Public The Only Easy Day...

[Tibera Jessen]

Location: Ataria Island , Spira
Objective: Unwind for once
Tags: Nolan ork , <Open!>

Tibera was a war dog, she was particularly keen on fighting for her supper. However, money was nothing if never spent. So she often indulged in the finer things in life when she could! Trips to Spira's most exclusive island resort was something most mercs dreamed about, but she actually managed to get here. None too soon if she was honest. After all the crazy things she'd seen, it'd be nice to switch heavy armor for beachwear.

She adjusted her shades, looking across the beach as she neared one of the resort's man beach bars! She could get used to the scenery, that was for sure. It would be a shame not to take things slow, just sip a fruity beverage and kick her feet up. No need to carry a blaster or anything, that was probably the biggest adjustment that she had to make.

"What'll ya have," A rather well mannered droid said as it shook a drink shaker in its primary hands. "I am programmed in five thousand possible drink combinations! Only seventy-seven of which are incompatible with human amino acids."

Well, that was a surprisingly large number, it actually gave Tibera a mild chuckle. "Cosmic blazer, make it strong," The woman said in reply, making sure to lay some credits on the bar top.

The droid's mechanical arms whirred as it mixed up an extremely bright mix of reds and oranges, several forms of alcohol and fruit juices. True to its name, it was a layered beverage that looked practically radioactive. It was the sort of drink you could smell before it got to your face. She didn't drink like this often, but there was no need to worry about staying sober for patrol right now. She could tie one on and that was exactly what she planned to do.

As she sipped in the quiet of the bar, a boat's horn filled the air. More tourists coming to the island, more fresh faces mingling in a place that greeted them with open arms. Tibera figured the bar might pick up soon, who knew? Hell, more company would probably just make the place a little more interesting!

 

[Nolan ork]

“Hey yall who’s having a good time?” Nolan walks into the bar then removes his hood then takes off his helmet

 

[Tibera Jessen]

Tags: Nolan ork

Well that was an odd thing to hear, a Mandalorian that said Y'all. Most mandos that Tibera knew had sticks shoved firmly up their beskar-plated backsides. Guess statistically there had to be a few of them that liked to cut loose.

Tibera gave a wave to Nolan, sipping at her drink before standing from the barstool. "Definitely not having a bad time. Gotta ask though, what brings a Mando all the way to Spira? It's not exactly close to Mandalor after all."

Maybe this guy just came back from somewhere? His beskar didn't look polished, so that was a possibility. If nothing else they could trade war stories back and forth. That would be an alright way to spend an afternoon.

 

[Nolan ork]

“Heard about this place from a friend and I could really use a vacation after months of putting away criminals”

 

[Nolan ork]

“It’s not easy work but the pay is good” heads to bar and asks the bartender for some spotchka

 

[Tibera Jessen]

Location: Ataria Island , Spira
Objective: Unwind for once
Tags: Nolan ork

"Putting away criminals? Tough work being a lawman, certainly doesn't pay well. Though, you'll probably never have the end of work... Lotta scum out there..."

Some days Tibera was pretty sure she was part of the scum of the galaxy. She'd ended quite a few lives, but it was all in a quasi-legal setting. These were reasons she carried a flask. Too much to think about, not enough time to decompress. Now really wasn't the time to get mushy and feel-y.

"So Lawman, got any plans going for this vacation of yours? As for me, I'm doing my level best to just relax for a week. Too much work, not enough play ya know?"

She nursed her own drink a while, before the bartender droid came around with the Mando's drink. Something about this guy seemed quirky, but definitely not bad. Could be worth getting to know someone like Nolan, if only because he was easy to talk to. "Name's Tibera by the way, it's good to meet someone else who specializes in busting heads."

 

[Nolan ork]

“the name’s Nolan, former Jedi, devoted mandalorian and someone who is very good at his job but I’m not gonna toot my horn”

 

[Nolan ork]

“As for my plans just looking for some R and R and hoping to make some friends”

 

[Kieran Ash]

Spira felt strangely unreal.
Not because it lacked authenticity, but because it possessed the sort of peace Kieran had spent years forgetting existed. The sea rolled lazily against the docks, carrying the scent of salt instead of coolant and machine oil. Laughter drifted across the waterfront from cafés and beach bars where people seemed content to waste entire afternoons doing nothing at all. It was a world away from the industrial skylines and rain-soaked alleyways where he usually earned his living, and for perhaps the first time in months he found himself standing still simply because there was nowhere he needed to be.

The ferry disappeared behind him as he adjusted the strap of the old duffel slung over one shoulder. It was a modest bag for someone who wandered the galaxy for a living, though most of its weight came from tools rather than spare clothes. Old habits were difficult to break. Even on holiday, he couldn't quite convince himself to leave everything behind.

A cigarette found its way between his lips as he wandered without any real destination in mind. He'd promised himself this trip would be different. No contracts. No investigations. No clients insisting their problem couldn't wait another day. Just warm weather, decent food and enough time to remember what people actually did when they weren't constantly useful to someone else. He wasn't entirely convinced such people existed.

His feet eventually carried him towards a small café overlooking the water. It hadn't been a conscious decision. Years of drifting from city to city had taught him to trust his instincts for finding somewhere quiet enough to think and busy enough to disappear into the crowd. Sliding onto an empty stool, he glanced over the menu for a moment before looking up at the server.

"I'll have a caf." His eyes wandered briefly across the brightly coloured drinks displayed behind the counter before an amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"…Actually, surprise me. Whatever people order when they're trying to enjoy themselves."

 

[Nolan ork]

“hello stranger I’m Nolan and who might you be”

 

[Tibera Jessen]

Location: Ataria Island , Spira
Objective: Unwind for once
Tags: Nolan ork Kieran Ash

The small beachside cafe was packing in quickly, several people were ordering drinks now. Thankfully the droid behind the bar was able to handle the influx of orders rather quickly. It was a mixture of spectacle and inhuman efficiency, with many flourishes that even a seasoned human bartended might have issue performing! One by one strong drinks slid down the bar top, including a fruity pink beverage for Kieran. Apparently the droid had a sense of humor...

Tibera followed Nolan back to the bar, sipping her drink as Nolan casually spoke to the glum looking figure. "You're probably the most personable Mandalorian I've ever met," She said as she leaned against the bar. It was clear this guy had seen some chit.

"Next drink is on me, you look like you could use it." Her words were somewhat somber, as if she could tell the other man had something he was going through. In reality it was just guesstimation based on how he looked into his drink. Tibera knew what it was like to be searching for something in the bottom of a glass.

Whether it was mourning lost friends, or it was unravelling a heartbreak, that was to be seen. She'd been through plenty of both. Even on Spira, a tropical paradise world, there were dark clouds that could hang over someone. Clouds that could be chased away with a stiff drink and some mingling.

 

[Nolan ork]

“Yeah l’m not quite drunk yet and I vow to get drunk on every planet I visit”

 

[Kieran Ash]

Tibera Jessen Nolan ork
Kieran studied the pink drink sitting before him. It smelled aggressively sweet, the sort of cocktail designed for holidays rather than people who usually found themselves eating ration bars in the cockpit of a shuttle.

Before he could take another sip, something stirred at the edge of his awareness.
It was faint. Little more than a ripple, like standing waist-deep in still water and feeling someone disturb the surface somewhere beyond the morning mist. The sensation lingered only for a moment before settling again, but it was enough to draw his attention toward the Mandalorian. Force-sensitive. The thought came instinctively, followed almost immediately by a quiet sigh directed at himself. He'd promised this trip would be different. A holiday. No contracts. No investigations. Yet here he was, absent-mindedly reading strangers the way other people might read a menu.

His gaze met Nolan's as the question was asked. "Kieran." Nothing more seemed necessary.

His attention drifted toward the woman as she offered to pay for his next drink. Years of experience had left habits that were difficult to silence. There was an easy confidence in the way she carried herself, the sort that usually belonged to people who had spent long enough wearing armour that they never quite stopped moving as though it were still there. He caught himself again. Relax. The word had become less of an instruction and more of a reminder. A faint smile finally appeared.
"I appreciate the offer," he said, lifting the glass slightly in acknowledgement. "But I prefer to spend the credits I earned. Makes it easier to keep the ledger balanced."

 

[Silas Wrenn]

Location: Ataria Island, Spira
Objective: Forced Q1 Hibernation (Relaxation)
Tags: Tibera Jessen | Nolan ork | Kieran Ash

Silas Drake felt entirely out of uniform.

For the first time in three fiscal quarters, his skin wasn't sealed beneath the suffocating, climate-controlled layers of his Aegis-VII hazard rig. Instead, he sat at the edge of the bustling beach bar wearing a casual civilian tunic, dark shades shielding his eyes from Spira's blinding, pristine sun. His friend and fixer, Jaxen Vance, had practically threatened to freeze his anonymous bank accounts if Silas didn't take the voucher and "decompress." With The Wayward Horizon currently locked in a secure drydock undergoing a mandatory, forty-eight-hour chemical purge of its toxic atmospheric scrubbers, Silas truly had nowhere else to be, and could hardly think of anywhere better to take a rare few days for himself.

But his old corporate habits were a lingering disease. Even stripped of his thermal HUD, Silas's eyes were actively doing calculus. He scanned the crowded, sand-strewn pavilion, mapping out the structural emergency exits, evaluating the repulsor-lift vectors of the incoming tourist boats, and calculating how quickly a civilian crowd would panic if a localized disaster struck.

A heavy sigh escaped him. Relax, Drake. No contracts today.

His attention drifted to the trio gathering a few stools down. A woman with the unmistakable, balanced posture of an active merc; a boisterous Mandalorian shouting greetings without his helmet; and a quiet, brooding newcomer staring down a vibrant, aggressively pink cocktail.

Silas chuckled quietly under his breath, signaling the bartender droid. He had spent a lifetime dragging people just like them out of burning bulk freighters, collapsed mining tiers, and dark underworld holding cells. Watching them willingly try to drown their collective war-trauma in fruity alcohol was a fascinating change of pace. It was a welcome, surreal respite. Usually, when Silas met people with those specific, hardened eyes, they were screaming for oxygen or handcuffed to a bulkhead. Here, the only hazard was a hangover.

"Make it a Corellian whiskey, neat," Silas told the whirring droid, laying a few crisp, perfectly legal credits on the bar.

As his drink slid forward, Silas turned his stool slightly toward the group, his posture easy but his professional gaze sharp. He caught the tail end of the brooding man's comment about keeping the ledger balanced.

"Spoken like a man who has spent too much time dealing with corporate accountants," Silas called out, his voice a calm, resonant baritone that carried easily over the crashing of the lazily rolling surf. "Wish I didn't know the pain", he said with a smirk. He lifted his glass toward Kieran, Tibera, and Nolan in a loose, universal spacer's salute. "Hopefully, friend, the board of directors isn't auditing our margins today. Drink the pink fluid before the lawman over there fulfills his planetary quota and steals it."

---

 

[Tibera Jessen]

Location: Ataria Island , Spira
Objective: Unwind for once
Tags: Kieran Ash Nolan ork Silas Wrenn

Some girls dreamed of having this much attention. For Tibera it was utterly overwhelming! She had a Mando force user, a gloomy guy with a forced smile, and what seemed like an older fellow with a much more affable tone. It was the kind of mismatched group that planets like Spira were known for. Folks of all walks of life were drawn to worlds like this, but groups like this were all too common in the bars across the galaxy.

Seems everyone was avoiding talking about their work, it was interesting. Tibera never fully switched off from her job as a mercenary. She was ambitious as far as soldiers of fortune went. She wasn't satisfied being another hired gun, she wanted to actually make an impact out there.

"Ya know, seems like we all have some practiced gun hands, if we wanted to it could be big trouble for somebody," She began, finishing her drink with one final gulp. "I think we could make a chitload of credits if we all got together..."

She gave a wry grin, hopping up onto a bar stool. She was already imagining what a bunch of freelancers could get into. "But for now let's all enjoy the credits we already made. Like the big guy was saying, worked too hard to make them not to have a good drink!"

Tibera looked to Kieran and chuckle, he was cute when he smiled, even if it seemed a tad insincere. She placed her back to the bar and looked down at him. There was an obvious comfort and playfulness to her, one that didn't come from liquid courage. She was here to enjoy herself, and a big part of that was shedding her shell, both figuratively and literally!

"So Kieran, what's got a guy like you on Spira? Just trying to drink, or are you looking for something more substantial than booze?"

 

[Kieran Ash]

Silas Wrenn Tibera Jessen Nolan ork

He took a sip of his deathly sweet pink drink. A new man had joined the growing group. Speaking of corporations. Kieran could see how his earlier comment about ledgers could have led to that assumption, but he didn't feel the need to correct the individual.

At the mention of someone else taking his drink, he looked at it. If he was being honest with himself, it tasted more like syrup than anything people willingly consumed. However, he did pay for it, and did promise himself he would give this holiday thing a try.

He took another sip of his drink and looked up at Tibera. He held her gaze for a moment before looking back down at the drink, suddenly finding the condensation on the glass strangely interesting. "Honestly," He placed the half empty glass on the bar.

"I'm still trying to work out how people spend holidays." He waved down the bar droid. "Can I have something else.?" He slid a cred stick over the bar before turning his attention back to Tibera. A slight awkward smile. "Everyone kept telling me I needed one." His gaze moved around the bar. His eyes wandered briefly to the newcomer before he caught himself again.

"Turns out nobody tells you what you're supposed to do once you get here." The bar droid slid a neon blue drink in front of Kieran. He didn't think it possible for a drink to be brighter than the pink drink, yet this new cocktail proved him wrong.

 

[Nolan ork]

“Yeah I bet we could find jobs that would make us so much money”

 

[Silas Wrenn]

Location: Ataria Island, Spira
Objective: Unwind, Make new friends
Tags: Kieran Ash | Tibera Jessen | Nolan ork

Silas took a slow, appreciative sip of his Corellian whiskey, letting the sharp burn cut through the thick tropical air. He couldn't help but shake his head as the bartender droid slid that blindingly bright, neon-blue concoction over to Kieran. It looked less like a beverage and more like unrefined hyperdrive coolant.

"Don't feel too bad, friend," Silas said, turning his barstool toward Kieran with an easy, understanding grin. "The first day of R&R is always the hardest. You spend the whole time waiting for a proximity alarm to trip or a client to scream down your comm-line with a crisis. You start looking at a simple lounge chair like it's a trap."

He gestured with his glass toward the glowing blue fluid. "Rule number one on vacation: if the drink glows bright enough to double as a landing beacon, you're on the right track. What do you normally do out there that makes sitting still feel this strange?"

His gaze then drifted back over to Tibera and Nolan as their talk immediately shifted from merely spending their credits to aggressively scheming up a brand new joint venture. The mercenary's wry grin and the Mandalorian's eager agreement about finding a crew to chase a massive payout made Silas chuckle. Leave it to a bunch of gun-hands to turn a pristine beach paradise into a merc hiring hall within five minutes of sitting down. Habits really do die hard, he thought to himself with a smirk.

"Careful there, sister," Silas warned Tibera, his voice laced with easy, grounded humor. "You all start throwing around talk about putting a crew together, and my legal contact back in the Core will track me down just to ruin my weekend. I'm under strict orders to not even look at a contract or starship blueprint for the next forty-eight hours. It's like he doesnt know me at all"

He leaned his elbow against the bar, his sharp gaze softening just a fraction as he looked at the mismatched trio.

"Though, I can't deny you've got the right idea. A Mandalorian lawman, a heavy-armor merc, and an lawdog... if you three did actually pool your talents, you'd be a nightmare for any pirate cartel trying to lock down a sector. I mostly run with a droid crew when I'm pulling people out of hot zones to cut down on variables, but sometimes a job goes sideways and you need some serious flesh-and-blood muscle on the landing pad."

Silas tapped his glass against the bar top, raising it once more to the group. "But for right now? Let's let the galaxy burn itself down without our help today. The factions can afford the insurance losses. Name's Silas, by the way. Pleasure to meet ya'll."

 

[Nolan ork]

“Yeah a little vacation can’t hurt”

 

[Kieran Ash]

Silas Wrenn Tibera Jessen Nolan ork

Kieran looked at the bright neon blue drink. Taking a sip. It tasted impossibly sweet. As though someone had decided sugar was a flavour in its own right. Too sweet for Kieran's taste, but he could see the appeal.

He turned to Silas. "Good to meet you Silas." Glancing at the glass of Corellian whiskey in his hand. "Bold first rule coming from someone drinking a beverage the colour of honey." He wasn't trying to sound judgmental. He was genuinely curious why the man advocating brightly coloured drinks was holding something altogether more sensible. Sure he could assume Silas also work a stressful job and hand trouble switching off like Kieran did, but he was trying desperately to stop profiling while on holiday.

He took another sip of his blue drink. "As for what I do, Silas.." Trying to find the simplest truthful answer. Parts of his work weren't exactly legal in every sector so it helped to not advertise the full extent of what he does for work. "I solve problems." He paused to gaze into the glass. The condensation forming around the outside of the glass and the way light passed through the liquid suddenly becoming worthy of inspection. "Usually someone else's. If it's something I'm suited for."

He glanced at the other two. Tibera and Nolan. Both seemed interesting in their own ways.