Another apathetic decicred in the tips jar despite excellent service, another day at the Shame Corner. It was a particularly busy time, a rush hour of sorts, with packed seating at the diner, lines for the hot food, and even a line for the refresher, a rare occurrence for the Best Bathrooms in the Galaxy; the station prided itself on its number of comods as much as their quality. But that’s what happened when you had big sporting events to show on the Holoscreen in the bar, be it huttball championships or, recently, whatever the hell was going on on Arx with the fighting matches.
Regardless, the employees were armed with smiles no matter how saccharine and ready to serve, snacks and merchandise flying. The bulletin board was also particularly stacked today: it seemed a lot of postings were in, for the Envoys or anyone else who would take them.
The Mandalorian stumbled through the station, one hand on his helmet, the other stretched out before him as blindly made his way deeper. Idris thought he could feel a dent in his helmet’s normally perfectly smooth beskar, but maybe that was his skull and not the helmet.
“This is so not where I parked my ship,” he muttered. Ears ringing, head pounding, eyes thankfully okay due to the filtered light coming through his visor, he attempted to straighten up, sober just enough to realize that he still had several more rounds of a championship to oversee. None of the many patrons of The Shame Corner seemed to pay him any mind.
Idris caught one of the Holoscreens playing some highlights from Arx out of the corner of his eye. He was about to point at himself on the screen when his tummy began a rumbling.
“Food. Right. Yes,” he said with a sigh. The lines were long. He stumbled over to the closest one, waiting his turn.
The small woman stood by the magazines, her violet eyes scanning the titles and growing more and more confused. Gunsmithing magazines, Bow and Game, PlayHutt.
…PlayHutt? Since her return to the ‘normalcy’ of life, everything was just confusing.
“How does anyone…” She muttered softly to herself. With a shake of her head, she turned away from the magazines - that Hutt smiling lecherously on the cover taking up residence in her mind with all the other nightmares the young woman carried.
Drinks, she decided. She needed something to drink.
And to find out what was making that delicious smoked meat scent that filled the building. All alone, just as she had always been since…
Shaking her head, Mihoshi smiled and continued to wander around the building looking at the different trinkets and food stuffs. Maybe one of those things wrapped in flatbread…
The first thing one would notice was the man clad in an extremely out-of-place primrose yellow tuxedo, adorned with a bronze cumberbund and the greaves of a suit of Mandalorian armor standing in the magazine aisle. He was holding a magazine open, sideways, staring with a furrowed brow. Any curious onlooker would soon catch the title - “PlayHutt” - and perhaps match the confused expression. With a shake of his head he turned the magazine back rightways as he closed it and replaced it on the shelf.
“A remarkable display or acrobatics, though the sheer physics of it are still quite baffling to me,” Alex strode away from the magazine rack and headed toward the bar. It had been a little while since his first trip to this rest stop, and much had changed in the intervening time. He had gone from an idle curiosity in the goings-on of an old hangout to being an active participant - even a leader in some small capacity. But some things, no matter what, remained the same. And that, at the least, was of some small comfort.
“A good abrax, straight if you would,” he smiled and waved to Ira as he took up a seat at the bar.
“You know, we have people for that. Like, we can call them, and they’ll bring our ships to us.” Compared to the Mandalorian, Erinyes wasn’t… well, she wasn’t not hung over, but she was handling better than he was. Experience and a second liver, mainly the second liver, counted for a lot in situations like this. “Normally they just fly you home, though. At least, that’s what they’re supposed to do, so uh… do you live here?”
A familiar figure on a screen caught the Emissary’s eye as she and the Voice wobbled into the breakfast line. “Hey, it’s you!” Erinyes pointed at the holodisplay while she jabbed Idris with her other elbow.
“God I look so good at that angle,” Idris nodded looking at the screen.
“Live here? Erin I don’t know where here even is,” the Mandalorian pointed at the floor. “This isn’t even marble. Please don’t insult me like that.”
“Alright, lightweights, eugh,” came a voice from beside them, suddenly joining the pair and slinging an arm around either’s shoulder. It required a little dragging in the downwards direction, and nearly slopped grease onto both helmet on Idris’ side and hair on Erinyes’. In the person’s hands were two loaded trays of glorious glorious food, meats and potatoes and eggs and gravy and cinnamon buns and pastries unidentifiable at this point. “I return with spoils. Let’s find a table before Mando-Pop Idol here keels over again.”
At a glance, the figure seemed to be a female(?), wearing a colorful collection of clothes…or rags…some kind of hip young thing maybe. They had pink skin the exact shade as the Zeltron’s, with rich dark hair as fabulous as Idris’.
<@645466919415054357> <@360143250457100288>
Fortunately, Erinyes wasn’t so hung over as to think diner grease was good hair tonic, and was in the process of sliding aside when her new friend rescued the plate. “Lightweight? Pft. I was drinking to a handicap, I’ll have you know.” She considered telekinetically snagging one of the CIMINIM- er, cinnamon rolls, but thought better of it when she realised how precariously the food was balanced.
“I never keel over. I fall with graceful purpose.” Idris said. His eyes hadn’t left the piles of food on the trays.
Miho continued to wander the store, a look of concentration on her young features. Everything was so…shiny. the battle between curiosity and hunger ended when her stomach gave a growl that patrons around her could hear. Flushing a dusky red, she leaned her head forward and hid behind a curtain of raven-colored hair and didn’t quite hurry towards the dining area where the delicious smells were emitting from.
Reaching the line, she stood with eager anticipation. Her hunger had only grown as the aroma got stronger on her approach. She studied the different items on the menu, unsure of what she would get.
“Graceful as heck all last night, then,” laughed the mystery friend, winking at Erinyes’ handicap comment. They or she themselves, despite their speech and apparent ability to be up and about getting food first, didn’t look amazing. Dark bags under their bloodshot eyes, one Erinyes’ blue, one Idris’ brown, indicated some roughness yet. She tipped off their shoulders and nodded to the tables nearby. “C'mon, c'mon. I got food so one of you can get caf and the other can get more DRINKS when we’re done. There’s bar here we should meet? Revisit?”
“Look its not my fault I only have one liver. It was a stacked against me anyway. ‘Shot when a combatant quip about the arena. Shot when Kamjin trips and falls. Shot when Marick stares off into the distance brooding. Etcetera. Etcetera’,” Idris replied spinning very slowly on the spot looking for some caf. He let out a pleased sigh as he saw the station and purposely, but slowly, made his way towards it.
“Still don’t know who any of those people are, but karkin’ love ‘em,” the Zelt-Huamn? crowed.
With every step, Katrila’s boots tapped softly against the sticky metal floor. She walked quickly with purpose, albeit to nowhere in particular. The lay of the land was becoming familiar, if not desirable.
Many different reasons colluded to ensure she had never set foot in the Shame Corner, not the least of which was its name or the general atmosphere of rest stops. She had spent a lot of time and many credits to make her Katnip freighter comfortable, luxurious, and stocked enough not to need these little detours too frequently, but Jax never tired of reminding her you have to refuel and do maintenance…ship…things. (That was his department and, to be honest, she frequently tuned him out when he got on a mechanical soapbox.) Anyway, she was here now; might as well make the best of it. Get some steps in. People watch. Take a drink, if anything could compare to her onboard bar.
A whole bunch of people who fancied themselves restaurateurs hawked their greasy fried wares or mass-produced confections. Too bad Jax is busy. He’d absolutely love the selection, she thought. She passed some sit-down locations after the quick-service stalls, then the refreshers and general store. It might not be a bad idea to stock up on over-the-counter pain relievers since those were pretty much the same everywhere.
The sight of a visibly uncomfortable man garbed in yellow stopped her in her tracks. Not only was he wearing a tuxedo in a place like this—the neurotic Togorian felt underdressed in a white tank top and dark leggings, but that ensemble would be arguably worse—but he looked familiar. Alex! From the dinner party.
The Sith hadn’t anticipated running into anyone she knew, although she had heard rumors some Envoys haunted the place before or after missions. And, if she knew the Envoys, there would be more where one was. So, with a sigh, she straightened her posture and prepared to enter real-people-mode.
“They are very… consistently behaved.” Erinyes produced a flask of tsiraki out of nowhere and took a sip—had she actually stopped drinking since the impromptu media appearance?—then turned her attention to the glorious array of food. Grease and salt were the perfect hangover-conquering combo.
Meat. Potatoes. EGGIES. And cheese. Mmm.
“So, tell me ‘bout yourself, friend,” she said between bites. “If you gave me your name earlier, I must’ve forgotten it along with… part of last night.”
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Said friend made a grabby-hand for the flask, accompanied by batting eyelashes. And more importantly: FOOD.
“Trade you,” they said while sliding over moar brisket. “Call me Aralia. Erin, was it not?”
Erinyes deftly slid aside her rangy friend’s attempted grab. “Ah-ah. Finish your food first, or I’m gonna be calling you the lightweight. And yes, it’s Erin. Nice to re-meet you, Aralia.” She tapped the flask with a nail before stowing it away again. “They sell this at the bar. You can have all you want there.”
Aralia dramatically pancaked onto the tabletop, though she didn’t actually faceplant into any of their food. “Moving…too…far. Spent all my energy…getting…food,” she gasped out, releasing a death rattle. This was followed by what could’ve been a deep- fried cookie. “Mmmhmphf. Almost as good as a friend of mine’s. Nice re-meeting you too.” Mismatched eyes blinked back at her. “So you like, famous?”
“Oh, Idris is the famous one. Bona fide hero of… something I can’t quite remember.” She scarfed down half a breakfast sandwich, pausing to wipe the grease off her chin. “I’m just Arx’s most moderately-known hobnobber and elbow-bumper. You know, the pretty face that distracts people while the real work gets done.”
“Thank you for recognizing my reputation Erin. You are famous too, in uh… certain circles,” Idris very slowly placed several full cups of caf down on the table.
“Yes I am the greatest hungover man alive,” he said using some hand towels to wipe off his armor from the previous two attempts to bring the drinks over.
Aralia helpfully threw more napkins at him and then slid over a tray loaded with 90% breakfast meat and 10% cheese. She took one cup of caf, then took out a flask of her own and poured some into it before sipping. “Oh, yes, okay, you can have greatest alive title for a minute.” She winked at Erin over the rim. “But which of you is prettier?”
“Hmm… I guess that depends on your tastes, doesn’t it?” She leaned sideways on one elbow and looked at Idris as she reached for a cup of coffee. “I would say me, obviously—but I don’t think you really go in for being ‘pretty’, do you? Most men I’ve met would rather be ruggedly handsome, or whatever the preferred masculine look is nowadays.”
<@360143250457100288>
“Sometimes I like to feel pretty,” Idris replied. He lifted his helmet enough to start shoveling in some food. “But I am ruggedly handsome all the time,” he said between mouthfuls.
“He says with a metaphorical bag over his head,” commented Aralia, munching away. “Not that you didn’t look fine with it off too last night. You were right, it did make a really convenient puke bucket for ya.”
“That is the number one reason Mandalorians wear them to be honest.”
Erinyes turned back to Aralia. “The question is, which of us do you think is prettier?”
Miho stepped up to the counter, her mouth almost watering as she ordered her food. Ordered? When had been the last time she ordered something? A small stub printed out and the young woman eyed it as she took the ticket. The small jar read “Tips” in a very slashingly feminine hand. With a grin, she dropped several creds into it and stepped away feeling surprisingly proud of herself. She had done a good thing to help those presumably less fortunate and managed to navigate her way through ordering food.
She stood off to the side as directed and waited patiently for the clerk to summon her to retrieve her meal. Taking this time, she looked around again and surveyed the patrons, eyes curious as she scanned the premises.
So many different types of beings here. I wonder what their stories are.
“Well, he did bring me caf…you wouldn’t bump a gal a taste.” She faux-pouted. “I’m inclined to favor the the guy currently crotch-bopping a mic stand on holovision.”
A point of greasy fingers indicated the view screens still showing coverage.
Leena leaned back in her booth, sipping a cup of caf as she watched the files compile on her datapad, lines of code streaming into the memory banks of Steven, Alex’s droid. A watchful eye checked for faults, making sure no alarms for corruption set off. The transfer would probably be best in person, but the decompile and install of the new custom software would leave the droid vulnerable for a while. She debated options. The remote pad would be able to keep track, and Alex could have the droid stay on his ship. Or she could just sit here, annoying the servers with requests for more caf and holding back their ability to turn the table over for a few hours.
She tilted her head, one of her violet lekku sliding back over her shoulder. Hekate set their cup down, blinking their optical sensors at her. “Are you okay?” Their voice fragmented into three voices as it had done in years. Leena shifted sideways in her seat, making sure that her legs were pulled up beneath her, making sure that no part of her body made contact with him. She didn’t really want to figure out what manner of idiosyncrasies the KX would pick up if she faltered. Cracking her neck and eyes darting back to the datapad, she shrugged.
“Caf’s not kicked in yet, is all.” She pulled a remote spike, tapping a button on the side, making sure that it was synced properly, then handed it to Hekate. “Mind doing the honors?”
Hekate tilted their head, the hood of their robe shifting to let some of the chrome bounce overhead lights her direction. Taking the spike, Hekate moved from her side of the booth and slid in next to the KX Droid. “Steven….” Hekate started. “Such a weird name for a droid.” Their optical sensors lights tilted in an approximation of an expression. “Anyway, Leena needs me to spike you so that she can finish the work, if that’s okay.” They waited a moment for an affirmative from the KX droid before finding the port and sliding the device in and giving it a twist to seat it properly.
The reaction was about as Leena expected, the droid barely noticing at first, but the processes slowing down, as the code transfer started taking up more and more of the internal processing power. “You’re probably going to want to go to your ship, Steven.” Leena smiled, then looked back down on her screen to make sure that the packets were moving at a good speed. “Everything looks good. And I think I’m going to go try some of this ‘fudge’ I keep hearing about.” She had sat for too long already, the nerves in her legs and feet acting like they hadn’t been used in months in some sort of protest as she slammed the remainder of her mug and placed a handful of credits down on the table as a tip. She stood for a moment, watching Hekate and the droid stand up, Hekate helping the lumbering KX around the table.
“All right, big guy, let’s go get you plugged in. Maybe if your boss has an oil dunk on his ship, we’ll even get you in one of those. Bet that would…” Hekate labored for a moment under the concept before continuing. “…feel great.”
Leena watched them maneuver toward the exit and sighed. There were some moments when she questioned the things she did, whether that work and the unintended consequences therein were right or good, or if she was just increasing the amount of misery in the galaxy. And then there were moments like this. Letting thesmile reach her eyes, she took a look around the place. Some familiar faces, some that were not, as usual. Wondering if the Chiss would be here or not, she followed the path past the diner bar toward the exit.
Something itched at her mind, like an echo of a song that got stuck in her head that she could not name. Beneath the barriers she constructed, the masks that kept her from becoming a pawn to some political machination or another, she could still feel it. She desperately wanted to drop the facade, to seek out its source, to scratch the itch, repercussions be damned. She paused, letting out a deep breath and holding it before taking another breath in.
And made it worse.
Beneath the caf, beneath the fry-grease and roasting nuts, the searing meat and sweet dough of pan-flaps, she smelled it. A slightly spiced floral scent, subtle and unique. She had smelled it before, but where? She held the breath in and realized she had frozen mid-step. Taking a quick double step, she moved forward, out of the diner, then turned to look back in the direction she had came, eyes trying to sort out a mystery that eyes did not yet perceive.
The trip to Corellia was one filled with pleasant times. Sebastian finally got to introduce Lektra to his mother and sister, and both seemed thrilled that their son and older brother had finally found someone to be with.
After a long journey, the public transport shuttle was due for a stop at the Shame Corner. Once, the place reminded him of his dreadful embarrassment, but now, he saw it as the birthplace of something comforting. Lektra’s seemingly cold and distant stare had transformed into one of warmth and, dare even say, love. She reminded him that not everything was out to get him. Since meeting her, his pay had doubled, and he was starting to think about a future beyond his mother and sister. He helped set his mother on a fast track to getting her debts paid off faster, and his sister’s college fund was also growing exponentially.
Even this trip was funded by his new and old job. The cost he had to pay was time with the woman he adored, and sometimes, work was busy enough to distract him from that fact, but other days, it wasn’t easy to get out of bed. He knew it wouldn’t be like this forever, so he took advantage of his young age and ability to thrive on a few hours of sleep.
After the pair exited the shuttle, Seb extended his hand to Lektra, asking a simple question: “You hungry?”
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Miho continued to wait for a few more moments until her number was called in fairly short order and the small woman picked up the container and cup at the counter before turning and looking for a seat. She marveled slightly at the speed everything seemed to have been prepared with a delighted smile on her face.
In one corner, a secluded booth seemed to call her by name. Miho headed in that direction, passing by the walkway to the rest of the location, behind the purple-skinned Twi'lek. She mused idly about how often she had seen a lavender tone one on of them as she almost beboped to her table.
Setting the container down, Miho followed suit by scooting herself into the booth with a happy smile. Opening it up, the spicy smell of a well-seared beast of some kind wafted around her, coupled with the fresh green of something leafy, the bright red of a spicy sauce filled with chunks of other vegetables and cheese.
The young woman picked up one of the pieces of Flatbread stuffed almost to bursting with goodies and smiled at it before biting onto it with a barely muffled sound of utter happiness. The food she was used to was things she had hunted down and cooked over a fire with no seasoning or ration packs. The idea that food could actually have a different taste was new and unfamiliar to her.
The cup of something dark and sweet smelling also captivated her momentarily before she returned to her main treat. Something about the woman she passed Seemed to tingle along her skin, something forgotten, something lost. Shrugging, Miho chomped another bite from her folded flatbread.
“That is completely fair reasoning.” Potatoes. Eggies. Cheese. “We’ll see how that changes once we get more booze back in you.”
<@360143250457100288>
The woman laughed, more a cackle than anything else, one that promised chaos. “Sounds perfect, Erin, dear. Ask me again in two drinks.”
Surveying out over the rest of the area as he sat at the bar, Alex kept a keen eye out for anything of interest - as usual, he had no idea what he was looking for, but he’d know it when he saw it. Off to one end of the station, he saw Steven being helped back toward the docking bays by the “Krath” Hekate - an odd one, but he had certainly met odder in his time. Best to stay out-and-about for now, Alex surmised, and give Steven some time to process and recover from the changes that had been implemented in his coding. If Alex went back now, he was sure the security-turned-valet droid would feel compelled to offer his services and what was needed for him now was rest more than anything.
Continuing his sweeping view, he stopped briefly to contemplate the drunk-but-recovering trio that currently appeared to be awash in caf, baked goods, and greasy breakfast plates. Two of them he was pretty sure he recognized - even if one was in full armor - from the Council dossiers he had been provided when given command of the Voidbreaker II. It was always important to know whose toes not to tread on too heavily when push came to shove. He would refrain from intruding on them for now, and let them at least get some calories and carbs in their bellies before he’d make the passingly polite overtures necessary in a leadership hierarchy.
Finally, he spotted a familiar face. Raising the glass of aquamarine liquor with a swirl, he gestured toward Katrila in acknowledgement. While they didn’t exactly know each other well enough to call “friend” yet, he thought, there had at least been a pleasant enough dinner engagement in an overly gaudy environment - one the outfit he was flaunting now would have likely been more appropriate for, but what can you do? Taking a swig of the sweet, slightly spicy liquid he settled a bit more on his bar stool, continuing to watch the events of the day unfold.
As she stepped forward to approach Alex, a small woman with striking violet eyes in a corner booth caught her attention. Something about her concentration was endearing, curious, so she decided to approach.
She stepped up to the booth, emerald eyes glinting with interest. “Mind if I join you?” she asked with a warm voice. “…It’s not often you see someone enjoying their meal so much in a place like this.” <@227653769842655233>
Miho looked up at the new woman and smiled, her eyes wide as she took in the feline appearance. She ran through her knowledge of the different species and came up absolutely empty as she gestured to the booth around her.
“Feew fwee!” she said, her mouth still full of food. Swallowing quickly, she blushed slightly. When she spoke again, her voice was lyrical and oddly accented to anyone listening. “Sorry. Please, sit with me.” The woman turned the container towards Katrila, her open face happy to have met someone she didn’t have any intention of butchering in a dark alley somewhere. “Would you like one? They’re REALLY tasty! What are you? Do you come here often then? What sort of things do you get around here?”
The young woman, full of questions, also seemed to not need to breathe with all the words flying from her mouth.
Katrila chuckled, a little surprised and overwhelmed at the stranger’s enthusiasm. From anyone else it might have rubbed her the wrong way, but something about the diminutive woman kept her interest. It could have been the cascade of blue-black hair, her strangely youthful appearance, or the shining light of the Force that reminded her of the one other Jedi she had met. So she slid into booth across from Miho.
The aroma wafting from the open container assaulted her nostrils, prompting a flehmen response. She leaned back slightly, taking in the woman’s curiosity and rapid-fire questions. It was a lot, but a refreshing change of pace from the guarded negotiations she usually found herself in.
“Thank you, but I’m fine for now,” she said with a wave of her paw. “And I’ve actually never been here before. My pilot rather insisted we stop. It’s all…a lot.”
Miho nodded and turned the container back to face her with an excited, child-like grin. “I was wondering if maybe you knew more about this place than I did, but that’s okay! Finding out with new friends is even more fun, I think.”
Happy as a pig in mud, Miho went back to happily munching on her food. The flavors were interesting and seasoned food was definitely something new to the young woman. “I’ve been…away for a bit so I’m still getting my bearings.”
Lektra had done a good job of hiding it, but after she had left Corellia with her boyfriend in tow, she couldn’t help but begin to feel down. Sebastian’s family was amazing; his mother was kind, and his sister was fun. She had quickly grown to adore both of them. But it made her realize that she didn’t have a family of her own to introduce her lover to. She couldn’t share the same joy that he had given her with the most important person in her life.
But she couldn’t let it get her too far down, at least not until their trip was over. Sebastian had been working more than usual recently and it had cut their time together down significantly. The Firrerreo refused to spoil what little time she got to have with him.
All those thoughts, all those feelings, they were for another time. For now, Lektra simply reached out to take Sebastian’s hand, the cuff of the sweater she stole from him bunched up just before her thumb. “Kinda,” she said, her voice small and quiet. She hadn’t eaten much before or after Corellia, finding it hard to keep an appetite while stuck on a ship in a space she wasn’t familiar with. The young woman walked forward to the entrance of the shame corner, not wanting to block the door and be in the way.
“Just kinda?”
Worry etched into the young man’s features as he held the Firrerreo’s hand. He paid attention sometimes. As far as he had seen, she wasn’t eating nearly as much as she normally did. He learned her species usually had a big appetite, so this was unusual.
“You good?” His fingers wove between hers as he offered a gentle smile. He didn’t much care if he blocked the entrance, but he did perpetually avoid eye-contact with strangers, head low as he waded them through the mass of people.
“We could eat at the griddle.”
Lektra shrugged off Sebastian’s worried questions, not wanting to stress him out over what she considered small things. It was just her appetite, something she was used to controlling.
Like the human she held hands with, Lektra purposefully avoided eye contact with everyone around her, forcing herself to focus on simply getting through the crowd and to the Shame Corner. “As long as you promise not to ruin this shirt too. It’s my favorite of yours,” the small woman said, trying to joke and lift both of their spirits. As active as they both were, they were homebodies at heart and being away from comfort for almost a week was torture.
Seb let out a chuff, shaking his head at the mention, the memory of him spilling his caf onto her pristine white shirt entering his mind. “Not gettin’ a caf anyway. But if I end up spillin’ somethin’ this time, just maybe chill on the death stare. You didn’t even smile.”
The Firrerreo tilted her head before looking up at her companion, her eyes searching his for even a sliver of humor. He had to be joking. “How would you react if someone you barely knew spilled all over your favorite shirt?” She asked, genuinely wondering where he could possibly be coming from. “The first time you gave me a reason to smile was when you sat down with me during that storm.”
There would be a bit of humor in the Human’s eyes as she searched them. His features shifted to something more apologetic. “Just kiddin’, Lex,” he said in order to clear the air a bit. “I still am really sorry about that. I’d hope gettin’ you another shirt woulda fixed it.”
The memory of them sitting out the terrible storm still felt fresh in his mind. She had been kind enough to let him sit with her. He was barely brave enough to take the leap of faith but he was glad he did.
“I still feel like you saved my life. That lightnin’ bolt scared me outta my boots.”
“You don’t need to be sorry about it anymore, Sebby. I forgave you a long time ago. One shirt is an easy price to pay for all we’ve done together.” The shorter individual gave his hand a squeeze, a small smile finding itself upon her full lips. She tugged him further towards the entrance, finishing their conversation just before they slipped through the doors.
“I think we saved each other’s lives that day, and I’m grateful.”
Sebastian didn’t utter another word as he weighed her words. He was far from the saving type but he was glad his presence was enough for her. He smiled again, lightly swinging their hands until they hit a stranger. The Human offered an apology, head ducked slightly before he hurried them to the Griddle.
Hands still glued together, they made their way to an empty booth, both taking a seat whilst waiting to be served.
As she usually was, Lektra was comfortable with the silence she shared with Sebastian after her rather heavy words. It wasn’t uncommon for one or both of them to stop and consider what to say next or simply take a break from talking altogether and instead enjoy the moment formed by whatever wonderful words had been uttered. This situation was one of those times
When the pair ran into a stranger, Lektra’s cheeks immediately began to shine silver as she clung onto her lover. She kept their hands intertwined, simply putting her shoulder against his bicep and crossing her opposite arm over her chest so she could hold onto his arm. The Firrerreo made herself as small as possible as she let the embarrassment run its course.
Sebastian was the first to slide into the booth with Lektra following, keeping their hands together even after they sat. The younger of the two leaned her head into her companion.
The Human welcomed the quiet and the closeness of his lover, a permanent slight smile on his lips. Whatever good deed he did in a past life certainly was paying off now.
Though he wasn’t one to push too hard for anything, it did bother him that her eating habits seem to change so rapidly. It made him anxious. Had he done or said something wrong?
“You sure you’re not that hungry? You feelin’ okay? Usually it’s, like, you could eat a whole bantha.”
The young Firrerreo simply shrugged, bringing a leg up onto the seat so she could hug her knee to her chest with her free hand. “I’m just not that hungry I guess…” Lektra tried to pinpoint what exactly had her so appetite-less, but nothing was coming to mind. There were so many different reasons that could be contributing to her loss in hunger. “I hope I’m not sick. I don’t want to get you sick. Or miss any more work than I already have.”
Drakai stepped off the ramp of his ship, stretching his limbs and working out a crick in his neck. Yellow eyes surveyed the fueling station. The moniker of Shame Corner was certainly an interesting choice, and likely drew curious patrons for that reason alone. Its reviews had been glowing and many travelers swore by it. It had been a curiosity since he had heard of it and, as luck would have it, his business, as it were, had taken him to Ryloth. While not necessarily close to the station, it wasn’t the opposite end of the Galaxy. And after such a distance traveled to get there from his usual area of the galaxy, his ship was in desperate need of more fuel, so he seized the opportunity to stop in for a visit.
“Venat,” he called, his head turned slightly toward the ship. He switched to his native language and told his faithful droid to remain there unless he called for it.
He set off into the station. He was immediately confronted with competing smells of sweet confections and savory foods. Merchandise - branded, of course - was everywhere. His eyes picked up a sign advertising the best caf around. At that moment, a fresh, hot mug seemed like just the thing he needed. His trip had been long, and the journey home would be longer still.
“Okay.” Sebastian shrugged, not wanting to press the issue further. If it was important she was sure to let him know. And if he was sick, he would find out soon. Otherwise there wasn’t much else could do about it. His light eyes looked around the diner for the next available waiter as he idly stuck the thumbnail of his free hand between his teeth.
For the most part, Lektra was glad Sebastian dropped the subject so easily. She didn’t want him to feel bad about them going to see his mom and sister together. She knew he’d over react and think that it was somehow his fault she wasn’t eating because of it.
Even still, all that mattered to the young Firrerreo was that she got to spend time with him. So, she got nice and cozy nuzzled up into his arm and closed her eyes, patiently awaiting someone to come get her man some food.
With the couple settled in the booth, it wasn’t long at all before a Golden Griddle server came up in their classic yellow aprons, his own hair a few shades golder and in a tousled style slicked upwards in the front. A golden lighting bolt earring dangled down among a few other studs as he titled his head in greeting, electric blue eyes seeming to glow in his face. He took up a notepad, flimsi and pen old-fashioned, ready to scribe.
“Hey, welcome in. My name’s Ray. What can I get you started with?”
<@315438760428961793> <@301514304845381632>
“Hey,” Seb said to Ray with a small smile and wave. “I’m gonna do the nerf nuggets ‘n fries, a caf to drink, ‘n whatever she’s havin’.”
His light eyes shifted to the Firrerreo, his arm nudging her playfully, hoping that she’d order something.
<@301514304845381632>
Ray scribbled away then looked to the woman, arching brows. “And you, ma'am?”
Lektra’s eyes opened rather lazily. Physically she wasn’t tired, thankfully able to sleep during their time away thanks to Sebastian’s presence. But socially she felt she hadn’t truly had the opportunity to recharge, something that was quickly becoming a detriment.
“I’d like a caf, please. Maybe a pot we could share?” She looked up to Sebastian for confirmation that he’d want to share. <@315438760428961793>
“That’s good,” he said with a nod of approval. Lowering his head and voice, he asked her, “You sure you don’t want anythin’ to eat?”
Katrila couldn’t help but grin at Miho’s simultaneous eating and talking, even as she spoke a little cryptically. The Sith hoped to one day live with such gusto.
“We’re both navigating uncharted territory, then. There’s a certain thrill in discovering the unknown,” she said, pausing to glance at the sticky floor around them, “ even if it isn’t always your cup of tea.”
Her gaze returned to her interlocutor. “So, tell me where you’ve been. And what’s brought you back.”
Miho’s face fell a bit, a hint of sadness(?) filling the luminous lavender gaze. “I’ve been…working. I don’t know too much about it, they kept me ‘on ice’ for a lot of it. I remember a planet with cultists from before, but that’s about it.”
As though a switch clicked inside her, the sadness was erased and the smile returned. “I spent a lot of time training.” The small woman grinned as she took another bite of food, chewed and swallowed. “It was a lot of fun and I got to meet all sorts of people as I traveled through the universe.”
She tilted her head to the side slightly, seemingly a little confused. “I suppose joining the Acolytes of Urr is what brought me back. There’s no chance of finding my…family. It’s been almost ten years. I doubt they would even remember me.”
With a shrug, Miho seemed to act like nothing was different between one moment and the next, happily munching on her food. “What about you? Do you have a name or do I just call you kitty?”
<@629429326290485286>
Lektra shrugged off Sebastian’s question, simply mumbling an incomprehensible protest. “No I’m okay,” she said a bit louder.
Sebastian, once more, gave up on any attempt to get her to eat. “That should be it,” he said to Ray with a nod and tight-lipped smile.
<@244244163002892288>
A practiced Seeker, Katrila not only noticed Miho’s shift in demeanor, but felt the pain and sadness. It thumped like a bat, trapped in a box, flapping its wings in search of freedom. The Togorian’s own smile faded, without losing its warmth, to an expression of empathetic acknowledgment. ‘On ice,’ cults..this person had lead an eventful life. The pain of losing one’s family especially resonated with her, an exile.
“Miho, is it? To emerge from such challenges with your spirit intact…it’s quite remarkable.” She paused, looking her in the eye. “Perhaps, in time, you’ll find a different sort of family in the connections you make traveling through our galaxy.”
Katrila’s expression shifted again, this time playful. “…Even among the Jedi. If anyone could bring out some personality in them, it’d be you.”
The small woman grinned slightly and shrugged. “Maybe! They’ve all got plenty of personality. They’re just…” her face scrunched up as she thought of the right word. “Stuffy.”
She raised a hand and tapped her chin with a finger. “I wonder if they are stil lalive though. It would be fun to see them again maybe.” Miho winked at Katrila with a look of sheer mischievousness. “I bet they’d be surprised to find me if they were.”
She picked up the last piece of folded bread stuffed with goodies. “Maybe one day we can find each other again. Like the old stories of families reunited after decades! What do you think, Miss Kitty? Do you think that actually happen? I think it would be good. Meeting up after so long and being able to share all the fun stories and the scary times.”
Drakai wove his way through the patrons of the station until he finally found a place to get some caf. His gaze took in his surroundings as he waited in line, making note of where the different stands where located and what they offered. It never hurt to look around, and paying attention to things was always important, even when not on the job.
He had learned through contacts that the station had connections to the Envoys, but he saw no sign of it. Although he felt sure that was almost certainly done by design. Lucky for him, he had contacts within the Brotherhood’s system and had even done business with their Shroud Syndicate. That was what had led him to the station in the first place - searching for more work. There was supposed to be a board of job postings, and given the backing of the Envoys, it was sure to be a relatively safe space for him to stop at. Not that he was incapable of looking after himself, but not needing to look over your own shoulder was a nice feeling every now and then.
The Kyuzo ordered his drink and paid, leaving a tip in the jar before moving aside for the next patrons in line. Looking to his left, he spotted a row of boards. Could that be where the postings were? He pulled down his filter mask and took a sip of the caf as he made his way over.
When Drakai looked over the board, he saw many posters and fliers. Some were obviously bounties. Others were more eclectic, including months’ old band posters partially ripped and buried under newer postings: ads for services, hand written notes for looking for services, used ship sales and buying offers, a notice of warranty collections, club memberships, coupon booklets, and so on. Several had a small logo in the corner that were all the same.
Looking between the two and obviously not missing the awkwardness or prodding but also not about to comment on it when it wasn’t his business and it didn’t seem like this was some bad thing, Ray just nodded with a little pencil tipped salute. “You got it, nuggets, fries, and some caf to share. That’ll all be right up for you. Holler if you need anything else in the meantime.”
With that he headed off to the kitchen.
“Life has a way of bringing people back together when they least expect it,” Katrila responded pensively. The tip of her tail, beside her in the booth, flicked lazily as she spoke. “And you do seem to be full of surprises.
"But, excuse me, I forget myself. Katrila.” She extended a furry hand across the table. “Let’s save ‘Miss Kitty’ for special occasions, shall we?”
Miho grinned and accepted the proffered hand with a vigorous shake. “Good to meet you, Katrila!”
She closed the container and finished the drink and set both empties aside before she put her elbow on the table and rest her chin on her hands. “So tell me about you, Katrila. What sort of things do you do?”
The look of interest on the small woman’s face was genuine and lacked any kind of subtlety. “You said your pilot made you stop here? Must have been busy and needed a break!”
It so happened that even massive amounts of breakfast food and assorted pastries could be demolished in decent time by three hungover – or still drinking – people, especially when one was a Zeltron and one might? have been half Zeltron? She looked like the pair’s lovechild anyway, so like a Zeltron and a half (was that speciest? Maybe). Once the trays and plates were empty of potatoes, eggies, meats, and ciminnms, Aralia loosed a small belch and sipped from her flask again, fiddling with it under the table.
“Allllrighty then. Bar? Bar?” She pointed at both Idris and Erinyes respectively, voice prompting but bright, like the question wasn’t actually a question, the conclusion foregone.
<@360143250457100288> <@645466919415054357>
The magical combination of breakfast foods and pastries had done wonders to soothe the tempest that had been pounding Idris’ brain and eyes out of their skull holsters. With a deft hand, he stacked up the trays and turned this way and that way looking for the nearest return receptacle.
“Bar,” He said as he finally spotted one.
Standing of course was its own battle, his armor clanking against the cheap metallic-adjacent material the seats were made out of. With a few quick strides he successfully returned the trays. Content at completing the minimum social expectance he quickly patted himself down, before pulling out a safely stored credit chit.
“Bar!” he said with more enthusiasm, watching the “corporate” chit’s pristine smooth surface reflect the harsh lighting from the ceiling.
The now-empty highball glass was set down on the bartop, its contents having been savored with each sip. His acquaintance, Katrila, seemed to have found an interesting conversation to be part of and he had not really seen anything else of interest in the bar, so perhaps it was time to depart. He left a handful of credits on the bar, enough for the cost of the drink and a sizable tip, and waved his farewell to the bartender as he headed back out into the shelves and merchandise.
The vibrant yellow tuxedo again drew glances and double-takes as he strode through shelves of knick-knacks and salty snacks, both for its striking color and also its complete idiosyncrasy with the environs. His path was headed for the docks, fully intent on departing the station shortly, when a slight but audible rumble from his guts sounded. Brow furrowed in consideration, he realized he had not yet actually eaten anything today and - combined with having just partaken of a fair bit of alcohol - he should probably get something solid in his stomach. A pivot on his heel and he soon found himself crossing the threshold into the seating area of the Golden Griddle Diner.
To his surprise, in the brief time since he had been at the bar, the place had gone from virtually empty to nearly full. Even if he just wanted to take a seat at the counter, he found he would have to squeeze between two other people already deeply digging into their plates. With a sense of distaste at the thought, he quickly swept his gaze over the area seeing if there was any other alternative. While there was no completely empty seating, he did notice a young couple nestled together on one side of a booth and decided the worst that could happen is they told him ‘no.’
“I beg your forgiveness for my great forwardness, and normally I would never ask, but it seems like seating is a rare commodity to come by here in the moment,” he gestured back over his shoulder toward the crowded diner, “so would you two mind terribly if a quiet old man were to join you to rest my weary bones while partaking of a modest breakfast?” He tugged slightly at his bronze bowtie as he spoke, subconsciously knowing it had slid out of place and habitually moving it back to its proper position. “I daresay I will be brief and not interrupt you. And I promise I am entirely harmless,” a sparkling smile split his face at the last, “when I have to be.” <@315438760428961793> <@301514304845381632>
The sparkle of the card seemed to draw Aralia’s eye like a magpie mynock creature of space that hoarded shiny things. That sparkle reflected in the dark eye that matched Idris’ as she bounced up to her feet with the man, offering Erinyes a hand with a faux-curtsey.
“Oooo, does that look promising, Iddy! Some benefits to all those predictable sickos you have to dance for, aren’t there?”
“Have to dance for? The dance is in my soul. That said they are all in fact,” Idris said pausing for dramatic effect, “sickos.”
“Does that make you king of the sickos?” She winked, and smacked his back close to his backside but far enough around the armored thigh to stay decent. “How much trauma can fit in this baby to produce M-Pop from the soul?”
“Never ever underestimate how much trauma can be stuffed into armor,” Idris said. for a moment his eyes seemed to unfocus as if he was staring deeply into the middle distance.
“It’s why we must always choose to live every moment we get!,” He said, eyes focusing back on Aralia before winking.
The young lady laughed in the desperate and hilarious way that only someone who vibed that too hard could. “Exactly, friend!” She offered him the flask she’d been sipping on this whole time, as if a toast.
Idris took the flash, mirrored the toasting action and took a drink. His senses were immediately assaulted by seal team six the Bad Batch, carving out his sense of taste and smell, immediately followed by the intense burn of what he only assumed was liquified stars pouring down his throat.
Aralia seemed unaffected as she took the flask back – almost snatching it – and drank herself. Deeply. For a solid twenty seconds as her throat worked and she held up a finger as if to ask for a pause.
When she was done she gasped as if just having had refreshing water, smacking her lips.
“Okay, yes. Bar! We need more drinks!” She looked expectantly to Erinyes, waiting for the Zeltron before the trio left.
“Oh, I dabble in many things,” Katrila said, leaning back as she considered her words carefully. Miho was charming, but how much to reveal of her business and her pleasure always proved a riddle. Even to be completely forthcoming would require precision of language in a public location like this, liminal space though it seemed. “Some call me a facilitator, others a smuggler or mercenary. But I’ve never liked those labels for my particular set of skills.” She paused. “I like to think of myself as a concierge to the galaxy’s most interesting and influential people. Someone who deals in information, connections, and opportunities, for our mutual friends and beyond.”
Her eyes wandered upwards. Did she answer all the questions? Oh, yeah, Jax. “As for my pilot, well…he takes it upon himself to make sure I don’t push myself too hard. Or my ship. I suppose it actually does need fuel and maintenance from time to time.” She chuckled.
Mihoshi smiled at Katrila and looked around the eating area, her eyes scanning the denizens once again. “I can respect that. Someone who simply exists and does what is necessary.”
She nodded casually and turned her attention back to the Togorian. “It’s never a bad things to not limit yourself to any one thing. I spent a lot of time being trained for only one task at a time so my other skills are a little lacking at the moment.” Her face brightened a bit as she grinned. “But, I’ll get that sorted back out in no time at all. There’s a reason my brother didn’t leave me behind when a fight was brewing. Even if I was probably a little too young at the time.”
She placed her hands on the table in front of her, her eyes serious and intent on her companion. “Perhaps I could hire your fine skills to locate a few things in the future?”
Erinyes belatedly finished off the last of her CIMMINIM roll, and raised an eyebrow at both Idris and Aralia as she slid out of the booth. “What do you keep in there, engine degreaser?”
Nevertheless, she took Aralia’s hand as she stood, and the merry trio made their way towards the one bar in the galaxy that might be truly prepared for their antics. As they entered the Seven Sins, she gave Acedia, Claire, Paige, and whoever else was out front a cheerful wave.
<@360143250457100288>
Sebastian was idly watching the people of the diner when the stranger approached. He tried not to stare too long but his mentor had taught him to vigilant in even the most dull environments.
The Human stiffened slightly, gripping Lektra’s hand firmly. The man used a lot of words just to ask to sit, but he seemed friendly enough. “Uh, yeah, sure?” He shifted his amber eyes to Lektra to confirm the stranger’s presence at their table.
<@301514304845381632>
“I probably could, ‘cause our mechanic is a pushover, but I don’t think even my liver would recover from that,” drawled Aralia, hand in hand. When Erinyes waved to the bar, where Acedia indeed was working instead of Ira, she got a bubbly yet lazy wave back.
“Heeeey, welcome and stuff,” the blue-haired woman said with a yawn. There were no open seats at the bar, but an available booth or two welcomed. “What’ll it be?”
“Anything strong,” Aralia called back, thinking of Idris’ corporate card. “Bottles of it, good stuff. You two?”
<@360143250457100288>
“Mandalorian Ale please and thank you,” Idris said, waving the card in his hand as he spoke, helmet held securely under his other arm. “And a round of Mando Mind Bombers for everyone!”
The hull of The Krayt Dragons Breath shuddered as it touched down in the designated landing zone. TuQ quickly flicked switches and pushed buttons to shut down the ships systems before getting up and exiting the cockpit. It would be good for him to get out and stretch his legs a bit, his role as Pro Consul had him jumping all across the galaxy on official clan business and he needed a bit of rest and relaxation before getting back to work. He had been cooped up in his U-Wing for what felt like weeks and he was beginning to grow a little stir crazy. As he descended the ramp, his droid Peek rolled along behind him. An attendant approached the Plagueian.
“Welcome sir, have you been here before?”
“I have,” TuQ nodded in affirmation.
“Perfect, so you’re already aware of our policies!” The attendants eyes lowered to the small droid at TuQ’uan’s feet that seemed to be making a growling sound with its servos. TuQ noticed the aggressiveness displayed by his droid.
“Peek, stop. Be good or you stay on the ship!” As Peek let out a squeak of embarrassment, TuQ returned his attention to the attendant. “Sorry about him, he can be a bit…much.”
TuQ thanked the attendant and made his way towards the main hub of the Shame Corner.
“Yes.” She paused. “Oh, you meant like, specifics. A double of Consul’s Choice for m'they'dy, because someone tried to get into my flask earlier.” She winked at Aralia.
“And… I’ll probably regret this, but a bottle of Cortyg brandy.” The Wookiee firewater was unpleasantly strong even for her tastes, but if Aralia was determined to risk alcohol poisoning, there were few better options.
“What’s the cheers for a Mando Mind Bomb, Iddy?”
<@244244163002892288>
The young Firrerreo tensed as a vibrant stranger took a seat in front of her and Sebastian. His reasoning was sound but with her bandwidth stretched to its breaking point and her anxieties high over the recent injuries inflicted upon the man beside her, she was hesitant to allow the stranger to sit across from them.
Lektra looked up to Sebastian for his opinion, her mossy irises locking on to his golden orbs. If he was okay with it, she was also okay with it. So, she nodded to the vibrantly dressed man and introduced herself. “My name is Lektra,” she said, foregoing a comment on whether or not be could sit. There was no need to parrot Sebastian
<@315438760428961793>
“Keep your brain in a bucket and a bucket on your brain, drink and its down the drain,” Idris recited.
He gave a slight bow before he lowered himself into the seat of the booth across from the other two.
“Thank you ever so kindly for obliging me,” that smile still spread across his face. “My name is Alex Draconis,” the name came out a little stilted, as if it were something he had to practice saying, “recently come into Captaincy of the fine ship Voidbreaker II. Pleased to make both of your acquaintances!” He ran one hand through dark brown hair slightly peppered with silvery-grey before catching the eye of a passing member of the waitstaff and waving to signal that he was ready to order whenever their waiter had a moment.
“So what brings you lovely folks to the Corner on this fine day, if it is not too probing to ask?”
Having not spent much time interacting in a social capacity, Sebastian only remembered to give his name when Lektra gave hers.
“Sebastian,” he said simply with a small smile. “And we was just travelin’.” It wasn’t a sophisticated answer but he wanted to kick himself when he realized that everyone who stopped at the Shame Corner were also travelers. It was too late to back out of the embarrassment of his reply now.
The young Firrerreo nudged her other half. Neither of them were the best at talking but she was hoping Seb would manage at least a little more.
Lektra cleared her throat and tried to straighten her posture while still latched onto the human beside her. “What brings you here?” She asked the well dressed man.
“Travelling is a glorious pursuit in itself, and one I find not enough folks indulge in,” he swept a hand out in an encompassing gesture. “There is so much to see in this galaxy, and most seem to never seek out more than a scant handful of places to frequent.”
A waiter approached the table and Alex smiled pleasantly at them.
“Ah, wonderful. I’ll take a pot of hot tarine tea, two ronto steaks medium rare, six eggs scrambled, eight slices of toast with butter and honey, and…mmm…yes, I believe a Diet Coke as well,” he gestured toward the other side of the booth, “and put whatever they’ve ordered on my bill, if you would.” He smiled at them across the booth. “Thank you for kindly sharing your table with me.”
“I was here on a bit of business,” he turned his attention to Lektra as the waiter nodded and headed off to put in the order. “My friend and companion Steven was having some issues with his programming, and the contact I was referred to take a look and help fix the problem set up a meeting here. But that has mostly concluded, and now I am simply killing some time - both to allow Steven a rest as his new code settles in, but also because I have nothing else of terrible import to attend to today. At least until something comes up, as it always inevitably does.” <@315438760428961793>
Drakai gave the board a thoughtful look, considering his options. He had just finished one job and had another lined up to begin in a few days. Typically he tried to stagger things to allow him some time to rest, if immediate action wasn’t required. Otherwise he just looked for the next one after he was able to rest up. He felt rested enough and his next assignment wasn’t scheduled to start for several days - unless they called him in early, which seemed unlikely given it was escort duty and following someone else’s schedule. He was sure that he could fit something in the interim. Sometimes people needed help. If that was something he could provide, he would. And if it helped line his pockets, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing either. Then again, sometimes he’d forgo payment or take an alternative form. Still, it was good to stay busy and keep his skills sharp.
He sipped at his caf and finished it off, settling his filter mask back in place. He was glad he got the smallest size they offered, just enough to clear the slight fog from his mind that often came at the end of a long trip. He was already feeling better, so it must have done the trick. His eyes caught sight of something mentioning farmers in the outer rim. His hand reached out to pull the flimsiplast from the board. There wasn’t much information on it, at least nothing that would help him figure out the specifics of the situation.
He looked around. There was a counter nearby, though nondescript, no clear markings as to its purpose. Could that be where he could find out more regarding the posting? With no better idea in mind, he discarded his empty cup in the proper bin along the wall and began to make his way over to speak with the employee stationed there.
Sebastian was thankful Lektra was at least a bit more socialized than him. Her question opened the floodgates for the stranger to chat about traveling and the going ons in his world. Droids were intriguing to the Human but growing up poor meant he interacted with them from a distance. Not to mention, Lektra was always weird about them. “That’s cool. Glad it’s, uh, worked out for you.”
When the man offered to pay Seb looked at Lektra then back at the man. “Uh-I, um, you don’t gotta worry ‘bout that, man. It’s pay what you want so we just leava tip when we can.”
<@301514304845381632>
The smile which seemed to be permanently on his face deepened, and finally appeared to truly reach his eyes as they glinted slightly.
“I understand the rules of operation of this place,” another loose hand wave, “but I tend to try to pay my fair share toward that which I partake of. It is of little bother to me, and helps stretch the funding of this station further for those in need. I still encourage you to leave that tip if you can spare - a worthwhile show of appreciation for the fine work the staff around here do - but I will be doing my part and covering the market value of that which you and your lovely friend choose to partake of, young Sebastian. My life has been fortunate enough to find me with a comfortable surplus of resources and while I do not take them for granted, I also do not shy away from spending them as the occasion calls for. After all, you cannot take any of it with you when you go.” His eyes stared off unseeingly into the distance for but a brief moment as he said the last, but quickly returned to their joyous sparkle.
“Anywhere interesting you two saw on your travels? If you are at all interested, we can trade traveler’s tales.” <@315438760428961793> <@301514304845381632>
Although Sebastian did his best to keep a friendly demeanor from the stranger who offered to pay, beneath the surface he was starting to get irritated. Being lectured by a rich man was the last thing he thought would happen while traveling. Alex’s smile and demeanor reminded him of every failed promise from a politician or rich person visited his home city. Deep down, he knew the comparison was probably unfair but it made whatever else the well-dressed man had to say uninteresting.
“Nah, we’re good,” came his simple reply to the man’s question, even answering for Lektra. Listening to a wealthy man talk about his fancy life and travels; he imagined getting teeth pulled was an easier endeavor.
<@301514304845381632>
Lektra felt a pang of guilt as the man flaunted his earnings. She could barely manage to tip, let alone pay for the full meal. She could barely stand it when Sebastian paid for anything on her behalf, let alone a stranger. But it seemed Sebastian was much more put off than she was.
The Firrerreo rubbed her temple for a short moment before interjecting. “We just left Corellia, actually. We’re on our way home after visiting some family. I’m sure our lives are rather mundane in comparison to…” Lektra looked the primrose suited man up up and down for a moment. “Yourself.” <@315438760428961793>
The older man deflated a little at the cool reception his suggestion of trading tales received. There was little in life he enjoyed more than telling tales - even moreso hearing tales from others. The boisterous energy he gave off clearly diminished in that moment, and anyone paying attention to detail may notice that everything about him seemed a little less bright, shiny, vibrant. The grey in his hair appeared more pronounced, his skin perhaps a little rougher and more worn, even his beautiful yellow tuxedo seemed a little bit more threadbare and ill-fitting. His smile dimmed as he leaned back in the booth and drummed his fingers briefly on the tabletop.
“Fair enough. I suppose I did say I would not interrupt you when I asked permission to join your booth and yet here I have done nothing but ramble on since I sat.”
He waited in silence for a moment, sweeping a gaze across the diner to see if his order happened to be on its way yet, but it appeared they were still finishing cooking and plating it at the moment. He turned back to look across the booth, just catching the tail end of the look Lektra had given him. Slowly, long-dormant gears began to click into place, and he leaned forward a bit again, speaking now far more solemnly and only the slightest hint of the convivial tone his voice had possessed up til now.
“I do apologize if I have given offense in my speech or manner. I spent a great deal of time away from…well, people, and am only slowly relearning how to be social. I can assure you, young lady,” he met Lektra’s eyes with a stern sincerity from a gaze that seemed near-infinitely deep, “that if my life is any less mundane than yours or Sebastian’s - and to be clear, I do not believe it is - it is only because I have had far more of it. The life of each and every individual in this beautiful galaxy of ours is a story constantly being written so long as they draw breath - and sometimes even past that - and every single one is interesting because of its distinct singularity.” There was a building joy as he spoke, though nowhere near what his tone once possessed, but also a deep and underlying melancholic weight that seemed to hang in the air between his words.
“The experience you have just alluded to, that of traveling to visit family, is one I have not experienced in longer than you can imagine and to put it bluntly is not one I am likely to experience again no matter how long I may live.” What smile remained on his face at this point seemed at best as if it were just a default, no real joy or life behind it. “Something like that is of no less importance, and almost assuredly far greater value than anywhere I have gone or anything I have done this week.” Alex fell silent again as a waiter arrived, laying out the plates of food in front of him which he acknowledged with a slow, silent nod. <@315438760428961793>
One of the few waiting at the counter, a young(?) man with a medium mane of dark hair and a face studded with piercings, looked over at Drakai’s approach. His pale purplish skin and cool eyes crinkled with a grin in greeting, and he waved, making various leather belted and studded bracelets shimmy.
“Hey there, what can we do for you?”
Drakai offered the man a friendly wave as he approached. Or at least what he hoped came across as such. Communicating emotions when half of one’s face was covered could be difficult. Nevertheless, the bounty hunter smiled behind his mask, trusting that it reached his eyes, as it was indeed genuine.
“Hello,” he replied. He was glad to have found someone and was hoping it was the right place, or could point him in the right direction. “I was looking at the board for jobs and found this one.” He produced the posting and placed it down on the counter. “There doesn’t seem to be much information on it, so I was hoping someone could tell me more. Is this where I inquire about such things?”
“Oh hey, yeah bud, totally,” continued the other man, whose name tag read Mako, affably. He grabbed a datapad out from under the counter, earrings and ear cuffs jangling along with rings as he typed. “Just lemme scan that ident code there…”
He held up the lense to the flyer, then tapped away some more.
“Okay, okay, pretty classic, this here’s an escort quest– I mean guard duty for an aid convoy. Whether you got a ship you wanna offer or just putting in some muscle – and that can be packing heat or unloading boxes, yanno? I’m sure you could do anything.” He grinned at the Kel Dor, cheekbones a bit darker, and winked. “Allllrighty, so, newbie speech! You ever heard of the Envoy Corps? If you’re interested.”
Between Lektra’s attempt to interact with the man, and his sad expression, Sebastian felt bad. While it didn’t mean that they were friends, the least he could do was interact. The guy had no family which he was sure Lektra could relate to and something he was learning he had taken for granted.
“I, uh, sorry,” he apologized, glancing at Lektra and sensing a bit of disappointment from her. “But yeah… she met my ma and sis. And, um, sorry you can’t see your family.”
Drakai listened to Mako’s explanation, nodding along. “Ah, yes, I see. Thank you. I have done some similar jobs in the past, so the concept is familiar to me.”
He shifted his stance, moving his weight from one leg to the other. While he had ties to the Brotherhood, they were often more tangential in nature, or at least not widely known to his professional community - or so he hoped, anyway. There was nothing wrong with it, but having some deniability could be useful in some situations. And he liked to keep his options open when it came to finding work, so not having many overt ties was beneficial. Still, he considered what to reveal to Mako.
“I have heard of the Envoys, although my knowledge of them is limited and I have yet to work with them so far.”
The Golden Griddle
The hustle and bustle of the mid morning second rush was perhaps the most apparent within the confining walls of the diner. Staff wove in between loitering patrons standing and sitting. Most were absorbed in either their conversation or rising from the hells of sleep into that of the waking. Watching one of the holo-screens projecting the huttball game from last night, Bax Utill had mostly recovered from the latter.
The heavy-set Besalisk rolled his shoulders, feeling the lingering cramp ebb a bit from cramming himself into one of the sleep closets last night. While not the tallest nor girthiest of his kin, the stout man still possessed an impressive presence, enough that he needed the larger size compartment for a proper nap or to take up two persons’ worth of bench seating right now. Pickings were slim last night however, so Bax had sworn to himself he would sleep in his Freighter next time…like he had promised frequently before on his long hauls. Bloody Kriff.
A hand scratched at the orange-tan skinned alien’s scalp, carding through short wiry hair beneath his three-spiked crest as a yawn escaped him. Bax’s lower limbs were crossed and resting on the table, his stomach pressing against the edge. And his fourth hand was busy lifting his mug to his lips, savoring the motor oil dark caf. A heap of eggs and meats and bread was before him, slowly being worked on. Wiping his thick bristly mustache with the back of his hand, Bax’s orange gaze flicked back up at the game playing.
“Ah, huttball’s not the kriffin’ same since Grozz left the Rotworms for the Hunters. They scopin’ all the best players these years,” he shrugged and uttered to no one in particular and anyone next to him that may engage in a bit of chatting.
“No need to apologize, young man,” Alex grabbed a piece of toast and scooped a generous portion of egg onto it, “unless you are somehow solely responsible for the inevitable passage of time and just did not choose to inform me.” A slice of one of the steaks was taken and placed atop the egg at this point. “Your sympathy is appreciated, though. I am…used to it, I guess would be the best way to put it, by this point. If you live for long enough, gradually everyone else you know eventually stops being. You meet new people, you see new things, but the ones who are gone do not come back and can never be replaced.”
A far-off look overtook the older man as he bit into the toast and began to idly chew. <@301514304845381632>
“No worries! See, the Envoys…” And the man launched into a brief, enthusiastic explanation of the Envoy Society, almost like instructing from a lecture’s notes, only his style was much more casual and rather fun for its irreverence. Mako seemed enthusiastic without being overly so, and by the end, had outlined many basics to Drakai of how, who, what, and why the Envoys did what they did.
“So, if you’re still interested, I can put you down as taking this job. It’s exclusive, so you don’t have to worry about competition. We just hope you’re motivated to keep the commitments you make.”
Drakai nodded along as he listened to Mako’s explanation. It was good to get a little more detailed rundown of what the organization was rather than going off of whispers and rumors or his own speculation. He was a bit surprised at the wide range of work the Envoys covered. While he had mostly done bounties and freelance contract work, what the Envoys offered would be a nice change of pace, giving him some variety, which was never a bad thing, if he were being honest with himself.
“That is most helpful, thank you. Please, put me down as accepting the job request. I think my skills could be put to good use there, helping out someone in need. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for more in the future.”
Mato smiled winningly and winked at him again. “Hey, that’s great, I definitely will. What do I call you? Can’t just be knightly, right?”
Once again, Drakai found himself somewhat taken aback by the other man’s actions. Given the circles in which he traveled and dealt with, such open friendliness was a bit uncommon. But it was not unwelcome by any means.
“My name is Drakai,” he replied, placing a hand on his chest and bowing slightly.
“Been nice to meet you, Drakai,” Mato said, smiling and chuckling a bit at the bow. He mimed it back, lower. “Please, bowing is more my shtick. But you take care now with that escort mission and let me know if you need or want anything else. We’ll look forward to seeing you here again soon.”
“‘My'they'dy?’ Hey, I like that. That’s got a ring. And ooooh, Cortyg!”
To Idris’ recitation, she laughed, tossing her head.
“Down the drain, then, maties,” they cheered as she tossed back the Consul’s Choice poured for her. She gave a woop. “Hey, Erin, that’s not bad. What’s a consul?”
<@645466919415054357>
“Oh I know this one. They are little boxes you can plug into your holoscreens to play games. I hear Stars of Warcraft has over 3 billion active players,” Idris said.
“Huh,” Aralia said. “Never had me a game box. Or a Holoscreen. I should fix that.” She extended her now empty glass towards Erinyes for some of that firewater bottle.