all she can to keep her comrades alive. She lined up the third and last button for the coat carefully. Double. Triple checked her work.

“Still, betrayal and being left to die, good enough reason to not be afflicted with them anymore.”

Her thumb was over the button and the needle was under, at the ready. Yet, she didn’t make a movement.

Her mind was slightly buzzed. Evelyn glanced up to Mikhail. There was a small question that was nagging at her in the back of the mind.

“There’s others at the bar. Why did you approach me?”

She didn’t remember him from the past. She was hoping no one would remember her.

Striding from the launch bay Korvis entered the bar to the sight of janitors cleaning and various people drinking and having a good time. He felt like he missed something important. It was definitely a hopping spot. There were several people that he recognized and a few more that he did not. Pressing the release on his helmet he removed it and tucked it under his left arm and scanned around for Socorra.

The bar skirmish was short-lived, ultimately resolved by the human woman who was presumably the host of this gathering. Yet despite its brevity, Savran found themselves contemplating how they would have responded had the fight escalated. They had left their weapons with the help, after all, which left them at a severe disadvantage–especially given the fact that they had no intention of advertising their Force-sensitivity to all of these strangers present. Not that it would be anything other than a mundanity to the klatsch of Force-wielders present but old habits tended to die hard.

Thoroughly absorbed in their own thoughts, they didn’t notice that yet another person had inserted themselves into this little group of theirs until they heard mention of the First Order and betrayal. Their slitted, amber eyes shifted to Mikhail, observing him carefully while he and Evelyn spoke. It came as no surprise that his story with the First Order ended the way it did. He was lucky he wasn’t rotting in a prison somewhere.

“Pretty ballsy to so willingly share your history with the First Order,” interjected Savi while watching the Arkanian man, “It’s only been a few years since their defeat. I’m sure there are plenty people who are still sore about being subjugated by a bunch of fascists.”

Savran ran a hand through their feathery mane before taking a seat next to Foxen, looking him over for a second. “How are you holding up?” they asked.

Red eyes didn’t leave the Arkanian and the Wyvern, but a grunt of acknowledgement noted the Tekuani’s recline next to him.

He didn’t let go of the silverware just yet, despite the possible backup, but did switch hands and set his datapad on the floor between himself and the Shani. He typed one-handed without looking, then tapped the screen to indicate reading.

Returning to baseline. Memory triggered response. All clear out front?

<@741417155546841158> “Yes, that man was an anzat,” she said. “They have these weird straw things that come out of their nose and drink people’s cerebral fluids. They especially like force users. They are xaiyna,” she spat out the insult with a scowl. The observation deck was all but deserted. A welcome change from Sinya’ni’s point of view. She stood at the viewport and stared out at the stars.

“Not necessarily. The Force is mysterious, and applies to everyone differently. You might not think you are tapping into the Force, but you may still be on a subconscious level.”

“Definitely” she mused shaking her head, she noticed as he let her hand go and felt a bit self conscious then. “Wow, long time to have a droid. She must be pretty special.” she commented impressed that the little droid had survived such a long time with him. “Hi Lola, pleasure to meet you. Sorry I didn’t notice you before” the lightly blue lagomorph apologized to the little droid with a gentle head bow. “So um…technician you said right? What kind of ships have you worked on?” she asked now that she was steady she felt sheepish again. Walking slowly toward the food that was present. The commotion may have made her crave something sweet to ease her nerves.

Lola beeped in a teasing way which Meero could understand: “ɴᴀʜ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ꜰɪɴᴇ! ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴜʀᴘʀɪꜱᴇᴅ ʜᴇ ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜱɪᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ ʜᴇ’ꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ɢɪʀʟ~”

Meero’s eyes widened as he flushed blue again and gave a slight cough. “She uh, said no worries and that it’s great to meet you too.” Lola then beeped loudly: “ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ꜱᴀɪᴅ!”

As Meero walked with Asani towards the food, he began listing ships he’s worked on before. From the N-1 Starfighters back home to the different freighters on his way to Dajorra. “And what about you?” He asked as he started picking food to put on his plate. “I’d love to hear what you do. Based on your reaction earlier, you definitely have combat experience. So… soldier? Guard?”

“Uh…sort of. I’m…kind of like that. My dad was is? kind of a bounty hunter. And well he taught me safety and how to properly keep myself and others safe.” she said somewhat sheepishly, so distracted by her own shyness she hadn’t noticed he had blushed.

She was grabbing fruit mostly, something sweet to keep her mouth shut, if a bit messy. “How have you managed to keep Lola in such good shape? I can’t imagine it’s been easy.“ she asked interested in the little droid.

“Okay but that doesn’t mean I am- unless you’ve sensed.. something? Or something. I-” Zuza cut off, looking up at him and waiting for the answer from that. Was Anders just guessing?

Cause there was a lotta folk who survived some stupid kist without the Force, she thoroughly doubted she was any different to any of them.

It wouldn’t be a bad thing but it was.. kinda random. For him to just come out with something like that.

“Not so much sensed as seen. I had my suspicions during our mission to Ostara. You practically avoided blaster fire down a narrow hallway with reflexes that could only be described as superhuman. Following that, you used your lightsaber specifically to deflect a set of blaster bolts. Yes, you might have been lucky, but I’m a man that doesn’t believe in coincidences. Luke Skywalker notably began his training at the end of his teen years, and Darth Sidious wasn’t found by Darth Plagueis until he was a young adult, so it’s not unheard of for Force potency to reveal itself later in life.”

Anders coughed into his hand.

“I am thirsty again, however,” he raised a hand towards the bar. “Is it possible to get another drink over here?”

“Really?! That’s amazing! I’m somewhat capable with a blaster but I’m no warrior.” He said sheepishly while grabbing some fruit himself. “And well I found Lola around… twenty years ago and repaired her myself. Besides my sister, Lola’s been my closest friend so I try to keep her well-maintained.”

Meero noticed that Asani’s mouth was slightly messy from eating fruit. He gave a light chuckle and pulled out a handkerchief. “Here you go.”

“I recognized you. And you seemed to be.. fixing something. Thought I might offer help. Though it seems you’re fine.” With a breath he stood, and took a distancing step so he wasn’t lingering over her. There was another reason, but he had no need to share it.

He glanced at Savran, considering her words with concerned eyebrows. “You would be hard pressed to find a people unable to claim past subjugations against them. But you are right, These wounds are.. fresh. It is strange to say but it feels like it just happened, and yet as if it was a lifetime ago.” His eyes drifted from them, examining the room for a decent sitting position. At the moment he simply stood a few feet from Evelyn. “It does not help, that most of those ‘loyal’ to the order knew nothing but service to it, or were forced into it.”

“Oh wow thats a long time for such a cute little droid.” she commented smiling at Lola. “Must be great to have a little friend around.” There seemed to be a gentle tone of worry behind that comment. She was experiencing some strong feelings but this wasn’t the time or place.

“Oh you have a sister? I have two sisters and wouldn’t you know it one of thems run off galavanting like some kind of storybook hero. The others got her face buried in her work all the time so getting a word out of her is a monumental task. You’d be better of shaving a bantha than trying to get her to talk.” she shook her head chuckling a little, happy to munch on fruit and stain her fur a bit. She was never one for manners when it came to enjoying fruit.

Seeing the offered handkerchief she blushed a bit, taking the kerchief in one hand. Asani tried to get rid of as much fruit as she could from her face without straining the kerchief more than necessary. “t-thanks.” Sheepishly holding the kerchief, taking a long look at all of the details on it, from its color to anything important or of note that might be on it.

“Whats your sister like?” she asked looking over to Meero, trying to make conversation now that felt she had blabbed her mouth off.

“Looks like it,” Savran replied, glancing in that direction once again to ensure she hadn’t just made herself a liar. Nope, the coast was still clear. Good. As entertaining as the thought of a bit of combat to accompany drinks seemed, Savi understood that there were too many people here for her to let her guard down that much.

Savi shifted her attention to Mikhail as he replied, allowing a look of recognition to appear on her tattooed visage. “That’s no surprise. A lot has changed in the last six years. Whether you were a soldier, a mercenary, or a bounty hunter, adjusting to ‘normal’ life can be difficult. Especially if that’s all you’ve ever known.”

Savi counted herself lucky that they had had an exceptionally long time to learn how to do so. Now, the transition between civilian life and the life of a soldier was as easy as breathing for her. But it hadn’t always been that way. Returning to some since of normalcy after the Empire’s demise was particularly difficult. They were still recovering from decades of cutting themselves off from the Force to survive.

“Oh.”

Zuza didn’t know how to respond really. It wasn’t like she could deny those things happened. She’d just never thought anything about it…

Once someone came over to take Anders’ order, the Human made her own too. Kicking in or not, she needed one after that revelation. Was it a revelation? Zuza made a note that she’d hopefully remember to go talk to Marick at some point.

“Anzat?” Wenet wasnt family with that kind of people and now that she knew what they did she was glad she wasnt familiar with them.. “oh… I didn’t know that” she said as a shiver went down her spine “probably better if I stay away from that man”

Wenet joined the Twi'lek at the view port. “And this is why I left Kushibah” she said and let out a sigh as she gazed at the stars. “I wanted to see what was out there, beyond the blue skies of my home world.. Not many of my people leave home” she let out a chuckle “it surprised me that I saw two other Kushiban at this party.”

Anders raised a curious brow. “Is something the matter?”

A pressure suddenly bore down on the Arkanian’s shoulders. His eyes floated to the floor and his head hung. He related to those words, and the brought to his mind the echos of an argument he couldn’t forget. “I can accept difficulty there. I can accept the.. change. Or at least how I am different.”

His mouth was held open, on the precipice of speaking. The words seemed to have trouble flowing, so he shut it. His back met the wall, and he slipped down it until he was seated on the floor like the others. His knees came up infront of him, his cane wrapping around his shins as he hangs his arms over his knees.

“What I struggle with… is the others. The change that they see. The stranger wearing the face of their friend.” His hands tremble, but grip his cane all the more tighter.

“That too, I have accepted.” His jaw clenched, face turning to a scowl of disgust as he glared holes into the floor infront him.

Boo hoo, Foxen thought, rejecting the mind’s memory input of Minnow looking at him, tearful, of words, you got worse, more interested in how the Wyvern seemed relieved at answer of past tense loyalties and the Human’s physical retreat and relaxed back to her sewing. He replaced the fork into his sleeve and resumed properly sitting, now that the Kadnikov was placed too against the wall.

It’s a fraking floor party of trauma, great.

“My sister?” He said with a smile. “Well she’s always been the more… outspoken and charismatic of us. She simply adores animals so she stayed home on Naboo and moved to the Lake Country to help Gungan farmers. I honestly think she prefers Kaadu and Shaak over other people.” He chuckled a little.

“Heh sounds familiar. My sister is so incredibly friendly and talkative she’d be able to talk with her mouth shut, shed find a way somehow. Shell memorize birthdays or days if special significance. Shed befriend everyone at this party or even in the galaxy if she could get the chance to.” she chuckled thinking about Sagittas never ending stream of friends.

“So you’re from Naboo?” she asked curios “whats it like over there?” her ears tilting slightly to be better able to listen to what it was Meero might respond.

Vreva moved to a nearby lounge chair and draped herself with legs over the chair arm. She sipped at her drink silently, and observed the exchanges within the lounge. With another stranger in the room she could feel a tension that had not been there before. First Order, huh. More military.

How dull.

“Y'know, I’m always curious what brings folk into the military in the first place. All that hoorah. Creds I get, but I pick my own jobs and nobody talking down to me without something back.”

“No?” Zuza rubbed the back of her neck, the small Human was leant up against the bar, content in her ignoring of the stools set out and around. “I mean it’s not a bad thing, it’s just kinda.. weird? I guess. I never thought about it before. It.. changes things doesn’t it? I know it shouldn’t but…”

She trailed off. It didn’t. But it didn’t change anything in the same way finding out the identity of her mother. It still felt.. weird.

“That’s because you’re smart,” Savi interjected with a chuckle, and gestured for Vreva to take a seat next to her. “Why are you all the way over there? Come. Join the party.”

“Indeed…” Anders swirled the liquid in his glass, forcing himself to take a gulp of the smooth liquid. “It does, but it shouldn’t. Tell me, Lady Zuza, how much do you know about the Force in regards to Chiss?”

“Damn right I am,” Vreva replied with a grin. “But I’m not gonna squat in the sewing circle. I’m fine over here.” She lifted her drink in salute. “My voice carries.”

Vreva’s pad chimed as she received a message.

🦈: Confirm.

“Not everyone has a choice.” The Arkanian spoke, eyes raising to Vevra. He examined her for a while, a clear frown on his face. He slowly rolled the cane between his fingertips again.

“Yes I bet our sisters would be terrific friends.” He laughed while thinking Ali has probably already befriended every single person and animal in Lake Country while he’s been away.

“Oh, you’ve never been? It’s very beautiful. Rolling plains, grassy hills, waterfalls, swamps. I’m sure you’d love it! Although I would advise against going in the water hehe.”

Evelyn tensed when Mikhail had brought up that he recognize her and relaxed when she realized he must meant at the market.

Not at-

Her face returned to the usual expression-less one while she focused on the button.

They can chit chat. She wasn’t interested anyways. Once finished, she inspected her work constantly, as if she wasn’t satisified. Her chest expanded to a long annoyed exhale but her face showed nothing. It looked fine and if she can’t see the mistake that she can’t even spot, then there wasn’t one.

Hopefully.

How much did she had to drink?

Then the banter of the military started. Not her zone. Stood up, she walked over the ones that were sitting on the floor for some reason.

She came to this lounge for peace and quiet. She handed the coat back over the Foxen, ready for him to inspect and possibly, give her a feedback.

Maybe he can see what she missed.

“They would!” she laughed imagining Sagitta being happy as can be to be in Naboo with even more people to talk to and as many animals to befriend as she possibly could. “I know shed like it.”

She managed to finish cleaning her face properly. “No I’ve never been, we live on a ship but mostly travel for Buirs work. We see a lot and stop a lot in a lot of places. This has really been the only time we’ve stuck around for more than a few rotations.” she commented thinking back at their constant moving.

“I think Im good away from water I hate getting my fur wet. But id love to see the waterfalls and grassy hills.” she imagined it’d be quite the sight. The idea sounded nice, a trip away to somewhere peaceful.

Having a look around the party she noticed there were more rooms and areas to explore. “wanna take a look around the ship? maybe we can find a place without the possibility of someone starting another fight” she chuckled. She was starting to relax around him. The idea of going somewhere peaceful seemed tempting to her. A way to escape from the stress of everything that had happened recently.

Zuza was holding her glass, nestling into the palm of her hand and feeling the beads of condensation building against her skin.

“A bit. Nothing good. I met someone who’s dad was in the Ascendancy a long time ago. He was a friend of a friend. Didn’t talk about it much, him and his family used a new name and everything but what he did share was.. awful. His dad managed to escape, afraid for his life. The Ascendancy sees the Force as impure, and if you don’t grow out of it you die or.. well. I’d say the altnerative is almost worse.” She spoke slowly. It had been a long time but the memory had stuck. Zuza looked up at Anders, frowning. Had he also been set for that procedure? Or exiled?

He didn’t like hugs but she wanted to give him one.

“Well, if your uh Buir’s work doesn’t take him there, then maybe you could come along whenever I visit. I’d love to show you around and I know my family would love to meet another Kushiban.” He offered as Lola approached his ear and beeped softly: “ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ~” he swatted her away gently while shushing her.

When Asani asked if he’d like to explore the ship he looked around and noticed the other rooms and areas as well. “Oh! Sure, why not?” Being a fan of starships he wasn’t about to say no to that.

Foxen’s head tipped back as the coat was returned to him. He took it with care, examining the lapels. The buttons were all back in place, the loose threads snipped. He gave an experimental tug, and found them sufficiently resistant.

With a nod, the Nautolan hybrid stood back to his full height and put the coat back on, smoothing down the length and redoing the newly repaired buttons. While going without it was a perfectly acceptable look, and his shirt was fine, he wanted the extra layering right now. Any additional buffer to the world around him.

The massive man gave a satisfied grunt, and looked to the Wyvern once more.

P-E-R-F-E-C-T, he spelled with his fingers, then, thank you.

And as was their old custom for combat, he gave a quarter bow.

Anders lightly scoffed, then tapped the end of his glass with his fingers, shaking his head. “The alternative is a form of death in and of itself. They claim to be purifying, and yet, it’s more like purging. Anyone who survives that procedure is left with mental ailments for the rest of their lives, scorned by the society they are thrown back into for not being able to contribute like the rest. I knew a young girl who was killed by her surgeons on purpose. I overheard their conversation.”

Anders could feel his grip on his glass tightening again, and he took a deep breath before he made the same mistake twice.

“But yes. There are very few Force Sensitive Chiss. In fact, the only other Chiss I’ve met in the Brotherhood that has access to the Force is young Sivall, who I had the pleasure working with on an Envoy Corps mission.”

Anders noticed Zuza giving him a funny look.

“You look like you have questions. Go ahead, ask away. I don’t offer that to just anyone.”

He smirked at his attempt to lighten the mood.

“That’s true,” they concurred with the arkanian, “Both the Empire and the First Order were fond of forced conscription and enslavement. Children plucked from their homes like fruit from a drupaya tree.”

They shook their head, their disdain for the former galactic behemoths ringing clear in their voice.

A flicker of expression, a grimace, flashed over slate and granite features at Savi’s last statement, as if the idea of plucking up children for enslavement struck particularly true in this moment.

Zuza gritted her teeth. Killed for something like that.. how- Kriff. Kriff all of them.

“I’m just glad you got out. It’s- Well. Awful.” Zuza shook her head, “Did you escape or..?”

Evelyn didn’t want to smile at him when there were unknowns around but she does want him to know that she appreciated it when he spelled out perfect.

‘Thank you.’ She returned the quarter bow and took a step back.

Getting out of here sounded great right now.

The group was casually talking about children being used for battle. Ugh. There was other things to talk about. Disgusting. Foxen’s flicker of grimace expression didn’t go unnoticed.

Normally if it was anyone else, they can go shove a cactus up their-

She took few steps back to give him space and air. With Vreva and Savaran so close, she wasn’t sure how he was feeling.

‘O.K.?’

She would’ve verbally asked but they were not alone.

Asani smiled then, an honest smile, something she desperately needed these days. “Id like that very much” . Seeing him swat Lola away gently she chuckled “is she saying something mean?” Asani asked curious as to why the little droid would be saying to merit being hushed.

Finishing her fruit and making sure her face was clean and decent she began leading the way. “Have you ever worked on a ship like this one?” she asked as she began to lead them toward more open spaces and closer to one of the rooms. “If it wasn’t for the fact I worry Ill get in trouble id run around the vents in this thing. Id love to see them.” she commented hinting at her mischievous way of running around ships.

The Nautolan took inventory, if it was still NO or not from earlier, and answered in turn.

So-so, thank you.

Perhaps the weapons check was clearer now. And he could fraking leave.

“I was lucky. Just a forced conscript.” He drummed his fingers on his knee, eyeing the others talking in sign. It wasn’t that it was.. rude. But it felt off. With a breath through his nose he taped his cane against the ground and stood, rolling his neck out.

“Unpleasant memories aside. I believe my day is nearing its end.” He glanced at the door, weighing his options.

Finally a sentiment Foxen could agree with, aside from high quality bladework.

But if he conveyed it now, then the herd mentality may cause all these objects: people to leave in tandem. Which would only, of course, crowd the weapons check again.

Ugh.

So he took his seat on the floor once again, maintaining back to wall.

As she stood at the window, contemplating things and how they were and why they needed to be, Cassandra was unsure of the exact decision she would need to make.

Though she knew it had to be done deliberately, purposefully, it also needed to be right.

The Arkanian’s and Savi’s words soured her cocksure grin. “Right, sorry.”

Her gaze flicked to the commlink screen. Confirm… what? Her brow furrowed.

A sigh escaped her lips as she brushed back her braids. She leaned back against the armrest of her chair. “Didn’t mean to be an ass about it, but yeah there I am. It has been a night.” She knocked back the last of her drink and set the glass on the floor in lieu of walking back to the bar. She’d deal with it later.

Watching the room and easy as hearing the Vreva was – she did speak loudly – Foxen observed her sigh and drink, then lounge back.

Hrm.

Undesired effect.

🦈: Frak being sorry. Lift your head, Best Bitch. 🦈: Need another drink?

“I was scheduled for a procedure. My abilities weren’t waning like they thought they would, and they decided on more… invasive measures.”

BUDD-E nuzzled into Anders’ neck, letting its master know it was there.

“I’m fine, Buddy, honestly. Anyways, I was informed telepathically by my fellow Sky-walkers, which allowed me time to make my escape. Of course, they then pursued me to the escape pods…”

He stopped to allow himself another drink. At least this one was better than the wine…

“O-oh uh nothing important.” He said with an embarrassed smile. “Although someone is looking to get their first memory wipe in twenty years.”

Lola then beeped angrily: “ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʙᴜᴢᴢ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ’ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀꜰʀᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴜꜱᴇ ɪᴛ!”

“Hmm, actually no I’ve never worked on one like this. Sure I’ve helped with ships of a similar size, but never a Minstrel-class Space Yacht.” He commented as Asani was leading them towards another room. “And I very much agree! I would love to go through the vents myself and see every corner of this ship! What kind of armaments it has, what kind of hyperdrive, if they’ve made any modifications…” he paused and cleared his throat, hoping he wasn’t just blabbering or coming off as a huge nerd.

Vreva lounged in the chair, seeking that comfort one only gets when in the most uncomfortable scrunch of a position. She looked to her commlink and smiled softly.

❤️‍🔥: Nah it was my mistake. Let my anger out preemptively. Never like military folks. Too much boot kissing for my tastes. Hate us mercs on principle. Blah.

She considered for a moment before typing again. As she continued to type, she curled protectively around the screen.

❤️‍🔥: I’m good. Tired. Water probably should be the best. Getting old I guess.

“..I’m glad you made it out.” Zuza said firmly, placing a hand on his forearm for a moment, squeezing lightly before ending the contact and sipping her own drink again.

She wouldn’t ask for more. If he wanted to tell that was one thing but she wouldn’t ask.

“I very nearly didn’t.”

Lucky for Zuza, Anders was in a sharing mood today.

“I was scheduled for a procedure to be conducted on the eve of my tenth birthday. I was an oddity, only getting stringer in the Force instead of getting weaker. I frightened them.”

“You were a child.” Zuza shook her head, feeling the room sway slightly and deciding firmly to not do that again. Kriff. He’d only been.. barely about to be ten years old. How could they do that to just a little kid?

She didn’t really have any words other than that, this was a moment to listen. Somehow the Human doubted this was a story told often. Brown eyes peered up at him on occassion, just trying to give him the space to speak without feeling pressured or judged. Just heard.

Anders shrugged “I’m a Chiss, Zuza. We age much faster than Humans in our youths. That procedure, however, is a last resort. It tampers with neurones and electrodes in the brain. It doesn’t actually cut one from the Force. That, in and of itself, is impossible. What it does is ensure that using the Force is next to impossible by reducing one’s mental capacity. Is it inhumane? Absolutely, and I was very nearly subjected to it, if not for the prior warning I received…”

“..Did they make it out too?” She asked softly.

Anders fell silent for a moment. “I… do not know, unfortunately. Once I left the Ascendancy, I never heard from anyone there again. It’s possible she may have lost her connection to the Force, or she had the procedure done to her. I’d like to think she escaped, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t lucky with escaping their clutches. I was trapped in an escape pod for several days without food or water before I was finally found. It gave me a lot of time to consider things.”

Days. Trapped alone with nothing. Zuza shuddered slightly. It was a nightmarish scenario to even consider.

“It wasn’t fair. That you had to do that. Who found you? Was.. it at least better from then?”

“Who found me?” Anders feigned a small laugh. “Who do you think? The Brotherhood found me. A Sith, more specifically. Anything else wasn’t welcome in the Brotherhood at the time.”

Ah yeah. She’d heard about those times. At least he was safe then. Zuza nodded, smiling slightly. And then leaning. Except- wait.

The bar was not where Zuza expected the bar to be, so when she tried to lean on it had instead tipped sideways and fell shoulder first into the metallic surface. At least she caught herself, looking at the bar in mild surprise.

“Oh.”

Anders smiled, shaking his head at her antics. “Perhaps I should continue this story at a later time? It looks like you’ve had enough to drink.”

BUDD-E beeped, acknowledging Anders’ point by taking a recording of Zuza’s near fall.

Zuza flipped BUDD-E the bird.

“‘m fine.” She straightened herself up but looking around… mm. Yeah maybe he was right. The walls had started swaying. “We.. tomorrow. Tomorrow would be good, if we’re flying to the academy we’ll have a bit of time.”

“We shall see…”

Anders didn’t know of he would be up for sharing more. His life was a personal affair, after all. There were few he liked knowing about it.

Still, he was a gentleman, and whilst he was sure Zuza could handle herself just fine, he’d be remiss if he didn’t help her out of the club.

One pierced brow lifted a few millimeters, and Foxen looked over at the female on the couch studiously.

🦈: The fact that they have sob stories of their enlistment, forced or otherwise, is not your fault. Ignorance alleviates blame. Furthermore, us mercs can be equally forced into anything. Level playing field. 🦈: I have equally contracted/soldiered for 24 years standard. Breaks of joining a Mandalorian clan in conscript service to bunch of jediit despots and fascists. Not full military bars, but not just free mercenary; came when called, went where pointed, when needed to, before established self. Mixed bag. 🦈 ‘Getting old.’ Wouldn’t have estimated you over 35-40 standard. Harder to tell on you mammals. Regardless, hydration is superior at any age. Drink fraking water.

Finally Korvis spotted Socorra seated at a table with the Consul of Plagueis. He made his way through the crowded room and stood in front of the table. His towering presence was magnified by the fact everyone else was seated.

”You locked the hanger bays?“ He said with a grin. "But seriously just one drink. War is on the horizon.”

<@141239709291511808>

It turned out that Zuza had no idea where the rooms for remaining over night were, so despite her utter confidence in her wanderings, Anders’ guidance proved to be quite key.

However it would take the small Human quite some time to truly wind down from the alcohol and pass out, so once Anders had assured that she had water and was settled for the night, Zuza spent several hours calling various people to tell them.. something. She couldn’t quite remember but Zig would probably tell her without laughing too much. Probably.