Session export: The Shame Corner: 009

Say what you want about captaining your own corvette, but know this for sure: they be big.

So big, in fact, that they don’t fit in most parking spaces. Like most ports of call. Anything other than shipyards really. Or really big landing pads. Talking really big. Huge. So, quite often, you had to either touch tips with the airlocks or take a shuttle.

Valara opted for the shuttle. That way the Sovereign wasn’t tied down. Just like her.

As she first stepped foot onto the Shame Corner, her long, wavy golden locks bounced and she flit red eyes around her. Chains and jewelry clinked, but nothing touched her. Not really. She slid a long finger around her collar and up her neck, feeling the slick texture of the nearly imperceptible bodysuit covering the majority of her flesh.

Untouchable. Good.

Now…time for her goal. Shopping!

“They really do have everything here…strange.” Koda chuckled to himself, Tracyn mewled from his shoulders.

The Zabrak-Zelteon hybrid next to him approach Rue and looked over them with him, “I think some of these will do just fine, Rue. Don’t fret yourself too much about it, they’re still months out.” She smiled and shook her head, “Your family is quite the handful, Koda.”

“Oh, you have no idea..” Koda let out a sigh with a smile, “But you’ll warm up to the rest. Rue here was our newest member.”

The Herald of Entropy’s engines slowly cooled off as it came to rest on the assigned landing pad. The cargo ramp lowered and a foot clad in a highly-polished black monk brogue made the slightest clatter as it touched down upon it. Striding down the ramp came Alex, his fancy footwear accompanied by a pair of well-fitted black leather slacks, a black button-up shirt with Mandarin collar fully closed, and a pair of black, mirrored aviator sunglasses. Behind him, Steven followed at a measured pace, the droid clad in a cobalt blue brocaded tailcoat and matching bowler hat.

“It’s just so…plain, sir,” the prim and clipped synthesized voice emanated from the entirely passive droid’s faceplate. “Surely you could afford some ostentation? An accent piece?”

“No, Steven,” there was an unusual huskiness to Alex’s voice, “I am the Shadow Scion now and I am sure that means…something. I can only assume there are expectations of my station, and I will accommodate to them!” Thus speaking his resolve, Alex headed off into the aisles of the station, seeking clove cigarettes or perhaps a novelty t-shirt featuring a popular character and a phrase like ‘Normal People Scare Me.’

On the complete opposite end of the hangar pads.

-# “…and just how, through all of my operational review and preparedness, did I overlook both the galley and the fuel reserves? And SO WHAT if the ship is permanently rostered as extreme danger, I know what I am doing and the ship will not explode if docked closer. Though people are nosy and stupid so…”

Still wet from a decontamination shower, Titius began the lengthy trek towards services. The Magistrate was hoping there would be mobile services or at least an authority that could override the landing regulations long enough to take on provisions. But knowing the trust level he inspired…

A lopsided gait had quickly made its way through the station, not stopping at any of the usual places that displayed food, trinkets, or other merchandise. Instead, the step step-tap of a cane made a direct line to the bathrooms. The figure responsible hung their head, their feathered back black hair only maintaining it’s position and not falling into his face due to years of training, and a little product. The man’s pale face was grimaced, reddened, and his other hand held onto his own lapel, almost clutching his chest as he sped walk to the best of his ability.

Mikhail shoulder into the bathroom, normally he would avoid such public spaces due to the horror of filth within them, but he couldn’t help it this time. He slumped over a sink, the hand holding hurt ever tightening chest shifting to the edge of the sink bowl so he wouldn’t fall forward and into it. The Arkanian took rapid, shallow breaths, his bright blue crystal eyes focused downwards past his glasses and into the sink. His face was pained, panicked, his nerves alight with a sensation to run as if he was being hunted.

But he wasn’t.

He was alone, traveling on his own to meet with a particularly sadistic family member. Who he had avoided working with directly for quite some time now. It seemed he was unable to avoid a meeting this time. What had he learned? the thought swirled around in his mind, causing the rapid pounding of his heart, the tight chest, the short breaths, the tears that slipped off his nose to splash into the sink below, where black stained droplets mixed with bubbly remnants of pooled water around the drain - evidence of whoever had been through here last.

Mikhail sucked in air in a gasp that hitched only twice, choking down an audible sob with a clenching of his jaw. The cane clattered against the side of the sink as the metal beaked hook of a handle was set on the edge so it wouldn’t fall. His now free hand ran shakily through his hair, stopping half way to grip at the raven black threads. His body trembled for a moment before froze, then a few dozen heart beats later he sagged with a long exhale as if he was being deflated. The tears had stopped, the breathing was slowly returning to its normal rate, his chest no longer pained him.

But the fear remained.

Mikhail slowly dropped his hand from his hair, now holding both sides of the sink. He glanced up at himself awkwardly, afraid to see what he looked like.

Sure enough, the reddened skin -though faded- was evident of the emotional surge. His cheeks were streaked with black, like tar that had oozed from his eyes. He stared at himself for a few seconds, then tore his gaze away and flicked the sink on. He ran his hands under scalding water, then waved one under a soap dispenser. The burst of music it played as it jettisoned pink goop into his palm gave him a moment pause. This place was strange.

Mikhail washed his hands thoroughly, scrubbing them like they were coated in mud. Only then did he carefully pull his glasses off his face to tuck them away. After a breath, he pulled a small fancy kit from a breast pocket, then cracked it open.

An emergency makeup container.

He spent the next few minutes carefully wiping his cheeks and nose free of the black smudges. Only when he was satisfied he was clean did he begin the process of reapplying the dark marks around his near glowing eyes.

Brelon stepped off the shuttle and ran his fingers through his flame red hair. Plastering his usual, charming grin on his face, he headed out to the market place. Ever the good student, he paid attention to his master when she let slip those rare things she actually like about places. Normally, Rasilvenaira kept such information to herself. So for little nuggets of treasured intel to be allowed to slip, it meant he had better catch them.

Just so was the case of the Shame Corner outpost. Brelon had heard about her first visit here and how she’d found some things she liked. And because he was such a good student, and always needed ways to get himself out of trouble, he wanted to pick up a few things for her.

First stop would be the Jerky and Fudge market, then he’d stop by the bar for the Rum. He just hoped it would all fit in the small, borrowed shuttle. Ah well, he’d make it fit, one way or another.

Titius glowered at the large mound of flesh addressing him. “And what, precisely, does that flag say? Force me to walk the greatest length possible? Figure out some way to get fuel this far out or find me someone who can change the docking permissions.” Commands given, he stalked away dismissively. “This dump better have good coffee.”

Ooooh! So many options!

Valara clicked her tongue, folding her arms across her chest while raising a hand to rest her chin upon a knuckle. She held this pose as she perused the clothing on offer within the Shame Corner. Hm…no, not this one. Definitely not that. “Old-fashioned,” she murmured, flicking between the options. “Too dingy. Dull. Homely…oh! No, frumpish.”

She sighed loudly while trying to find something that matched her aesthetic.

Rolling over in his bunk aboard the Tie Echelon Race took a few moments to get his bearings. His head pounded like a Bantha was running through it. He instinctively checked to make sure his extremities were all still attached.

“How many Gamorrean ales did i drink?” he said aloud to no one. His head pounding more with every word reverberating in his ears. Truth was he had lost count around the fourth one, but he knew he had continued to drink. He turned a little and was at least thankful there wasn’t a Gamorrean in bed with him.

“Now, I gotta go find something to cure this Hangover…. And find out what day it is.”

Leaving the spirits of the slain behind at the Shame Corner had become a structural habit by now. It kept the dreams at bay, the interruptions and demands they made too. The rustle and bustle of this little piece of space gave the ghosts something to cling on, like a reef in the ocean for sea life. Aphotis almost pondered why they did not charge her for it—and as long as it did not create a massive black hole or a wound in the Force she would keep using it.

’Parasites and freeloaders, only the worthy get to accompany me on my path, those who have suffered enough.’

Osasdii’s Scythe touched down without a hitch. Many came to recognize the Raider-II’s distinct shimmering black and blood streaked hull. The most veteran lieutenant lowered the ramp for the tall Sith with a glint in their eyes—the Scythe’s Captain, Zag, was nowhere to be found during this time of the year. Her corvette’s crew was beginning to get a hang of the ship after a good number of successful missions. Of course this meant higher pay and more requests. While fear was a great motivator, the tall woman preferred a loyal company, losing the vessel would be far too costly. Music and drinks seemed to work well to keep them motivated and mingling with them on a more personal basis paid off dividends and it kept the Sith herself level-headed.

Aphotis was styled in her usual fully-covering bodysuit, just with her hair loose and center parted. Simple and effective, but she kept her mask clipped under her backpack, in case she did not feel like breathing in the same air as someone else.

The first step outside already gave her a shiver. She shrugged it off by sharply flicking her tail and carried on.

Titius removed his helmet, chest expanding to sample the myriad of smells within the station. A nostril twitched as a primal urge took hold, triggered by one specific scent: Fresh brewed caf. Eyes went wide as the man sped to the source. It had been days since his last caf intake and the withdrawal was palpable.

The subtle gurgle of the dispenser produced a leering grin on Titius, fingers twitching in excitement. The expression redoubled as he pulled a long swig of the jet black fluid, A slow giggle and sigh slipped out as the stimulant took hold.

Brelon headed over to the largest display of Jerky he had never even imagined. He stood there looking at rack after rack of flavors he hadn’t even heard of. He sighed and shook his head, not sure where to begin finding something his master would like. He glanced around, wondering if there might be someone around that could help him narrow his search down a little bit. <@244244163002892288>

“Hey, Vince!”

An orange-spotted blue scaled face popped into the open engineering hatch with the smell of Xaxe heralding the teenage Rodian’s arrival. Axee Josso crouched above, careful not to let the ripped knees of his pants touch the still to be cleaned dusty floor of the newly purchased refurbished old rig. He wore a dark baggy shirt with the graphic of some Herglic death metal band, a few leather and chain bracelets, and his headphones he was never far from.

The kid jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go grab some food, want anything?”

<@227960499948486666>

Brelon flashed his trademark charming smile and glanced at her name tag. “Yes, I could use some help, please, Paige. I’m trying to pick out some jerky for a close friend. But I’m not certain which ones would be good. All I can think of is nothing too spicey or exotic should work but what would you recommend?”

Titius had now consumed 5 large caf rations and was moving to a 6th. The man clearly had a problem but his credits were good so what was the harm? Except the caf had not been paid for, rather Titius had been refilling the same cup standing beside the dispenser.

The wall of dried meat stretched on with a vastness that defied imagination. The wide swath of possible flavors and colorful packaging bordered on being an assault on the mind and senses. Alex stood, transfixed, as he had for the past seven straight minutes, near-motionless. Were one not able to see the shifting of his eyes behind mirrored lenses as he scanned the options before him, it would not be outside the realm of possibility to believe he had fallen asleep - or even died - locked upright in position.

For his part, Steven had stood patiently by while this occurred. Visible but unobtrusive, the gangly droid in his tailored finery had taken up position to one side of the aisle. Clutched in one hand was the basket filled with a few goods his employer had already selected: a small plush ringtail made in an alternating, slightly misshapen black-and-white ring pattern, a small pot of a generic brand black nail polish, and an audio chip whose cover featured a Rodian leaning hard forward into their microphone with a tuft of black hair grown out and styled downward to cover one eye. None of these had drawn comment from the valet, as it would not be quite proper to do so. If needed, there were ways to make things thoroughly unfindable once they had been brought back to the ship or the estate.

“Steven, my good man,” the man finally broke from his trance-like state and turned to address his companion, “a consultation, if you will? Which do you feel speaks more to ‘a tortured soul burdened with the weight of untold years, yet always seeking the solace of companionship, only to be brutally disappointed again and again’?” He reached out and grabbed two packages, holding them out for display. “Honey chipotle or hickory ranch?”

Both piloting and space travel were never Ellisyn’s jam. It was the exact reason she showed up in a taxi as opposed to a personal vehicle. In her rush, the Firrerreo almost forgot to tip her driver before rushing out of the craft and into the rather popular Shame Corner.

The lawyer weaved her way through aisles, searching for her brother. She knew the man was there, Rue had said as much. That and his ship was in the parking lot.

It didn’t take long to find her somehow taller brother as he managed to tower over most of the shelving units, and as soon as she did, she knew exactly what to do. Her normally light footsteps suddenly became loud and intentional as she stomped her last few steps to Koda, planting herself right in front of him and his apparent baby mama.

“Long time no see, big brother,” Ellisyn said, her voice firm, just as it was in the courtroom.

Koda was casually browsing the shelves as Danitha was deciding between two things that Rue had brought her earlier. As soon as Koda heard the footsteps, the skin on his face tightened as he flexed his ears to ear his sister approach.

“Elly, I eh…was not expecting to see you here.” His normal stoic appearance shifted into that of a mix of fear and discomfort. It wasn’t Elly he was afraid of per say, but her spreading the word to the rest of their family. He was about to get another word in before Danitha perked up and chimed in.

“Elly? As in Ellisyn?” The hybrid looked over the taller woman, “Koda-Bear here doesn’t do you justice. Love the hair by the way.” She smirked and offered her right hand to shake. Her left hand was focused on holding the baby stuffs and her baby-bump. “I’m Danitha, I’m sure you’ve heard about me.” She said with blind confidence. This made Koda grimace and tense up, Dani noticed immediately, “Koda. Wynn. KENDIS!” She snapped at him, it would remind Elly of Angel getting mad at a young Koda, “I am going to be the mother of your child and you didn’t even tell your family?!?!”

Brelon nodded, then moved a bit closer to the left side if the jerky display to see what he could find. “Thank you for your help.” He offered Paige a bright smile before returning his full attention to the jerky racks. He browsed a moment before picking out a few packages of cherry maple and honey barbecue. Then he spotted the Maple hickory. “This should do.” he said to himself.

“No fightin’!” Charoo Vaan, the Kraken’s quartermaster hollered over the din of murmuring, yelling, and often laughing pirates. The blue-skinned Twi'lek’s tone brooked no argument as the crew calmed down around him. “No fightin’, no connin’, no bootleggin’, and especially no cheatin’ at Sabacc, Bors!” He looked over at the large Dowutin pirate who grinned with all of his crooked and broken teeth.

“I hear any bantha piss happening, you’ll talk to Lucy.” He caressed the custom DL-44 blaster on his hip. “Captain wants none of your clownin’ today, so keep it civil an’ proper. Spend your credits, have some fun, and don’t make me come get you, there’s plenty of mates aboard who’d gladly see you working the grease deck while they enjoy some R-an’-R.” At the last remark they hollered in agreement that made Vaan’s lips curl in a smirk. He was probably going to be busy tossing drunken pirates into the sobering cells after all this was over.

Under him thrusters fired and the floor shook as the Kraken rumbled in disagreement — the ship rarely agreed to anything, in fact, its systems being as old as they were. There was a hiss of hydraulics and pressure equalizing as the docking tube extended and the airlocks opened. Morgan walked down the lavish staircase leading to the unloading docks, senior officers in tow: Cheoogouna the Wookiee warmaster, Torve the Pantoran bosun, and Bellamy the Togruta gunner. Torve high fived and fist bumped several of the crew as she followed Morgan who seemed to part the crowd like a ship cutting waves.

Finally the captain turned as she approached Charoo and said, “Cheogouna and Bellamy are staying aboard to make sure everything goes smoothly here.” She gave them a pointed look. Only three fourths of the crew were leaving, the rest were being punished for dissent, larceny aboard the ship, and various other crimes Morgan enforced aboard the Kraken. The duo nodded. Both were the most disciplined of her crew and her officers. They’d keep the peace.

“The rest of you, you better pay for everything you drink, eat, break or piss on or I’ll rip you guts out myself. I like this place.” A shadow seemed to spread from her emphasizing her point. “It stays that way or you don’t. Now head out.” With an uproar of cheering voices the crew disembarked and headed for the bar and diner.

–

“Princess, I do not feel comfortable in this new body you’ve given me.” Tanako protested as she bobbed up and down in the new polyhedral chasis. “Not to mention I can’t protect you like this.”

Orse chuckled as she walked out of the Vesper and into the Shame Corner’s smaller dock. She wore her standard multi-colored jacket with neon lighting, a bodysuit, boots, some gear and the usual 2-1B helmet. Weapons as well, obviously. No sense in leaving them at the door. “Well, it can’t be helped, at least for now. Your old body is scrap. By my count that’s the fourth body in so many years. I’ll have to build it more durable next time, or more agile.”

“That would be refreshing.” Tanako’s tone betrayed annoyance and acceptance of her current situation.

“At least this way you can hear and translate anything I need you to. That little body has some clever engineering in its processor. Clever and expensive to develop. That Envoy sure has a lot of cash behind it.” She looked left and right, her head on a swivel as she entered the station proper only to see groups of ugly-dressed individuals exiting one of the docking tubes and dispersing into the area. By her estimation several dozen. “Great, the Queen Bee is here, and all her soldiers as well.” Orse clicked her tongue loudly in annoyance as she proceeded to the bar. “We better keep our heads and processors down today, Tana. Don’t draw attention to yourself.”

Tired. That was probably the only weird that could describe how the small woman looked. The fine green coat was rumpled, the white shirt beneath looked like it had been slept in (a few times) and the wide-brimmed hat didn’t rest quite flat on her head. The small droid hanging on the back of the jacket watched the world through crystal clear lenses, trilling softly to its owner who seemed to navigate by the sounds made.

“The bar, Pips. We want the bar.” Miho said softly to her companion. “I need a little hair of the dog right now.”

A diaapproving sound came from the droid as the pair continued to navigate. What had happened last night? Night? Day?

It seemed to her that she had lost track of a few days. Ah well. It had been fun and only time would tell when the next fight was going to happen. Quermia, Kiast, someone would need her to fight again.

The smell of familiar smell of spirits in large quantities brought Miho out of her hangover enough to plop herself in an empty stool to wait for the bartender to get to her.

It was time to get well again.

Erinyes was behind the bar.

Well, technically, she was behind behind the bar—in the storeroom, in fact. It had been a while since she’d done a cargo run to the Shame Corner, and she was making up for it by helping to unload the products she’d maybe kind of abused her Council position to “officially” supply to the station.

In her defence, it was good booze. She had a reputation to uphold, after all.

In any case, her physically lifting and stocking the boxes like a pleb normal person was absolutely not an attempt to impress the Amazonian bartender.

“Which of your menu items would work best as something with a reduced alcohol taste? I’ve been working on a little something,” Erinyes asked. To a rational mind, respecting Ira for the professional and subject-matter expert she was was probably a better way to impress her than a vain and ironic attempt to demonstrate one’s own macho-ness, but the Zeltron wasn’t known for being rational where women were concerned.

“You tell me. You’ve tried them all,” Ira smirked.

They both noticed Mihoshi sit at the bar at the same time.

“Miho! Hi!” Erinyes rushed to shelve the case of whatever she was holding, then made a beeline to greet her friend. Her foot, in midair, passed through the doorway to the bar proper.

“Ah-ah!” As though she were scolding a misbehaving puppy, Ira lifted her finger and pointed at Erinyes with a stern glare. “Go around.”

Erinyes stopped cold, sighed, and turned—hopping on one foot—to exit the storeroom into the maintenance corridor.

“That woman,” Ira muttered, then turned to the Keibatsu. “Welcome in, honey. What can I get you?”

<@244244163002892288> <@227653769842655233>

Miho gave a wan smile, not because of the woman’s presence. She liked Erinyes, considered her a friend. She hoped the feeling was reciprocated but you didn’t ask such things. It was offensive.

Did she have to be so…exuberant? Zeltrons and their livers. She sighed softly and laughed a little when Ira ushered her towards the corridor to take the long way ‘round. “Ale, Ira. Doesn’t matter where it’s from. Just a starter to take the edge of last night off.”

Miho pulled a credit ingot from a pocket and began to dance in along the backs of her fingers. It would be better if she could find a card game or two, but drinks would be just fine for now. “It doesn’t even need to be cold this time around.”

<@244244163002892288>

“Now that is acceptable,” Valara finally remarked as she made her way further into the racks. The clothing had finally shifted from “trendy and targetted” to something more akin to “whimsy and fancy”. The Kiffar started collecting various garments and placing them in bags, ensuring they could be scanned quickly when she was finally finished.

There was something calming about getting a good haul. It felt like a reward for her previous successes. Why? Because she had credits…from said successes. The fact she could splurge like this was proof of that.

Finally, she tossed out some chits and lined her arms with the straps of her bags. She looked like some kind of scarecrow. A fashion-crow. Thus, weighed down as she was, Valara began phase two of her questionably phased plan: drinks!

The Human down below in the maintenance shaft startled at his name. He uttered a curse under his breath, then looked up at the Rodian. Vince’s cybernetic blue eyes focused only briefly on AJ before the man returned his attention to the bundle of wires in his hands.

“Sure, uhh, a burger? Deluxe with fries and a cola. Put it on my tab, if they ask for one. I’ll… I’ll come up in a bit, I just… need to rewire this… hmm.” His brow furrowed as he looked over a complicated knot. “Not sure what I was thinking, but I don’t think it was much at all.”

“Yes ma'am. Could you get me a T&T?” Erinyes wouldn’t insult any bartender by drinking from her flask in their establishment, especially not a fiery muscle mommy.

Then, she turned to Miho, grinning. “Sooo… what happened?”

<@227653769842655233>

Miho pocketed the credits and took the mug of ale with a happy sigh and took a long draw of it, uncaring about the froth. Working like a miracle cure with each drink, she seemed to get a bit of color back in her face.

She gave Erinyes a pained look and shook her head. Must be nice having that kind of tolerance. She took another drink before setting the mug down on the counter. “Drinking, cards, dice, I think there was a Mandalorian.”

She squinted at Erinyes, small bloodshot lines around her violet eyes. “Mandalorian?” She sighed and leaned her head down onto the bar, her hat sliding to the back of her head and giving her a nice dark area as she spoke into the counter.

“Then I had to get up stupid early today and be somewhere. Where? I forgot and Pips won’t tell me.” The droid trilled sullenly from her back and made its way clear of the hat prison. “He’s being spiteful for some reason. Like it’s my fault…”

The body language said she was miserable, but her tone was anything but. The headache and the auditory sensitivity would fade, but Miho tried to live to the fullest at all times.

<@645466919415054357> <@244244163002892288>

“Thanks, dear.” Erinyes sipped from the drink, still examining Miho. “And how much did you have?”

<@227653769842655233>

Reiden disembarked from his ship and stretched tired limbs. He had to remember next time that training immediately after a job was probably not the right way to wind down. Of course, he trained often, as was needed to stay at the top of his game, but when things stacked like that, the fatigue did as well. Even so, it was a lesson hopefully learned. He pressed a button on his gauntlet and the ship sealed itself, but not before an ID9 droid came crawling around the door frame and hovered over to perch on his shoulder.

“Curious about the place, are you, Sparks?” he questioned the droid, lightly patting its domed head. “I guess there’s no harm in you tagging along to explore. Just behave, got it?” The droid responded with a happy sounding chirp and trill, bobbing up and down slightly.

Satisfied, Reiden crossed the docks and entered the Shame Corner. All the familiar sights and smells awaited him. The fudge in particular was tempting, as it always was. But he feared if he gave in now, he may not venture further inside. So, better to grab some on the way out, as he often did. Another familiar dilemma came up: caf or something stronger? He weighed the options against how he was feeling. Caf would be nice, but he was leaning toward the bar. A good drink would often hit the spot, especially after being out on any kind of job. And it had the benefit of allowing him to do some people watching, which was usually amusing. In the end, the bar won out, and he pivoted to the right after stepping into the entryway and headed toward the back, where the familiar Seven Sins bar awaited.

The hat moved slightly as she turned her head in Erinyes’ direction. There were a few mumbled words as the cool bar felt amazing on her cheek.

Eventually, she just shrugged. How did one really manage to keep track? She’d stopped counting after the fourth one. Peeking through the sliver of light let in under the brim of her hat, she gestured rather vaguely at her friend in general. “About you much. It was fun but don’t talk so loud.”

Aphotis made her way to the stores first, the curtain of her raven hair leaving a blur of black behind her. There were familiar faces that she strode by and as much as she enjoyed the gazes back at her, there were some that she wished to avoid. The tall woman took a deep breath and steeled herself, somewhat blinding her peripheral view with her hair on purpose. She wondered just how long she could remain unmasked as her claws were itching to reach for it.

Though it took him a moment to recognize her without the mask, Alex quickly spied a familiar form entering the shopping area of the Corner. Even unmasked, it was hard to miss so distinctive a person. He slunk over, his shoulders hunched and a scowl affixed on his face.

“Aphotis, just the sort I was hoping to see!” Even in his present state there were some mannerisms that just could not be balked. “As a fellow ‘denizen of the dark’, I could use some advice. I seek some libation from the bar, but as I am somewhat new to this whole lifestyle I need to know what a suitably brooding and mysterious drink order would be! Perhaps you could offer a suggestion?”

Steven approached silently behind his charge, meeting Aphotis’ eyes and somehow managing to convey a deep exhaustion despite his mechanical nature.

“I do apologize, Mistress, but His Grace seems to find himself in a bit of a mood toda-”

“IT IS NOT A PHASE, STEVEN! THIS IS WHO I AM NOW!”

Meanwhile, in more practical areas.

Ten cups summarily drained down the voracious maw that was Titius and he finally felt human again. Eyes scanned around, seeking out supplies for his next foray. The merc muttered to himself, fighting through the excess of stimulant running through him. “Caf. I need caf. And rations? Wonder what they have that will keep. I should ask…” Expression turned to confusion as Titius sought out someone competent.

“That sounds like something suitable. Thank you for the recommendation!” A smile began to crack his face as his jovial nature tried to bleed through, but was quickly clamped down and the scowl returned.

“I know being around a lot of people does not seem to be your sort of typical ‘thing’ but if you happen to find yourself over in the direction of the bar, I would be happy to treat you to a drink as thanks for your guidance.” He nodded his head toward her and turned away down the aisle. “Come along, Steven. I have a drink to order!”

As he strode away, he could be heard mumbling under his breath, “Serpent-teeth and coal…must be an herbal of some kind? Maybe a dark rum…?”

Morgan arched a brow and recoiled as if struck. Insult or no, she admired the balls on the woman. “Dark Elixir. I’ll accept Whyren’s Reserve as an alternative,” she replied with a smirk.

“Lothal Spicebrew for me, if you have any,” the Pantoran added, breaking the tension. “I’m Torve, by the by. Nice bar you got here.”

“You only have one liver, dear. And it’s as tiny as you are.” Erinyes poked Mihoshi in the shoulder. “You need to work up to it.”

When a bunch of people suddenly arrived, Erinyes returned Morgan’s nod, waved to Reiden, watched the interactions between all the people, and finally grinned at Morgan’s drink order. “You have excellent taste.”

<@232396983854301187> <@244244163002892288> <@690640377262243843>

“About two Gamorreans, mostly by the nose,” Torve replied, taling her drink. “I don’t bench weights, I wrestle pirates and fight in the pits.” There was a blood-chilling cheerfulness to the statement followed by an appropriately chilling grin. Only on close inspection could one notice the old scar tissue long since covered by skin grafts and rejuve treatments. Torve certainly looked her best, but there were hidden disfugurmenets under that skin. She looked over as Morgan took her drink and sauntered towards Erina and Miho. “Captain was serious, by the by. Anyone gives you kriff, you ain’t the only one they’re gonna hear from. And they know it. For some reason she seems to like your establishment. She almost wouldn’t shut up about it on the way…sort of. She mentioned it a few times, and that’s enough for me to know she enjoys it here, let me tell you. That woman doesn’t talk much, but when she does, I pay attention. Anyway, how much do you lift?”

<@244244163002892288>

–

“You think so?” Morgan replied as she enjoyed her whiskey. “I like the softness of it. It’s sweet but gets bitter as it flows down.” She smacked her lips. “Aged. Not my prefered choice, but it’ll do.” She found a spot, took off her coat, hung it and sat down. “Miho, you seem down. What’s the matter?”

<@227653769842655233> <@645466919415054357>

Miho lifted her head enough to show Morgan bloodshot eyes and barely caught her hat before it fell. “Down?”

The word seemed a bit difficult for her so she did the only thing that sounded right and took anther drink. “Everything’s just fine,” she searched her mind for the woman’s name. “Morgan.”

The small droid on her back trilled and whistled at her, the tone causing her to close her eyes in pain. “Everything will get better just as soon as I have a few more of these.”

She sighed and shook her head, the uneasy feeling of her brain sliding out her ears less pronounced but still enough to make her a bit queasy. “And maybe something to soak up the excess. Breakfast after. Maybe.”

Effecting as much prim and proper poise as one could when weighed down by loot, Valara strode up to the bar. When she found a suitable spot, the Kiffar managed to slide the bags off one arm at a time onto the seats on either side of her. Then, humming quietly to herself, she unclasped the pouch at her hip and procured a single glass. She carefully ran a cloth over it, paying special attention to the rim before placing it down on the counter.

Rum time.

Reiden smiled and waved back, deftly catching the flying object, only to realize, with no small amount of panic, that it was one of his security cards. That would have been very bad if he had lost it. He quickly tucked it into a pocket, nodding to Erinyes in return as he approached the bar.

“Thanks, Ira. I was wondering where I put that. The tailrings are fine. Made some calls and pulled some strings, got an animal specialist to give them a once over. They’re cute, but those tiny teeth sure are sharp.”

Alex shuffled up to the bar, doing everything he could to put off an air of brooding and gloom. To anyone familiar with the Mandalorian, the effect was almost entirely comical. It was clearly a practiced display, and not something that came at all naturally to the man. He initially raised his hand to wave to Ira, then clearly reconsidered and simply gave a short, sullen nod toward the bartender.

“I am told that I should ask for a serpent-teeth and coal, as it is appropriate to my status,” he laid a credit chit down on the counter and stared off into the distance.

Meanwhile, toward the entrance of the bar Steven tucked himself away in a convenient alcove near enough to hear and respond to any requests from his principal but far enough away to resist the urge to pummel him about the head and face.

“And your best work is a light pack …” muttered Bril Teg Arga Erinos to himself as he walked, bobbing his head to the rhythm of the music playing through his sleek headsets. The thudding bass, catchy hooks, and aggressive lyrics perfectly set the tone for the mission his cyar'ika had sent him on: to stock up on food, litter, and anything else they needed to help their newest fur-foundling needed to get accustomed to her new environment. Ishi the loth cat was the newest addition to their family, and Minnie had stayed home to ensure that things between her and Femi, their tooka, went smoothly. Neither one of them wanted the two felines to fight each other, after all. Bril only really liked shopping as a family affair, either with Minnie or Foxen, but doing it alone felt so much more difficult than it needed to be. He’d much rather be spending time with them, working on cases, or catching up on the latest literature in his field. But he had to do it; Ishi was more than worth a temporary stint of discomfort.

“… Lost too many soldiers not to play it safe …” he continued in his absentminded recitation of the song’s lyrics while he walked, also thumbing through his datapad to check how many likes his latest xinstagram video had received. He’d really gotten a handle on this ‘internet personality’ thing since Minnie gave his page a much-needed remodeling, much to Foxen’s chagrin. But hey, the people on the holonet enjoyed his content, so who was he to deny them? The latest video of him flying his new jetpack had garnered quite the buzz; sure, he had only uploaded the footage of his final (and only successful) flight test following countless failures, one of which he was pretty sure had given him a concussion, but so what? Sometimes, less was more.

-c-

The smell of hot food pulled the young zabrak’s attention away from his datapad, prompting him to fix his gaze on the entrance of the Golden Griddle Diner sitting enticingly in the distance. “Ooh, I wonder if they have those fried fishcakes we had last time. Those were so frakking good,” he said to himself, deciding in that moment to head there first even before his stomach started rumbling. “I’ll come back later to get Minnie a fresh box once I’m ready to leave.”

Without further delay, he moved toward the diner, the long cloak and tails of his tunic swaying freely with each purposeful footfall.

“Oof, not looking too good.” She passed on a bowl of chips. “Might help a bit. Been there recently myself.” She took another sip and chuckled. She turned to Erinyes, “this her usual habit? Reminds me of my brother last time I saw him.”

<@227653769842655233> <@645466919415054357>

“She’s a party girl. Tries to keep up with me sometimes. It doesn’t usually work out for her.” Erinyes also sipped her drink, and patted Miho’s back. “One time I took her to my distillery and she wanted to sample everything. We had to carry her back to my place after that.”

<@227653769842655233>

Miho eyed the bowl of chips for a moment before pulling it closer like the only piece of driftwood in the ocean. The air definitely helped a little as well as something in her stomach other than a fresh morning ale. Maybe she should switch to wine in the morning. Ale just seemed really heavy.

She looked at Erinyes with a grin and shrugged. “Everything sounded so good and I couldn’t help myself. It all smelled wonderful too.”

In truth, she didn’t remember most of that day too well. There had been a pretty girl (Erinyes), good drinks (too many of them), and good company everywhere they went.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” AJ assured. He’s seen Vincent dismantle and rebuild whole cyberlegs before. Whether or not the human knew ship mechanics, he was pretty sure the man could find a solution to…whatever issue it was. “Right. A Deluxe with fries and Cola. Catch you in a bit.”

With a pat of the durasteel floor paneling, Axee stood and left the service compartment. He slid on a jacket and grabbed his backpack, then threw a couple audio chips in it after a brief debate. Slinging the pack over his shoulder, he exited the ship and crossed through the docking yard to the Shame Corner main complex. Inside he was greeted with the same broad yet uniformed marketed expanse that he had been last month. Instead of squirreling away in the audio chip aisle he was making his way towards the Golden Griddle Diner.

A short time deliberating a meal later, the blue-skinned Rodian teen settled into a booth to wait for his number to be called. He leaned back into the cushion, slid his headphones on, and hit the play on his datapad.

“I’m sure he hasn’t,” Ellisyn said with a bit of a chuckle and a much softer tone. She extended her hand to Danitha to shake it. The lawyer was about to comment on how Koda had never mentioned her but was cut off as Danitha realized all on her own. It seemed Elly wasn’t the only one frustrated with Koda’s antics. The Firrerreo couldn’t help but smirk as her older brother was chastised in the middle of the store, recognizing immediately why Koda liked the woman.

“I think you summed it up about as well as I could,” Elly remarked on Danitha’s passionate outburst. “You just got back into the clan and already you’re trying to get kicked out?”

“It never came up in conversation! It’s not like I call that much!” Koda tried to defend himself. He let out a little bit of a yelp as Danitha reached up and pulled him down by his ear. Tracyn lept to Danitha shoulders off of Koda’s.

“And?! You don’t think I’m important enough to tell your family about? About our kid that’s on the way? Or just to gossip you found someone?”

“I was waiting for a moment to announce it in person…like now.” Koda tried to appeal to her.

Danitha sighed, “Some days I wish you had more brains than your braun. You’re lucky you’re cute. I’ll find a way for you to make it up to me.” Dani let him go. Koda rubbed his now red ear. “Koda has at least done the courtesy to talk about you Miss Ellisyn and your little ones. Rue has also talked about you a fair amount.” Danitha scratched Tracyns chin, who purred.

“You should spend more time with Turel and Alethia, they’ll help you out with tolerance.” Morgan chuckled and shook her head before turning to Erinyes again. “A distillery? Do tell.”

<@227653769842655233> <@645466919415054357>

“It started as a semi-retirement project while I was in Taldryan. Consul’s Choice tsiraki was my first, but the one that’s really taken off is our Corellian-style whiskey, Dark Elixir.” Erinyes winked at Morgan over the rim of her glass.

“Since our last meeting, I started working on a rum. That one should be ready for taste-testing shortly.”

<@227653769842655233>

“This is yours?!” Morgan showed her glass pointedly and gave a nod of approval, then her smile turned mischievous. “So the rumors about it…?” She left the ending vague, implying more than suggesting.

“If they were true, confirming them would be a PR disaster. Better to let people wonder.” Not that Erinyes hadn’t flat-out confirmed the rumour before, but it was a different matter to be seen doing so in public when the company’s strategy was to deny it. “I’m sure you know all about the power of a dark and mysterious reputation.”

“Maybe that’s why I prefer it to Whyren’s Reserve.” She downed the glass and ordered another. The drink burned her throat and stomach so much she inhaled a deep breath as she enjoyed the sensation. The heat took its toll as well, making her roll the sleeves on her turtleneck shirt, revealing the artistry of her tattoos. She looked at both Miho and Erin. “Tell me about the distillery, or maybe tell me the story about how Miho handled your distillery. Should be an interesting story, and I’m curious.”

“It’s one part of an agricultural district on Kasiya. We have enough farmland to cover the grain for our mashes, plus orchards and vineyards for the fruits. It’s a wonderful little resort destination.”

“As for Miho… she and her big brother stopped by for a miniature family getaway. She looked at the offerings menu and said ‘yes’. I may have encouraged her,” Erinyes admitted. “I take it as a compliment that she powered through them all, but she really needs either the Force or a lot more body weight before she can keep up with Muz and I. She spent the whole next day not being able to think about alcohol without going bluh, didn’t you?” She poked Miho’s arm again.

<@227653769842655233>

“Mister dark, spooky, and undead is you brother?!” Morgan asked Miho, nearly dropping her drink.

<@227653769842655233>

The whole comversation had passed over Miho’s hungover head while she nursed her mug of ale and small bowl of chips happily. She grunted when Erinyes piked her in the side and looked at her with a grin.

“That’s true enough, but it was still a lot of fun. Getting used to the wobbles was fun. Besides, I missed my brother and celebrations are for letting loose.”

At Morgan’s disbelief, she turned violet eyes to the pirate and pointed at her face. “You couldn’t tell? It had been a while since we saw each other. A long while apparently.”

She took a sip of her drink. “Before we ran into each other at that festival, the last time we saw each other was on K'hamar'a.”

Twenty five years or so was just a blink for her. The added benefit of being stuck in a freezer like someone’s leftovers she supposed. There had been a lot of catching up in the archives when she had realized how much time had actually passed.

She raised an eyebrow after a moment. “Spooky? I’ve never found him to be spooky…”

<@645466919415054357> <@690640377262243843>

After ordering a box of fishcakes, Bril moved hung around the serving counter for a second while briefly tapping into the Force. Known colloquially amongst his people as the Whispering Flame, it revealed the things others preferred to keep secret. He wondered, then, if his dedication to honing his abilities as a Force Sleuth would pay dividends in his attempt to uncover more about the mysterious proprietors of the Shame Corner. Each soul presently occupying the station shone within the dark expanse of his mind eye. Most were lambent, but a few of them were radiant like tiny suns; he recognized a few of them, some good friends and others enemies, yet none of them resembled the trio whom he’d met during his first visit to the galactic waystation. Curious.

Once one of the diner staff came by again, Bril raised his hand to get their attention. “Excuse me,” he began, “Do you know where Ira is right now? Or any of the owners, to be honest.”

<@244244163002892288>

“Yeah, because you know him as Big Bro. Most of the rest of us know him as the Planet-Eating Grand Master Lord of the Krath. He creeped the kriff out of me when I first worked for him. That changed when I got to know him as a person, though. Now he only creeps me out sometimes,” she joked.

“Anyway, we fixed her up easy enough. I know a few things about dealing with hangovers.” Unfortunately for Mihoshi, Erinyes’ Force Healing came in the form of “compress the disorder so it ran its course in seconds instead of hours”. It worked, but it meant a spectacular amount of suffering in the meantime.

“How about it, Morgan? Think you’re up for the Kasiya Estates Challenge?”

<@690640377262243843>

“It’s mostly the eyes that creep me out,” Morgan replied to Miho before turning to Erinyes. “ Kasiya Estates Challenge. Sounds ominous, and going by Miho’s experience, dangerous.” She chuckled in amusement. “I’d accept, but I’d need to know more about it.”

“Try one of everything with no cheating, show up before noon the next day, and win a prize. The prize depends on what you’re looking for from the experience.” Erinyes knocked back the rest of her T&T, engaging her powers of hypnotism on Morgan as she did, and waved to Ira for another—and a glass of water for Miho.

“You seem like the type who would find a mountain resort more stifling than relaxing, but I promise the booze is good. I don’t sell anything I wouldn’t wholeheartedly endorse.”

<@244244163002892288> <@227653769842655233>

Bril nodded. “If it isn’t too much trouble, yeah,” he said in response to Ray’s question about Avalon, “how have you been, by the way? Family doing okay?”

Bril did his best to not appear startled by Avalon’s sudden appearance. For someone whose use of his Force sense was more akin to breathing, he did not like suddenly feeling blind in the Force to her.

“Oh–Hey,” he stammered, “Nope, no more bomb threats. We apprehended him eventually.”

There was a pause as Bril contemplated what to say next. “Soooo, how goes business? Seems like a lot more traffic since the last time I came.”

Trailing not far behind them was a saffron-skinned Shani whose mane, resplendent with cinnamon, scarlet, lime, and canary-yellow feathers, flowed behind them with every silent step they took in their young protege’s direction.

“Got lost in a supply closet, huh?” Savi called after them, taking little care to hide the amusement in their voice.

“Glad to hear things are running smoothly,” he replied, “And the day is going well, so far. Picking up things for Minnie – my partner – and our new loth kitten, Ishi.”

He paused for a moment to tap the display on one of his beskar vambraces, pulling up a holoimage in full color of both him and a vibrant yellow nautolan posing with two kittens, one a fully white loth cat, and the other a white and black tooka. Minnir had insisted on taking pictures as soon as they arrived home from the pet fair, and he’d obliged of course. “We felt like Femi, this one here, needed a sister, so. I’m on daddy duty today.”

<@244244163002892288>

Bril blinked. “Oh. Sorry. I’m not actually here on a business call,” he admitted, “just here to chat, if that’s okay.”

Perceptive eyes swept the room, watching everything around him. Reiden hadn’t been here when it was this crowded before. Ira was keeping busy. He already knew that she knew what she was doing, but this just further proved the point. Her movements appeared well practiced as she attended to each patron in turn.

A small figure caught his attention next. He was sure it was Miho, but her back was to him. And the one beside her was also familiar from the last time he had passed through. He racked his brain and realized it was the former Deputy Grand Master. Although they had never met, and she looked different from the image he had seen all those years ago, he was fairly certain it was her. He couldn’t help but smile to himself at the situation. The current Emissary, the former Deputy Grand Master, and the former Grand Master’s sister all together at a bar. It almost seemed like the set-up for some kind of joke, though he wasn’t sure what the punchline might be. He was willing to bet that there were only a few places where such people could gather.

He flagged down Ira for a glass of Dark Elixir when she had a moment and smiled when she passed it over. Not wanting to be rude, he next made his way over to the trio at the bar.

“I thought I spotted some familiar faces when I came in,” he remarked. “It’s good to see you again, Erinyes, Miho.” <@645466919415054357> <@227653769842655233>

“Heya, Reiden. Good to see you. Have you met Morgan?”

<@227653769842655233> <@690640377262243843>

<@244244163002892288>

Movement in his peripheral quickly drew the young man’s attention. His eyes darted up from his datapad to fix on the unfamiliar Rodian sitting across from him before clocking past her to the surrounding restaurant. Axee exhaled and leaned back into the booth, his hand reaching up and pulling his headphones back down around his neck. It lingered there on one of the cushioned muffs as he seemed to weigh this unexpected encounter.

“Uh…hi. This?” he lifted the headgear slightly, checking he had heard correctly. “Headphones. For listening to things, like on a datapad…”

The question was odd, but he humored it and followed the basic code of ✨ social interaction✨. Every teen he ever encountered knew what that was and had their own devices, legally or not. He turned his own pad around as an example, the screen blinking while the track switched and the art of a screaming womprat appeared. A faint rumbling pound of drums and snappy synth drifted from the tech accessory, barely noticeable above the din of spaceship coming and going outside.

“You…have a bit of,” AJ gestured at his own lips, attempting to point out the sauce on hers. Or at least he hoped it was sauce. In fact, while he grabbed a napkin to hold out to the girl, he started to take a closer look over her –

“–Got lost in a supply closet, huh?”

The orange-spotted turquoise Rodian glanced away from his pale kin towards the voice and froze. His assessment of the other Rodian and the fiber napkin now stuck in a death grip of his fingers forgotten. Before him was a visage he remembered all too well. That mane of vibrant and earthy colors was straight from the holos.

The unmistakable Besaade who’s haunting soulful melodies with their soft lilting to growling deep emotions had hit like a speeder truck in the best way possible.

Keep cool.

Inhaling, Axee jutted his chin out in greeting and gave a simple, short wave –

“Hey.”

. – With the hand currently clutching the napkin between two fingers like a micro flag or heralding a service staff with the receipt.

…smooth.

<@244244163002892288>

Morgan snapped out of Erin’s hypnosis and looked around. “Sorry, what?”

Erinyes grinned. She knew that look. She’d had it enough times herself.

“This is Reiden,” she repeated, gesturing to the new arrival. “He’s a friend of mine and Miho’s.”

<@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187>

He shook his head. “Can’t say I have, although there are always rumors and stories, but who knows how much of that is fact or fiction. It’s nice to meet you,” he said, looking at the tattooed woman. <@690640377262243843>

Miho raised a hand in greeting as she looked at the glass of water that was set down before her. With a sigh, she picked it up and took a drink. “Hey, Reiden. Have a seat, get a drink.”

<@645466919415054357> <@690640377262243843> <@232396983854301187>

“I’m already on it.” He smiled, raising his glass to her. Closer now, he was able to get a better look at her. He hadn’t seen her in a state like that before, but thought better about making any sort of comment about it. Instead, he caught sight of the mug she had. “It looks like you’ve beaten me to it.”

“Pleasure.” Morgan replied simply as she nodded to Reiden. “Dear Miho has had a bad day…maybe even a bad week and a bad year. We’re tyring to talk her ears off while she recovers. I guess fight fire with fire is the plan she’s going with.”

Finally, the Arkanian finished touching up his makeup. It had taken longer than he wanted, as the odd stray tear would require him to pause and repeat efforts. Inefficient. Mikhail would have preferred it if he did not feel such things.

His thoughts wandered then as he exited the bathroom, cane in hand. Crystal eyes unfocused as he walked, not seeing the station before him. Instead he wander the stark halls of the prison he was more familiar with than he’d have liked. He walked a path denoted by a dark blue line that ran through the center of the tiled floor. It always reminded him the veins that ran through his arms. He followed it as it turned down another hall, then swung into a room. He stopped at the entry way so he could peer into it at a large machine outfitted with restraints. His grip on his cane tightened, and he leaned against the entryway with a soft thump.

His eyes finally refocused upon the bar in front of him, and the collection of people around. There were more than he wanted, so he hesitated and considered where he might fit

Bril

Bril lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. It was an attempt to assuage the mounting discomfort with the increasingly awkward encounter. “My apologies,” he began, “I probably should have told Ray that this wasn’t a business call. And if you need to get back to it, I won’t hold you hostage or anything, it’s just …,” he paused to search for the appropriate words. Foxen’s suggestion to “just ask” flashed in his mind, causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose. Fine.

“I just want to know more about you,” he admitted, “and the others. I know you three have taken care to remain private, which I respect. And I shouldn’t have approached you the way I did last time. It’s not often that I encounter someone, let alone three people, who feel like that in the Force, you know?” He spoke with a quieter voice, now, and even considered asking if they could speak via telepathy, but he figured Avalon likely would decline for the very reason he’d just stated.

“I can keep a secret, Avalon. I just have to know … who are you?”

Savi

Although Savi had only intended to give the mischievous Connie a hard time, as they often did to one another, it appeared they’d attracted the attention of another. Nervousness rippled through the Force in waves, causing a slender, forked tongue to instinctually pass through their onyx-tattooed lipsto “taste the air”, as it were. The teen’s anxiety had a faint metallic taste, but was mostly sour like hanava fruit. Now, what could have caused that?

Turning their head to see what the fuss was about, the Shani’s slitted eyes settled on a rodian who was doing his best to project confidence. At first, they didn’t understand why he was reacting that way, until Savi made the connection between the headphones and the look of starstruck recognition in his eyes. He was a fan.

Savi’s lips pulled into a grin that showed off a pair of long, needle-esque fangs. They’d ran into fans of their work before, but because of the nicheness of their songs, it was always a pleasant surprise when someone recognized them.

“Would you like a picture?” they asked.

Savi briefly looked to where Connie was … being Connie, and tilted their head. “Don’t worry, I won’t be here long. Not trying to ruin the kids’ fun. Just came to pick up a bottle of wine or two, and then I’ll be off.”

“I’d patch her up, but the last time was… explosive. And the last thing we need in here is Ira’s ire,” Erinyes quipped.

“Anyway. Morgan, how does that challenge sound?” The Zeltron was getting a little distracted herself, what with the arms and abs and so on.

<@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187>

“I’m all for it,” the tattooed human replied, but added loudly, “as long as I can bring my crew and they can drink your cellars dry.” A loud cheer burst out of every pirate’s throat in the bar. The station nearly shook as the clamor, hoots and whistles echoed even overo the diner and the shops. She turned back to Erin. “Should be a fun raid.” Morgan winked but turned to their newcomer. “So, mister Karr, we have a tradition on our ship: newcomers tell stories so we can get to know them, though I’ll be fair and say I’ll go first if you’d prefer. I’d like to know how do you met Miho and Erinyes.”

<@232396983854301187> <@227653769842655233>

He looked to the woman and smiled. “not a bad way to go about things. I don’t mind sharing.” He took a sip of his drink before starting, “I met Erinyes almost a year ago now. She had put together a festival on Arx that I decided to check out. I’d also heard rumors about her distillery and was curious about what it offered, so I left that day with a small order of her whiskey. As for Miho, it’s not quite as clear cut. I saw her at another festival in the fall. We actually met here at the beginning of the year, and that was when I realized I’d seen her at that festival, and also on a couple other trips here, but only in passing.”

“Okay, well when you put it like that, it makes it sound a lot more trivial than it is for me,” he replied, “this is more like a final appeal to learn something that the Force is urging me toward. For what reason, I don’t know. You might know more than I do.”

“For some reason, yes,” he admitted, “As a general rule, I tend to be much more invested in what it has to say about the past than what it does about my future, but when the threads of the Force start to hum as loudly as they have been as they have been, I stop and listen.”

<@244244163002892288>

He shook his head. “No, nothing about your employees,” he replied, “And it’s hard to make sense of what I have seen. Only glimpses of these colossal machines, far larger than anything I’ve ever seen before. A dagger with engravings in a language I’ve never seen before. Figures that appear as only silhouettes, but they feel … well, like you and others.”

“Those are some interesting bullet points, but let me tell you how we tell a story. Specifically about how I met Erinyes, and hopefully you’ll open up some more,” she winked playfully but overall with good intent. “As usual it starts with a girl. Pretty one, too. Nice curves, steel body, powerful engines, enough firepower to level a city. Got her in mint condition from one of Thane’s dealers. Called her Irae,” she gave the busy bartender an interested look as she said it, the coincidence not lost on her.

“Anyway, I take the Irae for a spin and end up on Dandoran in Hutt space, in the Garganta Galleria casino hotel. Beutiful venue run by the Hutts. I know the brother of the owner so, naturally, I have an invitation. Just the one, though, no escort or crew. So I bring the city destroying ship as a message. It’s not lost on my patrons either. We get along well.” She took a sip of her whiskey to wet her throat and continued. “I’m in a gold Kiasti dress, brand new Coruscanti shoes, shiny new bag… I’m having a great time with the roulette tables waiting on the main event — a sabacc game with high stakes which I am there for. We sit down, it’s getting friendlier, drunker, and credits start flying out. It lasts for all of ten minutes as I see this drukker across the table. Victrix, Vigo of the Black Sun. Pretentious name he made up for himself. Bet he’s regretting it now.” She downed her drink and ordered another.

“Anyway, drukker knows me, knows I used to work for them, knows I hate them, and knows I’m a decent prize if he can get me. But he can’t do that in the Casino. It’s impolite, and it’s generally neutral territory and he isn’t very liked, being Black Sun. Sabacc ends, I went out with more than I went in, and just as I was heading out Victrix catches up, him and his entourage. Firefight starts up on the landing pads, but I manage to get to my ship in time and fly off. Apparently he had half-a-squadron stashed behind the planet.” She took a new glass of whiskey and drank.

“As you can imagine, I manage to get away. Wrecked one of them, damaged a few, but my ship is a wreck and I’m limping through hyperspace on backup. I end up here, on the Shame Corner, in the middle of nowhere, pissed and bothered by the day’s events. No comms to speak of, and to make it worse I dropped some of my credits in the fight on the pad. And I break my brand new Coruscanti shoes and rip my brand new Kiasti dress. These guys seem to be running a charity so I start drinking, taking advantage, as you do. Then Thane shows up out of nowhere, we have a chat and he introduces drunk old me to Erin and Rasilvenaira. I think, but I don’t recall right, that you two were there too.” She pointed at Reiden and Miho in turn. “I was out of it for a lot of that. As far as I can tell my crew came to pick me up. How, why, when? No idea. I just remember waking up on the Kraken with an invoice for the Irae as long as my bed. We didn’t fix her. She was scrap. Shame.” She shrugged and drank once again.

“That’s why I decided to return here and give these good folks some business.” She raised a glass. “That is how you tell a story. Who’s next?”

<@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187> <@645466919415054357>

“I’ll need a heads-up before you visit, then, Morgan. We do have to have some stock to ship offworld.” Erinyes grinned. Pirates were a fun bunch. “I’ll go next. Morgan hasn’t heard the story of how I found out Mihoshi and Muz are related, and for all I know, Miho doesn’t remember it.” She signalled Ira for another drink; for this story, she’d need it.

“So, we were at the autumn festival on Arx. I was tending bar, hanging out with some of the Arconans who had volunteered to help. Great bunch. Miho was sitting at the bar, and we were chatting, flirting, that kind of thing. You know, being gal pals. I was getting ideas, but the night was young.”

“I sensed Muz when he showed up at the festival, because it’s not like he’s subtle unless he’s really going out of his way to hide, and we’ve worked together for long enough that I can recognise him pretty easily. He came over to the bar. Miho and I were still chatting. Muz shows up, starts to say hi to me, then sees Miho and just stops. Like, he looked more shocked than most people are when you tell them he ate a planet. Never seen him like that before in my life.”

“I can’t remember if Muz greeted Miho by name, or if she recognised him, or was just being polite when I said hi, but they see each other and start staring,” Erinyes continued. “You know, the way people only do when they’re long-lost somethings and either really love each other or really hate each other. So I’m like, ‘oh kriff, I don’t know what Muz is gonna do and it’s my ass on the line with Dacien if kark pops off, I’d better step in somehow before things get really wild’.” She paused and raised her drink gratefully to Ira, then took a pull. Mmm, liquid courage. “So, with an emotionally turbulent Grand Master in front of me and an entire festival full of people in the firing line, I say the first thing that pops into my head: ‘Hey, Muz! I was just about to bang your sister!’.”

<@244244163002892288> <@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187>

Erinyes grinned. “I’ve never seen a bar clear out that fast. I’m pretty sure Muz didn’t hear me, though, or I wouldn’t be telling this story.”

“Respectively, I am an expert in these kinds of things,” he replied coolly, though there was a brief spike in emotion that emanated from his mind into the Force. Apparently, being considered incapable in his line of work was somewhat of a sensitive subject. “None of the resources at my disposal, Jax included, have been of any help in identifying the dagger’s origins.

"And maybe. They did feel of the Dark Side. But that doesn’t explain the figures.”

He watched her closelt, quietly noting to himself seemed to dissipate when the possibility of her staff being involved in all this was ruled out.

Miho grinned and settled her chin in one hand as she looked at Erinyes. “I had actually forgotten you said that.” She sipped at the water and made a face before setting it back down. “In his defense, it’s only really been a few years since I had seen him last. He looks the same.” A look of sadness crossed her eyes for a moment, there and gone again. “For him, he has had more than twenty years to deal with the loss. I imagine seeing a ghost who looks almost completely the same was a but jarring for him as well.”

In truth, it had been a shock to her to find him still alive as well. The attack on that planet had been disastrous and not just for her family.

Family was complicated enough without a ghost being found where you didn’t expect it.

<@690640377262243843> <@232396983854301187>

“Oh, uh, sure.” AJ ran his suctioned cup fingers through the thick crop of blue spikes on his head, cracking a surprised but elated smile. The napkin dropped hotter than a space potato onto the table. Busy pulling up the holocam app on his datapad, he missed the mocking mutter that was possibly directed towards them from the other Rodian before looking up at them.

“Do you mind–” his question arrested in a swift pause as he noticed Ray standing there, inquiring on possible service. Axee cleared his throat, gaze shifting from the server to the napkin and back. “Nah man, sorry, I’m good…”

His light amber eyes shifted once more back to his kin across from him, noting the raised tense shoulders and body language gearing towards getting the kark out of here. A whole vibe shift from the curiosity she showed moments ago. Why? He didn’t know but something of concern rose to mind. His gaze narrowing slightly as he backtracked, recalling that Besaade had addressed her. It had seemed positive in nature, but…maybe best she had company.

“Hey, wait. I didn’t catch your name, do you want something? I can pay. I’m AJ by the way,” he offered, giving a small smile to the other teen. Also the Shani, though that was more apologetic and asking for a minute. What? He did still want a picture, photo evidence to prove he met them.

<@1056685516441006091>

Bril paused for a moment, considering her questions. They were good ones, ones he was trained to ask himself constantly when investigating.

“Do you remember how it felt when you used the Force for the first time?” he asked her.

Reiden listened to Morgan as she told her story. The dress sounded familiar and he was about to ask about it when she got to the point of stopping at the Shame Corner and running into Thane, Erinyes, and Ras. He had indeed been here for that. And much like the three women today, that gathering had also seemed like the set up to a joke of some kind, or maybe a conspiracy theory? Rumors were rampant within Brotherhood space, at times.

Then came Erinyes talking about the festival. He sipped from his glass and nearly choked on whiskey when she repeated the line he had overheard that day. It amazed him that nothing ever came of it, but he reasoned that perhaps she did things like that often. Or maybe Muz hadn’t believed her or didn’t hear her, as she guessed herself. The only reason he was at the bar after that was because he hadn’t gotten there yet and was intrigued by the menu he had seen to pass up the opportunity.

Miho’s words, on the other hand, surprised him. It took him a moment to piece it together, but he assumed there was some kind of stasis involved for the timing to differ that greatly between two people. A pang of sadness ran through him. He couldn’t even imagine what that kind of reunion must feel like. He didn’t remember much about his extended family and didn’t stay in touch while he was in hiding after his parents were killed, not wanting to endanger them at the time. The closest he had was when he was kidnapped and held captive for a couple weeks, not knowing if he’d get out, and then his friend finally found him once he had gotten free. But that wasn’t quite the same thing.

He sipped his drink again. “That explains the big hug I remember seeing at the festival. It was quite the juxtaposition seeing the fearsome former Grand Master being…just a normal person. Or, you know, at least as normal as a Sith Lord could get.” <@690640377262243843> <@645466919415054357>

Savran placed a hand on their hip while watching the “rodian” fiddle with the datapad. They really needed to spend more time getting them up to date with modern technology. As much as the clawdite enjoyed poking fun at them for their advanced age, their ineptitude with technology was downright geriatric. The irony brought a smirk to their tattooed visage while they wsited.

<@244244400488710155> <@244244163002892288>

He remained quiet for a moment while processing her response. She must have been pretty old to speak of it in those terms.

“I remember mine. It was exhilarating. Euphoric, even. But also terrifying. Like being thrown into rapids before you know how to swim. It’s a sensation I’ll never forget, and one I would be able to recognize again if I experienced it.

That brief glimpse of your power in the Force was like that, yet even more salient. Point is, it’s not an experience that’s easy to just conjure up either due to a faulty memory or, ego, as you suggest.”

Not that his own aggrandizement had anything to do with his decision to become a Sentinel in the first place. There were far easier, far more rewarding ways to make a name for himself.

The crew simmered down, all shutting up to stare at their captain as the ‘upstart’ bartender dared to order them around. Morgen smirked at Ira’s forceful display, more than happy to have her back. “The hell’re you all lookin’ at me for? You heard the lady, this is her house.” She promptly pulled out a cigarette, flicked it into her mouth and lit it, turning back to her conversation.

“So you were frozen or something? Like in carbonite? How’s that?” she asked Miho directly as she ordered another bowl of chips, more for herself.

<@227653769842655233>

He shook his head. “Like you said, I don’t know you. Based on how you speak, you’ve clearly lived for a long time. Who’s to say you haven’t done plenty in your time?

"And that doesn’t even mean that you have to influence the galaxy on a grand scale. I see that now. I was projecting my own insecurity about not being able to do more to keep my loved ones safe, my planet and system safe. I understand now that the path the Whispering Flame beckons each of us to follow is unique. It was presumptious of me to imply that what you do here isn’t making a difference somehow.”

Bril, upon sensing the wave of fear-inducing power, gave Avalon a look while pointing in Ira’s general direction. “That was Ira, wasn’t it?” he asked with a boyish grin, “I told you I could tell.”

AJ blinked, not expecting the pad being taken from him at the moment but he nods and went along. He leaned across the table and pointed at the button. “Just push this symbol when ready to take the pic. And if it looks blurry,” one blue finger touched the screen currently reflecting Savi standing with her hand on her hip, details suddenly became clearer and the inside lighting balanced, “tap it and it’ll focus on what you are capturing, eh?”

Waiting a moment for her confirmation, he then moved to stand beside Savi with only a minor visible hint of nerves, the tug of a slight smile an indicator of restrained excitement.

“It counts,” he insisted with a chuckle, “Would hate to see any of you when you’re really upset, then.”

It was both a relief and surprising that someone as powerful and presumably ancient as her still seemed so … normal. Well, perhaps that wasn’t the right word to use; relatable seemed better. His crystal blue eyes drifted to the cup that she’d placed aside, then back up to meet her gaze once he was ready to answer her question.

“Yes. One of a few, really. It’s like a fire burning brightly in the darkness, revealing truth to those brave enough to gaze into it. For my tribe back on Iridonia, the flame signifies hope, safety. But it’s also raw and intense. It can burn or even consume you if you don’t respect its power.”

A moment or two passed before he shook his head. “Something about me telling you this seems … silly.”

After a few picks were taken, Savi turned to regard AJ. “I’m sure your friend here wouldn’t mind a picture, as well,” they said, “Do you mind taking a picture of us together?”

<@244244163002892288> <@244244400488710155>

Reiden raised a brow as Ira hopped up onto the bar and shouted at the pirates. It was an impressive display in itself, a commanding presence and booming voice. Then a slight chill ran through him as he felt the Force ripple outward. It was rare that he had felt such power.

Once again, I’m reminded not to get on her bad side, he mused silently.

He took note of the women entering from behind the bar. It was good that she had called in some support. Too many patrons and not enough employees - that was something he had seen go south quickly more than a few times before. Once Ira was back behind the bar, he saluted her by raising his glass into the air before turning his attention back to the conversation at hand.

Miho turned towards Morgan, a mischievous look in her eye. “Being frozen? Imagine going to sleep tonight and waking up in twenty years.” Her grin wobbled a bit before disappearing entirely. “You still dream, or at least I did. Dreams and nightmares you never wake from.”

She took a drink of water and sighed, ordering a glass of whiskey. “The one who captured me on K'hamar'a sold me to someone passing through. He didn’t want to run the risk of someone coming to look for me.”

Miho rapped on the counter with a short laugh. “And considering how everyone gets spooked by my brother, I can only imagine what someone would feel like if they all showed up one day. But, he sold me to the spacer who sold me to someone who wanted meat.”

The whiskey arrived by way of a quickly passing bartender and she took a drink. Had it been Ira? Setting the glass down, she said softly. “He got more than he bargained for. I was taught by a lot of people for a lot of years how to defend myself. He taught me how to use those skills to hurt other people.”

She lifted her glass with a sardonic grin in a mock salute. “When he didn’t need me, I was frozen in carbonite until he needed a weapon again. Lovely life.”

<@645466919415054357> <@232396983854301187>

Reiden listened in silence. He wasn’t quite sure what to say. What could be said after that revelation? Such a thing was unimaginable to him. Sadly, he wouldn’t be surprised if he learned that there were others in the galaxy that had gone through a similar process of freezing and being used, then frozen again. Although the part about being used as a weapon reminded him of his own earlier training with his original master, Kadain. Over the years since learning the truth of the old man, he had grown more and more certain that he had been trained for much the same purpose. He had even begun to suspect that the planets they traveled to all had a specific goal and that Kadain had orchestrated things somehow. Of course, he probably wouldn’t ever learn the truth, what with the whole being dead thing. Still, Miho’s story hit home. He felt for the woman. Nobody should have to go through that kind of thing.

Karabast.

“I’m sorry, Miho,” he said finally, finishing off his drink. “I’m glad you were able to reunite with your brother, though.”

“Hell of a story, Miho.” Morgan raised her glass in a toast, “to suviving and living free again.” She downed her whiskey far too quickly and it burned just enough to help her ignore the rage in the pit of her stomach. She ordered another. “I have a feeling we’re gonna need the bottle here.”

It was far too much for Mikhail. Around the time the current bar tender had to start declaring lines be formed, the Arkanian slipped away silently. He couldn’t handle a packed bar at the moment, he couldn’t handle much right now if he was honest with himself. He didn’t know what to do, but the overpacked bar hadn’t helped the ever lurking anxiety that crept into his system.

He needed quiet. Something to focus on and distract himself with. So he wandered back to the dock area, and started meandering through the collections of ships. He catalogued each one he came across, testing his memory by naming each make and model, then estimating their worth by the most recent numbers he could recall.

It was something.

As long as no one cared about him staring silently at their ship.

“I don’t know, it just … it just seems like something you probably know more intimately than I do,” he admitted.

“Yeah. To survival.” Erinyes likewise downed the rest of her drink, and patted Mihoshi on the back. She’d heard bits and pieces of the story before, but it was still sad. “You’re out and living now. Even making up for lost time.”

When Morgan’s bottle of Dark Elixir arrived, the Zeltron slid credits—well, her expense account chit, but still—over to Ira. Such was the price of being a top-shelf spirit at the Shame Corner, and damned if it wasn’t worth it. Besides, she figured the pirate queen would appreciate both the gesture and the fact that Erinyes was using Brotherhood funds to buy her own product—a little bit of white-collar piracy, after a fashion.

<@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187>

He nodded. “I think that’s why my people place such importance on preserving our history, our culture. I think about that often when out in the field. All these civilizations I’ve had the privilege of learning about – there’s so much we’ll just … never know about them, you know? It’s humbling.”

When reminded of the cakes, Bril quickly opened the box while thanking her. The rich, savory aroma of the fish and fried breading made his mouth water. He picked one up and extended the box toward her. “Would you like one?”

Brelon finished up his jerky purchases and then glanced around to get his bearings. Seeing the word ‘Fudge’ in large glowing letters, he headed off in that direction. His master loved chocolate in all forms but she’d recently revealed a particular love for fudge. He wasn’t in a hurry, so he strolled leisurely across the market to the fudge displays, enjoying the sights and sounds of the marketplace. It reminded him of a couple other ports he’d visited during his career as a starship pilot.

Arriving at the fudge section he swallowed hard as once again his eyes were met with an enormous selection of all kinds and colors and flavors of fudges. He glanced around to see if there was someone who could help him narrow the selections down a little bit.

<@244244163002892288>

Brelon still hadn’t found a fudge attendant. Turning as he heard a familiar voice, he was suddenly enveloped in a swirling sea of rainbows that could only be one person in the galaxy. He more than happily returned the hug. When Rue finally drew back from the hug, he smiled warmly and tossed his flame red hair back over his shoulder.

“I am here, hello to you too Rue. I’m so happy to see you again. Have you been well?”

Brelon gave a little mrr of his own in response to Rue’s soft purring. He grinned brightly when Rue withdrew the small fluffball from his hair.

“Oh you got a baby from Ras. That’s a cute one.”

As Rue’s tail drew him closer, he happily slid one arm around the hybrid’s shoulders as he peered at the sleepy baby Voorpak.

“It’s so nice to meet you Serrulata. It is a bit of a mouthful but still a very pretty name.”

He looked up to meet Rue’s saffron gaze.

“I’m also glad you and master Ras got along so well, I told you she’d love you when she met you. And I’m glad to see you here too, I’m glad you’ve been well.”

He gave Rue an extra little side hug, so as not to squish Rue’s new baby between them, then he finally withdrew his arm, not wanting to make things awkward, though he was also perfectly content to stand right where Rue’s tail had pulled him to.

Although he was wolfing down his food as if he hadn’t eaten in days, Bril was still listening intently to Avalon’s words. The revelation that Ira had somehow created the station, perhaps even shaped the asteroid itself, made his eyes widen. He understood where she was coming from. Sometimes, when he was most desperate in his desire to keep his friends and family safe, he wished he could just … make everyone who threatened them forget. In a galaxy where danger always seemed right around the corner, that kind of anonymity was a boon that even a trillion credits couldn’t buy.

“I understand,” he began, taking the time to close the box of remaining fishcakes before looking up to hold Avalon’s gaze, “both your desire to remain hidden in plain sight and your mistrust of me due to my association with the Brotherhood. I won’t ask you to ‘expose yourself’, as you’ve put it, anymore. But I would like to clarify that it’s not my Brotherhood. Yes, I’m an Envoy and everything, but my allegiance is ultimately more to the people than to the Brotherhood itself, and certainly not the Grand Master. I’ve never even seen him.”

He hoped she could discern his sincerity, and that maybe in this regard, they weren’t so different. After all, the Shame Corner’s connection with the Envoy Corps – and the Brotherhood by proxy – was well-established. Why had they chosen to anchor themselves to the Brotherhood if they were so critical of it and its rulers (which, were valid criticisms he’d made himself at different points)? Perhaps Avalon, Vidente, and Ira recognized as he had that proximity to the Brotherhood was better than distance – at least the former afforded them a better chance of knowing what dangers were coming next, allowing them to react accordingly?

Or perhaps they were kept close not due to any desire of their own, but due to the will of the very Grand Masters of which she spoke? There were too many possibilities and too few concrete details.

Brelon grinned when Rue continued to purr happily. He chuckled when he watched the tiny ball of fluff disappear back into Rue’s rainbow of hair.

“I am glad you both get along. She really isn’t like any other Sith I’ve met. She gave me a pet too, a polecat named Trouble. But I left him on the shuttle so he could keep napping. I figured this might be too much commotion for him. We’re still working on our bond.”

He shrugged lightly and finally reached down to pick up the bag of jerky he’d dropped when he was hugged by Rue.

“I’m here shopping for some gifts for Ras, actually. Found some jerky I think she’ll like, and was going to look at fudge next, and then you saw me and came over. Do you have any ideas about the fudge?”

“Well, that makes me feel good, at least,” he replied with a gentle sigh. The last thing he wanted was to be viewed in a questionable light due to his affiliations on paper. He’d experienced plenty of that during his brief tenure in Clan Plagueis.

The young zabrak blinked upon hearing her last comment, then instinctually moved a hand to rub the back of his neck to distract himself from the gentle warmth spreading across his cheeks. “I wasn’t thinking that hard,” he protested weakly while averting his gaze.

Morgan raised an eyebrow as the Emissary paid for her, her one good eye never wavering from Erin’s expression, scanning, analyzing, looking for intent beyond the lip of the whiskey glass. Intent mattered to Morgan, despite the chemistry between them. She smiled. “I assume you do that for all your future clients? Butter them up before setting up a deal?”

“Future clients get free samples, but only the cute ones get the whole bottle.” Erinyes winked at the pirate queen. “Oh, speaking of business, I did start working on a rum after our chat with Rasilvenaira. You should all come visit and try it out.”

<@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187> <@142754576863330304>

“What do you think, Miho, could you handle another run at the distillery?” Morgan clapped Miho on the shoulder as she laughed. “Like I said, I’ll be there but I’m bringing my crew with me. To sample the goods, so to speak. Just don’t let them drink you dry.”

Miho smiled at Morgan and nodded. What she said happened to someone else. That’s how she always looked at it now. Dispassionately or it would begin to eat her alive again. “I would love to. It was a lot of fun the last time.”

She paused for a minute and added as an afterthought. “Well, her remedy left something to be desired, but the rest was fun.”

That’s it. Scars on her soul that still had the power to hurt still. She wasn’t that far removed from it. Only a year? Two? Someone else’s pain. Someone else’s soul on fire. “I rather imagine the trip with a band of pirates might be even more interesting. Can we bring Reiden with us? He looks like he’d be fun when he starts to really unwind.”

She looked at the man she considered close enough to be a friend. They had a few run ins before and she found him a good companion.

Besides, someone might need to keep her upright knowing the last distillery trip.

<@645466919415054357> <@232396983854301187>

Reiden considered for a moment. On one hand, drinking with a Zeltron and a pirate boss could prove to be dangerous. On the other hand, it could be a lot of fun and with good company, and he’d wanted to visit Kasiya for quite some time now, so it would be nice to finally be able to do so. Then again, he was familiar with danger and no stranger to that particular kind of fun. He’d partied it up plenty over the years, especially during his time on Nar Shaddaa. Some worlds may not have served him on one of his stints there, but pirates, criminals, and the like often didn’t care for such things.

And, perhaps more importantly, he was planning to visit that distillery anyway at some point. No time like the present, as they say.

“I’d love to go there and check things out,” he said as he turned to Miho, grinning.

Overhearing the bartender’s comment, Erinyes shot a glance between Ira and Reiden—then without so much as a pause, fixed her eyes on Reiden and jerked her head towards Ira. The gesture was an unmistakable “what are you waiting for?!”.

<@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187> <@690640377262243843>

Bridging the gap between them through the Force, Bril’s voice could be heard in the back of Reiden’s mind. “Never hesitate to shoot your shot, Palpa-kid.”

It was as if the zabrak could sense the opportunity slipping through his companion’s fingers.

<@232396983854301187>

Brelon smiled warmly, “I would love to introduce you to Trouble, if you don’t mind a bit of a hike back to my shuttle. Ras told me I should keep him with me to socialize him, but I felt the whole marketplace here might be too much stimulation and he could get spooked. I have a harness for him but he doesn’t really like to wear it.”

He glanced back to the fudge display and shrugged, “I’ll just pick some out, then we can go back to my shuttle and I’ll show you Trouble and can put the fudge and jerky away, especially somewhere secure so he won’t get into it.” “

He picked out a maple fudge, a hot fudge sundae fudge, two types of plain chocolate fudges, and a salted caramel fudge. Then for fun, he got a sampler pack with several other varieties in it. He finally found someone attending the area and he was able to pay for the fudge and get it all bagged up.

"Okay, Rue, ready to go meet Trouble? I’m not keeping you from your friends am I?”

Alex stared at the nearly-empty pint glass in front of him, the last bits of dark liquid pooling at the bottom. It had been…adequate. Not great, not something he would find himself seeking out often, if anything a bit dry and bland. As he felt a belch climbing its way out of his guts, his opinion revised downward a bit.

“That was…an experience,” his tone contained multitudes of emotion as the statement spilled out, clearly still in debate with himself over this new discovery. Normally having a single drink at the bar would be out of the question for him, not only from the short amount of time it would normally take but also because it would shorten the pleasure. Now though? Returning to the ship and trying to find anything to let him experience flavor again was sounding like a solid idea. As he stood from the bar stool, Steven approached. The tall droid set his glass of oil, mostly absorbed, on the bartop and offered a bit of stabilizing support to his principal. Alex was a bit unsteady on his feet, not from drunkenness but seeming almost more from exhaustion.

“Steven, my good man, it is a lot of work to bear the burden of a scion…” Alex mumbled a bit as he headed toward the exit, throwing a half-energy wave over his shoulder toward the bartender as he went.

“Well,” there may have been more than a hint of amusement to Steven’s voice as he responded, though with the droid it was often impossible to tell, “I may have some good news in that regard, sir. I have reviewed the briefing package you were provided with your elevation to the position of Proconsul.” Alex turned his head lazily to look over his shoulder at the valet, continuing his plodding pace toward the docks. “It does not appear there is any formal expectation of dress or behavior in your role, and ‘Shadow Scion’ seems to be mostly an honorary title.” .

The words slowly sunk in as Alex made his way back onto the ramp into the Herald of Entropy, his brow furrowing as he considered their meaning. Reaching the top of the ramp, a visible weight lifted from his shoulders as he strode toward the cockpit much more energetically.

“Oh, amazing! I do not know how much longer I could keep that up…”

Bril blinked as if he were processing Avalon’s comment. “I know it shouldn’t surprise me that you’d speak so casually about a Dark Lord of the Sith, but it does. Absolutely surreal.”

“Competition?” he said, confused for a moment. “Just considering a trip with some friends. I’ve always been curious about going to visit a distillery and see how they work, but somehow never managed to find the time before.” He paused, laughing softly. “Of course, they haven’t said yes yet, so maybe it’ll have to wait for another time. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Erinyes was, however, looking significantly at Ira. The woman was womanhandling a Wookiee one-handed.

Was it getting warm in here? Or was it just the alcohol?

The boy’s offer was perfectly timed to let Erinyes recover her composure, before her eyes popped out of her head. What was a random kid doing passing out friendship bracelets in a bar? The Shame Corner wasn’t the type of place to employ child labour, or to let a youngling in need go unassisted. Was something strange afoot?

… ah, hell, it was a kid passing out friendship bracelets. If there was trouble, the staff would handle it. Maybe it’d mean Ira sweeping her off her feet.

“Sure, I’d love one.” Erinyes smiled brightly and took the offered bracelet. “Can I give you some credits?”

“Aw, thank you! That’s very sweet of you.” Erinyes attached the bracelet to her wrist. “Come on, gang, let’s all get one.”

Morgan’s non-chalant expression betrayed nothing in the way of awe or excitement. “And why, pray tell, are you manhandling one of my men, exactly? What rule did he break?” She snapped her finger. Immediately Torve was there, waiting for orders. “Torve is my bosun. Deck officer. She’ll handle any issues you have.”

<@244244163002892288>

Erinyes promptly handed the bracelets out to Miho, Morgan, and Reiden. It wouldn’t do to disappoint the kid now.

<@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187> <@690640377262243843>

Morgan smiled at Erin as she took the bracelet. “Thanks, sweetheart.” She turned back to Ira, expression as serious as can be.

Torve gave Ira a wide smile. “You and I need to wrestle one day.” She grabbed the Wookiee by the scruff of his neck and dragged him out. “This isn’t the first time I’m doing this, Chowwaak. I told you last time this would happen again, and it did. I told you, didn’t I tell you?” The wookiee groaned being dragged out of the bar.

The young-sounding voice was enough to turn Reiden’s attention away from Ira’s impressive display with the Wookiee. He looked over and was surprised to see a child in the bar, especially an unattended one. But figuring there was no mostly no harm in his presence or his offer, he gave the boy a smile and accepted the bracelet Erinyes had extended to him, attaching it to his wrist.

“Thank you.”

Torve dragged the Wookiee out of the bar, found an open space with some benches to sit on and sat Chowwaak on one of them. He was drunk as a Bantha on fermented Wasaka berries, and beaten and bloodied by the angry bartender. One of his eyes was half-closed, the other lolled around trying to find some balance. His stomach clearly caught up with the ordeal because he bent over and vomited.

Torve sat next to him and slapped him on the back to help get it all out. “Oh, buddy, you went and done it now. Why’d you have to grope the nice lady, huh?”

A low rumble, and several growls escaped his bile covered lips.

“I get that you liked the lady and you wanted to be friendly, but ladies don’t like to be touched when they don’t wanna, savvy? You lose fingers for that.” She winced as she ejected another round and wiped his chin with his still-intact fingers. “Lucky you I guess, but that’s your second strike. Third one means Captain gets involved.”

His expression turned from confused and unbalanced to focused and scared shitless right quick. He murmured again, several yelps too.

Torve simply smiled and patted him on the back. “I’m sure you will, buddy. Now, lemme help you to the ship. You need to sleep off this boozin’.”

She hated ships. The stale air, the hum of bulkheads, the metallic taste of recycled oxygen—necessary, but despised all the same. Space stations carried much of the same discomfort, just repackaged. Open air. Movement. Less efficient, annoyingly chaotic even, but alive. Mostly, the desert-born woman looked forward to solid earth beneath her boots, and the genuine warmth of a star on her sun-bronzed, sol-yearning skin.

The drop here wasn’t that. But it was freedom from the deep cold black, at least.

Socorra hadn’t planned to stop in. Not without checking reviews first.

The outlet strip on the station was bright and noisy. The Sith-Mandalorian moved slowly, deliberately, half her attention cataloguing vendor names, price tags, and exits. Habit, as always. The other half listened to the mental voices spread across the station. Compulsion, as always.

Then she saw them.

A pair of Envoys (or Brotherhood, at least) lingered near a display of toddler clothes. One held a small something, cradled close and sacred—a baby? A pet? A pet baby? The woman stared far too long.

She caught the sound of it: the soft, contented breath of something helpless curling into warmth and tenderness. Her single arctic eye unfocused for a moment as perfect recall betrayed her and she remembered… a small hand wrapping around her finger. The other, a tiny fingergun—because of course.

So many battle hours logged. So many days stuck in a bacta tank. Or nose deep in reports and endless, useless data. On ships.

Was it worth it?

With an effort that felt heavier than it should’ve, Socorra pivoted on her heel and walked away, leaving the gentle laughter behind her. There was a bar to find.

“Always nice to make friends.” Erinyes, belatedly registering the interaction between Ira and Reiden, sighed inwardly. Was he in denial? Was it because the man genuinely couldn’t tell that Ira was making a move on him? Sure, he wasn’t a Zeltron and didn’t reflexively sense people’s feelings, but he’d interacted with people before, right?

Oh, well. If Reiden didn’t want to make a move, there was nothing she could do… except grill him about it at the distillery tour. Muahahahaha.

With the bracelets now distributed, Erinyes topped off Morgan’s whiskey. “If you like this enough, we can set up some kind of deal to get it aboard your ship.”

<@227653769842655233> <@690640377262243843>

Valara had, obviously, sanitized the drink and pouring container prior to acquiring her rum fix. It was a process, but worth it. She had managed at least four long, enjoyable sips of burning reward by the time the boy approached her. The Kiffar paused for a moment, casting a sidelong glance at him before tilting her drink back once more.

“Hm, what sort of bracelet, child?” she asked, contemplating it carefully. Was it handmade? That was a risk, to be sure. If it was machine manufactured then there shouldn’t be traces…and why approach her? Sure. she had plenty of finery, but it was meticulously selected and curated and vetted.

Another sip.

Fire clawed at her throat and chest.

The light of innocence shone in the child’s eyes.

Frack.

Without turning her head, merely returning her gaze towards the bar, Valara pointed with her chin towards the counter before her. “By all means. You may place it there, child.”

Morgan chuckled into her glass. “Perhaps. After a tasting at your distillery.” She slid confidently closer, almost close enough to feel the body heat. “I think we’ll need to detour about every week. My crew are avid drinkers.”

Brelon gathered all his purchases in one hand then slid his free one around Rue again for another gentle hug. “I’m sorry you’ve ever had to feel that, its never enjoyable to love and not have it returned. I hope they can work it out for the best, and a baby is definitely something to be excited for. Who’s having a baby?”

Stepping back from the hug, but staying within tail reach, he turned and motioned for Rue to follow him back to the ship to meet Trouble and he wanted to stash his jerky and fudge where it would be safe from a curious polecat. Definitely did not want to explain to Rasilvenaira how his pet ate her gifts.

Once at the ship, he lowered the ramp and was met by a chittering scolding polecat who hadn’t enjoyed being left behind. He shooed Trouble back away from the doorway and ushered Rue inside and closed the ramp behind himself as he followed Rue in.

“This would be Trouble, he’s clearly unhappy about being left behind. Maybe I will try putting his harness on and taking him with me. Ras said he would probably be fine since we do have a fairly good bond so far. I’d like it to be stronger cause I’m still not 100% sure I can trust him in any situation yet, but I want to get there.”

He put the food into a secure cabinet and locked it away from prying paws and teeth. Then he turned back to Rue and picked Trouble up and held him where Rue could see him.

“This is Trouble. Trouble, this is a special friend, you can trust Rue.”

Miho lifted her head off the counter enough to accept the bracelet, looking it over with bloodshot eyes. It was a stiff, slender item with what felt like a strip of something else in it.

With a shrug, she put it against her skinand watched as it contorted itself with a snap around the slender wrist.

“Huh. That was neat.” The only show of surprise was slightly widened eyes. “Cute too. Thank you.”

She lifted her glass and took a drink of the whiskey, smiling slightly. “What were we talking about again? I was getting acquainted with the counter a bit too intimately, I think.”

The side of her face was fading to a light pink, but clearly she had been laying full force into the counter for a bit. Possibly dozing off.

<@645466919415054357> <@690640377262243843> <@232396983854301187> <@244244163002892288>

At the end of the promenade, Socorra’s pace slowed. A small vendor stall was tucked between louder shops—simple shelving, bright colors, blinking lights. Mostly toys. Local, offstation, some handmade, others molded from cheap materials trying to look expensive. Little starfighters. Puzzle cubes. Stuffed things with too many eyes.

The woman stopped, scanning the offerings with the same clinical detachment she gave to weapons lockers. There were no labels to tell her what a child his age might like. No guide. No context.

Cybernetic fingers hovered near a carved hoverbeast with tiny articulated legs, the kind of thing a child might zoom across the floor. It felt foreign now, distant. But she was trying.

She bit her ruby lip and purchased it.

The bar ahead pulsed with life and layered intent. To most, it was noise and warmth. To Socorra, it was data, information. Everything said more than it meant to. Her mind moved ahead of her body, mapping the room: faces, rhythms, emotional static.

So many new faces. Not surprising. Still irritating. Her compulsion made her pause, made her burn every detail into memory before she even crossed the threshold. She felt the ripples, heard the laugh that didn’t carry truth. Kesh’ta. She didn’t need to know who or what, not yet. Or maybe not at all. Kark it. She was here to spend credits, not earn them.

She stepped inside like she’d already been there. Her boots made no sound. No armor, save for a deeply gouged mantle affixed across one naked shoulder. A full belt of weapons, with a child’s toy hanging between them. Black tank, black pants, matte boots. Everything close-fit. Long and dark hair both loose and braided, with shocks of white spread throughout. They were far less to do with age than unnatural means, but it grew all the same. Her presence was quiet, unremarkable. Until it wasn’t.

Her scent arrived first.

The fragrance moved with her, oil-warm and ancient, ghosting through the air. A scent too bold for close quarters but here it breathed. Moonblossom. Barrel-aged Socorran spice, threaded with krayt musk and smoldered resin. A thread of Kyataran wood grounded the attar…cool, meditative, and clean as temple stone. Luxurious. Outlawed on most planets. The kind of scent made from plants and earth that maybe didn’t exist anymore.

She hadn’t worn attar in months—not in the confines of ships and sealed suits and bacta tanks. But here on station, surrounded by air that moved, she’d chosen bold. Maybe it was boredom. Or ritual. Or the need to feel something familiar and natural pressed against her skin again. Scent memory would linger and give her away, but she was tired of disappearing.

“Well, Master Ruka is a Dark Jedi, so somewhat closer to that. But he’s too much of a boy scout to be a "Dark Lord.” Master Cora is a Light-sider through-and-through, so …“

He shook his head. "Neither really fit the bill. Also, have you been keeping tabs on me, Avalon?” he leaned forward, making a show of narrowing his eyes in a comical way.

“Fair point, though I wonder what’s in my dossier file you have on me…” He hoped that there was nothing detailing the embarrassing mishap he’d been involved in during his brief trip to the Caperion System. Reiden had assured him that all reports of that day had been scrubbed, but he’d be a fool not to suspect that Avalon had ways of getting around that.

When the young girl came up to them, Bril nodded, took the bracelet, and put it on his wrist with an audible snap. “Thanks,” he smiled before looking to Avalon, “did we just become best friends?” A chuckle

Then, recognition hit him when it finally dawned on him who thr girl was.

“Hey, you’re Kirra, right?” he called to her.

“I guess we’d be seeing a lot more of each other, then.” Erinyes grinned. “Maybe even get to know each other better.”

Yep, it was definitely warm in here.

“If you’re looking for ways to keep busy, you could make it a working vacation. Kasiya’s in the Seitia sector, just off the Trade Spine. Not all that far from Terminus, if you wanted to stir up trouble there, or raid traffic headed out of Bespin.”

<@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187>

“Raidin’ those routes is very profitable,” Morgan said, not taking her eye off of Erin’s. It wasn’t entirely clear she was talking about pirate raids, either. She leaned in closer, intimate, so no one else could hear, close enough to whisper. “but dangerous too, especially if you don’t know the region. One wrong move and you’re stardust.” Her tone was playful, but held an undertone of solemnness to it.

She broke out a smile as moved away again. “We’ll see how the tasting goes. Maybe then we can make some sort of deal.” She took another sip from her glass, enjoying the sensation. “You do have excellent whiskey, I would hate to miss this chance.”

Reiden took a sip from his glass and looked over at the small woman. He had been in a similar state plenty of times throughout his life - although it had been a while since it had gotten that bad - so he empathized with the situation. He offered a small, hopefully reassuring smile. “We were just talking about the idea to go visit Erinyes’ distillery on Kasiya.”

“Mesh’la?”

She didn’t believe her senses at first, but it was an Envoy station after all. Socorra dropped to a knee to meet the young Tyris eye to… eye. A bright flicker of a smile pulled at her lips.

The boy’s face was so familial, so familiar, even more so now with age. Socorra knew those eyes well; striking blue like his father’s, and while only half Hapan, just as handsome. Weyne had grown more than expected, as if the Force had fast-forwarded him.

The “Auntie” (no longer Aunny, apparently / by the Nine Hells had he grown) reached to embrace the little nephew but her gaze caught on the strange bracelet he was showing off. Her burn-scarred hand froze mid-air. Many species wore jewelry, but this had a name, apparently. A purpose. A kind of signal. The meaning escaped her. ‘Friendship’ bracelet.

“What are—what you bring me?”

He looked older, but still far too young to be walking into a place like this, holding something that could be anything. Gods, what had he picked up? 

Oh, my sweet summer child.

The warmth drained from her voice. She cupped the boy’s hands gently but firmly, as if handling something volatile.

“Meshl…Weyne. Where you get zis? Father know? What is it, hmm?”

Her senses rapidly swept the room again, sharp and searching. The odd jewelry was everywhere. Too identical. Too conspicuous. A tracking device? Poison relay? Remotely triggered explosive?

She didn’t ask permission. Didn’t hesitate. Her instincts screamed louder than reason. She leaned in, turned the boy’s hands outward, and pressed them into her chest—shielding him, just in case.

Bril quickly averted his gaze upon feeling the weight of Avalon’s gaze bearing down on him, instinctually reaching out to grab another fish cake to awkwardly munch on it in the hopes of assuaging some of the discomfort he felt. “Matching buddies, I’ll take it…,” he muttered.

Luckily, Kirra was there for him to direct his attention to. “I know your father,” he explained to her, “He’s my boss but we’re also like, best buds. The next time you see him, ask him how he got the nickname M-Dawg.”

Bril grinned a poodoo-eating grin.

Trouble wiggled his way out of Brelon’s arms and hopped over to Rue to sniff at him, then he came closer and flopped over on his back and wiggled wanting a belly rub.

Brelon laughed and went to go find his harness and leash for Trouble. “Might need you to help me put the harness on him, he’ll complain but I want to keep him safe. At least on a leash he can’t get too far if he gets scared or anything and I won’t have to worry about him getting lost.”

He settled on the floor with the little polecat between them, and he happily reached out to rub the offered tummy.

“You can pet his tummy, he likes it.”

Traversing back to Corellia was something that would usually excite Sebastian Vasca. Now, he dreaded it; the expectation of disappointment weighed heavily on him. Even though he had taken full ownership of the wrongs he’d committed, it didn’t change the fact that all he left in his wake was hurt and the disappointment of his family.

On his way there, he made a stop at the Shame Corner. The place was well known for its food, fudge, and stellar service and… it was where he met the love of his life. If he hadn’t ruined that too, she would be here, by his side.

He learned the hard way: participating in criminal activities was bad for relationships. A youngling could have told him that, yet he still chose to go down that path—one that, seemingly, had no way back.

Thankfully, Bril had convinced him there was still hope for change. But Sebastian knew words meant nothing unless backed by action. If he wanted to keep the promises he’d made, he had to prove he was a changed man.

–

Walking into the familiar place, he made his way to the section that sold fudge. Chocolate was one of his favorite foods and one of the few things he’d shared with Lektra, who had never tried it before. As he grabbed the familiar package, a warm, albeit brief, smile appeared on his lips.

Taking the package in hand, he continued toward the store’s exit. Before leaving, he stopped at a kiosk and paid more than what the treat was worth, then headed back to Transit Stop 0, where he waited for his next shuttle to arrive.

The hairs on the back of Bril’s neck bristled at Kirra’s mention of his lo'edar, but he maintained his composure. He smiled and extended a closed hand for a fist bump. “You’re quite the gifted young one, aren’t you?” he asked, a fact that came as no surprise given who her father was.

Then, he tilted his head when his senses detected a new arrival to the galactic waystation, one whose thread in the Force vibrated with a familiar note. As Sebastian waited for his shuttle, the sound of Bril’s voice – little more than a whisper crept in from the recesses of his mind:

“I see you.”

<@315438760428961793>

Then, the zabrak looked over ro Avalon. “Hey, you don’t by chance know anyone named Sienna, do you?”

“Uh,” Charoo looked at Orse who was rapidly becoming uncomfortable and pulling away in her seat, and took the bracelets. “Sure, uh I’ll take one for each of us.” He smiled a crooked, insincere smile, but took the bracelets nonetheless. “Thanks, kid.”

He shook his head, “No reason. Just a stupid joke I thought of. I shouldn’t keep you from your work any longer.”

Brelon grinned and seeing Trouble take to Rue pleased him greatly. He wanted his pet to be happy around his friends. Every time his hand brushed against Rue’s he smiled even more. He might be grinning like an idiot but he didn’t care, and he knew Rue didn’t seem to mind either given how his friend was purring.

Trouble trilled and purred happily wiggling as his belly got rubs from both his person and the new person who smelled friendly. He smelled like flowers, which made Trouble think of rolling outside in the grass when Brelon took him places that had it. He gently nibbled at Rue’s forearm, but not enough to hurt, just playful nibbles of affection.

“He does seem to really like you, Rue. I’m so glad he does. That would be great if you can help me get the harness on him. It shouldn’t be too hard since he clearly trusts you like I do.”

He put the harness down beside the polecat and Trouble wiggled around and rolled to his side enough to chew on it until Brelon booped his nose and started giving him ear scratches.

Gesturing a thumbs up that that was good to the Rodian lass he still didn’t know the name of, AJ reached a hand out for the datapad. He paused mid exchange, first at Besaade’s offer and secondly at the hissed reply from the other teen.

Savran?

Was that Besaade’s actual name? Many artists go by monikers so it wouldn’t be all that surprising. Yet the word could easily be some curse or something in another language. What was clear was this girl was not comfortable with the idea nor wanting.

“Uh, thanks, really, for the picture and meeting you, Besaade. Can’t wait to see what else you have cooking in the works. I don’t want to waste more of your time though.”

<@1056685516441006091>

Miho grinned at Reiden. Such a useful fellow to have around. Always seemed to pay attention and never seemed too terribly put out by the antics of others.

“A tour of the distillery, you say? Yes, that sounds like a great deal of fun.” She turned her head and swept the bar with violet eyes. Something strange, something familiar but also not. The feeling was a buzz in the back of her mind. Shaking her head, Miho did her best to ignore it. It would either go away or become more noticeable.

Turning bad to Reiden and her other companions, she took another sip of whiskey. “So, when do we leave?”

<@690640377262243843> <@645466919415054357> <@232396983854301187>

He muttered, “…because I’m sienna striking resemblance between the two.”

Something told her that that wasn’t the original joke he had in mind, but one he had modified on the spot lest he draw the Echani’s ire.

“You know, I haven’t really thought of it,” Savi replied with a gentle shrug, “Maybe I’ll start collaborating with other artists, now. Are you musician, yourself? Or just a fan?

"And I’m just here enjoying a bit of down time, so it’s not a waste, really.”

Savi glanced over to the other, pallid rodian to see how they were fairing.

Brelon watched, listening to Rue talk about the litluns and he could just picture Rue with several small children around him. He felt that would be quite a joy to watch. He continued to pet Trouble, reassuring him as Rue began to move and touch him with the harness.

At the little mrrp, he cooed and mrred back continuing to reassure his little friend. “You’re okay, Trouble. It’s just your harness, you know it.”

“Okay, Rue, let’s see if we can slide it on him now and get it fastened.”

While the polecat was focused on Rue, Brelon got up and went to get some treats out of his backpack. He gave a few to Rue, then settled back on the ground with a few feet between them.

“Give him a treat, then I’ll offer him one, I bet he’ll forget all about the harness after a few treats.”

Trouble murred happily, putting his front paws on Rue’s leg to reach for the treat. Once he had it, he gobbled it down and was looking for more when his person whistled at him. He turned and saw another treat in Brelon’s hand.

Brelon wiggled the treat. “Come Trouble, get your treat.”

Trouble stiffly wobbled over to Brelon, and nibbled his treat. By the fourth pass betwee them he was hoping normally. Brelon laughed and reached out to pick the polecat up, tickling his tummy as he cuddled him in his arms.

“Okay, Trouble. You’ve got no excuse now. This means you can go with me when I go out, won’t that be exciting?”

“You’re all welcome to visit anytime,” Erinyes said. “I’d be happy to give you a tour. I was thinking of making it more like an event event, though—opening it up to the Brotherhood and all that. You know, lay it out all professionally, serve food, that kind of thing.”

<@232396983854301187> <@690640377262243843>

Once Trouble was going back and forth at a normal pace without acting like he was going to flop over with the harness on, Brelon took the next step. He gave Trouble a treat and held one more in his hand to keep the polecat’s attention. He clipped the leash firmly in place on the harness.

Then he gave it a light tug and let go, just so Trouble would notice the leash attached, but now they needed to desensitize him to it by letting him go back and forth for treats again.

“Got the leash on him, give him treats and pets when he comes to you and I’ll do the same until he stops reacting to it dragging behind him. I want him to get used to there being at least a little drag on his harness since he won’t be able to just run off however he wants to in it.”

He smiled over at Rue, enjoying the harmony of purring happening, he did so love the sounds Rue made as well as Trouble’s adorable chitters and trills.

“Oh,” she said simply.

Socorra’s dark brows furrowed deeper before she finally just pulled all of him in—clutching the boy close, his little head tucked to her shoulder and entangled in a web of long hair.

But there was a dull ache in it. Weyne was not her son. No, that was… another life, literally, long buried. One that might have made him hers. And still, she cared for him fiercely. His big sis too, of course, just differently.

She held him tightly, exhaling relief she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Mother’s idea, sah? Always with idea, that one. Psh, like your uncle.” Slowly she loosened her grip and straightened her spine. Her chin lifted a fraction. The woman knew what Atyiru and her ‘ideas’ often meant. It made her want her armor now more than when she thought the karking thing might explode.

“But logic say I must have friend to wear friendship bracelet.”

Socorra scanned the room, her arctic eye flicking from stranger to stranger and the very few familiars. A silent cataloguing. She looked back to him and extended her wrist with a nod: 

“Weyne…will you be my friend? Maybe…best friend?”

Socorra turned her wrist, testing the weight of the band. She gave him a small solemn nod.

“So we is.”

She paused a moment. Then quieter, and conspiratorial:

“I have two surprise too.”

Her hand drifted to her belt. She unhooked the carved hoverbeast and held it out, palm open—burn scars pale and deep beneath the toy—ironically earned in a round against his father.

“Was for Turi. …may be a while.”

Her Star Courier, the Nocte Drakon was getting refueled after this last mission gathering intelligence, not only for her clan, but also herself. Had the trail not gone cold all of a sudden, then she’d still be looking, however she didn’t have a whole lot of time, due to her duties as Quaestor calling her back to Plagueis.

As such she happened to passing within airspace that it didn’t hurt to stop and refuel at the Shame Corner, rather than use every last bit of fuel, plus a bit of reserve, just to hurry back to Aliso.

Besides, what was the harm of winding down for a couple of hours. Going from one situation right into another is not what I should be doing. Especially after the news I’ve had.

Walking into the station, she noticed that it was quite busy, especially when she looked towards the Seven Sins bar. Sighing, even though she had wanted a drink, she resigned herself to looking around. Maybe she’d get some of the fudge that Zeva had said she wanted to try. A small gift for having to drop her and Zoko off so quickly, although the look on her brothers face when she brought them in was priceless.

Eeth'Mireth let out a small warble, looking around at people and spotting several pieces of merchandise that looked her kind.

“Yes yes. I know you know this place,” she chuckled, gently giving the Tailring a gentle scritch under her chin. The eyes of the tiny Dragon-like creature, were bright and full of curiosity. Those bright eyes met Tahiri’s as a small message, some words, mostly images, passed from the Tailring to her through their connection.

“We can’t stay long, however if you wish to explore, than you need to wear your necklace,” the Togruta produced what looked like a small leather bracelet with a beautiful red natural stone and a small Akul tooth. “I added some the things you liked in my stuff. What do you think?”

The Tailring looked at and then sniffed it, finding that the trinkets were in fact the ones she had picked out from her alpha’s things. Looking back at Tahiri she tilted and nodded her head, unwrapping her tail from around the Togruta’s left Lekku. The Elder stretched her right arm out, as the Tailring slipped off her shoulders and onto her arm, letting her slip the ‘necklace’ over her head and then tightening it just a smidge.

“Ok, go explore and be careful not to catch that on anything. And let me know if you need to go to the pet center.” Togruta and Tailring bumped foreheads and nuzzled noses, before Eeth'Mireth spread her wings and gave a little roar before flying off to explore.

Tahiri made her way to the fudge counter and began looking over the selection, while waiting for the attendant to finish up with another patron.

<@244244163002892288>

Morgan’s expression switched on a dime, from flirty smile to growling snarl. She looked for the source of the influence as visions of Coruscant, of the Fifth Day burning, smashing and scattering across that starport invaded her mind, unprompted by her. The fear she felt that day could swallow the sun. Nothing, an no one, could frighten her more than that vision.

She felt the volcano of hate bubbling to the surface from he gut, like acid burning her insides. her body reacted just as she had trained it to: fear, anger, hate…it fueled her. She almost tasted the blood of whoever the frak dared…but she pushed it away. She was there to enjoy, relax, not to break, kill, or bleed.

Finally her attention fell on Ira who, for whatever insane reason, emanated such malice and horror to make even Morgan withdraw. Still, she took the chance, focused on the woman and…but it took everything she had…broke her grip of terror on those around her.

Her focus fully on the crazy bar owner, Morgan whistled loudly, loud enough for every pirate on her crew to register and react. “Bata na teesaw!” she yelled the command like she would on a raid. Tone sharp, volume loud, brooking no argument. Get back to the ship, the order meant. A raid command she used only when things were turning too dangerous to be profitable. Retreat was necessary.

“I hope you’ll excuse me, ladies, but we’re not staying to see what happens to this crazy schutta,” she said as the pirates, some still confused and others who have seen Morgan herself do similar acts, realizing how serious the situation was, retreated, avoiding Ira’s gaze and giving her a wide berth.

“Miho, Reiden, we’ll be waiting.” With that she retreated from the bar with her crew, bottle still in hand.

She had finished getting a sampling several different types of fudge, some for Zeva and Ro, some for her own personal stash, and then there were a couple flavors that she was going to share with other friends when visiting. She had left some credits as a tip to fudge coinsure of service, and heard Atyiru’s joyful and melodic voice over the intercom, shaking her head and smiling.

“I better go and find out what she’s up to,” musing to herself, just as a glitter bomb went off on a shelf she was passing. She paused and looked at her clothes, and then looked at her bag of fudge. Sighing in both relief and only slight annoyance, as most of the glitter had only hit the outer bag, instead of filling it, luckily it was on the other side of her body, away from the initial blast radius.

Then it hit, like a crashing tsunami…

Explosions. Blaster fire and war whoops mixing together. The signature shnik hiss of a lightsaber. Sharp ringing and hum as vibroblades clashing. A ships engines humming. Fighters screaming overhead. Fire. The taste of blood and hot plasma. The screams of her tribe. The cries of her clansmen and subordinates. Klaxon alarms ringing out in the Castle. Her chest feeling pain. Her body exhausted due to fighting.

A flood of different memories, times of war, her first clan and second family being attacked by the Collective, her tribe being ambushed at their summer trading village, events where Tahiri had felt fear. Not fear for her own life, no those were events where she feared for others lives, the lives of her friends and family, extended and by blood. The terror and dread that came over her felt almost unbearable, causing her to pull the Force around and into herself, preparing for a fight.

The Togruta’s sharp eyes quickly scanned the area, seeing Atty as she was clutching Kiira close by. Moving swiftly, and with purpose, she closed the distance between them, her eyes searching for the threat, watching the pirate crew exiting the station from the direction of the bar. Her logical mind rationalizing that the threat was coming from there.

Have to make sure Atty and Kirra, are alright first. I couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to either of them while I’m here.

“Atyru! Kirra! You two alright?” her voice was sharp and clear, with a very worried undertone.

<@244244163002892288>

Somewhere else within the facility

Eeth'Mireth had found some of the resident Tailrings, along with other young Tailrings. She was fast at making new friends, if not somewhat persistent, which came as a bit of annoyance to the elder ones. However, meeting a young male Tailring, who was closer to her own age, was too fun. And already they had schemes going.

When the feeling of great Terror hit however, she looked around, trying to feel where her master was, and get a sense of what she should do. Till she got a direction though, she stayed huddled up with the other young Tailring.

<@141239709291511808>

What.

For someone who was so accustomed to sensing attacks before they happened, the suddenness of the explosion was more unnerving to Erinyes than being covered in craft herpes. On the other hand, it was everywhere. On her clothes. In her drink. In her hair. In her hair. That was going to take forever to get out.

She had feelings about it, too, or at least a feeling: fear. Too much fear, a quieter part of her brain realised, for someone who was used to risking their life.

And yet, not enough fear for the searing, disorienting fury that radiated from Ira and whipped everything into a hurricane as the bartender flew out of her chosen domain.

What.

This was the kind of situation where Erinyes badly needed another drink—but she didn’t dare provoke Ira’s ire (oh, that makes sense, she thought) by reaching over the bar or bringing out her own flask. Instead, she brought three drinks over that incapacitated pirates had left behind in their hasty exit. Two of them went in front of Miho and Reiden, and she downed the third.

The craft herpes was inside her now.

What.

<@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187>

The pop on his wrist caught him by surprise, as did the glitter that erupted from the bracelet. He looked around and saw that it was, in fact, everywhere. On everything. And there had been no warning, no alert from the Force. That was something he couldn’t account for and wasn’t sure he’d experienced before. As his brain worked through it, the only thing he could think of was that it wasn’t a threat, so a warning wasn’t warranted. He had no idea if that was accurate or not, but it made some amount of sense to him.

He didn’t really like that he was now covered in glitter, but at least that’s all it had been and it wasn’t worse. Of course, glitter was already bad enough, but it was harmless…mostly. As the initial shock faded, that was when he felt it.

Dread crept in around the edges, slowly at first, then increasing, spreading. It became more of a presence. It was reaching heights he’d not felt in a long time. It took him a moment to realize that it was not natural, and certainly not proportional to what had happened. And it felt close.

Eventually, he managed to shake the feeling and then saw Ira changing before his eyes. The terror was radiating off of her, and anger as well. It was unnerving and the power nearly overwhelming. Though he tried not to show anything, he had begun to worry what might happen next. Before he could say anything, Morgan had called out to her crew and they left the bar. It was then that the feeling had dissipated, or at least the fear. He slowly connected the dots that she must have done something.

His eyes caught Erinyes bringing drinks over and he slowly reached out to take hold of the glass, downing its contents. He hadn’t meant to drink it all, but his body had acted upon it before his mind could catch up. He let out a slow breath that he hadn’t realized he been holding.

Well, that was **something.

AJ’s antennae twitched as his lips pulled into an awkward smile. Torn between the conflicting vibes between the pair and being caught up in a possible rare opportunity of networking or connections or some sithspit, he chewed mentally on his thoughts for a second. He stood a bit straighter, an attempt at casual confidence.

“Uh, yeah, I’m a bit of a musician. Play a handful of instruments, enjoy spinning up tracks–”

The turquoise Rodian cut off at the appearance of a young girl who dropped some snap bracelets on the table, exclaimed they were gifts and then left. He gave a small confused thanks that might have been missed with how fast the kid spun away. Catching the snap and roll towards the other Rodian’s about, AJ didn’t say anything, sparing from any embarrassment. He, instead, idly selected one of the remaining two and slapped in snug on his own lanky wrist before turning back to Besaade/Savran.

“If you’re just hanging out, I have a couple pieces saved if interested in listening,” he turned to the other teen and gestured with the datapad and headphones, “Both of you–”

Explosion of glitter rained down upon them from an overhead light. His shoulders raised in surprise, blinking through it before shaking his head to dislodge some of it from his spikes, muttering something in his mother tongue. Not even seconds passed when a jolting shiver shot through his spine, causing him to stiffen suddenly. His heart pounded in his ear as his heartbeat picked up tempo thriceful. He glanced around the diner stiffly in his peripheral, searching for any cause of this fear.

Then just like that, it was gone.

“What the…”

<@1056685516441006091>

Glitter clung to his face, to his eyes. It burned them, but he forced the pain away and opened his eyes wide to see a blurry silhouette of silver and racing away. Bril did the same, dipping into the wellspring of the Force and taking what he needed to enhance his speed. Had the circumstances been different, he’d likely have no problem keeping up, but the crushing weight of rage and fear that rippled through the Force like fallout thoroughly stifled his concentration. “Is that Ira?”

Without saying a word, Avalon reached back to grab Bril’s wrist and drag him along, her grip like a vice.

<@244244163002892288>

–

A curious look appeared on Savi’s face when the young rodian offered to play them his music. “Oh? I’d love to. We’d love to. Isn’t that right?” They turned to regard the other rodian with an expectant look. Getting the little gremlin to actually socialize with other people had been difficult, so they hoped Connie took advantage of the opportunity in front of them. Stepping closer, Savi had intended to herd their disguised acquaintance back to where AJ was standing … but then something exploded above their heads.

Instincts honed by nearly three lifetimes’ worth of conflict – of fear, brutal violence, and determination to survive in this wretched galaxy – kicked in when the explosion went off. Savi’s hand shot to the concealed vibroknife fastened to their thigh. Variegated plumage bristled, and the shani’s vertical pupils went wide in anticipation of a threat. But nothing came save for a waterfall of glitter. It got in their clothes, in their face, and worst of all? It got in Savi’s hair.

“Mother f—”

They had no time to be angry, not when a wave of anger and terror ripped through the place like a thermal detonator blast. The Shame Corner’s polished walls and crowded walk-ways dissolved before their eyes, replaced by winding dirt paths flanked by lush vegetation–tropical plants of vibrant greens, yellows, and reds. Each path rose, fell, and snaked across rolling hills that stretched as far as their eyes could see. A long, forked tongue slipped from between lips tattooed onyx, tasting the air. It was fresh. Natural. Nothing like the staleness produced by the refueling station’s mechanical scrubbers.

“Na tle'tamoat nemi,” Savi said to themselves with a gasp, its meaning lost on both rodians who were close enough to hear the words clearly.

Savi heard the distant voice of a woman calling them. “Tlapeloani! Where are you?” It was their mother’s voice. “Tlapeloani, we have to go. The shuttles are all leaving.”

-c-

Savi didn’t understand, at first. How were they back here? Back home? They couldn’t remember the last time they thought of it. But grim understanding set in when they looked upward to witness streaks of light so bright that it hurt their eyes to look at them long trailing across Tamoat’s clear skies. The harbingers of its demise … their people’s demise.

And then as quickly as the visions had come, they vanished; they were back in the Shame Corner. They took a deep breath as the last remnants of Terror dissipated from their mind, then looked to AJ and Connie. “Are you two alright?”

<@244244400488710155> <@244244163002892288>

Glitter.

It was in her half empty glass. It was in her hair. It was on her hat. There was also an interesting ring around her where the hat had kept all the glitter, with nothing immediately around her.

She had glitter in her hair.

She eyed the bracelet, with almost disgust. It was cute. It was neat. It had more glitter.

Her fingers itched to yank it off, itched to just zap it with a bit of lightning. She sat up enough to see the drunk Erin had just poured for herself, Miho and Reiden. The Odanite eyed the flecks of light being caught in the drink.

“You know. I don’t know if it’s safe to have that inside you.” She thought for a minute and grinned, her head tilting back and depositing the load of glitter her hat caught behind her on the floor. “Is there an edible form of it? Drinks might be fun if there is.”

This whole time, she seemed almost completely oblivious to the seething woman behind the counter, only concerned with her friends.

She also seemed, oddly enough, entirely sober.

<@645466919415054357> <@232396983854301187>

Miho’s words helped Reiden’s brain finally and fully become aware of the situation. The initial surprise of the glitter followed by feeling the fear and anger had distracted him. He accepted the drink from Erinyes without question, without much thought. It just seemed like a good thing to do.

He turned his head from the small woman to look at his glass. As he did, glitter fell from his head. He knew then, and understood, that like everyone else around him, he was covered in the substance as well. He would have to clean himself off at some point, maybe stopping at his own ship before finding his way to Morgan’s. He looked at his glass and saw that, sure enough, glitter lingered at the bottom.

Karabast.

“Yeah, I just drank it without thinking, but you’re probably right,” he replied, laughing. “I think an edible form exists, but I have no clue if this is it or not. I guess I’ll just have to hope for the best since it’s too late now.”

Once again his eyes drifted to Ira. Her transformed state was…well, unnerving to say the least. It was unlike anything he’d seen before. The galaxy was big and he knew he had only seen a small part of it, but still. Then there was the fear he had felt earlier. That was another level. And the anger, too. So much anger. Even now, he could feel it. He wasn’t sure what to do or say, so he trusted his instincts and said nothing. He just sat there. And tried not to think about the glitter everywhere or that he had some inside of him now.

“Quite the legendary temper, then,” said Bril as they continued onward. Each hastened footfall taken in Ira’s direction made the next one more difficult. White-hot fury pulsed from within the Shame Corner’s bar, kicking everything into a frenzy that felt like he was marching directly into a hurricane. Somewhere deep within him, Bril wondered if this was the right thing to do. Would it be so wrong to get away, to help evacuate others and simply leave Ira to burn herself out like a living conflagration? He had his own family to think about, after all – parents, brothers, sisters, his tai'shan, his clanmates. Was it selfish of him to throw himself into danger like this?

No. What was he thinking? It was the right thing to do. Ancestors knew how many more people could be harmed, perhaps even killed, if they didn’t stop Ira now. Even Avalon and Ira herself, maybe. If his tribe – all of his friends and family – were proud of him for his actions thus far, then he had no reason to think he should do anything else. Whispers of warning crept into his mind, and he made careful note of them while pressing onward.

For Light and Life.

“Ira!” shouted Bril when they arrived, “You need to get control of yourself. You’re putting everyone here in danger.”

The zabrak extended a hand and called not just upon the Force, but the magick of his Dathomirian ancestors to do his bidding. The threads of the Force surrounded and penetrated Ira in a dizzying tapestry. He need only reach out and twist them into a knot, so that’s what he did. A sickly green ichor flowed from his hand and swirled around the rampaging Force user, carrying the faint whispers of long-dead spirits.

As the overwhelming force of angerangerangerangeranger crushed everything in its path and the bar rapidly descended into chaos, the Emissary grinned. The expression was one Reiden might remember; she’d worn it right before provoking a different emotionally unstable force of nature.

Erinyes’ Marauder’s senses flared, and a map of the bar appeared in her mind: every flying body, every tumbling bottle, every shard of broken glass. Her eyes flickered sideways, and her grin widened as she spotted two familiar sights. Two bottles, one of Consul’s Choice and one of Dark Elixir, flew into her hands.

“Miho, find cover. Muz would never forgive me if you got hurt.” She hopped off her stool and shoved the bottle of whiskey at Reiden. “Take this for courage and follow my lead,” she said, throwing her arm around his shoulder to guide him forward—and keep him from running away. With her other hand, she took two swift glugs of her pride and joy.

If you can’t make your death meaningful, you should at least make it funny.

There was a lot to like about Erinyes’ job, but there was a lot to hate, too—like having to be nice to every snivelling sycophant and boneheaded bureaucrat she met on the clock. Days and weeks went by where the Emissary desperately wanted to scream at someone or smack them upside the head, without even the diversion of a good fight, let alone a fun and challenging one.

Until now.

With one final slug of Consul’s choice—perhaps ever—Erinyes drew on the power of Dun Möch-ery and did the most absurd, most shocking, and most… Erinyes thing she could.

“**Ira!* Get a hold of yourself, you crazy bitch!” she bellowed. “*How are you gonna screw this man if touching him sets him on fire?!”

Then, she dropped her voice low and growled at Reiden. “Play along, or everyone on this station is dead.”

<@1056685516441006091> <@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187>

Reiden had been waiting to see if Ira would calm down on her own, which is why he had remained seated. Saying nothing felt like the best course of action at the time. He knew now that neither option was the right decision. He saw Bril and Avalon arrive, trying to get through to her. He was sure the Zabrak would be a good ally to have on hand for this. Then there were the other women working the bar - most likely the sisters that Ira had mentioned to him previously - joining in on the effort. He needed to do something. But what? His first thought was that the people working at the station had probably dealt with something like this before, so getting directly involved didn’t seem wise. He didn’t want to be in the way. There were other people still in the bar, and likely still evacuating as well. He could be useful there. His mind moved quickly as it went through the options. But his eyes caught more movement.

His gaze next moved to the Emissary. That smile, that look in her eyes. He’d seen it before, back on Arx during one of the festivals she had thrown. He wasn’t sure he liked it this time. Ordinarily he’d have been curious, or even happy to see what her particular brand of crazy would bring about. But now, in this situation, things were a little different. Even so, he grabbed the bottle she presented and took a swig from it.

Erinyes’ statement was bold and blunt. And it certainly got the point across, or at least it probably would have in most normal circumstances. This time, it remained to be seen. Her words of warning chilled him, but the drink took the edge off, or at least some of it.

He looked at Ira. Of course he had noticed there was something between them. At first, he thought it had been what any good bartender would do, angling for tips and returning customers. But as it continued, and she shared more information with him, he came to realize the truth. And so he gave her his comm code. They had tried to set something up, but were forced to improvise when some special eggs had other plans.

Could that be an angle to take here?

“Hey, Ira,” he started, offering a smile. “Everything’s fine now, okay? This was just a prank. Nobody’s being attacked. Sure, it made a mess, but that’s all, and it can be cleaned up. I know that you care about people, and there’s still some around here. You don’t want them to get hurt either, do you?” His mind was working quickly, wanting to seize on the moment, hoping Erinyes had provided some kind of opening to work with.

He waited a beat before pressing on. “What about the tailrings? You know, your babies? I bet right now they’re feeling this and wondering what’s going on, scared, looking for you. You know, things may not have gone as planned that night, but it was pretty fun to be there when they hatched. They’re going to need you back to your usual self.”

Socorra’s mind betrayed her.

No tears came, those ducts had long since been scorched away, melted in the fire that had taken her life once before. But her body remembered. She wept all the same.

She whispered the Old Corellian words like a prayer, slipping past her lips in barely a breath. A language too ancient to grant her mercy. With it came the litany of fears she’d locked away behind a wall mortared with shattered bones and the memory of her own screams. The fear of the unknown. Of dying unnamed. Alone. In this thread, and in every one she falls into.

But there was a fear buried deeper than all of those.

The Well.

That place without warmth. Without hope. The gaping maw beneath every timeline.

And just before that last breath, he would appear before it. He would cast her into the Well at last, cold and final. A well-earned sacrifice.

He. The shadow. The blade. The judge.

She dared not think his name.

The one who watched. Controlled. Used. The one who remained after the hands that held her changed. He had always been with her. At her shoulder. Behind her missing eye. In her breath. The one who taught her that compassion was weakness unless it could be weaponized. That attachments were liabilities. That she was to serve by any means necessary.

Who took her broken bones and teeth and said, Now build a weapon.

Over time she learned him. Understood him. Came to rely on him.

When the galaxy had moved on from Socorra, Timeros never did. He stayed, as he always had: constant, cruel, familiar. He loomed like always, a silhouette of judgment standing behind her. Watching. Waiting. The ghost that haunted every step through Dajorra’s underbelly. That matched her stride for stride in the Intelligence rooms, in the arena, in her night terrors.

Now she shattered minds, unleashed horrors too terrifying for the worst of enemies, and wielded fear like armor all around her, just as he had taught her.

That terror bloomed in her gut, answering fear with fear. Her pulse surged. Her hands twitched. She clutched the feeling like a steel blanket. Familiar. Safe.

It numbed the grief.

Wyn had been her tether once, her anchor. Her laughter. Her emotional support animal.

That was the fear buried deepest of all. That she would reach up from the Well …and find no one there.

So she reached to stifle the scream building inside. But she was too far. Too distanced. She couldn’t know if the reach had landed, or if it ever would.

Instead.

Small arms around her neck and a warmth that cut through.

“Errything will be o-kay,” said a small, solemn voice.

Socorra raggedly exhaled. Her arms curled around Weyne, shielding him, tucking him close…as if by holding him near, she could shield him not just from the world, but from herself. The fear did not vanish. But it paused enough. Enough to ride the wave, not become it.

Nhar’quis, the youngest of the tailrings and the smallest that were gathering on a high perch was deep in debate with his new companions.

He told them proudly that he was from Socorro, where their species had first spread their wings.

His name, given by his mother, meant “Dark Ashes” in Olys Corellisi.

Her name, he added, was Socorra, which meant “Scorched Earth,” like the Black Sands she came from.

The other tailrings, distant cousins to him at best, chirped with amusement.

“No, no,” they said. “You mean Socorro. You’ve got it all backwards.”

“It is Socoraaahh, not Socorrooo,” Nhar’quis insisted, stretching his wings and tail for emphasis.

They clicked their teeth and muttered that it was a silly name anyway, then went back to gossiping about the station mynocks.

Suddenly, Nhar’quis froze.

His head jerked to the side, his scaly body tense. He tilted, listening.

And then he screamed.

A sharp, shrill cry burst from his tiny frame, echoing through the station.

“Mother is in trouble!” he cried. “Follow me!”

With a flap of black wings, the little tailring took off.

A few others stirred, uncertain—then lifted into the air behind him.

Reiden returned Ira’s gaze, giving her a brief nod and a small smile. He watched as she walked off then slowly made his way to the bar. His hands gripped the edge of the bar as he leaned over it, letting out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He snatched the bottle of whiskey again and grabbed a clean glass, pouring some into it. He stared at the amber colored contents and then drank it. A quick glance was cast around the bar, taking in the scene.

“Yeah,” he replied to Avalon, a little shakily. “I think so.”

A gentle exhale left Bril’s lips when Ira finally regained her senses. He briefly looked to everyone gathered there, some faces he recognized, others who were new to him. Everyone looked to be in one piece, thankfully. “Good,” he said while patting Reiden on the shoulder as he stepped passed. His eyes found Erinyes’ next, to whom he nodded as if to say, “Good to see you again.” If only it had been under better circumstances; although, he figured you had to take what you could get in this chaotic part of the galaxy.

“This was a mess,” he muttered to himself while stepping over to one of the mechanical glitter bombs that had shaken loose from its affixment during Ira’s rampage. “And I intend to uncover who was responsible.”

As soon as Bril touched the glitter bomb’s metal casing, the images came flooding in. A woman and her daughter, whom he recognized as Kirra, placing several of these contemptible contraptions throughout the station. The echo ended with this one’s placement in the rafters above their head with the Force. When he came to, his fist tightened around the glitter bomb’s casing so tightly that the metal cracked. Without saying a word, he stomped off in the direction of the woman responsible. Her presence burned brightly in the Force, and now that he had her “scent”, she wouldn’t shake him off the trail easily.

Erinyes sighed, and resisted the urge to plunk herself down on one of the barstools. “You did good, Reiden.” She patted the Palpatine on the shoulder and sipped from the bottle of tsiraki. “Look after Miho while you’re waiting for Ira, yeah? I’m gonna help with disaster relief.”

Then, for once, she left the bar and made her way to the Golden Griddle. Inside, she flagged down the nearest server. “Hey, do you have any caf filters? Like, the ones as big as someone’s head? You can use ‘em to get glitter out of water.”

“Oh, uh, and a couple of buckets.”

<@244244163002892288> <@227653769842655233> <@232396983854301187>

“She’s calmed down. Or is calming down. She isn’t glowing or setting things on fire with a touch anymore. Avalon and Reiden are watching her now,” Erinyes explained. “Is there another bigger problem that I don’t know about?”

Erinyes shrugged. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know.” Not wanting to antagonise anyone, and not really interested in doing manual labour, she left the Golden Griddle staff alone and set back off for the bar.

During the journey back to the bar, Erinyes noticed something odd—or rather, someone odd. The unnaturally cheerful Miraluka with the cybernetic limbs tickled something in her memory. A story she’d heard one time, about… what was it again?

Andypants!

When the memory came back, Erinyes burst into a fit of giggles, no doubt aided by the steadily emptying bottle of tsiraki. “Hey! You’re the one who called Anders ‘Andypants’!” she called out. If the Miraluka and her daughter turned, Erinyes would wave, momentarily forgetting how unhelpful visual cues were.

“How did you get caught up in…” She gestured to, well, everything.

“Oh!”

Oh.

“Yeah, that was… exciting, but what would life be without some excitement? It just gets so boring not having to face an eldritch existential threat that wants to annihilate you and everyone you love every day!”

On one hand, Erinyes had to admire the Miraluka’s determination to walk her path in life—a value she decidedly shared.

On the other… well, even Erinyes tried to limit her suicidal absurdity to times where it wouldn’t make the situation worse.

“Ooh, being able to predict your lectures must come in handy. I’ve been trying to schedule mine so they’re all on the same day, but it usually doesn’t work.”

You wouldn’t expect it from their styles, but it seemed like the two were getting along famously.

Reiden looked over at Acedia. He didn’t quite know how to respond. Truthfully, he didn’t know what made him special, or even if he was. Could it have been the connection he and Ira had made? Was it what Erinyes had said? Or maybe his own words? It could have been Ira’s own feelings fighting their way to the surface. Or any combination of those things. There was no way to know.

He watched the bartender depart. He made a move to join her. He wanted to check in on Ira, see if there was anything he could do, help in some way or try to reassure her. But he stopped short and sat back on the bar stool, shaking his head. No. She had been through a lot and probably needed some space. He had no idea of the things she had gone through, but it must have been something serious to provoke a response like that. That anger, the fear he had felt, that didn’t just come from nowhere. He didn’t want to presume to know what she needed or wanted.

Her people were here and they would most likely know what to do. It was best to leave it to them. But even so, the feeling gnawed at him from the inside.

He stopped his thinking and took hold of his glass, draining the contents. He was glad that it had been upside down when the glitter erupted everywhere and was thus spared from contamination. He wasn’t so sure about the bottle he had poured from, but it was a small consolation, and a cold one at that, given all that had happened afterward.

Something was at the back of the small Odanite’s mind. Something familiar, but different. Wrong? Confusing? Different. She closed her eyes trying to find the sense of wrongness behind her, the ripple that kept trying to catch her attention. She reeled the thread in, her focus being drawn to the woman on the floor, to the mind that…

Too fast, the undertow of emotion, the current of pain engulfed her, swallowed her, trapped her. Breathe, her mind screamed as she fell, splintering, fracturing, spinning into the mind of someone alien. Memories ran through her, emotions trampled her, feelings scarred her.

Time passes differently in memory, differently still in someone else’s. Hadn’t she learned by now not to try to connect with people like this? Anyone outside of the family was dangerous. Their experiences were dangerous. How many times would she have to learn this lesson? Well, the young Odanite was more than a Councillor, more than a Princess, more than a Keibatsu. She was compassion in the face of suffering, empathy in the face of terror. For a time, the fear overwhelmed her, the pain made her its lover, the trauma made her its home.

Distantly, she felt the blood trickle from her nose, watched it drip to the counter and then the floor as she turned violet eyes towards the Erinos. Hate for the weak, hate for the pain, hate for the hole, hate for the tormentors, even hate for the white-haired girl.

Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. HatehatehatehateHATEHATE. She had been trained for this. Had been trained to be lethality incarnate. Trained from the moment she had been taken from her family to be a weapon. Trained to be a killer. Trained to enjoy it. And enjoy it she did. The anger of her own past, the deep, black reservoir of rage she normally operated from, everything threatened to boil over. Threatened to react to the pain that felt so real. Felt so re…

And then she was herself again, the rubber band snap back into herself nearly knocked her from her feet as she stood and walked towards Socorra. Unnoticed tears ran down the Odanite’s cheeks as she walked towards someone who smelled of home, someone who resonated with…something. She had no sisters. Did this woman know something she did not? It was strange.

The new memories stuck to her like warm tar, each one a new scar on her soul. Each blow one that she herself had taken. Not taken? Miho - Miho? - knew she would have to find some way to purge them since they weren’t her own. Maybe she would help. But, getting help from that woman was like making a deal with a devil. But, perhaps this would make whatever the deal was worth it.

She knelt down beside Socorra, taking in the soft smell of home that lightly scented the air around her. A smell from her childhood. A smell of comfort. A smell of peace. Violet eyes closed for a moment, allowing the sense memory to take her away from the edge a little. She wiped the blood from her upper lip with the back of a slender fingered hand and focused her gaze on Socorra and the child. There was something about her that sang in her mind, sang in her blood. She tilted the wide-brimmed hat back as she measured the weeping woman for a moment.

Curiously, carefully, cautiously, Miho reached out her bloodied hand towards Socorra, another anchor in the dark. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

<@141239709291511808>

Reiden heard then saw the tailring and smiled warmly, feeling the boop against his hand. He reached out and attempted to gently brush some of the glitter off of the poor creature before realizing it was a futile effort. A proper and more thorough cleaning would be needed later. Instead, he scooped him up and cradled him against his chest, lightly running a finger down his head and along his neck.

“Hey, Olive,” he spoke softly. “Shh, it’s okay. I bet that was pretty confusing and scary for you, huh? But it’s all over now. I’ve got you.”

He caught Miho’s movement. Something troubled him but he wasn’t sure what. But then she seemed like herself. He heard her words, her offer of help. She seemed okay now. That was a relief. So many people evacuated, but not all made it out. Others would be needing help.

He gently moved Olive to perch on his shoulder as he looked around and assessed the scene, seeing where he could be of use next.

Socorra didn’t move at first.

The woman knelt beside her, slow and deliberate, like someone approaching a dying thing that might still bite.

Bandages wrapped one arm and shoulder, tugging stiffly against the clothes wrinkled as if dragged from an old duffle. Fresh scarring carved raw, angry lines around her missing eye, the skin too new, too tight.

Closer now. Too close. Beneath the dry scent of sacred wood lingered stale air, old antiseptic, the sweat of strangers. The hospital clung to her skin no matter how many layers were pulled over it.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

The words floated past her, meaningless.

Socorra looked up and froze, her brow pulling tight in something between confusion and dread.

Too young. Too familiar.

Not a sister. Not a cousin. Not even close.

A daughter.

She looked like his daughter.

A daughter that didn’t exist.

The resemblance, even the signature of blood, was immediate. Undeniable. But wrong.

Socorra had served Ashen since a Journeyman, entrusted with missions no one else even knew existed, walked through time at his side.

He would have trusted her to know. Unless he hadn’t known. Unless someone else—

She caught the spiral, and pulled Weyne in closer, shielding him from the other woman. Her free hand slid instinctively toward one of her many blades, brushing a hidden hilt without thinking.

You don’t know what you’re reaching for, she thought savagely.

“Who are you?”

Some things wore familiar faces to get close.

The thought barely finished before a shrill, furious cry tore through the stale air. A black shape dove from above — claws flashing, wings flaring wide — a miniature storm of rage and black sands.

Socorra didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. She simply stared past the woman, blank and waiting, as her Tailring slammed down onto her battered shoulder guard with a furious hiss, wings mantling as if daring anyone to come closer.

Nhar'quis curled tightly against her, scales rippling, molten gold eyes locked on the stranger beside her and ignored the boy his mother was protecting.

Together, they watched and waited, unblinking.

Mihoshi never moved, never stopped having a gentle smile as she spoke first to the child and then to the woman. “Don’t worry, everything will be just fine. You’ll see.”

Violet eyes went back to Socorra having left for only a moment. Her mind reached out and touched Socorra’s in a wave, cresting and then receding, but in that touch she presented who she was, presented what she was. The small shadow beside the Lion. The blade in the dark that had been trained to perfection. The lost girl who never had a chance. Dreams of carbon and pain and horror and death. Finally, the wandering gambler who wanted nothing more than a good fight, good food, good company, and a warm bed.

She was careful not to show this stranger too much, no one could be trusted with everything except her brother. Her smile became even more gentle, her soft, musical voice taking on a tone one used for the infirm or the mentally distraught.

“I am what I am. I am who I am.” She said slowly, a finger on her other hand touching the small medallion bearing the Keibatsu dragon, their family crest, peeking out just beneath her scarf. “My name is Mihoshi Keibatsu.”

Only then did she spare a look for the tailring on her shoulder, giving the small protector another smile before turning back to Socorra. “Come, let us get up off the floor. We can have proper introductions, food and drinks.”

<@244244163002892288> <@141239709291511808>

Reiden had caught the green eyed woman staring at him. He wasn’t sure what to make of it so decided to say nothing. Things were already tense enough, emotions still running high. Whatever the issue was, either the woman would say something or perhaps it just wasn’t important enough. He was hoping for the latter, especially given all that had happened. But his attention was elsewhere, and he didn’t catch what was said next when the two women began talking.

Look after Miho…

He looked back for a moment to watch the Odanite. Despite Erinyes’ words, she seemed fine. A marked difference from before the glitter and Ira. It made him curious, but that was something for later, if ever. He didn’t want to pry and, honestly, he wasn’t sure it overly mattered in the end. She was with a woman and a small boy. The boy, he recognized, was the one that had been handing out the bracelets. But it wasn’t just him. Although his vantage point was poor and partially obscured by both Miho and the boy, the woman looked familiar to him as well. From the raven hair with silver streaks and the bronzed skin, he knew her from somewhere, or at least knew of her. He racked his brain for a moment and realized who it was. Although they had never met, he felt sure that she was Socorra Erinos. A previous Herald and former Consul of Clan Vizsla.

More voices drew his attention once more. He turned back to the bar, the other bartender approaching. Avaritia, he recalled from a previous trip.

“It’s nice to formally meet you, despite everything,” he replied as he shook the offered hand, turning to gently shush Olive, smiling. “It’s fine, Olive, nothing to worry about. I’m okay now, thank you. I think I’m all set. I’m more worried about the people that didn’t evacuate, and of course Ira as well. Will she be okay?”

Socorra didn’t move. Not yet.

The woman’s voice was soft, her smile patient, and maybe it was real. Maybe.

Her eye slid downward, catching glimpse of the necklace under the scarf: the familiar dragon, coiled and fierce. It would be so easy to believe.

She shifted Weyne more securely onto her waist, holding him tightly to her and away from Miho.

The Tailring at her shoulder hissed quietly, molten gold eyes never leaving Miho’s face.

Socks lifted her free hand, slow and deliberate, burn-scarred palm up between them.

Not a threat. A request.

Names were easy to give. Blood was harder to fake.

Her voice was quiet, but steady. “Let me hold,” she said, indicating the necklace.

Minutes ago

Tahiri’s jaw could’ve dropped to the floor, had her nerves not kept every muscle in her body as tight as a spring loaded trap. Before she answer Atyiru’s casual question, she heard and saw several staffers begin to usher people out. Taking a quick observation, and watching as the several people left.

Then she had seen that Bril, and an Echanti woman, had run in the direction of where the rage was coming from. Every muscle in her body wanted to follow, to help out, and protect him if need be. However, from the Terror she was feeling, she knew that he would be trying his best to defuse the situation, and having a Sith standing there probably wasn’t going to help the situation. Besides, if she felt anything like what had happened during the blizzard, she would be there instantly.

Present

Before she could help with anything, it was like the switch had been turned off, as easily as the fear and sense of terror had overcome the station, it was now gone. The Elders body relaxed, though her senses were still on high alert. When Erinyes came over she listened, while feeling the ripple of thought from her Tailring. Sending a pulse of calm demeanor back and asked that once Eeth was done with her friends to come back as they would probably be leaving soon. Then as she glanced around the entire area, her eyes still sharp, but not seeking out threats this time.

“Atyiru, did you only bring Kirra? Or is Weyne here too?” that’s when she spotted Bril. Sighing as she knew exactly what was going to happen, especially seeing the manner of his walk, and sensing his demeanor that was exuding from him. She allowed a small smirk, before going a little serious. “And I believe you’re correct in the assumption of a lecture, as here comes my godson. This will be interesting.”

<@244244163002892288> <@1056685516441006091>

Miho wondered if she would ever actually get used to pre-emptory or unusual requests. She considered Socorra for a moment before she retracted the offered hand and lifted the back of her scarf to access the clasp that held the necklace in place. It was a simple hook clasp, but it still required both hands and a moment to get undone.

It came free and pooled in the Odanite’s hand for a moment before she placed the cool metal into Socorra’s hand.

The medallion was new, no more than a decade old. But, it had been in constant contact with the small woman since it was made. The residual connection to artisan existed, but the connection to Miho was the strongest. The small woman released the chain, allowing It to pool in Socorra’s hand as she watched the tailring who continued its soft hissing.

Made of finely crafted silver instead of highly polished wood, was an oddity in the first place. The artisan had made it without understanding the icon it bore, probably safer that way. The man who gave it to her, a green-eyed warrior. A brother. Her protector. Her savior.

Flash.

The feeling of pride as this warrior deemed her fit to fight and continue the training he gave her. The feeling of sadness that grew inside her when she cried herself to sleep at night.

Flash.

The joy of reunion with their eldest brother, a man with eyes burned black. A man who stood above them, guarded them, gave them a home once again.

Flash.

The fields of K'hamar'a, the azure blood of cultists on the ground, the blood of their allies on the ground. The immobile strength of the eldest of them as he held her back. The fierce joy as she broke his hold and bathed in the blood of those deemed enemies of their family. The ecstasy of combat, the thrill of the chase, the rage and sadness that finally had a target to be vented on.

The smell of burnt ozone as the sky exploded.

Flash.

Older now, a slave. A pet. Meat for the Master. Lessons. Pain. Rage. Beatings. Pain. Red. Lessons. The first scars that created the network down the entire right side from scalp to the heel of her foot. She had learned to admire the scars, like lines of a broken vessel repaired by an expert hand. Kintsugi doll.

Flash.

The small assassin, now a young woman, standing to the side of a burning building, the heat of the fire reminding her of home. The screams of children inscribing themselves on her very soul. Sounds no one would ever forget. And under the reminder of home, sadness. RAGE. Until now, the flavor had always been the same with hints of other emotions.

The weave parts slightly, the undercurrent of her life, a total and eclipsing loneliness.

Flash.

The Autumnal Festival. The bar being run by a very attractive pirate queen. She had always favored the company of other woman ever since she left The Master. Loneliness told her it was just a fool’s hope. She had always been left behind. Abandoned. Forgotten. Discarded.

And then, the presence. In her mind, in her heart, in her soul. The presence she had never thought to feel again. Time froze more totally than it had every time she had gone into the carbon as she turned to face him. He looked older, but still the same. His neatly trimmed mustache and goatee, black eyes that took in everything, the stance of one who knew his power.

Him. Brother. Eldest among them. The Scion. And he too was frozen. The moment locking them both in disbelief and cautious happiness. Home. Erinyes trying to break the tension with a joke. Drinks and companionship. Reiden somewhere nearby, a bird-shaped Zuza talking with her brother.

Loneliness. Life had moved on in ways she still couldn’t understand. For her, events of a decade ago were almost three decades gone. A life that had been stolen from her, but one she was reclaiming.

The connection fades away, leaving the small Odanite still crouching before Socorra and Weyne.

“I am what I am. The Lost One.” Her soft voice said slowly. “No more, no less.”

<@141239709291511808>

Bril’s presence in the Force, normally like the perpetual smolder of coals within an Iridonian fire pit, burned brighter now. But he tempered those flames lest they grow beyond what he could handle, for he was ever-vigilant in his efforts to guard his mind against his darkest impulses; thin was the line between a champion of virtue and misguided zealot, especially while one teetered precariously between the Light and Dark.

The Shadesworn’s godmother and first master might have expected her presence to have a calming affect on her him, but he made no effort to change his posture nor the indignation that coruscated from his mind for all sensitive passersby to sense.

“Do you know how many people could have gotten hurt in your little stunt?” he said, glaring, “How many lives you endangered today? I’ve read your dossier, and I’ve even lived through one of your Echoes. I had hoped someone with your gifts would be more mindful of the potential consequences of your actions, but maybe they’ve made you clueless instead. Out of touch.”

<@375384499770359819>

Surprised by the response, Reiden’s eyes glanced at the door at the back. He still wasn’t sure, both about the right thing to do and invading what he could only assume was possibly, at least in typical circumstances, more of a private area for the staff.

He stood then paused for a moment, facing the bartender. “Are you sure?” he inquired. “I don’t want to get in the way or intrude.”

He let out a soft laugh. “More in the way, I suppose, back there. I wanted to make sure she had her space. I know that’s what I would want if I were in her place and something like this happened. But you make a good point.” He looked at Olive, giving the tailring a gentle pat. “I guess we should go back there, shouldn’t we?”

Watching the interaction between Atyiru and Bril, Erinyes sneezed, then sipped from her bottle of tsiraki.

Earlier

Eeth'Mireth listened to the young dragon, Nhar'quis, and agreed that they should help. She knew her own mother could take care of herself, so if she could help protect her new friend’s mother, that was a noble cause. Spreading her dark wings, she flew after him, sharp eyes searching for any threats as the she followed Nhar'quis’ hurried flight.

Present

Eeth'Mireth had seen the last moments within the Seven Sins bar before the wave of Terror finally subsided, the tall Zabrak the only one she recognized. the who she knew as the Ever Excited one, although he wasn’t as happy as usual, the man was more angry. The rest of the people she didn’t know, though a few others seemed kinda familiar, however the female Tailrings’ attention turned to who Nhar'quis had gone to. The woman holding a child protectively, while another woman talked with her.

“Stay with your mother,” She softly squeaked and flapped her wings a little from above. “If the woman makes any move to harm you attack from there, and I’ll attack from above.” Knowing she was too small to crush the woman, she still knew that her strong wings and sharp talons and fangs would do enough damage for them to get away. She sent thoughts to her own mother letting her know that was helping her friend, and after getting confirmation that she could till they were ready to leave, getting a very calm vibe from her mother.

<@141239709291511808>

The medallion sat in her palm, heavy with the weight of all those memories. The visions came hard and fast. Blood and fire. Joy twisted into rage. Loneliness.

And somewhere beneath it all, a brother. One she knew well.

Her breath caught. Not at Miho. At the quiet grief she felt pressed into every inch of the chain.

Ashen must have mourned her in silence. For years, for…decades.

She closed her fingers around the metal.

“He thought you were gone,” she said softly. “He carried that.”

She opened her hand again and held the necklace out. Socorra’s eye lingered on Miho for the first time without calculation.

“You been through fire, You stay standing. That enough for now.”

“Socorra Erinos,” she said, her hand not offered, but already outstretched.

Danger had not disappeared, but was muted. She had no sleeves for a hidden blade. Nhar’quis stopped hissing, wings twitching once before folding in.

Reiden shook his head. “That’s not why I’m here. I wanted to check in, to make sure you were okay. I–” he paused, searching for the right words. He let out a sigh and took a few steps closer. “I was worried about you. Look, I don’t know if I’d be of any help, but I wanted to see if there was anything I could do. And I found Olive, or I guess I should say he found me. Poor guy is in need of a bath after being doused in something, not to mention all the glitter. He seems to be doing better now though.”

Reiden failed to suppress a shrug. “I’ve been accused of as much before, and it will probably happen again. But no, I’m not kidding. You could have, but you didn’t. And even though I haven’t known you that long, you don’t seem like the type to just go around and kill people for no reason, not if you can help it.”

He stood his ground. “You care about people, I know you do. I’ve seen it. Ever since that first time I stopped here and stepped foot in your bar. The fact that you’re having this kind of reaction only proves it more. I’ll leave if that’s what you want, but it won’t change anything. It doesn’t mean that I’m not worried, that I’m not still hoping that you’ll be okay, even if it takes time. I’ll even take Olive, but only for a little while because I’m not sure you really mean that and I know how much you would miss each other.”