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//:...mission-link-established...
//:...location=...Denon
//:...equipment=Field Jacket, Tracker/Flash Goggles, Lightsabers, Gauntlet Comp...
Ahh Denon, it wasn't the worst planet in the galaxy, even by ecumenopolis standards. Being in the High republic was certainly a drawback as far as Kivah cared, not that she did too much. The Cathar tended to travel in the same style as a smuggler did, false papers, flags, and signatures whenever possible and especially when making a run for her Code Zero friends out from Etti IV and the former Corporate Sector, so being in Republic space didn't bother her more than making sure she didn't accidentally come up as a Sith and have that start trouble with people getting the wrong ideas about infiltration, spying, and sabotage.
These and her mercenary life in general were the sort of things Kivah was musing over with a drink as she sat waiting her departure time in the spaceport's public lounge. She may have only needed a few hours on planet to drop off a bag of memory disks, but the scheduling office had given her a full day of docking fees to visit the sights before trying to work her little shuttle into the departure boards.
Bored, she turned to crowd watching, leaning her back up against the edge of the bar as she casually dangled her glass of fire whiskey by the fingertips. Delays had caused a crowd, milling and moving about as a herd according to the whimsy of the PA system as it dripped hope or further despair with each flight number announced. She was raising her drink to her lips when she saw someone linger a little too long next to a table before swooping past. A moment later, the sharply dressed woman sitting there took stock of her belongings and pushed herself standing, with enough emotion that Kivah could feel her consternation across the lounge without effort.
Kivah watched her moment of distress, that's what she got for dressing so richly and not flying private. Should have dressed down for the occasion, maybe worn traveling clothes or military surplus like Kivah's jacket, drab, boring, the type of thing that let you disappear into any one of a thousand worlds without remark. Finishing her drink, Kivah left the glass on the counter and stood, brushing her fingers across the leg of her trousers. A single yellow stripe down the leg and the blouse under her jacket marked her as an independent captain.
"They went that way." She said by way of introduction, nodding her head off into the milling crowd, beyond which there was no sign of Aria's thief.
"But it doesn't look like you're going to have much luck finding them."
