Operation ORCmass - Dominion of hex M-52

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Fiolette Yvarro"]

"Passing through, eh. Y'know, your name came up linked to a shipbuilding firm I don't know much about. Passing through wouldn't have anything to do with business, would it?"

He leaned forward and pitched his voice lower. "Between you and me, this end of space could use some more connections with people who know their way around ship design. Would it be, how do I put this, beneath your dignity to do some consulting work? There's plenty of worlds out here that rely on local builds and major yards' leftovers. My crew and I make bank modding ships out here. I couldn't even speculate on how well you could do."

All things considered, this was probably the approach that would net ORC the most benefit in the long run. Moral high ground, no arm twisting, confluence of interests, building connections, and no requests for secrets.

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

To be perfectly frank. He wouldn't up until now Primo Victorian Shipwright had been the First Order's own exclusive shipwright. Designing and then eventually manufacturing some of the finer ships in the fleet. But part of her knew that the Jorus had the information on her before she walked in the door. Being at a disadvantage was starting to become an all too familiar feeling. "Beneath my dignity is not the way I would describe it, but certainly there is a certain." She paused a moment reflected on her choice of words. "Well there is a certain something to these parts, but I'm not necessarily here to turn a profit."

She then pushed aside her drink, having now left only a third in the glass.

"I'm more or less just having a look, seeing what's beyond the borders."

Fiolette had heard of Jorus Merrill although not as a shipwright manufacturer, no that came later she had heard of him. While his name in particular never crossed her desk scuttlebutt and meetings with various groups while in service to one empire or another. His company, on the other hand, she had seen, read and watched. "I must say I've certainly heard a bit about yours although, you'll forgive me if I hadn't given it a second look before."

The blonde moved a hand through her hair again, business on Kwenn Station had gone rather well. Exceedingly if she were to admit the truth of the negotiations or rather how they were conducted. "I'm on my way back from Kwenn Station, actually." Seeing what all and who all was out there she'd worked for the First Order for so long that the term 'competition' hadn't been there in a business sense. Fiolette was deliberate in letting the man know about Kwenn. What she did not tell him was that she had closed a deal on Naboo securing House Verd Hangar and Armory. So now her company had their hands on Mandalorian designs, something she was eager to test with a new product for her Kwenn Station clientele. "But." A small pause as she considered her words, "I appreciate the suggestion and I may come back through here at a later date."

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Noah Corek]

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

Noah sighed as he took his tumbler and brought it to his lips making sure to take a nice swig of his drink. Corellian Brandy, one of his favorites. Noah looked around the bar at the other people there. Smirking Noah thought back to when he had ran guns for the Underground for years before it had evolved into this 'Outer Rim Coalition'. Technically considering the amount of HK weapons that were still on the market and supplied to resistance cells around the galaxy he still was running guns for the Underground.

But now here he sat, incognito, his cloak's hood pulled over his head, tumbler in one hand and the other gripping his revolver strapped to his thigh. Because as they say old habits die hard.

 

[Sanya Val Lerium]

♡[member="Ayhia Katar"] ※ [member="Davin Skirata"] ※ [member="Vaudin Miir"] ※ [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] ※ [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] ※ [member="Janick Beauchamp"] ※ [member="Bryce Bantam"] ※ [member="Joza Perl"] ※ [member="Hylocereus"] ※ [member="Jorus Merrill"] ※ [member="3X744"] [member="Noah Corek"]

Sanya looked at the young man who approached her and thanked her. The guy looked young but she wasn't going to question it. "Ehh you are welcome. After all I like to watch people enjoy their selves. It is a time of year where people everywhere comes together and well been grateful for what we have." She said with a warming tone as she took her glass of Double-dip Outer Rim Rumdrop and walked away from the bar that was beginning to become crowded fast. Everyone looked happy and having a good time yet she herself still felt nervous. Things may have been going well but she'd yet to see Ayhia.

Bryce of course made an entrance that made Sanya shake her head. Although she was glad to see the man had a companion with him. As she thought about it Sanya still didn't really know these people all to well. Not on a personal level that is. The woman took as sip of her drink as she slowly weaved through the crowd of people. Her eyes caught the attention of someone purposing but didn't pay all to much notice. It just made her smile as she made her way out of the bar area. To walk the halls for a moment. Her hand tapped onto the com contacting the central command. "How we doing on capacity?" Sanya asked knowingly they'd be almost packed. "We are getting close. Security are running overtime with keeping on top and we a planning now how to manage shift changes." The masculine voice said over the com's. "Is there is anything I can do to help?"

"Yes, if you could can you maybe take off Déna for her dinner brake?" He'd ask with confidence in his voice. "Sure I can." Sanya said in reply and closing the com. The woman walked back into the room and went straight up to the bar as she downed her drink. She had just one and yet it made her feel tipsy. "Another double dip outer rim drop and tell Déna to head for her dinner. I'll be taking over for her till she's had her brake." "Coming up. Have you ever mixed drinks before?" "Not really no. I can deal with the taps if you'd like." She said watching the mandalorian fill his helmet. "That will have to do for now."

Sanya walked behind the bar and went straight to work taking her first series of orders from the punters. As she made her way across taking orders and serving she'd reach [member="Davin Skirata"] who she saw drinking Buy'ce out of his helmet. It was a moment of quietness now the wave of punters had their drinks and drinks for their friends to. She took back a big gulp of her own drink before leaning onto the bar looking at the mando. "You know hun we do have mandalorian beverages too. We just don't keep them out front. All ya have to do is ask. Actually you'll have a hard time finding a drink we don't."

 

[Hylocereus]

[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

Hylo stood his goofy grin becoming a goofy smile. The flower on his head budded and he smiled looking at Mara. "We'll need to pick patterns." He wasn't exactly sure what that meant but one time a man had some to the shelter on coruscant and complained about how his wife had worried about patterns therefore it was important to women. "Whatever you want..."

What else had the married men complained about. Oh name changes. That was a thing. Impatiently his foot was practically stomping as he looked Mara in the eyes. "And I can take your name if you want...." plans had to be made, and decisions! Oh the decisions! Hylo would give Mara whatever it didn't matter to him, nothing mattered except her in this moment. "We're getting married. We're really getting married...."

And then Hylo gulped. He was getting married. Not only that but Mara wanted to make something new... did that mean... babies? His eyes widened as he didn't freak out over that thought. Strange, so very strange.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Fiolette Yvarro"]

"Kwenn Station's one of the best places I could name for an independent shipwright. Good connections to our turf, places like Kal'Shebbol and Ceto and even this station." He grinned, surprising himself. "Heck, maybe I'll wind up modding one of your boats for a customer. That's my business - aftermarket tweaks and rebuilds. Some design consulting on the side, collaborations with shipbuilders whose work I like. It's a decent living, independent shipwright work. I find it a lot more satisfying than I ever found commanding fleets."

He imagined she'd read his dossier like he'd read hers. The First Order would certainly know he'd made full Captain in the Omega Defense Force, more heavily decorated than anyone but Sio Kerrigan or Sarge Potteiger; that he'd commanded the largest warship in the galaxy and its escorts at the Battle of Druckenwell; and that he'd led Rebel Alliance and Underground fleet actions against the Lords of the Fringe, including the decisive Second Battle of Taloraan. Taloraan - now there was a memory he tended to repress. Not much satisfaction to be found in firing exotic weapons through a fleet's shields, to cripple their repulsors and sentence them to crushing death in a gas giant's core. Not much satisfaction at all. On paper, though, it was the kind of thing that would probably appear on his dossier - along with a dozen convictions for smuggling and comparable offenses.

"It's a more honest kind of life, I guess is what I'm saying. You wind up feeling you make more of a difference building than destroying - even when destroyers are what you build."

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

Fiolette brushed loose strands of blonde hair from her face and kept her eyes on Jorus. She did know just as much as his file let on but hadn't pried beyond that. "Perhaps in the future you may find yourself doing so, but at the moment?" A devil like curve to her features - unless some foolhardy idiot managed to survive a raid within the First Order. There would be no one modifiying any of her work, they would either be dead, captured and/or tortured. In the end that person would disappear completely and the First Order would think nothing of it. "I see."

The two words fluttered out for acknowledgment but nothing more.

"The transition has been interesting," she admitted and ran her tongue on the inside of her lower lip where her most recent business partner left a rather interesting scar. The memory of it brought a twinkle to her eye but she batted it away and focused on the conversation at hand. "And it's good to know that work with Kwenn will trickle down." In one way or another, yes.

As far as statisifaction went.

"I've spent a lifetime in the Navy, Jorus. Barking orders, taking orders and watching life and death come and go as it pleases." A beat as she looked over at the nog and rum and debated finishing it. Her attention returned to the man across from her. Azure eyes once more locked on, piercing everything in their wake. "I've seen the arrogance of the Atrisian Empire, the complanency of the One Sith and..." Fiolette's voice trailed she didn't want to add the last bit but she was already committed. "The zealots of the First Order, this galaxy has changed more hands in the name governance, control and power than you or I can ever quite guess."

Her point was, "fulfillment is what we make of it, but I suppose there may be something to say for independence. Balance knows it's been far too long since I've been on my own."

"Decades really," she brought a curved set of slender fingers to her lips in thought.

His voice punctured her thoughts. Another kind of smile formed upon her features, "you know, I'll have to confess. I've not really done Star Destroyers, in fact I'll tell you a story. Don't worry it's not long at all, you see." Fiolette paused a moment to ensure she had his attention. "Primo Victorian wasn't always mine in fact it was owned by Valessia Brentioch the former Minister of Foreign Affairs. She bought it and laid down the foundations of what would be the First Order's first line of ships. She came from a luxury liner family and had some understanding of how ships worked."

"When she sold it to me, she asked that I never build a Star Destroyer. There were plenty of them when she first arrived and it seemed that thats where most kept their attention. Rather, she asked, no told me - that I should keep my focus on the smaller ships." Fiolette gave a smile as she reached for the nog and rum and finished it in two shots. Setting the now empty glass down, "and so I've kept my word."

"Just a side note, I suppose. Not many know that story, but I am interested in building rather than destroying. Even if the work that I've done until now has resulted in the destruction of many."

And if, you don't love me now
You will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain (Never break the chain)​

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Fiolette Yvarro"]

"Now that," he said, "explains a lot. I don't mind telling you that you used to give Alliance analysts hives, from what I hear. Every couple of months they'd spot a new frigate or corvette that was clearly made for something specific. Then Rausgeber or some other numbskull would field a dozen dreadnoughts and words like 'cognitive dissonance' started getting thrown around."

His good humor faded somewhat.

"I've run into my share of zealots too. It's one reason I made this region my home, and why I don't mind, say, skipping a tariff on cargo through Alliance space. Got too little taste for arbitrary rules, and too many friends who'd wind up in lava cells if the Alliance came knocking. It's probably no surprise to you that, if we didn't have the First Order right next door, we wouldn't be nearly so friendly with the Alliance. Law and order has its place, right? Heck, it's why I left the Jedi - well, that and one too many atrocities by the burlap brigade." Metalorn, Ahto City, Nar Shaddaa, now that Wall of Light insanity from the Silvers...bad days, one and all.

He dragged himself out of a borderline reverie and refocused on Yvarro. "Far as I can tell, Fiolette, it's gotten real tough to find a cause worth believing in. That's why so many independents live and work out here, and why we built the place the way we did."

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

Fiolette laughed probably a little more than she should have. "Rausgeber." His name left her lips and the twinkle in her eyes had gone as well. "Eccentric." The one word she used to describe him, "his work with ships was good, I'll give him that but." But that was all she hid her smile beneath a second round of rum, straight this time. "But it pleases me to hear that I had them scrambling about."

As Jorus talked she drank, she heard the humor in his voice fade. By now the rewashed air of the station didn't drag her nostrils into Chaos. No, by now the rum had more than warmed the back of her throat and her head felt a little better for it. She figured this was his selling point but she let him on with what he had. A softer set of eyes looked at him now, "well I'm not one to completely live out in the boons. While this station is not without its..." Her voice trailed as she got a look around at the clientele and then the shotglass in her hand. "Charms."

"Even so, I fully expect a thorough bleaching upon my reentry into First Order space." Mostly, she gathered as she ran her tongue over the scar again, to ensure she didn't bring any radical ideals with her. Zealots, Balance the galaxy was certainly filled with them in one shape or another. "But I can understand the ideal here, the draw and thus far I've found the freedom to be well, liberating as they say." She pressed the shot of rum to her lips, "and if my niece weren't the Grand Moff, then I too would find my way into skipping tariffs, inspections and other such regulatory routines."

Fiolette pushed the amber liquid down her throat and set the glass back on the table. The 'Burlap' Brigade the mere title made her chuckle again, "well to be quite honest I've not been fond of force users, no offense, it always feels like someone's been given an advantage that they hadn't quite earned." She said speaking as a non-force user and her tone hardened a bit, the Cosmic Balance deemed force users as those who would bring Chaos and unbalance to the galaxy and thus far it hadn't been wrong. "And as for friends in lava cells, I've known a few."

Once more the rum warmed her throat, her eyes went distant, "between the fall of the Atrisian Empire and the One Sith... yeah, I've known a few." A sense of loss in her voice, one that she pushed aside and nodded in agreement with Jorus. "Causes come and go, just like the nations, just like the rise and fall of both Jedi and Sith." She shifted her weight in the booth and tugged at her overcoat and realized she'd been wearing it the whole time and decided not to bother with it now. She had run the gamut of military work, dedicated her life to a cause; the Imperial cause. It hadn't exactly turned out the way she planned and somehow she couldn't tell if it had all been worth it or not. "It is better, I think, to do for oneself and make yourself happy. A lesson that I've only just now started to realize, sixty six years late."

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

[member="Hylocereus"]

She almost, almost, asked whether the man taking the woman's name was a Sylphe thing. It probably had more to do with Hylo's extreme deference and his equally extreme mother. "I don't think you should change your name," she said. "Just my thought. And yeah. Yeah, we're getting married."

Which was the last thing she'd expected on a supply run to the middle of nowhere. Last she'd seen Hylo, he'd been on Coruscant; last she'd heard from him, he'd been poking at his mother's legacy with Kaili and company. The Force, apparently, had wanted them to run into each other, intended things to line up. If the Force had a will, serendipity was its hallmark. Aleidis and Dad had always taught her that much.

"...feth, I've still got a system's worth of sentry drones to unload." The attention had died down, thank goodness. She let out a long breath and found she was still smiling. She'd have to get used to that. "Nice comfortable cargo bay to strip down. I think you should come help me with that. Right now."

 

[Hylocereus]

[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

Hylo gulped. Nice comfortable cargo bay, strip down....A goofy smile met Mara's own as Hylo looked around a little embarrassed half tempted ti give [member="Jorus Merrill"] a thumbs up. No stop. He thought a moment before turning. Wait he did it! He resisted the urge to do something embarrassing and dumb. Happily he insisted upon taking Mara by the hand. Together they moved towards the cargo bay. It was great to see her smile again, and it was near addictive to the young man who could only be described as giddy at this moment. "We'll have to tell your father when we're done..." he thought about his next words, don't say anything stupid Hylo, "stripping down the cargo bay."

Smooth. The flower on his head opened up. "I love you Mara."

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Fiolette Yvarro"]

Jorus chuckled. "Yeah, I thought I had you pegged for another old head with a young face. I've lost track of how old I am, mostly 'cause I never knew my birthdate too exactly and I've been through a couple of strange things in Wild Space, but I think I'm somewhere around fifty, fifty-five. Took me about that long to learn to put my family first - wife, my kid. That's her over there, dragging the ginger kid out from under the mistletoe. I used to spend so much dang time making big plans and getting ambitious and starting wars. Glad I got to start more or less fresh, and most folks don't get that lucky.

"As for Forcers, you'll get no argument here. The ones I respect most work their rears off, and solve problems with other kinds of skills, and those ones are few and far between. There's, let's see... [member="Seydon Gunn"] the monster hunter, [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] at Corellia Digital, [member="Bryce Bantam"] at Gallofree, [member="Kaili Talith"] the droid builder, [member="Ayden Cater"] wherever he's gone, a few others. Not many, not these days. Call me elitist, but I prefer friends that aren't Forcers." He snorted in amusement.

"Who you running with these days, if you don't mind me asking? Kwenn - that's a Nadir port, isn't it? My kid's done some work with them."

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

Fiolette grinned something like a prowling Nexu with fresh prey in her jaws. "Yeah, yeah from your file you seemed a bit younger in the face than in years." She let her shoulders down just an inch or two, relaxed them as if more weight had been rolled off of them. "If I had the luxury of not knowing," a smile and then it faded, "unfortunately Galidraan is a little well kept for me to not know." She gave away her home planet, not that her accent wouldn't have given her away albeit faded over the years with Imperial service. It still hung around like thorns in the rose bush. "I recall my husband, ex-husband really, Josef Yvarro. He was a Belsavis man and we met, oh... unofficially at the end of the Atrisian Empire but officially near One Sith's start."

She paused and decided to order a round of club soda instead of rum. "We had three children together, the girls are being cared for by my niece." A beat, "she's given them far more than I could have, but it was the hardest thing to realize that I was not the best for them." Fiolette was hardly around and as she got a look at Jorus's daughter she smiled as she brought her attention back to him. "My oldest is too busy dragging around my shadow and making some form of attempt to smash it to bits I imagine." The blonde thanked the servant and took the club soda. She twirled a small straw around the glass and listened to Jorus talk about force users and in particular the ones he 'hung around' as the younger generation would have explained.

"Ayden Cater," there was a name she hadn't heard of in years, "I recall studying his work when I was a much more agile officer. His designs were among the many I could call out for inspiration." The other names she hadn't quite recognized, "can't say I recall the other names unfortunately. Though..." Fiolette drank a bit of club soda, "I'm sure if I'm about often enough I'll run into them one way or another. Galaxy is far too small with all things considered."

Although the name Talith rung a bell, and suddenly she recalled the intelligence briefings after Kuragin. She tucked that bit of information away deciding to save it for a warm day on Hoth. Fiolette did echo his sentiment, "aye and friends are far and few between these days. Everyone so decidedly eager to give them up in vain for one reason or another." For one zealous cause or another she didn't say but her eyes said it at the very least. Now she decided the overcoat had become a bit of a bother and took it off swiftly revealing a long light sweater it was a shade of cream that had been knitted by machine and bought at a shop on the way from Kwenn.

"It is." She answered directly, "had dinner with a Miss Var Nabba there at Il D'orgo, actually one of her transgalactic restaruants." A pause as the Galidraani fiddled with the straw around the glass once more. "I wouldn't say that I was running with them but I do appreciate the business opportunity that we manage to put together."

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Fiolette Yvarro"]

"You might run into them," Jorus agreed. "Well, not Cater, probably, and Gunn keeps to himself compulsively, but the rest, sure. Heck, I think Bantam's even here somewhere." Tough to say for sure, of course. Between the size of the venue and the noise level, [member="Hylocereus"] could have been popping the question to Mara in the same room and Jorus wouldn't have noticed it.

The name of Yvarro's Nadir contact didn't ring a bell, and it probably should have. There'd been a time when he kept a close eye on Point Nadir and related shadowports. He made a mental note to look up 'Var Nabba.' He also noted that, if two plus two made four, Yvarro's children were in the care of Natasi Fortan or a close relative. That locked down most substantive angles for turning Yvarro. A tacit warning, perhaps, that Yvarro's integrity wasn't for sale. Without solid cause and serious disillusionment, anyone with a shred of spine would keep quiet about the secrets learned in old jobs. He figured Yvarro saw things similarly, and he didn't want to risk it by pushing too hard. Better to change the subject.

"What you flying these days, Fiolette? Need anything tuned up?"

 

[Janick Beauchamp]

Now that the conversation has shifted gears, she requested a keg of mead, hoping to alchemize its content and even using one of those fresh venipunctures for that purpose. With that said, the mead was a little more reddish, as the dark-sided Force-energy began flowing into the mead - and she made a poodoo-load of progress in alchemizing drinks since she first brewed some. Even though, by and large, Alyssa was responsible for this product back on Utapau, here she feels that she had to save a few spacers from themselves, especially those whom she knew were pirates or other spacers of the more unsavory variety. Maybe a well-placed delirium tremens will put these spacers back into place, she thought, while perhaps luring one of the more alcohol-prone pirates bands, which also ran a slaver operation, into letting her serve the keg of mead. Probably one of those people who would think Janick would be an attractive prize as a trophy wife. Because slavers often sold people under a variety of labels: trophy people (husbands or wives), prostitutes, slaves, to name common outlets for slavers.

"Here, Ottegan mead, on the house" Janick announced to a band of slavers that could somehow take up an entire table at Caupona Bar.

"It better be good" the lead slaver told the tall woman.

 

[Joza Perl]

Everything was going on all at once—that’s what you got when the ORC threw a Life Day Party! [member="Bryce Bantam"] was currently dressed as what she could only have described as a “sexy Banta Claus”, [member="Jorus Merrill"] was engaged with an important looking woman she was sure she’d seen somewhere and…was that an older version of [member="3X744"]? The kid with the stuffed Wookie? Couldn’t be. He was drinking.

She wondered where that kid with the flowers sticking out of his head had gone, the one that was suffering through a volley of Merrill dad jokes. She spied him over with the younger Merrill looking a mix of giddy and nervous. Something had to have gone on, but she’d missed the big proposal over the din of the cantina.

The Zeltron blinked as a drink slid in front of her, looking up to see the form of [member="Vaudin Miir"] as he retreated into a plate of nuna wings. Picking up the drink, she sipped it idly before humming in surprise at how strong it was. She’d certainly need her two livers tonight. Taking another measured sip of the strong drink, her eyes fell on [member="Noah Corek"] as he sat alone. There were plenty of stoic types in the Outer Rim but Joza hadn’t seen him before. Who knew if he was friend or foe?

Sliding off of her stool, she made her way over to him and slipped into the seat next to him. “Hi.” She offered cheerfully. “Haven’t seen your face around here before, stranger.” She pressed her lips to the edge of the cup once more, giving him a politely inquisitive look.

 

[Noah Corek]

Noah popped the joints in his neck as he looked over the bar, most of the people Noah was not acquainted with and he preferred to keep it that way he wasn't fond of loose ends. The only reason Noah's name had mostly been kept out of the mouth of the Underground was because he had used [member="Jorus Merrill"] as a middle man when his shipments were 'raided' by pirates. Noah smiled at that, in fact the shipments met at a predetermined place and some of it offloaded.

Taking another swig of his drink Noah's eyes laid upon a Zeltron coming his way. While Noah was acquainted with most of the people in the bar that didn't mean he hadn't read up on some of the dossiers. [member="Joza Perl"], Master-level Force User, born on Zeltros, owner of the Heartbeat House Boutique. With these and other facts in mind Noah deemed her not a threat, though his hand drifted to his revolver because like before, old habits die hard.

As she sat and began to talk Noah extended his hand. "My name is Noah Corek....Miss Perl." Noah offered with a grin. Knowing full well that him knowing her name might set her on edge.

 

[Janick Beauchamp]

"This is the best mead I've drunk this side of New Balosar" the lead slaver commented in a gruff voice. "Here's the finders fee for you"

After the lead slaver handed Janick a 100-credit bill, the slavers all drank mead, taking in one glass apiece, and more glasses too, since the band of about 12 pirates found the alchemized mead much tastier than what they usually drank, so that they kept the whole keg all to themselves, drinking from it until they were done drinking the alchemized booze that they never drank before. What's happening? What's taking so long for the alchemical process to kick in? Or did I alchemize a time-delay into the mead? she thought, upon realizing that it took a lot longer for the alchemical effects to kick in. They have overstayed their welcome in the bar: usually, in ORC space, pirates were allowed to enter bars without questions asked, but if they were recognized by bounty hunters, or otherwise recognized as criminals, they could be taken into custody then, especially if they start brawls. But then they start hallucinating, tripping upon each other, and overturning the table, with allergic reactions to alcohol among the more violent, just after the keg of mead was finished to the last drop by those pirates.

"Now, we have slavers suffering from delirium tremens! They used to prey on shipments from here to Dagobah and Elrood" Janick shouted across the bar.

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

The place was crowded enough but the level of noise didn't quite bother Fiolette. For the first time in the evening, her attention diverted from [member="Jorus Merrill"] and scanned the area. Her azure eyes first fell to the pink-skinned [member="Joza Perl"] and then to the beefy looking fellow [member="Noah Corek"], as she looked around the area at those in attendance. She may have missed [member="Hylocereus"] and [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] and trouble spotting [member="Bryce Bantam"] though the blonde definitely looked in the right direction for him.

Indeed her twice mention of Natasi seemed to dissuade Jorus from any further line of questioning. Or, rather, on this line of questioning he instead turned to shop. "Nothing spectacular I assure you, just a little home away from home." The 'Fleetwood' was a rather odd looking ship even by her standards but it fit what she needed. It was home, the office and everything in between that she needed. "A unique little ship, no guns but rather average on defences but her speed and turning are perhaps some of the better of what I've made recently."

She leaned forward a bit arms pressed on the table, "I'm sure she won't be hard to spot. Perhaps the only ship here marked Fleetwood."

The blonde looked over back out to the crowd and then rested once more with her back against the booth. "If you ever require my services don't hesitate to call." She handed him a holocard that simply read Primo Victorian Incorporated with a small graphic of ships in the back with a number and a holonet page. A hand on her coat as she settled it on her lap, "what about you? Anything in particular that you're in?"

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Micah tol Powl]

The young stormtrooper returned to the Ewok-sized table, around which three athletic dudes were shoe-horned, having just completed a mission vital to national security.

That being, delivery of one pitcher of beer.

As he settled back between Doc and Clutch, the teen realized that Chef had vanished from the bar. That was mildly concerning for the fact that unsupervised combat engineers tended to be very good at starting fires, blowing chit up, and causing trouble. And Chef was usually good for all three at once.

If the Force, luck, and [member="Sieger Ren"]'s sweaty gym socks were on their side... maybe she'd just gone to the latrine.

Meanwhile, Snake was continuing the First Order's finest tradition of getting slapped by about every chick in this place.

As he took a sip of his... second? third, maybe? beer, the teen realized there were more than just a couple of Zeltrons hanging around. At least, he thought they were Zeltrons. He wasn't actually certain. They were people of color. Or was that species-ist and it was colorful people?

Stormtroopers were rather lacking in political correctness training for multi-species diplomacy.

In any case, the barracks were alight with a lot of rumors about Zeltrons. They were either angels from heaven or succubi from the seven levels of whatever hell [member="Sieger Ren"]'s sweaty gym socks lingered in before laundry day. Witches, devils... a couple of terms Three didn't even know, except he knew better than to try looking them up on an official First Order computer.