Safe & Sound | CIS Dominion of Naboo [R-45]

[Ursula Vizla]

It’s not that she hated doing altruistic actions for others. With no reward waiting for her, at the end of the job. But she simply had no patience for whining and licking each other’s wounds, no, for her it was all about oneself, when she was sad, hurt, injured, she did whatever she could to get better, but did it all alone. ‘Walk tall, girl, and do it proudly’ said her father when Ursula was a child, something that she never forgot. Sure, she could be mean, arrogant, cocky, impatient as hell, and cruel, but you do what you gotta do to survive in that galaxy.

When arriving in her freighter in Naboo, Ursula was not alone, her arrival was escorted by ten members of the Terrornauts, they brought boxes and cases of meals for the refugees, distributing them as they appeared in front of them. While standing up some corner, Vizla was eating a protein bar, with her helmet right under her arm, holding the black thing, a child approached, looking starved and a bit dirty.

Frowning her bushy eyebrows, the mandalorian tossed the bar in the child’s hands, whistling for her boys that were handing food. Sure, she was getting paid for being there, but she was bored, and a bored mandalorian was a crawling chaos for those around her. While approaching one of her man, Ursula kicked the man right in the ass, shouting at him in mando’a.

“Move your ass and go get the cages. Find those damn blarth’s nests and cage them. Be gentle to them, they are valuable. And don’t let the nubian authorities see that you’re taking the animals. I don’t expect us to find any problems with them, but don’t call too much attention on yourselves.”, she knew they were busy with the refugees, but even so, she had no idea is what she was doing was ‘legal’, a word that was hard to translate to her native language, “And don’t forget the fambaas. Two couples.” She also send her droid to see a guarlara breeder, so she could know how much two of those would cost her. Ursula herself could walk in that damn quiet place without a single worry in the world, strange for her was that she liked that feeling.

 

[Ugohr Poof]

Objective 3: Shake it Off
Location: Rellias

Now that the excavation of the piles have begun, there were dozens of the more sustainability-minded Gungans that were asking a few questions about the vertical farm. The Gungan's design team had to stand ready for the onslaught of questions he would need to answer from those Gungans. With refugee labor toiling away in the hole they call a future vertical farm, Ugohr would be forced to while the rest of the refugee labor force would be checking on the pouring of the reinforced duracrete that will become the foundation piles. And, of course, precautions are to be taken to ensure the proper curing of the duracrete: even with durasteel rods made with recycled durasteel, or recycled duracrete, curing was key when it came to reinforced duracrete. Of course, other refugees elsewhere in Rellias, hosted at the Gungans' expense, were asking additional questions regarding the sustainability of the entire operation. They knew they could no longer look at the short term, and neither could Ugohr. When he finally began taking new questions from the newcomers:

"What else do yousa have for sustainability? Windmills? Rain water collection?" a Gungan activist asked.

"Yes, wesa have a roof-mounted windmill and wesa have facilities for compost in oursa plans, plus recycled steel will be usen hair, and whenever possible, recycled duracrete"

 

[Cora deWinter]

Location: About to enter Throne Room
Tags: [member="Jamie Pyne"] [member="Kurt Meyer"] [member="Amaya Cardei"] [member="Chikako Liona"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Antoine Rhys"] [member="Aryn Teth"] [member="Deacon Olraen"]
Wearing: This
Post: One

Among the group, slightly in the back of it, the Viceroy of Ando followed along. Naboo was a planet she had in her memories, memories of a life passed. Once upon a time, another Cora attended school here. It was the home that she had known. This time, that planet had been Ando, delivering a different kind of life onto her. Cora was happy where she was, happy to represent the world that was closer to her than Coruscant on which she was born.

Ahead of her, the Viceroy of Ascension spoke to the Exarch. Her emerald eyes rose slightly to glance at the blonde head ahead of her. When they left the room, they would be smiling, he said. "One may hope," Cora said quietly, her hands together ahead of her as they waited.

After a few moments, the doors opened for them to enter and ahead, Cora took the sights of the large throne room, the Queen seated in her throne. Cora waited on the Exarch to move first, along with those beside her to move first before she would follow them inside. Hopefully, this meeting would end as Viceroy Rhys suspected.

 

[Asher Mossa]

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Post: 1

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Anything to stay away from politics, even if that meant handing out relief and aide to those who needed it. Asher also felt like this was a way to do some good in the name of the confederacy, and as a representative of the Mandragora, it was a way to show that they were not all bad. Just because they were led by spirits, and woman who could commune with all of them did not make the group inherently evil. They were not also inherently good. It was the one thing most seemed to misunderstand about the group. Asher hoped to help shine some light on them.

There was a palace and a queen on Naboo. Where there was one, perhaps there would be another. Asher could only hope that [member="Vyra Silara"] would be present to participate in the political talks and that some of her handmaidens would be sent as a sign of goodwill to help with the relief efforts. He was hoping for a certain handmaiden, [member="Eirene"], to be present. Their last exchange had been someone presenting him with a token of hers, and in return, he gifted her with the one thing that meant the most to him, the rings he had worn around his neck belonging to him and his late wife. If there was anything that could tell her his intentions were for her, it was what he had given her.

Children ran along the streets, and around the distribution area. Asher would be found using the force to make a puppet show for them, something that would help them settle and be entertained while their parents were busy collecting the supplies they needed. There was a smile on his face, something that had been rare for the longest time. Today was going to be a good day, he could feel it.

 

[Chikako Liona]

Objective: Meet with [member="Jamie Pyne"]​

Tags: [member="Amaya Cardei"] [member="Kurt Meyer"]​

Post: 2 NPCs: Two TRF​

It did not take to long before several member's of the Royal Naboo Security force came to greet Chikako, "Greetings Vicroy, Liona, the Queen is awaiting you and the other CIS members int the throne room, please come this way". "Thank you, it's a pleasure to be here", giving a small bow the short Echani along with her small guard detail followed the small detachment into the inner halls, working their way towards the throne room, the style and intricate patterns of the walls still being a nice sight to see no matter how old they got.

Coming close to the throne room she spine several people, [member="Cora deWinter"], [member="Srina Talon"] and some other man ([member="Antoine Rhys"]) whom she was not aware of entering the throne room, herself giving a small wave to the members, quickly following suit. Standing behind and to the left of the dewinter she took in the grand nature of the throne room, wide open space, easily able to fit a large meeting of people, the throne itself seating the Queen with several Jedi and guards standing nearby.

She would have lived to speak out first but would have to wait until Srina gave the opening comments, while here the woman was head of the diplomatic parties and represented the confederacy as a whole. Chikako was more or less only able to speak for her own planet, though unlike others could make decision right away without some council approval.

 

[SC-A1]

AR-G002 was making rounds with five other droids, in a standard escort formation, surrounding a hover crate filled with rations, blankets, and small cases of medicine. One of the droids had a holo-board and was taking notes and inventory. Between talking with refugees and handing giving out what goods were on hand, the Major was slightly on edge, as much on edge as a droid could be. Both droid power, and rations were dwindling as the chain of command worked to move resources around with the recent influx of territory and refugees. All the while he was keeping tabs on the mood that was flowing through the settlement, seeing children run around playing, as men and women either, went out to go work the fields being set up or out to the swamps to assist the Gungans with their farms. The droid saw a man waving his hands to make make-shift puppets dance around entertaining kids and a group of Mandalorians both helping give out supplies and yelling at each other . He marched up to the man and offered up a blanket and a set of rations. "Thank you for helping in anyway, here are some supplies to see you up, please notify the nearest clerk droid for any issues you find. Also if you need fresh cloths or linens we can see what we have in the warehouse." the droid said eyeing the mans' simple and slightly dirty attire as he seemed to kneel to the children's level to entertain them with his slight of hand, as best as AR-G002, could see it. The droid looked around one last time, its' gears whirring slightly as his head swiveled slightly before turning back to the cart, its metal eyes looking towards the Mandalorians one last time.

[member="Asher Mossa"]

[member="Ursula Vizla"]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

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Location: Theed, Royal Palace | Objective: Escort Srina Talon | Tags: [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Jamie Pyne"] [member="Antoine Rhys"] [member="Aryn Teth"] | Post: I​

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Cardinal held a rather negative disposition when it came to being called to the halls of politics. More than anything he hated to see the inner workings of governments and their negotiations. Often he found it to be corrupt and aggravating, a waste of hours in a galaxy running out of time. The Dominus Prime to the Knight's Obsidian had been tasked with the protection of the Exarch, [member="Srina Talon"]. The order had come from [member="Darth Metus"], to accompany her during her travels to Naboo and see her to never fall from safety. A supreme loyalist to the Vicelord and his beliefs, Cardinal would never think of denying Isley's will, however he wished the man would have found another for the task.

Glancing over to the fair-skinned Echani, Cardinal realized the woman meant something to Isley. He did not know the specifics of their relationship outside of being a Master and Apprentice, however it was obvious the woman meant something to The Vicelord, and in turn Cardinal. He would not see her to harm.

Of course, as his near-golden eyes scanned the scenery they passed on their way to the Royal Palace he saw less and less cause for concern, though it did not cause him to lower his guard. Cardinal was not Srina's only companion during this venture. Two others, [member="Aryn Teth"] and [member="Antoine Rhys"] , a set of men Cardinal did not know much about. It did not matter for now, as there would likely be time for some manner of introductions later. Pulling his locked hair into his hood, Cardinal pressed a button on his gauntlet, which caused his helmet to materialize around his face. As the black faceplate came to life in a red hue, it was covered in a series of small hexagons.

Remaining silent, Cardinal stood in the back of the group, awaiting their entry to the Royal Palace.

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[Cassius Droma]

Location: Naboo | Outside of Theed
Objective: 2 (A Place in This World) and 3 (BYOO)

Naboo was a hectic hotbed of activity. With all of the incoming transports, shuttles, and security patrols, the communications channels were all nearly incomprehensible droning. So, when Cassius Droma had arrived in the system in his YT-1000 light freighter, an exasperated space traffic controller had greeted him with a rushed introduction. The young pilot was then quickly informed that all of the civilian hangars and landing pads were either already in use or reserved for diplomatic vessels from the Confederacy of Independent Systems.

Fearing this, Cassius had acquired a very small two-seater gravsled and placed it in the starboard docking port of the Stardust Melody. When he finally got permission to come into Naboo’s atmosphere, he had T-4D4 drop him off nearby Theed along the banks of the great river. The loyal droid companion then took off and headed for an unobtrusive orbit, ready to come back down and pick him up when called.

As Cassius finally sat down in the new, blue gravsled and powered on the engines, he took a moment to look out across the river. Dozens of transports littered the sky, all in various lines leading into or out of Theed. It was as if a dark cloud had rolled over the whole planet. The pain and grief of the Alliance’s collapse was brought here by those displaced. When Cassius had been here before on a short vacation, Naboo had seemed tranquil. Now, though, it just felt like there was a frantic energy surrounding the place.

He pushed the throttle, easing onto the road that at the moment, wasn’t so crowded. The young Jedi was sure that as he got closer to Theed, he’d hardly be able to move.

His new mentor, Gianna Aegis, had requested his presence on Naboo. At first, he figured it was for humanitarian reasons. Healing had never been his strong suit – it was why the Stardust was fitted with a full medbay – so this seemed like a good opportunity to learn. Not to mention the fact that the pair always went where they were needed, and Naboo could sure need them at that moment. In actuality, though, the redheaded Jedi Knight had expressed interest in house-hunting. This had taken Cassius by surprise. The two were nomads, living out of their ships, so wanting to put roots down seemed… backwards.

Yet, he understood the sentiment. He, too, had a small desire to have somewhere a little more permanent to call home, somewhere he could always come back to. Maybe the Silver Rest of Kashyyyk was like that for him… but it wasn’t really his. Rinn was too remote, and there were far too many emotions associated with the frozen rock for him to call it home and still train as a Jedi there.

As he drove by the beautiful view of the river, the wind blowing through his hair, Cassius gave pause to the idea of similarly settling down on Naboo. Gianna was his master, after all, and could be for quite some time. Not that he would be able to afford a place here, though, especially with the massive influx of new residents.

He made it to the refugee camp that Gianna had told him about, and parked the gravsled somewhat far away to keep it away from anyone who would maybe want to steal it. What Gia hadn’t told him was how big the camp was. There had to be thousands of people here, all huddled together, with various aid workers trying to provide them with food, water, or medical services. Standing there, at the entrance of the large building, Cassius closed his eyes and became very still.

Reaching out, his initial instinct was a recoil. There was so much suffering, so much pain, and he had nearly dove right into it without thinking. He had to take a more logical approach – he had to be smart about this. What would make Gia stand out amongst all the rest, other than her specific signature? She was warm, kind, gentle. Within a sea of despair, that would be easier to pick out. His mind searched throughout the complex, and before he knew it, his feet were carrying him through the entrance and he weaved around the various people milling about. As he got further and further, more and more flashes of the young woman came to him. Her bright eyes, warm smile, and glowing skin were pinned to his mind’s eye, and he began to be able to distinguish her more clearly as an individual.

Finding her visually wasn’t nearly as difficult – he could spot that red-orange hair for miles.

“Hey,” he said, sauntering up to her. “Need a hand?” As much as he wanted to get out of here and look at some nice houses, he knew that they had a job to do as Jedi.

[member="Gianna Aegis"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

Daxton was a hammer, blunt, heavy, packing a heavy punch. The kind you needed when things got hairy and you need to clear a way to the evac shuttle. He had no illusions about this, he accepted what he was.

What he rather not deal with was this world, Naboo had its charms for certain, its just that these very chatms are what set his teeth on the edge. Give him a good bar, a dozen drunk Gamorreans and a few hours to kill and maybe, just maybe it would feel more normal.

Fortunately for him the ladies he had promised to accompany were all busy doing stuff, making this section of space part of the Confederacy abd that was fine with him. If his luck will hold perhaps the Grabd Market would ‘accidentally’ get burned down as well. Oh well, that was probably too much to ask for.

Pouring himself another shot of Corellian Scotch he gazed out of the window of his rented room and hoped the gods would in their infinite wisdom and carapice make this day a little more interesting.

 

[Ugohr Poof]

Objective 3: Shake it Off
Location: Rellias

"How issa duracrete recycled?" the Gungan asked.

"Recyclin duracrete begins with crushen issa"

There were several types of recycled duracrete in use on this construction site: finely crushed recycled duracrete was used for pouring, such as foundations and their piles, while the coarser variety is for gravel. That said, Ugohr didn't know the nitty-gritty of using recycled duracrete in its fine details, so the engineering Squib would be answering questions related to the use of recycled duracrete, and it was then that they all realized that, as a recyclable, it was much like paper in that duracrete could only be salvaged a finite number of times and still retain some sort of usability. Ugohr was happy, however, with the progress being made in the early stages of the vertical urban farm's construction. The design may be a little ugly to some, an eyesore even to those local Gungans or non-Gungan refugees, but such was the cost of building a vertical farm with a few wind turbines on the roof. Meanwhile, the Gungan executive was expecting to be asked a few questions about the gases collected from composting while the composting equipment was being unpacked. Sure, it was known by many that composting was there to produce biological fertilizer and that the process involved some gases as a by-product, just that what was done with the gas greatly varied.

 

[Cerik Soloman]

Posts: 1​

Location: Zaela Station​

Tags: TBD​

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Cerik stood near an administrative booth within the refugee district of the station. He had been standing there for hours, assisting refugees from different parts of the galaxy of the now fallen Galactic Alliance, and providing "guard" for the area. While he was decked out in his full Knights Obsidian Armor, even with the helm, it was merely for show. The Confederacy was not here to lay conquest on the planet, but merely offer protection and support. And thus, he was subject to their government rules, and in this particular instant, the RSF's total ban on weapons on the station. He felt empty without his lighsaber and a bit of discomfort ran through his mind every so often. Despite the RSF's well equipped screening, he couldn't help but wonder what could happen if someone did manage to sneak a weapon in. A weapon combined the emotional instability of the refugees could prove fatal. But that was just a fleeting though he had. He held immense sorrow for these people. The Sith Empire and First Order somehow managed the complete destruction of a major government entity as well as their capital planet. Many of these people will never live life the same again and Cerik did everything he could to help them. Earlier he was making food (despite his poor skills, fortunately he had help), playing games with the children, and helping the refugees solve their personal conflicts, but now he was here acting like a guard, despite his lack of actual authority over anything. Perhaps as a slight CIS show of force. Kark, only 30 more minutes.

Cerik wished to be on planet's surface with the Obsidian guard corp assigned to the protection of the negotiations. As an Adjudicator, it was supposed to be his duty to deal in politics and people, and even though he'd be acting as guard, he'd love the opportunity to witness it. But alas, it was also his duty to deal with people without politics too, and so he was here providing as much help as he could. This does not mean he disliked this job, he did give everything he could to these people, but he felt helpless knowing he couldn't do more, and wished to participate on a larger scale than cooking food. But he knew he was a young member in the Obsidian, and knew that his time would come if he kept up his attitude of giving his best. He turned to the young Twi'lek woman at the counter who was working the desk and started a slight discussion with her, trying to pass by his last half hour of "guard duty".

 

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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Theed Royal Palace, Naboo, Chommell Sector, The Mid Rim​

Interacting With: [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Antoine Rhys"]​

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For all of its beauty, history, and relative importance to the now-collapsed Galactic Alliance, Aryn had never once actually been to Naboo. He had always wished to, the rolling green hills and lakes that dotted its surface always seemed to call to him, and it had always been among one of the highest worlds on his list of places to disappear. It was the kind of world on which one could get truly lost, without all of the unfortunate trappings of 'no-where' outer rim worlds such as Tatooine or Jakku. Naboo was certainly not a minor world, especially under the reign of [member="Jamie Pyne"], but there were still places out among the vast, welcoming green, where one could find themselves left truly alone, free from all the worries of the galaxy.

It was a life that Aryn idolized even more with every passing day, if [member="Srina Talon"] had not continued to drag him from whatever corner of the galaxy he was in to assist her on be on her arm at whatever gala, meeting or invasion the Confederacy was involved with, he may very well have taken to that life by now.

He had been quiet, more quiet than usual, since they had arrived in-system, and the flight down to the planet and the subsequent trip through Theed towards the palace had held Aryn in a kind of trance. Naboo may have been spared from the efforts of the Sith and First Order in their onslaught against the Galactic Alliance, but he was still reminded simply by being there of the assault. This journey to Naboo was the first trip Aryn had made back into what was now former-Alliance space, it was not a journey he particularly wished to make, Aryn was still largely recovering from what he believed to be his failure, despite Srina's insistence otherwise. Still, he tried his best not to let it show, though he was usually remarkably terrible at doing so.

Feeling the brush of Srina's fingers against his own, along with the rousing echo of her voice in his mind, drew him from his trance as he was reminded of her words to him not too long ago - warning him against going places 'she couldn't follow'. He knew that his tendency to zone out mildly irritated her at the very least, though kicking the habit was more than a little difficult. He just gave her a gentle smile, forced as they often were, choosing to let the man on the other side of her answer for the both of them as he simply remained on her arm, ready to be brought into the throne room for the beginning of this meeting.

 

[Mariya Pyne]

Location: Theed Palace Hangar
Objective: BYOO - Repair N-9A Fighter

Princess of Naboo or not, the palace was no place for Mariya. She wasn’t into politics, not as a representative of her house, not as a dignitary, not as a councilor or minister, not even as a lended ear to the Queen. Mariya was the type to say what she was thinking in whatever manner she so chose, rather than doctor her words up with pretty enunciation and wordplay. It would suit the delegation much more if the girl made herself scarce for these proceedings. Instead, she found herself within the palace hangar, working on her N-9A starfighter. The engines had been acting up during her last test flight, noting an occasional dip in power when firing at full thrust.

It irked her, to say the least. So now seemed as good a time as any to get to finding the troublesome component and rooting it out.

This way she wouldn’t have to listen to the pretentious words of off worlders either. It was a win-win for everyone.

R7 wheeled about, projecting schematic after schematic for the brunette as she toiled away, stripping wires and removing small plates to get further into the rear of the ship. Once in a while the little astromech would provide her a light, or a spot weld where it was needed. He was sort of her best friend. Always there when she needed someone, never a pest. She preferred the little guy to most human company. And with the refugees coming in, the hangar itself was empty of workers, instead helping to direct places for them to take up temporary residence. That meant peace and quiet for her while she worked.

 

[Kurt Meyer]

Naboo Palace - Hangar
[member="Mariya Pyne"]

Getting to the hangar didn't take too long.

At first he was constantly getting lost in the palace, but by now he was becoming an expert in finding his way around. There was apparently a trick to it, one that Jamie had taught him after he'd thrice ended up in the same back hallway of the east wing. Getting to the hangar from where he had been was simple enough, a few left turns, a turbo-lift, and then three more quick hallways. After that it was just a straight shot to one of the side doors of the main hangar.

Really made things easy. The Guards and engineers were mostly all gone by now, though Kurt passed a few of them on his way. Each of them either gave him a quick nod or shot a quick wave, none of them stopped to speak to him though. The Naboo were a professional bunch.

After a bit more he passed through the hangar doors, eyes wandering as he tried to find Jamie's Sister. After a moment he spotted her.

"There you are." He spoke loud enough so she would hear him.

 

[Ria Misrani]

All at once everyone was ushered in, Amaya looked behind her at the delegation and gave small directions as to where they should stand. She watched a moment as the others flooded in, [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"], [member="Aryn Teth"] and [member="Antoine Rhys"] among the delegation she knew of Aryn Teth his name and face would be hard to dismiss even after the Fall. Those unknown to Amaya and her father would wonder what her purpose here was and to be honest it was the double edged blade known as neutrality. She had small personal interest between the two parties but nothing more.

The Daughter of Naboo and Mandalore spoke first, "your majesty may I present Exarch [member="Srina Talon"] and the Delegation of the Confederacy, Viceroy Rhys, [member="Cora deWinter"], and [member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"]." Her eyes fell to Aryn, "the young Princess of Tythe and of course Aryn Teth." Whether or not to add the title of former Supreme Commander eluded her for the moment. She gave [member="Jamie Pyne"] a bow of respect and moved to take her place, hands behind her back as the trail of her gown moved swiftly behind her. The group would have been led by the palace guards to the throne room, escorted was more the term and those same palace guards now stood keeping an ever watchful eye over the delegation.

Amaya knew but one face among the delegation and that was Srina.

 

[Ugohr Poof]

Objective 3: Shake it Off
Location: Rellias

"How do yousa use da waste gas from composten?" another Gungan bystander asked.

"Wesa typically use dat for feeden oursa fusion power generators"

These days, most landfills were using the gases from its putrefaction to feed gas to a fusion reactor, which then generates power, and this place would also triple as a power plant and as an organic waste composting center. Now that's one rather risky way to supply energy to Rellias and its surrounding region, but what would be in the basement of the vertical farm would be... the reactor assembly. Which takes gases produced by the compost being produced above as fuel. Just that the reactor assembly was not yet delivered because the duracrete in the foundations and the piles just weren't yet. And yet the durasteel beams were also being positioned while the duracrete below just started being cured. In that the Gungan was going to just watch carefully for any new development in the construction of the basement, to get the vertical farm connected to the utilities, both for power generation but also for sewage, Holonet access and other utilities that typical buildings in industrial areas would need. For now, anyway, it was just the beginning of the work.

 

[Fawn Alzi]

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Location: The Salty Gungan
Objective: Brought My Own
Wearing: Magenta robes, black fingerless elbow gloves & footwraps
Nearby: [member="Scherezade deWinter"]
Post: 1

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As far as Fawn was concerned, the proper path for her to take was whatever she deemed good for her. She didn't have friends in high or low places, nor did she have a need for them. Even among the Confederacy, which she had stuck with for longer than she was willing to admit, she never once felt as if she 'belonged' or any sort of notion like that. What it meant to 'belong' was to meld into another entity, become their ilk, compromise.

It was too late to compromise, or else she would have done it back on Dathomir. Her folks wanted something out of her, a tradition she spat in the face of, then burned to a writhing crisp. She would have stayed with her master, she would have done as she was told, she would have been more reliable to the Confederacy. She wouldn't have been using them as an excuse to go to Naboo and drink herself sick.

Coming as little surprise, Fawn was an irritable drunk. Whatever inhibitions she had to be kind to people were lost when enough alcohol entered her blood. Friends would have liked to believe that she was a better person deep down inside, but Fawn herself knew better. She was a bitter witch with a penchant for biting the hands that feed her, and just as the fangs in which she used to bite grew sharper, so too did the bitterness inside her.

Only the dead could be trusted.

"What the hell even is this?" she chastised her bartender, who did his best to ignore her belligerent remarks. "I can't get drunk off flavored water, I need a real drink. Do you even know what a real drink tastes like or is Naboo the planet of lightweights?" Truth be told, she was already drunk, but it was never enough. Until she couldn't tell which way she was facing and puking over some unsuspecting socialite, she could never be satisfied.

Turning to one side, she could see another Confederacy girl with the same idea as her. "Hey," she called out gracelessly to Scherezade. "Why aren't you out there being a good little Confederacy dog?"

 

[Mariya Pyne]

Location: Theed Palace Hangar
Objective: BYOO - Repair N-9A Fighter

The sudden voice carrying throughout the large hangar startled the girl, enough so that as she reflexively jolted upwards she conked her head off a durasteel plate just inches above her, sending out a loud clang! The sound followed by a stark curse and a profuse rubbing of the now pained area on the top of her skull. "Son of a..." She started, then cut herself off as she turned to see Jamie's boy toy standing just a few feet away from her. The girl let go of the servodriver in her hand, rubbing a bit of grease from them with a small rag that hung over the side of one of the wings of the N-9A. A polite smile graced her features as she waived to Kurt.

"Hey." She wasn't sure yet if it was normal to hug her sister's boyfriend, or whether it was still too soon. She wasn't exactly close with him, but it felt like the normal thing to do... "What are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be up with Jamie two-facing with those Confederate spies?"

Mariya really wasn't into politics, or off worlders who brought their politics to her home.

[member="Kurt Meyer"]

 

[Kurt Meyer]

Naboo Palace - Hangar
[member="Mariya Pyne"]

Kurt slowly stepped up to the fighter, glancing at the wing for a moment before he replied. "Nah, I'm a worse politician than your sister is a pilot."

That was one joke that Jamie couldn't hold against him. Upon their first meeting she had nearly killed them both while flying The Messa, using the ships afterburners and nearly crashing them into another vessel. The moment had been utterly terrifying, and there had been a few other incidents since then that had convinced Kurt to never let Jamie pilot anything. Of course that had become easier since she'd landed on the throne, Queen's didn't fly their own speeders.

"Best to keep me away from that stuff." Besides, he had absolutely no legal standing to even be in that room.

Naboo had only very recently become his home, and in truth the only thing that really felt like home about it was the fact Jamie was here. He hoped that in time it would come to change, but for now he tried to occupy himself as much as he could so as to not think about it.

"What's with the ship?" He asked, glancing up for just a brief moment to see what components she'd removed. "Engines?"

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: The Salty Gungan
Objective: 3
Wearing: jeans, black t-shirt, combat boots
Wielding: 12 Czerka knives, 4 Glitter Bullets
Tags: [member="Fawn Alzi"]
Post: 3

She'd stopped counting after the twelveth shot. Her head was woozy, and she could feel Naboo spinning faster than it probably was. And still the memories would not relent, and still the pain would not ease. She leaned her head against her hand, a small whimper escaping her lips. It was only now that she realized Naboo had been on the list of planets she'd offered him they'd visit, when she thought he hadn't been happy about the idea of Coruscant. There were other places too... This was not the first time the memory of that happy morning flushed her, one of the last ones, before he abandoned her first and betrayed her later. People always promised her that the pain would ease with time.

Scherezade let the shot glass in her hand snap as she squeezes on it, feeling the glass biting into her hand, the smell of the blood reaching her nose almost immediately. People lied. They were some weeks after that now and still the pain was raw as it had been on that night. The only difference was in her ability to keep it inside. She wasn't snapping at others anymore, she wasn't beaking her bones on metal walls. But none of that had to do with the pain or the hurt lessening, because they simply refused, and everything she had tried to do about it had resulted in the same thing that all her attempts resulted in; nothing.

Ignoring the blood and the glass stuck in her skin, she motioned to the bartender for another drink when she realized someone was talking to her.

Scherezade looked, hearing the woman ask why she wasn't out there being a good little Confederacy dog. She wanted to be angry, she wanted to give her a verbal lashing. But what was the point?

"Dogs get treated better than I do," she answered as her drink arrived, and she downed it in one go as she had the previous ones, "so why not add the drinking bill to their list of expenses. Not like they'll even bother to know."