Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Eriadu is where we catch Rimma

"The Rimma Trade Route will take us all the way to Kal'Shebbol. From there it's only a short jump to Exocron."

Amorella Mae Shamalain peered at the holographic projection, following the trail of the Captain's hand as he explained their projected path. She was en route to Exocron where she was to meet a newly revealed relative of hers ... among other things.

Normally she wasn't one to bother the people transporting her from one station to another, but this was by far the longest trip she had ever taken from her home planet of Kuat. So when they had descended upon a planet she was not familiar with, naturally she was curious.

"How long will we be on Eriadu?" she asked, standing straight and pulling a hand woven shawl a bit more tightly around her shoulders.

"We're here to refuel and resupply. Shouldn't be much longer than a few hours, Your Highness. We're in Omega Pyre space. Friendlies to the Republic," the Captain's expression was light. He didn't seem concerned at all, which was good news she supposed.

"Safe for me to stretch my legs a bit?"

"The last safe planet to do so, Your Highness. I wouldn't leave the Star Port, though. Eriadu isn't known for being clean and it certainly isn't a tourist attraction. After this we fly non-stop unclaimed space and will be on lock-down."

That was all she needed to hear. The Princess was in desperate need for a walk outside the confines of the ship and if this was the only opportunity she had, clean or not, she would take it.


A short while later found her walking the long corridor of Docking Bay 3. Dressed rather casually, she would have looked completely unassuming were it not for the Noghri Guard at her heels ... or the entourage of Kuati Royal Guards lingering just a ways behind.

@[member="Sarge Potteiger"]
 
The capital starport was about what you'd expect from a capital starport. It was big, it was noisy, it was overcrowded and a lot of its metal walls were coated in a thin layer of rust where the rain got when the bay doors opened to allow the incoming ships to land. Feet, covered in black combat boots, trod a lonely path across the half-cleaned floor.

Sanitation around here was good, in that you wouldn't get sick. But trying to clean the floor was something no one truly wanted to try. With the amount of traffic that came through at all hours of the day... he couldn't much blame them. Brown eyes shifted beneath his mask as his HUD filtered out various locals and guards, scanning for anyone who may have a bounty on their head.

Officially, he was dead on Dagobah. Unofficially... he was dead on Dagobah. Sarge was dead, so far as anyone knew. And last he'd heard there was a new bridge around here dedicated to him. The replacement to one he'd blown up helping OmegaPyre secure control of the planet.

Oh, what a tangled web we weave....

Smirking a bit, he pauses as a HVT is tagged and sent to his retina. A redhead - what else was new - and he blinked. That... wasn't right. There was little reason for someone like her to be out here.

Pausing only briefly, he began pushing through the crowd, his cloak obscuring him from view. Like an unseen icebreaker, he made his way close to the group which was, naturally, drawing attention. Eyeing them all through the black slits of his mask, he frowns a little and hones his gaze in on the redhaired beauty being protected.

And why are you here...
 
"Kefka is that a Starport Map? I cannot see."

Standing amidst the churning sea of star-goers, Amore pressed herself upon tip-toes to venture a glance towards the far wall to her right.

Kefka, her Noghri Guard, turned narrowed eyes down at her. It was not often that Noghri were taller than humans, on the contrary they were a rather stocky brood, but the Princess was of particularly slight build thus putting him at advantage in a crowd. How he hated crowds. The reptilian leaned up to look that way and gave a silent nod. Kefka grasped her shoulder and stepped forward through the crowds, emitting a low hiss to part the people. Behind them the retinue of Kuati Royal Guards followed, ever vigilant, their black armor gleaming.

"A drink, a drink, I kingdom for a drink...excuse me."

The woman smiled as she pressed through a gathering of travelers. They stepped aside - not at her behest, but at Kefka's. Beady saffron eyes bore into passerby, and if that weren't enough a quick glance to the clawed digits of his hands persuaded them off. Kefka balanced at her shoulder, shifting a keen gaze across the writhing sea. Somewhere off in the distance a curious jetty of open current bubbled from an unseen force. This concerned him and his grip on her shoulder tightened ever so slightly.

"Are you thirsty too?" Amore asked, distracted as she peered at the map, "Perhaps there's a place that has tea."
 
Stopping amidst the pulsating mass of bodies, Sarge slowly tilted his head in curiosity as the leathery-skinned creature bore beady eyes into his hazy figure. A smile appeared on his face, briefly, before it faded into nothingness and he began moving again. He was closing in on her when a short, pudgy fellow in the livery of the mayors office showed up.

Literally and figuratively, the delegate seemed to be sweating buckets. An unannounced visit from a Kuati noble would do that. Just as he was about to spurting a greeting and directions to tea... a gloved hand appeared on his shoulder.

Sarge was fairly certain he'd never seen anyone jump so high in his life.

"Leave.", he says calmly, masked face shifting to regard the pudgy fellow with apparent disinterest. "Now." And with that, the man fainted. Talk about awkward.
 
"Oh look, there's a Starluck's Cafe. Those things are just everywhere aren't they?"

"Good," Kefka replied, yellow gaze searing a hole through Sarge's faceplate. The Noghri signaled to the Kuati Royal Guard before pressing against Amore's shoulder, "we are blocking the map."

"Oh! You're right, sorry-sorry. Map's all yours now." Amore hadn't seen the portly fellow on the floor in thanks to the Royal Guards tightening formation around them. Cheeks pink at the ornery glances of other travelers, Amore waved apologetically as the Noghri shuffled her off along the wall, making sure to put plenty of people between them and Sarge. They couldn't risk causing a scene in the open, so as they walked Kefka quipped back to the Guards. Two fell back a distance while the remaining three stayed on their heels.

"How far?" the Noghri grunted, his grip on her shoulder unrelenting.

"It's just up through the main courtyard - Kefka I know you like tea but there's no hurry. We have a few hours to-ooookay." Apparently the Noghri had gone a little too long without his favored drink.

Once out of the terminal bay and into the courtyard it was far easier to navigate. Less people packed like sardines. This was both beneficial and disadvantageous. If that man was still following them it gave him far more space to work with and less travelers to disorient.

"There it is! Oh but the line ... " Amore frowned.

Kefka paused and looked around then jabbed a pointed claw over her other shoulder to a sit-in bar, "that place."

"I doubt they have tea there Kef-ooookay."

Once inside they found the booths and tables to be filled, so he steered her to the end of the bar and the few remaining open seats. Amore perched on the stool, folding her arms on the bar with a bright smile as the Bartender approached.

"Hello," she beamed, watching him as his gaze passed over her to Kefka, and then back to the three Guards currently arresting the nearest booth from some customers, then to the remaining Guards standing at the entrance.

"Crown Royal?" the barkeep inquired.

"What? No, that's too strong," Amore wrinkled her nose, "I'll have a whiskey-sour. Do you want anything Kefka?"

Barkeep stared and slowly walked off to make the drink, "Right then."
 
Noghri and hybrid met eyes, or rather, eyes met mask, and the two of them simply crossed the distance with their gaze. Sarge smirked. He was a good bodyguard, very good. But Sarge wasn't even trying yet. The woman? He could care less about her. This was between him and the xeno now.

But, he knew exactly where they were headed.

Cutting around the courtyard, he beat them to their destination... and waited out of the flow of traffic and where he could stay effectively hidden. Pausing, head tracking back and forth as he spotted them approaching, he lowered his head and stood stock still. Just like that, he disappeared from view.

Surprisingly, they went into the bar and she was kept securely under lock and key by her guards. As he, too, had been a guard, he could appreciate this.

But it wasn't going to stop him.

Moving to the bar entrance, he pulled his hood down and shrugged his shoulders so that the cloak became more of a cape, revealing a mercenaries fatigues and tac-vest. Reaching up, the man removed his mask and hung it from his belt, revealing a neck criss-crossed by black veins that stuck out sharply against his vaguely tanned skin.

Gloved hand reaching up to scratch at his beard, the mans black eyes drifted across the two guards at the entrance. The black eyes were new, the brown of his eyes slowly darkening as whatever was wrong with him spread.

Smiling faintly, he gave them a nod, knowing they wanted to stop him but couldn't. They'd get kicked out for denying the establishment customers. Or, at least, he imagined they would.

"I imagine he'd want tea." Came the quiet voice of the former Sergeant Major, his head cocking to the side as he narrowed his eyes at her erstwhile guard. "But that's just me.", he says, taking a seat nearby, making a point of not getting too close to her.
 
The two Guards at the entrance did as he expected. They couldn't stop him without reasonable cause, and aside from spooking a man of weak constitution and running amok with strange armor - he'd done nothing to warrant it. Still, this was the man the Noghri had alerted them to and so they moved to the inside of the entrance in order to keep a close eye.

Kefka bristled at the sight of him, not that it would be a visible thing given Noghri lacked any hair, but he made a point to situate himself between Sarge and the Princess. His broad build easily masked her from view.

For a moment.

"Tea, yes?" Amore leaned forward on the bar to get a look at the owner of the voice, head and mane of flame-point hair popping out around Kefka's right arm, "How ever did you know? You must be familiar with Noghri. They do love their tea."

Kefka grunted, scaled lips twitching.
 
"I've my ways.", he says enigmatically, a few credits being placed on the bar - the exact amount for just straight whiskey. His strange gaze locked onto her as he smiled in a way that might have been pleasant were it not for the obvious wrongness of his body. While there wasn't anything overtly concerning, as near-human species abounded, there was just something that implied perhaps this wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Looking down to the bartender, he gave a faint smirk and then looked down to his hands as he wrung them together. "You're a friendly sort, aren't ya?", he asks of the red-haired woman. "Unlike your protectors. I'm not used to being on the other side of the equation, truthfully."

It was, however, a nice change of pace. He didn't have to be hyped up on nerves, wondering when a weapon was going to be drawn. No, now he could relax and make small-talk and enjoy someone else having to be constantly prepared for something that wasn't going to happen.

"So, Lady, what brings you to Eriadu."
 
"Well," her smile faded ever so slightly as she glanced upwards at the Noghri whose gaze remained ever fixed on Sarge. Amore gestured to him with a hand, "he's not paid to be friendly," a smirk reappeared on her lips. The woman gently tugged at Kefka's arm in what might've appeared to be an attempt at getting him to move aside so she needn't lean so far.

Kefka didn't budge.

"That would be rather counter-productive, I think," another few tugs and the diminutive Lady gave up. With a smack of her lips she leaned one arm over the bar, supporting her chin on that hand, and took a sip of her drink, nonplussed, "Hm."

"I am on my way to meet a long lost relative," the presence of a Kuatian accent made her words light, airy, "my Great Nephew who is 150 years my senior. Isn't that just so peculiar?"
 
"It could be, yes. Or it could just mean he doesn't have to act so...", his gaze drifted up and down the Noghri for a moment. "Surly." A smirk played it's way over his face for the moment as amusement danced behind eyes the color of the void. Yes, he could see himself within the xeno, and it amused him.

Amused him greatly.

Blinking momentarily, the man cocked his head as his drink was set in front of him. "Come again? I'd ask how that worked, but I've lived too long to be confused about stuff like that." Shrugging faintly, he took a sip and sighed happily as he raised a brow at the Noghri and then raised his drink to him.

"So, Lady Mae, you stopped at Eriadu... to go find your long lost great nephew who is, rather surprisingly, at the arse-end of the universe." Nodding to himself, he purses his lips. "Sounds pretty normal to me."
 
Kefka continued to stone-wall the strange fellow in strange armor. It was unlikely Sarge would get an expressive rise out of the creature.

"Is that normal?" Amore looked relieved, "Well good. I was thinking it was somewhat odd but I suppose I-" she cut off rather abruptly, vibrant blue eyes narrowing in on her partner of conversation. The Kuati Princess looked curious, wry, and leaned a little further over the bar to try and get a better look at him.

Kefka squared his shoulders, effectively enlarging surface mass and taking up more space.

"You know who I am?" the question seemed to question itself. Amore propped a brow at him, straining to see, then took hold of Kefka's sleeve to lift his arm. She peered at Sarge from underneath it, "I was not announced and we fly incognito."

Sure, the Royal Guards were easily enough recognized if you knew their insignia, and within the media sphere of the Kuat Sector anyone would recognize her face. But here? On the tail end of Omega Pyre space? That seemed a bit unlikely. Either the man was very well traveled or he got his information from a very particular type of source.

"Are you-"

Kefka seemed to be following a similar train of thought and immediately recalled his arm back to his side.

Amore quickly leaned back on her stool, holding onto the edge of the bar to keep her balance and mouthed at Sarge from the other side of the Noghri 'a Bounty Hunter?'
 
Smirking a little as he stared into the liquid of his glass, he raised a brow and cast a sideways look in her direction. Shaking his head a bit, he eyes the Noghri as the male seemed to tense for combat. Even if Sarge were a bounty hunter, Lady Mae didn't have any bounties on her, so why did it matter?

Then again, one could never be too careful.

"No, no I'm not." With that, he gives a sad smile at downs a large gulp of his liquor. "I'm something far, far worse, I'm afraid." Shrugging a shoulder, he gives her a faint smile and then his lips return to setting themselves in a thin, pensive line. Memories flashed through his mind, of politicians killed and governments toppled by his hand.

For centuries he'd been an assassin, and technically he still was. You simply didn't forget a skillset like that. Thankfully, he'd not been called upon to do that duty in awhile.

"But I haven't done that in years upon years, so that's not a concern either. No, I'm a traveler now." With that, he chuckled. "Been one all my life, but now I travel for myself, not someone else."
 
"I see," Amore cast a sidelong glance at nothing in particular as she pondered a thought, "so you're a Lawyer." The words were serious but the muffled chuckle following spoke of her jest. Or perhaps it covered a momentary lapse of nervousness. Amore couldn't be sure, she'd never had a run in with the unsavory sort before - at least not to her own awareness. She was still blinded from the monsters with whom she lived, loved, called family, and was currently en route to meet, but these sorts of things had a way of revealing themselves in time.

Tapping her fingers lightly along the bar she considered for a moment the burly Noghri standing ever-alert at her side and was overcome with a well of appreciation for him. Paid to put his own life on the line, she wondered if he would continue his service if her mother died tomorrow and in a turn of unfortunate events she lost her entire inheritance. The Princess leaned forward on her seat again, glancing up at Kefka's back and smiled. The expression would be lost on him and unseen by Sarge, but the moment she felt would remain with her for some time.

Amore gently cleared her throat and lifted her own glass, taking a sip, "I'm not really a Princess you know," she said from behind the Noghri, "I'm something far, far worse." She smirked to herself.
 
"Lawyers argue over my legality; but I am not one of them." He raised his glass in toast to her for the moment before downing the last of it in a large gulp that send a painful burn down the length of his throat. "I highly doubt that. You've barely left your world these past few years.", he says with a snort.

Black eyes swept low over the counter and up towards the Noghri, where his right brow lofted in amusement before he shook his head and went back to staring at his now empty glass. Faint footsteps behind him heralded a few customers leaving, but with the guards in here no new ones had really shown themselves since his arrival.

Chuckling dryly at her comment, he shook his head and stood, as the Noghri was blocking his vision. Taking a step away from the bar so he could get a look at her, he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his fatigues, amusement playing it's way across his mouth and eyes. "But... I'll humor you."

"What are you?"
 
Glancing back over her shoulder following the sounds of his movements, Amore lofted a brow in return and planted him with a broad, jeering grin, "A politician." The woman wrinkled her nose and shook her head in jest, chuckling.
 
That wasn't what he'd been expecting at all.

He actually laughed, a loud noise that spoke of genuine amusement at what she'd just hate. Politicians were some of his least favorite people since they so often lied to get what they wanted. Twisting words was their game, and Sarge was a man who prided himself on often brutal honesty.

Hanging his head a bit as his shoulders shook with mirth, he shakes his head slowly back and forth and raises his head once again.

Fixating his attention on her, his expression shifts to one of utter neutrality. "In that case, I guess I'll just have to kill you."
 
Kefka didn't take those words in jest and made the immediate movement to once against place himself directly before the Lady. The three Guards seated in the booth a few feet away did not take kindly to the words either.

Laughter, however, was terribly contagious where Amorella Mae Shamalain was concerned. Her own joined in with his, ringing lightly in the quarters of the bar like bells. She tugged at the shawl over her shoulders, adjusting it as she dipped into a soft chuckle.

"I get that a lot," once again leaning to the side to peer around her Guard, she jingled the ice of her empty glass, "can I buy your favor with another drink? I have far too many people to swindle and hoodwink to die today," another chuckle, another grin, a flash of fangs in the dim bar light.
 
Guards shifting in an attempt to prevent a threat that wasn't truly there hardly seemed to perturb her conversation buddy, and, in fact, seemed only to amuse him more. It took a genuinely crazy individual to be entirely undisturbed by the thought of multiple well-trained opponents.

That, or he was someone who had the utmost confidence in his own abilities. Finally, he gave her the barest hint of a toothy smile, showing teeth that were just barely off-white. The bearded man finally gave a low, shallow nod and chuckled quietly. "That you may, Lady.... that you may."

Giving the Noghri an unimpressed glance as he walked past him - mostly just to annoy the beast - he simply took a seat next to the redhaired woman and settled himself in, folding his hands on the counter. "Just do me a favor...", he begins, "and don't try to swindle me. Last person who did took two to the gut."
 
Kefka eyed the man, subduing a hiss as he smoothly, silently reached down to take hold of the spokes of Amore's seat and shifted her several feet down the bar. Far enough away to be out of immediate range for Sarge. Amore took this in stride, her smile never faltering, and lifted her glass as she was placed accordingly.

The Princess, smirking, sighed in mock exasperation. Clearly she'd become accustomed to these sorts of things. If it wasn't Kefka it was her father or her older brother.

The Noghri returned to his position between the two, eyes set on Sarge, narrow and unrelenting.

"You're in luck, Sir," she said, waving to the barkeep, "I can only swindle in close proximity. What would you like?"
 

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