Public Splendor and Spite

[Mauve du Vain]

Spoiler

"See anything that makes you curious?"

Fingers wrapped around the stem of the offered flute, Mauve set the glass to her lips and pondered as she sipped.

Reluctantly, Mauve’s gaze drifted away from the sight of the Echani in her bold dress, with a plunging front that Mauve found… distracting.

Her head tilted slightly, violet eyes flicking to follow Quinn’s verbal cue. She spotted the new King of Naboo and felt a roiling in her stomach. Repulsion. Hate. Disgust.

After Quinn took a bullet for Mauve on Wielu and lay on the ground of the conference room, the then Prince had loomed over her like a vulture, armed with a knife. Threatening to cut her open. And then he had. He’d stabbed Quinn, after Mauve slapped him. She could recall the stinging in her palm after it struck his cheek.

Perhaps she should go back for seconds.

“Ew.”

Her attention shifted to the woman on his arm, a pretty brown-haired thing in a sleeved black dress. Mauve could see the aura of emotions welling around this woman, basking in the attentions of the reception.

Mauve finished another sip, fingers toying with the electrum necklace resting on her chest.

“Who is that on his arm… You know, I don’t think he deserves anyone that beautiful. Should we mount a rescue?”

A heist.

A devious smile curled up the corners of those plum colored lips.

Quinn Varanin Bastila Sal-Soren

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Mauve du Vain //: Bastila Sal-Soren //: Aurelian Veruna //:
//: Rescue (Heist) //:

Quinn's eyes followed Mauve's, catching on the King's companion. Already, she could see the wheels turning in the Zeltron's mind. Revenge was always a thought that lingered for the Princess — usually in the form of the King stripped of title and crown, bleeding out where he had postured. But Mauve… Mauve seemed to prefer a more entertaining way of cutting him down.

Quinn admired that cleverness and chose to indulge it.

"Mm," she mused, her gaze flicking back to the woman at the boy-king's side. "She's pretty. Far too pretty for a vulture like him."

Her head tilted as recognition sparked. "My credits are on her being a Sal-Soren." Quinn nodded to herself. She had studied the Republic before everything unraveled on Weilu. There had even been talk of a loose alliance, the beginnings of cooperation — all of it dissolved when the King decided to be proactive.

"The Sal-Sorens are easy to spot," Quinn continued, her tone sly. "That hair, that bone structure. As if the stars themselves had a hand in it." Her smile widened. "Far too good for the likes of a coward."

Her arm brushed against Mauve's, a subtle gesture — Echani language in touch.

"She looks like she needs some fun in her evening," Quinn said, smirking as she started forward toward the pair. Her eyes didn't stray from Bastila Sal-Soren.

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

LIBRARY

And then, it was over. Ben's lips parted, a little intake of breath indicating he was about to say something, only to falter. What could he say? She was already walking away. "You too," he murmured, watching her go.

Persephone didn't hear his murmured goodbye. Wineglass in hand, her singular mission was to hit the library. She had no plans to steal per se, but with Zee in tow it was easy for the droid to put his optical sensors to good use and scan and copy the pages. When one was after hard-to-find research they had to do what they had to do.

Quietly she entered to see two guests already at the books. Seemed they were already doing Inari's work for her - distracting security. Not that she couldn't play the dumb, innocent, lost socialite teenager card if needed. Lucky for her she needed the historical section - never seen a private library organized in such a fashion but it worked.

With a head tilt directed at Zee, the pair quietly worked their way over to the history section to scan for any texts she needed. Doubtful here in the Hapes Cluster but if there was anything she learned after becoming wealthy was nobility had things just cause they could.

Time to start searching.

 

[Juniper Le Fey]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⛧━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
​

"No, I don't think they were lying. I think he just didn't know where the key is because they don't trust him." Her mind flicked back to how quick he'd folded, how easy it had been to buy him off. "Smart decision," she muttered, half amused, half annoyed. She went back to pulling bottles one by one, glass clinking in the quiet, already knowing it was going to take forever if she kept at it this way.

That's when it hit her. She didn't have to waste all night sifting through racks like a servant. She could try to channel it. It had been a long time since she'd been able to control when and where her psychometry showed up, but she figured it was worth a shot. She set both hands on the rack, closing her eyes and forcing her focus down into the current of the Force. "Give me just a second." Her voice was tight, steady, though her body said otherwise. To Tohu, it wouldn't have looked like searching at all. Her eyes went white, flashing magenta, and her mouth opened just slightly as if something else was pulling her strings. It wasn't a settling sight.

In her head came the flood. Hands, hundreds of them, pawing at the strongbox. Opening, closing, hiding, taking. Always the key. She could see it twist and grind against the lock over and over, the same cut grooves biting into the same metal teeth. The pressure of it made her chest seize, breath scraping in her throat, but she forced herself deeper. She bent the vision, bent it until one detail cut through the haze. Every hand, every time. The key went back in the same place.

Her eyes bled back to normal and she staggered out a breath, feeling like she'd been kicked in the gut and rung across the skull at the same time. She braced herself on the rack, dragging in slow, heavy breaths until her balance came back. Then she raised her hand, pointing straight at the label without hesitation. "Mon Calamari Deep Red," she said, voice low and steady, like she was still halfway inside the vision. "There."

The words landed with finality. Juniper let her arm fall, rolling her shoulders as if nothing had happened, no sign of what it had taken out of her. She wasn't about to explain herself, not here, not to him. She left the silence thick between them, daring him to press. Whether Tohu had the guts to ask about the flash in her eyes or the way she'd just locked up was his business, not hers.

 

[Aurellia]

Hasuras Na-Gerra | Aurelian Veruna | Bastila Sal-Soren

​

“As for entertainment… would it please you if I threw one of them through a window.”

After a thoughtful moment, Aurellia offered up a smile that insisted such might so satiate her appetite - but a response died on her lips as the earlier who in question made their introductions. A critical gaze surveyed the pair, slowing as it rolled up Bastila's form. Another match in the making, then? Doubtful. Ignoring the respect Aurellian's title demanded, the Queen Mother chose to greet his female companion first, as was Hapan custom.

"It's a pleasure, Lady Sal-Soren. It seems His Majesty has good taste in companions."

Well-bred, well-mannered, and comely, all that was expected of a lady. Though, it remained to see if she had a brain in the pretty head of hers or if she would settle for falling at the feet of a king. With the blushes, Aurellia was leaning toward the latter.

"Heir to two great houses? We shall have to keep an eye on you." The Queen's attention turned to the king. "And Your Grace, as well, I suppose. My sources inform me that you were able to pass your wartime measures almost unanimously. A wise proposition."

Or an inconvenient one, for a pirate queen.

"One doesn't want to be caught unawares with my husband plaguing the hyperlanes."

A crash drew Aurellia's gaze towards the source of the noise, but through the crowds, she couldn't make out the source.

 

[Tohu]

Maybe Juniper was right -- maybe they didn't trust the guard enough. Still, it meant he'd just have to keep going through every bottle out of a thousand bottles, looking for that key. After the second dozen empty bottles, Tohu felt his drive slowly fade away. Whatever hidden loot the strong box may hold, as expensive as it might be, when he couldn't feel that thrill of the hunt, he was losing interest fast.

Juniper said, "Give me just a second," and Tohu turned to watch her. He saw her eyes go white, magenta flashing across them like some otherworldly lightning, and her mouth drop open wide. Something -- instinct, most likely -- pulled him a step away from her, but cat curiosity kept him from moving further back. His mind worked like a copycat -- good at picking up tricks, stealing moves -- but Juniper was somewhere else entirely; what she was doing, he couldn't even begin to grasp.

Tohu saw her chest begin to seize, and he took a bold step forward, closer to her. He wasn't sure what he could do; he was thinking maybe if she collapsed, he'd be able to catch her before her skull rings on the marble floor. But whatever had seized her let her loose a moment later, and she managed to catch herself on the rack, steadying her loose feet.

"Mon Calamari Deep Red," she said, voice low and steady, and pointed, "There." He half-turned to follow her guidance and saw the glossy sign on the third tier to his right saying Mon Calamari Deep Red 835ABY. He reached for it, pulled it out of the o-ring, and held it in his hand. He looked up to her again, watching her get better and better with each breath taken. Tohu let the silence hold for another few, long seconds before he broke it.

"That what they call the Force?" daring, remembering how easily that Jedi ( Corin Kaze ) had disposed of him like he was a piece of garbage.

Juniper Le Fey ​

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

"One doesn't want to be caught unawares with my husband plaguing the hyperlanes."

"Hnhm," grunted the fiery-haired monolith.

His gaze studied the brown-haired female, then her curly haired companion in turn, passing once over the thin, wiry frame, smooth skin, and manicured appearance. Gerra's chin jutted and the carved granite of his features shifted in a twitch of disapproval.

"Effete debutante," he pronounced simply, sucking a bit of grease left from the roast bird off his hand, supposing he could throw the boy king very far indeed.

His attention wandered elsewhere, as though bored of whatever witty retorts these nobles might trade. Clever words and scented perfume would do little if their paths crossed on the hyperlanes. The boy would make a fine slave for market, once broken. His gaze snapped in the direction of a sudden commotion, brow furrowing.

Could it be? Could something interesting be happening?

Aurellia Aurelian Veruna Bastila Sal-Soren

 

[Mara Aurelai]

Standing just at the edge of the throng crowding the Hall of Masters, Mara was draped in gold finery, a flute of pink champagne in her hand. Beside her another guest was talking excitedly about Hapan economics. Though she presumably understood none of it, the Ducha of Stalsinek smiled and nodded along so that she still appeared engrossed in the conversation. The only thing which could have interrupted the guest's yapping was a sufficiently dramatic event - like what was now happening over by the punch bowl. All eyes in the vicinity turned toward the source of the commotion. While her chatty companion left to see what was going on, Mara took the opportunity to mingle with the crowd.

The turnout for this wedding was noticeably less than the previous one. Perhaps the murder of the bride and groom had left a bad taste in everyone's mouth. Not to mention the assassination of Aurellia's predecessor, a wound which was still raw for many Hapans. Still, the new Chume's decision to secure her dynasty was wise. Hopefully they would soon be blessed with an heir.

As she walked past an alcove, her attention was drawn to a young woman who appeared to be choking on her drink. "Are you all right?" Mara asked, her concern genuine.

"Oh," she rasped to herself in recognition. "The covenant."

Mara blinked, not quite catching what the woman had said. "Pardon?"

Eurydice​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Fountain Palace, Hapes
Tags: Bastila Sal-Soren | Aurellia | Hasuras Na-Gerra | Quinn Varanin | Mauve du Vain

Aurelian kept his face calm as Bastila chatted with the new bride and her warlord. Yet, beneath the disciplined curve of his smile, his anger simmered. Across the opulent hall, past glittering chandeliers and a constant murmur of courtiers, his gaze found a familiar sight: a figure draped in silk, radiating a subtle menace. It was Mauve, and at her side, held like a trophy on a leash, stood the Sith Princess.

Oh. This was truly delightful. His lips twitched, a subtle movement between a smile and a sneer, as he watched the pair openly scrutinizing him and Bastila. Their audacity promised trouble, and Aurelian welcomed it. Perhaps this dreary ceremony would finally gain some bite. His hands moved instinctively, to settle firmly at Bastila's waist. He splayed his fingers, drawing her subtly closer, making sure everyone, especially those two across the room, saw precisely where she belonged and with whom. Let them stare. Let them scheme.

Aurelia's voice, a serpent's hiss cloaked in velvet, pulled him back. He turned, his dangerous smile blossoming fully, every aspect of his posture once more deliberate and controlled. Her words, though framed as approval, felt like a dagger sheathed in lace. He gave a slight nod, his gaze briefly touching the crimson titan beside her as he responded.

"It had become necessary," Aurelian replied smoothly, his tone firm yet restrained. "The Mid-Rim festers with shadows. Sith and terrorists wander freely, facing no consequences." His eyes settled on Hasuras, betraying no sign of unease at the monster's towering form. An impressive ornament, yes, but nothing more. Aurelian knew true power resided in the Queen Mother's smile.

Aurelian's head tilted slightly, mischief dancing in his eyes. "No," he murmured, almost to himself, an amused note in his voice. "It would be most unfortunate to cross your husband in the hyperlanes."

Then came the crash. A sound from beyond the dancers and sycophants, sharp enough to disrupt the entire revelry. Aurelian's smile widened, his teeth flashing subtly in the candlelight as he turned towards the disturbance.

"Ah," he drawled, his excitement impossible to hide. "Does the evening's entertainment finally begin?"

He glanced back at Aurelia, clearly a man who had just found a cure for his boredom.

​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

By the time she extracted herself from the remnants of the overturned table, Jaina's white dress was stained and splattered. But she had Entora Vaelor by the throat - and so far, no guard had moved to stop her.

Unable to move, the Ducha looked up at her attacker with indignation rather than fear. "You dare attack me?" she snarled. "I'll have your head mounted on my wall for this!"

"Aw, so you want to look at my mean mug forever? How flattering," Jaina replied, yellow eyes flashing dangerously. "I'll just cremate your remains after I kill you." She pulled back her other fist. "This is for Aramis."

"My husband sent you?!" Entora exclaimed in disbelief.

"He's not your husband anymore, schutta!" Jaina grinned mockingly. "Aramis is mine now. And I'm adopting the kid, too. Little Lalu is gonna grow up free of you and all of this. But first, I'm gonna kill you. Right in front of all your twisted friends."

Entora's face was nearly purple with rage. Jaina was happy to make it even more purple with bruises, when the Ducha suddenly shouted, "Wait! I-I challenge you to a duel!"

Jaina blinked. Her first instinct was to refuse the challenge and move on to beating Entora to a pulp. But then again, where was the fun in that? Plus, all these people were standing around watching. It wouldn't look as cool if she just started whaling on a skinny broad in the middle of the party. "All right. What are the terms?" she asked, lowering her fist.

"Winner takes all. If I win, I get Aramis and Lalu."

"And if I win?" Jaina prompted.

"You can have Aramis," Entora sneered. "Everything that is mine will go to Lalu."

Jaina didn't have to think about it for too long. "Deal." She released the Ducha. "But we're doing this now."

"Very well." Rubbing her throat, Entora nodded toward the nearest exit. "Outside, in the courtyard. We will fight there."

 

[Adrikobe Kellrule]

These kinds of social events were made for a man such as Adrikobe.
His attendance was practically mandatory, given the charity work he'd done for Hapes at his own Gala.

He lingered near the edge of the hall, making small-talk with a handful of patrons, though, none who particularly caught his interest.

Resting his hands behind his back, he surveyed the room, and felt a shock about as intense as a seismic charge.
He observed Isur and his... 'date', if that were the word to describe the eldritch abomination he had just laid eyes on.

Where many would feel the strong urge to projectile vomit at such the sight, Adrikobe simply saw an interesting opportunity. He wanted attention, but the good kind. He wanted the attention warranted to daredevils, hosts, larger-than-life figures, etc. After all, he was a man well known for his extravagant displays.
Maintaining his gatsbyesque persona, he took a moment to prepare himself (internally pondering if this stunt was even worth it), before approaching the well-dressed Karkarodon & Sauvax.

Arriving at the bar, he quickly took notice of Isur 's current status. He knew the fish-man was probably going to miss half of what he said anyway (a third, if he were lucky), and thus decided to focus on the... 'woman'.

"Don't you know it's awfully rude to upstage the bride at her own wedding?" He stated with a certain coquettish tone to his voice, boldly taking the Sauvax's 'hand', and giving it a formal kiss. Internally, he felt as if he had just kissed the wet corpse of a rotting womprat, yet, it was still somehow dry and hard. Thankfully, he'd been through worse, or otherwise he would've lost the fine wine he had just finished drinking.

He then turned his attention to the practically inebriated giant fish, and bowed his head slightly, before speaking again:

"You're a lucky man." He stated, continuing with: "Might I inquire as to what brings you both here? I'm simply left in awe as to why."

 

[Vestra Tane]

Tag: Anet Raine Aurellia Aurelian Veruna Bastila Sal-Soren Hasuras Na-Gerra

Distractions all dealt with, Vestra offered her companion a smile before they entered the main hallway together. And in that hallway...

Things were proceeding about as well as could be hoped, upon initial observation. Though fewer duels seemed to have broken out than she'd expected - only one, judging by the scene over at the punch bowl. Something about an affair? Vestra failed to understand why most couples only came to blows when the relationship was failing. A brawl or two every now and then kept the romance alive, as far as she was concerned. Perhaps whoever had been unfaithful would've been less so given a bit more spice in the relationship.

And speaking of relationships sure to be full of spice, it was time to greet the happy couple.

Hasuras Na-Gerra was nearly impossible to mistake for anyone else, especially on a planet full of five-foot-somethings, and Vestra was sufficiently cultured to recognize the Queen of Hapes and the King of Naboo by sight. The fourth woman's identity escaped her, but her presence in the Force set Vestra on edge. There was a sickly-sweet serenity to her that reeked of Jedi. Or perhaps some other, equally irritating Light cult - it would be foolish to judge prematurely.

"Gerra!"

The Sith snatched a flute of something alcoholic from a passing servant just in time to raise it in greeting and almost immediately knock it back. In truth, she'd only met the man once, and then in passing; but he was a fellow Sith, and that fact alone ensured he would prove either a reliable ally or, more likely, an exceptional enemy. Either way, that merited familiarity.

"Apologies for the delay," Vestra offered a bow to Gerra and Aurellia both, once she had pushed her way past the guests and servants between herself and the quartet. Whether Anet was still attached to her arm depended entirely on her willingness to put up with being dragged through a crowd. "We would've been here sooner, but the guards were very skittish about the gifts."

To the Republican nobles present, she offered only a polite nod of the head and a smile that held almost no malice. There would be time for banter with the king and his army candy after the initial formalities.

​

 

[Anet Raine]

Anet followed Vestra Tane in, content to remain arm candy at this time, rather than pay much attention to her surroundings. She even missed the scuffle at the punch bowl.

Her eyes were too busy soaking in the image of Hasuras Na-Gerra and his bride-to-be, the Hapan Queen Mother, Aurellia . The Prince of--

No, that's right, he's a king now.

--King of Naboo was present, too. The scholar was less informed about southern affairs than some, but she recognized Aurelian Veruna from news and bounty board alike. The half-arkanian mused herself the possibility of collecting were that the life she led. At a glance, it may have appeared she was offering the man a flirtatious half-smile, rather than engaging in a bit of 'maladaptive' daydreaming.

Anet approached alongside Vestra and offered a bow to the prospective power couple, but not before finally untangling herself from the acolyte's arm.

"What my friend here means to say is that we are grateful for the invitation. We shall not spoil the night with mentions of gifts until they are meant to be received, isn't that right, Miss Tane?"

She said it rather scoldly, but Anet knew how to deliver such remarks with a bit of ditz behind it.

 

[Bastila Sal-Soren]

Bastila​

Bastila inclined her head to the Queen Mother, the precision of her bow intended to allow the royal to measure every line. Companion. The compliment may have been a barb wrapped in velvet, but Bastila met it with the best defence she could, a smile.

“The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty,” she said, voice carrying just enough to thread through the hush. “Perhaps we can exchange family stories at a later time of your convenience. The last time one of my line stood in this building, there was murder and we nearly very accidently inherited the throne. Fortunately those days are far behind.” She kept her face polite and calm, it wasn’t a threat or even an insult. Just a girl sharing her stories.

The Queen's newly entwinned husband's growl rolled over her next, his judgment blunt and unadorned. Bastila smiled, faint and inscrutable, letting the insult pass as though it had not touched her. But her eyes caught his for a fraction of a second, making sure they were steady and unyielding. A look that said she had been called worse by greater monsters and was still standing.

“Hyperlanes must be defended, how else could we call ourselves a Republic? And It is fortunate that Naboo does not send its Sons and its daughters unprepared into shadows.” The words were smooth, amiss from tone, but not in meaning, they knew she was likely a Jedi, the name alone would ensure that. She raised her glass lightly, as if to seal the point with courtesy, though her gaze lingered on Aurellia’s eyes for a heartbeat too long.

The crash behind them rippled tension through the hall. Aurelian’s hand at her waist tightened, drawing her subtly closer. She did not resist; instead, she leaned into the contact. Let them see. Let the courtiers whisper. She followed the King’s eyes that had darted off to their side.

And then she saw her.

Varanin. The Princess who the Jedi Order believed was the next in line for the Sith Throne, cutting through the crowd like silk, another, a Zeltron by the looks, at her side like shadow and flame. Bastila’s smile did not falter, but her pulse sharpened. The gaze was aimed at her, the appraising, hungry weight of it settling on her like a fog. The Woman’s presence was unmistakable, her Force signature sour against Bastila’s senses, her smile promising no refuge. Her fingers tightened imperceptibly on the stem of her glass, her body shifting almost unconsciously closer into Aurelian.

“And it seems,” she said softly, pitched for Aurelian’s ear in the guise of a warm, private regard between them, “This throne has more than just snakes coiling around its influence.”

Tags: Aurelian Veruna Quinn Varanin Mauve du Vain Aurellia Vestra Tane Anet Raine Hasuras Na-Gerra​

 

[Aurellia]

Hasuras Na-Gerra | Aurelian Veruna | Bastila Sal-Soren | Vestra Tane | Anet Raine

​

Prattling on about shadows and terrors was the same old boring Aurellia had come to expect from any member of a democracy with an order of light at hand. Bastila's mention of a previous wedding raised an eyebrow, though before she could pull her away from her date, newcomers were on them. Black Sun's players weren't as easy to know as those of the Republic's, but she recognized Vestra from a detailing Mercy had offered. The plus one was an unknown, but merited a smile.

"Polite." The Queen Mother nodded approvingly. "Oh, but now you've piqued my curiosity, especially if my guards were giving you trouble, Miss Tane. Well, I shall have to be patient. May I introduce to you King Veruna of Naboo and Lady Bastila Sal-Soren?"

The crowds around them had thinned, with a healthy stream now feeding into the courtyard. When the queen looked to her aid, the woman leaned to whisper in Aurellia's ears, and the word duel could clearly be seen crossing her lips.

"Forgive me. I must excuse myself to deal with this. There shall be a show in the courtyard, it seems."

As the Queen Mother turned, orders were given to see that the ducha and this... mistress had weapons as they saw fit, but no armor. The aid scampered off to dutifully oblige. One hand reached for Gerra's hulking arm, to pull him away from the group that had formed.

"A duel. Some quarrel over a man." Aurellia's eyes may have rolled into the next system if they weren't in her head. "I need to powder my nose. Be a dear and serve as arbiter?"

It was not trust that drove the question, but if one of the women acted out of turn, Gerra could easily take care of it. The duel was sacred, after all, it's rules demanding they be closely followed - and it would keep him busy for a time.

 

[Juniper Le Fey]

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She watched him work the cork out, tilt the bottle, and shake the key free into his hand. One step closer. The only price so far was the pounding headache thrumming behind her eyes, sharp enough to make her wince when she thought too hard. Those came and went with time. Tonight, it was just part of the game. A wedding, a stranger, a locked box tucked away in some forgotten cellar, she lived for moments like this. Even if the strongbox turned out to be full of junk, it would still make for a good story over a glass of whiskey someday.

While Tohu bent over the lock, working the key into place, Juniper steadied her breathing and tried to push through the fog the vision had left behind. "Something like that," she said at last, airy tone covering the weight underneath. "I'm half Kiffar. Some of us have a knack for seeing the memories stuck to objects. Useful, but it comes at a price." She tapped the side of her temple with one nail, a flash of magenta still lingering in her gaze. "Hurts like hell if you're not careful."

Her eyes drifted back to the strongbox, then to him, sharp and expectant. "Well?" she asked. "Are you going to open it?"

 

[Tohu]

"Well?" Juniper asked, "Are you going to open it?" and Tohu realized he'd been standing with the key inside the lock, doing nothing but listening to what she was saying. Psychometry, that's what it was, he recalled; it was on some book he'd dozed off in school on the few times he'd not been absent.

Tohu said, "Right. Yeah." and turned the key sideways. The lock unlatched with a click, and he opened the small, thick metal door of the safe box. What he saw inside could've been worth a smile or a sigh. He was still figuring it out.

Juniper Le Fey

Jerec Asyr - giving you the honors (delegating because we are poor creatives) to tell us what's inside the safebox.​

 

[Mauve du Vain]

“She looks like she needs some fun in her evening," Quinn said, smirking as she started forward toward the pair. Her eyes didn't stray from Bastila Sal-Soren.

“Oh she definitely does.”

Mauve followed in the Echani’s wake, happy to be her shadow. She’d seen far too many faces that she recognized from dossiers. Lethality lurked everywhere around her. Thankfully, she had Quinn.

Not that she wanted the woman to take another bullet for her. Or knife. Or lightsaber. She preferred her princesses mostly unharmed, thank you.

The two of them glided forward and with every step she felt a growing urge to punch that filthy Naboo king right in the nose. Such a smug bastard. She couldn’t believe he was still alive after all the stops she’d pulled out to ensure his demise. Like a persistent cockroach.

Mauve shifted her attention to the preening beauty on the king’s arm, locking eyes with Bastila Sal-Soren . A coy, slightly shy smile spread across the Zeltron’s plum-painted lips.

Quinn Varanin Aurelian Veruna Aurellia

 

[Juniper Le Fey]

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The box opened to a curious Juniper and Tohu. It was just a guard's strongbox, but you never knew, sometimes scraps turned into something worth the trouble. When the lid tipped back, though, it wasn't much fanfare. A credit pot from the guard's gambling hustle, a couple of cigars, and a well-worn sabacc deck. Whoever owned it would notice fast enough when their stash came up light. That wasn't much of a concern for Juniper. By the time they put it together, she planned to be very far away. She doubted she or Tohu would be worth the chase.

"Not much worth it," she muttered, voice low, not quite annoyed but hardly impressed. She shifted the junk around, ready to toss half of it aside, when a sharp jingle caught her ear. Her hand dug deeper, fingers curling around something cool and metallic. She pulled out an ignition fob, holding it up between two fingers with a that mischivious grin. "I stand corrected." Her eyes narrowed, already sketching out what kind of trouble they could stir with it. "Looks like somebody's been joyriding the palace toys." She slipped it into her coat, casual as ever, then went back to picking through the rest.

"You take the credits. I'll take the deck," she said, lifting the sabacc cards with a satisfied flick. "Been looking for a new one anyway." She tucked it away and reached back into the box, this time pulling free a flimsi-cam, a little holocam rigged to spit out instant flimsiplast prints. Juniper's smirk spread as she weighed it in her hand. "Let's leave them something to find." Without waiting for an answer, she slid an arm around Tohu 's shoulder and angled the cam, the two of them caught in the lens a heartbeat before the shutter snapped.

 

[Tohu]

Juniper didn't leave him much choice, snatching that sabacc deck, saying how it's gonna go, how it's gonna be. Tohu had wanted it -- the gambler that he was -- but he sure as hell wasn't about to argue over it with her; he'd come for what he needed -- that cooking smut recipe book or whatever it was Razmir wanted -- so he took the credits and shoved them in his pockets.

He gave a nasty grin at the cam just as its lightning flashed, and then they were out of there, leaving the flimsiplast print of their selfie inside the lockbox. Minutes later, they were riding into the sunset on a slick Hapan speeder vehicle, headed for the starport, laughing at some stupid joke they heard on the radio.
​

The End.

Juniper Le Fey ​