Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Eloise was there at the Huttaburger, munching on fries, when Lady Taryn slapped Lord Albrecht across the face. They had been lobbing various "polite" insults at each other beforehand, but things shifted dramatically once she struck him. The Hapan noblewoman's long manicured nails drew blood from his cheek, drawing gasps from bewildered onlookers.

How did it come to this? Well, it's a long story. Eloise didn't know (or really care) how it all started. There had been some sort of disagreement, compounded by friction between two vastly different cultures, eventually resulting in an explosive confrontation. In retrospect, maybe putting a Hapan noblewoman and a Ukatian nobleman in the same classes together was asking for trouble. But of course the people in charge of student scheduling at the Temple weren't thinking about whether or not such a clash might occur. Jedi Padawans were expected to behave themselves no matter what, after all.

Albrecht hardly seemed aware that he was bleeding. With shaking hands, he took a glove from his pocket. "It is not proper on Ukatis for a man to fight a woman," he said, his voice pitched low and angry. "But this is not Ukatis. Our rules of etiquette do not apply here." He threw down the glove. "I challenge you to a duel."

"To the death?" Taryn asked, straightening her shoulders.

"If you are so eager to die," Albrecht replied icily.

"Hell no," Eloise interrupted. "You'll get us all in trouble. Use training sabers. Whoever gives up first is the loser."

That intervention sealed her fate. Before she knew it, she was Albrecht's second, one of two people bearing witness to a "private sparring practice" in the Temple dojo…
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Toltec sighed, waiting in line to give his order to the tender when the most annoying line, in his particularly busy and rushed day, was mentioned.

"I challenge you to a duel."

"Can someone call security please," Toltec rattled off between the mechanical beeps and blurps of his droid speak.

Security would never come, but fortunately the group would eventually leave the restaurant. Toltec enjoyed his Mac'n'Oil in silence, staring out the window as it began to lightly drizzle in the direction of the where the group had left. He privately wished ill will upon them.

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