Ra'a'mah
Baroness
The lunch crowd had already thinned by the time Ra'a'mah finally admitted that caf was not an adequate substitute for food. Her morning business in Theed had lasted longer than expected, stretching well beyond the appointment she'd originally set aside for it, and she'd emerged into the early afternoon with several agreements settled, two more matters requiring attention later in the week, and absolutely no desire to look at another contract until tomorrow. Fortunately, one advantage of conducting business close to home was that she knew precisely where to go afterward.
The restaurant sat along the edge of one of the city's open markets, its tables spilling beyond the covered portion of the establishment into the pleasant Naboo afternoon. Ra had claimed one outside, setting her datapad beside her rather than leaving it in her bag, although the darkened screen suggested she'd lost interest in whatever remained on it. Her clothing suited the meetings she'd attended that morning: tailored dark trousers, a fitted blouse beneath a well-cut jacket, and practical shoes chosen by someone who had learned long ago that expensive didn't necessarily have to mean uncomfortable. Nothing about her attire announced the Baroness she technically was, and certainly nothing suggested the considerably stranger occupations scattered throughout her past. Today, she looked exactly like what she had become over the years. A successful businesswoman enjoying a late meal after a long morning.
Her choice of food wasn't particularly sophisticated either. Eggs, toast, and caf had sounded considerably more appealing than the remnants of the lunch menu, and Ra saw little reason to let the hour dictate what she was allowed to eat. She broke a corner from one piece of toast and used it to catch some of the yolk before taking a bite, her attention wandering toward the market beyond her table. The worst of the midday congestion had passed, but the walkways remained comfortably busy. Merchants tended their stalls while shoppers drifted between them, some with obvious purpose and others apparently content to see what caught their attention. Snatches of conversation occasionally carried toward the restaurant before disappearing again beneath the ordinary murmur of the city.
Ra watched without particularly meaning to. People were interesting, and old habits had long since blurred into the ordinary. She noticed faces, movement, changes in the rhythm around her, but there was no tension behind the observation and no expectation that anything required her attention. Naboo was home. For once, there was no crisis waiting at the end of the afternoon, no Protectorate meeting she needed to hurry toward, and no shipment threatening to become her personal problem because somebody had misplaced three digits on a customs declaration.
She took another drink of caf and glanced toward the neglected datapad beside her. "No," Ra murmured to it with quiet finality before reaching for another piece of toast instead.
Whatever remained on her schedule could wait until she'd finished eating.
Cassian Abrantes
The restaurant sat along the edge of one of the city's open markets, its tables spilling beyond the covered portion of the establishment into the pleasant Naboo afternoon. Ra had claimed one outside, setting her datapad beside her rather than leaving it in her bag, although the darkened screen suggested she'd lost interest in whatever remained on it. Her clothing suited the meetings she'd attended that morning: tailored dark trousers, a fitted blouse beneath a well-cut jacket, and practical shoes chosen by someone who had learned long ago that expensive didn't necessarily have to mean uncomfortable. Nothing about her attire announced the Baroness she technically was, and certainly nothing suggested the considerably stranger occupations scattered throughout her past. Today, she looked exactly like what she had become over the years. A successful businesswoman enjoying a late meal after a long morning.
Her choice of food wasn't particularly sophisticated either. Eggs, toast, and caf had sounded considerably more appealing than the remnants of the lunch menu, and Ra saw little reason to let the hour dictate what she was allowed to eat. She broke a corner from one piece of toast and used it to catch some of the yolk before taking a bite, her attention wandering toward the market beyond her table. The worst of the midday congestion had passed, but the walkways remained comfortably busy. Merchants tended their stalls while shoppers drifted between them, some with obvious purpose and others apparently content to see what caught their attention. Snatches of conversation occasionally carried toward the restaurant before disappearing again beneath the ordinary murmur of the city.
Ra watched without particularly meaning to. People were interesting, and old habits had long since blurred into the ordinary. She noticed faces, movement, changes in the rhythm around her, but there was no tension behind the observation and no expectation that anything required her attention. Naboo was home. For once, there was no crisis waiting at the end of the afternoon, no Protectorate meeting she needed to hurry toward, and no shipment threatening to become her personal problem because somebody had misplaced three digits on a customs declaration.
She took another drink of caf and glanced toward the neglected datapad beside her. "No," Ra murmured to it with quiet finality before reaching for another piece of toast instead.
Whatever remained on her schedule could wait until she'd finished eating.
Cassian Abrantes