Private Steps in the Crowd

[Zesiro]

The midday sun hung low above the bustling market district, its light tempered by awnings and holographic signs that flickered in the gentle breeze. Zesiro moved through the crowd with quiet poise, her boots pacing over cobbled stone as she scanned the stalls—exotic fruits, shimmering fabrics, curious trinkets from the Outer Rim. The scent of warm spice and roasted nuts blended into an atmosphere that felt both lively and fragile.

She paused at a stall displaying delicate glass orbs, their inner swirls reflecting passers‑by like shifting constellations. Her fingers hovered over the glass, not quite touching, as a subtle ripple of awareness passed through her. Another presence entered her periphery—sharp, composed, and unmistakably intentional.

She turned, ever so slightly, and saw her: Vexia Tahl. The name had reached her through hushed channels—a woman of influence and elegance, comfortable in places where observation and power wore the same face.

Zesiro's expression remained still. Whatever her purpose here, she let the silence linger. The crowd moved around them, a river of sound and motion, while she held her ground.

She inclined her head politely and lifted one hand in a subtle greeting.

"Vexia Tahl," she said, voice quiet, smooth, and even. "I did not expect to see you among these stalls." Her gaze flicked to the items around them, the market's bright energy providing cover. "And yet, the best meetings happen in unexpected places."

There was space between them—enough for choice, for secrets, for interaction—but also a sense that something had already drawn them together. Zesiro waited, letting the market's noise fade into a backdrop, and watched to see how the other would respond.

Vexia Tahl

 

[Vexia Tahl]

Objective: Rescue? Mostly make contact
Location: Marketplace, Independent System, Galactic Empire Border territories
Outfit: Colorful Dress
Tags: Zesiro

Zesiro, the High Lady or Kesh, aide to the former President of Commenor. From everything that Vexia had read Zesiro was a fascinating woman. And now she was forced to flee her home yet again. When word came to Vexia that one of her agents had spotted Lady Zesiro, the Zeltron philanthropist and thrill seeker made her way to the locale that had been relayed.

Though this market was certainly busy, and definitely was not run down, Vexia did not make it a practice to be hands on with many of the refugee efforts of Tahl's Haven Network. Even with the Galactic Empire getting close enough to threaten the homeworld of her people Vexia found logistics boring and would much rather find and adventure, a party or something of that like. She signed the checks to make sure as many people as possible could be moved out of harm's way. But to be boots on the ground was not something that she did.

"Boots on the ground", was also a bit misleading. She was looking to make a single contact. One that may or may not know she would be in the area. But Vexia wasn't one to hide her presence. She wasn't wearing some uniform efficient for work. She wasn't nose to the grindstone. She was in a pretty, colorful dress just like she would have been for one of her many holonet appearances. Her eyes were moving about the marketplace searching for something that would catch her attention.

Whether Zesiro was looking for contact or, the fact that Vexia was hard to miss in a crowd, the High Lady of Kesh was the first to reach out. Vexia heard her name softly in the air and turned her head to see the blonde woman. Vexia closed the distance between them with a graceful glide, her eyes were on the wares that were around Zesiro. "Far from a lucky coincidence High Lady Zesiro," Vexia purred in a low volume whisper. "I suppose you go by a less grand title now. But I was informed that you may be here. And I could use more hands in getting people out of the iron grip of the Galactic Empire. I figured it would be a task you may be willing to discuss over a nice meal and a bottle of wine." Vexia's intentions might be good, her heart in the right place. But she never did anything halfway. No expenses were spared in food, drink or clothes.

 

[Zesiro]

Zesiro studied her with an amused glint in her pale blue eyes, one eyebrow arching slightly as she allowed the greeting to hang between them. Her hands rested lightly on a nearby stall, brushing against vibrant fabrics, as if grounding herself before speaking. "Vexia," she said, her voice smooth, carrying that practiced calm of a diplomat and the thrill-seeker's charm alike. "You certainly know how to make an entrance… and an offer."

She let a small, dry laugh escape, almost a whisper over the hum of the marketplace. "Wine, you say… and a meal, too? That sounds dangerously civilized for someone like me, but I'll admit it… temptation suits you."

Zesiro stepped closer, her movements precise yet effortless, closing the space with an elegance that mirrored Vexia's own. "I must confess, I've been wondering who would have the gall—or the sense—to reach me here." She glanced around subtly, noting the flow of the crowd, her expression sharpening for just a fraction of a second. "And if you've brought me into your little endeavor, I should know exactly what I'm getting into. No illusions, Vexia."

Her gaze softened slightly, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. "Lead the way then… and try not to let the wine get the better of you."

Vexia Tahl

 

[Vexia Tahl]

Objective: Rescue? Mostly make contact
Location: Marketplace, Independent System, Galactic Empire Border territories
Outfit: Colorful Dress
Tags: Zesiro

Vexia enjoyed the appraising look that Zesiro gave. It was not a foreign reaction to Vexia. The red-skinned Zeltron never did anything if it wasn't flashy or dangerous. Vexia's dead husband had a soft spot for the less fortunate of the galaxy. Vexia wanted to see that his money fulfilled that legacy after his passing. But when anything was focused on Vexia, she expected it to sparkle. And most people said she did a good job of just that.

"It is hard to make a boring entrance when you dress and look like me," Vexia laughed in response. She wasn't actually as vain as she came off. Her statement was pretty spot on accurate. She wore vibrant colors, and fashions that showed off her physique. She had bold red skin and snow white hair that would stand out even if she were not attractive. "I am sure that if you were not looking to keep a low profile that you could make quite an entrance yourself High Lady," there was a twinkle in Vexia's eyes whenever she addressed Zesiro by her noble title.

"Temptation in a tight dress? I've been called more crude things in the past. Wine and a meal is only the start of the temptation that I offer to make sure that I seal a good offer though," her voice was flirtatious while still leaving the possibility that she was only doing so to tease. As Zesiro stepped closer Vexia reached out and ran her hand along her forearm, but before locking her arm with Zesiro and once given permission she gently tugged the blonde woman towards what Vexia knew to be the "best" restaurant in the city.

"I am an open book my dear High Lady," Vexia said with a smile. "I am no good at illusions. What is out in plain view is usually far too tempting to resist. I promise you any offer that is extended will be genuine, and you are free to decline at any time or place. I will answer all questions. And I am open to quite a bit of input. I do what I do for my late husband. I would be foolish to think that I know what is best."

Once inside the restaurant, Vexia indicated to the host that she wished for a private table, their best bottle of wine and two menus. Normally she would have just asked for the chef's specialty, but ordering for Zesiro might make the High Lady feel dictated to, that was the exact opposite of what Vexia. "There is no need to worry about the wine having too much of an effect on me. Honestly, I just like the taste. But don't think for a moment that I won't allow you to drink half and take advantage of any inebriation that takes place," Vexia gave a laugh and a wink as the host pointed out the private table and gave a strange look as he retreated to get the bottle of wine.

 

[Zesiro]

Zesiro allowed herself a small smile, letting her fingers lightly brush Vexia's as they walked. She did not shy from the touch, nor did she stiffen; instead, she matched the rhythm of Vexia's step with an elegance that spoke of discipline and confidence. Interesting, she thought, not just flashy… clever, too. And there was something familiar about it. Vexia's audacity, the way she commanded attention without asking for it, the bold sparkle in her eyes—it reminded Zesiro of herself in her younger years. Dangerous, charming, unafraid. The sort of person who could make both allies and enemies with the same gesture. She allowed herself a faint twist of nostalgia before she pushed it aside.

"Open book," Zesiro echoed, her voice low and melodic, carrying just enough amusement to tease without revealing too much. "A rare quality… and dangerous, if wielded carelessly. I trust you understand the consequences of offering everything so freely?" Her gaze met Vexia's, a spark of challenge beneath the polite veneer.

Once seated, Zesiro leaned back slightly, her posture impeccable, though her eyes lingered on Vexia with quiet curiosity as she took in the private table and the attentive service. "I do appreciate discretion," she said, inclining her head toward the host, "but I am not accustomed to being coddled either. You are not trying to impress me, I hope?" Her tone carried a hint of playful suspicion, though the corner of her mouth threatened a smile.

When Vexia mentioned the wine, Zesiro's lips curved knowingly. "Half the bottle," she murmured, "and I will see what kind of temptations you truly offer. I must warn you, though—I am not easily swayed by either charm or drink. It will take more than a fine vintage and flattering words to catch me off guard."

Her hand hovered briefly near her menu before settling on the table, fingers interlaced neatly. Yet her eyes continued to dance over Vexia, sharp and assessing, catching the subtle provocations, the little sparks of danger and audacity. She has a way of moving through the world that I once had… Zesiro thought, a flash of amusement warming her. Curious, clever, unafraid. Very curious indeed.

"But I confess," she added softly, almost as an afterthought, "I am curious… very curious indeed."

Vexia Tahl

 

[Vexia Tahl]

Objective: Rescue? Mostly make contact
Location: Marketplace, Independent System, Galactic Empire Border territories
Outfit: Colorful Dress
Tags: Zesiro

The physical contact was a bit surprising, and not unwelcome, it was only a graze of hand against hand, but it was a sign of comfort. Vexia felt Zesiro's feelings of nostalgia. The Zeltron filled the air with an aura of carefree spirit. There was a sense from Zesiro that she was old. Vexia would not accept that. The High Lady was no older than she was, Vexia would bet. Zesiro just needed someone to remind her how she was in those times. Vexia could certainly do that.

"Openness carries no consequences that I concern myself with," Vexia hummed. "My wealth is well protected. If there is any corruption in my charitable organizations, I have no part and welcome it being brought to light. I know that knowledge is power. I don't desire power. I am much more happy sharing everything…" Vexia gave a bit of a giggle. "Plus, you've been vetted.

Vexia moved slowly as she took her seat in the desired private booth. She was quite used to people taking looks at her, and she very rarely deprived them of the pleasure. Discretion was not something that Vexia was terribly happy with. As she had already stated she would be much happier completely in the open. But for her late husband's legacy she had learned to be careful when necessary. "I would never think to coddle someone as exemplary as you High Lady." Vexia hummed pleasantly and gave a wink to Zesiro. "Of course I am trying to impress you. I come with an offer, but it is an easy one to refuse if I don't give proper incentive."

To Vexia the wine truly was just about the luxury of it. However much Zesiro chose to drink mattered little to her. The statement that Zesiro was interested in the temptations that Vexia had to offer brought a coy smile to the Zeltron's lips, the warning that the High Lady of Kesh that she would not be caught off guard did nothing to make the smile disappear. "I have no intention to trick you into whatever I desire. If what I have to offer is not something that interests you I would find you turning me down much more satisfying than tricking you into submission. Your free will is safe with me High Lady. I can promise you that."

Zesiro's curiosity did not escape Vexia in the least. She paused at the blonde woman's admission of curiosity. Vexia picked up a menu to create a longer pause as she let the curiosity germinate. When Zesiro came out and voiced her curiosity Vexia gave a light giggle and raised the menu to take a look, she wasn't actually looking at the menu too much. Vexia looked over her menu intensely over Zesiro with a flirtatious batting of her eyes. "Having you delve into your own curiosity is much more fun than using drink and charm to sway you into something that does not interest you. I don't know what you know about me High Lady, I spend lots of credits to make the galaxy better. I require help in developing new investments of my credits worthy of my late husband's legacy and to stay on task. You are in a position where you need to get out away from the Galactic Empire and you have qualifications that would make you a good aid in bringing some good to the galaxy. Plus, you have other assets I find interesting as well." Vexia's eyes dropped to the menu for a moment and she licked her lips as if something she saw enticed her. Vexia's eyes looked over her menu to Zesiro once more and smiled. "So High Lady Zesiro, what would you like to do to make this galaxy a better place?"

 

[Zesiro]

Zesiro felt the warmth of Vexia's aura as tangibly as the lantern-light around them—soft, easy, intoxicating in a way that had nothing to do with wine. Zeltrons had always been dangerous for her for that reason: they reminded her of younger days, days when consequences were things she believed only happened to other people, days where she walked into rooms without calculating the exit points or counting the eyes on her back. Her life had become more measured since then, more navigated by instinct and necessity than desire. Yet sitting across from Vexia—vibrant, fearless, utterly unashamed of drawing attention—Zesiro felt a familiar melody stirring in her chest. A memory more than a feeling. So this is what it was like, she thought, not without a bittersweet fondness. To burn without worrying who might see the smoke.

"You are remarkably cavalier about consequences," Zesiro murmured, though her tone carried amusement rather than admonishment. "A rare trait in this era." Her blue eyes lingered on Vexia a moment longer, taking in the certainty, the ease, the almost reckless generosity. "But I suppose wealth does act as a shield when one chooses to wield it that way. And yes—your reputation preceded you. I would not have come if it hadn't."

She slid into the cushioned booth opposite the Zeltron, her movements fluid but deliberate, the practiced elegance of someone who had been under scrutiny most of her life. She noticed immediately the contrast between them: Vexia's open glow versus her own carefully contained composure. If it intimidated Vexia, the woman didn't show it—if anything, she leaned into it. Zesiro's lips curved faintly.

"Exemplary," she repeated, tasting the word as if assessing its accuracy. "You flatter me far more than I deserve." The wink Vexia offered earned the smallest tilt of Zesiro's head, a gesture somewhere between amusement and acknowledgement. "Impressing me is possible. Buying my compliance is not. But I suspect you already know the difference."

When Vexia spoke of temptation, of free will, of refusing to trick her, Zesiro watched her with renewed interest. "Most people would find your approach disarming," she said quietly, folding her hands atop the table. "I find it refreshing. Honest seduction is almost a lost art, you know. Most prefer manipulation dressed in charm."

Vexia's flutter of eyelashes over the top of her menu was almost criminal in its effectiveness. Zesiro held her gaze without shying away, though she felt a ripple of something warmer than wine trace through her. Force, she really is unapologetic, she thought, hiding her amusement behind an impeccably straight posture.

The woman spoke of credits, legacy, purpose; Zesiro listened, letting the flirtation and sincerity braid together into something she couldn't dismiss. It wasn't vanity that made her lean in slightly—it was curiosity, genuine and layered.

"You offer the galaxy your fortune," Zesiro said softly, "and you seek someone who can make sure that fortune is not wasted. Someone who can see where it must go, and who can stand beside you while you reshape the pieces your husband left behind."

She allowed a breath to escape her, not quite a sigh but something just shy of one. "I have spent my life serving worlds that no longer exist as they were. Kesh. Commenor. And every system I have stood beside has paid a price for daring to be independent. The Empire destroys identities, not just leaders."

Her fingers brushed the stem of her untouched wineglass. "So what would I like to do?" she echoed faintly, lifting her blue gaze back to Vexia's. "I would like to give people choices again. Worlds choices. I would like to build something that outlives war and lasts longer than any empire."

Then, more softly, with a touch of candor she rarely allowed anyone:

"And perhaps… I would like to remember what it felt like to be the woman you think I still am."

The room seemed to tighten, not uncomfortably, but with potential.

She let a quiet smile unfold—small, earnest, the kind she seldom wore.
"Tell me more of this… offer."

Vexia Tahl

 

[Vexia Tahl]

Objective: Rescue? Mostly make contact
Location: Marketplace, Independent System, Galactic Empire Border territories
Outfit: Colorful Dress
Tags: Zesiro

Vexia's cavalier attitude seemed to amuse Zesiro. The Zeltron answered the amusement with a smirk and a nod of her own. If her reputation was known by Zesiro, it would not really be a surprise that Vexia didn't shy away from danger. Aside from being a philanthropist the Zeltron former Jedi had a reputation for being quite the thrill seeker. Vexia allowed the comment to go without further conversation. If they spoke to much out in the open there would be less to talk about in private. Vexia already hoped that the conversation would be quite lengthy.

"You have come on hard times, not the first time in your life. The fact that your situation is not ideal does not retract from what you are. Exemplary is what I see. You will need to prove me wrong," Vexia replied to Zesiro's humility. "Credits, wine, and fine food may be meant to impress. It really is just me being me, though. I have no delusions that my flaunting my wealth will influence whether or not you join me to use said wealth to change the galaxy."

When Zesiro suggested that most would find Vexia's forward approach disarming, the Zeltron giggled. When the blonde continued that she enjoyed such an approach Vexia gave a slight hum, and when there was a mention of seduction…faint pheromones were unconsciously released into the air. Not enough to push on Zesiro's will, just enough that it became obvious that Vexia was forming an attraction. "My seductions are always honest. Manipulation only leads to drama sooner or later. Drama is a pool I enjoy watching but not bathing in myself." Vexia's tone was slightly husky especially when emphasizing the words seductions and bathing. Subtlety was not something that Vexia replied often.

Vexia felt a return of her attraction as the women maintained eye contact. The High Lady leaned in closer and Vexia's voice paused for a moment. If nothing else Vexia was tickling Zesiro's curiosity. The High Lady wanted to know more. Vexia would show her more. When Zesiro rehashed her read of the situation it was Vexia who leaned forward to listen. It was obvious from the sigh that something was giving Zesiro hesitation, but it was not the lack of desire to work with Vexia. Vexia gave a small frown, but didn't let it affect the overall mood of the meeting when Zesiro expressed what had happened to the other planets she had stood with. Vexia sent a comforting vibe towards Zesiro as she went on about wars and empires. The Zeltron scooted closer to Zesiro in half-circle booth and placed her hand on Zesiro's knee under the table. "War is unescapable," she said tenderly. "But we can do our best to counter its effect on the galaxy. Planets and people are physical playthings for tyrants. They will be taken and freed countless times over the span of history. The spirit of the people is what needs to be nurtured. If properly fed it will never die no matter the fate the planet and the freedom of the people. Kesh still exists, if you wanted it to thrive again it could. Commenor is occupied, but it won't be forever. I do have substance along with all the flash and sex appeal." Vexia gave a light giggle before a pause and then she squeezed Zesiro's knee gently. "And the woman you think you were and I know that you are is there if you let her come out."

When Zesiro wanted to hear more, Vexia smiled and looked into the blonde's blue eyes. She put the menu on the table and smiled. "I have decided what I want," she said in a very flirtatious tone as she continued to lock eyes with Zesiro. "As to the offer. It can be many things. Aiding refugees from the Core to safer places. Rebuilding Kesh. It is not my preferred action, but funding a militia to hamper the Empire and create safe spots on Commenor is even a possibility. I am not a logistics girl. I live on big ideas. The offer is a partnership. The specifics are to be determined. There is plenty of time for us to learn each other's desires."

 

[Zesiro]

Zesiro had expected boldness—Zeltrons were nothing if not fearless—but the softness threaded beneath Vexia's confidence, the way she paired genuine warmth with audacity, caught her off guard in a way she did not show. The High Lady listened quietly as the younger woman spoke, her blue eyes never straying far from Vexia's expressive face. There was something almost… disarming about hearing someone insist she was exemplary. It wasn't flattery—not from Vexia, whose tone was too straightforward to be performing. It was conviction. A reminder of who Zesiro had once been without apology.

When the Zeltron's pheromones began drifting gently through the air, Zesiro felt them—not as a push, but as a shift in atmosphere, the way perfume made a room feel warmer. She let her gaze dip for the briefest moment, acknowledging the honesty of Vexia's seduction without surrendering to it. "Honest seduction," she echoed, her voice softer, more contemplative than before. "That is… rarer than you know."

Her thoughts flickered to the past—to rooms where charm was a weapon, where seduction was leverage, where every smile had teeth. Vexia's forwardness, her lack of guile, struck a very different chord. It was not manipulation draped in beauty. It was beauty that refused to manipulate.

And then the touch.

Zesiro stilled for a heartbeat when Vexia's hand settled gently on her knee beneath the table, not in shock, but in the quiet reflex of someone who had lived long under public scrutiny. Private contact—real contact—was something she almost never allowed. Not out of fear, but out of habit. Yet Vexia's touch was warm, comforting, and anchored in genuine affection rather than conquest. Zesiro did not pull away. Instead, she let the warmth seep into her muscles, grounding her.

"You speak of war as though you have weathered it for centuries," she murmured, voice low, threaded with a gravity that came from lived experience. "Empires rise and fall, yes. Worlds are seized, liberated, broken, rebuilt… but the spirit of the people?" Her eyes softened, something fragile flickering behind them. "That is what tyrants fear most."

She let Vexia's comforting aura settle around her like a familiar cloak she had forgotten belonged to her. It had been so long since anyone touched her without expectation. So long since someone had spoken to her not as a symbol—not as the High Lady of Kesh, not as the aide to a president, not as a political artifact—but as a woman who had survived loss and wanted to believe she still had a place in shaping something better.

The gentle squeeze on her knee coaxed a faint breath from her lips, something that sat between gratitude and disbelief. When Vexia spoke of Kesh and Commenor, of rebuilding, of the woman she still was beneath the years of careful restraint, a small, private smile ghosted across Zesiro's mouth—one so quiet it almost wasn't there.

"Perhaps you see more in me than I have allowed myself to see," she said softly. "Perhaps that is what unsettles me."

Then Vexia leaned in, eyes bright, tone dropping to something sultry and intentional, and Zesiro felt warmth bloom in her chest for reasons that had very little to do with pheromones. The way Vexia declared she had decided what she wanted—locking eyes, voice dipped in velvet—pulled a quiet laugh from the High Lady's throat, low and melodic.

"And what is it that you want?" Zesiro asked, though the way Vexia looked at her made the answer unnecessary.

As the Zeltron laid out her visions—refugee networks, rebuilding worlds, even arming resistance cells if needed—Zesiro listened with renewed attention. These were not drunken daydreams or empty philanthropist fantasies. These were the bones of real change, offered by someone who could afford to make it happen.

"A partnership," Zesiro repeated carefully, letting the word roll through her mind, testing its weight. "That is not a small offer. Nor is it an easy one."

She turned slightly toward Vexia, closing the remaining inches of distance with a quiet confidence that matched the intimacy of the room.

"If I am to join you—if I am to stand beside you—then understand this:
I do not lend my voice lightly.
I do not lend my name cheaply.
And I do not enter partnerships half-heartedly."

Her hand moved atop the table slowly, deliberately—an invitation rather than a demand—as she added,

"If we do this, Vexia… then we do it with intention."

Her blue eyes held Vexia's without wavering.

"So tell me, Zeltron—what intention do you truly have for me?"

Vexia Tahl

 

[Vexia Tahl]

Objective: Rescue? Mostly make contact
Location: Marketplace, Independent System, Galactic Empire Border territories
Outfit: Colorful Dress
Tags: Zesiro

Vexia's tactics were expressed as rare once again. Some likely would have taken that as flattery. Vexia was intrigued by being called "rare", and it seemed to gain Zesiro's interest. So she was not going to argue with the assessment. "My late husband told me that he was that didn't take every word from my mouth as seduction. And I am always honest. I guess that makes me rare as well. Rarity is a desired thing is it not?" Vexia gave another wink.

"I was a Jedi…probably not so long ago in the grand scheme of things," Vexia explained softly as the subject of war was expanded upon. "I have experienced war, certainly not for centuries, but I was asked to learn about it. I know that this galaxy does not exist for long without some sort of war or another. It may not affect all the systems of the galaxy, but it is ever-present." Zesiro then cemented in Vexia's mind that she was the right person to be a partner. "That spirit is what I desire to keep burning brightly. The galaxy will always know darkness, so we must fight for light. And I don't just mean justice and fairness. I mean the light in one's heart when they are truly happy. That is what I strive for."

Most would not have seen the ghost smile that had grown on Zesiro's lips. Vexia was not most. Even if she didn't see the muscles move, Vexia could feel the smile. She had brought hope to Zesiro. And Zesiro was relieved that it was not gone, and seemingly willing to search it out further. This brought a smile to Vexia's lips as well. Zesiro spoke of being unsettled, but Vexia knew that she was just finding herself again. No words were offered from the Zeltron woman, instead another steadying squeeze of Zesiro's knee.

"Colo Claw Fish," Vexia responded with a wide grin and then a boisterous laugh when she was asked what she "wanted". It was what she planned to order for a meal, but she knew that before they had even stepped foot in the restaurant just like the bottle of wine she had ordered. She hadn't known on the walk what she wanted from Zesiro. She did now. Whatever the former High Lady of Kesh was willing to give her.

The suggestion of a partnership was not accepted without consideration. Vexia was not disheartened by that. It was what she suspected would happen. She had put forward her honest offer. Now she hoped for the best. "Easy is boring," Vexia responded with a smirk. "I had no inclination that you would be easy. The best things in life are worth the effort."

Zesiro turned towards Vexia, the little bit of distance that Vexia had left for the blonde woman to think was erased. Vexia's heart fluttered in anticipation. That didn't happen often. It was something she sought to find in the galaxy. Ifs were put to word, but a hand extended out onto the table, open. "Your voice will be heard clearly, Cheap is not part of my vocabulary and I never do anything with half a heart," Vexia said as her hand moved out to fold inside of Zesiro's

"My intention was a mutual challenge that would make a better galaxy," Vexia stated her base level desire. She wanted someone to push her capabilities in ways that would improve the galaxy. Vexia wanted a fellow mountain mover who was better versed in the minutia of the galaxy. That was what she would have said at the beginning of the meeting. Now… Vexia's free hand moved up and cupped Zesiro's cheek, "Having sat and talked with you, I will maintain my honesty. I would love for something much more personal. Whatever you are willing to give, as quickly or slowly as you are willing to go. I am open to any partnership you are."

 

[Zesiro]

Zesiro had expected Vexia's boldness. She had expected the flirtation, the heat, the unapologetic way the Zeltron refused to hide her desires or her confidence. What she had not expected—not in the slightest—was the gentleness threaded through it all. Honesty without manipulation. Attraction without expectation. It was a rarity indeed, though Zesiro would never admit aloud how much that rarity affected her.

The mention of Vexia's late husband settled something in her. "Then he was a perceptive man," she murmured, her tone softening in subtle respect. "Very few can look at someone as luminous as you and see the truth beneath the glow." Her blue eyes lingered on Vexia's wink, the faintest spark of amusement lighting her expression. "And yes… rarity is desired. Not because it is flawless, but because it is genuine."

When Vexia spoke of her time as a Jedi—short-lived in the grand timeline of the galaxy, but essential nonetheless—Zesiro leaned in a bit, listening closely. "Then you have seen war through a lens most never do," she said quietly. "Not as a soldier alone, but as someone taught its philosophy, its cycles, its inevitability." She considered the woman sitting beside her—the vibrant Zeltron with a heart too generous for her own safety—and felt a swell of something like admiration.

"And that light you speak of," Zesiro continued, voice introspective, "the light in people's hearts when they are happy… You speak of it as though it is a resource worth defending. Most leaders defend borders, or wealth, or power. But defending joy?" Her lips lifted, the smallest smile brightening her refined features. "That is worthy work."

She felt the steadying squeeze on her knee again—quiet, grounding, affectionate but not demanding. Zesiro did not retreat from the touch; she let herself lean into it, just slightly, as if acknowledging something she had long placed behind glass. She watched Vexia laugh at her own joke about Colo Claw Fish, and though Zesiro rarely allowed herself overt laughter, the soft, honest chuckle that slipped from her surprised even her.

"You are incorrigible," she murmured, though her eyes said she did not mind in the slightest.

When Vexia spoke of the effort required, of difficult things being worth pursuing, Zesiro's expression softened again. "Then perhaps," she said, "you have chosen the right challenge. I was never meant to be easy." There was no arrogance in the statement—just truth, worn and shaped by experience.

And then Vexia reached out—hand open, steady, waiting.

Zesiro looked down at the offered hand, her breath catching quietly. There was no coy seduction in the gesture. No trick. Just sincerity. It was rare for someone to provide her with anything without expecting something polished and perfectly composed in return.

"Cheap has never suited you," she said in a low voice, placing her hand gently into Vexia's. "Nor does half-heartedness. That much is clear."

When Vexia cupped her cheek, Zesiro did not flinch or withdraw. Instead, she tilted her head ever so slightly into the touch, letting the warmth settle against her skin. It had been years since someone had touched her with tenderness rather than political intent. The sensation was… unexpected. And deeply welcome.

"You are bold," she whispered, her voice soft but resonant with something deeper. "And brave. And far more perceptive than people likely give you credit for."

She lifted her free hand, letting her fingertips brush lightly along the back of Vexia's wrist—not possessive, not hesitant, but intentional. "A mutual challenge," she echoed. "A partnership in purpose."

Her eyes met the Zeltron's fully then—unmasked, clear, striking in the soft light.

"And something personal," Zesiro added in a quiet breath, the words carrying more meaning than volume. "Yes… I would like that. I am willing to see where this path leads us slowly, if you need quickly, if it feels right. Openly, honestly."

Her hand tightened gently around Vexia's.

"I offer you the same."

For the first time that night, she allowed a fuller, warmer smile—radiant and unmistakably genuine.

"Let us begin there."

Vexia Tahl

 

[Vexia Tahl]

Objective: Rescue? Mostly make contact
Location: Marketplace, Independent System, Galactic Empire Border territories
Outfit: Colorful Dress
Tags: Zesiro

As the talk of her late husband continued Vexia blushed slightly. There was likely no way for Zesiro to tell that was happening due to Vexia's complexion. Warming of the cheeks was rare in a Zeltron, but it was even more rare for someone to catch them in a blush. "My husband and I were not nearly the scandal that some people made us out to be. At first, he was a friend, he made me realize that the Jedi was not the best place for my particular gifts. We weren't some lavish love affair, but we loved each other. I had no interest in his money, but he didn't have trust his family would see to his legacy properly. He saw much more than the pretty packaging I am on the outside. It was a treasure for me. One I am repaying by taking the credits he made during his lifetime and making them do something good." Vexia noticed Zesiro watching her, she noticed the amusement in the former High Lady of Kesh. The Zeltron smiled. Her late husband had not been a whirlwind romance. He made Vexia's heart flutter in a very different way. Vexia could see a situation where Zesiro made her feel things no one else had. If things went the right way.

That feeling of an impending strengthening of their connection as Zesiro spoke about Vexia's knowledge of war going beyond being a mere foot soldier. Vexia had grown very irritated with the Jedi in cases of war. That was probably how she was easily lured away from the Order by her late husband. She had wanted fighting to mean something. Wars these days were just about fighting, defending territory. It wasn't about getting somewhere that would serve the people of the galaxy when they were done. It was nice to have someone value what Vexia had learned, and how she had chosen to apply it.

More and more the signs of a mutual attraction were coming out. Zesiro did not shy away from Vexia's touch, she laughed genuinely at Vexia's joke. When she called the Zeltron incorrigible though…"On that you are correct. And I am glad to see that it brings a smile to your lips… I do not intend to change that in the least. We should enjoy our work thoroughly."

Zesiro stated that she thought that Vexia had chosen a good challenge. Vexia knew that from the moment she read the former High Lady's file. How close they would work together was not as clear. There was certainly a world in which Vexia gave Zesiro a budget and the expectation that there would be slight oversight and let the woman loose to do some good. That had happened before. But this connection, it was not something that Vexia had any desire to fight against.

Zesiro agreed that Vexia was not one to be considered cheap, and Vexia knew that the statement about half-heartedness was something that Zesiro subscribed to as well. This partnership would be honest, and it would be fruitful in business. Vexia hoped it would be exciting and full of fireworks away from business. The attraction that she knew existed on the surface was growing deeper already. Again Zesiro didn't pull away from intimate contact. "Bold? Yes, I suppose I am. It really isn't in the Zeltron nature to hide one's feelings or allow them to go completely unacted upon." She gave a slight hum of pleasure at being called brave (she honestly didn't think anything she did was all that brave) and perceptive. The latter was true, Zeltron were viewed by most in the galaxy as not noticing anything that wasn't a haughty desire. It was a stereotype that was blatantly untrue for most Zeltron, and Vexia for sure.

As Zesiro's hand moved on the back of Vexia's the hum became a purr. Her own hand shifted from Zesiro's cheek and led her arm to snake across Zesiro's shoulders as she scooted just a bit closer, her hip grazing against Zesiro's. Then came the response that Zesiro was open to something more open as well. Vexia gave a nod that they would allow things to unfold at whatever speed felt right. Despite common thoughts about Zeltrons, Vexia was not one to just jump into a relationship haphazardly. Maybe for a night, but nothing that she intended to last.

"Well then, we have plenty to discuss," Vexia giggled and waved the waiter over to the table. "We'll take another bottle of wine. I would like the Colo Claw Fish, I won't take the liberty of ordering for my partner here. But I do hope she'll eat while we get to know each other better."

 

[Zesiro]

Zesiro listened to the details of Vexia's marriage with a quiet attentiveness that few would have believed of her. Her expression remained composed, aristocratic in its stillness, yet her eyes softened as the Zeltron spoke—not out of pity, but out of genuine respect. "Then you were fortunate," she murmured after a moment, her voice low and melodic, "to have loved someone who saw the whole of you. Not the surface. Not the spectacle. But the woman beneath the radiance." She tilted her head slightly, studying Vexia with a depth that was as gentle as it was piercing. "And fortunate again to carry his legacy in a way that honors his belief in you."

When Vexia confessed she had never cared for his money, Zesiro's lips curved faintly. "I believe you," she said. "And that, too, is rare." The word—rare—carried a different tone this time. Not teasing. Not flirtation. Something more sincere. Something appreciative.

As Vexia spoke of her departure from the Jedi and the meaning she sought in war, Zesiro's blue eyes grew thoughtful. She remembered too well how governments, councils, and orders turned battles into abstractions—even as people bled under their banners. "You are right," she replied softly. "War without purpose becomes carnage. Purpose without love becomes tyranny." Her gaze lingered on Vexia with quiet admiration. "It says something about your character that you still look for meaning instead of surrendering to cynicism."

The laughter that came next—Vexia's rich, unrestrained laugh—pulled a reaction from Zesiro she scarcely recognized in herself: genuine warmth. Her smile returned, fuller this time, lifting the line of her cheek as she shook her head slowly. "We should enjoy our work," she agreed. "For once, perhaps I have chosen a path that allows for more joy than sacrifice."

When Vexia admitted her boldness—unapologetically, almost proudly—Zesiro's brows arched in an appreciative curve. "Boldness suits you," she said, a subtle glint in her eyes. "As does honesty. It is… refreshing." She allowed her hand to remain beneath Vexia's when the Zeltron purred at her touch, the sound vibrating softly between them. Zesiro's answering laugh—quiet, warm, impossibly smooth—rose like velvet from her chest.

Then Vexia moved closer.
Her arm draped over Zesiro's shoulders.
Their hips brushed with deliberate softness.
And Zesiro did not move away.

Instead, her spine gently relaxed, her posture shifting from the pristine stillness of a High Lady into something more grounded, more human. More present. Her hand, still resting on Vexia's, gave the faintest squeeze—acknowledging the shift, accepting it.

"Zeltron or not," she murmured, leaning in just enough that their shoulders brushed together, "there is bravery in offering one's heart. Even in small gestures." She paused, letting the warmth between them breathe. "And perhaps I am braver than I believed as well… to accept it."

When the waiter approached, Zesiro's gaze did not stray from Vexia's for several seconds more. Only after the second bottle was acknowledged did she turn gracefully to the server.

"I'll have the grilled flamevine shoots with citrus glaze," she said calmly, as though ordering in such intimate proximity were the most natural thing in the world.

Once they were alone again, she returned her attention fully to Vexia—their closeness now something shared, not initiated from only one side.

"You are right," Zesiro said in a low tone meant for the Zeltron alone. "We have much to discuss. Much to discover."

Her fingers traced a light line along Vexia's wrist.

"And I find myself… unexpectedly eager for both."

Vexia Tahl

 

[Vexia Tahl]

Objective: Rescue? Mostly make contact
Location: Marketplace, Independent System, Galactic Empire Border territories
Outfit: Colorful Dress
Tags: Zesiro

Vexia knew that she was lucky in her marriage. Though she wished she had more time with her husband before he passed. Luckily Vexia did not believe in a single soulmate. Even though her husband may have been the person who would know her the best of anyone in her life. There was always room for another to come close or even surpass him. He had built her up to what she was. There were many years for Vexia to find someone who could see beneath the surface and enjoy the true substance of a lasting relationship. It was a rare desire for a Zeltron, but Vexia as had been stated was a rare being in the galaxy.

Zesiro went on expressing agreement with the way that Vexia had described her view of the galaxy and wars in particular. Since Zesiro had been involved in politics and making planetary governments work, there was a slight concern that Vexia and her would be at odds over the best way to put the Tahl stamp on their work. As Zesiro agreed, there was definitely an audible swoon from the Zeltron as she listened.

The statement about enjoying work made Vexia's thoughts drift away from just what they could possibly do to help out the challenged peoples of the galaxy. Vexia would surely make sure that as many as possible would be touched by her generosity, but she also thought of what long meetings with Zesiro might result in. They were like minded, they were close in age and there seemed to be a mutual attraction. Vexia had longed for this type of connection for a while now.

Shared laughter, and gentle touches, closer proximity, it all was accepted by both women with grace and a bit of excitement. Zesiro did not shy away from Vexia's approach, her hand continued to graze along the skin of the Zelton's hand and wrist. "Sometimes when things take a negative turn one loses themselves temporarily. You are indeed brave High Lady. And I will be happy to coax that bravery out little by little."

As Zesiro gave the waiter her order, Vexia slipped her foot out of her shoe and moved the foot over her own shin to run the ball of her foot along Zesiro's shin. What Zesiro ordered sounded delicious. Perhaps the High Lady would agree to partake in each other's meal as the talked about the future.

As the waiter walked away to enter their order Vexia hummed pleasantly. "So where should we start? The Outer Rim?" Vexia's foot glided down Zerio's leg towards her ankle. "Or closer to the Core?" she continued as her foot changed direction and glided up Zerio's calf towards her knee. Vexia's fingers drew small circles on Zesiro's shoulder

"We can talk whatever you want. Business, personal…nothing is off the table. I am a woman of action as well, though…" Vexia hummed and continued to run her foot up and down Zesiro's leg. "Perhaps after a little wine you'll honor me with a nice dance? I'm sure I could get them to play whatever music would please you most…"

 

[Zesiro]

Zesiro had been listening—truly listening—when the first brush of Vexia's foot found her shin.

It was subtle. Intentional. And entirely unexpected.

For the briefest moment, her breath caught—not sharply, not enough to betray her—but enough that her fingers paused where they rested against the table. She did not pull away. Nor did she lean into it. Instead, she allowed the sensation to register, catalogued it with the same careful awareness she brought to unfamiliar territory. Surprise, yes. Uncertainty, too. Not discomfort—but recalibration.

Her gaze lifted to Vexia's face, blue eyes searching her expression rather than her movement, as if confirming intent before reacting. Bold, she thought—not disapprovingly. Simply… noting.

When the foot moved again, tracing a slower path along her calf, Zesiro exhaled quietly and shifted just enough in the booth to acknowledge it—neither encouraging nor refusing. Her voice, when she spoke, remained even, though a trace of warmth threaded through it now.

"You move quickly," she said softly, not as a warning, but as an observation. Her fingers resumed their gentle line along Vexia's wrist, grounding herself in something familiar. "Not recklessly. Just…confidently."

The circles on her shoulder drew her attention back inward, anchoring her in the moment rather than pulling her away from it. Zesiro let her head tilt slightly toward the touch, conceding that much, even as her posture remained composed.

"As for where to start," she continued, thoughtful rather than distracted, "the Outer Rim would be practical. The Core would be…complicated." A faint smile touched her lips. "Though I suspect you enjoy complicated things."

When Vexia suggested dancing, Zesiro's brows lifted a fraction—not in surprise this time, but consideration. She glanced briefly toward the bar beyond the private space, where music drifted faintly through the walls. Her foot remained still beneath the table now, allowing the contact without advancing it further. "A dance," she repeated quietly. There was a pause—just long enough to be genuine.

"I have spent a long time moving only when necessity demanded it," she said, her tone reflective rather than guarded. "Allowing myself to move simply because I want to…" Her gaze returned to Vexia, steady and searching. "That would be new." Then, gently—decisively—she added, "But not unwelcome." Her fingers gave Vexia's wrist a light, reassuring squeeze. "Let us finish our wine first," Zesiro said softly. "And then—if the music suits—I would be willing to dance."

The smile she offered then was small, sincere, and quietly anticipatory. "Slowly," she added, just as quietly.

Vexia Tahl

 

[Vexia Tahl]

Objective: Rescue? Mostly make contact
Location: Marketplace, Independent System, Galactic Empire Border territories
Outfit: Colorful Dress
Tags: Zesiro

Vexia was told she moves fast. It wasn't the first time. It was true. Vexia didn't like to waste time. She understood that others had to process things at their own pace, and she didn't fault them for that. But she needed to hold, touch, and feel. That helped her move things forward. She knew that Zesiro was not coming from a place of power. Something that was different for the former High Lady of Kesh. Vexia knew that her new partner would not process things the same way she did. And Vexia would respect that. But it was hard to subdue ones nature. Vexia loved to feel. She loved to go fast in all things. She knew it wasn't always possible, but she often needed to be reigned in when she jumped too fast.

Vexia stalled the movement of her foot. She didn't retract it just yet, but it remained still at Zesiro's ankle. Vexia was more interested in getting to know Zesiro truly. To learn her desires, both personally and professionally. Vexia was the type to put all her cards on the table. There were no boundaries with her, sometimes she forgot that other people weren't as lucky as she was. They needed to be more guarded. What she didn't need to be reminded of very often though, was something worthwhile was hardly ever easy. And things that were easy and fast tended to get boring.

Zesiro revealed her desire to start their work in the Outer Rim. This brought a confident smile to Vexia's lips and a nod of her head. "The Core would indeed be quite complicated. I did mention that I enjoy a challenge, but I agree it would be a bit much to take on…at first. I don't believe in discouraging people from what they really want though, so if you wanted to start complicated, I would have come along for the ride. The Outer Rim it shall be then. Do you have interest in resettling Kesh? Or do you wish to take on something less personal to ease into things?"

Vexia's heart raced as Zesiro considered the proposed dance. It was only a slight surprise to the Zeltron. Zesiro's interesting bio and her appealing physical nature had created an instant attraction for Vexia. Usually the threat of rejection never really was a thought that occurred to Vexia. Zesiro was a level of woman who would certainly take things at her own pace though. And Vexia finally realized she had to be careful or risk pushing her away. "Slow dances are quite enjoyable," Vexia responded playfully. "Do not hesitate to tell me if I am moving too fast. I will not take it harshly. And my moving fast is…not an attempt to lightspeed a relationship. Slow for me is not the same as it is for everyone. I promise that while I am quite touchy…It is an attempt to experience things, not to push to the next step."

 

[Zesiro]

Zesiro noticed the pause immediately.

Not the absence of contact, but the decision behind it.

Vexia's foot remained at her ankle, still now, no longer exploring. It told Zesiro more than any apology or explanation could have that the Zeltron woman was listening. That she was willing—if not naturally inclined—to temper instinct with consideration. Zesiro did not withdraw from the touch, but neither did she lean further into it. Instead, she allowed herself a quiet recalibration, the sort she had mastered through years of navigating rooms where a single misstep carried consequence.

"I do not mistake speed for carelessness," Zesiro said softly, blue eyes lifting to meet Vexia's. There was no reproach in her tone—only clarity. "Nor touch for intent. I simply…" She paused, choosing honesty over polish. "I have spent a long time existing without being touched at all. It takes me a moment to remember how to receive."

She let that truth stand, unadorned.

When the conversation returned to the Outer Rim, Zesiro's focus sharpened. The confidence in Vexia's voice, the ease with which she accepted the complication of the Core and redirected toward something more manageable, eased a concern Zesiro hadn't voiced aloud. "The Outer Rim is where change can still take root," she agreed. "Less watched. Less entangled. People there still believe tomorrow can be different from today."

Then came the question of Kesh.

Zesiro inhaled slowly—not in pain, but in consideration. "Kesh will always be personal," she said. "But not untouched." Her gaze did not waver as she continued, voice steady and deliberate.
"My father-in-law has already begun the work of rebuilding it. Quietly. Carefully. It was something I had a hand in—after he returned from the dead, and before I came back to Commenor."

The admission was not dramatic. It did not need to be. The weight of it spoke for itself.

"It is not restoration yet," Zesiro continued. "It is preparation. Infrastructure. Shelter. The slow, unglamorous work that makes survival possible." A faint, resolved smile touched her lips. "If we begin there, it would not be reopening an old wound—it would be strengthening a scar."

When Vexia spoke again of pace—of slow dances, of reassurance rather than pressure—Zesiro found herself easing further into the booth. Not yielding, but settling. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For saying that aloud. For allowing me to speak if I need to slow things down." A beat passed. "I will."

The faint music beyond the private space filtered back into her awareness.

"A slow dance," Zesiro repeated, thoughtful rather than hesitant. "That seems… appropriate." She shifted just slightly closer—enough to acknowledge the invitation, not enough to escalate it. "Movement without urgency. Presence without expectation."

Her gaze met Vexia's, calm and sincere.

"Finish the wine," she said gently. "Tell me more about what you envision—for Kesh, for the Outer Rim… for us working together."
Then, softer still:
"And when the moment feels right… I will dance with you."

No rush. No retreat. Only intention.

Vexia Tahl