Private As Turns the Table

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Velmor Transit and Trade Station
In Orbit around Velmor
Imperial Space​

The shirt was just a little loose fitting for his liking. Only barely. Thankfully, it was not so loose fitting as to look large on him, instead it just looked like a style choice. A poor style choice. Brandyn could hear his father's chastisement from lightyears away.

Necessity was the mother of invention, and also poor style choices apparently. And it was completely necessary for Brandyn to wear the clothes of the man that was now safely held in custody within a NJO safe house on the station. Straitening his cuffs, Brandyn looked himself over in the mirror. He was handed the jacket by one of the Order's operatives that were assigned to the mission. That operative would have been in the clothes Brandyn now wore, had he not injured his leg in the process of capturing The New Way operative that was tied and gagged in the corner of the room.

Brandyn pulled the verdant jacket over his ivory coloured shirt. The jacket was of fine quality, embroidered with hand stitched rosettes that were connected with swirling waves. It was not his style either, the jacket. It reminded him of something his mother used to make him wear to formal gatherings back on Naboo. It was just a little to floral for his liking, though he could at least appreciate the craftsmanship.

"You have five minutes, Sal-Soren," came the voice of the other operative, "you got your cover story down?"

It had been a stretch to remember all the details, but Brandyn thought he had it sorted. "Davian Marcel. I am an importer of datapads, holoprojectors and sundry other small ticket electronic goods," he said, eyes looking up to somehow aid in remembering, "my fiancé was killed while evacuating from a Bryn'adul attack on her homeworld. Her ship was hit by a rocket fired from a Jedi cruiser. I don't think this was an accident, but a symptom of Jedi failures. When The New Way established on Velmor, I became its financier."

"Impressive. You had better get moving," came the reply as the operative nodded towards the door.

---

He shrugged his shoulders to dislodge some bunched up part of his shirt even as the waiter guided him to his table. Sitting at the table was an attractive Imperial, Brandyn's eyes perked up just a little, though he tried to hide it. At least when he failed and the Imp shot him dead, he could die looking at someone pleasant on the eyes.

"Miss...Brax is it?" He said with a slight bow the moment after the waiter had stepped away.

The restaurant around them was alive with activity. The wealthy elite made this their prime meeting location on the station. It was really the only place on the station that was sure to be free of what they would have deemed the riff-raff. As far as restaurants were concerned, the dark grey bulkheads lent themselves to a coldly industrial feel. The decor had been designed to match this initial aesthetic with the lighting being lowered, the tables being covered in dark blue tablecloths etched with a rich silver in their seams and chairs that would not have looked out of place on an Imperial Star Destroyer. It made the place feel cold, and imposing - and so, so Imperial.

Behind the woman at the table was the large windows that opened out into space, and the planet of Velmor glowed amidst the deep blackness of space.

"May I?" Brandyn said, gesturing towards the seat opposite her.

| Leandra Brax |​

 

[Leandra Brax]

Velmor Transit and Trade Station
Orbit of Velmor, Imperial Space

​

Leandra had caught wind of a new organization operating inside Imperial space a few days ago. Calling themselves The New Way, they preached some adherence to the belief that Force Users should not hold power or position within the governments of the galaxy. Bring Force Users under greater control and oversight, and hold them to a higher standard in everyday life. Some of their beliefs, especially their view on how the Sith seemed to be an inevitable creation of the Jedi were flawed in Leandra's mind, but enough of their ideals could be worked with. This group had lofty ambitions and a broad goal, but they were salvageable.

If they could be brought to focus, they would greatly benefit Leandra's goals.

The station the group was using today for their meeting and fundraising event, as far as Leandra understood, was modest in comparison to what she had grown used to in Imperial service. Most of the station was dedicated to trade and traffic, and kept everything busy and filled to the brim with less than reputable individuals. Exactly the kind of place the New Way felt at home in. The restaurant chosen for the first of several meetings and gatherings was meant to focus on those in higher stations, while future meetings, Leandra had gathered, would be held in more public locations. Leandra lacked her usual military attire, and had instead donned a black pant and jacket set with a white shirt underneath.

Taking a sip from the glass set in front of her, Leandra's instincts told her someone was approaching her. She glanced up as someone spoke to her, and she tapped a single finger on the edge of the glass in her hand, thinking, before finally nodding and gestured to one of the chairs across from her. He was dressed in, theoretically, finer clothing than Leandra, though they did not 'fit' him. He looked uncomfortable in the outfit, her hazel eyes drifting up and down his frame as he sat down. A waiter came by almost at once, offering drinks to the new patron of the establishment.

Leandra let an uncomfortable silence hang between them for several seconds before she finally spoke. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage. Might I ask what your name is?"

Brandyn Sal-Soren
​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

He took his seat, swinging legs under the table, and signaling to the waiter to grab their attention. His attention turned back to the Leandra. "Davian Marcel," he said confidently, "charmed to meet you, Leandra...may I call you Leandra?" He offered open hands of apology should he have overstepped his bounds and been too familiar.

"You are not obliged to, but you are more than welcome to call me Davian," he said, "it is my name after all."

The dad joke might have been a but overkill, but Brandyn was already moving on. He glanced up as the waiter addressed him.

"Yes, sir?"

"A bottle of your best please, my man," Brandyn said with a face alight with enthusiasm, "something buttery if you have it. And two flutes, one for the lady and I. Thank you."

The waiter repeated the order with a smile and made their way off to fulfill the request.

"Now you may be wondering why one such as a I, being an entrepreneur," he said, leaning forward slightly, "might have reason to assume that I can sit with an officer of our esteemed...Empire. Well, let's just say that I believe I may be able to act as facilitator for you, if the report is true and you are wishing contact with a certain...movement."

He leaned back again, smile working over time. "Besides that. You just appeared to need the company and who am I to say no?"

| Leandra Brax |​

 

[Leandra Brax]

Leandra stared at the man before her, who claimed his name was Davian Marcel. Her gaze was unwavering as he continued his outpouring of words, the only movement from her a brief flicking of her fingers to ward off the waiter attempting to refill her glass. She had already consumed a single drink, enough to keep her spot in the restaurant without too much issue, but not nearly enough to dull her senses. Senses that told her something was off with the man before her. Perhaps it was simply that he was a business man, and she a military officer. The two groups rarely got along due to differing mentalities, and for now she would say the feeling was based on that.

Still, she did not drink.

"You may call me as you wish, Davian," she held up a finger to forestall any quip from the young man, "within reason. I am here in a civilian manner, and therefore will allow the...familiarity of using first names." Finally, she looked away from the man and grabbed the cup beside her on the table. It was filled with a fruit mixture, something she had grown up with on her homeworld of Alashan. She sipped from it for a moment, letting herself think before she put it down and faced Davian again.

"A certain organization has caught my...attention as of recently. Your company aside, what is it that you ask in return for this connection?"

Brandyn Sal-Soren
​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

'Davian' smiled, relaxing into his chair. He sipped from the beverage in his hand. "I thought I could sense that you were relaxed," he said with a grin. Internally, he wondered what her 'serious' looked like if she was this steely while in casual mode.

"My company aside?" He said, "that is not something to be downplayed. A good time tends to follow." Brandyn offered a quick wink before partaking of his drink again.

"Before we discuss my terms for...facilitating...a connection," he continued, "I wish to discuss why it is that you desire said connection. Doesn't the hallowed Empire have its own ranks of Force using...servants?"

| Leandra Brax |​