Private A Chance Meeting

[Amelia Zin]

Location: Somewhere along the Mid Rim
Tag: Alana Calloway


Outrunning the past. It was painfully familiar. The way she talked about her experience made it impossible for Amelia to ignore. It seemed they both had seen their fair of shit in this wretched galaxy. It made the Sith strangely endearing. She was just another girl lost struggling to find her way in the galaxy, just like a lot of people. Just like her.

She pushed aside the bad memories that threatened to surface. Not tonight, she told herself.

The silence between them clung to the air, blending with the smoke that covered the room. The haze was making it difficult for Amelia's Hapan eyes to see clearly, but she persisted. Finally under her breath, she spoke in hushed tones.

"...I hope it works out for you..."

And to her own surprise, she meant it.

"Hey, you know what..."

She slid slowly off the box she had perched on, and stepped to the other side of the room. Peering behind one of the boxes, a mischievous grin found its way to her lips, and she reached behind, pulling out a bottle of Chandrilan brandy. She looked at Alana and grinned.

"Al doesn't know I know. He tries to keep at least one bottle safe from me. Poor guy. At least he tried, though. Props."

She twisted the cap, a snapping sound echoing against worn durasteel, and took several general swigs before setting herself down onto a box closer to Alana. She passed it to her.

"Sorry, no glasses down here, and I can't be bothered to go up to the kitchen."

 

[Alana Calloway]

A Chance Meeting

Location: Somewhere in Space
Tag: Amelia Zin
Gear: None

Alana watched Amelia with quiet amusement, arms draped lazily over her knees as the other woman produced the bottle like some prized secret. The grin on her face was almost contagious, and for a moment, Alana let herself settle into the ease of the moment.

"Woman after my own heart," She muttered as Amelia twisted the cap off. The scent of the brandy hit her first—rich, warm, the kind of thing that burned all the way down.

She took the bottle when it was offered, rolling it once in her hands before bringing it to her lips. A deep swig. The liquor seared her throat, heat blooming in her chest, cutting through the ever-present chill in her bones. She exhaled through her nose, tipping her head back slightly as she let the burn settle.

"Not bad," She admitted, handing it back. "Been a long time since I had something decent."

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. Just the sound of the ship around them, the low hum of its systems, the occasional distant creak of durasteel. The haze of smoke curled lazily in the dim light.

She let her gaze flicker back to Amelia, studying her through the shifting shadows. There was something familiar in her. Not just in the words she'd spoken, but in the way she carried herself. The way she tried to push the past down, keep it locked away where it couldn't crawl up her throat and choke the air out of her.

Alana understood that kind of weight.

She leaned back, stretching her legs out in front of her with a satisfied sigh.

"Guess we're both just seeing where this all takes us, huh?" She glanced at Amelia again, a wry smirk tugging at her lips. "Well, wherever it leads, ain't the worst way to pass the time."