Session export: The Shame Corner: 006

Miho stepped out of The Strix and looked around for a moment as her twin shadows exited right behind her. “You two just stay with the ship. If I need anything, I’m sure you’ll both know before I do.”

She held up a wrist that had a simple gold band around it. It had been a midwinter gift from the Twins, Adenn and Xin, who were frequently unhappy at their principal telling them to bugger off. So, she now had a homing beacon attached to her that monitored just about every vital sign she possessed to a somewhat maddening degree.

The Nagai sisters looked down at their mistress and shrugged in tandem, leaning against the side of the ship.

If they leaned any harder, I wonder if they’d knock it over. The small woman wondered spitefully.

Turning towards the Corner, Miho wondered if she would run into Leena and Hekate again. It had been rude of her to leave so quickly the last time. But, one more person thinking she had no manners was probably fine. Chances were probably low they would meet again.

“I need some caf.”

A pair of near-humans stumbled through the Shame Corner store, one looking a bit more inebriated with an arm wrapped around the shoulders of the other. Yeoni Grivna was still groggy, limbs sluggish and requiring his full attention to move forward with some degree of normalcy. He wasn’t much taller than Luka but certainly bulkier than the lithe Human, and his off balanced steps certainly swayed their path through the shelves of homogeneously packaged wares.

The Kiffar’s clothes looked pre-worn. The white dress shirt haphazardly and lazily buttoned was riddled with wrinkles, and the nerfhide and wool sweater jacket had its navy blue collar popped up. His beige slacks were covered in nexu fur with a couple large scratch marks at the pockets. The only things neat about him was his well kept accessories and his hair was plaited tight and neatly, braids still pulled back into a ponytail.

The toe of his shoe caught the lip of a metal cord cover, tripping him forward briefly. A weight shifted against his side, helping quickly to steady him on his feet once again. The cybernetic fingers knotted into the back of his shirt tightened and tensed, the fist hidden under the jacket he wore. The warmth pressed against him was enticing. He murmured low as he leaned in to sink his nose into those dark curls, seeking their infused spice and earthen scent. But he stopped himself, collecting some ounce of composure to maintain a silently offered illusion of space he only just considered– whatever that could be when walking side by side like so.

Yeo focused back on their surroundings and on not looking like a sluggish hungover drunk. He exhaled and glanced to his right, pausing as he caught the enormous disproportionate bugged out eyes of a cartoonified reptilian figurine stared at him – the only one among a shelf of thirty. He blinked and clumsily turned the Tailring decor with a knuckle before Luka continued guiding them deeper in after a larger group passed by. .

Merchandise, fudge, jerky and other foodstuff soon gave way to the beauty supplies and toiletries that tend to herald the pharmacy section in most stations like this. It took him a lingering few seconds to realize this and what his partner likely sought after.

“Won’t find that here,” he spoke up simply, assuming.

His gaze flicked to a sign high up on a wall in the distance labeled The Golden Griddle Diner. “Let’s get something to eat.” He added to explain with a gesture and a grunt, “Carb load. Metabolism.”

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Luka shifted Yeoni’s weight on their shoulders and looked to him with a narrowed eye. “How do you kn-” No, of course he knew. Still their soft brown eyes swept over the pharmacy shelves, just to be certain, before they turned their gaze toward the diner in question. “Guess there aren’t too many around. I could sit you down somewhere.” There were still things they needed from the pharmacy, but it would be a lot easier to navigate without another body to deal with.

“C'mon,” Luka said as they guided Yeoni down to the diner. Their gait certainly wasn’t graceful, and they bore a bright smile and gratitude to each fellow customer they passed, but they managed to reach the nearest table without a complete spill. Luka pushed Yeoni into the booth seat and sat down beside him, pressing in close to the hip.

They let out their breath in a woosh, then brushed their curls back from their eyes. “Right, okay. Food. Fooood…” They brushed down their chest, searching for pockets that were in a different outfit entirely. They pulled off their cloak, and with increasing urgency they rifled through the pockets of their worn overalls. With a relieved sigh, they finally pulled out a credit chip. “Right. So, what do you want? It’s on me.”

“Ships too small.”

Ambers eyes rolled, not even trying to hide the act of disrespect from Maxim. Not that he reacted much to it.

“And just what makes you the expert in ships? I thought you were the one that had to get ferried around because you don’t know anything about them.” Her words were sharp, but drawn out in a way that gave hint to how she enjoyed prodding at him. “Besides, the cargo bay is anything but small. The dimensions fit.”

“No.” The gruff voice answered simply over a cup of black caf. Cold all white eyes peered across the table at her, boring into her if she had made the mistake of meeting them. “The dimension is fine. But this is a public ship, it’ll be much harder to pay off anyone that catches sight or sound. Drakul needs more privacy.”

Clean cut nails tapped at the table in a sharp beat. Amber was quite annoyed at how often he made good points. Her face turned from him, expressionless as it scanned the cafe. “Fine. If it’s not to Drakul’s liking, then I suppose it will never work, hm?” She shot him a sour glance, one that she had no fear of showing him. Her palm pressed flat against the table as she frowned for a moment and stood, leaving Maxim to his caf and bacon.

“I’ll look around for a better ship. Keep your-“ she paused as he tapped the screen of his compad very matter of factly. Her eyes were daggers that met with a calm gaze, a greasy piece of meat speared on the end of a fork and raised into the air

“No. Dirty. Cargo spaces. Oil fumes are bad for him.” The meat wobbled as the fork was used to punctuate his words.

She spun on a heel, turning her back to the Arkanian before she could react in any visible way. Kadnikovs. She thought to herself with gritted teeth as she walked, an eye kept open for anyone that might seem to have their own ship

Yeo sunked into the corner of the booth near immediately with a relieved sigh, arms lounging back on the seat and head reclining against the window pane. Eyes closed for a moment, he settled into the feeling of being bracketed into the booth, hip to hip. The stirring beside him drew his attention though, and he made the effort to lean forward. His bearded cheek pressed into his hand. Lazily, he watched Luka search, content to wait and see what they were looking for. His gaze idly if hazily taking note of their body mannerism and breathing before those brown eyes met his once more. The Kiffar just held the contact, considering.

“Luka~” Yeo drawled low, giving his partner a soft yet serious look. “You…do not have to. I can–”

He cut off, brow furrowing…His wallet was with Ryddus. Frack.

“Thank you,” he smiled lightly, the emerald line hook and dot inked on his right cheek shifting under where his missing glasses usually sat. “Eggs, whole grain bread, greens, and a fruit smoothie. No caf.”

It had been a while since she had any time to herself, if she was being honest. As she closed the door on the ‘fresher and sat down, she sighed. She didn’t even need to use the thing, she just needed a few moments. It felt like they had been in the transport for months now, even though she knew it had only been a few days. The boss’ transport was well appointed, comfortable and approaching luxurious, but it felt like the droids were attached to her at the hip. A million questions, constantly seeking her attention, her validation, her…she didn’t even really know anymore. Was this what motherhood felt like, she wondered. If so, it reinforced her decision to not have any flesh and blood children those years ago.

Leena paused, leaning back until her lekku touched cold tiles and shocked her senses. Involuntarily, she made a disgusted face and bolted forward, a hand darting to her pocket to get a tissue to wipe the appendages. And in a ‘fresher, even worse. Even as clean as the Corner’s often immaculate restrooms were, she still got an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She pulled the tissue back wincing as she looked at it, half expecting a greasy residue or something equally revolting. Thankfully, nothing. She let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding as her mind mapped out a path to the sanitation station, the quick-evaporating sanitizer fluid fresh in her mind. The brainfreeze she would get from using it would be about miserable, but it was less onerous than her thoughts would be thinking about what manner of wasting disease or virulent fleshrotting bacteria that might be colonizing the skin on her lekku right now.

“Ugh.” Leena grunted, shaking her head as if that would throw either the thought or the bacteria off. Standing, she hit the flush, wasting the water in an effort to seem like she hadn’t been just hogging a stall without a real need or that she was an unhygenic nerfherder. The door swung open at her fingertips, the full length door still impressing her, even after a half dozen iterations. Privacy, true privacy in a place such as this, was rare in the universe. It was a more than welcome amenity on the hyperlanes they often travelled, just as important as the snacks, the good caf, or the ability to get out of the transport and stretch out for a few minutes before getting back on with it.

A few steps, hot water, soap and then a handful of sanitizer later, she emerged, the back of her head and lekku glistening in the flourescent lights near the beverage station. How many flavors of carbonated saccharine the people needed, she’d never know, but it was a sight to see how many the place offered. Leena shivered as the stuff evaporated on the back of her head, the chill contracting blood vessels and the starts of a headache starting to settle in. Perhaps a hot drink would be better.

“Feeling better?” Hekate sidled over, their movements nearly silent, except the crinkle of celloplast packaging. Bags of sugary snack, ronto jerky and something marked tailring rings threatened to fall out of their arms as Hekate stopped in front of her.

Leena just nodded, trying not to rub the back of her head and make the problem worse. “Hey, did you see those little handwarmer things they have?” She asked hopefully.

Hekate nodded back, the lights in their eyes seeming to pivot to their left as they recalled where. Leena managed a half smile and headed that way with purpose. Perhaps wrapped in one of those instant towels and applied to the back of her head would help, too. “Then a cup of caf.” She muttered to herself.

“To go, or for here?” Hekate’s tripartite chorus chirped with equal shades inquisitiveness and hope.

Leena’s carefully painted eyebrows went up in question, then realized she had said those words out loud as she found the display of handwarmers. “Uhhhh, I suppose we have time for both.”

Whatever noise Hekate made next seemed joyful, but also sounded like wrath and fear. Leena tilted her head, looking at them, debating if something was wrong, or if it was just more voice artifacts. Hekate picked up the concern quickly, the aperture at their ‘mouth’ opening as the LEDs of their eyes pitched skyward. “I mean, it is the best caf in the sector.”

The low drawl of their name gave Luka a shiver down their spine, causing them to tug down long sleeves over goosebumps. They leaned back in their seat and crossed their arms over their chest, poised to argue, but Yeoni took their offer to pay. Good.

“Got it,” Luka replied. “Eggs, bread, veg, smoothie. No caf. No caf?” Their eyes narrowed and they looked to Yeoni with a tilt of their head. However, once again they swiftly accepted his expertise in the matter. “No caf. Coming right up, darling~!”

They leaned in to give a quick peck of a kiss against the Kiffar’s cheek. Once closer, they added in a whisper, “Can I trust you won’t wander off?” A weariness tinged their tone, and their body was tense as they leaned into his shoulder.

Miho wandered about the station, looking at the different items on her way to the self-service area. The small woman almost seemed to fade in and out of sight as the larger patrons around her moved in relation to her.

Making it to the counter, she looked at each of the large urns that sat waiting for people to accept their molten black goodness.

Being mostly a tea drinker, Miho stared almost lost at the offerings. “Well, I suppose I can just pick whichever one each time I come until I find one I like…”

She seemed to be largely oblivious to her surroundings, intent on making a choice while also, sadly, making no choice at all.

“Start with the dark.” A voice came from above and behind her. A rather tall woman in a clean suit stood, arms folded behind her back. Pointed ears poked through dark hair that shone with red natural highlight. Silver iris peered down at her, surrounded by black sclera. Her voice was as soft, but sharp around the edges. Her mocha skin was flawless, only altered by subtle makeup on her lips and eyelashes. A strange spiral scar was on the front of her throat, above the simple tie of her suit.

“If you hate it, you know to start at the other extreme. If you simply don’t like it, you start in the middle.” She spoke logically, eyes flickering to the urns. Her determined expression betrayed her own experience facing this conundrum down quite a while ago.

Miho looked behind her - and up - and smiled rather brilliantly at the helpful woman.

“Thank you,” was the soft reply in oddly accented basic. “I think I’ll try it that way then.”

She collected one of the smaller cups and filled it most of the way with the steaming liquid. The dark roasted coffee’s aroma hit her the second she opened the valve on the urn. Rich, dark, wondrous. Without adding anything to lessen the sharp flavor of the roast, Miho put one of the lids on her cup. “I wonder if I should get a cup for the twins. They like this more than I do because their mother is a bit of an addict.”

With a shrug, she decided against it. Not only did the small woman not know how they took their coffee she decidedly didn’t have nearly enough hands to juggle three steaming cups.

“I’m Miho, by the way. And you, neighbor?”

A chuff escaped Yeo and his brow raised at the kiss and pressure against his shoulder. He shifted beneath Luka and tilted his head more to flash them one of his charming light grins that apparently ran in the Grivna family genes. “I am confident, without doubt, I wouldn’t get far if I did–”

A yawn interrupted his attempt at his usual cheekiness, followed by a reminding hitch in his chest. The Kiffar leaned back into the booth’s corner and rubbed his face. When he looked back at Luka, his hand dropped into his lap and so did his smile. Hard, firm dark umber eyes locked with theirs.

“I have no intent to leave,” he answered again, his tone an undeniable conviction, an iron promise. He sat up and put an arm on the seat’s back beside the Human, pressing closer himself. A pause before he spoke lowly with a light hum, gaze flicking down and up to meet theirs as if taking a bit of pleasure in their joint situation. “Be sure to get some food yourself. Energy replenishing, and appearances, mm?”

She bends at the waist slightly, head dipping in a bow. “приятно познакомиться” she spoke her greeting in clear Arkanian before straightening again. “I am Amber. And though I cannot confirm our status as neighbors, am looking for some neighborly assistance.”

She paused here, strange eyes flashing around the room as she gets her own cup automatically. “I have cargo that needs to move. Not much, just a single crate. Payment will be made ahead of time.” Her eyes settled again on Miho, intense gaze scanning the smaller woman’s eyes for something

Reiden watched through viewport as the droid brain piloting his ship found its way to an open berth. Once it touched down, he made his way toward the ramp, which descended as he approached. Walking down it and stepping off, he pressed a button on his computerized gauntlet and the ramp retracted and sealed behind him. His various jobs had been keeping him busy of late and he was glad to arrive at a place where he knew he could safely rest and not be bothered. He needed some time to just recharge. And also to just not be on his ship. It was comfortable, but he felt like he’d seen too much of it. Although bounty hunting helped to fill the time and earn some credits, it necessitated travel more often than not. Maybe it was time to limit the scope to the Caperion system and stay closer to home, or even widen it to include the Arx system as well since he was there often enough.

He shook his head to clear the thoughts away. There would be time for all that later. Right now, however, he wanted to relax. He recalled the drinks that the Seven Deadly Sins bar had available, and its friendly, talented staff. Those would certainly hit the spot. But, no. Caf would likely be a better choice. Despite being a stimulant, there was something calming and comforting about the warm beverage, as he had discovered of late. But that still left choices in his mind. The main countertop area for placing orders, the self-service station, or the Golden Griddle diner. His mind began weighing the options as he entered the station proper, slipping into the flow of the crowd with practiced ease.

Miho tilted her head to the side, listening to Amber speaking in Arkanian. Enough time with her mentor, the current High Councillor, had given her the ability to recognize the language, but not understand it. “What sort of cargo are we talking about?”

There were limits to what she’d move about, but she didn’t worry much about asking all that many questions. Her concern was more space constraints. “If you want something, say, larger than a speeder bike moved, I don’t know I can really accommodate. Not with what came here in.”

“It wouldn’t be much larger. A crate, five feet tall, six wide and deep. No other provisions need to be made, no hazardous materials, nothing that is fragile. Payment upfront.” she spoke again quite simply, treating the idea of the job as no big issue. “If negotiations would be of interest to you, we can discuss them or I can introduce you to the one who would be issuing pay.”

Several booths along, Nathan Breeze sat tapping away on his own pad.

Hed come out today, as a test against his own anxieties about being out alone. Mainly. It was something that needed working on but it was a side effect against his actual intent.

It didn’t take much to access the stations data connections. Not interfering, of course not, but peering at what was accessible. Who had accessed it, and was vulnerable. It was interesting, the binaric world of the holonet. One he’d never bothered to explore until the last few years in Arcona.

He found an open connection, linking up with a pad in the building. He didn’t do much, very purposefully avoiding reading any information visible but did leave a mark of his presence.

It felt wrong to go in and not let people know they were vulnerable to having their data breached. It had become something of a habit for him, though usually not quite so potentially close to whoever it was.

Maxim’s pad suddenly had a tiny pixilated Nerf sitting in the bottom right corner. When clicked on, it would wave and disappear.

Maxim paused mid sip as the little icon appeared. His lips twitched, a corner raising into a smirk.

The chase was on.

Still casually sipping at his mug, his other hand worked his pad like a blur, quickly isolating the intrusion much like a bear trap would close on the leg of an unsuspecting poacher. His own code snaked back along the connection. There was no intent to damage, or even scare really. It was more for fun to Maxim.

So instead of flickering screen, an explosive battery or all his data being ripped. Nathan’s pad instead went to full volume and began blasting an old Pop song with a rainbow flashing screen.

Nathan blinked when he saw his volume suddenly increase.

And then scrambled to very quickly mute it again as music blared from the pad. He didn’t much mind the song but being caught out was adrenaline inducing itself, the Pantoran hybrid’s cheeks flushing lavender within a few seconds.

Yet, it was simply a prank. The pranker was clearly better at this than Nathan, but he was intrigued to at least poke back.

And so, Nathan attached a sound file to play whenever the screen was touched, raising the volume enough to be heard but not so much itd immediately click. A soft moo, for any interaction with the pad.

Only for a few minutes, he set a timer on it, though it wouldn’t be difficult to find and remove before then.

It took a few moments of tapping, but another smirk crossed Maxim’s face as he picked up on the moo*s that came from his pad responding to his actions. As amusing as it was, he was more distracted by the sound and subsequent panic from someone sitting a few booths away from him. It sounded *A bit too much like his code going off to ignore. He paused to think, then shot another string of simple code before standing, mug in hand. He began walking towards Nathan in a casual manner as his code worked, displaying pre written text when Nathan went to type again.

“I see you”

The you was a particularly chosen shade of blue, matching Nathan’s face. By the time Nathan could process his own text being manipulated, Maxim was standing at the edge of his table, blank silvery white eyes looking at him over the edge of his Caf mug he was sipping.

Maxim was quite handsome, tall and well built. His button up shirt and vest was not bursting with muscles, but did show enough of his arms and chest to indicated that he had working muscle that came from regular use and not gym training. The knuckles that were wrapped around the handle of his mug were bruised, scratched and scarred. A faint bruise could be seen along his scruffy jaw, and peaking from the first few unbutton buttons of his shirt was a tattoo of some sort of claw print.

Luka’s gaze faltered under Yeoni’s stare, and although they kept close to him, their touch was not as warm as it once was. Uncertainty caused their usual mask of a smile to twitch.

“Of course,” they said simply. “Appearances.” They pulled away then, turning to shift down the seat. They paused before standing to compose themself, their deep breath let out with a sigh.

They turned to the center of the diner, their eyes scanning the miriad of signs and nametags to figure out how they were meant to order. Did the diner make eggs to order? Did they want to wait for it?

They chewed on the bottom of their lip, then pushed themself out of the booth to head toward the self-serve food. Yeoni would deal with whatever they scrounged up. Not that any of it was bad - the burritos looked filling, salads crisp, burgers hot. Luka grabbed two breakfast burritos, shrugged, then grabbed two more. A salad was balanced precariously on top of those. They were forgetting something… right, the smoothie.

Luka frowned and looked to a nearby cooler. They did not have enough hands for this… but to go get a basket would admit defeat. They hummed along with the pop music that blared over someone’s device as they contemplated how they were going to carry everything. The shift to mooing brought a perplexed look to their face, and they glanced around to find the source. Finding it had stopped, they returned to their own predicament.

Nathan read the statement in an instant, the notification causing his fluster turned to sudden intense concern. Hed heard the mooing, though he couldn’t say where from…

A man stood at the end of the table.

Nathan paled a few shades. He himself was dressed in simple attire, a plain sweater zig had gifted him with some Holoflick character on it and normal pants.

It was far from difficult to determine that this was the fellow splicer he’d Nerf-dropped. A nervous smile crossed Nathan’s face, making eye contact for a barely a moment, tapping his screen to dismiss the pop up.

“So you do.”

Hopefully the light heartedness of the interaction continued. It wasn’t like Nate was much of a threat, a broad figure naturally but with no musculature that would suggest anything more than a hard worker.

Yeo watched Luka leave for a moment before lounging back into the crook of the booth. A dark hand ran over his face with a contemplative and oxygen deprived sigh. Closing his eyes, the Kiffar vowed to just rest them until Luka came back, keeping an ear out for his surroundings…and quietly humming the familiar song far longer than it had blared through the diner.

Maxim slurped loudly, then sat down across from Nathan. His crisp cologne shifting through the air with his movements. He sat casually, yet maintained proper posture. “I do.” He confirmed with a quick nod.

“I wonder, do you often go poking through the data streams? Prodding sleeping beasts with no idea how they might react upon awakening?” He set his mug down and folded his hands together, both bruised knuckles showing as they rested on the table.

It had been an adventurous few months. A contract to sell a very peculiar batch of weapons to someone in the Selen system had left the Aurochs’ crew with unseen but deeply-felt attention. Old contacts stopped taking their calls. Others warned them about turning against “those people”, but with no explanation of who “those people” were or why they were so strongly against free enterprise.

Inquiries were made. Questions were asked. Coordinates were received. And eventually, a Chiss woman in conspicuous swashbuckler’s attire strode down the YZ-900’s landing ramp, full of panache and perhaps-unearned confidence.

So this was where the Brotherhooders hung out. It was… not what she’d expected.

The man didn’t seem to notice the deft pick pocketing, though those roving hands found not a lick of creds, a single blade nor blaster upon him. Farther investigation was hampered by the Kiffar’s position against the wall.

“I’m afraid that seat’s taken.”

The deep voice rumbled out, words giving way to a faint yawn. Dark brown eyes cracked open, staring at the pale figure. A hand gestured to the bench across the table. He gave a small smile, the type of someone trying to be polite but just found another had slid into their space. “You’re welcome to sit and chat but my, partner is sitting there.”

Nathan ha a cup of some herbal tea in front of him. He clicke off the pa, continuing to avoid contact as Maxim sat, and Nate’s posture slowly slouched from the straight backed way he’d been sat a minute before.

He couldn’t tell if he was being threatened or not. Or if it was just a warning or… what. There was a lump in Nathan’s throat that took a few seconds to work around. His voice was low when he finally spoke, “Not often… I don’t take anything. Just, let people know they’re exposed.”

“Hm.” He grunted, then ran his bruised knuckles along his jaw. “Could make quite a few creds with talents like that, even if you aren’t stealing. But, I would offer a recommendation.” He gestured to the pad, then took a long sip while he waited for a response.

Nathan finally glanced up, golden eyes meeting the pallid silver of the stranger. Only for a moment before returning to the table.

“I’m just.. doing it to learn, right now. I don’t know as much I’d like.” He admitted slowly, still new enough to doubt his abilities but turning the pad back on as gestured.

“The more the merrier for conversation,” Yeo supplied. The mild tension that had barely set in his shoulders eased as he shifted more upright, still lounging against the bench’s back. At inquiry upon his company, the Kiffar glanced away towards where they quickly found Luka and watched for several seconds. Clearing his throat, he looked back to the young man with a light smile. “They certainly are handsome, a lucky guy I am.”

“If by a pick me up you mean a sobering from a good night out, then yes.” Yeo scratched his beard, paused when he noticed the empty mug on the table before reaching out and moving it towards the edge for the servers. Choosing to lean on his elbows, he offered a hand out to the near-human. “The name’s Yeoni, please, call me Yeo. And yours?”

Maxim spun the Pad around to inspect the code that Nathan was accessing. “You snagged a connection well enough, but the first thing you should do when you want to connect, is Barb your arrow. I spun your connection back on you easily, make it hurt to wrench the code free. Alternatively, run an cut off program. Look for code being written that isn’t coming from your screen. Unless you’re running a large setup, there’s no reason to have more than one screen with creation rights. If a second is detected, the program pulls the switch, and isolates your runner until you make a physical connection - In this case, logging back into your pad.”

“Oh.” Nathan responded, taking on the information and slowly relaxing. This was informative, not.. scolding. It was useful, too. He’d understood the basics of these things but it made more sense like this.

“I set a timer for the mooing.” He commented quietly, contemplating. It wasn’t so dissimilar to what he’d need to do to his own connection. Nate glanced up again, nervous yet but curiosity growing. He’d grown less weary of kindness like this in the last few years, but it still caught him off guard from those theoretically unaffiliated with the Brotherhood. “…Thank you.”

Maxim nodded again, finishing his mug of Caf. “I’d recommend some more practice, use those defensive programs and get used to them. Not everyone you play harmless pranks on is going to be forgiving. People feel fear, of something unknown, accessing information they thought was, or prefer to be private. The idea that you can do anything you want to their systems, even if they can’t prove that you did, is going to piss some people off. So make it hard for them to track you down, right?”

He went to stand, swiveling at the hip to stretch his back before grabbing his mug.

“No, I don’t care, I can’t believe she did this!” Zag yelled back into her computer-linked gauntlets.

“Nah, really, I literally do not give a kark!”

“Okay, bye.”

Zag’s shook her hand like it was on fire to turn her wrist-comm off.

The Zyggerian leaned back, looking up at the ceiling, hanging her arms behind her and let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“Come on, Ke'chako, let’s go.”

“Ke'chako?” Zag peered at the tooka, rubbing her eyes from exhaustion.

The tooka stared back, unmoving at the entrance. Umangi felt something itch at the back of head, making her turn around. That’s when she remembered how Ke'chako always had a tendency to look through you. She raised her shoulders in a shrug and entered the Shame Corner without the runt.

— Upon entrance, the Zygerrian placed her hands on her hips. The nostrils of her pink-tipped nose flared subtly as her lips pressed into a thin, tight line. She blinked slowly as she inspected her surroundings.

She tried to swallow her anger, but it just kept on swelling in her stomach, as if it was set on fire. A high-pitched sound travelled up and out of her chest, filled with frustration and exasperation. She ripped the comms-device off of her wrist, dropped and kicked it mid-air down the hallway, as far as it could go. Then she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

“What a frakking day,” her silvery voice returned as her heartbeat went down.

A chuff escaped him to Nepeta’s vow, yet the medical examiner refrained from pointing out the negative impacts from such prolonged habits. In fact, he didn’t care. But his eyebrow had quirked at the hoovering, not-touching return of his handshake. Yeo retreated his hand and leaned his chin casually on the back of his other fist. It didn’t take him long to quickly assume the likely cause for avoidance.

“Relax, my friend. Only the dead seem to reveal their truths at a touch,” the Kiffar shared with a half-grin followed by a chuckle. His smile slipped with a clearing of his throat as he quickly added, “–Not that I’ve used it often on corpses…” He paused, finding that perhaps odd and explained, “ah, I’m a pathologist, discovering how people die is my forte. I prefer scientific methods however.”

Yeo gave the young man an apologetic smile. “And as for the drink offer, I’ll have to pass. I’m attempting to,” he paused again and inhaled deeply, “detox before the work week starts again. Nothing like a fruit smoothie for that.”

“Right.” Nathan responded, looking down at his pad. Hed need to look into those codes and programs.

“Thank you.” He found himself repeating, smiling faintly. Hed been prepared for the worst option but it was nice to be proven wrong on this occasion.

It was nice to learn something new, as well.

The life of Lektra Kendis was one marred with horror and pain. A life where people could be taken from her without warning or pause, something she had recently been reminded of. But since then, the young woman had regained so much more than she ever felt possible. The whole experience had her feeling confused and overwhelmed so when she was asked how she could be helped, she simply requested a small break.

That’s how the Firrerreo ended up at the Shame Corner of all places. The Kendis let out a heavy breath as she crossed the threshold to the business, a small weight coming off her sweater clad shoulders. Finally she could have some time to simply think.

Even though she was already wired, Lektra made her way to the self-serve food area for a snack and definitely some coffee to warm her up despite her thicker pants and oversized top.

Upon arriving at her destination, Lektra noticed a familiar figure, one she hadn’t seen in quite some time. A feeling of guilt washed over the woman as she realized just how long it had been since she reached out. What if they thought she was dead or hurt? The vigilante sighed and grit her teeth. There was no point in simply avoiding the whole situation so she simply walked forward and tapped Luka’s shoulder. “Luka?” She asked, her voice more hoarse than she had realized.

“Lektra? Oh! Darn…” Luka nearly dropped one of the burritos they were holding as they turned their attention to the familiar voice. They quickly dumped their foodstuffs in a haphazard pile on a nearby counter, rearranging it slightly as it began to shift. Once satisfied that it would not fall to the floor, they turned back to her.

The human’s brow furrowed with concern as they looked her over. She looked like she had been through a lot. How long had it been since they had last talked? A month? Two? Lektra wasn’t the only one with guilt for their absence.

“How are you, dear? Feels like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Seeing Luka beging to struggle, Lektra went to help them but it seems they already had it covered. “It feels like it’s been centuries, I’m sorry about that. I’ve… I’ve been better. But I’ve also been worse. I hope you’ve at least been doing well.” The Firrerreo looked at the ground and kicked her feet just a tad, unable to push away the shame she felt

“Hey” Leena blinked hard at Hekate.

“What?” The anodized apprentice looked back at the Twi'Lek, the flickering LEDs around her optical sensors flipping from a happy semicircle of violet light to a narrower line intersecting the sensor itself.

Leena’s eyes darted to the cup in their hand, beneath the spigot of steaming black liquid, the cup overfilling and spattering the floor with the caf. Hekate twitched back into cognizance, releasing the valve and setting the cup down as their sensors flit across the self-serve station, looking for napkins, although they should have been lookign for a mop instead.

“Are you good?” Leena watched them move as she stepped forward, finding a dispenser of hand napkins, the material flimsy and thin as she tried to sop up the scalding black liquid. First it was the voice attenuation module, which honestly has had problems since…well, forever if she was being honest, but now their head just seemed to be lost in thought. Wait. Was that an appropriate amount of anthropomorphizing, or not? The line between droids and other sentients was forever blurred to Leena anyway, and doubly so for those that spent too much time around her. It was her fault, she was sure. Not that it was an intentional thing, as she would never deign to… Leena shivered at the thought. But still, the thought weighed heavy on her mind, like caf soaked napkin pulp beneath her fingertips. She turned, tossing the mass into a nearby receptacle, the dripping heft of it crunching something celloplast in the bin.

“Yeah.” Hekate’s voice seemed more divided than ever. It always seemed to be a chorus, like three women in an ad hoc chorus any time they said anything, but the voices seemed less harmonious lately. “Just worried, is all.”

Leena’s eylid twitched in thought before her brow raised. “With regards to?”

Hekate sighed. Leena’s eyes widened at the sound. That was new. Not sure how that could have possibly happened. Was that a sound effect, or an actual air expellation through the aperture that led to her inner storage compartment? No. That raised untold numbers of questions. It had to be a sound effect. There was no other way. Otherwise…

“Just, Forge managed to…” Hekate started, then paused, considering the next words. “Well, he carries sabers, and here, I have been looking for a year to even find a crystal…”

Leena leaned on the counter, looking at them, half smiling. “I get it.” She stirred her own caf with a slender pick from a container on the counter. “Always questioning yourself, wondering if. That’s part of being alive.” Leena stopped, eyes darting back and forth as she played that last sentence back inside her head.

Hekate stopped, looking down at their feet, the spatters of caf splayed across their boots and the floor. Was it envy, jealousy? Fear that they’d never live up to what they thought they would be? Hekate shrugged, trying to make sense of it all. Even here, however many parsecs away from the Master and his chamberlain, they felt like a stormcloud had settled on their chest. They let one optical sensor rais in hopefulness, closing metal fingers around the cup and putting a lid on it. “Yeah?”

“Most of us don’t know what we’re doing, no matter how much we act like it.” She turned to look at them. “Confidence is mostly a mask.”

Hekate pushed a wad of napkins around with their foot, sopping up the remainder of the caf. The boots would take some work, but they were due anyway.

“Besides, you know that Forge only carries those sabers for the boss. He didn’t make them.” She raised her own cup, tapping it against Hekate’s in a gently festive movement, then took a sip.

“Wait, really?” Hekate’s voice slipped back into their usual harmony mid word, optical sensors shifting to half crescents at the top of their sockets.

Miho thought for a moment before shaking her head sadly. “I don’t think the ship we came in can accommodate that, unfortunately. I would normally have no problems helping, but without removing some of the seating, it might be a tight squeeze.”

She tilted her head to the side, thinking. “If it isn’t urgent or here with you, we could meet up at another time with a different vessel?”

The small Proconsul seemed genuinely interested in being helpful, but was almost sad she couldn’t do more.

The woman’s lips pursed, eyes narrowing with a distant look as the considered the offer. “The crate travels with us. I have discovered the previously agreed upon ship does not meet our necessary restrictions. I am sorry for bothering you” her head tilts downwards, eyes flicking to the floor before they raise with her face.

“If your situation changes, you will find either myself or my companion in the… cafe.” She seemed annoyed to speak the last word, as if the sound itself reminded her of dirty sticky floors, over salted eggs, and thick scorched caf.

“Been better, but I’m standing,” Luka replied. They glanced toward Yeoni’s table and frowned when they noticed someone else there. They couldn’t catch their conversation from this distance, but Luka didn’t trust it regardless.

“Here. I need another pair of hands for this. Gotta grab a smoothie for Yeo. Pick out whatever you want, too. I’ll buy.”

“Standing is good. Standing is… Better than what some others can do.” Another pang of guilt slammed into Lektra’s heart as she thought back to that titular night. She wondered if Sebastian would ever be able to stand again after what happened.

The Firrerreo watched Luka’s eyes to see them glance at a both containing Yeo and someone new. The woman picked up some of the precariously stacked goods. “You don’t have to get me anything, I’m just here for some caf… And maybe a conversation?”

Amber had of course noticed the staring, but did not show any indication of it. Instead she kept the approaching woman in her peripheral, only turning to face her when she had entered an appropriate distance.

As she did not recognize the Twi’lek, her mind was mostly occupied by the tiny movements they made, scanning for danger while holding eye contact. Because of this she effectively missed the awkwardness in their own movements and expression, causing her to be caught slightly off guard by the questioning. What did it matter if she was looking for someone. Who approaches someone like that? Why is this station so full of chatty weirdos? Her lips tightened for a moment, still holding her own dark caf. She mirrored the motion to sip from it, mimicking the attempt to grant a moment to consider an appropriate response.

“Perhaps. I need a ship for a small amount of cargo hauling. Private and discrete. Nothing extreme or toxic. The previous ship I had plans with proved to be inadequate for what is required.” Her strange eyes scanned the Twi’lek over, sharp canine teeth poking from her lips as she spoke. Come to think of it, most of her auxiliary teeth were abnormally sharp. Not enough to appear too off at a glance, but more than a normal person should have.

“I’ve been doing ‘discrete’ for a long time.” Leena smiled, her curiosity piqued. The puzzle deepened, she probably wouldn’t build enough rapport to get answers to her own questions right away, at any rate. She debated for a moment, considering what she had been doing before anyway. Ferrying hard data from broker to broker, trading rare parts. Nothing too time sensitive, not on the back half of the journey, anyway. And the Boss left her to her own devices, figuratively and literally. “Which direction are you headed?”

“We are headed Coreward. To Cinnagar.” The strange eyes settled back on Leena’s. “Is that something you are capable of doing?” Her voice was refined, but had a soft purr to it when she ended her sentences. She had relaxed slightly from the initiation of the conversation. She disliked speaking to people, disliked people knowing her face, but as most things she disliked doing, it was her job.

Cinnagar. Leena kept her carefully painted eyebrows still. This got more interesting by the moment. It was well within the capabilities of what the Theta-class could handle, and going into the historical domain of the Krath would please Hekate to no end. Hopefully she wouldn’t talk their ears off on the flight coreward. She nodded briefly. “Cinnagar is easy enough for my ship.” She paused, trying to place the woman’s accent briefly before giving up. It wasn’t like it mattered anyway. “What’s your timeline looking like?”

The question caused her to pause, recalling Maxims earlier guidance. “If we leave today, we will allow a 15% err in efficiency on the route, According to my partner.” The actual number was much looser, but Amber felt like testing this Twi’lek. If they were going to be traveling together for an extended period, knowing their worth would allow for more accurate estimations of effectiveness should something go wrong.

Leena looked confused for a second. “I mean, I wasn’t planning any stops along the way.” She gestured to the snack aisles with a sweep of a hand. “We can get whatever we want for that while we’re here.” She paused to consider. “Only one ‘fresher onboard though. So….uhhhh. Plan accordingly?” She stopped, looking over her shoulder at Hekate as they stood there, sipping caf. “That means no spiced bean stew, Hexy.”

Hekate turned her optical sensors of slowly and then turned them back on in an approximation of a blink. “I am sure that I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Only one would be an annoyance but not something they hadn’t put up with before. Amber nodded, a moment later speaking as her eyes were drawn to Hekate. “I will draft a schedule for my companion and myself, you will be free to work around it.”

Amber quickly slipped a compad from her back pocket and started typing away at it. “Can I have your name.” It wasn’t quite posed as a question, rather a practiced and technical function of her duty. Her eyes did however glance up from the pad to Leena, then Hekate, before returning to the Twi’lek.

“Call me Leena.” She tilted her head, wondering. It wasn’t like there was a lot of offical records attached to her name, full or nick. It was, for all intents and purposes, a perk of her job. She nodded back at her companion. “And this here is Hekate.”

Leena stopped, watching the woman type efficiently, far more letters than the names she was just given. Wonder bloomed behind her eyes. Who in the hells manages to schedule the need for a ‘fresher? She shook her head a degree, her lekku sliding off her shoulder again. Again, probably not worth it. She pulled her own datapad from the inner pocket of her vest, turning it around to show the woman. “Here’s my comm channel. We’re on dock 27.”

“Leena.” She repeated, that odd purr slightly extending the vowels of the name. She copied the comm channel from the display quickly, and with a few more taps that carried a weight of finality shut the screen off and packed it away again.

“I will preform an external review of the ship until you are prepared for an examination of the cargo bay. If you would like to meet my companion, I can escort you to the cafe.” Her arms folded behind her back, assuming a near military at ease pose in her sharp red suit.

“Sure, why not?” Leena nodded, turning to Hekate briefly. “Salty and sweet only. Nothing too spicy. Got it?” She waited for Hekate to nod back before shifting her gaze to the woman herself. “Lead on….What should I call you?”

A few paces away, Hekate started looking for a basket. Sure, the ship was reasonably provisioned for caloric and nutritional needs, but if Leena was going to give her leave to get snacks, then she was going to go hard. The noise that escaped them might have been considered a laugh in some systems, but raised the worried eyebrows of the apron-clad worker trying to stock a shelf full of sweetened crisps.

“I am called Amber.” She responded simply, leading the Twi’lek away from the shopping area and into the cafe.

Maxim had at this point returned to his seat. He refreshed his mug of Caf and nursed it as he managed his Tablet. Having received the note from Amber on the incoming potential cargo runner, he was sat upright, with a clean table before him. He didn’t do much else to appear fancy, bruised jaw and knuckles still quite evident as he lounged. Pure white silvery eyes made it quite hard to tell where he was looking, but the gruffly handsome man’s gaze could be felt rather easily as Amber approached the table with Leena in tow.

Upon reaching the table, she bent at the hip in a quick bow, gazed lowered to his half empty mug. ”привет, это он. Leena” she spoke in Arkanian, then turned to Leena. “This is Kadnikov Maxim Victorovich. He will be your patron for this job.”

Amber assumed a position at the edge of the booth, giving Leena the room to sit across from Maxim.

Leena slid into the booth across from the man, then swung her head to pull her left lekku back over her shoulder. Violet eyes regarded the man, taking stock of the details, assessing him as she was surely assessing her. The woman bowed. She let that rattle around her mind for a moment. Even her boss didn’t demand that of her. Never had, even as he cut her chains away and could have. She had been promised, all those many years ago that she’d never have to. Apparently, this man never made the same promise. She shuffled the thought off. It wasn’t the first time she had come across people so occupied with antiquated decorum. Likely nowhere near the last time, either. Respectful was always enough for her.

She exhaled slowly, a pleasant look on her face. Not quite a smile, but close enough. “Your …Amber looked a little lost. Anyway, I hear there’s some things that need to get to Cinnagar.”

Ambers jaw tightened and she turned her back to the table, arms again clasping behind her. Maxim glanced up at her before taking a sip from his mug. He sat on the statement for a moment, then shifted in the booth to adjust the over shoulder holsters so they sat more comfortable against his side. Both holsters appear to have some form of Slug thrower carefully clasped amongst dark leather. “She is not mine. I am confident she knew where she was.” He offered some defense of her, but moved on quickly.

“Cinnagar, correct. We have some time before we need to be there, and do not plan to be there too long. If you’re able to take us from there after we’d be willing to pay more. I’d prefer to not go ship hunting there as my cargo requires some discretion. Moving things between ships there is more complicated than it is here.”

Nathan stiffened in his seat.

Kadnikov.

Had he just met one of Mikhail’s family? Or just a coworker or… he paused in the midst of shuffling through and around code, finger hovered millimeters above the touch screen.

He wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that potential reality.

Reiden had opted to wait in line for his caf. He hadn’t come up with what to order, so defaulted to black, then figured he’d adjust things himself once it had been acquired. The aroma of beans and brewed caf filled his nostrils. It was secretly one of his favorite smells, although he wasn’t sure why. His mind idly wondered if it was a remnant from growing up and spending time with his parents before their deaths. After all, his mother Amyla had enjoyed a cup or two of caf most mornings, from what he could remember. And then there were those special mornings where a big breakfast was made, which he always loved.

He smiled at the memory, though it dissipated as soon as he heard the barista call for the next person in line. He placed his order, paid, and left a tip before heading to the self service section shortly after with a steaming cup of caf. He added a little milk and a dash of sugar to it, doing his best to recreate what his mother would have done. He stirred the beverage and gazed into the cup, giving it a nod of approval. The color seemed to match with what he remembered all those years ago.

Reiden looked around and found an empty table and got himself settled, releasing a sigh. After so much time on a ship, it felt nice to stretch his legs a little. He sipped at the caf, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t exactly what his mother would make, from what little he recalled of trying some of hers at the time - and hating it - but it was a good enough approximation.

Leena nodded appreciatively. It wasn’t a necessary clarification on the nature of his assistant, but useful none the less. So he wasn’t a slaver. Good. She leaned backward in the booth a little more relaxed. Warm skin and fabric squeaking against the synthetic booth covers, an abrupt punctuation of the smile that played across her face. “I’ve been over that way before, so I understand. Good thing that I’m already done with my last run.”

She placed her own datapad on the table, spinning it idly with a finger. The light played against violet skin, the black ink that swirled around her fingers creating an intricate pattern resembling circuitry the further up her arm it got. “I’ve got time for it. Haven’t been out in the old territory in some time, to boot.”

She furtively looked up at the man, seeing if he reacted or not. Any further, and it would have been obvious, any less and it could be dismissed. If he knew, he knew. If not, oh well. It was well worth the effort.

Reiden was surprised to hear a voice addressing him, let alone a familiar one at that. Then again, the woman did work here. He glanced up to see Ira, out from behind her post at the bar.

He returned the smile, nodding. “The caf here is indeed quite good, but once again you show your skill at reading people, Ira. I don’t need caf every day, but I enjoy the occasional cup. The smell always reminds me of home growing up and to honor that, I try to make it the way my mother did.”

Jai’s stomach growled with a mixed gurgle with a reminder that he hadn’t eaten since before his latest skirmish. Sitting on the edge of the bench he sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. He spent the last several hours in a lounge reviewing the last set of reports leaving no time to even think about food. Now with his data pad set down and no battles to worry about, hunger clawed at him like a feral womp rat.

Jai collected himself, grabbing his boots and strapping them back on. He stood up and grabbed his hilt and tucked it away before heading for the Shame Corner. As he made his way through the corridors, the faint smell of exotic spices filling the air and into his nostrils. He only had one thing in mind, what lies on the menu today.

“Conversation? Ah, yes, of course.” Though Luka appeared reluctant to pull their attention away from Yeoni’s table, Lektra’s dour expression gave them worry. “Here. Follow.” They swiftly brought their groceries to the cashier, grabbing a bag on the way. After a brief, almost wordless transaction, they returned their focus back to their friend.

“Grab some caf. Anything you want, really. I insist.” They gestured to the steaming pots, then lowered their head to be more discreet as they spoke. “So what’s going on?”

It took a few moments to spot the caf dispensers, but eventually Cole managed to navigate over. He had to watch his step, cane clacking against the metallic floor. The prosthetic was still new enough to need the aid, frankly he wouldn’t have come out here if there hadn’t been a lead from Corvo to follow. On the way home, he was allowing himself a break from the ship and a fresh cup of caf. Even if it meant shuffling around clusters of people and leaning awkwardly on the edge of a counter to actually effectively pour.

There was a host of varied people here, undoubtedly having interesting conversations. He recognised the blue skinned form of Nathan sitting in a booth but knowing the young man’s nature, didn’t even considering approaching and headed toward some of the free-standing tables.

It was hard to pinpoint exactly where Maxim’s eyes were looking, but movement was easy enough to notice. He was indeed scanning her over, taking what features stood out to memory. He idly swirled his mug of caf as she spoke, an eyebrow twitching upwards in response to her words. Perhaps it was time to for him to do some probing.

The hand not on his mug idly toyed with the screen of his pad as, it seemed he was quite used to operating it without full devoted attention. “Old stomping grounds. Are you native to the system then?” He released his mug to rub at his jaw, fingers pressing into the bruise that shaded it. “I’ve known a few groups that would or did call Cinnagar their territory. Though, many of them would love to have a long talk with others that do.”

“Oh, not hardly.” Leena took a sip, letting the slowly cooling caf rush across her tongue, down her throat. There wasn’t much left in the go-cup, but she had promised Hekate some to stay anyway. Staying alert was a little more important with guests, to boot. “I’m from spaaace.” She waggled her fingers in mock theatrics before leaning forward. “Not really sure that I could claim I’m from anywhere, really. But the Order has roots on Cinnagar.”

She let a coy smile cross her lips. Context clues. There were prize few people crossing brotherhood territories and stopping in an Exarch Envoy sponsored facility that wouldn’t know at least some of the Brotherhood’s history. Or at least the big stuff. Clans, Orders, that sort of thing. She let her eyes drift across him, checking again for some sort of clan insignia, a house mark, something. Not that it was any sort of mandatory thing. Hell, only those with an encyclopedic understanding of Brotherhood history and a penchant for subtle details would be able to possibly pick out her own affiliations. She had found that useful in her line of work, hells, more so for her own sense of self than even that.

Leena cleared her throat, realizing she had paused in the conversation for perhaps a couple moments too long. “Not that the Krath hasn’t progressed beyond Cinnagar…past the old days of effete academics and soft dilettantes.” She paused a moment, realising that she was rambling, then looked him over again. He didn’t look like he would lay claim to either of those categories, but still. Closed mouths gather no feet.

”легкий” Maxim snapped, his eyes still seemingly on Leena but the word was not meant for her. Unnoticed, Amber had shifted, her arms dropping from her back to her hips casually, fingers curled slightly as if they were moments from grabbing something. With her back still to the table, her head was tilted towards Maxim, face unseen by the Twi’lek both due to the lower angle and two tone hair.

“Forgive me, it is unkind to speak an unknown language infront of company.” His demeanor hadn’t changed, if anything he leaned a little closer to the table. Interested, perhaps? “Certainly old times. Leaps and bounds have been made by all fronts in terms of progress from what they once were. The ebb and flow of history doesn’t stop, but it does seem to speed up when you’re witnessing it firsthand.”

His warm voice coaxed Ambers hands back to their position behind her back. The Arkanian took another sip of his caf and flashed a handsome smile across at the woman. “It sounds like you will have no issue with the job then?”

Jai stepped closer to the counter, eyeing the delicious spread of jerky and pastries within. With a friendly smile, he nodded and replied back, “Actually yeah, I’ll take a couple of those jerky strips and one of those warm pastries, whatever’s fresh.” He leaned in slightly as he continued to admire the array of food. “And maybe a drink to go with, if you have it?”

“Yes,” he answered. Yeo quirked a brow at the shift in the young man’s eye contact and his sharp question. His own gaze narrowed a fraction, the corner of his lips twitching before he shifted and covered a small yawn. He gave a smile again with a hum and leaned again on crossed arms “Or at least that’s what it says on a piece of flimsiplast they gave me post graduating, heh.”

“Tell me, what sort of work do you do? You seem like someone well traveled.” A change in conversation and a hand off of the metaphorical talking stick. Nepeta’s clothes were well worn, which hinted they were either a spacer or down on their luck. The latter might have explained why they imbibed so much, and decided to bother him.

He laughed and sipped from his cup. “She was, yeah. She was a teacher for a long time, worked with kids. There was always some project or another we’d work on to keep me busy. The smell of caf was a constant during our mornings, and sometimes while we worked on things as well.”

She watched Amber’s body language shift, filing it away for later with the utterance. Enooshkey. Ish. Maybe. Languages were just verbal code, the statements and demands far less clean than binary, more open to interpretation, too easily corrupted by background noise, bad hearing, the filters of context and sarcasm, metaphor and simile. Poetry. But still. She had to wonder what the word translated to.

“Not at all.” Leena tilted her head. “Leastways, not from any of the details you’ve shared.” She tilted her torso forward, stopping her idly spinning datapad with a firm finger. “My compatriot is getting snacks, but after that….” She looked over at the lunch bar, at the golden haired lightning man standing with a carafe of black liquid. “…and another cup of caf, we’ll be ready to go. We’re in slip 27, if you want your staff to get loaded up. I’ll send a comm to the pilot to expect it.”

“There he is.” Leena smiled as warm as the caf that filled the ceramic mug between her violet hands. “Oh, Hexy is running unattended through the snack section with my expense account.” She laughed, tilting her head as if she could see Hekate through the aisles of stuffed tailrings, shirts with puns on them, and folksy home decor. Shifting her view back, she reached for the cream. Real cream. Not the freeze dried stuff, or the chemical tasting fake stuff, it was not an insignificant point in the Shame Corner’s claim to best caf in the sector.

She looked over at Maxim, considering for a moment. “Did you need your…. office….back for a few before we head out? I can find another table, if you like…”

Amber shifted to the side, getting out of the way for the approaching servant. Her eyes followed them, but she remained facing the wider bar.

Maxim happily slid his mostly empty mug over to the worker. “Amber, would you please take care of that? And thank you.” He nodded to Ray with a friendly smile preemptively.

To Leena’s words, he shook his head and folded his hands in front of his chin with his elbows on the table. “I have no expected visitors, if you wish to leave you are free to. Otherwise-“ he glanced up Amber “you can stay and we can chat further.”

Tight lipped, Amber nodded to no one and moved away from the table with a precise step and heel turn where she paused in her formal posture before relaxing and walking away.

That was what it was. Leena mentally dissected the woman’s movements, finally decyphering those lines. Or at least, part of it. The heel pivot was what gave it away. There was a politeness and almost genteel mannerisms before, something she had chalked up to finishing school, or her station within Maxim’s organization. A chamberlain? Concierge? But that seemed a veneer. The precision with which she moved, the efficiency of her positions sang of military training. She blinked, half cursing that she hadn’t picked up on it before. For a moment, she let her mind wander. Back to her own days in uniform, weighed down by gear and purpose. She missed it some rare days.

“Of course.” Leena took a sip, the smile curling her lips around the mug, then leaned back, getting more comfortable. “I didn’t want to pry.”

He lifted his freshly filled caf mug and gestured with it towards her as he shifted back in the booth and relaxed. “Please, pry. I’m an adult, I’ll let you know if you go too deep.”

He flashed another reassuring grin before he took a deep drink from the mug, relishing the taste of unsweetened black caf. He compad screen turned on, pulling his attention for a moment. He didn’t seem to be bothered by whatever the notification was enough to act on it.

Her head spun. There was a lot of questions, some that she never expected answers for. Discretion as a primary request foretold that, if Amber wasn’t just being protective of the man. Which was, at this moment, feeling fairly likely. That or he was trying to charm her right now. She thought it through as the caf warmed her core.

“The old Krath capital. The rune on Amber’s neck.” She let her eyes drift from his eyes to the ink at his own chest, restrained by his shirt. Amber wasn’t the first one she knew with scorched sclera. Hells, he even used Maxim as a moniker in system, but with a different surname. It almost seemed a work. “Are you adherents, hobbyists, or just…. tourists?” There was no judgement in her voice, just inquisitiveness. Leena let her hands stay on the mug, the warmth bringing life back to chilled fingertips as she let her eyes drift back up.

He chuckled, and glanced down into the mug as he swirled it. “Amber’s… rune, Is a story for her to tell. I would not do her the disservice of speaking for her. As for the question, I am a business man.”

He gestured to himself, bruised knuckles, jaw, half open shirt and tattoo, it all put together an interesting story certainly. The glimmer in his pure white eyes showing he quite understood a level of humor in his words. “I intend to do business, good business. And ensure our business is being run as efficiently as possible.”

Leena nodded. That meant that the mystical parts weren’t in the forefront here. She breathed easier. Following the money was indeed business, but then again businesses didn’t need clandestine transport and businessmen didn’t often catch bruises like he had behind their desks, so the context was fairly obvious. Not that it mattered much to her. It was something to do, she could handle her own, and then some. “May as well be efficient, if you’re going to do a thing. Plenty of opportunity for that sort of work coreward.”

She paused. She had done a fair share of work coreward. Nothing too involved, just slicing the things thought to be unslicable and then vanishing, a ghost in the memories of her employers. She had prize little desire to get involved in the gangland politics, the machinations of syndicates were just as brutal as those between clans, and those were complications she would rather avoid. But one on one? Job work? There was plenty of money to be made there. Blacklists that Declan had a standing offer to buy from her were only a part of the puzzle. Illegal tech research, M count results keyed to census, whispers and secrets, all were products that her network of buyers were eager to acquire. Not that she needed the money, but it was nice to never have to ask, to wonder. Even in the unlikely event that the Boss decided to up and vanish some day.

She set the cup back down, pushing her left lekku back over her shoulder, the right one winding around it in a half curl. “Transport’s not my usual business. I imagine that works out better for you.” She paused, watching the ripples die down in her mug. Known smugglers get boarded, checked. She never had, and likely never would. Even if they did, she could work their scanners easily enough. It was an advantage that she hadn’t considered until just now.

“Information is.” She smiled softly, her words gentle, ensuring that there was no perceived threat in them. “After all, almost everyone needs information.”

Maxim nodded in agreement, he had watched the movement to adjust the Lekku curiously. “The ancients said it, knowledge is power. The business of information is a lucrative one I am sure.” His gaze settled on her for a few moments as he seemed to consider some things himself.

“I’m certain you’ve seen quite a bit of useful information. I’ve no expectation that you’d share anything for free. Still I must ask, have you come across anything particularly intriguing recently?” He finished with a long silent sip, casually probing her as she had him.

There was the usual gigs: students paying to have their records inflated and office workers asking to have demerits removed. Then there was the richer clients. Paying heavy for her accessing CorSec database to remove specific criminal reports to salvage their good name. Business partners saying ‘it’s the principle’ while paying her almost as much to delete debts as it would be to just pay them off. Scummy philandering spouses paying for security feeds to be deleted before their significant others would find them. She had the benefit of deciding what jobs she would take, and nothing lately would be an amusing story… except.

Leena chuckled softly. It was innocent enough, something that likely didn’t matter to anyone outside of a small few, so it would be safe to spill. “Nothing too intense, but I had to quietly run a few backchannel chaincode traces, and bounce them off of core historical records. Found some ties to some really old stuff that made some eyebrows raise.” She chuckled again. “Instead of hailing from a royal line, it was a direct line to some old dodgy spacers. Although…” She smiled as she paused for effect. “Depending on how seriously you might take your genealogy, or how hard they want to pretend to be noble… I guess that could be shattering.”

She took a sip, then chewed her lip in thought before continuing. “If they do, I suppose they’ll be a client soon, and I can…” She waggled her fingers for a second “…make all that go away. For future stuff anyhow.”

Maxim chuckled, fulling settling back in his seat. “Oh, I know a thing or two about the importance of familial blood. Though, it’s fairly easy for my family to find out who is. And who isn’t. Even sharing blood isn’t always enough.” He trailed for a moment, idly spinning his mug.

He shrugged it off and sighed, looking back up at Leena. “What about you? Do you have much of a family?”

‘A good pilot’ had Yeo glancing across the growingly busy diner to find Luka. A glance that was no doubt misleading– the human barely knew how to fly and relied on an astromech, but it made him think of them. The brief check revealed they had been snagged up into conversation, he recognized the young woman and reasoned it was normal chit chat, catching up. Turning back to Nepeta, he offered up some sort of actual response. “A good Pilot, eh? Not normally a need for the job. Most cases come planetside. Public shuttles tend to do if it comes to traveling.”

Yeo paused, seemingly chewing on something he wanted to say. Eventually he shrugged and gave in to the thought. “What…sort of goods did you ferry?”

She ruminated for a moment, drowning her tongue in caf. She’d been close enough to undestand that having a common ancestor didn’t mean that you had a common goal. Hells, if the story she’d heard was correct, it was a relative that sold her family into chains generations ago. She hadn’t been able to get any concrete evidence on that, and the longer that she tried, the worse it weighed on her. It wasn’t as if it would have solved anything now, at any rate.

“The only blood I have is in my veins.” She set the mug down. “Family, though?” She smiled at the thought. The boss was about as close to what she imagined a father would be, and the rest of his kin treated her like she was one of them. She chewed her lip, looking for the right words. “The kind you find is better than the ones you’re issued, I think.”

“I keep hearing that. Maybe I just don’t get out enough” he joked, smiling softly as he takes another drink. “It’s comforting to know, however, that even without a solid family behind you, it’s possible to find your own.”

He screen flashed again, and he looked down at it for a bit longer than the previous one. Slightly annoyed, he quickly tapped away at the screen, entering numbers and dragging a few sliders down. He was distracted for the moment, but not entirely oblivious.

Yeo laughed lightly at the question and gave a small shrug while waiting for his answer. A considering stare at liberated goods was mollified soon after. “Mm, salvage, no, one cannot.”

The Kiffar exhaled and leaned back into the both, fingers tapping on the table as he seemed to gather some recollection of stories. “Hmm, not much I can talk about there, confidentiality of cases of course…”

“Ah, there was one case in the core worlds. Wealthy entrepreneur, a clean bill of health and said to have no vices or enemies. No wounds, signs of trauma, toxicology came out negative. And the doors of his condo had been locked,” Yeo nodded, confident in his relay of details, reliving it. “Turned out a mechanical error in the ventilation system had expedited the oxygen from the floor the night prior.”

“Indeed,” Yeoni responded with a look of surprise intrigue. He didn’t appear plussed at the lad’s wondering one bit, narrowing instead in on the tid bits of knowledge shared. “Petechiae Patterns? You seem to know a bit with medicine it seems.”

He raised his cup to her as well, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve found there is some truth to what some people say about hearing voices of loved ones in the back of the mind regarding things that come up in life, hearing them tell you lessons learned long ago, or how they might handle a situation. People are usually just going about their lives, their jobs. If they’re not causing any trouble, it’s easy to just do or say nothing and leave them be. But being friendly isn’t a bad thing, and it can even win people over - you never know when that might come in handy. It takes very little effort, at least most of the time. As long as people don’t cross that line with me, I typically return the favor. On one hand, it’s the right thing to do, and sometimes it’s just more efficient. On the other hand, some people learn the hard way and need a little extra…instruction, shall we say.” He shrugged and sipped his caf. “At the end of the day, everyone in the galaxy has their own problems. Why add to them if I don’t have to, you know?”

Lektra followed Luka’s instructions, simply following along after they agreed to have a conversation with her. The Firrerreo mimicked Luka’s silence as they checked out and settled all their affairs in that regard.

Usually Lektra would hesitate when accepting offers even as simple as caf, but, given recent events, there was no way she would reject a cup. “I don’t even know where to start…” Lektra replied as she poured herself some of the caffeinated liquid, her voice just as hushed. “Life hasn’t felt this chaotic for quite some time.”

“I know the feeling…” Luka said as they glanced back toward Yeoni. He appeared focused on his own conversation at the moment. Would he do anything if he told Lektra what had happened? The thought kept them tight-lipped, at least for now.

“Why don’t you start wherever you’d like. I haven’t seen you since… well, since I got out of the hospital, I think. Not necessarily your fault, of course. I make a habit of vanishing.” They gave a breath of a chuckle. “Always find my way back, though. Selen seems to have me stuck– In a good way, mind. It’s a good thing.”

Speaking of Luka Zarkot’s wonderful astromech.

The silver and gold plated BB-8 was busy dusting some of the lower baseruns with a rotating feather duster attachment, when it heard a long faint hiss followed by a light click. It sounded something like The Hummingbird’s hatch shutting, which meant it has been opened and someone had returned to the ship. Barnabus folded the duster back into its rotating tool kit compartment, then wheeled towards the entrance to greet the master.

The BB-8 trilled and chirped a greeting when it saw a human peering about the corridor. The man looked up from a compartment he was looking for, dim lights reflecting off silver hair, not brown. Barnabus rolled to a halt with an inquisitive chirp.

This was not Master Luka.

Quickly, its optical sensor examined the stranger. An older human male in late forties or early fifties, unrecognized leather clothes, signal tracker in hand, blaster and knife on the belt –

Barnabus trilled and whipped out its arc weilder, fervently attempting to persuade the interloper to leave. It weaved forward and back, zapping sparks threateningly at the air. The old man straightened up real quick and abandoned the compartment they were looking at. He tangoed a couple steps with the astromech before grunting with frustration, “Frack this,” and kicked the droid solidly down the hall.

“AawheeeWeeehhh–”

Shaking his head, now unbothered, the stranger continued on his search.

The mention of asphyxiation was what initially snapped Cole’s attention to the table. He’d been walking nearby when it clicked and while he kept walking he focussed his attention. Eventually, he leaned against a dividing wall, sipping the cup and looking back over.

The voice didn’t fit one of them, who seemed vaguely familiar anyway. No, it fit the strange looking being that he couldn’t determine much about. Perhaps an Echani hybrid though the pastel chunks hair didn’t seem dyed. Everything seemed off about this person’s appearance, as if it was a holodisplay on top of something else. The clothes added to this, as they were clearly designed to allow for sudden changes in size. It could also be sharing among siblings, though for the amount of effort and fabric used to create the adjustable pieces…. no. The knives were another eyebrow raise, though he could hardly say much with a concealed pistol and knife on his own person.

They could almost certainly put it to good use, the wiry lithe musculature structure made that unmistakeable.

It was all suspicious enough that even if it ended up being nothing-information, it made him pause and follow the instinct to listen. Leaning on his cane, and struggling to be as subtle as he usually would be. It was more difficult when you were still learning how to walk again and half of stealth when under the public eye was body language.

He sipped the coffee, mildly irritated as much as he was in pain.

That’s his voice, why the frack they have it on…someone finds themself a comedic impersonator. He barely resisted narrowing his gaze, pausing briefly with something of a confused look.

“A smoothie? Never had one?” Yeo diverted with an inhale, “It’s a blended drink of usually fruit, sometimes vegetables and some liquid, water, juice, milk, etcetera. Good source of fiber, vitamins and antioxidants…”

Fingers tapped the table thoughtfully again before Yeo nodded with a twitch of a smile. “Alright, deal. Some old case stories for your knowledge. Which, I believe, makes it your turn to answer.”

No, no, the earlier description was correct. The napkin was a disaster. Arguably it looked like a flower, but to Yeoni it was…still trash that was offered less of a glance than he did watching Nepeta touch it.

That glance abruptly followed a shudder up the pale near-human’s arm to their face. He watched with a furrowed brow of confusion as it visually stuttered and writhe faintly with the memory recounted before stabilizing to its former self. The medical practitioner flicked through his mental database of xenobiology, landing on a possible subject– if it wasn’t some other sort of ability. He nodded to himself, rubbing his side absentmindedly as he zoned back on on what Nepeta was saying.

‘Storytime? A good one. I have bled for you.’

He understood that meant more than sharing a sappy connection. He didn’t comment on it.

“Uh, yeah…a story,” Yeo shifted in his seat, fixing his wool and nerfhide jacket. He cleared his throat. “Sounds like your father was a good man…”

“Right, a mysterious case. Hmm…a trade dealer was murdered in their office. No weapon was found nor did the injury matched any weapon we had considered. However,” he leaned forward, one hand brushing the napkin to the side a bit as he gestured while continuing, “a shard of keratin was found. From the claw of a Colo Claw Fish. Mind, fitting a forty meter long fish in a metropolitan business suite was not likely, and this was a long way from Naboo.”

“His own collection. Seemed a jealous colleague had craved the ornate etched claw for themself,” Yeoni nodded.

He settled back on crossed arms, glancing over to check on Luka once more before returning to this game of questions. “You mentioned learning about xenobiology from multiple sources. Where else did you learn?”

The trade dealer was interesting enough. A man murdered out of jealously was not unusual though always something to note. Anyone willing to do that would do so again. Unfortunately few additional details were noted so it was more or less useful until later. Cole didn’t mind having something else to learn.

He was out of coffee. Going back and settling to lean there again would be suspicious. So, he chose to settle further against the wall, frowning slightly as the not a Echani spoke. Cultists carving people to study organs on living subjects. Also not unheard of but sickening still.

To say he’d had enough of cultists was as obvious as pointing out an atmospheric sky being blue.

Yet for someone with supposed experiemntation there was no scars. Definitely a shapeshifter. One passing through an area with common Brotherhood travel. Likely not a heavy threat but, he noted the necklace they wore. The way the make up shifted into plain skin. The eyes. Things that would maintain consistency, just in case.

No hunting, but you never know what will open the door. His frown deepened.

Genuine shock crossed the Kiffar’s face after the initial processing of what the young man had shared, purely unexpected. His brow lowered and lips pursed as a dark look broke his casual air so far. Disturbed and contemplative, something perhaps even sympathetic or more? Yeoni started to say something but cut off when Nepeta looked up and snapped about the flower.

Sudden exasperation.

“It’s fine, creative. Just…it’s a napkin,” Yeo grimaced a smile, placating as his hand pressed into his jacket.

Exhaling, he glanced past the not-Echani and met the gaze of a human leaning against a wall and cane nearby. The man’s attention was likely grabbed by Nepeta’s annoyed comment, but something of the vibe felt a bit more sly eavesdropping. Yeo cleared his throat and scooted to the edge of the booth. Standing with a hand to steady his balance for a brief second, he gathered and zipped up his coat. Whatever Nepeta was saying, her didn’t seem like he had even noticed, making an offer instead, “Excuse me for a moment, going to check on how food is coming. I’ll bring an extra smoothie for you to try. Alright.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before walking away with some sway to his step. As he passed where the human made was hanging around, he stopped and flashed a brief smile. “Hey, place is getting pretty busy. If you need a seat, you can have mine.”

Cole met the gaze once Yeo approached. Caught. Well, he was given a peaceful option to exit the situation at least. It was pure spur of the moment and he had no desire to cause issue by trying to pretend anything to linger for longer. The Human did not return the smile, shaking his head as he eyes glanced down.

“You need it more than me it seems.”

What could have caused the man to be actively bleeding, was lost to Cole. He shifted to stand, masking the wince that came with it but instead of him limping off, the shapeshifter ran. They bumped into him, carrying more knives for certain. Other items too.

Clearly upset, and with bones breaking and fixing themselves all along the way. There was nothing particularly stand out about the end of the interaction which had its own indications.

For some reason he had the urge to go after them. Which, mentally knowing how many knives they had, was a dumb idea. Yet, the idea persisted.

She? Looked too young to be reacting in a way that he could understand. It bothered him. The flash of a teenage face, and knowing she carried weapons and booze and clearly wasn’t… right. It wasn’t his business, and yet?

Was dumb ideas part of being a better person?

It’d explain Sofila…

The Kiffar paused having too been noticed. He chuffed lightly, a reassurance halting on his tongue when he noticed the man was content in leaving and Yeo was fine with letting him. He too moved to leave when the audible sound of joints popping and bones cracking, of rushed, approaching footsteps hit his ears. Blinking at the platinum and pastel going past, he watched as Nepeta fled the diner quickly, seemingly shifting or losing control of their form at the same time.

Perhaps he should have lied about the ‘flower.’

A few quick thoughts rumbled through his mind. Why were their shifts so aggressive? Shaken by emotions? The situation assured any doubt that Nepeta likely hadn’t approached him for anything nefarious beyond flirting for some booze – if that cantina tactic was used earlier. And…he only just realized they looked similar to Luka. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a type.

A sigh. Yeo glanced at the man beside him, gave a nod and departed – only to realize they were heading in the same direction. A second awkward wince of a smile and a gesture to go on, he pulled back. Biding his time, he waited till he could catch Luka’s attention from across the diner, mouthing that he was going to the restroom before heading into the store proper.

<@244244163002892288>

Cole didn’t return the second or third awkward smile either, though did with the nods. Best to just, keep it as quiet as possible. Though he did cringe internally after realising they’d tried to walk away from each other in the same direction. Oh well. Quickly resolved could have been a conflict but wasn’t, and dumb plan now initiated. Stars damn it all.

Cole stepped into the bathroom. It wasn’t difficult to discern where the chaos had travelled, doors still swinging from her impact and the sound of sobs failingly muffled confirming the obvious.

Now what?

The stall door the shapeshifter had slammed behind themself was shut though, from the waver in it yet, not locked. He decided to knock on the side of the stall’s wall, rather than the door. Or saying anything, frankly, as Cole couldn’t exactly claim to know what would or wouldn’t be annoying as kark. Depending what got screamed or thrown at him, well, that’d decide the next step instantaneously.

Who the kark was there? Cole paused long enough to mentally berate himself for trying to do something he had no damn skills for.

“Does my answer vary my chances of being stabbed?” He asked, instead of directly answering. What would his name mean to her? Nothing. Saying a concerned bystander would be the first way to make himself shut off. Logically, well- hopefully.

“No. However you are in a bathroom.” Cole replied, his steps an inconsistent thud-clack, clunk as he crossed to the dispenser. He tossed the first one dangling free into the trash before grabbing a generous handful of the tissues.

Frankly, he wasn’t exactly convinced she wouldn’t stab him but he’d come in here to help, so refusing to do so on that basis didn’t really make much sense. So, the Human nudged the stall door, trying to make sure it didn’t smack into her on it’s arc as well as stopping before he could properly see her. With that fine balance managed as best as he could, Cole put his arm awkwardly around the door so she could take them.

Cole snorted, allowing himself the laugh as it’d likely prove useful. He’d stepped away to lean against a sink as soon as the napkins disappeared. If the avoidance of thanks even registered with him, it wasn’t regarded as important.

“Just a stranger. I’m not kind but I’m not the kind of scum that kidnaps people. Take it as you will, though I’ve been stabbed more than enough times at this point so…” He trailed off, searching for some quip to fill the gap and falling short. She’s literally been experimented on dumbass. He cleared his throat, allowing silence to fall.

In contrast to ‘the stranger’s’ constant movement, Cole was almost unnaturally still now he’d found a perch. He was dressed as usual, a button up shirt covered by a large jacket, plain pants all in plain covers. The only significance to his appearance was his own decoration of scarring, over his eyebrow, up his cheek from the jaw, one vertically down near his nose, barely missing icy blue eyes. Ones on his neck implied what was only visible elsewhere in the scars on his hands and the obvious prosthetic leg the man was keeping weight off of currently.

“Most of mine have paid for it at this point. A few loose strings.” Cole commented. It felt wrong, to say that to a child. It was uncomfortable. They couldn’t look more different and yet. “I have a feeling you’ve heard most of the questions I could think to ask. So I won’t. Do you still want a smoothie?”

Of all the things he could benefit from by listening to that conversation, this wasn’t the expected one. Hopefully it didn’t cause her to draw on him but, well, he carried his own weapons for a reason.

The blurred lines of distant stars suddenly stopped stretching across space and returned to the normal dots one might expect to see, as The Punisher dropped out of hyperspace. Alarm beacons rang out and lights flashed as Warlord Vincent Brujah and Raider Jaz Holden quickly shared a glance. Almost hissing out of anger, Jaz spoke.

“I knew we’d be close, but I didn’t think you’d stretch us quite this far…”

“Oh, I suppose you want to give piloting a shot next time?” a droid voice returned. “It’s a little bit different than flying around one of those jetpacks.”

“That is not what I mea….”

“Fuel systems are critically low.” an automated voice rang out as the buzzing continued.

“No kidding!” Jaz screamed out.

Rolling his eyes, Vincent spotted the station.

“There it is, DT. Get us there before this thing loses all power.”

“Well, if you would have let me navigate us through the asteroid field, we’d still have plenty of fuel.” the sassy droid brain shot back.

“Sure, and it would likely be floating in space with the remnants of this ship!” Jaz replied, clearly frustrated with the droid’s attitude.

“Unlike you, I don’t hit on space trash.”

The Mandalorian’s blood pressure was rising. Anger was flooding over his body. “Was this what it felt like to be a Sith?” he wondered to himself.

“What the kark is that supposed to mean?!”

“We all saw the Zabrak lady you were slumming around with.” the droid responded in a complete deadpan manner.

Jaz was close to screaming and reaching for his WESTAR-35, but Vincent couldn’t help but smirk under his helmet at that line. For all his faults, DT-A1 did manage to have a wicked sense of humor. Slamming his fist down next to the control console, Brujah finally reacted.

“ENOUGH!! You two stop with this bickering! DT, get us to the station. Now!”

The landing gear extended as the ship approached. As it hovered a few meters above the landing site, the ship lost power and dropped to the ground with a loud thud. Checking the screen for any signs of damage, the Sith was surprised to note that the only warnings referred to the state of the empty fuel systems. He let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank you for flying Punisher. Now get me some fuel.” the droid shot as the rear hatch of the ship lowered with a hiss.

Pressing a button on the console, Vincent spoke.

“Frank, give me a status update. How do things look back there?”

“All clear, Master Brujah.”

“Very well. Stay with the ship while we investigate and get supplies.”

“Understood.” the IG droid responded.

With that, the two humans stood and exited the ship. As soon as they were a good distance away, Jaz spoke.

“When we get back to Seraph, if you don’t wipe that thing’s memory and personality, I’ll do it with my blaster…”

Vincent chuckled.

“Oh, calm down, Jaz. We made it, didn’t we? Now let’s see if we can get something decent to eat before we go out there again.”

With a whoosh the doors opened. Brujah and Jaz had entered The Shame Corner.

“Cole.” He filled in, unsure as to why she asked like that. Nor what a gladiolus was, actually. He’d have to search the term, or just ask Sofila, later. For now, he straightened up, the prosthetic digging uncomfortably into flesh yet unused to the pressure. “Is there a name you go by? Or something I can call you.”

They didn’t draw on him for having eavesdropped. Good enough for now. Cole didn’t relax, but he did allow himself to release the specific tension on his free hand that would’ve allowed a hasty draw of his pistol had the worst come to pass. He glanced over her once more, finding her eyes still watching him not unlike some of Lulaire’s more predatory critters stalking prey. Yet, there wasn’t active malice.

“Do you want it in here or should I get a table to meet at?”

If he were a shapeshifter, no one would know his true face.

“Changing didn’t sound like a pleasant experience.” Cole commented, unsure what to call them. Her? “I can get you a smoothie. I’m not getting fined or kicked out to get you anything stronger.”

He was glad she’d wanted to not eat in here, noting the quick switch to make the outfit into more of a disguise, hiding features below fabric. It made sense, and worked fine. Once she’d settled as still as she got, he began walking. Anything else was beyond his to process, though there was a warmth. In her adjustment, the calming. Or maybe he was just inhaling the latent cleaning fumes sitting in the air.

Dumbass.

Eventually, Cole added onto the comments a simple, “No, I’m not,” to her remark at his leg. It was painfully obvious, perhaps more so than the actual discomfort of it currently. “It’s new.”

Finding the pharmaceutical section of the Shame Corner wasn’t hard, he just retraced back to the beauty and hygenics area. Yeoni meandered through the aisle, pausing and grabbing an item or two, dressing, bandages, some bacta salve. He tucked them into the crook of his arm, not bothering to hide them, and made the mental note to inform Luka they’d need to pay for it later. Unfortunately.

A drawn out sigh escaped the Kiffar’s lips. He strolled his way towards the fresher and showers, only fumbling and dropping the bandages once. Freshers had too much foot traffic, leading to inevitably getting questioned and unwanted attention…well, part of him wanted it. He preened internally, humming as he confirmed with a glance around the tiled room that no one presently was using. Claiming a spot in the corner of the row of sinks, the man deposited the supplies and reached for the soap dispenser.

“Mmm, now I’m lying on the cold hard ground–”

Wrrrrrrr

“Ohh,” Yeo sung-whispered a popular space pop song to himself and triggering the dispenser a second time without a thought, Wrrrrrrr.

Hands cleaned more than thoroughly, Yeo set about stripping down his tops. Jacket folded and placed on the counter, shirt buttons undone. Wait…he could have sworn he had worn a belt…With a shrug, he pressed a hand against mottled skin already bruised here and there on his torso with a couple shallow nicks. His lip curled before shifting his attention where it was needed, a soaked through bandage around his midriff to the left side and about two inches from his lungs. Luckily it seemed the abdominal external oblique muscles took the brunt of it, equally lucky his toxin induced dyspnea hadn’t been worse. .

Yeo tutted in approval of the dressing as he peeled it off. It appeared there must have been just enough bacta on the ship to deal with the more internal penetrated wound, leaving a shallower section to heal naturally and he had reopened it. The doctor set about cleaning and treating himself with less than his usually coordinated hands.

A loud sip of coffee came from the entryway to the bathroom. Maxim had entered, loosely pursing someone who appeared to have been hastily grabbing medical supplies. He had recently dismissed Leena to go back to her shopping and stood up to walk around with his mug after getting it refilled.

He wouldn’t have followed really, if they hadn’t had made a clatter dropping some bandage container with even more supplies tucked under their arm.

So now he stood casually, mug raised to his lips with his other arm at his side, thumb hooked into the dark leather holster strap while silvery white eyes took in the scene before him. It wasn’t an unfamiliar one. Infact, he’d been in this Kiffar’s place many times. Numerous scars across his body wouldn’t be as bad as they were if he had actually sought help when patching them up. Amber always made a point to give him Kist about it whenever he sported a new one or grimaced at accidentally opening one up.

“привет” he greeted when his slurping inevitably made the Kiffar look over at him. He raised his mug in a Half toast before gesturing to the scattered medical supplies. “Need help?”

Cole tensed at hearing his own voice. It sounded off but of course it would when spoken from a different mouth than his own. Oh he did not like that.

“Its not the worst I’ve had, and certainly better than the alternative. The pain will fade and it’s best I know when it does.” He spoke, voice unbothered by her mimicry even if his shoulders would speak differently to the keen eye. “I hope whoever took his arm died as certainly as the one who caused losing my leg to be necessary.”

Hed do it again without thought. But he’d also see the galaxy burn before Sofila came so close to death again that such a situation could reoccur.

He didn’t actually know where the smoothie counter was, so took a path through the diner, trusting the one who he had no right to name to keep her word on sharp objects long enough to spot a sign with the menu for smoothies on it.

Yeoni stopped and stared at the man, assessing him, his whole person and demeanor in a sweeping glance. He unfurled from his slight stretch to clean the wound with a sharp exhale, and tossed a soaked pink paper towel onto a splayed out, ‘sanitized’ work space of more layered towels. Grabbing a small bottle of disinfectant, the Kiffar leaned against the wall kiddy cornered to the sinks.

“Probably be easier with more hands or, well, others’. heh,” Yeoni replied with a lopsided smile.

Maxim nodded, taking another sip of his caf as he made his way over. He set the mug down on the edge of the sink and leaned down, taking a look at the wound. “Hm.” He grunted and picked up some cotton like material, then carefully pressed it against the man under the wound. He nodded to the disinfectant and spoke “Rinse it first.”

He seemed to think for a moment, glancing over his shoulder to the door before kneeling infront of the Kiffar. “Can you handle it? Or should I do it for you?” He didn’t look up at him, instead, the Arkanian focused on the wound.

Oh the irony at being told what to do next.

The corner of his lip ticked upward in mild amusement as he unscrewed and flicked the cap off the vial. It clattered into the sink and rolled-slid to a stop. Shrugging his shirt off his left shoulder to give them better access to the wound, he chuffed, “I can, yeah.”

He proceeded, his wrist seizing for half a second and jerking the brief pour a bit higher than needed, but it did the job. The clear liquid rinsed over the stab wound, a dagger sized hole, and pooled lightly in the torn slit. Maxim was likely no stranger to the signs of previous bacta use and reopened wounds. The Kiffar set the bottle down off to the side.

“Thanks, by the way, for the help,” he said, glancing down before grabbing the bacta salve. “The name’s Yeoni, or call me Yeo. Pretty sure this,” he gestured in the air in a circle towards the injury with the bacta in hand, “counts for first name basis, heh.”

He glanced down, unable to catch the gaze but somehow knowing it was there.

“I’m sure they will.” He spoke after a long moment, knowing he wasn’t lying as he said it. But, they were at the counter.

“You allergic to anything?” Cole asked, considering simply getting her Sofila’s order if the unnamed had none.

He remained silent, carefully cleaning what he can of the wound after its been washed. He remains careful, but doesn’t entirely avoid actually cleaning. After a few moments, he would nod and press a clean cloth against the wound, drying it before peeling it away for the Bacta. “Kadnikov Maxim Victorovich. Maxim.” He glanced up at Yeo before prepping some adhesive bandages with his free hand, the other holding a fresh pressure bandage at the ready.

“I don’t usually, but my girlfriend does.” He answered, stepping up to the cashier, “Two Jorgan fruit smoothies please.”

They nodded, taking his credit chits and gesturing to the pick up counter. He limped over, and within a minute or two there was two identical purple smoothies placed there for-

“Cole!”

The man offered a polite but thin smile, thanking the still present smoothie-maker and taking both drinks over to the unnamed. He held one out, waiting for her take it and starting for a table. He couldn’t go far with 2 drinks in arm.

“There’s plenty of blame to assign to me. I could’ve reached out but I didn’t. I felt like I was too busy and I didn’t want to get in the way of your recovery. But now… well, I have a lot less going on for me.” Lektra sighed. She had such a hard time being honest, especially after everything that happened. Just like her mother, it seemed that lying was just second nature.

The Firrerreo took a long sip of her caf, closing her eyes as she braces for her words. “Sebastian and I had a… falling out.” No matter how many time the Kendis said it, she still couldn’t believe that everything had ended, especially in the way that it had.

Hed settled without second thought into the opposing bench, glancing over the current neighbour’s sitting around them and those milling in and through the area. He remained close to the exit of the seat. Faces, flickers of conversation. Familiar enough, he looked over in time to catch frustration turn to delight.

He couldn’t help smile, small but real. Warmth through the otherwise icy gaze that usually was set deep into his features.

Cole drank his own, enjoying it well enough though it wasn’t exactly his thing.

He let the quiet continue quite content that she who had suffered, they who’d been kept from nice things, he who held so much anger still, had the opportunity to simply enjoy this.

Yeo grimaced and gritted his teeth with the careful but thorough cleaning. The discomfort came in the audible sound of a faint, sharp inhale but the pain was worth it, better than an infection and who knows how thorough the previous treatment was. When his aid pulled back to prep the dressings, Yeoni went about applying the blue tinted bacta, ensuring a liberal amount worked into the puncture wound. He exhaled as he did, measuring his breathing and embracing the cold tingling sensation with some relief.

“Maxim, eh?” the Kiffar repeated for himself, thankful of the short option. If he recognized any part of the name, there was no sign of it. Capping the bacta canister more ceremoniously than the disinfectant, he set it too to the side before signaling a go ahead to Maxim. Yeo stood still while they traded off working. He observed some of what the other did but would find it awkward to just stare down at the hunched man. So, he glanced around the fresher and stared at holo-info boards on handwashing techniques near no one paid attention to and likely only accomplish half of it. Eventually, silence was too loud.

“Hm,” Yeo grunted lightly, “Seems this isn’t the first time you’ve had to patch someone up. Work in medical? Military?” He paused, tone shifting apologetically, “Ah, apologies, forgive my prying. I’m not…used to this situation here.”

Luka frowned, drawn in by her words. They felt guilty for getting injured in the first place, and having others worry for them. They crossed their cybernetic arm under the other, partially hiding it’s gold and black gleaming surface. A new scratch marred it’s surface, and the Human rubbed their thumb over it’s surface.

They returned their drifting thoughts to her, focusing on her pain instead of theirs. They caught the hesitation in her tone, half-truths and more withheld torment. They set down their stash of food and reached out to put a hand on her shoulder - to pull her into a firm hug if she allowed.

“Oh, darling…” They crooned. “Men are awful.”

They could not tell her of their own misfortune. Not now. They offered up a soft smile and put on their own charade, that her news was the worst shared between them.

As Luka went to offer her a hug, Lektra would notice a wrapped bandage underneath Luka’s right sleeve just under the shoulder, visible as they move. They pull their sleeve back down afterward.

If it were anyone else in the building, the young woman would’ve recoiled at the unsolicited touch, but thankfully it was Luka doing the consoling. Lektra didn’t hesitate to lean in for the hug, wrapping her arms around them with her coffee in hand.

As much as she wanted to talk about herself and relieve herself of the burdens of heartbreak, Luka’s bandaged body was of more importance. Whilst they were still entwined, Lektra whispered. “How did you get hurt?”

Maxim lets a gruff chuckle out at the question. He pressed the bandage against the wound securely, then uses the adhesive strips to secure it on place. Between the scraped knuckles and dark bruise on his jaw, he didn’t think it was supremely necessary to explain, but it would’ve been rude not to.

“I’m no stranger to an odd knife wound. I’ve had to patch them up before. Never really used Bacta though. My Nephew, he’s a doctor, convinced me I should keep it on me. Just in case.” He stood up with a groan, pushing his chest forward as he stretched his back. With a roll of his shoulders he stepped away from the man and ran his hands under the cool water of a non messy sink.

“Mm, smart kid, bacta’s a life saver,” Yeoni uttered in acknowledgement. Another passing glance fell upon the scraped knuckles securing the last adhesive, then up to the man’s chin. His question wasn’t really necessary, but it did its job filling the void and gave some contextual clues. Yeo nodded in thanks as Maxim finished and straightened up. He pushed off the wall and set about collecting the bloody and used waste, cleaning up.

…Nephew… doctor…Kadnikov, Kadnikov…

His mind drifted to a familiar black and gold cyberarm, while his hands recapped the disinfectant after fumbling grabbing the cap from the sink twice – damn, hands.

“Would you know a Mikhail?”

Cole watched, raising an eyebrow at her reaction and then- ah. She probably wouldn’t know.

“Brain freeze. It happens if you drink something very cold too fast. You’ve dropped your temperature of your head too quickly so it hurts, it’ll pass in a minute. Just drink a bit slower and it won’t happen again.” He paused before adding on, “Or don’t. My girlfriend gives herself brain freeze a lot, I don’t know if she’s gotten used to it or if she just likes fruit more than it hurts her.”

There was a note of fond exasperation to his words, hidden beneath the metered candor of Cole’s typical speech. But it was there.

“Bit of a mess, but I’m working with it,” they said in an air of passiveness to lessen any concern of Lektra’s. Though as they pulled back and looked her in the eye, they realized she likely would continue to prod for answers. They let out a sigh.

“He…” Luka brought a finger across their neck. “… one of my targets. One I’ve been working on before I was promoted. I need to know what Yeoni might know about them because it’s, well- a mess.” They scratched at the back of their neck, and glanced over towards the refreshers.

“How long has he been in there?” They did not seem as concerned as one might be about it, whether they trusted his promise or trusted the toxin they had used.

Right, the toxin.

“I might have stabbed him?” The raise in tone made it seem they were uncertain, but they were definitely sure of that. “A little bit. He’s doing… better? I’m not sure it’s the first time he’s been stabbed.” Luka’s words tumbled as they spoke. They appeared more perplexed than anything, considering all that had happened. “There’s a lot I haven’t gotten a chance to ask him, yet. But I don’t think he’s run off.”

Returning the nod, Vincent reached up and removed his helmet with a hiss of decompression. He placed the helmet on a hook on his belt and then looked up to meet the Echani’s eyes with his own. He returned a smile, pulling the band out of his hair to let the long black mop flow over his shoulders. Sensing Jaz about to speak, Vincent simply raised a hand to “shush” him before speaking.

“Oh, I believe we’re quite alright. Our navigation droid cut us a bit closer than we were expecting on fuel. Thankfully we found this place just in time… or… perhaps a touch later than just in time.”

About this time Vincent heard a beep from the inside of the helmet that he was now wearing on his hip. Likely the droids trying to reach out to him about something, but it would have to wait for now. Ignoring the call, he continued speaking to the Manager.

“The onboard systems didn’t note any damage from the ‘landing’. he said lifting his hands to do air quotes around the word landing. “However, our fuel supply is completely exhausted. We were hoping to fill up the fuel cells and our stomachs.”

Looking around, Vincent saw aisles upon aisles of supplies. Another beep rang out from the helmet, distracting him before he could fully take in his surroundings. Brujah looked to Jaz.

“Jaz, will you check in on the droids, they seem to have something to say that can’t wait.”

A modulated sigh exited the helmet of the Mandalorian as he walked a short distance away. Turning his attention back to the Manager, Vincent spoke once more.

“By all appearances, it looks like we’ve come to the right place.”

He still couldn’t figure out why he returned to this station time and time again. Of course, he knew the Envoy corps ran it. What kind of director of the Imperial Security Bureau would he be if he didn’t? He never really interacted with people much. Normally, he just docked Watcher One in the hangar, came inside, and impulse-purchased massive amounts of snacks. He thought it best not to bring the Shifting Fate here. The sudden appearance of an Imperial Corvette would likely not be welcome.

He perused the aisles of snacks before tossing in some of his favorites. Various candies, chips, and several bags of Nerf Jerky started filling up the repulsor-powered buggy. It’s a good thing he had a large budget from the Empress. Anarya would kill him for spending this much out of their personal bank account. Even though it wasn’t lacking in funds he found it better to be safe than dead. Particularly after purchasing his own Corvette. He still hadn’t heard the end of that.

Now to find something to drink…

Jai slides over some creds for his food and within a blink of an eye, rushes over to the diner. Approaching the counter shortly after, jerky in mouth he mutters out “One teash pleash! Herpfully you havsh different flavorshes,” as he struggles to form words and swallow his food at the same time.

Cole tilted his head. It was a bit much, really, to speak openly of her to a stranger. He decided to not directly answer, the itching paranoia of being open about emotions directly far worse than simply mentioning her enough to warrant interest.

“I don’t usually indulge in desserts.” It was a good enough response, tip toeing between the lines. He sipped his own once more.

“Do others normally name you when you ask them to?”

“Ah.” He responded initially, understanding now. Separation, it made sense. He’d made his own masks over the years for temporary situations though it had always been while covering his face. Looking so close to one’s father had limited benefits.

Cole hummed. It wasn’t really his responsibility to name them, but it was also a nuisance to simply have them be a face in the roster when he’d actually conversed with them. They were also implying he ought to. They’d called him some plant sounding name, maybe a plant would be a nice oen for them. It was a shame he grew up on a karking urban desert planet.

“I can’t say I’ve named anyone before.” He decided to admit, thinking for another long few moments, “Though you are somebody, even if the face you choose is new… How about Idun? For this face’s name.”

“Please,” Reiden said as he extended his cup toward her. “I can understand that. There have been times where the effort wasn’t worth it to me. Although I think more often I was likely to just remain silent and go about my business more than anything else. Some days, you just don’t want to interact with people.” He laughed, “I’ve always been impressed by the bartenders that pull that off. They seem in short supply sometimes. Other times, they’re just too busy and can’t stop to talk, or listen, and can only try to dig themselves out from the orders. I was like that once, a long time ago. I found myself on Nar Shaddaa and in need of a job. The man I came to work for ran a casino and one night the bar was slammed, so he told me to help out. Talk about a crash course in tending bar. I was very quickly told a few recipes for the most popular drinks and then set to work. It gave me a new appreciation for what they do.”

He took a sip and smiled. A short laugh escaped him upon hearing. “I’m afraid my skills may be rusty from what they once were. I was on bartending duty for only a brief time until they could get someone in that actually knew what they were doing. These days, it’s more limited to making a drink for myself or a couple friends. I worry I’d only hold things up if I tried it again now.” A small smile formed. “But I guess it wouldn’t be impossible.”

“Idun.”

Cole took the hand, the smallness of Idun notable more so when actually in contact but shaking it as he would any other.

When released, he gave it a moment before shifting the topic again. “You probably don’t want to use my likeness. I’d rather you didn’t personally but for your own benefit I wouldn’t recommend it either.”

“A sit down meal sounds great. I’m sure we’ll load up on some snacks, as well, but after a few days out there confined to the ship, a nice warm meal would hit the spot.”

Vincent couldn’t help but overhear Jaz speaking a short distance away.

“No! They aren’t trying to gas you! How would they? You don’t breathe!!”

Jaz put his hand to his helmet in a facepalm.

“It’s fire suppression from your ridiculous landing. Just calm down! We’re working on getting fueled back up. In the meantime, maybe you should power down…” The Mandalorian listened for just a moment before responding, even more angrily. “What do you mean maybe I should power down?! That doesn’t make any… DT! That’s enough! Power down until we’re back onboard!”

The Mandalorian returned to the unamused looking Sith, shaking his head.

“Troubles, Jaz?”

“Nothing I can’t handle, but remember what I said about when we get back to Seraph.”

“Some people think I’m dead. Some aren’t very happy about recently discovering that that isn’t true. Either way it’s likely to get you a knife in the back. It has me.” Cole answered succinctly. He did not let his gaze wander across the fidgeting with the buckle though did note it. It was stolen, almost certainly. That was not his business, however.

His eyes were. He considered it before nodding, the compliment going over his head. He was far from insecure, but he also thought little on his appearance. “If you must, you can copy their appearance.”

“Oh, I have no doubt of that,” he replied, offering the bartender a warm, genuine smile. “I’m not busy, but maybe a little lost in thought from the smell of caf. But I appreciate it, truly. It’s always nice to see a friendly face, especially in places like this. Then again, is there really anywhere else that compares to the Shame Corner? I’ll be sure to swing by the bar the next time I stop in. The service is second to none.”

The knife was noted. A weapon like that would be a good way to recognise it was Idun, or whatever other face she used if the day came they met again.

“Casually implies you will still wear it, though I have nothing to bargain to prevent you from doing otherwise.” He’d warned her, if she didn’t take it for what it was then that was on her. He just hoped that she didn’t end up getting him dragged into some insanity. Not when things were finally calming in his life. “People will call you Farrow if you do. Take that for what you will.”

There. He wasn’t dishing out his life story but if Idun wanted to prepare herself fully, that was the key card to it. He drank more of the smoothie, almost done and slowing down before he gave himself brain freeze.

Maxim had turned, arm extended towards his mug after his hands were throughly cleaned. The questioned caused him to pause, but his fingers carefully hooked the handle of his caf as his head turned to face the other man. His posture was obviously one of surprise, but cautiously hid coiled muscles, ready to shatter his mug over Yeo’s nose if the conversation went awry.

“I do. He’s part of the family. How do you know him?” The light tone in his questioning gave little away, but his muscles still were tensed as he eased into a normal stance facing the Kiffar.

Cole wasn’t a fan of any of that. It was uncomfortable, listening to his own voice bad enough without the addition of… everything else.

Something wanted to snap that he wasn’t kind but that really undid the point of him trying to be. There was nothing to rationalize.

So Cole settled for shrugging in response, tilting his cup in a half motivated toast and finishing what little was left.

“I’m afraid I’m not the poetic sort. But it has been interesting meeting you Idun. Don’t let trying cut away your loose ends tie you down.”

“People like us never escape the smell of smoke.” Cole stated, quietly but without any softening. Not that he had done that much, really. It was spoken with the same candor as everything else. The same plain expression.

He took the little note, pocketing it and giving a small nod.

“I’d give you mine but I’m past my days of running across systems to fight people. Mostly. I’m sure you’ll be able to find me if you ever do really need me. You would be welcome, if you needed it.”

“It won’t be anything new.” He commented, but glad she accepted the offer. Even if it was given without direction, he’d also given her more than enough to track him down. If he was assuming correctly about Idun, at least. Maybe he wasn’t, but, well. Cole wasn’t keen to drop his address here, either way.

It was weird to watch them shift so calmly but it made sense. He gave them no reaction to that, nodding in return to the smile that remained.

“Take care Idun.”

He let her walk away, angling the cup to observe the lack of liquid for a few purposefully prolonged moments before beginning to work on standing up again.

The rest was nice, but now it’d be more sore walking for a bit. Alas.

Looking towards the bar Korvyn could see an extremely busy bartender serving drink. There were a few faces he knew in there as well. It was very tempting but duty called. He had a short window here and needed to get back on the go.

“Next time.” He thought to himself but that seemed to be everytime anymore. He was always moving and on the go. Even when he was back in the Monolith there was always a fire to put out.

He walked towards the rows of refrigerated drinks and started perusing the offereings. Space beers were in order for sure. One he entered Hyperspace it would be smooth flying and he could actually relax for a bit. He grabbed a 6 pack of his favorite Coruscanti Beer and his favorite carbonated beverage ‘23’. Named for the supposed 23 flavors in it.

Now to figure out the tally here. While the stations was essentially pay what you want. Korvyn also know it was really pay what you can and wouldn’t stiff the establishment. Brotherhood ties or not it wasn’t a good look. He counted out a pretty good sum of credits and “paid” for his items.

“That should cover the items and some extra for the staff.” He said to the cashier and added. “A pleasure as always.”

“Ergh yuh-yes,” as Jai finishes his bite. “Could I uhh get a hot caffeinated tea, just one will do please.” Jai digs into his pocket and takes out a few creds, sifting threw them as he awaits for the price from one of the Shistavanens.

Jai gives a sly smirk, “ahh, alright then.” Jai slides a cred stick across the counter. “A tip for your services, say uhm, where’s your favorite spot for some entertainment by the way? I’m looking for a spot to really enjoy this tea.”

Vincent gave Avalon a thankful nod and then waved Jaz toward the seating area for the diner. They walked past the aisles of supplies and snacks, Vincent seemingly focused only on finding a seat, while Jaz carefully took in their surroundings. As they reached the dining area, Vincent removed his cloak and hung it on the back of his chair. He plopped down with a sigh. Jaz took a seat at the opposite side of the table, making sure he had as much of a view of his surroundings as possible. Brujah raised an eyebrow at the Mandalorian.

“Something have you spooked, Jaz? You seem rather… on edge.”

“It’s nothing.” Jaz replied. “The droids have me anxious, and I’m ready to return to Seraph. Just keeping my eyes open for the next possible disaster.”

Vincent smiled. This was one of the many reasons that he kept Jaz around. The man was such a great hunter and fighter that Vincent himself could stand to relax at times.

“Relax for now. My senses tell me that we’re in good company and that the only disaster that may befall us is indigestion.”

“Maybe for you. You know full well that I can’t eat here.” Jaz said pointing to his helmet.

“Well then, it sounds like you have no disasters to concern yourself with at all. Who knows… I saw a smoothie machine back there… maybe they could grind you up a nice steak meal and put it in a glass for you with an extra long straw.”

“Very funny…” Jaz said, seemingly emotionless.

The two men continued their banter as they waited for menus.

Luka’s hesitance to share the full truth didn’t go unnoticed to the Firrerreo, something she assumed she had coming after their time apart.

“Wait wait… You stabbed Yeoni? Is that how you got hurt? The two of you fought?”

“Not intentionally. I didn’t know it was him, and he didn’t know it was me.” Luka kept their voice lowered, encouraging Lektra to do the same with a hushing gesture. “Look, I’m trying to figure things out. He only just woke up. I… should probably check in on him.” They chewed on the inside of their cheek as they looked toward the refreshers, then back to Lektra.

“There’s… not another exit out of those, is there?”

If Yeoni’s brief glance away from the sink he started rinsing out before washing his own hands caught any change in demeanor, he didn’t say anything. All he noted was surprise, which wasn’t unusual when a stranger utters knowing a relative. He finished washing, grabbed a couple paper towels and leaned against the wall behind him as he dried his hands thoroughly.

“He helped out my partner, commissioned for a cyberlimb. Pretty impressive work.” The Kiffar sounds genuinely approving.

Lektra re-hushed her voice as an even more concerned look pushed itself upon her features. “The refreshers? No. Just the one.”

The Firrerreo reached out and placed a hand on Luka’s shoulder, gripping tight. “Are you safe?”

Maxim let out a quiet breath, raising his mug to his lips to cover the soft sound. He paused, then took a sip. After which he seemed to process Yeo’s words fully, and gave a nod with a soft smile. “Yeah, sounds like him. He’s talented, no doubt. Gets it from his dad.”

His lip twitched as he glanced behind him at the doors, filling the air with another sip. “Well, I think you’ll hold up fine enough.” He nodded back at the other man as he turned to face him.

“I’m not… sure? I mean, I don’t think he’ll start a fight in the middle of this place. He’s gotta be smarter than that. His stuff is in my ship.” Luka gestured in the vague direction of the landing area.

Were they holding on to Yeoni’s promise? Perhaps. Yeoni had every reason to run - or kill them - and little reason to stay. A part of Luka wanted to hold on to the belief that they didn’t have such a poor taste in men.

Okay, maybe a little bit.

Luka chewed on their lip again, glancing back and forth once more. They sighed, exhaling sharp through their nose. “Maybe I could use some backup. But just… don’t go in guns blazing, okay? I don’t know the whole story, here.”

“I wouldn’t attribute intelligence to someone who stabbed you, Luka. It’s a trait I wouldn’t attribute to most men…” Lektra’s expression darkened as she thought of her own situation, reminiscing on the literal torture she enacted upon her now ex-boyfriend. If it wasn’t for her family, she surely would’ve given up on both love and any sort of personal connection.

The young woman removed her hand from Luka’s shoulder with a sigh. “I’ll try not to instigate anything but I’m not going to pull my punches if it comes to that.”

Reiden watched Ira settle in. It was different seeing her not behind the bar, but certainly not an unwelcome change. And having someone to talk to wasn’t a bad thing either, even if it wasn’t at a bar. He found himself wondering if the hiring at the Shame Corner was purposely driven to get such people, or if they were drawn to the station and how it was run, or perhaps a combination of the two. Everyone he had interacted with was always friendly and helpful, almost more so than would typically be expected. He began to think about what their backgrounds might have been like but stopped that train of thought. Everyone had a past that was their own and sometimes it was best to leave it at that. He knew he could relate to that, at least. Not that he didn’t mind sharing, but it usually didn’t involve relative strangers - most of the time.

His attention was diverted by the rush of movement by the caf. In short order, the tiny dragon species known to be the mascot of the station revealed itself. The antics drew a smile to his face, reminding him of how he often saw pets react to their owners or people they particularly liked.

“That must be one of the famous tailrings I’ve heard you have around here. They’re beautiful creatures. What’s its name?”

“I might have to call on his consult sometime,” Yeo uttered absent mindedly. He paused mid throwing out the towels as if reflecting on his own words before shrugging. The Kiffar turned his attention to buttoning up his shirt once more with only a mild grimace. He glanced up and nodded in agreement, “Yeah, should do the trick. Thanks again.”

“Hey, I’m hard to hit,” Luka replied defensively as they crossed their arms over their chest. “You act like I’m harmless.” They smiled briefly, then focused on the task ahead.

Swift strides brought them to the refreshers. As they walked, Luka’s gaze wandered to the corners, the spots where things might be obscured, then to the faces of those he found there. As they glanced between Maxim and Yeoni, Luka’s eyes narrowed with both curiosity and suspicion.

“Oh… hey.” Luka tensed with one hand holding the door open, uncertain of the stranger in the room. <@160141735354171394> <@244244400488710155>

“Probably don’t want to get stabbed again, or-“ he paused halfway through what he was saying to glance at the door that had just swung open. The silver eyed Arkanian was leaning back against a sink next to Yeo as the Kiffar finished his cleaning. He gave Luka a once over, eyes drifting to the prosthetic hand. To which he glanced at Yeo, making a light gesture with his mug to Luka. “This the guy?”

He had of course been referencing the ornate cybernetic hand that poked from Luka’s sleeve. <@244244400488710155> <@301514304845381632>

Time enough had passed. Nathan clicked off his data pad, glancing around the space outside of his booth. The Pantoran-hybrid had paid little attention to the outer world since diving deeper into the machinations of slicing.

Now however, it was time to head back before it got too late in the day. Nate was more confident than he had been for a long time, but he still hesitated to travel at certain times. It was time to go home, safely. And then let Mikhail know he met family.

Yes, because most people desire to be stabbed–

Mid-pulling on his jacket, Yeoni’s internal sarcastic musing cut off as his attention was pulled in tandem with Maxim’s to the door. His gaze fell on Luka and held there, a small smile tugging at his lips subconsciously with an inhale. There may have been a quick procession of thoughts on how to get this fresher to themselves from bland to colorful. Alas, his prolonged eye contact broke to catch the inquisitive gesture beside him. Inferencing easily, he hummed an affirmative response, “Mmm.”

The Kiffar fixed his sleeves flush with his jacket’s and returning his attention to Luka. “Hey. Sorry for the disappearance, needed to freshen up. Did you have a good talk with…” Yeo paused and leaned a bit to see past the lithe Human, “your friend.”

<@227960499948486666> <@301514304845381632>

The second most recent addition to the Kendis clan, beat out only by Rue, made herself more known by getting as close to Luka as she could without completely invading their personal space. (she was definitely invading their personal space).

“My name is Lektra Kendis, and we’d like to know what’s going on in here.” <@160141735354171394> <@227960499948486666>

Luka found themself a bit stuck in the door as they stepped back at the same time Lektra stepped forward. Their heart rate quickened as their escape route was blocked. There was no sign of a weapon at least. However, that gave them little ease. Stuck between two larger men and a shorter woman ready to kick their ass, Luka grimaced in an attempt at an easy smile.

“Look, we need to talk. I don’t know who your friend is, Yeo, but you’re not leaving this station with him.” <@160141735354171394> <@244244400488710155>

Maxim’s eyebrows furrowed, he glanced back at Yeo and slowly stood from his position against the sink. He now found himself naturally standing between the two parties, Caf mug still held tight as he eyed the two in the doorway.

“Just two men chatting over a cup of Caf, Miss Kendis. And who’s to say he couldn’t if he wanted?” Maxim certainly did not like the strange aggressiveness being pressed into the room from the two newcomers. There was no need to heighten tensions, but, he also didn’t quite like being shoved to the side like he was. The hand not holding his mug was conveniently the one he’d draw the slugthrower in his holster from, but for now it rested idly hooked in a belt loop.

<@301514304845381632> <@227960499948486666> <@244244400488710155>

Syrena made her way into the station, the white silk of a cloak silently trailing behind her with each movement. Her silver eyes shimmered in the shadow cast from her hood with a look of curiosity, as she entered the main bar, glancing at those currently present. Syrena could pick up on a sense of tension in the current surroundings, catching her interest.

Not yet speaking, she merely leaned against the side of a wall and began to tune her typical instrument of choice, a seven-string hallikset. Her fingers lightly danced over the strings, slow and deliberate, as Syrena played the low hum of a melody like that of a whispered warning. After a moment, she set her instrument aside and gazed up at the bar.

“They’re serving drinks here, right? Ah, I could for a nice, cold glass right about now,” Syrena couldn’t help but say aloud. However, she quickly frowned upon a sudden realization. “Jedi’s aren’t supposed to have alcohol, on second thought, or so I’ve read in the scriptures…” Syrena quietly sighed to herself, picking up her instrument once again instead.

He watched the small creature. It was nice to see one up close like this, and not just in a picture or as the Shame Corner’s somewhat stylized logo that adorned all of its merchandise. It reminded him that there truly was a vast array of animals across the galaxy, ranging from normal to exotic, and sometimes downright strange.

“It’s nice to meet you, Olive,” he said with a smile. “I know someone that would probably love to see a tailring, if not have one, or more, of her own. She always has all manner of critters, although gizkas have been a constant throughout the years. One of them even ventured into the air vents years ago and wound up in my quarters. I tried to return him, but I think he got a little attached, so my friend told me to keep him, as long as I took good care of him.”

A burst of laughter interrupted the budding tension and face off. The deep-chested sound of amusement at a surprised revelation. Yeoni grabbed the partly used bacta canister and staggered up beside Maxim, leaning on his shoulder and pointing a finger at him with the occupied hand.

“Baby girl, I don’t know him!”

The mirth drawing in his exclamation settled with a sigh. Bemusement melted away to a more passive, serious look as he straightened up and gave the other man his space again. Dark umber eyes met Luka’s auburn brown, the bacta flipping in hand, “I gave you–”

–the canister fumbled from his grasp and clattered, rolled across the floor. The Kiffar paused and blinked at it. Right, fine motor skills still hindered. He shook his head and abandoned the would be weapon in a pinch, rubbing a hand over his face. “Gave my word I wouldn’t leave without you, still won’t.”

Yeo rested a hand in an empty pocket and passed a glance around the group. He nodded to the Firrerreo, his partner, then the recently acquainted in turn. “Lektra, Luka. Maxim. He kindly offered to aid me in patching up,” he explained in some attempt to clear up some apparent misunderstanding or assumptions.

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“You know, I wondered about that. I’m not sure I’d heard of them before coming here. I always meant to look into it a little and I guess I just forgot. Always unfortunate when things like that happen, but they’re definitely in a better place now and seem to be doing well.” His smile widened as he raised his caf to her, taking a sip. “Thanks, Ira. I appreciate that. I’ll be sure to pass it along the next time I see her if she’s interested.”

Luka bristled at the pet name. “I’m not your ‘baby girl’,” the Human protested. “And if this schutta isn’t part of your crew, he can leave now. Thanks for the assistance.” They stepped into the room and aside to allow for passage, their narrowed gaze fixed on Maxim. Though they trusted Yeoni enough to allow the man to leave, they made a note of his appearance, just in case.

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Looking over at the female at the bar, Syrena couldn’t help but let a small smile through, glad to be in the company of another Zeltron.

“I suppose you’re right,” She said with a light-hearted laugh as she settled in a bit more at the bar, eyeing the various bottles. It would seem that for the newly converted Jedi, some old habits died harder than others.

“I’ll take uhh… Something light, perhaps? No, scratch that. I’ll just take whatever your recommendation is,” Syrena finally decided. “One for the road.”

The young Firrerreo didn’t hesitate to take the new gap in the entrance to cross into the restroom to facilitate the potential ass beating she may need to provide. The woman took a position beside Luka, her eyes darting once to the weapon near Maxim’s hand. Things were proving to be interesting for sure.

Yeo hummed. He did well enough to cut off the endeared sound, offering up a apologetic shrug and smile. Part of him noted Lektra positioning herself into the room, while his attention was drawn by a questioning look from Maxim. He offered his own back with a twitch of a grin, a silent ‘Well, you heard them. Get out.’ Waiting.

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