Aces High

[Wayde Korad]

​

It was a game as old as most of the venues that hosted it, but one that had stood the test of time; weathering the storm of modern technology and trends, to stand above them all - even now. A simple wheel, around which a ball was spun and one placed bets on the location on which it would land, a fools sport and a gamble few of the 'professionals' took. However, for those like Count Wayde Korad of Serrenno, it was an ideal hunting ground to spot the hungry city boys, or cash rich off-worlders looking to crest the wave of success they had just tasted at the wheel, and settle them down into something more serious. The Space Station, just hovering inside Sith Space for the next couple of months, was ideal for such a play; one Korad had made many times - find an inexperienced player high on success at the wheels, wet them with liquor and take everything they had at Sabaac.

As a member of the Club, known as the 'Bouncing Bantha' - little more than a converted mining station that made its way around the Galaxy on the 'Tour' - Korad had access to some of the 'Members Only' rooms, and thanks to his camaraderie with the Clubs owner, Marquis Du Hapes, he also had his own private suite, provided Korad himself spent a few days on site every month, to bring in high-value clientele the Club could leech dry. Korad didn't mind being a frontman for the Bantha, after all it was a good way to meet people, investors, fellow gamblers or other business partners - the entertainers and dancing girls also helped keep his interest fresh and ready.

Breaking his revere, Korad retired from the wheel table, clearly, tonight was not his night to rope in some unsuspecting drunkard, and retired to one of the lounges upstairs, open the to the elites of the Club. Given their location in Sith occupied Space, it was very likely he could toast a new partnership with some of this regions elites if he played his cards right. Nodding to the doorman as he approached, he handed the man his coat and cane, heading inside in his dinner suit. Naturally, he was unarmed - weapons in such a venue always waxed as something of desperate. Heading to his usual seat, his drink was brought over soon after, and he instructed the dealer droid to start the game, Sabaac, simple for anyone to join in mid hand.

Unsurprisingly the lounge was playing host to a motley collection of the clubs usual members, those who travelled for considerable stints with the Station, and those from the local population centres. It never ceased to amaze him just how diverse a crowd the Bantha attracted, nor did it amaze him how diverse their dealings were...


OOC - This thread is OPEN to anyone, but please bear in mind the following:

• We are in Sith Space, and thus I open this for any and all Sith to intervene should they desire.
• I do not own this station, so please feel free to write in rooms, areas and more should you wish.
• This is a non-violent thread, so fighting inside the VIP lounge is forbidden. If you really want to, fight outside

 

[Luther Lewis]

Isabella laughed with an aristocrat as he spouted another terrible joke. She silently fumed inside, frustrated at her assignment. She knew she was a competent agent, but the Galactic Alliance didn't know that, and had assigned her a routine mission with little risk. For the hundredth time she questioned her decision to defect to the Alliance, but gritted her teeth and gave another fake smile to the toady merchant.

Her mission was simple, mingle with the guests aboard the Bouncing Bantha, identify any Sith presence and decide whether the location was suitable point to monitor the Elite of the Sith Empire. She was also not to spend all her money on drink, gambling or cause any fights. Which was like telling Isabella she couldn't be herself. Indeed, tonight she wasn't Isabella. Instead, she was Margarette Antoin, a wealthy merchant's daughter from the outer rim, come to the club to socialise and catch the gossip.

Other GA agents had advised her to be vapid and placid to avoid attracting attention. Her stubborn and aggressive personality made this difficult and she had already slapped a young noble who had remarked on her 'figure in that red dress'. The other suitors had left quickly, leaving only a balding fat Duke from who-knows-where and a tragically thin woman with a sharp, condescending smile to mingle with. Isabella sighed inwardly as the Duke cracked another bland, tasteless joke. Unable to bear anymore, she excused herself and made her way to the bar.

The bartender had other customers waiting, but came to serve her after she gave him a warning look. "A glass of Corellian Whiskey" she said. The man made it promptly and efficiently. With a drink in hand, Isabella took a seat in a corner table to observe any proceedings.

[member="Wayde Korad"]

 

[Wedge Draav]

It was here that Wedge Draav found himself, mainly due to the fact that he had been forced into 'administrative leave' following a light amount of thievery of an X-wing. Granted it was to help the refugees and efforts at Velga. Though that mattered immensely, the fact was that Wedge did in fact, steal an X-wing, fuel it, and fired it without any authorization or sanction. That, and he inadvertently wounded an Alliance soldier in his knife's-edge close bombing runs.

Wedge ran hands over his face, watching a gambling wheel in the corner of the room. The bartender came up to him, eyeing the kid. Wedge looked up at him wearily.

"Something strong. Like whiskey."

He'd drank enough to know that whiskeys were relatively same in this sector. He got a stiff one, and sipped at it, observing the patrons. Before his eyes fell on [member="Isabella Fonti"]. His heart skipped a beat. Couldn't say why. Maybe he was drunk. Or maybe he wanted to talk to her. He would, however, need a few more glasses of liquid courage to do so. Wedge, however, wasn't making it a point to not stare.

Then again, Wedge was a pilot, not an agent. Although he had no idea of who Isabella really was. If he did, he probably would've looked the other way at first glance. Ignorance however, was ultimately bliss. He eyed the other patrons after a moment, but his gaze fell back on the Chiss.


[member="Wayde Korad"]

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Here's one thing a Sith had learned about playing games: forget about winning. If you even start, it's too late for you. You've already stepped into a framework built by another, and already are allowing that to dictate the terms of what you get, and how, and when. Defeat doesn't come when the cards come up poorly, or when the spinner falls on the color you dislike. It took root the moment you sat down at the table.

Trystis couldn't imagine anyone coming to gamble expecting to truly win. Not unless they were too far gone. They expect a pleasant evening, a few drinks, and they expect to imagine. That's the rub. They imagine the life that comes if they truly win big. They imagine rising to the top like a bubble in their synthetic champagne, and living a carefree life, and there's a pleasant buzz that comes from getting to think you're untethered without actually having to let go. And then you go home.

When he was younger, he imagined too. Now, even dreaming left a sour taste in his thoughts.

The man let a bodyguard hold the door for him, entering wearing a styled, grey-tone suit with a white cravat. His hair wasn't the grey of old age, but Echani silver. An Imperial insignia was pinned to his lapel, the vogue for patriots - but he was not a patriot. He hadn't been anything, for a long time. That was about to change.

At his side, a duo of loping, insectoid aberrations swiveled their heads to and fro -- an investment, courtesy of a certain, ooze-slicked benefactor and his own research. He paused expectantly after entering, surveying the guests (some afraid, some simply intrigued, others too drunk to notice) with amber-lit eyes. He saw little reason to lower himself to poking around, someone would come to him.

| [member="Isabella Fonti"] | [member="Wayde Korad"] | [member="Wedge Draav"] |

 

[Hailey Sosis]

[member="Trystis"] [member="Wedge Draav"] [member="Isabella Fonti"] [member="Wayde Korad"]

Harley just got paid, and she was in the area. So she thought she head in, and spend her money. She was dressed in a red and blue leather jacket, with matching hot pants, a white t-shirt, and leggings. She saw a few people in, and few of stared at her fab outfit (well more aghast). She head to the bar, and she saw the sly eyes at her, but she did not mind. As she got to bar the young bartender was serving another, it looked a chiss lady, well she was blue. She smiled as end of the day, she was part of the master race, her boss said so, and he was god.

chiss lady got some brandy, she decide to have some herself, I have what she having. The bartender just looked at her, he was thinking why did they let you in. Though he did notice the twin lightsabers, and guessed. He answered quickly ​Right away my lady. She smiled she not been called a lady before, well not unless they wanted something from her. The drink came prompt, and she waved her hand said The next person paying. Unfortunately she did not know how to control people's minds, but bartender Said Pardon? She realised she need to learn that first, and then paid him for drink, she then sat on the bar stool. Tried to figure where she was going to make her fortune, as she was going to cheat.

 

[Tiland Kortun]

He always felt out of place in gatherings of the youth- with all their energy, all their excitement. But, when one followed the path of the Force, it took him to where it desired. And sometimes, that meant taking layovers in strange places until he could find another ship. But for now, he wandered through the casino, clearly not a gambler.

He was simply another itinerant religious man, dressed in simple old robes. One could almost mistake him for a Jedi, except he carried no lightsaber. Only a walking staff and a satchel of herbs. But to those who sensed the Force, he was clearly a Jedi.

A drunken Twi'lek woman staggered into him.

"Watch your self," she slurred as she stumbled past. Tiland nodded with a warm smile, offering her his arm as she nearly fell once more.

"Of course, my dear," he added, "May I be of assistance to you?"

She flipped her lekku over her shoulder and took his arm. The old man moved his satchel away from her and followed as she led him to a different part of the casino. This one seemed fancier and more elegant. Yet he gave everyone who looked sideways at him a serene smile, one that radiated warmth and compassion.

He felt the presence of the Dark in the room, but let it pass. Last he heard, they were in Sith space, so that was hardly a surprise. Not that Tiland could keep track of governments anymore. They rose and fell all the time.

His companion stumbled again. Only a flicker in the Force caught his attention and he shifted, grabbing her. She huffed. Regardless, he helped her to a seat and stood, frowning for a moment before ambling over to the bar tender. He waited for the bartender to give him a suspicious stare.

"May I have some hot water for the lady over there?" He asked, giving the bar tender his most winsome smile. "She has had a bit too much to drink and I am mildly concerned for her well being."

The bartender, and several others, stared at him. After a few moments, he bar tender passed him a hot water canister with a grunt and waved him away. Bustling back over, Tiland pulled some herbs from the satchel, crumbling them into the hot water.

A crisp, clean scent wafted into the air, drifting through crowded room. He took a deep breath in and smiled. Tea, it really could cure all ailments.

 

[Kiso]

When away from what ever front she was fighting Kiso love to live it up, drinking and swapping stories with strangers, and suing some no so legal methods to win at gambling, this was a good life. Normally a gun ho mercenary would not been seen around such a place, with most people, but kiso was one for fashion, dress and when needed good manners, and tact.

As such, while there was no immediate fighting going on between the Sith since the fall of the Dominion, and little respite was in order. Walking into the establishment Kiso removed her cap, keeping formal posture, one fit of a officer or veteran solider. Walking in eyeing the other patron's she was not surprised to see a Sith lord, from the look of his artier and body guards, though the bug people seemed a bit odd.

Kiso kept walking around the bar passing several another people, a drunk pilot down on his luck, seemly entranced by a certain Chiss, as well as a strangely dressed Sith, who failed to force persuaded the bartender, earning a slight chuckle from the seasoned mercenary. All force users seemed to be just regular people without their powers, and watching on fail to use them for their own selfish wants was always amusing.

For the moment she contemplated sitting near the group in hopes of catching some interesting information, but was distracted by the sound of someone fallen over. Looking behind Kiso observed a drunk Twi'lek who had stumbled over, and a Jedi? an old one for that matter, she watched for a bit as he asked for hot water, but noted the man place some leaves in it instead of using it to wake up the woman. Soon the scent of tea wafted into her nose, something she had not smelt for a while, but remembered easily.

Walking over to the elderly Jedi Kiso sat down across from him, giving a warm smile in the process "I hope you do not mind my intrusion, I couldn't help but notice the scent from the tea you are making, it has been a long time since I have smelled such an aroma".

/ [member="Tiland Kortun"] / [member="Harley"] / [member="Trystis"] / [member="Trystis"] / [member="Wedge Draav"] / [member="Isabella Fonti"] /

 

[Luther Lewis]

The strangest woman that Isabella had ever seen had just arrived at the bar. She wasn't sure she was repulsed or intrigued by her personal style. It relieved her to see a person far more ostentatious than herself, however, and hopefully that would ensure that no one would remember a certain undercover GA agent.

The room had been fairly empty moments ago but it had filled rapidly with a varied assortment of people. Along with the bizarre woman, a haughty man with silver hair made his way through the crowd, flanked by horrific aberrations. She could tell he was a Sith, something about the way he walked, how his hand brushed were his lightsaber might be hidden. She didn't need any hints for the strange woman next to her however, who wore her lightsabers naked on her belt.

These were to be her targets then, and she had to find out who they were. She approached [member="Harley"] and gave a high nasal laugh typically used by noble women. "You are such a riot dear!" her tone was high and insufferable, even to her. "You're asking the wrong person to buy drinks! What we ladies really need is a good idiot to buy us drinks!" She scanned the bar, her eyes passing over a female mercenary, a old man in simple robes until her eyes settled on [member="Wedge Draav"]. She was surprised to see the famed pilot here, but supposed he had some downtime that had to be spent somewhere. A quick glance from him showed no recognition in his eyes. She could forgive that, she was all gussied up and this was the last place he expected to see her. That didn't mean she couldn't have some fun with him.

"Ahhhh you there!" she shouted, pointing to Wedge. "Come buy us a drink!". She hoped that getting her new Sith friend drunk would help tease out some state secrets.

[member="Wayde Korad"] | [member="Trystis"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Kiso"]

 

[Wedge Draav]

Red lights.

Men putting out fires.

Running. Screaming. Head for the lifeboats.

A pretty woman was calling him over. A pretty Chiss woman.

To be frank, Wedge had a thing against Chiss women already. It was bubbling up bad memories. Missing shirts. Wasted paychecks. But more importantly, he was unable to resist. He wanted to, but damn it, he couldn't. He went over to her, trying not to appear too drunk.

"Why don't you buy me a drink instead?"

[member="Isabella Fonti"] l [member="Harley"]

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Kiso"]

Tiland looked up as a young woman approached, dressed in quite the bizarre outfit at that. He smiled beneath the beard as she spoke and gestured to an empty seat at the table.

"I do not mind at all, my dear. Please, sit, and join us." He set his satchel on the table as he hummed quietly to himself and rustled through it, eventually pulling out a stack of small wooden mugs. He set these in front of the ones at the table and took a deep breath, inhaling the steam. It tingled slightly, from the mint, but not in a bad way. He crushed another handful of herbs in his hands and sprinkled them into the cups. "It is a deep tragedy that you have not smelled tea in such a long time." One weathered hand pushed a mug in her direction, still an open invitation for her to join him. "Where there is tea, we may find ourselves at home. Without it..." His voice trailed off as he watched the others pass through the room. It was getting quite busy.



"I am Tiland," he added after a moment, leaning over the table to give a close examination to the water. It was slowly turning green as it seeped through the leaves. It was not quite ready. "And by your walk, I do believe you are a soldier. Am I correct in my assumption?" He raised one eyebrow and met her gaze. As he waited for an answer, he pulled a few more things from the satchel- a battered teapot with elegant traceries, a linen cloth, and a whisk. Each one was laid on the table in precisely the right position. The old man looked up and met her gaze. "When did you last have a tea ceremony?"

Hardly a proper tea ceremony, given their location and everything around them, but it would have to do. While the ritual was important, it was merely the platform the development of something else- a time of reflection and cultivation for the relationship. As one prepared soil to plant herbs, so one prepared a time to grow a meeting time with the ceremony of tea. And in all these things, the Force grew and moved, just as the steam that curled from the tea rose.

The water turned a rich, yet still clear, shade of green and Tiland brought out the whisk, carefully stirring the tea into the water. It frothed as the plant particles spread throughout the rest of the water, but it settled. He smiled- his beard changing shape with the motion and leaned back in the seat.

"The time has come."

The words were ambiguous and hinted at something more, although he knew not what they were for. He sensed the truth in the words, one carried by the Cosmic Force. Only time would reveal what they meant, however.

 

[Hailey Sosis]

[member="Isabella Fonti"] [member="Wedge Draav"]

A chiss woman came over to her, and told her that was wrong way to get her to get free drinks. She smiled and thought, but I came for the gambling, but okay I game. She downed her brandy in one, it was very smooth on the way down. She liked it, maybe she should have more, maybe the chiss was right. She then beckoned over a tall, kinda of handsome man over. She figured he was the one, who was going to buy them drinks, well she liked this idea, she can cheat another day. She listened as she spoke, and figured what the hell this is going to be fun, she was going to see where the night lead. As he came over to them, she figured well he caught the bait, as her mum use to say. That was back on Coruscant, she not been back there for awhile, not since the Galactic Alliance took it over. She then heard him ask, why they should not buy him a drink, well that was because that was not the plan.

So she being slightly smaller than her new friend, the chiss lady. She leaned into her, and put herself under her arm, and leaned in, and rested her head on her slightly, as she leaned in her right hand moved behind her. It gently brushed past her bum, enough for her to feel it, and then rested on her hip, and then said Cuz. As she held out her empty glass, with her other hand. Her voice sounded soft, as her mum told her to be when she wanted something from a man.

 

[Kiso]

Kiso shuffle in her seat, getting comfortable once the elderly man responded and welcomed her to take a proper seat. Watching with interest as he continued to prepare the tea, pulling out cups and adding some herbs to each one. "It is a shame I have not been able to partake in a traditional tea ceremony, but my life style does not leave me it if time, though I could myself much more enjoyable with company". She caught the cups as it was pushed toward her, giving a slight polite bow to the man, it was easy to this person was wise and experience, something Kiso greatly respected.

She gave a quizzical look at him at the remark, obviously bringing up a point but not taking it any where, distracted by other patrons, was he worried about the Sith, or just not used to this certain environment. "Its a pleasure to meet you Tiland, my name is Kiso, and yes your are correct I am a solider, mainly on of fortune, though I may always appear professional i take my job seriously". She watch closely as Tiland presented the different item used in a traditional tea ceremony, why he was carrying them around in a casino was beyond her, all force users seemed to be odd in some regard.

Her gaze shifted back to the man as Tiland posed his next question, "hmmmm, I recall some moment when I was a child of partaking in the odd tea ceremony, though the most recent one was with my mentor, where they are now I do not know but I remember them fondly". It was though those interaction that the bond between the two was solidly developed, and Kiso could not help but get the feeling Tiland was thinking the same thing, though on a slightly different note. Though it seemed as though the tea was ready as the elderly man started to whisk away in the tea pot, very old fashion but carried a seance of familiarity to her.

"I guess it is"?, the way he phrased sounded rather ominous, and very foreshadowing, she knew Jedi had the ability to see into the future, was that why he was here in the first place. Kiso quickly shook her head, now was not the time for this, no point in pining over some possible future she had not much control over, for now just enjoy the company. She gave a slight gesture for Tiland to proceed with the ceremony, a bit eager to partake in one after so long, despite its unorthodox location.

[member="Harley"] / [member="Tiland Kortun"] / [member="Wedge Draav"] / [member="Isabella Fonti"] / [member="Trystis"] /

 

[Luther Lewis]

Isabella let out a surprisingly natural giggle as [member="Wedge Draav"] approached, who was clearly drunk but trying to hide it. "Fine, fine" she said, using her rich-girl affectation. "I'll buy the next round, but you've gotta pay up sometime!"

The Sith seemed like a very tactile person, but maybe that was because she was already near-drunk. A little more alcohol and hopefully she would be ripe enough to spill.

Isabella motioned for the bartender to come over. "3 shots of your strongest drink!" she made sure to slur her speech to make it appear as if she was already drunk. The bartender produced 3 shots of Flameout, a notoriously strong drink. She reached for her own and purposely knocked it to the ground. "Oh my! Am I that far gone already?" she exclaimed, now perfectly sober. The bartender gave her a annoyed look and moved to grab a mop.

She needed to know more about this Sith. Who was she? How much influence did she have with the other Sith? Isabella didn't want to waste time with an underling who didn't even know what a lightsaber was.

"Ahhhh but look at us, a trio of drunkards and we don't even know each other's names!" Her 'drunk' personality was maybe a little over-the-top but she doubted anyone would notice. "I am Lady Margarette Antoin, heiress to a large estate on Gall. But don't tell anyone I said that!" She laughed again with the high, nasal laugh. God, she hated her character. "And, pray tell, what are the names of my drinking companions?"

[member="Harley"]

 

[Hailey Sosis]

She followed [member="Isabella Fonti"] to bar, as she was buying. Though this would be her second drink of the night, though she liked the attention. Though the chiss was slurred her speech, may be she had few more than she had already. As she sat down next to other two, at round glass table there was four chairs, they where made from alusteel, with red cushioned seat and back rest, but only three of them so their was a chair spare. She put her drink down, on table and then said On the count of three, one two three. She then downed the flameout, and as it back her throat she cracked her neck, as it made tongue feel like it was on fire, and back her throat felt cold as it went down. Wow that was weird. Then woman spoke to her and the man, she told her she was a lady, Ohh fancy she thought to herself. She wonder if all nobles got up same things as the Zambrano's who she served. As she finished a waiter came round, Oh cider please. Then she looked at other two, Oh and their drinks as well, she forgot that [member="Wedge Draav"] was meant to be buying. Well I am Harley, I am from Coruscant, and weirdly I am a rare blond Epicanthix. I work as a minion to god, aka Emperor Kaine. She then looked at the chiss woman, she did have nice red eyes, reminder her of her lightsabers. So what do you do for fun?

 

[Wedge Draav]

Evacuating cities. Boats fleeing a burning city. Refugees washing ashore. His mind was filling his head with thoughts of people running because that was the smart thing to do. He was sitting with a gorgeous Chiss, and a marauding Sith. He had to play it cool. He didn't have an X-wing, what the hell was he going to do against a Sith? The answer was, not much. He wanted to wax poetic about his emotional state, and the current way he thought about it, but it came out as a certain curse word that began with the letter F. His mother, on Coruscant, absent-mindedly rubbed her left ear.


He set his drink down and got another shot of whiskey. No matter where he went, he could always count on the brown liquor to be some type of good. Then again, whiskeys in every part of the galaxy were different. Made them special. Made them unique.

Hopefully helped him forget he was sitting with a killer and a woman who was practically his ex girlfriend. So, needless to say- Wedge was freaking out.

He smiled and threw his hands up.

"I'm We-Werner. Werner Hodge. Shuttle pilot. Just going around. The galaxy. On a shuttle. Not much time for fun. Just work."

He was boring. He was uninteresting. That was the plan. Drunk Wedge had a plan. Be incredibly boring until the women found someone else to eat, or steal the soul's from. Or he could scream for a Jedi. They seemed to be everywhere nowadays.

[member="Harley"] l [member="Isabella Fonti"]

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Kiso"]
------

Tiland nodded as she spoke, looking up at her from beneath his eyebrows, still watching the tea. Froth began to form along the tops and he nodded with satisfaction. He raised his mug and inhaled, savoring the steam.

"Well met," Tiland said after she finished. "I am pleased to meet you and to hear that you have had the pleasure of a tea ceremony." He smiled faintly. "They have fallen out of fashion in many places of the galaxy. Who cares about tea when war brews all around us?"

He took a sip, and held it in his mouth. The different flavored rolled around and he closed his eyes to contemplate it.

"What was your mentor like? They seem like quite the individual."

The Twi'lek woman took a taste of the tea and stared at it in confusion. She shoved it away and staggered away, collapsing against the bar. Tiland shook his head, following her.

"She will not live long at this rate," he mused. "Liver poisoning has already begun."

So much for his informal treatment. The tea was crisp and refreshing and had a cleansing property that would have begun to help her heal. Yet he sensed no willingness on her part. Knowledge, yes, a certainty of death, but defiant unwillingness to change.

He lifted the cup higher, almost as in a toast. "May this tea warm our hearts and our minds, warming us to those whose company in we sit, and to all living things around us."

He took another drink and set the mug down on the table again.

"What brings you to this place?"

 

[Kiso]

She gave a nod to Tiland at his comment, "yes people these day are to busy running around to simple sit down a partake in such a ritual, those that do are either rich with to much time on there hands or elderly, no offense". She placed her cup in the palm of her right hand while using the left to keep it stable, the more traditional method to drink tea, taking a brief sip the different but familiar taste coming back from memory.

"My mentor was kind, though she often looked stoic I knew she cared about me, we would often after practice sit down in Seiza style and partake in a tea ceremony contemplating the days activities, all while being in a mercenary group, I wish I knew where then went". She looked to her side at the Twi'lek as the refused to drink the tea and stumbled over to the bar, listening to Tiland's words.

She knew some teas had healing properties, and started to piece together why the man had brought it out in the middle of the bar, 'Jedi, always wanting to help people out' though it was a shame to many people fell victim to the bottle, she was lucky not to be a drinker herself.

Kiso raised her cup and toasted with Tiland, "I could not agree more, Hoo-Ra". She took another sip from the cup, enjoying the taste again, it had been too long. Keeping the cup in hand she contemplated Tiland's question, "Just relaxing, since the fall of the Dominion and several peace treaty's being signed my work has not been as much, though to be honest I was thinking of giving up the mercenary life and settle down as a professional Solider".

"But tell me, what brings a Jedi into Sith space"?

[member="Tiland Kortun"]

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Kiso"]
----------------------

Tiland settled back into his seat, listening to her as she spoke. He nodded, interjecting the proper affirmative gestures as she spoke. It was interesting, to see the conflict within, of a mercenary desiring moments of stillness and ceremony. Perhaps it was her path that was clouded. Or perhaps it was he that could not always see other's paths.

But he raised an eyebrow at the last comment.

"A Jedi, you say?" He chuckled. "I am impressed that you see me as one, but I am no Jedi. Just a traveling healer, an herbalist. I travel from place to place and am seeking another ship to carry me onto the next phase of my journey. But you, you seem to be in the midst of a crossroad in your path. You speak of settling down as a professional soldier and yet you mourn the inability to cultivate time to foster peace and contemplative relationships. Perhaps your path and your desires from life are in conflict, rather than in harmony. Do you wish to exist with your life in conflict?"

 

[Hailey Sosis]

[member="Wedge Draav"] [member="Isabella Fonti"]

She turned as pilot spoke, and began drinking her cider as the waiter brought it to her. The flameout was starting to go to her head as well, she could not decide which she liked the look of more. The cute pilot or red eyed chiss, the fact her eyes wandered on both of them, more than a little may of betrayed her thoughts. As he spoke about his job, she hardly heard him, her mind filtered out the boring stuff, as she was bit tipsy. She then asked So do you work for Darth Banshee? She knew she was hiring at the moment, as she was trying to build up her own power base even further. This was an open secret, hell they probably knew that already. She glanced back at the chiss woman, after speaking. She then giggled to herself, as she finally got the joke she was told earlier. She was not brightest of sparks, and also due to her postion not having many friends, may be both could be her friend. She took another swig of her cider, and laid back a bit in her chair.

 

[Luther Lewis]

The situation was going downhill. She wasn't sure who had organized the operation, but clearly they thought it would be a routine mission. That was not the case. The bar was filling up with a multitude of people, some carrying lightsabers, others simply hardened mercenaries. Her trainers had warned her to limit contact with force-users while undercover, because they had a habit of probing the brain for information. She was keeping her surface thoughts as ridiculous and erratic as possible, hoping that anyone who read her thoughts would merely think her drunk. However, it was making it difficult to think of any sort of plan.

And then there was @Harley. Isabella's blood had frozen when the Sith had mentioned Emperor Kaine. She'd read a dossier on him though with a reputation like that, she'd be wouldn't be surprised if the whole galaxy knew him. Kaine Zambrano aka Darth Carnifex, The Butcher King and half a dozen other horrific titles. And this woman worked for him. She felt light-headed and fought down a surge of panic. She was safe for now, but she would need to leave soon. This woman was dangerous, and could probably kill her with a thought.

She stuck her hand into her purse and pressed a button on a long range communicator she had. The device would wait several minutes and then start ringing with a fake call. While she waited, she ordered another round from the barkeep. She was just listening to Harley talk about Darth Banshee when the comms finally started ringing. She gave a look of mock-frustration and smiled as she said: "Sorry my lovelies, I need to take this call". She placed the unit to her ear and pretended to listen. There was nothing but white noise on the other end, designed to sound like indistinct talking to anyone around, or to sound like the signal was lost if someone took the device.

She pretended to be talking to her father and changed her face to look stricken. "But Papa, I have friends here! I can't possibly-" she pretended she was interrupted. She couldn't tell if Harley was buying it, so she decided to throw in a tantrum. "I hate you!" she yelled into the phone. God, she really hated her undercover persona now. "You never let me go anywhere, I'm a grown adult and I can do what I want!" She paused for a minute as she listened to the faux lecture from her 'father'. She choked back a sob and said: "Yes Papa, sorry Papa. I am on my way home".

She tucked away the communicator and gave a sad smile to Harley. "My Papa- uhhhh, I mean my Father, has discovered that I've been using his credits. I'm in big trouble, so I have to leave now". She stood up and stretched. "Good to meet you Harley, you should join me on a tour of Father's vineyards some time. Or we could just get smashed again." She handed her a slip of paper with a number on it. "This is the number for my personal comms". It wasn't, it linked to a monitoring device on her ship.

She rose from her seat and approached [member="Wedge Draav"]. She couldn't leave the ace pilot to the whims of Harley. "Mr Hodge, I need to get home urgently and my pilot is nowhere to be seen. Would you be so kind as to fly me home? My Father would reward you generously". It would be wrong of her to not offer him an escape route, through she wouldn't bat an eye if he refused. He was capable enough sort after all.