Corvus Raaf
Adieu...

Corvus looked at the invitation for the fiftieth time. I mean, who sends invitations on paper any more?
Then she read it for the twentieth time:
You are cordially invited to Ta’a Chume ‘Dan to represent the Galactic Republic at a charity dinner
This is a formal dress occasion
Drinks will be served on arrival and fireworks are planned (weather permitting) following the last dance
And scribbled on the corner in handwriting that looked suspiciously like the Grandmaster’s it simply read ‘Corvus.’ Perhaps there was another Corvus this was due for? OK, perhaps not.
But a formal dinner? Really? Corvus smoothed the hem of her robes with her palms. That means talking to people. And she’d already found out none of her usual companions were attending. She had hoped for some sympathy. Instead she suspected they all found it rather funny – but not to her face thank goodness.
I mean, formal dress? Jedi didn’t possess dress robes and she literally had nothing else to wear. She considered her Jedi Shadow robes – but wearing them in public kind of defeated the issue. And dancing? Was this compulsory?
So she reluctantly packed her bag and headed to the hangar. It seems someone from the Navy was also invited and was picking her up. She had no idea how the others were going to make their way there. In fact she had no idea how many ‘others’ there were.
So, looking around hopefully she checked with an engineer which ship was prepped for take-off to Hapes and she walked as confidently as she could in its direction.
[member="Gir Quee"] | [member="Megàn Alestria"] | [member="Catherine Maxwell"]