Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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No blasters! No blasters!

The dossiers, in the end, had been whittled down to three, and she couldn't say why any more than she could say why she'd gotten to digging through Dad's files -- and Aunt Rave's.

[member="Kale Arkin"] - rogue Jedi apprentice. A wanderer, like the rest, and a top-notch pilot and mechanic. Rumors of a bloody confrontation with pirates, which meant something to a Warden.

[member="Kaia Starchaser"] - the last name said it all. Mara might not have had much use for Kaia's father, but he'd proven his worth when faced with an impossible choice, and anyway all the Levantine kids said Kaia was worth knowing. And if she had anything like Coren's talent, she'd be ideal.

[member="Marselia Urstalis"] - former Fringer, healer, apparently dissatisfied with how her old teacher had approached that paradox. Marselia's recommendation came courtesy of Rave's files, but her aunt had declined to quantify her interest.

Each of them had been involved in something that had gotten them on the Merrill radar in a positive way. Now they were on Mara's.

***​
You and two others are receiving this note. You've all been pegged as the kind of people that might be willing to commit to something of worth. It takes spacers, Force-sensitives who don't fit the mold. People that don't have much patience for pirates or raiders or holier-than-thou types.

There's a job that needs doing and you may be the only ones that can do it. Meet each other on Point Nadir, at Fische's Pub in The Slips, and wear something purple to recognize each other. You'll be contacted. There's lives at stake, a lot of them.

Oh, and come unarmed. Where you're going, blasters will just get you killed. That goes double for lightsabres.
 
She and her father might not always see eye to eye, he was a bit more… violent than she ever hoped to be. He took the galaxy for what it was and didn’t try to change it. He worked to fix it, sure, but he did so in his own fashion, and that meant respecting the Outer Rim code, but also adapting it to how the Unknown Regions were. She had sat in on his class and was kind of pleased with how he held himself. He knew what it was to be a spacer but he also knew that he used the Dark Side, and that latter bit? It didn’t flow into his class. That was nice.

Maybe she and her father weren’t all that different? They both were skilled pilots, skilled in the Force, and excellent finders Sure Kaia was a Hufflepuff instinctive astrogators, but so was Jared. It was the family business, of sorts. But after that class? She had sat herself down and got into a simulator. She was flying an advanced TIE model, compliments of the code she stole off her father to fly a ship she knew, and was taking it through the paces. These sims were great.

After getting the steam out, for her it was sims, for others? It was punching bags, she made her way back to her room. And that was when she got the message. What was this? She knew she ran into a strange being in the galaxy recently, on a trip back from her pilgrimage to Corellia, which yielded some bloodsteel, and part was made into a pair of matching knives, one for Jared and one for her. It was nice, and she kept it tucked in her boot. Seeing she needed to be elsewhere though, she made a note on her calendar to get her work done, taking some of it with her, and transmitted out to her professors. They’d understand, right?
Space was calling.

Purple? She had purple hair dye. So, well, she did that, added some purple streaks to her black hair. She was that girl sometimes, and had a purple tanktop under her olive drab jacket. Boots and her denim pants filled her outfit out as she took her datapad, in its bag and made her way to the hangar where her ship was.

[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]
[member="Kale Arkin"]
[member="Marselia Urstalis"]
 
Thank the Force for good clients. Two years ago I'd have had to dock the Star Spinner in the Tethers, but after selling the gems I'd gotten from Valkyria, I had a few creds to my name. It was hardly a drop in the bucket to pay for docking in the Slips. Arnine Teenine complained of course, beeping and whirring about dipping into his modification funds, but he was always complaining.

Then the little shavit had gone and badmouthed my new purple duds. That meant war.

I took out his repulsorlifts for that, and gave him a pink spray job to boot. And I changed the codes to his workship. See if the bucket of bolts insulted my clothes then. I looked damned good in my purple shirt and boots. Of course, I felt naked without my blaster on my hip, or the little back-up I kept in my vest pocket. Teenine had hid my lightsaber a week ago, so I didn't have that either.

According to the message though, I wouldn't need a weapon at all.

Fishce's Pub wasn't so different from other cantinas on other shadowparts. It had walls and a roof, the obligatory bar, and a thick haze hung in the air, wafting smoke from all sorts of spices. There was a Pa'lowick crooning on stage, accompanied by a modest band. The room stank of Hutt. Like I said, not so different from other cantinas on other shadowports.

"Oto du yocola," I told the Gand bartender as I plopped down in a stool at the bar. I liked Gands. They were all around nice folks, polite and respectful, and pretty good bartenders, considering. "Hotsa an meesku." He handed me a glass of a luminescent beverage that I hoped was filled with something sweet and spicy and not radioactive. I took a sip, tasted sugar on my tongue, and felt warmth spread to my ears. "Grancha!" I dipped my head and raised the glass.

The Gand returned the gesture, and moved on.

There was no word for thank you in Hutteese. Great and a head nod sufficed, though. I spun around in the chair and cast my eyes across the pub. Hopefully I wouldn't be the only boob sitting around in purple...

Even if I did look frakking fantastic in it.


[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Kaia Starchaser"] [member="Marselia Urstalis"]
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Kaia Starchaser"] [member="Kale Arkin"] [member="Marselia Urstalis"]

A mobile wall, composed largely of Rattataki muscle, loomed into the bar. That, at least, was the impression that Balke knew he gave off, and it suited him. He didn't know how to dampen his Force presence -- Dark Side, with a hint of lemon -- and wouldn't have used it if he did, any more than he used a hood or a mask. Some kinds of anonymity just weren't worth the hassle.

On the other hand, that meant he had to pay attention, keep his guard up. So when the back of his neck prickled, he stopped and drew a deep breath, in through the nose. He smelled...

Jedi, or close enough. And maybe a decent lightsabre among them.

Cracking massive knuckles, he scanned the room, eyes pausing only briefly on those marked by purple. The commonality of color didn't escape him -- some kind of Light Side Force-using gang? Stranger things had happened.

With a sardonic two-fingered wave, he headed for the bar.
 

Marselia Urstalis

Guest
M
So, [member="Kaia Starchaser"] wasn't the only one from the LAA wearing purple, as she'd find out when her sister-in-law came breezing through the hangar where they'd both taken to parking, wearing a pair of snug purple trousers in her repertoire and carrying a small satchel whose contents included a 'pad with her own assignments. Most had been done ahead of time and the rest only needed a little more attention before transmission. Her schedule was effectively cleared as she made her way to her own ship, only to be stopped by the sight of Jared's sister sporting purple in her hair. She slipped alongside the younger girl, shooting her a sly grin.

"That's one way of doing it," she said, gesturing to the 'do, "Purple in my hair would be atrocious, though."

She'd never be completely separated from her upbringing - appearances did matter where there was time for them to matter was the way the phrase came in, nowadays.

"Do you think there'll be anyone else?"

[member="Kale Arkin"] | [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]
 

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