Public Good Times on a Chilly Night

[Mig Gred]

Location: Vercopaanir, Taanab

Middle of Town:
Music: The Tunes
Where most of the celebration is happening, with various stales, tables, venders, and games going on, and an area cleared for dancing if anyone want to. Leddie Gred is their with her friends (The Hanger Queens) playing various folk tunes for everyone there. Great place for fun and meeting others.

Saldac Cantina: While not the center of the celebration, the cantina is still offering a different place to be for those who want to get a drink. It's also quieter than the main celebration.

Outer Farms: More secluded and out of the way, a few folks prefer to go out of town and into the farms surrounding it. Great view of the night sky.

Mig smiled as he watched his home town looking pretty festive. Stalls, games, food. He love harvests here. Reminded him of Concord Dawn. They tended to have more of them though. Living in space for so long made you miss some of the simpler things. Leddie was probably at the bandstand with her friends knowing her, and that was where he was headed to get a bite to eat. He'd notably also sent a message to anyone he knew that it was free for all to come, just one rule. Leave your wars, feuds, and troubles out of solar orbit. It was supposed to be a time for food and fun, not brawling... outside of the wresting/dueling rings that were for sparring. Hey, there were still a lot of Mandos there after all. Either way, he'd be headed to see what going on in the middle of Vercopaanir, where most of the celebration was happening.

Leddie meanwhile was enjoying herself playing music in the town center. Dancing along to the music she and her friends were playing. While Vaux Gred ... well she was at the cantina, just wanting to relax a bit from not having to fly patrols.

 

[Cynthia Solus]

The BARC speeder came to a slow stop at the edge of the rural agricultural town. Having taken a slower ride out from the capital, it took much longer than the twenty minute trip she'd book it in, this time was perhaps around fifty minutes. It was more caution on the Alor's behalf, especially since her belly was noticeably round. She could only manage to wear the arms and legs of her beskar'gam and even her buyce hung from the womans hip.

Cynthia's swung her leg with struggle over the body of the speeder before pushing herself onto her feet. Hands that used to be calloused and softening cradled the bump as she walked further in. She was always happy to see the mixture of the clans getting together strengthening their bonds.

There was no way Cynthia would miss this, especially some time soon. So it was a time to enjoy the simple things while there was still time to do so. Though not without a little pain, the cybernetics did pinch a little, but a bit of pain did not take away the joy she felt and what was a bit of pain to a Mandalorian?

Of course Cynthia has good intuition on finding people given that's what she used to do in the war. More so the after battle search and rescue. So it did not take long for her to find Mig Gred . Practically waddling up behind the man, her arm tucked under his and leant a little against the Alor of Gred. "Su cuy'gar Mig, mind letting me lean on you a little?" She said with a chuckle. "The cybernetics are not so good for three."

"So, how are you doing aliit? Been a hot minute we've seen each other in person. Oh and Saw the new ships you manufactured lately, gotta say they are beautes. Saw them when I stopped by at Vanquo."

 

[Donale Monecado]

The driver palmed the steering wheel, turning hard to account for the length of the massive cargo truck. The truck made a beeping noise as it inched backwards towards the cargo bay. Donale slammed on the brakes, the truck lurching forward unexpectedly. He turned the key in the ignition and stepping out of the truck, his breath visible in the frigid night air. One of the bay workers walked up to him, an older looking Rodian man. "Alright, nice. Looks good, excellent parking job.." Donale sardonically smiled as he nodded his head. "Yeah." After a beat of strained silence, Donale spoke. "Payment?" The Rodian made an expression like a man gasping for air in a room suddenly deprived of all oxygen. "200 credits." Donale's eye twitched at that, he got that look in his eye that the Rodian dreaded to see, as he was crowded against a wall by the other man despite his smaller stature. "Where the kark do you get the stones? Huh? I am bending over backwards trying to get this stuff delivered to you. Getting chased by karking pirates. Running through an asteroid belt like I'm Han karking Solo, and you're over here treating me like I'm some kind of idiot!" "Look Don, listen, I-" Don jabbed an accusatory finger at the green man. "This is how you repay me, Colo? Huh? After all I done for you? After all the favors and kark, after all the constant crying and complaining-" Donale sighed heavily and his finger retreated, balling up into a fist. "You're my friend. Friends help friends, and all I have done is help. Just get the money to me, and I'll consider your obligations cleared. Alright?" "400 ain't much more than 200 I just- can you back off, okay? I got a lot on my plate." "Back off? My friend, you don't pay me what I'm owed and I'll put it in drive. No more favors. No more of that kark. I can't keep doing this." A beat. "Alright...." Donale nodded and smiled, the gesture not reaching his eyes. He turned to walk away. "Nerf-herder. Wonder where there's a bar around here...."

 

[Anashja Tal]

Objective: See friends
Location: Farm celebration
Tags: Mig Gred Cynthia Solus

Equipment:
Beskar'gam, lightsabers, healing supplies, EF-M401e Rampage, Healing Blaster type A
Accompanied by:

• Jaron Tal - husband
• Ti'zan Tal - male togruta about 11 gsy
• Fel'ann Tal, Female tog 8 GSY
• Vercopa Tal, female tog 5 GSY
• Lana Tal, female tog 3 GSY

V and L are with their father

Anashja was looking to have a good time at this celebration and had brought her whole family. Her husband two youngest say playing together amongst hay bails, Vercopa being particularly interested in the livestock. Her eldest two were with her but Ti'zan was itching to go and play with some of the other boys who had set up a mock firing range and got their hands on an old slugthrower.

"Alor Cynthia, I had been meaning to catch up with you." she called over. "You look beautiful. You do know you can take all of the armour off right? Hey Mig, you and yours doing well too? I need to have a chat with you about a couple ships." she joked with Cynthia but the Alor knew all to well how much Anashja had been nagged to stop mandoing for a bit while pregnant by Alor Taozi. Mig was a friend, the pair had a lot in common with both of them putting themselves repeatedly through the wringer in the name of combat medical work.

"So which getting you most? For me, it was the sickness with Ti, the sickness and the back with Fel, then somehow the Maw with Copa and than back to good old sickness with Lana." she laughed and looked at Mig "You men do this too us and what thanks to we get?"

"I seem to recall you enjoying putting them in..." Her husband's voice shouted over teasing her, to which Anashja scowled lovingly. Turning back, she was about to say something else, but then, almost as if realising she was babbling a parsec a minute, she decided to let her friends speak.
​

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig was smiling as he listened to the music playing, but was soon surprised when he saw Cynthia Solus there. He smiled, quickly hugging her back, and soon being someone to quite literally lean on as she noted she was walking for three. "Su cuy'gar. And don't worry, I've done my share of lending a hand before. This House and twins, huh?" He said a bit sarcastically, before thinking on everything that had gone on. "Been going well. Been focusing on Souma and Illy's training, balancing a new mouth to feed, and all the usuals. I'll have to tell Aries, Fred, and Valtan you like the ships too. Probably spotted the Aranar on the way in."

He then saw Anashja Tal . She was a friend of his, and would soon smile as she spoke to him and Cynthia. She asked how they were both doing, and how their families were. Mig smiled, pointing up the stage. "Well, Leddie's enjoying herself, Tamar's with the boys, and.... Well she was supposed to be here.... At least the kid's comfortable here." He noted at the end. He honestly trusted his kids, and any he was watching, to be safe in the town. Surrounded by Clan and Fleet. One of the safest places to just explore honestly. Then he chuckled a bit as Ana asked the question, and Ti'zan's response from across the way a bit. He thought for a moment, looking at everything around.

"I mean at least for me keep a fleet ready to run to the next system at a moment's notice." He said a bit sarcastically.

 

[Vaux Gred]

Donale Monecado (Since he's looking for a bar)

Inside the Saldac Cantina, the Mandalorian pilot was, for once in a blue moon, out of her armor and relaxing with some Dawn Star Tihaar as she heard a couple of the rag-tag looking soldiers, a Mando Miraluka and a spacer Pantorian, trading 100% true stories about different missions they'd been on. The Pantorian was clearly trying to impress the bartender as she spoke up.

"And there I was, ten slavers ready to gut me, but I had my trusty particle shotgun ready to...."

"Hey. Didn't you say it was eight last week?" Vaux asked, smirking a bit at getting to annoy the Pantorian. "Pretty sure you Netherhounds are impressive enough without trying to overblow it." The soldier just eyed the Mando pilot, shaking her head.

"Oh and what you know about that fighter jokey." Vaux just laughed.

"Zaroi, we've been stationed together before. I've heard every version of your tales, and you don't even need them."

 

[Cynthia Solus]

"Yeah may be true, but thats your job. Could always make you deal with the reports too once these little ones come. Im sure Delphine and Rava would be relieved with that news." Cynthia chuckled after returning the sarcasm. "I am glad you are doing well, and —" The sound of her being called broke her words as she turned to see who it was. A face she had not seen longer than Migs was a delight. "Hey, thank you dear, If not for my beauty I'd never have gotten this far, and oh how I know I can take it off, but I feels wrong without my armor out and about."

"Also lets me communicate to everyone who's not her head." Ca spoke jokingly, notifying the AI's continuous presence.

"Hands down the back ache and my abdomen, my first children and blessed with twins, so I feel like i'm going through the wringer. Also the pressure on the cybernetics, that's unbelievably painful. So I try not to stand for more than an hour or two in one go. Hence me leaning on this grease kowakian monkey-lizard helps a smidge."

She would snicker at the joke and response between Anashja and her Ridur. "Speak for yourself, Anashja, I only play with the lady's." Both her and Ca would laugh some. As she did her hands would reach for the hovering holoprojector and let it loose.

The AI would display herself from the projector, and almost a splitting image of Cynthia would appear the main difference was Ca currently appeared with super long hair. "Hey mig, never mind running away in your fleet at a moments notice, I know you make AI, so when will you make me a hunky AI?" Ca asked jokingly and not even intending an answer, but simply enjoying the atmosphere.

Tags - Mig Gred | Anashja Tal

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig chuckled at Cynthia's response, nodding a bit. He would continue to laugh along with the conversation, and give Leddie a thumbs up, for her playing. He'd then hear Ca though, joking a bit about making her a "Hunky AI." He laughed before speaking up.

"What? Cuyan and Cabur getting on your nerves lately?" He jokingly asked, referring to the AI aboard the Solus capitals. He then looked around a bit. "There are also probable a couple dozen AI around the comms systems and holoprojectors. Can't guarantee hunky, but...." He noted, just in case the AI wanted to know.

Cynthia Solus Anashja Tal

 

[Zefgahld Qojex]

Mig Gred Cynthia Solus Donale Monecado Anashja Tal Vaux Gred
Taanab was the last place Zef thought she would ever end up.

While it was located in the Inner Rim, the Amaran was a city-dweller at heart, Coruscanti that she was, and, over the past four days, the Vulpinoid thought she was beginning to develop a fear of the bizarre alien fauna that these farmers allowed to roam freely - freely! - about the town! The unlucky urbanite had tripped and fallen over a passed-out Dug and fallen face-first into what she suspected came from the business end of a Roba naught but six standard hours ago; the laughter of the locals had been bad enough, but she had lost nearly a half hour trying to wash the filth from her hoodie in a nearby river, and hastily, at that! Just when she had gotten information on her target's whereabouts at last!

Talk about bad luck! Couldn't the Force favor her just ONCE?

Fighting back the irrationality of the growing fear that she might end up losing her target's trail, the disguised Amaran ran a clawed finger over a dyed wrist - her fur shimmered in the town's artificial lighting, cast from various source's due to the evening's festivities, pale tan, rather then her natural gray. Leaning casually against the duracrete of the corner of a shipyard's assembly plant and stretching an arm, the Amaran yawned as she did her best to appear as a casual party-goer.

The lithe she-fox scratched at the dyed brown adorning her flat underbelly, fixed her contact-colored "purple" eyes at her quarry, and shifted away from the wall as she approached him casually, slowly and purposefully, one tan hand drawing up the black hood of her exotic Nerf-leather black hoodie over her head of - dyed - midnight black hair, a stray lock falling over her silver-laden, goggle-clad eyes, the implement giving the young woman a strange, insectoid appearance as the approached an eccentric, ghoul-faced, perpetually-frowning Givin man, vastly out-of-place in this rural Inner Rim world, and looking none-too-comfortable out here in the Sticks.

Working the charm of her assumed role as a local University Student, the petite, toned and boyish girl worked what curves she possessed as she made her way through the crowd, passing a raucously laughing band of black, yellow and red-orange Wookiees, respectively, her demure, athletic feminine little hips sensuously swaying to and fro as she made her way towards bandstand, the tan, brown-tipped flag of her well-groomed tail shifting to and fro behind her form-fitting, hole-strewn, loose-legged breeches, the dyed fur along her legs visible with every shoosh-ing motion.

Smiling at the Givin, the grin left-sided and toothy, revealing false braces adorning faintly yellow predator's teeth, the Amaran raised a hand in greeting as she passed Mig Gred Cynthia Solus and Anashja Tal while one hand shifted into her hoodie's pocket, grasping at the handle of a hidden stun baton...

"Professor Malgiw!" A lisping, eager voice assailed the Givin's disgusting external-skeletal auditory holes, startling him more then anything, "You appear to be enjoying the festivities!" The goggle-eyed "student slipped both hands into her hoodie, trying to appear as casual as possible, clueless as to the man's nervous disposition and trembling, bony frame.

"Say, can I take a moment to ask you about the end of the Archaeology quiz we did two days ago? I had some further queries about the ancient history of the War of Storms, or Clones, or WHATEVER IT WAS..." The seemingly dim-witted Vulpinoid gave the man a toothy grin, braces glinting as she shouted merrily and stupidly, perhaps louder then she should have, just off to the side of Mig Gred and his companions.

The Givin, huffing in frustration as his mouth contorted into even more of a grimace of distaste, if that were possible, focused a baleful gaze on the lanky Amaran accosting him, his face shifting back down towards a wrist-mounted computer, exotic fingers dancing over the keys. "Be quick! And you are? Which class period?"

The Givin took a step back, his odd nostrils flaring as he recoiled, "YOU STINK! Hurry, dammit!" His sunken eyes narrowed, even as a small hologram emerged from the device on his wrist, a display that read out names flashing to life with a faint violet light between them.

"FALO LOFFKEQ..." the annoying, slobber-spewing, lisping voice rasped into the evening's air...