Private Where Smoke Meets Sugar

[Rheyla Tann]

Ord Mantell
Belestra District Street Market​

The street stank like grilled meat and hot duracrete.

Smoke curled from skewers over open braziers, thick with spice and something vaguely amphibian. Traders shouted over each other in five different tongues, fighting for credits and attention. Loud, colourful, desperate. The market was alive.

Rheyla hated how much she liked it.

She moved with a hand in her pockets and eyes everywhere, shoulder nudging through the crowd without apology. A stick of something—probably meat—was clenched between her teeth as she chewed thoughtfully. The taste was smoky, sweet, and just a little too chewy to ask questions about. Her headwrap was low, lekku wrapped tight, goggles slung loose around her neck like a habit she couldn’t shake. Her armour caught the occasional glint—beskar chestplate, scratched to hell and mismatched with the rest of her gear. The green looked almost tasteful in this riot of colour and smoke.

She wasn’t here for a bounty. Not today.

The guy she was meeting was running late—typical for slicers who claimed to be discreet and turned out to live in their mothers' basements. Something about offloading a shipment of confiscated datapads—Imperial-sourced, or so he claimed. Rheyla figured they’d probably just been “confiscated” from a drunk officer too slow to realise his backpack was missing. Either way, she had time to kill.

And killing time was dangerous.

She pulled another bite from the skewer and let the crowd move around her. Children darted between vendor stalls. A Rodian woman haggled loud enough to make a Dug flinch. Somewhere, a band had struck up a tune on half-tuned instruments, and someone else was trying to sing along. Badly.

Above it all, the thump-thump-thump of bass spilled from the upper walkways—club balconies flashing with colored lights, laughter, and the occasional argument that echoed down from narrow stairwells. Somewhere out there, rooftop lounges buzzed with credits and spice, while the street below kept grinding on.

Rheyla leaned against a half-rusted rail post, one boot braced behind her, and watched the tide roll past. Her eyes scanned faces. Not with suspicion—just out of habit. You didn’t last long in markets like these without paying attention to who paid attention to you.

A spice vendor tried to wave her over. She smirked and shook her head, lifting her half-eaten skewer. "Already burned my tongue once today, thanks."

A jingle of credits. A flash of sequins. A dancer spun through a break in the crowd, laughing, twirling, gone. Rheyla followed the motion just long enough to take another bite and mutter to herself:

“This place is gonna rob me blind.”

She didn’t mean the vendors.

Alyvia Toss​

 

[Alyvia Toss]

Location: Ord Mantell market
Objective: Buy stuff for dinner
Tags: Rheyla Tann

Spoiler: Wearing

The sun bathed down on Alyvia's pink skin as she placed a shriveled date in her mouth and began to chew, it was good, not to sweet and the sun hadnt taken the last drops of moisture out of it. The vendor babbled something about being the only man in the state who could get this variety, she knew that probably wasnt true, but it was part of the pitch wasnt it. Swallowed and wiped her mouth smiling and nodding before placing another from a different crate in her mouth, it wasn't as good as the first but was still pretty nice. She was thinking of a lamb and date dish to serve this evening as a treat in the galley, she had a fix on the lamb but wanted to get off ship and sourcing the dates was as good an excuse as anything.

“This place is gonna rob me blind.”

"Ha, maybe." she responded, not looking up to realise that the words werent actually for her. "You seen what this guy is asking for per kilo." she teased and winked at the vendor before standing up and looking at the woman next to her who appeared to be a Twi'lek.

She looked back and spoke to the man "Alright, I'll take four k of these and two of these yeah? Let's say... 800?"

"You pay eleven hundred, not a penny less."

"900?" she smirked.

"1000"

"950 and chuck in a couple of those red candy bars."

The man laughed and extended his hand into hers with a confident hand shake before turning around to start preparing her order.

"You worried about vendors or pickpockets? Their pretty chill round here to be honest." she grinned and took a bite of her candy bar trying to size up the other woman. "Alyvia, you?"​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

Rheyla blinked.

Not at the price, not at the candy bars, but at the voice that answered her like she'd been speaking to it on purpose.

She turned her head just slightly—enough to catch the pink-skinned woman beside her wrapping up a solid haggle with a sugar-sticky grin. Zeltron. Rheyla had crossed paths with their kind before—charm like a plasma torch, and a smile that usually meant trouble.
Fun trouble, admittedly.
Okay—maybe not usually. She’d only met one other Zeltron: Velyra Vonn . Hardly a wide sample size.

Lekku twitched under the wrap as she took a bite of her skewer, letting the silence sit for a beat before swallowing and muttering, the corner of her mouth tugging up:

“Wasn’t talking to you.”

A pause.

“But can’t argue with results. You got candy out of him.”

She shifted her weight and gave Alyvia a once-over—casual but practised. Twi’lek eyes, sharp and warm, took in the candy bar, the relaxed stance, the way she handled herself like someone who knew how to stand ground without posturing. Mandalorian? Maybe. Not her business. Not yet.

At the name, Rheyla tilted her head and offered half a nod. “Rheyla,” she replied.

Another bite. This time, she chewed a little slower, eyes still on Alyvia.

“Vendors don’t worry me,” she added after a moment. “Pickpockets are easy. It’s the smooth talkers with clean hands that do the real damage.”

She popped the empty skewer into a waste bin as she spoke, then dusted her fingers on the side of her thigh guard.

“But I’ll take your word for it, sugar queen. You look like you know your way around a market.”

A smirk spread across her face—half crooked, half challenge—as her eyes traced the bowls of dates and the confident stance beside them.

“Or at least how to get a good deal and walk away with dessert.” She gave a short laugh, then added;
“So what's the trick? Smile pretty, or just out-stare the poor bastard until he folds?”

Alyvia Toss​

 

[Alyvia Toss]

Location: Ord Mantell market
Objective: Buy stuff for dinner
Tags: Rheyla Tann

Spoiler: Wearing

Alyvia looked at her hands with a grin, they were mostly clean, although there was a fresh burn across the back of one of them that was healing up nicely.

She wasn't sure what to make of the Twi'lek, she covered herself more than Alyvia did, but not everyone loved the sunshine as much as her so that wasnt particularly striking. "Sugar queen?" she asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously at the impromptu nickname, had the other girl taken one look at her skin and considered she might be... no, not everyone saw Zeltrons that way, she was being paranoid.

She laughed "No trick really, they want to make a sale and always price their goods with a big haggling margin built in. If some tourist pays full price they its a lucky pay day, the locals probably pay half the listed price. And I try to land somewhere closer the that end than the top." she gave a smirk. "But I guess being pretty and my pheromones probably do play a part." she considered the time when a man had literally offered his entire stock to her and her family if she would agree to wed his son. She hadnt, of course, but it had been a fun story and had her and Kayte Toss devating just how many silk pashmena each of them was worth.

"It does help that I'm usually buying for anywhere from a dozen to a few hundred hungry mandalorians, it gives me leverage because I'm worth more than a few credits. What brings you to the market?" she looked at the discarded kebab and wondered what it had tasted like before finishing her candy and placing the other one in her bag. Which she double checked again in case of pick pockets.

By this time the vendor had weighed his goods and bagged them for her, six kilograms of fresh dates in two bags attached by rope that Alyvia could toss over her shoulder to carry. "Thank you, peace with your family." she said to the turned before flipping her head in a walk with me gesture to the other woman.​

 

[Rheyla Tann]

Rheyla’s eyes flicked to the burn on Alyvia’s hand, then back to her face.
Mostly clean, huh. That tracked. The kind of burn you got reaching over a hot plate for the wrong part of a skillet. Not afraid to work—just unlucky with timing.

When the nickname got a raised brow, Rheyla smirked wider, unapologetic.

“You were negotiating with dried fruit and candy bars like your life depended on it. Felt accurate.”
A beat.
“But if you prefer Date Empress, I can adjust.”

She listened to the explanation, nodding faintly, watching Alyvia the way she always watched someone who didn’t quite fit their surroundings. Like spotting an animal that didn’t realise it was being studied. Not in a threatening way—just in that casual, razor-focused Mandalorian way she hadn’t entirely unlearned.

The line about pheromones earned a sidelong glance and the arch of one brow.

“Yeah,” she said, voice dry. “That’ll do it.”

Rheyla didn’t ask what clan she was with. Didn’t name-drop her own. But there was a brief flicker in her expression when Mandalorians came up—something unreadable, sharp-edged, and quickly buried.

She didn’t let it settle.

“What brings me here?”
She tilted her head thoughtfully.
“Boredom. Poor decisions. A late slicer who may or may not be real.” A shrug followed.
“Figured I’d get a bite before someone tried to sell me a datapad full of broken Imperial codes or spice recipes labelled confidential intel.”

When Alyvia tossed the rope bag over her shoulder and gave the walk-with-me gesture, Rheyla didn’t move immediately. But she didn’t resist, either.

She stepped in, slow and loose, falling into pace beside the Zeltron like she hadn’t planned to—but didn’t mind.

“So what do you even do with six kilos of dates?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“Aside from weaponising them in an overly sweet dessert war."

Alyvia Toss​