Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Unknown Possibilities (Ijaat)

Marshal, Journeyman Protector
Serenno - Government District
Star Port - Bar and Grill

It had been a shitty few days for Arla. Dealing with bureaucrats was never pleasant, and she'd been demolishing many petty kingdoms in her winnowing through the UGF's intelligence ministry. Three days of meetings, mostly firing those who weren't needed, merging some departments under new leaders, and listening to endless self-serving protests.

To boot, she'd lost a close friend at the beginning of the week, and hadn't had time to process the grief. That loss was what had brought her to Serenno. She'd met with her friend's parents and siblings, and expressed her condolences. It had been difficult, and she'd left and returned to her shuttle to brood, and check the transmissions from Qena.

Arla had come out in the early evening to a local establishment for dinner and a drink after doing some remote work. Now it was getting late, and she'd just decided to head home and try to get some sleep.

Still wearing her diplomatic outfit, which was a formal black suit with a conservative skirt, she walked to the outside for the short jaunt to the space port. Thankfully she'd selected sensible footwear instead of heels, which she found murder to walk any sort of distance in. Tonight she was sleeping on her shuttle, having not wanted to impose on the grieving relatives, and not wanting to bother with the local hotels. As she was flying herself, she would sleep now and make the trip back to Qena would save for the morning.

The Echani Commander was exiting the bar when she was bumped by a burly man in the robes the wealthy assclowns wore around here. She caught herself, and was going to ignore the insult, assuming he'd apologize. He did not. Despite his rich baritone Serenno accent, his words were coarse and more than unfriendly.

"Stupid slut."

And just like that, the incident went from one that could be ignored to one that would not. Despite herself, her anger rose, and she turned on the man and roared defiantly into his face. She was not going to take that. Not ever, not here, not now, and not from him or anyone else.

"No!"

Of their own volition, her hands came up before her, and she lashed out hard with a palm strike to the man's chest. How dare he? Too angry to think straight, Arla didn't recognize that the rude clown had provided an outlet for her to release much of her pent up frustration. Her jacket had torn open as she'd struck, but she didn't even notice.

Behind the bastard was another man who had the look of a Mandalorian, a guy she assumed was a friend or associate of the rude asshat who had just abused her in public. The man she shoved backwards caught Ijaat Mereel Ijaat Mereel squarely, and she presumed he too deserved what came for having such a rude nerf herder for a companion. They'd hit the ground and learn their lesson. To hell with them both, anyway, in her mind.

She was not expecting the encounter to go further, and hadn't come heavily armed. A holdout blaster in one of her boots, and her baton concelaled in a sleeve were her only nods in the direction of the altar of almighty security. Serenno wasn't known for its trouble and this was a decent district too.

Trouble, however, could come up anywhere, and this might yet just prove to be a life-changing encounter. But Arla was pissed off and not thinking that at all. She just wanted to get home, and this moron had ticked her off. Not happening. Now she'd had to stop and deal with his shit.
 

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