Antebellum | CIS Dominion of Iktotch (U, 38)

[Ascendant Muse]

IKTOCH
1725 Local Time

They knew of their coming.

Though a footnote upon the annals of Galactic history, the rugged moon known as Iktotch was home to a hardy people. Over the course of millennia, they slowly integrated into the more peaceful nations - casting their lots in with such entities as the Galatic Republic and New Republic. However. When it came to the more malicious powers, the natives reacted before the storm could ever howl. When the threat to Galactic peace was just darkening clouds above, the Iktochi reacted and prepared - for they felt what laid in store. They were a gifted people, blessed with the ability to witness fragments of the future; and thus, they always managed to survive even the most deadly ravages of Galactic history. One might think that they deliberately used their gifts to avert participation in the numerous conflicts throughout history.

But this day, they seemed eager to aide a foreign power. In the present, their Southern neighbors had made the decision to take up the sword. War was coming: a preemptive strike against an adversary who hungrily nipped at the corpse of the fallen Galactic Alliance. And Iktotch was the final stop before the journey into hyperspace began. Within the fringes of their system did the Confederate warships muster, planning one final coordination before advancing northward for a three-day trek into Hyperspace. However, before the various commanders could so much as put their heads together, a transmission echoed from the rugged moon. From the deck of the Fortressa to the most modest corvette, all were hailed with but a single, azure projection. The insignia of the Confederacy, painstakingly carved into the earth.

They knew of their coming - and welcomed their arrival.

The leaders of the Iktochi humbly requested to parlay with the leadership of their southern nation, announcing their intentions of joining their cause. As they had in times past, their interests were in determining their own future and survival. And out of the numerous nations with ever-expanding borders, the Confederacy, to them, seemed the best chance for a thriving tomorrow. What’s more, their people understood the task which laid before the Confederates. They knew that their sons and daughters stood ready for war aboard the Confederate armada...and knew that some would never again see their families again. To this end, the people invited the warriors to their capital city so that they might send them to battle as heroes. A long journey awaited them - their final moments before bloodshed ought to be a reminder of what they fought to protect.

Thus, the iron streets of Ankhela were adorned with shining lights. Modest decorations were strung across rooftops - consisting of gleaming metals which caught the waning sunshine in dazzling fashion. The main avenue of the city was a sight to behold: street vendors lined either side, offering exotic wares and succulent cuisine to the Confederates. Iktochi music filled the air: a melody of strings and voices which was poised to carry the celebration well into the night. And, amidst the fountains, there was dancing, street performers, and all manner of merry maker. All for the warriors - all to remind them of what they fought for. Therefore, as the forces of the Confederacy weighed anchor in the heavens above, the soldiers had one final night to make merry and ready themselves for what laid in store.

Spoiler: Objectives

O P E R A T I O N​

A S S I M I L A T E​

The leaders of Iktotch are open to joining the ever-expanding members of the Confederacy - however, they do have some reservations to discuss. A meeting room has been set aside within the Ankhela Executive Spaceport, and as a reflection of their esteem no expense has been spared to welcome the delegation. Forge the future of the Iktotchi/Confederate relationship and represent the Southern Systems well in these talks!

H E R O ‘ S​

W E L C O M E​

The citizenry on Iktotch have banded together in order to remind the Confederates of what they fight - and as members of their warbound armada, it would be rude to turn them down! Partake in the sights, sounds, and cuisine that Iktotch has to offer! Spend the final hours before the fighting begins with a smile!

L A S T​

C A L L​

Let’s be frank, perhaps the music is a little too loud for your tastes. We understand, and as does the Last Call. Compared to the most notorious watering holes among the stars, the rusty cantina is the definition of seedy. But it has exactly what you’re looking for - a choice selection of liquors, a beady-eyed Rodian in the back with a healthy stockpile of illicit arms, and even a spice dealer...or five. If the party doesn’t suit your fancy, sit back, relax, and enjoy a few rounds.

Spoiler: Tag

[member="A'Runda"]
[member="Aiden"]
[member="Akabane"]
[member="Alexandrite"]
[member="Alora Fae"]
[member="Alwine Lechner"]
[member="Amarant deWinter"]
[member="Amaya Cardei"]
[member="Amethyst Atreides"]
[member="Amethyst Sovereign"]
[member="Andi Americus"]
[member="Anya Malvern"]
[member="Arabella Darkhold"]
[member="Archim Calixis"]
[member="Ari Zanareth"]
[member="Arlox"]
[member="Aston Jacobs"]
[member="Aya Clarke"]
[member="Azmodan"]
[member="Betty Americus"]
[member="Braan Kell"]
[member="Bandit Six"]
[member="Caesar Kenway"]
[member="Caid Centurion"]
[member="Callisa Asran"]
[member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"]
[member="Carith Thelcar"]
[member="Chikako Liona"]
[member="Cim Salro"]
[member="Corvus Dravere"]
[member="Daisy Americus"]
[member="Damsy Callat"]
[member="Danger Arceneau"]
[member="Daniel Americus"]
[member="Dalton Kenway"]
[member="Darth Tacitus"]
[member="Darth Timorem"]
[member="Darth Zurvan"]
[member="Dauntless.Luna"]
[member="Daxton Bane"]
[member="Derek Dib"]
[member="Dhakarta"]
[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Drauchir"]
[member="Ella Nova"]
[member="Erin Tenel"]
[member="Fawn Alzi"]
[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
[member="Gray Venasir"]
[member="Isarn Apis"]
[member="Ithiel Verd"]
[member="Jade Isara"]
[member="Jamie Pyne"]
[member="Jennifer Blanchard"]
[member="Jorco Czeku"]
[member="Jorge"]
[member="Josh DragonsFlame"]
[member="Jyoti Nooran"]
[member="Kalee Bladesworn"]
[member="Kaptan Americus"]
[member="Karlie Lynn Destat"]
[member="Kasca Fen"]
[member="Katria Vekarr"]
[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
[member="Kayla Wylen"]
[member="Kilia"]
[member="Kingsley"]
[member="Kip Ridel"]
[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"]
[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
[member="Kwelin Orlov"]
[member="Kyber"]
[member="Kyrinov"]
[member="Kyle Naktis"]
[member="Lady Psyona"]
[member="Lefwen Claskier"]
[member="Lirka Ka"]
[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Luna Vega"]
[member="Lyla Quinn"]
[member="Mallory Bash"]
[member="Maple Harte"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]
[member="Mauer"]
[member="Minerva Vessia"]

[member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Natasha Darkstar"]
[member="Nine Lives"]
[member="Orion Trex"]
[member="Osintrium"]
[member="Petra Cavataio"]
[member="Qaarssk Roark"]
[member="Razelle Breuner"]
[member="Roy Americus"]
[member="Rylan Kordel"]
[member="Samantha Jade"]
[member="Scherezade deWinter"]
[member="Shalita Vi'dreya"]
[member="Sola Marr"]
[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
[member="Srina Talon"]
[member="Taramaz Laurs"]
[member="Tex Americus"]
[member="Teyla Ee'everwest"]
[member="Thalira Kiing"]
[member="Tmoxin Temi"]
[member="Traveler"]
[member="Treiades Rhoujen"]
[member="Umai"]
[member="Varick Lechner"]
[member="Veronika Fleischer"]
[member="VildarnTentoria"]
[member="Vyra Silara"]
[member="Xenro"]
[member="Zephyr Carrick"]
[member="Zhai'ellev"]

 

[Adron Malvern]

​

O P E R A T I O N​

A S S I M I L A T E​

Location: Ankhela Executive Spaceport {Guest Quarters}​

Objectives: Meet with the Iktotch Representatives​

Companion: Luscia​

Wearing: Black and Blue Suit​

Tags: [member="Alessandra Creed"] {Feel free to Join in!}​

​

This was going to be a droll day. ​

​

Adron pulled a black T-shirt into his hands, closing the drawer to his dresser with a brief sigh. His Master, [member="Darth Metus"] had dispatched him to meet with the Itktotch delegation on behalf of The Confederacy. It was a simple assignment that did not hold much weight to it, yet the Exarch could not refuse his Vicelord's command nor did he want to miss out on a diplomatic mission. They were especially good for his reputation after all. ​

​

The leaders of Iktotch had provided Adron with acceptable quarters for his stay on the planet. It would do so long as it was only for a few days. He glanced around the room, taking in the rather unappealing interior. It was decorated in the planet's more traditional fashion which made it extremely unappealing for Adron. His eyes scanned over [member="Alessandra Creed"], who still laid asleep in the bed. The interior certainly wasn't bothering her much. The Exarch showed a brief smile as he crossed the room, making his way over to her. Laying the T-shirt down on the nearby nightstand Adron's hand brushed over Alessandra's bare shoulder. It seemed not so long ago that the two entertained such a professional relationship where their work always seemed to come first. Each of them were still very focused on their work but ever since Adron found out about the life growing inside of Alessandra he would barely let her from his side. He had too many enemies and the galaxy was far too cruel. He'd lost one family already, he could not survive that again. ​

​

Pressing his lips onto her cheek, his free hand brushed the sheets away from her body, allowing her to feel the chill of the early morning. "It's time to wake up." He said, showing a rather pleased expression. His hand rose, flowing over her abdomen and when he searched with The Force he could feel the life that she kept safe within her. "Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" He almost whispered before standing from the side of the bed, that smile never seeming to fade. He hoped it was a boy. ​

​

"We have a long day ahead. The Itkotch want us to provide full military protection in the next month but with this large of a deployment it isn't possible. They're afraid that they'll be the source of some retaliation from the Empire, what they don't know is after this the Jenari won't have the resources to strike at a swoop gang, let alone us." Adron turned to the closet, opening the door with a subtle push through The Force. He had brought a rather wide variety of suits yet not a single one stood out. The Exarch brushed his hand over a silver blazer, arching a brow in concideration. It was a bit more showy than he was going for this day. Eventually he settled on a black and blue suit with an ebony bow tie. He generally did not care for bow ties for anything short of a banquet yet this was supposed to be considered a festive occasion. Taking the suit he turned away from the closet, just as something collided into him. The Exarch was swallowed into a mass of black fur and a good bit of it went right into his mouth. Stepping back, spitting out a slob of fur he cursed as he looked to the mass of fur before him.​

​

He looked to see a set of eyes, one black and the other a deep shade of sapphire, gazing at him expectantly. "I thought you were asleep." He mumbled, however those eyes only narrowed as if responding to his words unfavorably. The Loth wolf had been a rather recent addition to Adron's family. She was a loyal friend however she was also very stubborn. It was no wonder she got along with Alessandra so much. "Next time don't get behind me like-." He said, cutting his eyes to gaze around the room searchingly. All of the door's to the room were closed and even the window was still sealed. "How did you get in here?" He asked, the horse sized wolf with a demanding tone. Luscia let out a shallow bark that almsot resembled a scoff, before bounding over to Alessandra and nuzzling into the bedded woman. ​

​

"Menace." He muttered, before carrying his suit over and draping it over the foot of the bed. "If I find one hair on this suit I'm leaving you on this planet." ​

​

Adron was met with a low growl, not menacing, but surely challenging. ​

 

[Mauer]

​

H E R O ‘ S​

W E L C O M E​

​

Equipment: Dreamsilk Formal Wear, Thinsuit, Magboots, .48-caliber Enforcer Pistol with normal slugs and borless acid slugs
Objective: Sounds, Sights, Cuisine
Allies: Confederacy of Independent Systems

Location:
In Front of Iktotchi Elder's Home
Residential Area of Ankhela

As a Viceroy, Mauer had some -- cough cough ahem almost a required -- obligation to partake in Operation: Assimilate and be apart of the Confederacy's delegation to Iktotch. However, after reading the reports of the very bland food that the Iktotchi had due to the harsh and unforgiving climate of the moon, he politely declined and instead, offered to do a cultural exchange with one of the Iktotchi elders by cooking for his family using ingredients sourced from his planet, Linuri. While Mauer had little care for interpersonal bonding, he had to fulfill his duties as a Viceroy to perfection and maintain his good record to prevent the damn old fleshsacks on Linuri from seizing political power and influence away from him. He knew that a single mis-step would be blown out of proportion by the propaganda machines that those old hags had, and it would honestly be a greater cost incurred to rectify such a situation.

Mauer walked toward the Iktotchi elder's home with his two personal IG-100 Magnaguards, which had been fully disarmed as according to diplomatic protocol. Instead, they pushed two hoversleds stacked with durasteel cargo containers, which were electronically sealed and temperature regulated for each specific ingredient and stored a wide array of appliances, culinary tools, and power generators. It was a tad excessive, considering that only a handful of persons were in attendance, but Mauer had extended the invitation to any other Iktotchi elders who wanted to join and other delegates from the Confederacy, so he had no idea how many were actually going to come. Besides, these were the finest and freshest ingredients that the galaxy had to offer, with each being specially harvested to maintain complete isolation of the ingredients to maintain absolute freshness and furthermore, shipped on the fastest light freighters available on the market. While there would be no large differences in taste if he had then shipped due to the special harvesting techniques, especially for the Iktotchi who had duller taste buds than most sentient beings, he was sure they would appreciate the thought and effort. And most of all, it would be a subtle flex of the Confederacy's vast wealth which allowed him to squabble away on such delicacies, although he was sure the moneybugs would yell at him later when they processed his budget.

As he and his guards entered the abode, he was welcomed by a humble space that seemed to have been cleared of its furniture to accommodate a long wooden table as well as a dozen chairs. The Iktotchi elder was standing there in wait along with his wife and small male child, before greeting them with a polite bow.

"Hello and welcome to my home," he said in Galactic Basic, "I hope that you had a safe journey to Iktotch, and we are graced by your presence Viceroy."

Mauer formally bowed in response and responded in perfect Iktotchese, "Greetings. I hope that my Iktotchese isn't too rough to understand, and it is my pleasure to be in your home this evening. I hope that what I have to offer in terms of cuisine match your palettes, and if there is anything in particular that you would like to eat, please do let me know. I have brought a wide-assortment of ingredients and I will try my best with my meager culinary skills."

 

[Mishel Kryze]

​

​

The dull lighting of the Princess Leia did little to stir its occupants at this hour. Mishel laid on her stomach with one hand under her pillow and the other holding Shia's. She shuffled beneath the heavy faux furlined blanket and turned to her side becoming the small spoon to Shia's large. Their cabin however small held their belongings with the low violet light bringing comfort to the Jedi padawan. Mishel missed this, missed sharing a bed with someone and feeling so secure. They were somewhere near the Ikotch system, at the behest of the younger and more well to-do sibling of Mishel. Still, no one was really going to complain when it was just described as a vacation near some gas giant.

So the ship hummed its way through the system, C7 on piloting duty while Lav slept on his hammock in Engineering. Mara rested on her big floofy bed in the cargo hold, although given recent events surrounding Romi Jade. Mishel considered giving Mara either her cabin or Coren's considering the Old Man™ was scarcely seen aboard the Princess Leia these days. The modified YT-2400 sent a ping letting the local authorities know that they were with the Confederacy.

Just as Mishelturned over and opened her eyes, she smiled at the sight of [member="Shia Kryze"] sleeping peacefully. "Morning."

 

[Helly Reyne]

​

O P E R A T I O N​

A S S I M I L A T E​

​

Location: Ankhela Executive Spaceport​

Objective: Use smart-sounding political jargon until it starts getting old​

Tags: None yet, feel free to join!​

​

It was what she wanted; a position that could actively have an impact on the greater galactic conflict. A position like that required at least some level of responsibility, something she had to learn along the way, because she certainly didn't start out with any. She had barely been introduced to the planet she would have jurisdiction over before being called to some form of summit with the Iktotchi leadership. There was nothing contractually or legally binding her to be there, but it would make for a good learning experience if nothing else. This was new territory for her, far from on top of a stage in front of a mic stand. If political meetings were more like that, she would be the best politician in the galaxy.​

​

Standing in front of the body mirror in her private quarters of the spaceport, she posed in a multitude of outfits for the occasion. It was a formal meeting, and Helly was not a formal person, to say the least. If all she had to deal with were odd looks, she would easily walk in with a tank top and shorts, but there was purpose behind this. Her outfit needed to display a level of gravity that showed sincerity in her presence.​

​

...But surely nobody would be offended by a bit of flair.​

​

A red uniform buttoned from the side was what she ended up in, with plaid sleeves that subtly incorporated a wide variety of colors. Black slacks fell over a formal pair of red boots, potentially not the most professional wardrobe choice. Tying her icy blonde hair into a loose ponytail, she shot finger guns at herself in the mirror before heading out.​

​

Out in the hallway outside her room, she made her way to the meeting room despite her nerves biting her at the heels with each step. Did she have a fanbase on Iktotch? Would that hurt how serious the Iktotchi leadership would take them? Or would it help? Either way, those she met on that day were unlikely to recognize her. They were probably too dignified for any of that.​

 

[Alessandra Creed]

​

O P E R A T I O N​

A S S I M I L A T E​

_______________​

​

Location: Ankhela Executive Spaceport {Guest Quarters} | Objectives: Meet with the Iktotch Representatives | Companion: Luscia | Wearing: Black​

Tags: [member="Adron Malvern"] {Feel free to Join in!}​

​

---

---

Alessandra was dead to the world. She didn’t feel the touch to her shoulder, but she did feel the cold, and immediately curled in on herself when the sheets were taken away. “No.”, came her muffled response, quiet, and full of petulance. Despite the time the ship-lag had led both of them to resting for a little while after arriving on Iktotch. The Minister of Commerce felt as if all her energy had been drained, all the time, and couldn’t seem to stop eating spicy nuna wings. Her eyes had barely opened and she could already feel pangs of hunger.

All that being said, her already heavy bones, felt like they were filed with lead. Her thoughts were just as heavy. She had yet to explain several conditions to the majority of her family. Alessandra had never shied from telling her parents anything, but, as far as this went? She hesitated. It was all out of order. She wasn’t sure how they would react. But, if she didn’t tell them soon, there would be even more hell to pay. It was their first grandchild…

They had a right to know.

Slowly, she came to, and turned a little bit so she could look at her affianced. He had been doting on her regularly ever since they’d had an official discussion. He asked if he thought the child was a girl, or a boy, and a sleepy smile crossed unusually pale lips. “I don’t know. A friend told me if I sleep with a wooden spoon under my pillow, tied with a pink ribbon, that it would be a girl.”

“If I wind up craving salty things, crisps, then it’s a boy.”

Obviously, that was because girls were made of sugar, spice, and everything nice. The dark-haired Sith woman did not truly hold any weight with what she assumed to be pointless wives’ tales, however, it was worth it to joke about. Alessandra had spent too much time worrying about how to keep the child safe, versus, whether or not it was male or female. She was already in love with it, the size of a peanut, and that wouldn’t change.

Eventually, she had to move. Everything in her protested but she was listening to the details that the Exarch gave as she slowly sat up. The décor of the room was…Tasteless. But, the bed was soft, warm, and their shared quarters held a full refresher with a private kitchenette. It was rough. But, unlike Adron, she had actually expected worse. “The force that we’re taking to Copero isn’t even a third of what we have to offer. Can’t we activate some of the droid army since they’ve been cleared of the virus?”

“It may not be the whole force they’re looking for—but we have the resources to give them something.”

The Jen’ari made many of the former Galactic Alliance worlds nervous. It wasn’t a surprise. They weren’t used to Imperial rule. When confronted with two potential evils, they chose the one that had defended the Alliance and safely relocated refugees after the Core was destroyed. Not the unknown dark.

Not a moment later Luscia, Adron’s Loth Wolf, bounded out of nowhere and greeted her Master. His reaction caused Alessandra to smile as she adjusted the thin strap of her silken sleepwear. Of course he was worried about his clothing. Honestly, sometimes, she wondered which one of them spent more time staring in the mirror. Alessandra scooted over slightly so that the beast could join her for a moment and the dual-eyes peered up at her. They were glimmering jewels. Filled with secrets and intellect. Luscia rest her head in Alessandra’s lap and the Minister reached to scratch behind her ears before petting the top of her head softly. She was a good companion. Loyal. “She’s not a menace…She just missed you.”

Chocolate eyes rose from the wolf before turning on Adron. They were soft. “I don’t blame her.”

Alessandra had experience in that. There were times when their work kept them parted. Less, now, with a child on the way…But still.

Regardless, the Minister rose, and got ready for the afternoon. She paused only to press a kiss to Adron’s cheek before disappearing into the refresher to shower, change, and indulge in a general beautification ritual. She took her time. As always. Perfection, could not be rushed.

‘Make me a snack.’

Her mind would brush up against Adron’s as she applied careful mascara to feather already impressive eyelashes. Alessandra dressed as her station dictated, however, she kept in mind the rugged populace that they were set to meet. In that respect, she kept it simple. Black, rarely, was considered unacceptable. In her ears she wore purple gems, ever conscious of her patriotic colors, but her dark hair was left long and loose—falling in natural waves of midnight.

When she emerged it would seem as if she’d stepped straight from a holo-screen. Not a hair out of place. Gone was the exhausted, mother-to-be, and here was the fork-tongued Minister of Commerce.

“What did you make me?”

Okay, so, the mother-to-be was almost gone.

 

[Nika Satari]

Location: Ankhela Executive Spaceport (Outside the last call)

Objective: Get a drink and relax before carrying on to the void station/ scout out the local cantina for information on which gang controls the drug routes around Iktotch.



She'd seen it busier, thronging-tight with travellers and traders. But even in the darkening light of the evening, worn-out spacers and tired-eyed new ones walked between the various diners and stalls situated around the entrance of the spaceport, the throngs of people from every species and walk of life came to call this place home. White eyes gazed towards the uniformed figures standing guard, they talked amongst themselves, settled in to doze or watch from corners and platforms, propped against walls or busy smoking as they observed people coming in and out. The ports increased presence of guards made things clear, Nika could almost cut through the tension with a vibroblade.

There were still no large crowds to hide in. Nika went in plain sight, her forged documents denoting her as a mere security consultant for the void station would steer clear any suspicions. It wasn’t hard to look like someone with somewhere to be — not when it was close to the truth. But she stood out due to her own mixed heritage. She made it to the doors of the Last call before being stopped by a lone security.

“Stop madam.” The voice was bored and habitual, no force to it and no sneer. “Identification please, its routine if you want to be here for the days celebrations.”

Nika looked up. The Iktotchi guard was tall, his weathered face betraying him as being of a middle age. He eschewed a helmet like the rest of the security, his horns were gnarled and one was half missing.

"Oh of course yes! here you go sir."

In other different circumstances she would've killed him due to her wanted status in other systems, but there was something tacked onto everything she said: a pause that might as well have leered her true intent. Nika bit back a snarl, tried to keep shy and humble.


"Hmmm.... security consultant? go on then."

 

[Shia Kryze]

Shia was manifestly not awake when [member="Mishel Noren"], her mind caught in a long, peaceful dream of another time, another place and another person. Which is why it took her slightly longer than usual to open her eyes - the usual light sleeping, catlike reflexes replaced by a gaze of manifest confusion as to what Mishel had done with her hair in the... oh. Right. Just a dream of the past.

"Jate vaar'tur kar'taylir." She replied with a long, lingering yawn as she sat up in bed, looking around the small cabin even as she put a hand on Mishel's side to ground herself. Yes, this was real.

Sometimes, she had trouble determining what was and what wasn't of late. Not just the usual 'I can't believe it's love' of sappy stories handed down from elder to youth, or the grand central romances of core world romance holovids. No, this was a slightly more fundamental 'I often dream of being someone else in my situation'. Which combined with the seven years in the Nether incident, made her wonder sometimes.

But not now. She yawned again.

"What's the plan for today? We should be arriving at the galaxies nineteenth greatest sand dune, shouldn't we?" Shia actually knew all about Confederate politics and expansion, she simply acted like she didn't care, because if she did then that might cause some problems for all involved. She wondered if that was how Koda did it all the time. She'd have to ask some day.

[member="Mishel Noren"]​

 

[Vera Mina]

(SELECT DIFFICULTY)

I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE

HURT ME PLENTY!

ULTRA-VIOLENCE!

NIGHTMARE!

ULTRA-NIGHTMARE!

YOU SELECTED: ULTRA-NIGHTMARE!



Arrived in: Saotome Envoy

Wearing: Lawyer Suit (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/139755-lawyer-suit/)

Armed with: Legal Tender (CIS combat pistol), stunning looks.

Objective: 3 ( "Negotiate" )


The Blackmailer had been cautious, Vera could admit that.

But not cautious enough. He had chosen the Last Call, a seedy dive the normally prim and posh biot wouldn't have looked twice at before looking elsewhere for stimulus. Some place public enough with the wrong sort that starting a fight in there would be a risky prospect at best.

But the trouble was, the blackmailer was dealing with Vera. And if Vera wanted someone dead, Vera would find a way. The Blackmailer choosing this spot simply meant he would would be humiliated differently and Vera would laugh about it later over a glass of nutrient later that evening.

The Biot's white heels clicked in the floor of the dive as the Biot walked into the Last Call, clad in her white leather dress. Her appearance was middle aged with ivory skin and blue eyes. She was voluptuous. This was intentional on her creator's part. All the better to lower someone's guard.

Vera, interestingly, intended to deal with this in a way that did not leave a corpse...she liked killing sentients in general, but not everything needed to be dealt with so lethally. But Blackmailers...you pay them once and they never stop.

Vera intended that this stop.

She walked in with a briefcase. She knew his plan...she had spied on him for over a week.

Vera's nose curled in disgust at the sights, her movements very precise, very measured as she sat down at a table closest to the exit. She was carrying a briefcase. Inside that briefcase were photos, not the credits the blackmailer demanded.

Vera had shown up ten minutes early. She looked out of place in the dive, not just because she didn't look like the sort who would come to this place, but her small, thin smile that she wore on her face like someone wears a jeweled accessory. But there was no smile in the eyes. Only a ruthless focus.

She hoped he got a kick out of what she had done to him. He was a tabloid photographer, someone no one would miss.

But Vera didn't want him dead. Vera was expanding her power base. Vera intended to break him into servitude.

He showed up, spotted her and sat down staring into that smiling pleasant face, her head tilting to one side. He was more dressed for this place than she was, clad in a black leather vest with a hood on it. His slacks and boots just as dark. His face was pale with reddish hair and brown beady eyes.

"You're early..." he trailed, his thick Nar Shaddaa accent crisp and obvious.

"You're one minute late." Vera replied affably, still smiling, even as her processors studied his physiological response. Her hands clasped together. "Have you brought the photos?"

"Oh yes...however..." he trailed.

Vera's smile became wider. She had anticipated this. One payment was never enough for his type. They were like mosquitos. Always a little more blood to drink. Vera, being a blood sucker herself knew the type. She would have done it herself, were their positions reversed.

But they were not.

"I brought the amount you demanded, Mister Kannis." Vera lied through her teeth, studying his skin and wondering how easily it would tear from a razor.

"No complaints there..." Kannis said in a voice quiet enough that no one would hear though he smiled widely. "Its just...with this compromising evidence I have that clearly outs your employer as some type of vampire...I have to say...it doesn't look good for you. But it looks good for me."

Vera's smile did not leave her face. "And why is that?" she inquired in that same congenial tone.

Kannis clasped his hands together. "I've decided, that, given how sensitive and ruinous this would be...a one time payment simply will not be enough. I'm afraid we'll have to make this a monthly arrangement."

Vera continued to smile. Kannis's own smile dropped suddenly.

"I must admit, Miss Mina, you are taking this awfully well..."

"One musn't let a hair get out of place during negotiating." Vera answered happily, bringing up her small briefcase. His smile became even smaller.

"Awfully small, given what I asked for." He grumbled. "A million is what I asked. Not a credit less."

"What I have in this case is worth every credit, I promise." Vera said, coldly staring at him even as her smile grew wider.

Kannis smiled a little harder again and opened the case when she slid it his way. His smile disappeared completely a second later though when he saw the contents.

It wasn't money. It was photos. Photos of his family. Photos she had taken in her Command Form from when she had kidnapped them across several different areas on Alderaan before coming here. His father had been killed hours ago, the photo lovingly detailing the process she had used to methodically remove his flesh. His wife had gotten the same. Frame by frame. Only his two teenage sons were shown to be alive, but even then he went pale at the tortorous process she showcased them going through. At the bottom of the case he saw a strange, small silver pill like object.

Kannis did all he could not to scream at her and demand his family back. Vera continued to smile.

"Mister Kannis..." she said softly, closing the briefcase, clasping her hands together. "Let's negotiate. Would you like a drink? I'm good for up to two hundred credits and frankly? I think a nice stiff one would do you some good right about now. You could drink to your sons health!" she suggested helpfully, albeit in just as quiet a tone.

Kannis stared at her with open murder. "Your fething boss is as good as exposed." he swore in a quiet snarl.

Vera leaned forward, eyes narrowing but keeping the smile.

"I'm sorry, I am afraid I couldn't hear you over the sound of replaying your fathers screams in my head. He had a very high pitch near the end, when the razor reached the stomach--"

"The photos are yours. Just give me back my sons."

"Oh, I'm afraid we are way past that..." Vera replied, studying his enraged, yet terrified expression. "I want something much greater for all this trouble I've gone to..."

 

[Adron Malvern]

O P E R A T I O N​

A S S I M I L A T E​

Location: Ankhela Executive Spaceport {Guest Quarters}​

Objectives: Meet with the Iktotch Representatives​

Companion: Luscia​

Wearing: Black and Blue Suit​

Tags: [member="Alessandra Creed"] [member="Helly Reyne"]​

​

If the galaxy was built on stupidity, old wives tails would be the bricks. Adron let out an audible sigh at his beloved's words. He knew she did not put any worth in them but that did not mean they did not irritate him any less. As the topic shifted to military might, Adron paused before shaking his head. "It may be possible. We do have a fresh battalion that could be stationed here. Regardless I cannot promise anything, actions like that have to go through the Ministry of War before they are passed." Adron already had a terrible knack for taking liberties with the government and it's functions. It would be better if he tried to limit that as much as he could. He probably would not, but it never hurts to try. Adron began to get dressed, watching as the monstrous Luscia stalked around the room silently. ​

​

The Exarch was considering the points of this evenings conversation when Alessandra's voice pushed itself into his mind. The Sith Lord chuckled softly when she asked for him to make her a snack. The man had literally commanded whole fleets as a teenager and now he was known in The Confederacy for bringing planets to their knees. He had fallen so low as to preparing a snack. Adron tightened his tie, glancing over to Luscia who had a certain look in her eye. It was actually one that Alessandra often gave him, one part challenge and the other part teasing. The Exarch exhaled softly as he moved into the kitchen. "Women."​

​

Adron took a few minutes to prepare Alessandra a snack of cheese and crackers. A few stray slices of beef lined the plate that he brought into the room with an amused look. "Here, this should do the trick." He would give Alessandra some time to eat and finish preparing herself before they finally made their way out of the room. Glancing at the watch on his wrist, it seemed they were making good time, probably due to the fact that Adron was an early riser. Luscia remained behind for the time being, something about a horse-sized wolf tended to set people on edge. ​

​

The first to meet the duo was the Iktotch Prime Minister. His flowing brown robes were less than regal. In fact the Exarch could not help but smirk at how rustic they appeared. The horned alien approached the two with arms spread wide in greeting. "Exarch Malvern, Minister Creed. I am Prime Minister Taeree Uhn. How wonderful of you two to join us." It was interesting to be met by the planet's Prime Minister. Usually it would be a servant or even a less-stationed official to meet the delegation, however in this instance they were met with the pillar of this planet's society. A terrible security hazard. "Prime Minister. Thank you for having us. It is The Confederacy's privilege to host Iktotch."​

​

"It is The Confederacy that honors us. With your support we will usher a new chapter of prosperity for Iktotch." The Prime Minister was noticeably optimistic. This was received with a rather cold gaze. Adron seldom trusted a man who was saying all the right words. The Prime Minister seemed to pick up on this, as he quickly tried to change the topic of conversation. "I...uhm...After you!" He said, gesturing for the two to enter the meeting room. His eyes would befall [member="Helly Reyne"] , making her own approach to the meeting room. The Prime Minister would step forward, greeting her with equal spirit. "Lady Reyne, I assume? Welcome to Iktotch my lady. Other members of your delegation have already arrived and we should be starting soon." The Prime Minister would offer the young woman a brief, yet respectful, incline of the head before gesturing to the meeting room.​

​

Inside, Adron and Alessandra took in the view of the rather large table that took up the majority of the room. It would easily seat at least twenty people and even had a walkway that led to the center of the assembly. Adron took a seat where a small Confederate emblem had been placed on the table. The Exarch looked over to the woman who entered, arching a brow at her while speaking to Alessandra. "Who is that?" He would ask her, confused at who would be joining them for the evening.​

 

[Warmaster Nyâsh]

Location: Ankhela Executive Spaceport, Guest Quarters
Objective: Operation: Assimilate
Attire: Colonel gala uniform of the Ultranaut corps

Efried woke up the two hours earlier, not spending a single moment considering the decorations, the architecture or the looks of where they were. He has never spend much time with art nor was he educated to be a eligable to comment on it or it´s subcategories. One would consider it a shame that he was numb for such, he would say that he was also numb for distraction or disgust when something was not pretty.

After waking up, a while before dawn, the Colonel got outside in a very simple attire, just a undershirt, shorts and shoes to go jogging for half an hour. He was doing his circles around the spaceport areas where he was allowed to enter and move around. It wasn´t such a large area, he simply did some laps before returning into his quarters.

Getting rid of the wet clothes, he was entering his bathroom to refresh himself and to prepare for the official business. His mind was quite clear, thanks to te fresh air and movement he already had. While adjusting his hair into something suitable for an officer, he was thinking back on the reasoning why he was here and not with his regiment.
Leaving out most of the diplomatic education and ignoring that part - military officers should never get engaged in politics, he was still chosen by his superior to partly represent the Eternal Empire´s military here. Efried had left specific orders for his regiment behind and hoped that his second in command would do as he was told. The training program was strict and the men shall be ready for combat.

After taking a small breakfast, nothing special and neither much, the Colonel never ate much, he started to dress himself. Once again he was not wasting thoughts on what or if it was appropriate for this or that occasion. He possessed no private suits, no fine garment - only his uniforms. He thankfully has the mind for not moving out in the field uniform, but choosing the gala one. A few minutes later he was closing the door to his apartment and leaving for the conference chambers, his peaked cap in his armpit until breathing fresh air again and then putting it on with the peak first.

With calm but long steps he was moving towards the meeting room. The colonel had a leather bag in his right hand, he had been instructed by his superiors as well, mainly being a spectator and writing everything of importance down, especially his very own thoughts. When being told that he just thought that they apparently wanted to make a politician out of him. He was shivering internally back then but accepted the orders as always.

Being greeted by a sub-official of the Itkotchi, he was lead to the room inside the building at the spaceport. Upon enterin he removed his cap and put it back into his armpit. Looking around he noticed the present Confederacy officials, but didn´t know them by name. He had a dossier with who is who in his bag, but wouldn´t open it just to greet people. A short bow to the present people was enough before the officer was guided to his seat and placing himself, arranging his equipment already.

[member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Alessandra Creed"] | [member="Helly Reyne"]​

 

[Luna Terrik]

​

[SIZE=12pt]Location: Streets of Iktotch[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Objectives: Hero’s welcome[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Attire: Confederate Dauntless Commander Dress Uniform, Black leather gloves[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Weapons: A180 Blaster Pistol; strapped to her hip[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Companions: [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] It wasn’t often the redhead commander got to have a night to herself, to enjoy the sights and sounds of the planets the CIS liberated. There was too much to do typically with the newest elite unit of the army, the Dauntless, to get time off to just go and enjoy herself. Reports to write, recruits to get up to speed, and briefings of upcoming operations to plan meant that most of the commanders time was either spent in the field, in her office, or on the training range. So much so, that this was her first opportunity to wear the dress uniform that had been delivered to her many cycles ago.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] The bright lights that had been set up by the people of the planet gleamed off the brass buttons of her coat, and the hat needed constant adjusting as she tried to get used to it. Thankfully, the night wasn’t too cold, so the dress uniform and gloves were plenty to keep her warm. Flexing her fingers in the leather, the commander couldn’t help but feel slightly..lost. No clear objective in mind, nobody that she knew of on the planet meant that she honestly didn’t know what to do.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Food. Yes. That’d be a good place to start the night. Maybe she would even meet some people to stick around with for the rest of the night. And if not, her shuttle was waiting for her back at the spaceport to take her back up to the Dauntless Legion’s frigate, back to her office. Even if she wouldn’t admit it, Luna did hope to make some new comrades and spend the night with some fun people. That’s what time off, albeit forced, was meant for.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Black dress boots clicked against the sidewalk as she walked towards what seemed to be a particularly hopping district of the town. Surely the best food attracted a large number of people, right?[/SIZE]

 

[Helly Reyne]

​

O P E R A T I O N​

A S S I M I L A T E​

​

Location: Ankhela Executive Spaceport​

Objective: Probably​

Tags: [member="Alessandra Creed"] | [member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Efried Halbrecht"]​

​

She could feel her heart practically freezing for a moment as she came across the Prime Minister himself, but frozen heart or not, she greeted him with her warm, winning smile all the same. There were video compilations of her 'best smiles,' so there had to have been something she was doing right despite her look of utter bewilderment when actually sitting down to watch that compilation over a year prior.​

​

"Thank you, Prime Minister Taeree," she said as she gently bowed her head for the man. She could only hope that she was pronouncing that name right. It was a relief all the same, however, to be greeted as any other official regardless of her celebrity status. "I look forward to our collaborative efforts in the near future."​

​

Helly was unsure if it was the nerves getting to her or the fact that she was playing the role of the well-behaved doorstep, but she briefly felt the urge to vomit after her face was no longer in direct line of sight with the Prime Minister. The man was wearing robes that reminded her of the traditional Jedi, surely he wouldn't want to keep up that same charade the entire time. Even still, the next world leader she would need to meet might expect absolute perfection in terms of etiquette, whichever world leader that might have been. It was her station, her job. The territory would demand it eventually.​

​

Upon entering, she sized up two other Confederacy delegates she had yet to familiarize herself with. They were like genetically engineered models, as formal and professional as they came. Instead of feeling intimidated by their presence, she took a moment to look at [member="Adron Malvern"] directly in the eyes with a subtle smirk across her lips as she straightened her sleeves, as if to say "That's right, I came to this meeting wearing plaid and there's nothing you can do about it." He could have been an Exarch, but if there was one thing Helly would never change about herself, it was to always double down in the face of a raised brow.​

​

Taking a seat near [member="Alessandra Creed"], she faced forward with all the confidence she could muster if only to establish her deserved place at the table. If she pretended to believe it, sometimes the pieces would fit in by themselves.​

​

That was, of course, until the man in black entered the scene. Nothing had ever yelled Imperial so loudly in her life, and it took a sizable amount of effort to stay seated and not tackle the man to the ground. Was this the kind of person she would need to get used to working with in the world of politics?​

​

She took a deep breath, refusing to make any sort of response whatsoever to his bow towards them as she reminded herself that it wasn't what was on the outside, it was the ideals that would contribute to eventual galactic peace. If this man was here in the room with them, then he would have to be aware of what it was all for. But the symbol of the Eternal Empire had her very, very wary of his intentions. Perhaps if this hadn't been her first meeting of the sort, she would have spoken up, but there was still plenty she needed to understand first. This man was merely one question on a long list.​

 

[Veronika Fleischer]

​

Location: Undecided
Objective: Undecided
Tags: Later

So, the conferency had expanded tremendously. Playing politics, power mongering, fighting battles to carve out more space. The witch joined because of power, pure and simple. The shaman spirit Jart had chosen her, beckoned her to join. So she did, though her priority was usually about her own business. She cared little about politics, though she could certainly play it well. If the former was chosen, she would walk towards the lavish looking spaceport to join in the mingling. Perhaps she could expand her business and set up a few stores. That was a tempting thought. On the other hand, she could join the citizens for some celebration. She never cared about them, but it was good for publicity shots. Imagine the numbers that would jump when beautiful holovideos were taken and uploaded onto her social media presence. An enticing thought. Lastly, she could avoid all the crowd and head towards the shady bar. Not exactly a place she would like to hang out, but she knew they served alcohol and spices. Drugs. Things that might just increase her blood pressure after drinking a glass or two.

The blonde found herself arriving on Iktoch and yet remained undecided. She figured that she had the time to make up her mind later, her attention spent on dressing up for the occasion. She was the walking billboard for her company and her presence needed to be top notched. That meant a crimson suit to put on, comfortable to prance around and not dangling like a train of torn fabric by the end of the day. She decided to put on her newly designed limited edition heels though, figuring that she needed to show them off. The ones she put on were inspired by Captain Phasma, a silver metallic pair that glittered whenever she walked.

Veronika Fleischer stepped out of the hotel and entered into the private transport vehicle that she had hired. "Where to, Miss?" the driver asked her courteously, while she pondered for a moment. "Let me think while I touch up my make up..."

 

[Lin Pal'Ud]

[SIZE=14.6667px]ignore, sorry[/SIZE]

 

[Iapo Sim]

[SIZE=11pt]Location:[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Streets of Iktotch[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Objectives:[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] undecided (Taking a stroll without creating problems)[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Attire: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Dark pants/ prison-issued shirt and a jacket.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Weapons:[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] kitchen knife in her boot/ broken BlasTech DL-22 in her backpack[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Now, this was exactly what Iapo needed, a calm, isolated moon, where nothing ever happened as long a people remembered. No more scams, no unexpected complications and certainly no more being thrown into prison for no reason.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]She felt the freighter tremble under her feet when it entered the atmosphere, clouds quickly obscuring her view of the moon. It had been the cheapest she’d found to leave Athos IV. She paid for the low price with the absolute lack of comfort and cold nights hunkering on a thin piece of fabric which could generously be called a blanket. Another half-hour and the screeching sound of the freighter door opening prompted her to get up and sling her heavy backpack over her right shoulder.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Her first glance at the port she’d arrived in unsettled her. “A calm, boring moon”. That’s what the crew-member she bought her spot on the freighter from had said about Iktotch. But then, why did the port seem to be filled with almost manic energy: people flitting around, military looking aircrafts and shouts from everywhere.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]For a few seconds the half-devaronian had to fight the urge to turn back around and go back to the freighter but instead, she sighed and discreetly walked towards a civilian looking street. Everything was illuminated brightly and numerous shops offered delicious looking treats. Her stomach rumbled loudly as if to remind her that the food on the freighter had been scarce and stale. “First objective”, she thought, “ find sustenance. Cheap sustenance”.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She was still looking around when she spotted a redhead in an official-looking uniform. Instinctively she ducked down. Her last encounter with security forces had been unfortunate. A second look made her rethink her previous statement. The uniform looked new, spotless and seemed to say “important military” more than “street guard”. Well, it mattered little to her and she ducked into a small establishment with a brightly painted front. There she looked around awkwardly for a second and spotted the last empty table. She sat down wearily and deposited her backpack close to her.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The weird feeling from before had not gone away.[/SIZE]

( [member="Luna Terrik"])

 

[Mishel Kryze]

​

Mishel waited a moment or two, letting Shia yawn and stretch before placing a kiss on the Rattataki's lips. "Mhmmm no," another kiss, "it is the twenty-first gas giant." There again she placed a third kiss only this time Mishel deepened it. A soft, slow and lingering kiss played between them before she pulled herself away and finished her answer. "I'm not sure, to be honest, she just said show up, have fun and don't blow anything up." Mishel chuckled and gave Shia a fourth kiss for good measure before sitting up in bed and stretching her arms with the blanket settling in her lap as she did so. She ran a hand through her hair and searched their cabin for clothes, and in between a yawn. "There's always the bar."

"Should probably get breakfast first, maybe we can catch up with Alé for, brinner or linner or..." A pause as she tried to remember what it was her sister said, followed by a rather elegant interpretation. "Something, something, something I demand that we share a meal together." The Tygaran pulled her hair to one shoulder let her eyes wander along Shia's form. "Which would also, probably, most definitely require wearing clothes. Fairly certain my sister would not approve of either of us showing up nude."

Although the horrified look on Aléssandra's face was almost worth it. Almost. If only because their mother was more terrifying and a Sith. Matricide was highly frowned upon within any Jedi Order. She swung her feet over the edge of the bed while simultaneously pushing the blanket off and stepped onto the cold durasteel floor of her cabin. Mishel shuffled forward toward the drawer and grabbed some clean clothes. "Gonna grab a shower, and uh, you are more than welcomed to join me..." She said while feigning some form of innocence and then walked out of their cabin and rushed for the refresher passing Mara on the way which earned a rather firm.

"MALAKA!"

[member="Shia Kryze"]

 

[Shia Kryze]

Shia smiled languidly and utterly, totally and completely failed to move as Mishel moved about the room. But her languid attempt to convince her lover that they clearly had more time was, this once, a failure and with a faint smirk she collected a towel and walked the short distance to the refresher without a care in the world for other people’s opinions.

She’d never been quite sure why people who lived on small ships got upright about such minor things as nudity, but she guessed she’d been brought up in a different environment to most people. But... they all knew, the Leia was too small for anything else...

Eh. People.

She slipped - well, squeezed - into the shower with Mishel, a faint frown on her face.

“Your sister? Demanding I have an army of robots girl? The one I should not call cute... OW!”

From a few inches away, the look she gave Mishel was mock hurt, and she rubbed her thigh.

“Be very careful about your next move, Jedi, or this could end poorly for both of us. Okay, okay!”

If there had been space to throw up her hands, she would have, but there was barely room for two people and the water in here, the soap was no doubt feeling squeezed. Not that Shia had any objections to that what so ever, if people had told her love would be like this, she’d... have gone chasing it, and never found this ever-strange woman.

“Wait, you’re going to see the classiest woman we know wearing that?” She nodded to the pile of clothes waiting to be worn. “I’m all for practicality, Mish, but you have to wear something a bit...” Danger Shia, danger, do not chose the wrong word. “...more in keeping with the surroundings. I mean, I’m glad your past the brown robe stage. But... maybe we should dress for the occasion?”

Any excuse, Shia Kryze, any excuse. She was not entirely sure if the thin, handsome face that gave her an encouraging wink in the refresher mirror was real or not.

Oh kark it.

“You know, like an actual dress? You do own an actual dress? Or... something.”

Shia was genuinely unsure, they’d been apart so often her gifts of clothing were both typically Mandalorian and not appropriate for public wear. Seriously, how else do you get those sprawling, extended clans?

The timing was perhaps unfair, but you used every weapon you had to hand, after all.

[member="Mishel Noren"]​

 

[Luna Terrik]

[SIZE=12pt]Location: Streets of Iktotch - Hole in the wall [/SIZE]restaurant
[SIZE=12pt]Objectives: Hero’s welcome[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Attire: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Confederate Dauntless Commander Dress Uniform[/SIZE][SIZE=12pt], [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Black leather gloves[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Weapons: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]A180 Blaster Pistol[/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]; strapped to her hip[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Companions: [/SIZE][member="Iapo Sim"]

[SIZE=12pt]It seemed as though her intuition was right, and there was a large gathering of people around what seemed to be a meeting square of some kind. Trinkets were being sold out of carts, street food being sold out of trucks, and street performers doing all of their tricks and feats. A right proper celebration and showcase of the people’s culture. It was incredibly interesting to stand and watch momentarily, before her hunger reminded her of the goal she had actually come here for, food.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Eating food out of a truck was nothing that Luna wasn’t used to, but she definitely wanted to get off her feet for a while. As much as the boots she wore were fashionable for her dressed up military garb, they certainly weren’t for comfort, like her typical army boots were. The place that caught her eye was a smaller establishment which seemed to have a large number of people inside. That seemed like a good enough sign, and Luna approached the entrance of the restaurant only to stop once inside.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] It was completely and totally packed. Every table seemed to have a family or large group sat at it. Even the small bar had every single seat filled. There even seemed be a small waiting list for those that were waiting for a table by themselves. The redhead commander frowned, slightly, and turned to leave. But not before spotting a table that held only one person, what looked like a 20-something year old woman.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Deciding it was worth a shot to try and sit with her, Luna slowly weaved her way through the crowds of people enjoying their meals together to approach the table, noticing the interesting horns protruding from her messy hair. Standing beside the cheap steel table, giving a soft smile and removing her hat, the commander spoke just loud enough to be heard over the people in the restaurant. “Do you mind if I share a meal with you? There’s a large line out front and I really don’t want to try to find another place to eat. I’ll pay if you’re up for it?”[/SIZE]

 

[Iapo Sim]

Location: Hole in the wall restaurant
Objectives: undecided (Taking a stroll without creating problems)
Attire: [SIZE=11pt]Dark pants/ prison-issued shirt and a jacket.[/SIZE]
Weapons: kitchen knife in her boot/ broken BlasTech DL-22 in her backpack

[SIZE=11pt]This[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], which was to say a stranger in military parade attire, sitting at her table, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]this[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] was exactly what she was trying to avoid, Iapo thought. But honestly what were the odds that on this harmless little moon she was accosted by a member of the military.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The young woman could have ranted on in her head for longer if she did not notice that the silence was stretching on awkwardly. She admonished herself: not a second into the interaction with that stranger and she was already acting suspiciously.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Instead, she glanced at the red-haired woman and noticed that she was intimidatingly tall, probably a head taller than Iapo, and stood ramrod straight and her smile seemed tight-lipped.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Then the sentence finally registered with her radically changing her mood: the woman was offering to pay for her food only to be able to sit at her table? Now, this was changing her stance on the situation.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Please, be my guest, it is packed in here and I never refuse a free meal”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The half-human hoped that the smile she gave the generous stranger was not as overeager as the prospect of a free meal made her feel. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]She looked at the woman again and decided that her expression may only seem strict in the dingy light of the small restaurant and that all in all she seemed like a trustworthy person. Intimidating certainly, but then again she found that women like her, who projected confidence and professionalism, were always intimidating to her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Another few words slipped out of her mouth.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]“Are you part of the weird group of people that walk around all over this moon?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The words have barely left her mouth that she regretted them, they may come off as aggressive, she thought, and she should have conveyed gratefulness for the meal instead.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Well, the damage was already done so she looked up expectantly at the military woman.[/SIZE]