Stars, hide your fires

[Loske Treicolt]

Balosar ​

Moodhttps://open.spotify.com/track/5lWRaa0fBxDE5yU91npPq7?si=SJJOYw0KR6O2gmJJRWwKpg​

[SIZE=11pt]“This is a fill stop..” The pilot of the parked vessel explained, exchanging credits from her personal pouch to the attendant’s. The Balosar nodded, unhooking the pump from its station and dragging it out toward the belly of her personal ship. Unhinging a small component of the ship’s stomach, no wider than a fist, the nose of the pump disappeared into the build of the ship and the attendant fastened the pipe to stand on its own. Then, he leaned against the hull, folding his arms across the breast of his coveralls. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“So..fill ‘er up?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Mhm.” The girl nodded, surprised that was a question based on the amount of credits that had just been exchanged. In the meantime, Loske pulled the collar of her shirt over her nose and looked at the thick umbrella of clouds above them. This planet had only been a part of her plans to fill up, and get out, and then continue back into the great vacuum of the unknown. Frank had warned her about the pollution levels, but she felt insulting wearing a breathing mask in front of the locals. Now, she was trying to filter her air through the fibres of her T-Shirt. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]From one of his many pockets, the attendant took out a stick and placed it between his fingers. It was the colour of a radioactive lemon, and Loske’s mouth twitched. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Uhm, should you be lighting that so closely to fuel?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Ay chicka, your bucket’ll be fine.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Loske was about to object, and defend her ship, when the attendant put the stick away hurriedly and modified his body language to look less idle. She followed his gaze to a civilian vessel to their left, on the next bay. There were a group of people, some with antennanapalps twitching wildly, others with concerned faces, all pushing into the lowered ramp of a bulky transport. There was an agitated hum of voices coming from the throng, indistinct, but the tone clear enough. They were fraught with anxiety, and rightly so. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A group of svelte individuals, with sinister expressions and onyx clothing marched up to the group of civilians. Straining, Loske could barely pick up what they were saying. She reached up to her ear “Frank, can you increase the range of my audio receptors?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]There was a moment of silence, and then a snapping sound right in her ears as she caught the tail end the sentence coming from the deep voice of one of the black-wearing folks. They were demanding that the civilians declare any Jedi concealed within their group. Loske, the observer, scoffed. If a Jedi were in that group, they’d probably have sacrificed themselves by now. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The demanding trio didn’t seem to understand that, and were now wedging their way into the group, shouldering people aside and demanding to see credentials. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Is this normal?” The blonde asked the humanoid in coveralls, who was now attempting to speed up the process of filling up her tank so he could vacate the area. He shrugged and shook his head hurriedly, hardly paying attention to the offworlder. “Is that the hangar security force?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Not our security force, no.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She dropped the T-Shirt from covering her nose, and quickened her steps toward the altercations taking place on the other hangar. Ever the nosy involver (she got it from her mama), Loske intruded, extending a palm to show she intended to interrupt “Hey - what’s happening over here?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A blaster was drawn on her quicker than she would have liked, and a beam of plasma fired past the left side of her waist. “Holy kark - you guys aren’t playing around.” She muttered, not expecting this violent of a reaction to a simple question. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The next handful of moments was a bit of a blur. Loske had made a decision to be the arbiter, the decision-and-commitment aptitude of her father imbuing her movements as she darted. The rest was memory and reality blending together in a flurry of manifestations that a trained eye would recognize as [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Iron Fist. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Without brandishing a weapon, the blonde stood, a pant on her breath, while the three harassers were knotted in confusion on the ground; knocked out. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Get on this transport and get out of here. They’re too interested in you to let you go easily.” Loske instructed, hoping some sort of captain figure would hear. Something inside her made her gut clench, and gave her a bad feeling. This wasn’t over.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“This is just a transport..we don’t have defensive weapons.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A woman pulled up to Loske, her hands on the shoulder of a small, pale girl. The rest of the civilians loaded into the belly of the ship, being swallowed by the inside. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“My daughter,” she whispered “That’s who they’re after. They saw her using telekinesis on our way here. She’s not a Jedi..but…..” the woman was hinting at what could be. And begging Loske to protect what that future may evidence. The pilot’s azure gaze drifted downward to the girl, who stood thigh-high with brilliant green eyes and a twitching antennae. She looked terrified. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Loske exhaled softly, and gave a small nod. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I’ll provide cover to get you out of the atmosphere so you can make a safe jump. Open your comm channels to the frequency marked Blue.[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The captain, or, who she assumed was the captain, gave a relieved nod and scuttled away. The mother also mouthed an earnest [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Thank You [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]before turning to be swallowed by the hull of the ship and the ramp closing. Small Klaxons started to ring from the bodies of the aggressors, and she stooped to read the broadcast being relayed -- whoever these bad guys were with, they were deploying TIE fighters. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Aggressive. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Alright Frank, start firing us up. We’re on escort service.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]It sounds the opposite of sexy when you say it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“That’s because you know what I mean. There’s just no mystery in our relationship anymore.” The blonde quipped, emphasizing a faux sigh and waving at the attendant who had pulled the plug. She could hear her own ship coming to live with the pre-checks her astromech was running, getting it ready for her to take over. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Navigating into the cockpit, she buckled in and locked a friendly target on the read of the civilian ship. No sooner had she done that, and their thrusters flared for a poorly executed takeoff. She cringed, engaging her own thrusters. Her landing gear retracted and she hovered above the landing pad, waiting for the ship she was following to get enough distance for her to thrust forward after it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She glanced down at the screen, seeing and accepting the communication request from the cvillian frequency. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Two red boxes blinked on her screen. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“You’ve already got two bogies on your four and six.” Loske commented, keeping her distanced position and locking her ranges on the incoming vessels. For now, she still looked like she was parked. “Give yourself some space and I’ll clip them for you.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Light eyes watched as the civilian transport mustered as much as it could with its throttles, awkwardly leaping forward in the sky with a hurried lurch. It would be no match for the death-eyes that were TIE fighters. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]From above the docking bay, the black spheres came screaming; firing recklessly in the direction of the transport. Loske kicked into gear, her ship blasting upward and forward and coming up behind the duo of death. She had them locked, and despite their firing on the transport, two pulses of her trigger finger and her ion cannons had made a connection. A blossoming explosion of flames evidenced behind the transport that had propelled itself out of the planet’s shield and looked ready to make the jump. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Piece of cake, Frankie.” [/SIZE]

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Darius found himself hating most foreign planets. This one was no exception.

For a few brief hours, the exile had found isolation. It was his chosen state; his natural balance, and recent events had deprived him of that balance. The mood of the exiles had been uplifted somewhat with the mass funeral, and Darius had put on a brave face for his compatriots, but privately he wasn't dealing with the situation as well as he might have hoped. He wasn't a leader, nor did he care for the spotlight: that role was suited more for the Starchasers and the Graysons of the galaxy. His position within the natural order was that of an observer, and he had been pulled into the center of the madness. It was a wonder he hadn't lost his sanity yet.

The aethersprite drifted silently through the void. He allowed himself to enjoy the momentary silence, his mind drifting off to thoughts of what he might do once this conflict finally came to an end. Officially he was orbiting Balosar to make sure the last of the refugees made it off planet unbothered, which was indeed true, but privately he had taken the assignment to get away from his colleagues. One could only promise everyone that things were going to be okay so many times before they grew resentful of the question.

"It would be our luck that we'd end up on a toxic chit-hole like this," the exile mumbled to his wingman. The X-wing that floated aimlessly next to his own ship had come for the sake of necessity. It was fortunate that the Sullustan pilot wasn't much of a talker. Darius received nothing save for an exasperated grunt in reply.

"It's a wonder anyone would want to live on this planet, let alone claim it for their own empires," he continued, content to more or less talk to himself. "Hey hold on, I'm picking up something odd. Energy signatures that certainly aren't from sublight engines," Darius's brow furrowed as he double-checked the readings. A radial scan of the area revealed a handful of ships arraying themselves at the jump point leading away from the system, and a number of energy signatures identical to those of Imperial Ties were cropping up from that general area.

"Looks like trouble. You set?"

"Yep." The Sullustan finally spoke.

Wasting little further time, the twin ships darted off in the direction of the supposed chaos. The sight they beheld was surprising, but welcome. The sources of those rogue energy signatures were rolling silently through the void, bouts of lightning flurrying along the black plated wings indicating an ion blast. Whomever had done this had the mind to spare the pilots - quite the oddity.

"You see that Sully?" Darius gestured toward the TIEs, as if his companion could see the gesture. "Pull back and search the area for any more trouble makers. I'm reading another ship, too small to be a transport. Might be our benevolent friend."

The X-wing pulled off without a word from its pilot. Darius flipped a few switches on the ship's console, and the vessel's stealth systems disengaged shortly thereafter. The small black ship coalesced in the void as its stygium generators went offline.

Curious, Darius wasted little time in hailing the foreign vessel.

"Hey there. I'm friendly; I take it you might be the one giving the imps a taste of their own medicine?" He asked, his voice slightly modulated over the connection.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

[SIZE=11pt]Someone was signalling her, and it wasn’t the transport. And it most certainly weren’t those TIES. Given the quietness of the skies, she accepted. The introduction was made. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Hi friendly, I’m Blue.” She abbreviated her callsign for the sake of the joke. Meanwhile, she extended the range of her scanners to detect the X-Wing further out from her hovering [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]S.S Bruno. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Why were X-Wings out here? Was she in a hot zone? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Yeah, that’s me. Did I take your job?”[/SIZE]

[member="Darius Sedaire"]

 

[Cedric Grayson]

“Good to meet you Blue,” Darius found himself amused at the rather mundane conversation, given the circumstances they found themselves in. That amusement colored his words with pleasant gratitude.

“I’d say you did, though I wasn’t getting paid for it, so I suppose I can let it slide this time.” There was a sneer from the pilot of the X-Wing. Darius elected to ignore it.

“Sully, can you run retrieval on those TIE’s? I’d like to have a word with the pilots later.” He added, keen to make it so that only his wingman might hear those words. A flip of a switch opened the comm channel back up to ‘Blue’.

“Thanks for taking care of the Imps. Not sure we would have been fast enough to save the transport when they started firing,” he paused, a curiously thought forcing itself to the forefront of his mind. He doubted the Imps would make a move on another transport anytime soon, and he supposed it wouldn’t be too much trouble to indulge his curiosity.

If this woman was skilled enough to take on imperial pilots, it was possible she might be privy as to their activities in the area. Any information helped in times as desperate as these; the location of a few erstwhile TIE’s could save lives.

“There’s a fleet carrier on the other side of the planet. It’s New Republic - if you’ve the time, we could make our way there and I could see about getting you compensation for this service,” he gestured toward the inert imperial vessels, as if she could actually see his movements.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"New Republic?" Loske mouthed, near inaudibly to her droid companion. On cue, Frank ran a search and defaulted into a mundane drawl of explanation: In the aftermath of the fall of the Galactic Republic, not all of her forces went to bolster the Alliance. Some, the brave few, instead chose to head to Wild Space, seeking old worlds that had once allied themselves with the Republic of the pre-Palpatine era.

In comprehension, the clone warrior bobbed her head. A few extra credits in her pocket wouldn't hurt, but it was more checking out the digs of some who had a similar mission to what had been the Galactic Alliance, without the title. She didn't need to say anything about doubt being the ultimate brake in the skies -- hopefully their other X-Wing pilots had a bit more gusto and self assurance.

Warily, she clicked her comm channel back to respond to [member="Darius Sedaire"] "Sure, nothing like a scenic tour of the gasses from above. I've got your mark, I'll follow you."

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The break from Darius's somewhat self-imposed isolation was not entirely welcome, but he was ever the positive sort. If nothing else, he could at the very least encourage this pilot - Blue she called herself - to continue gunning down the Republic's pursuers. The Force knew that they were lacking in the manpower to sufficiently hold back the imperial tide. Had it been a single empire targeting them, things might not have been so bleak. Unfortunately the imperials had gotten smart and formed an imperial-bloc, and were seemingly united in their mutual desire to purge the galaxy of normal, decent people.

The exile forced such thoughts away as he guided Blue toward a lone carrier that hung on the edge of the system. A number of vessels of varying classifications flitted about the large ship, each moving to respond to threats that were being marked actively throughout the system. They couldn't save every transport, but they would do what they could.

"You'll have to forgive our rather disorganized look. Things are in a state of flux right now," Darius intoned as he brought his aethersprite into one of the carrier's many hanger bays. The slick black fighter settled down upon the durasteel floor with the grace of a living creature, its canopy popping open as Darius dropped himself onto the deck.

"Chaos, really," he added, a gloved hand waving at Blue as her vessel would come on the approach.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

As the bulkier, modified starfighter followed the X-Wing over the piercing buildings of Balosar, Loske kept her scanners active and shields up. She was literally following this unknown ship into the belly of the beast. When Frank was truly miffed, he just beeped angrily at her. This was such an instance. To counter, Loske simply turned up the medley of glimmik beats in her cockpit.

The fact that [member="Darius Sedaire"] continued to smoothly transition an explanation as they neared the carrier was oddly comforting. She nodded along, letting her gaze drift upward, assessing the ship's build as if someone was showing her around a parking lot for purchase. Large ships always gave her a sense of comfort; exposed in a smaller vessel like her aircraft and the T-70s she'd been trained in were pure exposure. Adrenaline. Large ships were beacons.

The onyx vehicle perused to a landing, and she engaged her own repulsers to counter the gentle forward of her own thrusters. She flicked a few toggles on the dashboard to activate the landing gear and settle S.S Blue to the hangar's floor. She hadn't made a landing into a durasteel welcome like this since Corellia. A pang of longing tugged at her gut.

The wings of the Nubian modified transport sloped slightly, in accordance with the landing gear, and there was a soft hiss as the canopy of her cockpit raised and a ramp extended outward from the floor. Far more elegant an entrance than she used to have, what with an awkward distance to spring from the nose of a fighter to the floor. She could even sashay a bit now, should the mood strike.

Frank rolled out behind her, hot on her heels.

She snapped an elastic from her wrist and twisted it above her head, gathering her tresses together into a bound ponytail as she let her gaze wander around. Familiarizing. Marking exits. Assessing.

"If I forgive the mess, that makes us even for you forgiving me for stealing your job earlier.

Why the chaos?"

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Were it that Darius had not taken his Jedi vows, he might have had something of an entirely different sort to say to Blue as she stepped down from her ship. He quickly forced such intrusive thoughts aside: they did not serve him, but rather sought to make him a slave as they did the Sith. They were forgotten as quickly as they had made themselves known.

The masked Jedi Knight observed her vessel curiously now that he could actually get a good look at it. It was unlike any ship he had seen previously, but then he was not the most educated when it came to the myriad vessels darting about the void. The age old Aethersprites had always done everything he needed from a ship without much trouble; what was the point of looking into other ships when he already had perfection?

"We'll call it square then," his voice was slightly modulated by his mask when not speaking over the comm. It still sounded like him, but there was a warped effect to it that made his words sound almost unnatural. Such had been the intention.

"I'm not surprised you haven't heard. The Imps have been proven themselves particularly adept at keeping information from spreading in areas they seek to control," Darius began to explain as he leaned about to get a look at the droid following behind Blue. "The short of it is that the New Republic has more or less fallen. That would be horrible on its own, were it not for the death squads the imperial bloc seems intent on flooding Republic space with. I've been working with my peers to organize mass evacuations from endangered zones. Anyone that seeks to escape the coming imperial fist has been welcomed to join us."

He paused, a hint of embarrassment entering his tone, "I'm Darius by the way."

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Her brow quirked when the mask remained on. She'd recognized it, but she thought there was just a delay in taking it off -- maybe [member="Darius Sedaire"]' life support wasn't fully functional in his ship? Maybe he was hyper sensitive to the pollution on Balosar? That could still be case, but the faux atmosphere the hangar provided would mitigate any sort of toxic effect from the planet. Her rabbit hole of thoughts were interrupted by the explanation of The Empire suppressing The Republic. Seemed a trend, as of late, that the Good Guys no longer had the upper hand.

"Sounds like the Alliance in Exile." Loske murmured, tapping her lip in consideration as Frank ran scans of their area; rendering a topographical inference of the ship they were now stationed within.

"A bit of a motley crew, but good within their departments.

There were a group of aggressors on the ground, before the shuttle took off, they seemed to be seeking Jedi within groups. Is The Empire on an extermination quest? If they can dispense a handful of resources to a random world like Balsor.." she shuddered slightly. The only thing here was the drug trafficking. It would be nieve of her to think The Empire wouldn't want their hands dirtied by getting into that realm. "I'm assuming you already have courses plotted for other planets running evacuations?"

She paused, offering a simper in his direction when he evidenced his real name. "Darius is probably better than me just calling you Friendly for this whole encounter."

 

[Cedric Grayson]

She was right on that one.

Memories of his time within the Galactic Alliance came and went. He had spent his childhood there, training beneath the watchful eye of of Master Julius Sedaire. He wished he could say such childhood memories were wholly pleasant, but the rise of the imperial powers had colored his time there with violence. It seemed the human mind rushed to recall traumatic memories before it could bring up the pleasant ones: something Darius personally considered a design flaw in humanity's genetic makeup.

"We're about the same honestly, though I've lost most of my connections to the Alliance. I was a padawan there a lifetime ago," he replied wistfully, momentarily lost in the nostalgia. "Though I'll admit our people aren't as hardened as the Alliance. Most of our leaders were killed in the earliest attacks. Many of the people you'll see here are entirely green. Brothers, sisters, daughter, and sons that volunteered after the loss of their families." He gestured toward the dozens of sentients hurrying about the hanger. The majority of them were indeed quite young, some of them at an age where they should be worrying about grades and members of the opposite sex, and less about an encroaching doom.

Unfortunately the galaxy was not so kind as to grant them normalcy.

"That sounds like the Odacai," Darius said with disgust as he began walking toward one of the corridors that led into the bowels of the ship. He waved for Blue and her droid to follow. "They're augmented soldiers, and I can tell you personally that they are more than capable of taking on a Jedi. Intelligence reports have told me that their forces have been spread seemingly at random throughout the core. If we raised significant military forces to stop them, it's likely the Sith would simply drop the full force of their fleets on us. Our only option is to regroup," he paused, "We do. We've managed to get the majority of those that wished to escape away from the Republic's lead worlds - now we're on something of a journey away from the core. We're still discussing the ultimate destination."

From the sound of his voice, one could infer he was smiling. "I've never been one for monikers," he lied, "What would suit you Blue? Credits, fuel, weapons? Name your reward and I'll see what I can do."

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

The reality of militia was evidenced the more her masked escort spoke, and Loske empathized a somber expression. The relentlessness of evil was an exhausting emotional toll. The family titles that had been spoken made her heart swell. Family was one of the most important things to Loske. For her first two years out of the lab and in the real world, she'd felt she had none so she'd made her own amongst Rogue Squadron and other Alliance platoons. Her friends were as dear to her as her would-have-been siblings. When she found out about her brother, and semi-biological parents, she'd never wanted to let them go. The thought of people losing their loved ones, the ones they'd had the chance to grow up with and share memories together...

She changed the subject.

"Dope name." Loske acknowledged of the oppressors she'd wiped out. She felt a small swell of pride when [member="Darius Sedaire"] explained they could contend with Jedi, the most exalted of all warriors, easily. And she'd taken out three with her fists. Although, that was no surprise either. She had literally been bred for war. If she hadn't been deemed a failed experiment, she could easily have been one of millions that looked just like her. Too bad she couldn't handle The Force.

"I kind of like them." The pilot countered to the dismissal of aliases. "Especially when they're given. There's always a story behind them, or, at least there's a story behind the good ones. That can always be telling about who you're with; which is helpful for squadrons taking flight, considering the rate of pilot turnover." She eased a realistic smile to the surface of her lips. The casualties in dog fights were vast, that's why most pilots spent their time on land living extreme situations. It could always be their last. They were adrenaline junkies.

When he offered a prize for her support, she gave him an incredulous look. "After The New Republic families devastated story, you're still suggesting you have something to offer me?" She held up a firm palm. "Please. I'd feel like an Odacai robber if I took anything from you now. Just call me a bleeding heart, satisfied in only the payment of success."

Frank tweeted a verbal eye roll.

"I'd only accept some snacks - and only because adrenaline makes me hungry." Nothing like firing up the ion cannons on an empty stomach.

 

[Cedric Grayson]

"Dope name." Blue had said.

Darius raised an eyebrow, and found himself somewhat thankful for the mask he wore. He had trouble hiding his reactionary facial expressions, and the steel visage helped to keep his internal thoughts from being transparent on his face. Even still, he'd never heard the word 'dope' used in any manner other than to refer to spice. Was she saying the Odacai were spice fiends? Did they ship the good stuff? Force only knew.

He found himself curious as she spoke of monikers and their meanings. There had been a time when he hid behind such things; they had allowed him to retain anonymity whilst performing his work for the Jedi Shadows. Since his great failure, he had shed himself of any special names or titles, choosing simply to go by the name his master had given him. He no longer deserved the honor of such things.

"That does make a bit of sense," Darius replied, sounding like he was hesitant to admit such. "I was once called the Voidwalker. It was as much a title as a means of hiding my own identity. Times have changed though, and so far as the galaxy knows, the Voidwalker is dead."

He was surprised at his own words. The exile had not spoken of his time as the Voidwalker to a single soul - this talk of monikers had stirred something within him that wished to be heard. Wary that Blue might want to pry into what the title meant, he spoke abruptly.

"We've got sweet rolls and this weird brown slop the cooks keep giving us. I have no idea what it is, but it tastes vaguely of lemons." Taking the cue, Darius made a turn down one of the shp's many corridors that led to the vessel's interior. They found themselves in a nearly empty mess hall a few minutes later.

"That's kind of you," he added after a moment's thought, "Not asking for a reward, I mean. Most would take whatever they could get their hands on." The exile sauntered up to the feed line, and waved toward one of the cooks.

A female toydarian so overweight that she could no longer fly came waddling up to stare at the two humans. "Ya want tha' slop robe boy?"

Darius breathed an audible sigh. "Got any sweet rolls?"

"One left."

"Kark."

A few moments of awkward silence hung in the air, before Darius sighed once again, and shook his head in defeat. "I'll take the slop, she'll have the sweet roll," he waved a hand toward Blue.

"Eugh-huh." The Toydarian grunted as she slid the sweet roll across the table. She then plopped a mound of brown, vaguely solid food that resembled nutrient paste onto Darius's tray. " 'Ave a good one robey!"

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

While they walked, Frank continued to take passive scans for an internalized blueprint of the ship. Helpful if they ever lost their robed guide..or if they ever wanted to build their own. Loske found she could only shrug when he suggested that her dismissal to a reward was something that was kind. She'd just felt a payment for intuition unnecessary. "I guess that's what makes the galaxy go 'round... all walks of life. If everyone reacted the same way, the galaxy would be a very different place." By now, she was picking up a tray like the others in line that they joined, sliding it along until they met the alien woman. "Food for thought, I guess."

Her ears perked at the sound of something called a sweet roll. Somewhat less appetizing with the presentation, but she thankfully placed it to her tray and backed away from the line. Azure gaze fixated on the slop, watching it quiver with each step [member="Darius Sedaire"] took.

"Selfless measures," with that, she gestured at her sweet roll versus his brown glob on their respective trays, "Robes, mysterious code names.. what's your role with the New Republic Mr. Darius Voidwalker?"

Blonde tresses quivered in her ponytail as she gave an indicative nod to an empty area on the benches for them to sit down.

 

[Cedric Grayson]

That was a very good question.

Darius did not answer her immediately, momentarily thanking his mask for the seconds of anonymity it provided him. His role within the Republic had proven itself floaty and chaotic to define; he was no ordained leader, but many of the people looked to him for guidance anyway. He supposed it had more to do with the lightsaber hanging from his belt and less to do with his character, but that did not change the fact that they had invested a good amount of authority in him.

"If everyone acted that way, then we would all be living on isolated planets, unaware that anyone beyond our own worlds even existed," he finally replied with a hint of good humor. "Technology is usually driven by war. Something tells me if we were all kind souls, no one would have had the proper motivation to leave their own worlds," he paused, the sound of a snicker warbling through his mask's vocoder. "Food for thought."

Another moment of silence passed as Darius realized he'd dodged the question. He fought the urge to audibly sigh, and continued, "I don't really know what my role is. We're in a state of flux, and by that I mean that most of the elected leaders are dead. I suppose you could call me something of a regent?" He shrugged. "I'm just helping them get to where they need to go."

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Loske nodded as she picked apart the dough of the sweet roll. Taking a morsel small enough to pop into her mouth, she chewed while [member="Darius Sedaire"] sorted his thoughts.

"If everyone were the same way, there wouldn't be so many factions either." She commented pointedly, swallowing after she voiced her opinion. Eyes at the roll again, not commenting on its flavour, she ripped off another piece. "What's the difference between The New Republic and The Alliance in Exile? Geoprivilege? Sounds like you all need to go where support is."

 

[Cedric Grayson]

It was only with the power of having lived on military rations for several years that Darius managed to scoop up some of the yellowish-brown goop. The spoonful of protein packed chit replication made it halfway to his mouth, before he realized he was wearing his mask.

A few moments of rather awkward silence hung there as Darius figured out what to do.

"The differences are minuet, I'll admit," Darius mused as he continued to stare at the spoon. "In a perfect world we would probably pool our resources. I think it comes down to interpersonal disagreements. The Republic was always focused on democratic rule - the alliance played at senatorial disputes, but it was always an oligarchy between the Jedi, the military, and whatever our third leader was," the exile waved a hand.

"It's preference and culture. When we reorganize, we'd like to retain the identity." Darius spoke honestly, and opted for honesty in another choice he was about to make. With some reluctance, he reached up and drew back his cowl. His mask followed shortly thereafter, revealing a young, blonde haired human with sharp green eyes and a thin smile. He finally scooped some of the mush into his mouth, his brow furrowing as the flavor threatened to send him to the 'freshers near by.

"Still tastes like death. Glad to see some things never change," Darius sighed.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

A thin curl etched at her lips, and her eyes narrowed with satisfaction. She gave an emphasis on one of her chomps when the masked person disassembled the contraption. There seemed nothing amiss with his features, no disfigurement that would require concealment. Perhaps he was using Art of the Small actively to hide hereditary tattoos on his face. A question for

"So in the end.." Loske drew in a breath of summation. "We're all imperfect and biased to our own differences." An indifferent acknowledgement to the emotions behind each faction, something her paternal donor would have muttered in his own time. The chaotic good was what she inherited from him, and from time to time it raised it's impartial head.

"Well on that note," Loske countered to [member="Darius Sedaire"] restaurant review of his entree "Appreciate the sacrifice. This sweet roll is living up to its name. Much appreciated."

There was a pause.

"Why were you wearing a mask?"

 

[Cedric Grayson]

"That could be a holovision quote," Darius snickered as he forced down more of the unpleasant food.

He stopped eating when she asked her question. It was one he could easily pass a lie off as an answer, but then he wasn't really in the mood for deception. An odd thing, really. "A few reasons," he began, "The mundane, for one. I can go into vacuum, I might survive a hard-thrown rock," he shrugged. "It also serves to make my face something of a commodity. Few people get to see it - up until now, anonymity has been my favorite tool."

A quiet sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back, and gestured all around. "Most of them don't know what my face looks like, but they've seen me enough to know me. These days I wear the mask out of habit I guess." It wasn't exactly an interesting reason, but it was honest.

"What's your real name, Blue?"

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"I've always wanted to be a holostar." Loske lied, tossing her tresses over her shoulder with a flick of her fingers - taking a moment to look proudly off in the distance as if posing for the cover of Coruscant Bazaar.

She turned back, elbows on the table and lacing her fingers so the back of her hands were like a hammock for her chin. She shrugged when [member="Darius Sedaire"] divulged a little more of his history. Voidwalker. Secrecy. This was some sort of undercover business. "Secret keeping seems to be a trend in the galaxy. I've never been very good at it." She admitted.

"Loske Matson." A wry grin crept through her lips again, and she dropped one of her elbows to her side, and leaned in on the other with a charismatic wink. "Maybe you've heard of me."

That was obviously a joke.

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The exile snickered, "Yeah, you could probably pull it off."

His arms folded about his chest as he regarded her. He felt something odd about her, and not in the cliche sense of the sort one would find in the holofilms. His ability to sense things within the empyrean was diluted with so much life all around, but he still felt Loske shine slightly brighter than those around her. Either the woman was marked, he mused to himself, or influencing the possibilities of the force were somehow within her capability.

The exile didn't trust his senses enough right now to make a conclusion, and he decided he didn't much care for the time being. The chance to get away from all the mundane work of logistics and security flights was welcome.

"No, but it's a shame I haven't," He replied, a hint of amusement to his tone.

"If you're not good with secrets, then perhaps removing the mask and telling you my name weren't the best of ideas." Darius continued thoughtfully, "You seem like a good person. I can tell that about people, usually. Just promise me you're not a Sith spy or anything like that."


[member="Loske Matson"]