we of the shadows

[Kishala Vi'dreya]

Kishala Vi'dreya
Location: The Hub, Golbah City, Geonosis
Status: Drained
Tags: [member="Alkor Centaris"] & [member="Kyle Whir"]

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Kishala of House Vi’dreya stood within the blessed shade, her brows furrowed and silvered eyes narrowed in a mien of deep contemplation. Immaculately dressed in an elegant dress of cobalt, the pale lady held a slim datapad and a finely engraved case in a hand, balancing them both against her hip as she continued to ruminate on her dilemma of the day.

It was a matter of gravest concern, indeed.

For her favoured teashop laid across the boulevard.

And Ea continued to shine brightly above, unmoved by her suffering.

While the capital was a marvelous blend of urbane architecture and modern amenities, it was still located the arid wastelands of Geonosis. With the lack of water on its surface and dense atmosphere, the air was dry and scorching, it was uncomfortable to say the least. After all, the pale lady resided on the world of shadows for much of her life, where it was dark and cool, and most of the natural light source were from the glow of its flora and fauna.

While Kishala has been residing on planet for the past week, she still had a small twinge of dread whenever she was overcome by the desire to wander out of the protection of her home. And as her favourite teashop was nestled in a small little backlane near the edge of the area, the pale lady has taken a longer, more winding path towards it. Moving from shade to shade to offer some reprieve to her sensitive eyes and pale skin, her feet was beginning to ache from the exertion.

Without the escort of her usual coterie, Kishala allowed a faint frown to alight on her painted lips. With the sun at its zenith, she was almost tempted to concede defeat…

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyle Whir
Geonosis, Golbah City, The Hub
Nearby: [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"], [member="Alkor Centaris"]

Kyle's hands pull the blue helmet with its' distinctive light blue transparisteel visor over their nape and gave one tug at the tight gorget sitting around throat. It was a stark contrast to the combat powersuit they had worn on the surface of Eshan during that world's scouring. What they wore on the comparatively peaceful and stable Geonosis was the black bodysuit, tan fatigues and Navy Blue body armoured uniform of Coruscant Security Force, there was no necessity for the powersuit although Kyle had been sure to take it with them for you never knew when the tumultuous galaxy was going to throw a war your war or atleast that was the former soldier's rather paranoid thoughts. Kyle had been sent to Geonosis for the purpose of delivering some intelligence briefs regarding individuals suspected of being involved in interstellar organised crime to Golbah's local Law Enforcement agencies. Thinking of their duty for a moment looking at their tall reflection cast in a mirror. "Been a long time since the Stormtrooper Corps, hasn't it?" Kyle's annunciator deep baritone voice distorted by their helmet asks themselves their left palm reaching out to the porcelain basin and wrapping fingers gently around a Durasteel ring with keys ratling along its' surface.

Pivoting in their black boots armoured in a sheath of Cerulean Kyle made for their lofty hotel room's door, hand jerks the steel handle towards the floor swinging it open with a gentle push. "Oh Wow." A woman with gold burnished skin walking down the hallway towards the elevator remarks as the giant Cop emerged abruptly from a door to her left, the woman's steps slowed for a minute giving this wordless giant clad in a tan uniform and brilliant well-polished unblemished indigo armour a wide berth. Kyle heeded the woman's presence little, their mind fixated on a scheduled meeting with Centaris and this 'Kishala' woman. Instructed to dress 'nicely' Kyle did the only thing their First Imperial brainwashed mind thought of when told to dress 'smartly' by their unlikely friend in Alkor and opted to wear the same thing they wore when working. No doubt, the Security Officer's decision was going to earn an amused smirk at the very least from Centaris later. A long awkward silence fills the air while the pair of contrasting figures awaited the arrival of a turbolift several dozen floors below them. "You're not from around here are you?" Friendly, their unsolicited Company asked and Kyle is forced to steadily turn their head in this voice's direction.

The Woman's skin was an attractive dusky colour to Kyle's hazel sphere and although his face remains expressionless part of the Officer's mind appreciated the interruption, unsure of how to answer that question they opt instead for the simple solution. "No, I'm not." The Turbolift's numbered light crowning a pair of pursed door 'dinged' loudly, Kyle took two steps forward for the woman's four by virtue of their difference in height which was easily over a foot. The stout-legged Human Woman continued to look upto the curious man, their voice had sounded like a deep metallic rumble. "What's wrong with your voice?" The way she folded her arms and leaned against the walls with eyes cast in a longing gaze made Kyle uncomfortable forcing the Officer to turn their featureless aqua coloured visor towards the woman from the doors where their almond-shaped spheres had previously stared. "Helmet annunciator distorter. Keeps CORSECFOR Officers anonymous." Kyle pivots their hips and torso slightly and points to a dark blue badge worn proudly on breastplate with the following information on its' surface "SERGEANT 07/0125" The faceless Sergeant's had been replaced by a warrant number, despite their budding friendship Alkor had yet to lay eyes upon the skin of Kyle's face or hear Whir's voice unaltered.

"Oh so you're a Cop?" She already knew the answer but asked it anyway, in an attempt to keep the conversation with such a strapping sinewy giant going their guarded presentation just had to be pierced although she would never get a chance with the Turbolift settling on the ground floor. "Yeah, Coruscant." Kyle's head swivels in direction of doors looking to them with eyes in a begging look, asking them wordless to "Please let me get away from this woman, and her damn questions" They ignored the outward musing sound of pursed lips. "I've never been to Coruscant, I'd like to hear about it, come over to room three-zero-two later? We'll go and get Coffee." She left the cylindrical tube of their turbolift first with Kyle's hands remaining limp beside a pair of reinforced duraplast plates covering the outside thighs for several seconds observing her departure. Kyle received a beaming warm split-lip smile from that woman and forced something resembling a smirk upon the former's face behind their veil, throttling through their dour and stern demeanour. Kyle thought of the woman's offer for a moment and found it wordlessly hilarious that their invitation involved Coffee, not that they'd decided to turn the kind offer down but rather they currently journeyed towards a teashop that served Coffee for the purpose of meeting with Centaris and some ambiguous 'Friend' of theirs.

The hot mid-day sun beat aggressively against Kyle's armour, its' environmental controls kept its' wearer's skin at a lower more comfortable temperature than what the poor Civvies walking alongside them must have been experiencing, about five minutes of walking passes and the gigantic figure shuffles into the appointed Teashop Rendezvous. It was quiet, most speaking in hushed tones even before the arrival of such an intimidating presence. Kyle secluded themselves into a corner of the room at a table pressed against a wall marked by a length of leathery benches, stealing the bench quickly it had been obvious to the briefest examination of those sharing the room that Centaris had not yet arrived and would not permit the man to steal the more comfortable seating away. Despite working as a Security Officer Kyle had not fulfilled the common stereotype of becoming addicted to Coffee, their kidneys and endocrine system reduced its' impact on them to nothing, they did however possess a fondness for warm tea and iced beverages although they had already resolved not to consume any here as tempting as the menu above the employees working behind a glass display filled with enticing pastries appeared. For doing that would require Kyle to breach their anonymity and remove the helmet concealing their features.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Golbah City, The Hub

How [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] would pull it off, the Corellian could only guess. Isley had sent her over some envoy or trusted servant, so he had to keep faith. Soon enough he would see how these more delicate procedures were handled- after all, legally, he couldn't just strut into the Confederate capital and expect to be hailed as the Vicelord's Brother.

There were legal avenues to be respected. Or, at least, respected on the surface. He was meeting with someone who was good at making who he had been, not matter. A former enemy of the State would hardly be allowed citizenship. That was something they had all decided resoundingly.

So, when he entered the small shop, he was bleakly dressed in dark clothing. His torso and arms were bandaged entirely. The Dark Jedi stuffed both hands in his pockets as he glanced toward where [member="Kyle Whir"], astoundingly still winner for best dressed- waited.

"You know how to keep a low profile, huh?" he muttered in a low voice as he took a seat behind the juggernaut of a Security Officer and reclined. "The contact is either already here or en route to this location, so sit tight.

The lack of a drink in their hand told Alkor that it was business as usual for Mr. CORSECFOR, but that was fine. It wasn't like they served anything alcoholic at this place, anyway. "Can I get you a drink?" the woman who had harassed Kyle moments before came to ask of the smaller man.

"Coruscanti styled Black, if you can," he made a more cultured order- something he'd learned in his time as an assassin. The more refined your tastes, the more believable your stiff upper lip. When it came to passing for high class, Alkor would need all the help he could get.

"Any stim in that?" she smiled, but he shook his head no. She took her time putting in the order as Alkor settled into his spot. "About two minutes," she told him.

He closed his eyes and waited.

 

[Kishala Vi'dreya]

Kishala Vi'dreya
Location: The Hub, Golbah City, Geonosis
Status: Amused
Tags: [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Kyle Whir"] | [member="Srina Talon"]

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It was with a soft sigh of relief that she stepped into the shop, the gentle tinkling of the bell a most welcoming sound to the beleaguered lady. Almost immediately, she could sense a faintly familiar swirl of dark energy emanating from the one Isley has named brother – Alkor Centaris.

Even though she stayed well away from the arena of intergalactic politics, preferring to stay within the shadows, it would be remiss of Kishala to say that she had not caught whispers of his name prior to their family gathering on Ryloth.

And after they had parted ways on that fateful night?

It was with the quiet determination of someone who wanted to protect the only sibling she had for the longest time that the aether witch had gathered what little information she could find on his person. But it had been a delicate balance, as she had not wanted to intrude too profoundly into Alkor’s past without being given permission. Because while Kishala may be apathetic to a great many things in life, family was not one of them. So while she would always remain curious, she would allow the other to maintain a semblance of privacy.

The pale lady crafted a faint smile as she was greeted by the her usual waitress, a pleasant enough person, but also observant enough to realise that Kishala would much rather be left to her solitude. Placing her order, a cool fruity and floral drink that she usually favoured after her long journey, and several additional orders of light sandwiches and pâtisseries for her waiting company.

Allowing his presence to guide her steps, the lady made her way towards the more secluded area of the teashop, her steps slowing when she noticed the hulking figure squeezed into the further corner. And perhaps she would not have paid him any heed, but when one was dressed in what was clearly the uniform and helmet of a security force, he… stood out, blatantly.

The neutral smile Kishala wore twitched as she sidled into the seat before the other, her eyes gleaming with unveiled amusement. “Greetings, Alkor. I hope I did not keep you waiting for long?” Her glance swept over his person, taking in the faint slump in his shoulders. “How have you been?” she decided to ask, exchanging pleasantries as they waited for the final person of their little rendezvous to arrive.

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

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Location: Golbah City
Tags: [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Kyle Whir"]

Home.

Naedira glanced up toward the bright sky from behind a pair of no-nonsense shades and breathed deeply. The air was dry. So, dry. And good karking heaven was it hot. It felt good. The Knight Obsidian had stashed away her Strike Armor though she still wore a Holo-Comm. She never went anywhere without it. Her Apprentice, [member="Lucien Rayne"], got into more trouble than she could shake a stick at. The young woman had ushered him off for a physical and a subsequent round of dueling within the Citadel.

A faint smirk lingered on her lips at the notion of the metric ton of whining he was sure to do later. It was his own doing, really. He wanted to be more like [member="Alkor Centaris"]. One glance at the former Mandalorian turned Sithy-Boogalo and the noble from Illyra was entirely love-struck. Were she not worried that some of the thick-headed brashness would rub off on her already headstrong student, she wouldn’t have minded, but as it stood—both were her problem.

Her slender form was wrapped in a plain red sleeveless top with a pair of low slung leathers that tucked into flat heeled boots. She had a jacket slung lazily over her left shoulder while long auburn hair had been pulled back into a hasty ponytail. Somehow, despite the lack of attention to her appearance, she seemed casually put together. Not elegant, like @Kishala Vi’dreya, but she wasn’t a street rat either. At the end of the day she was a Knight. An Executor. “Sorry I’m late.”, she tossed to the group, not realizing, that they might have been expecting the Exarch herself.

Srina was still on Eshan. Some of her brothers and sisters in the barracks were whispering about how she might stay on her homeworld to protect it. No one was really sure what to think.

“Naedira Darcrath.”

[member="Alkor Centaris"] and the CORSEC Copper, [member="Kyle Whir"], already knew who she was. Hopefully, he’d given up on collecting his bounty. There was a telltale shape beneath her shirt at the base of her spine. A sidearm, small, but functional. Sheathed within the side of her boot lay a thin blade. As safe as Golbah City was—nothing was perfect. The Nabooian native had been instructed to stay close to Centaris, and thus, she did. He’d performed better than expected on Eshan. The former-bucket-head had killed the Monster of Relovian. It held a lot more weight than he knew. “Exarch Talon sends her apologies, however, I’ve been entrusted to help with whatever task you require.”

Even dressed in plainclothes over her armor it was clear that Naedira was fond of a chain of command. Personally, she liked rules. Order. She like knowing exactly what her goals were supposed to be for the day. Especially, when there were Vi’dreya involved. Somehow, those escapades usually went sideways in a right hurry.

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyle Whir
Geonosis, Golbah City, The Hub
Nearby: [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"], [member="Naedira Darcrath"]

Kyle's ears heard a heavy something slump down in the booth behind their shoulders earning a slight pivot of their helmeted head, Alkor's voice is carried on the wind low and the Coruscant Security Force Sergeant couldn't help but allow a brief mechanical chuckle to leave their annunciator. "Got a meeting with some Golbah PeeDee Staff, going to hand over some intelligence reports to them." Kyle stated simply, their left gauntlet sheathed hand tapped gently at a black leather pouch on their belt whilst rising to their full height of six and a half feet looking down over the Dwarfed Centaris. "We've been performing some investigations that involve some organised crime syndicates that maintain operations in both of our jurisdictions." An empty DC-15A Blaster Rifle holster hung stapped to the thigh plate fastened to the Sergeant's right leg. It was kept in the embassy, not the place of a Coruscanti Cop to openly carry a weapon on confederate streets yet they wore the holster all the same. A Security Officer who went outside without it was improperly dressed in Kyle's mind, that and it was in-fact regulation to wear it as part of Operational Field Dress which they were currently wearing in what some might have misconstrued as pride.

Sitting across a table from Centaris, Kyle threw one arm lazily over the spine of their chair and allowed their legs to spread in an outward display of relaxedness not exhibited the last time they were together drenched in blood and covered in scabbing wounds. Studying Alkor's features for a moment the manic Security Sergeant offered their unlikely friend a small smirk hidden behind their opaque aqua-coloured visor. "You don't look bad when you're not half dead." Gallows humour was popular amongst soldiers, cops and emergency services personnel a grin was obviously plastered across Kyle's veiled visage. A dusky-skinned woman approached the two seated at their table and Kyle hardened at the stranger's intrusion although it wouldn't have been entirely accurate or honest to describe this woman as such, recalling the earlier conversation shared between them Kyle's mind received more questions than answers to see that palatable pair of eyes and curled hair here in this teashop. Hazel Orbs couldn't help but linger on the woman as she walked away but in their wake another young lady with startling silvery hair takes their places and immediately captures the Sergeant's Attention.

Kyle rapidly adopted a more austere and rigid posture sitting up and placing gloved wrists upon the table, the contrast between the polished glistening albeit scratched armoured gauntlets and the unblemished oak surface they rested upon is startling. Kishala slumped down on Kyle's side of the table and firstly greeted Centaris, it didn't take a genius to conclude there was some history or kinship between the two one could forgive Kyle for mistaking the connection being formed in some historical romance for these two to the Officer's Hazel Eyes looked nothing alike. In Kyle's defence the Sergeant was not a detective but rather a full-time tactical operations Officer even if they had been tasked to deliver some menial intelligence to the local boys in blue, or purple rather. Offering a hand towards the newcomer. "Sergeant Whir, Coruscant Security Force. And you are?" Kyle's voice glowered in a stern coldness that could have chilled even the most passionate of Sith Lords, the vocal distorter had a habit of doing that making their speech a rumbling masculine baritone that some found attractive and others garish and offensive to the ears. Kishala would find Kyle's grip crushing although for the latter it was an excruciatingly gentle squeeze, there existed another reason why the Sergeant relenting from ordering something to drink in that their hands threatened to crush all but the sturdiest ceramic. It was a side effect of their augmentations, and so pervasive was this superhuman strength that Kyle's home on Coruscant featured transparisteel glasses for drinking that cost a small fortune, yet had proven resistant to being easily squished.

Yet another stepped forth to join the Party, a woman who Kyle didn't immediately recognise as the warrior encountered on the surface of Eshan. Straightening somewhat, out of respect for their courage if not fear. The Sergeant's helmet inclined towards the ceiling slightly in an outward gesture of their approval whatever it was worth to Naedira. After a cursory examination with their dark orbs, Kyle discovered Darcrath yet wore armour beneath their clothing, and this also earned a slight bit approval for its' utilitarianism, which fondly reminded Whir of years gone by within the First Order. "Exarch Talon? Now there is a woman of significant renown within the core." Intoning in a deep passionless rumble, their voice betrayed a certain approval and Kyle is familiar with the name from before their meeting on Eshan in-fact. Gaze turned back to Alkor, a toothy grin split the pair of claret red lips showing pristine white porcelain teeth. Not that anybody could see the expression. "With friends like that, why sneak around Centaris? I'm sure you could just apply for political asylum. If you go home you're liable to be brutally murdered all things considered." The reminder came coldly although not unkindly and with a pinch of humour evident in Kyle's voice, taking a sardonic dry pleasure in the sheer hole Alkor found themselves in. "It's at times like this I appreciate just being some unremarkable Cop." That was only half the truth, Kyle did appreciate their new life but it was a lie to claim there was no distinction to it, there existed only fifty-five Humans in a galaxy comparable to Sergeant Whir, each of them costing millions upon millions of credits to produce.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor always felt a little uneasy around lawmen. Maybe it was the whole growing up a criminal on Corellia thing, or his renown as a killer that came much later- but when [member="Kyle Whir"] mentioned he had a meeting with local law enforcement, Alkor clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

When his drink came, he thanked the woman and took a sip- then nodded. "It's good," he told her. "Thank you."

She left promptly and Alkor finished a few more sips before Sergeant Whir spoke again. "You're real pretty in your mask," he snorted, "I hear the ladies love a man in uniform.".

[member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] greeted him and Alkor smiled up at her, standing as she took her seat in the way nobility might. Manners went a long way in these exchanges. "No, not at all," he told her, "minutes at best. Just got my drink." Once she was seated, he took his own place again and added, "busy, but not awful," he made no mention of the debacle on Eshan, or the fact that his body was still reeling from the battle. "I hope you've been well."

[member="Naedira Darcrath"] chose that moment to arrive. He almost spoke, but Kyle chimed in first. "The Exarch is not someone I know well," he corrected, "we spoke in passing once. Hardly enough to warrant a pardon or asylum."

He turned to face Knight Darcrath. "I've been told to go through the channels to seek citizenship," he folded his hands, "but, seeing as I'm an enemy of the state at the moment..."

 

[Kishala Vi'dreya]

Kishala Vi'dreya
Location: The Hub, Golbah City, Geonosis
With: [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Kyle Whir"] | [member="Naedira Darcrath"]

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The shift in the poise of the male beside her was severe, much to her clear amusement even as she took his hand into her own. As the gauntleted hand closed around her own pale one, there was a faintest narrowing of her eyes at the strength of his grip. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sergeant Whir,” she spoke, not allowing any signs of her own discomfort to seep into her words.

“Kishala Vi’dreya.” Perhaps it was faintly discourteous of her not to alight any further on her associations like the giant of a male has chosen to do. But as one who walked in the underworld, the aether witch chose the path of discretion.

“It makes me glad to hear you have been keeping yourself busy.” Inclining her head in a show of satisfaction, she accepted Alkor’s words without any further query. As they were merely at the prologue of their kinship, the pale lady was not about to inquire any deeper. “I have been rather busy myself. With the shifting of the tides, I have been tying up some loose ends.”

The arrival of a new presence in form of a slender young woman was a blessing in disguise, as it allowed her own part in the niceties to fade to background. Kishala waited for the two men to speak their thoughts, only interjecting when there was a pause in conversation. “We have just arrived not long ago ourselves,” Kishala said, gesturing towards the space beside Alkor. “Please have a seat, I have ordered some light meals and cakes for us as we discuss this further.”

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

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Location: Golbah City
Tags: [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Kyle Whir"]

Naedira tilted her sunglasses down to give [member="Kyle Whir"] a steady once over before giving him a half nod as she pulled them all the way. As much as Geonosis required some sort of eye protection, wearing them indoors, was not the youngling edgy-statement she wanted to make. Since he wasn’t trying to take Centaris into custody any longer she didn’t see any need to carry on any sort of animosity. That didn’t mean that she wouldn’t watch him like a hawk, but at the very least, it didn’t seem like she was going to have to shoot him. “Exarch Talon is something all right.”

Honestly, she was a little surprised to hear that someone outside of their sphere seemed to recognize the name of the right hand of the Vicelord so easily, but, she had mentioned it on Eshan. At any rate, if anyone was going to, let it be someone from the Core. She had championed the Alliance more than any of the rest of the Viceroyalty. Rumor had it that she was even set to wed one of the former Jedi that had fought for Coruscant. The Ex-Supreme Commander. Regardless, Naedira kept moving forward until she stopped at a decent gait. Her hip cocked slightly to the side and she rest her hand on the curve.

The pretty one, no, not Centaris—@Kishala Vi’dreya pointed her toward a seat and Naedira gave her faint smile while tucking her glasses up into her hair. Her graceful gestures and soft tones were very much so reminiscent to the Exarch. Naedira had been assigned to her on many occasions. While her demeanor had at first been unsettling, mostly because the Echani barely seemed human, now, she found the familiarity a small comfort. “Thanks. My apprentice tends to get into trouble faster than a Hutt down a water slide.”, she trailed off, eyeing Centaris, before slapping him lightly in the shoulder.

“Your fault, by the way.”

Lucien had always had an eye for power. Now, after watching [member="Alkor Centaris"] fight? That’s what he wanted to do before he returned to Ilyria. That’s what he wanted to be. Naedira operated with the precision of a blade. Alkor was a raging bear. Lucien, preferred the bear.

“You left Monastery alive, Centaris. You might not know her. She knows you.”

If she didn’t—He’d be dead. It was that simple. He’d arrived to the light-sided world injured and ragged. If their Dread Queen wished him to suffer, to pay, she would have made it so. Every decision she made was based in logic. Naedira knew from experience. It was maddening, most of the time, how she could be so objective.

She took the seat beside her charge and set her jacket down over the back of the chair, before leaning, her right leg crossing neatly over her left. Naedira seemed almost like some sort of feline. Sleek and easily comfortable, despite, the fact that she was still wounded from Eshan. “Favoritism isn’t big around these ranks. So, given the circumstances—yeah. Official channels are best to travel.”

Let no one say that the Vicelord or his subordinates bent the rules. Not even for family.

“You’re about to have a fuuuun day.”

It was only then that she realized, with a small grimace, that they’d be having the same fuuuun day with him. Technically, she was off duty. One drink wouldn’t make her lose her sharpness but it would still the sass in her tongue. She smiled at the Bartender and the worker ambled on over. “Frosty sulphate, neat. Please.”

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyle Whir
Geonosis, Golbah City, The Hub
Nearby: [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"], [member="Naedira Darcrath"]

Kyle's throat made a quiet mechanical damp rumble something approaching an outward and genuine chuckle. "Yes, I have heard that said." The banter had put a fleeting smirk on their mouth that was heard but not seen, it was a strange thing but even though such a thing could be heard on their voice it was seldom expressed in the pair of warm hazel spheres that Kyle uses to see. The Navy Blue helmet that crowned their deep brown hair covered head nodded towards Kishala "A pleasure, Ma'am." After the introductions were exchanged and played between Sergeant Whir and the woman on their right the Aqua-coloured visor obscuring the Officer's features from the outside world look towards Naedira as the rich-skinned woman made some remarks regarding Monastery that Kyle agreed with, finding their joke about a Hutt and Water slide rather comical although not making this known like they had with Centaris' jest through a suppressed laugh or concealed smile.

Noting the grace with which Darcrath sits the Sergeant couldn't help but admire their fluidity of moment there was a certain strength and power to it that Kyle received with not just admiration but a small degree of caution, within their thoughts Whir concluded they were dangerous and not just in the typical sense that they are a warrior who possessed consummate skill but dangerous in the sense Darcrath seemed to ooze grace and power in equal measure which reminded the former Death Trooper of the First Order's Natasi Fortan who Kyle also considered dangerous for similar reason although the latter could never have posed a physical or combat threat to this graduate of Project: AFTERLIFE. With a steady movement, Kyle crossed their right left over left with a visible degree of caution in a successful attempt to prevent their diamond-hard polymer bonded shin bone from smacking unceremoniously into the table. "I appreciate the Confederacy respects its' own laws despite Alkor's considerable connections."

Darcrath was earning a growing respect by the minute for what Kyle believed was the markings of Integrity, though Whir's gaze looked back to Kishala the former's stomach grumbled beneath the environmentally-controlled bodysuit worn underneath their tan jumpsuit laid beneath plates of Navy Blue Reinforced Duraplast Armour. "I haven't eaten, food would be welcome. Thank you, Kishala." Even with the metallic annunciator Kyle's nasally voice spoke with a painfully overwhelming accent and upwards inflextion that was not common amongst the Coruscanti, this voice and accent while warped by the annunciator was the markings of somebody who had been raised in no small part of noble and sophisticated First Imperial society although it was seized by a certain working quality more evident amongst the working stiffs, bricklayers, miners and mercenaries than socialites.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"I need several parties to vouch for my identity, and the Vicelord is a bit too busy to make personal calls- so, thank you for opening your schedule," he told [member="Kishala Vi'dreya"] as he indicated the small collection of people who now occupied the same space. "Knight Darcrath here is a professional reference, and since they wanted personal, Isley tells me your word is pretty good around these parts. Sergeant Whir," he indicated [member="Kyle Whir"] with his thumb before taking another sip of tea, "got me safely back into Confederate space, so I invited him to tag along before he had to make his appointment."

He placed the drink in front of him and watched wordlessly as food was placed on the table. His appetite had never been very big, and the damage to his internal organs during the last battle only made it smaller. Still, he wanted to be polite. He took a cake between two fingers and took a small bite.

"What are the chances they're going to make me sit in a cell?" he asked [member="Naedira Darcrath"] morbidly. He never fancied doing things the legal way, since he had such an extensive rap sheet. "I'm not built for prison," he added bluntly.

 

[Kishala Vi'dreya]

Kishala Vi'dreya
Location: The Hub, Golbah City, Geonosis
With: [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Kyle Whir"] | [member="Naedira Darcrath"]

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There were words and allusions that definitely spoke of a certain familiarity and knowledge shared. But in what capacity, the pale lady could only speculate as she allowed the conversation before her to continue unfolding, her curiousity keen as she waited for her own role to unfold. While Kishala already held a hint of an idea, especially with the few that were gathered here, she waited for the words to be said aloud.

Soon after the bartender left with Knight Darcrath’s order, their table’s mismatched occupants continued with their light conversation. “You are most welcome, Sergeant,” she returned politely, pressing her palms together to show her pleasure at his words. Quietly, the lady wondered as to the armoured man’s accent. While she travelled extensively, she had yet to travel deeper into the Outer Rim. “I found most of the food here to my tastes, so I hope that all of you will enjoy them as much as I do.”

Alkor granted the aether witch her unspoken wish. “Think nothing of it, Alkor. We are family.” And perhaps she had mostly been more than content to let their relationship remain at a comfortable distance, but after seeing all the people who shared blood and name at that fateful night, a small ember within her has been lit. Perhaps this was but a small step, in a journey of many parsecs. But Kishala was nothing if not patient and persistent.

“Though I feel that Isley has been exaggerating quite a bit about the value of my word,” she said with a hint of amusement. Her silver eyes shifted towards the giant figure sitting beside to her at Alkor’s gesture, inclining her head in sincere gratitude for his safe return. “Thank you. As a small token of my gratitude, please let me know if there is anything I can help you with.”

It was then that Kishala’s own considerable orders came and their table fell silent once more until the waitstaff were out of hearing distance. Reaching out to pull her drink closer, the aether witch’s attention was wholly on Knight Darcrath’s form as they waited for her answer.