Private Hazard Pay

[Joa Sodi]

HAZARD PAY
Theed, Naboo

Ultralight material padded Senator Sodi’s footfalls as she made her way through the halls of the Senate building. She preferred soft leather and comfortable soles to the sharp click-clack of heels. Flats did little to aid her stature, but height very rarely equaled political acuity in her experience. Besides that, her meeting was of an unofficial nature. Comfort was warranted.

Word spread fast about the bankers from Hutt Space—even faster, reports of Aurelian’s injuries during the blockade that gripped Wielu. Thank the Stone he survived without any major complications to speak of, but he might not be so lucky next time. And mark her words, there would certainly be a next time. Bullies and criminals rarely stop at the first sign of resistance. In fact, Aurelian’s survival might prompt an even fiercer attack in the future. Joa knew firsthand how bitter and longstanding the desire for revenge could be.

The Kage suffered terribly at the hands of the angry and vengeful Belugans. Even today, though peace had been won and life had moved on, the bitterness of spite and unsettled grudges still haunted the halls of Quarzite’s subterranean cities.

There were many lessons to be learned and lectures she could deliver, but Aurelian—hardened as he was on the outside—needed a softer touch. He’d likely spent hours debriefing with the RIS, fielding questions from hungry Herald reporters, and putting out invisible Royal fires within Naboo’s legislative body. Joa thought he could use a friend for a change.

She arrived at the door to his offices much faster than her wandering mind realized; the briefcase in her hand thudded against the polished wood, which he would surely notice. If somehow he missed it, the soft giggle of a woman amused by her own distracted state would certainly get his attention. But should he ignore her boisterous arrival still, she’d resort to a simple knock.

That was how most decent senators announced their arrival, after all.

Tags: Aurelian Veruna​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

X | X​

Aurelian sank deep into the office couch cushions, one arm draped lazily over the back, the other holding a half-drained glass of whiskey. Outside the wide window, Theed's night life blurred. His body still ached from Wielu, despite the physicians' assurances that the worst had passed. He doubted they truly understood that some wounds weren't visible.

The days since had been merciless. Briefings, endless questions, and strategy sessions, with every admiral, aide, and opportunist demanding his time as though he hadn't nearly died on a blasted tourist planet. His office had become a revolving door, a constant stream of voices feeding the relentless hunger of politics and conflict. He hadn't left much, nor slept much. The whiskey was his sole rebellion, a small act of defiance against the constant grind.

He set the glass down on the low table, leaned his head back, and let his eyes fall shut, just for a moment. The silence pressed in, the kind that often pulled him into half-dreams of flashing lightsabers and the sting of it too close to his ribs. Then came a sharp, solid thump at the door. His eyes shot open, heart kicking as if he'd been caught again on Wielu again. For a moment, he thought it a trick of his restless mind, but the clear, polite rhythm of a knock repeated.

Aurelian exhaled sharply, a sound caught between annoyance and resignation. "Come in," he called, his voice carrying that effortless nobility which never seemed to tire, even when he did.

The door opened, and to his mild surprise, it wasn't another aide or commander waiting with datapads stacked to the ceiling. It was Senator Sodi.

He offered a dangerous smile with practiced ease. "Joa," he said, warmth threading through the syllables. "What a pleasant surprise." His gaze flicked to the briefcase she carried, an amused glint sparking in his eyes. "I do hope you haven't brought me more work."

Joa Sodi​

 

[Joa Sodi]

HAZARD PAY
Theed, Naboo

“Aurelian,” she said. The soft inflection she spoke with made the name double as an unspoken greeting. She followed his eyes to the briefcase and gave it a jostle, snickering a bit at the thought of piling paperwork on the senator.

She did have a half-dozen drafts living on a datapad in her office, but that’s not what she came here for. Perhaps next time.

“Oh, only a little work,” she admitted playfully. “But I’ll be doing most of it. I want to talk, though, if you’re up to it?”

She stepped closer to where Aurelian was draped over the couch like a worn blanket. From the way he nursed a whiskey glass to the tender movements he made to avoid feeling the soreness, Joa could tell he wasn’t at his best. Hopefully her little gift would help him relax a little.

The briefcase came up to the coffee table between the chair Joa had taken and Aurelian. If he tried to sit upright or stand, she’d hold a hand up to halt him. She unclipped the aruodium latches on the case and opened it gingerly. One would have expected datapads, a holoprojector, maybe even a comlink—all the tools of an active senator like Joa, who was known for working on her colleagues’ coffee tables more than her own desk.

But that was not what lay inside at all. Instead, Aurelian would see an ornate teapot with matching cups and saucers. It appeared to be blown from some kind of volcanic glass that gave it a soft aubergine color, save for a crack running along its surface—a crack that had been mended by a vein of aurodium. Also in the briefcase, affixed to the inner lid by small leather loops, were several glass vials. They contained what appeared to be a variety of dried herbs, flowers, and even powdered minerals that had an opalescent hue.

Without any real explanation of what she was making, Joa set up a small heater and placed the pot atop it. She filled it with a flask of water, all the while making small conversation. “The leaves are changing,” she said, nodding to the large window. “I love Theed in fall. The trees turn orange and say goodbye to their chlorophyll.”

She smiled. “The seasons change much less spectacularly on Quarzite. I know that many would prefer to look at gems and stone formations than orange leaves drifting on the city street, but when they realize the caves do not change when the seasons do, I imagine they wish to come back home.”

It didn’t take long for the water to reach a boiling point, and when it did, Joa began filling a pair of small woven pouches with pinches of various herbs and spices. She gave him a small, almost mischievous smirk as she pinched the opal dust and dropped it in. Then she pulled the drawstrings tight and let both pouches fall into the teapot. She closed the lid and turned to face her colleague—friend?—properly.

“Can I ask you something, Aurelian?” Her voice was calm and measured, but her tone was a bit flatter than her usual cadence. That melodic Kage accent sounded odd under the pressure of serious conversation.

Tags: Aurelian Veruna​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

X | X​

Aurelian watched her sweep in, all quick words and quicker hands. The room seemed to belong to her the moment she crossed the threshold. He wasn't sure how to entirely take Joa, possessing the kind of presence that could set a man at ease and unsettle him in the same breath.

His gaze drifted toward the window as she spoke of Theed's leaves turning. Aurelian realized, that he hadn't noticed the change at all. Perhaps that was the curse of being born on Naboo, you took the little beauties for granted, assuming they'd always be there. The way she described it almost made him want to look again. Yet he found himself more intrigued by her mention of Quarzite's unchanging caverns, of gem and stone formations untouched by time. He imagined he wouldn't mind seeing that, if only to know what eternal felt like.

His eyes slid back toward her little ritual, sharp with curiosity, though edged with suspicion. She unlatched the case with the same deliberate confidence she showed in debate, revealing a teapot fit for a museum, instead of datapads. Aurelian leaned forward slightly. He watched her measure powders and herbs like a practiced alchemist, dropping iridescent dust into the mix with a smirk that matched his own. He arched a brow, skeptical.

He certainly hadn't forgotten surviving a Sith attempt to gut him like a fish. A thought flickered, a brief but present worry, that perhaps she was on some shadow payroll, sent to finish what others had failed. But no. That would be too simple, too unimaginative. She was a friend. Wasn't she?

When she asked her question, his eyes narrowed with interest, not hostility. He let the silence hang just long enough to measure the weight of her tone.

Finally, he let a smile slip across his face, both dangerous and amused. "You may," his voice smooth, though the faintest thread of intrigue wound through it. "Though with all this theater," he gestured loosely toward the glowing pot, the dust, and the steam beginning to rise, "you've got me expecting something more than small talk."

Joa Sodi​