ORCtoberfest - Trash Manda ​Edition

[Sanya Val Lerium]

Event sponsored by Inquisition Industries – Heartbeat House – Primo Victorian

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Caupona Station -


It had been a around twenty four hours since the Mandalorians had arrived at Caupona, The luxurious station resort that had began to get its name in the Rim. It was hard not to find a booze the station didn’t have to offer. It even offered much entertainment the most popular been the Heartbeat house. Yet while most spent the night getting drunk, Sanya had spent the night writing her proposal ready for the meeting that was to go down later that day.

She had the Ancoran one set up ready, but she had only bits for the Coalition. She was hoping to rely on the others for support. As to why she was Requested to the Coalitions diplomacy team she hadn’t a clue. Maybe the title she wears with pride gave them the assumption or maybe that she had experience and dealing with a delicate matter needed just that, experience.

The meeting wasn’t due to start for another thirty minutes. It gave her time to fill up jug’s of water and set down clean glasses at each seat. Not only that but assuming the meeting would run through lunch each member would request a meal upon entry. Sanya had requested a Roast Ash Rabbit dinner with a Caf cake as dessert.

The thought made the woman's belly ache with hunger. “I knew I should have ate before I left.” She muttered to herself standing away from the round table and looking at it, checking it looked presentable. It was almost time. The Feline woman noticed looking at the time she’d walk over to the seat at the head of the table placing the robe on the back of it.

“I wonder how many will be here today?” The woman asked herself as she now walked with a confident step towards the double doors. Her hands gripped the golden handels and pulled open the frosted glass doors wide open. She remained at the doors waiting to great each person as they arrived.

Objectives -

Social Butterfly Trash Panda (BYOO) -
Eat, Drink, party Have fun and do whatever.

Wasted -
You have woken up severely hungover with no recollection of the night you just had. You will also find the clothes you are wearing have been replaced. Men will find themselves in ladies clothes two sizes to small. Ladies will find themselves in mens clothes three sizes to big. (you can wake up in another char of the opposite sex clothes.) Retrace your night and uncover what the chit happened... Wait I think I left my ship keys in my pants… KARK!

Diplomacy -
Sit down, talk about the nature of the relationship of the two governments. Enjoy a fancy meal and a good drink. Sign some paper. Talk some more. Wait did I mention talking? Yes there will be plenty of that.

 

[Joza Perl]

What the Outer Rim needed, to jumpstart their collective bones, was a party.

A massive, booze infused party.

Heartbeat House was no stranger to throwing boozefests. Hell, Joza made a large part of her income from the entertainment industry. Zeltrons were the sugar and spice of the galactic party world, hence the numerous scantily dressed pink skinned beauties fluttering about with drink trays. Though largely Zeltron, the wait staff displayed some sembalance of diversity—there were a few Twi’leks, some Chiss and Mirialan along with other miscellaneous races. Not just waitresses, but waiters as well.

Something for everyone.

Perched on a bar stool and sipping on some sort of fruity drink with an umbrella (they made those here?), Joza watched the sea of partygoers with a measure of pride.

The purpose of this party was to raise credits for the reconstruction of Utapau. Though she had remained in the Outer Rim during her recovery from the invasion, Joza had little interest in diplomatic talks with the Mandalorians. She’d seen them turn on allies at the drop of a hat and wasn’t keen on getting involved, not after what she’d faced in the crystal caves.

Downing the cocktail in one go, she placed her glass on the counter and smiled. The signal was clear: another.

Let the others deal with diplomatic talks. Let her get wasted.

[member="Daro Tarsi"]

 

[Janick Beauchamp]

Janick's memories of that place were not the most pleasant to say the least. Catching slavers via means of alchemized booze was not the best means to do so, but this time around, she could feel that there was no trace of the Ta'jar Blood Gang here. The brand ambassador of the Asobi 95% tihaar was here, wearing black underwear and no bracers, with her black dress on standby if she needs it. And also Griet wearing purple underwear; together, they were the two ladies that featured prominently in the recruitment materials of the ORC Starfighter Corps, most of which had some similitude to the Asobi 95% tihaar ads. While you and I know exactly what azeotropic means, that is, the gas is the same as the liquid, and hence you can't separate any further without a third substance, azeotropes would evoke exoticism to the eyes of your average spacer, she thought, while being reminded that only a fraction of those ads even alluded to azeotropes. You know I'm always up to drink a few tablespoons of Asobi 95% tihaar, but I'd rather let others sample it first. It might taste like medical alcohol, and it takes a brave soul to drink it, thanks to its 95% abv, Griet thought, before a few spacers were lining up to get to see them. They were different from Mandalorian ladies, even though neither was exactly delicate. She had a feeling [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] would soon come, too.

"Step right up, brave spacers! Here's your chance to drink the purest azeotropic goodness this side of Mandalore!" she shouted in the room, with a 1.75L bottle of Asobi 95% tihaar at the ready.

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Joza Perl"]

Why the kark there were Mandalorians at a charity event to rebuild Utapau was anyone's question.

Short memories, Daro reckoned. He had heard of that short-lived invasion that had left so many dead, a city burning, friends betrayed and now they were here. He strode into the bar and settled himself down next to a zeltron and grunted just a bit.

Old bones.

"Gimme da whiskey special, ya?" Was gonna be a long day and drowning out all the oyaaaas and crap would take more than one drink as far as Daro was concerned. He glanced over to his left, saw the Zeltron was pretty cut- just in the middle of turning back, he blinked and turned to the right again. "Lil jozie, innit?" Daro had a knack for faces and if it weren't for that, his cyber-eye gave him a few extra clues. He leaned back a bit to get her better into his vision.

"Well." A beat of silence as he pondered on his next move. "...want to buy me a drink or two?"

Because right now Daro Tarsi was far too sober to deal with this.

First the Mandalorians, then Joza? It was as if the sky was all out of mercy today.

 

[Zef Halo]

Ain't nothing wrong with some drinks at a busy place from time to time. Change of pace, you know? He despised crowded and loud places. Zef liked the solitude when drinking, it was like that in ever since he hit thirty something years.

He drunk alone.

If the good ol' scoundrel wasn't in this quadrant of space looking for some fortune in smuggling, he wouldn't have really made the effort to dock and drink here. Esepcially, when the first thing he saw when docking were Mandalorian ships and bucketheads heading to the same place he was. The former Mandalorian, once Isley Verd's right hand man a few years back, adjusted his cowboy hat lower closer to his eyes. You'd never know what face stood behind the bucket.

On the positive side of things, the smuggler hoped to see his daughter around here. He'd learned she had been on Utapau when the Mandalorians raided it and she had survived, albeit with injuries. It'd be a good, a dad, thing to do, right? Probably not the best person for dad advices, to be honest.

So why the heck were all these Mandalorians coming to the Coalition's Orctoberfest? Odd as heck, but Zef wasn't going to be bustling his brain activity on this situation.

The epitome of grunge and scoundrels approached a clearly tipsy, but not drunk, Coalition member. Looked like a medic, for some reason to Zef.

"Is Joza Perl here?"

"J-joza...oh y-yeah, Joza. Mmmm hmmmm yeah, Joza." The young guy blurred out with a wishful grin on his face. Zef's face remained as stoic as always.

"Yes. Joza Perl."

"My dream i-"

"Where is Joza Perl?" Zef cut him off not really here to waste time with a kid.

"B-bar." He replied and Zef left him to his wishful thinking and daydreaming.

Of course, where else could his kid be? He sighed as he shoved his way through the crowd towards the bar. Zef would curse the crowd after it blocked his view of his child bartending and a very familar patron on the bar, so when he was at point-blank range and realized what he was seeing, the smuggler palmed his face with a sigh echoing of exhaustion. This was going to be a long, weird night.

Zef set his hat down on the bar and sat right next to Daro but his eyes locked with his daughter's.

"Hey, kid. Do me a favor - anything I drink goes to his bill." He stated without giving his ol' buddy a glance. The fethin' clash on Klatooine. Karkin' Daro Tarsi owed him at least that much.

Perhaps he could've asked how she was? Perhaps he would've if he ever learned how to be a father before he dived in his grave.

Perhaps.


[member="Daro Tarsi"] [member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Tryp West]

To be honest, Tryp West almost walked right back out the door when she realized what was what. The Kiffar has gone deadly still when the situation became clear. She'd been on Utapau. Hadn't even been part of the ORC then- there, of all things, on a date. They hadn't even been involved and in the opening salvos of the Mandalorian raid her ship had been shot down. It had been a close call, and if things had gone even a little differently, she and Jack would have died that day half a dozen times over. That hadn't been war. That had been the action of reavers, taking no consideration for the difference between civilians and anything else. People who couldn't be trusted.

And here they were.... breaking bread..... at a benefit for Utapau?

It was one thing to work with both sides in a conflict- Tryp did business across the Alliance and Sith divide and made no bones about it. But the idea of those two groups sitting down and having a beer while fund raising for, say, Thyferra, as if nothing had happened, well.

That wasn't how forgiveness worked.

Mea culpa mea culpa, we didn't mean to murder all those people.

Of course, of course, come in, eat our bread and drink our wine.

She was reminded of a story about the scorpion and the frog.

It was insanity.

And Tryp was suddenly seriously questioning the level of involvement she wanted with clearly crazy people.

A pair of familiar faces gave her pause, mostly because she was surprised they'd be anywhere near this nonsense. Then again, she didn't know either of them that well, she amended. With a sigh, Tryp headed toward the bar.

She had come here to offer support, to buy a drink or two and donate a handful of credits (all she could afford right now, but every little bit helped, yeah?). She decided that was the important part. She wouldn't let her opinion on the rest of it stop her from doing what she'd come to do, which was offering a hand. That was about her, and her own set of beliefs- where the needs of the people of Utapau outweighed this insanity.

"Eh, Daro, Farah, dinna know ya'all knew each other," she commented, leaning with a bit of weight against the bar and offering a nod to the other older gentleman she didn't know at all.

"Uhhhh, der a special, where more'a da proceeds go ta Utapau?" She asked the bartender. "If so, dat, otherwise, whatever ale ya rec'mend?"

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Zef Halo"] [member="Daro Tarsi"]​

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

"Hey, hey. Just because you've never heard of it before doesn't mean it's worse than Star Tours. We're just a bit more budget friendly," fingers tapped on the little round table in the crowded bar. The wood was sticky. The duros she was talking to belched loudly.

Nothing like pitching an exploration tour group to a bunch of drunkards. Easier to get that swipety-swipe of their credchits for a future reservation. Plus, she'd heard so much about the Outer Rim Coalition. It was high about time she checked them out. Might be good to see if she could get clearance for the Vagrant fleet to pass through, too.

She just hoped she wouldn't run into her cousin. That would be all sorts of awks. No way in kriff she was going back to the Starchaser family anytime soon.

So thought the recovering alcoholic in a room full of sweet and foul smelling liquor while nursing the cup of jubjub juice.

 

[Zef Halo]

Parties aren't really the place to find a Jedi, especially parties in which yesterday's murderers were invited to enjoy on Coalition's expense. He welcomed any peace but the wounds were too fresh, how would Utapau react when yesterday's heroes break bread with those that pillaged their homes and ruined their lives taking away with them the lives of friends and families in a moment. No opportunity to say goodbye, no opportunity to mourn as the Mandalorian ran down Utapau. War was terrible, the worst of all the plagues in the galaxy.

Ember washed away the tormenting thoughts. He was no politician, he welcomed peace.

Taking his mind back to the reality in front of him, to the place which [member="Joza Perl"] insisted on his presence, Ember Farseer observed the blatant faux sales pitch a girl was giving to a bunch of drunkards who could barely walk, let alone talk. She had a familiar face? Utapau? The Jedi couldn't really be sure.

"Exploitation, as far as I know, is a crime, isn't it?" He approached the girl and the drunkards, perhaps engaging in some sort of conversation would put his mind to rest temporarily from the Utapau thoughts. Half a smile materialized on his face. It was still odd dealing with the masses of scoundrels and spacers this side of the galaxy had to offer. A Jedi Knight didn't really fit their picture and Ember always felt more or less as a bit of an outcast.


[member="Kinsey Starchaser"]

 

[Joza Perl]

The station was filled with mercenaries and scoundrels alike; old and grizzled would meet young and fresh faced and everything in between. Joza didn’t bat an eye as an older merc seated himself next to her, thanking the bartender with a toothy smile as he quickly mixed her up another drink. She didn’t turn to acknowledge him until he’d called her ‘Lil Jozie”.

There were…very few people who called her that.

Tilting her head over to him in surprise, Joza’s mind worked to process his face and voice. They were familiar on some level, but it took her a bit of time to place him. Meanwhile, she tilted the glass to her lips for a thoughtful sip.

“Oh,” She paused to keep herself from spitting out the drink. “You’re that guy who used to sleep with my mom, right?” Well, one of them. One of the nicer ones, at least.

Both Zef and the tall woman would show up in time to hear that.

“Haha, no.” She laughed, good nature tickling her tone. “Buy your own drinks.”

Strangely, seeing Tarsi conjured up thoughts of….oh, double surprise. There was her father.

"Hey, kid. Do me a favor - anything I drink goes to his bill."​

​

“Good idea.” She snapped her fingers to get the bartender’s attention and pointed to the man sitting next to her. “That goes for me, too.”

She wasn’t exactly sure how to feel, seeing him again. Both of them. One was her biological father, the other had been…slightly more present in her youth. Neither of them had really filled a paternal role.

“I like you better without the tin can.” She tilted her chin towards Zef. “Didn’t see you at Utapau so I figured you were either dead or retired.”

Part of the reason she didn’t want to partake in diplomacy talks...she’d killed one of the Mando’s battle masters. Victory didn’t come cheap, she’d spent ages recovering and it still hurt to move sometimes. Considering that she’d been crushed underneath a massive beskar clad Togorian, Joza was lucky to have survived.

“Farah?” She shifted her gaze to the tall woman, taking a few moments to see if she recognized anything about her. Face? Voice? Joza squinted for a moment, hoping that she hadn’t lost much of her memory from the head trauma she’d sustained. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I think you’ve got me confused for someone else. I don’t know anyone called Farah, but she might be here?” Indeed, there were plenty of Zeltrons out and about here.

[member="Tryp West"] [member="Zef Halo"] [member="Daro Tarsi"]

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Caupona Station

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Mishel came into the station quietly.

It'd been a long trip from Coruscant, and an even longer time processing all the changes her mother had gone through.

She hadn't ever expected for [member="Hazel Zanteres"] to go dark side, but she did. Then again, Knights of Ren weren't supposed to change over to the light either but ultimately the teenager had seen some of the worst that the Galaxy could throw. Feth experienced it even, Mustafar, Skor II, Bespin and Dagobah ultimately though she came to the conclusion that she still loved her mom. Regardless if she was a practitioner of the dark side or light side all it told her was that they needed to spend more time together. Mishel at least entertained the idea of sending the Hapan a message through the holonet. Entertained, at least, yeah?

Yeah.

Mishel crossed the corridors of the station where she felt the familiar auras [member="Ember Farseer"] and [member="Joza Perl"]. As she looked around she could see that today was going to be one of those days but on the other hand. Making good with the folks who raided your planet? That's... that was new. Not something they teach you in the First Order, and it was part of the reason why she had been glad to be free of them, for now at least. As Mishel walked through the threshold where the party was taking place she noted a few folks and recognized only two. Auntie Jo looked busy so she decided to say a hello to Ember. The Tygaran noted [member="Kinsey Starchaser"] and rather than interrupted Ember and his conversation with the woman, she took to saddling up at the bar and ordering a drink.

 

[Kurt Meyer]

The concept of 'spring break' wasn't something that Kurt had ever heard of before.

To begin with, Tatooine didn't even have spring, much less a break for it. On his homeworld it was nothing but sun, summer, and constant heat. The idea that the climate would ever change was enough to make his heart skip a beat and a half, mostly because he was sure that such an event would just be entirely disastrous and end in a loss of life he wasn't quite willing to fathom.

Of course the other reason the concept confused him was a bit more simple, and that was mainly the fact that he'd never much had something to take a break from. Flying Pod-racers had been a dream, the Navy had been fun, and working as a Courier was basically an extended vacation for every run. Up until now it had all been easy, way too easy. His run of life had not at all prepared him for his studied at University, and now that it was all crashing down on him?

Well it hit him rather roughly.

So when his roommate Aram had suggested they take a break from studying and do something for spring break Kurt hadn't needed much convincing. Of course he'd needed a bit of guidance, but that was to be expected. He'd asked Jamie to come along, but given that she was rather busy running Naboo the chance of her attending was low. Still, Kurt was determined to have fun, and Aram was pretty good company.

"Let's grab a drink." Kurt told the Twi'lek, slapping him on the shoulder as they walked out of the stations hangar bays and towards the part.

 

[Jaster Awaud]

The Mandalorian was awoken by the light that peaked over the flipped over table, it had blocked his helmets view-port as he had his Night Vision Optics turned on over the view of the surroundings. As the sun peered over and it came in direct contact with his cameras view, the images were relayed to his HUD in a blinding light as the Night Vision settings turned the sunlight into a screen of whites and lime greens.

This woke Jaster up and he sprung to a fighting stance drawing out his blade and holding it backwards for anyone to come close. The whole room was a mix of whites and greens that gave him the worst headache and so he slapped his helmet and the view returned to its normal settings. His knife was still drawn and he turned to look about the room, knife still drawn as he really just forgot to drop his hand. The other hand was tapping the top of his helmet as it made a *clanking* sound as the two metal pieces made contact. That noise alone was enough to make the headacheworse. He stopped that instantly.

As he looked around, the room was nice, and the first person he saw was [member="Kaine Australis"]. He had no idea where he was let alone why he was with Kaine, but he felt as though he was about to vomit, so he bent over to contain himself. As he did so he closed his eyes to brace himself, and when the wave of nausea passed he opened them to be greeted by a setting of bright yellow and pink flowers on a dress for a women of a larger size. It was then he realized this dress was on him, and that his armor was still on as well. This made the dress look tight against the Armor and more of a fat Trandosian trying to fit into a Human Female Dress. All the angles of the armor could be seen through the dress as it was very tight on his armor. The first thought was 'How did anyone get this on me?'. He then Remembered that someone stubborn enough was still laying in a pot of dirt.

He dropped his knife to the floor and attempted to walk over to his Vod, even with the suites auto-stability hydraulics, he stumbled to the man in the planter. "Kaine, what the hell happened last night, how did I get here?"

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

[member="Ember Farseer"]


"Exploration. It's explore-a-tion."

Deep blues filled with tiny pinpricks of whites like starbursts shifted away from the half-wasted Duros and up to the voice that belonged to a real buzz kill. Hips swiveled in her seat and any sort of further wise-crack died partially on her lips. That look that flickered across his face even behind that half-smile of his.

It said war, death, weariness.

Old friends to half the 'verse. Course, she was no empath. And her force signature was buried like it always was. Didn't want to touch the stuff as much as she didn't want to touch alcohol.

"Do they look poor to you?" Okay, okay. Couldn't stop all the wise-cracks. Chin tipped back to the Duros and his crew. They definitely had enough empty mugs to fill the surface of the small wooden table. Cup of juice came up to her lips and she took a slow sip, studying the stranger over the rim. There was a chair between herself and the Duros and it happened to be empty. Seemed like it might not stay that way.

 

[Sal Katarn]

He walked through the door and into the crowd like a cat among mice, steps slow and easy. He wore a loose black shirt, partially unbuttoned, and a self-satisfied smirk, which tugged playfully at the corner of his mouth. Blue eyes twinkled with mischief, as if he knew something no one else did.

Mikhail Shorn slipped past some guy, [member="Ember Farseer"], and slid onto a stool between a Duros and [member="Kinsey Starchaser"] at the bar.

"Excuuuse me."

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Utapau.

The last action committed of Ra Vizsla’s desires for Kyber Crystals. The last battle of the Cuir Rekr. Death hung upon that battle for Mandalorian and Coalition alike. While crystals were obtained, the cost had been a government toppled, a force diminished, a war lost.

Was it all Mand’alor the Infernal could do to repair as much of her predecessors’ damages as possible? Was it all she could to to repair the damages she caused? Yet, it came to her attention that it was right for Mandalore and the Coalition to sit together. It was right to repair what one could, while strengthening one’s own government.

While reports filtered into her ear of Mandalorians awakening from their evening revels in odd outfits and strange places, Yasha instead received a delightful and restful sleep in the arms of her husband [member="Kaden Mantis"]. Dressed in her beskar’gam, Yasha’s pregnant stomach was covered by the great grey cloak, which swathed her front and hid it from view.

Although one thing was bothering Yasha as she, flanked by Yalilyr, entered the meeting room where [member="Sanya Val Swift"] prepared for their arrival…

… Where had her favourite maternity dress gone? The one with the purple and blue iris flowers?

“Your Majesty.” Yasha’s buy’ce clad head tilted to Sanya as she entered, HUD scanning the room. The woman was familiar… an image in her helm while she fought with Kaine… was this what getting older meant? Gaining wisdom through hardship, then suffering many bitter pills in the aftermath?

“I count it my honour to treat with you today, Queen Sanya. May we speak together and find a balance between the past and future for our peoples. May the past be rectified and done.” The Yalilyr flanked the room, standing in quiet attention to protect their pregnant Mand’alor.

[member="Kaden Mantis"] [member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"]

 

[Jaya Tandris]

All the fancy get-togethers Jaya had to go through as of late had left her frustrated. She wasn't one for 'classy' outfits or mundane conversations nobody actually liked, at least the woman could not see how anyone was interested in discussing politics of all things, and in every single event of that caliber she had stuck out like a sore thumb. First she forgot to get an 'appropriate' outfit, then she got a bit too drunk, then both happened at the same time. A break was very much needed.

Luckily for her, that was when Jaya found out about the event that was going to take place on Caupona Station. Within an hour of finding out about it she, was already in hyperspace on her way there without notifying anyone out of forgetfulness. The the list of goals tonight was simple: Have a good time, get drunk, start a fight, and either don't leave the party alone or just pass out somewhere, either was perfectly fine by her.

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The moment Jaya walked into the building everything just felt right. No overblown introductions, no ridiculous amount of white everywhere, but most importantly no need to be formal. Finally she could forget about limiting the amount of drinks she was going to get and instead just be herself. The music was loud, there was more than enough eye candy to go around for anyone, the booze was aplenty. It was almost too good to be true.

The first order of business, of course, was getting the first drink in. Without hesitation the woman made her way over to the nearest bar stool and hopped on and waved over the person behind the bar. "I have no idea what's in that bottle, but it looks strong and I want it." Choosing between all options would take far too long- Jaya wasn't planning on being picky tonight.

 

[Zef Halo]

The smile grew to a smirk at the woman's cheeky reply. The Jedi was about to reply when a shadow passed by him to occupy the chair between the 'tour guide' and the alcohol poisoned Duros. Ember gave the man a brief glance wondering if he was an acquaintance of either the drunkard or the lady.

It did not seem that way, so Ember gathered his focus back on the girl and the alcoholic.

"If he wasn't poor before, he certainly is now." Ember gestured at the tons of empty mugs on the table. He wondered for how long had the Duros been drinking today. The Jedi Knight still struggled to fit to the fringe spacers' community and their incredibly rich of sarcasm conversation. "Don't think he is capable of rational thought, or of any thought for that matter."

"So let me hear the pitch - what's this explore-a-tion you're talking about?" Ember enquired, one part of him sincerely believed that she might really be an explorer but with not really scrupulous methods of 'marketing' and another part of him thought this was a con scheme. In both cases, the recent Force vision through his dreams required him to get a passage away from here and to where the Force led him.

[member="Kinsey Starchaser"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Noatyr Moldmerr]

Even though he had no idea where he was going or what his destination was, Noatyr somehow ended up stumbling into the station. He had no idea what was going on, but he could pick up on several things.

One: He was not dressed for whatever was happening. His cloak made him look like a someone up to no good.

Two: This looked like a real fun party.

Although he knew he probably didn't belong here, Noatyr was more then happy to try and join in. His first stop was the bar. He could see there was already a few others sitting there, so he figured he'd sit a few stools away, so he could listen while also not invading in the conversations.

Throwing off his hood, Noatyr takes a seat on one of the stools, ordering a drink from the bar keep, while trying to keep his head low.

''Glad I'm here on my own time and have nothing to do for once.'' He mutters to himself. Settling for listening to the loud blaring music for now, he taps his hands on the bar table in tune with the music to keep himself busy, until his drink arrives.

Taking hold of the glass, Noatyr takes a sip from it, savoring the taste of the hard booze.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ca_sxbu6FoA​

Fury filled him, but it was contained. Cold. Boiling just under the surface and leashed by the teachings of better men than he that helped him know when to stab with a saber, and when to use words. There was no green robes. No... When he had heard of this he donned his Judge blacks, pinning the star of his office plain to see. Both lightsabers were hooked to his hip, his bryar pistol as well to the left thigh. Various other bits were visible, a combat knife, a datapad, and more. And a dangling jedi-credit on his neck, as well as a ring of forge welded bloodsteel and beskar .

Since he came in before who he wanted, he sat at the bar. For once, and several might have commented, he drank only water. Mind needed to be clear and his wits about him. Then she came in. Yasha. She didn't give the order, but her dog had. And though eventually, he had been punished, it was never for his actions here. Possible that, maybe she didn't know. Vilaz might not have told her. But she needed to know. And as she spoke to Sanya, he snorted. Quite like those who had a figurehead or singular leader to assume everywhere else did. Jorus deserved better than this, and he wasn't taking a step back from duties at the Temple just to party. There was no grandstanding. He merely stood. Years of command came easy to bear as he raised his voice in the same way he would executing any other warrant or battle command.

"Yasha Mantis, by the authority of the Coalition, you are detained for questioning pertaining to the actions of your former subordinate, one Vilaz Munin, and his crimes against the people of Utapau. You are not to be charged. Your guards will wait. Outside . As will the Queen, given she speaks with no greater authority than for her own planet and no further. There is a side room set aside in the hopes you or others of your high command would show for me to talk to."

His voice lowered then, still friendly, still an easy smile on his face as he walked to where the Manda'lor could more easily see him, and gestured to the side room. Anyone with sense could see it was a command. No blood wanted to be shed, but he would have answers.

"This will be quick, and we can all get back to the party. But innocent lives demand justice, and that starts now. Blood calls for blood, and I will have his. If you want peace with our many peoples, you will help. And when we're done, I'll buy you whatever your... Condition... Allows for..

Coughing his throat clear, he raised his voice, the stern but calm command in it again.

"Any who do interfere will be charged with obstruction and detained on those charges. Manda'lor, this way... If you please..."

[member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Sanya Val Swift"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Tryp West"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Zef Halo"]

"One an' da same, luv." Daro drawled relaxed and gave her a crooked smile. Oh, he had been afraid this would be a bit awkward, but by the sound of it she didn't much care about it either... so why make it any more complicated than it was?

Of course, that was when Zef suddenly appeared from under a table (or wherever he had been hiding out in fear of his kid) and things turned half an inch more entertaining.

Close followed behind was one Tryp West.

Huh.

Daro hadn't been expecting to see her again, truth to be told, but she had been a good partner and without 'er... might not have gotten out of that bank alive either. "Heya West," Lazy salute from his brow up to both her and Zef with a snort that followed once the smuggler and his daughter started taking advantage of his good spirits. "Ain't da first time ya ol' man been mooching on me, won't be the last one either." The reply came casually as he leaned back a bit to give the two some more space to talk to one another. Oh, this turned from awkward to funny as feth and Daro wasn't about to miss anything of it. "Might as well start bank-rolling da daughter too if we at it already."

A wink over to Tryp when she mentioned someone called Farah.

"Dis lovely lady is miss Joza Perl, entrepreneur, philanthropist, play..." Head tilted as he eyed Joza over the rim of his quickly draining glass. "-boy sounds safer 'ere. Dunno about da genius part tho."

"Din knew ya brushed elbows with da Coalition, miss West, but I see ya already noticed our... guests."

His glance swept across the bar and the bucket-heads in various degrees of intoxication. Tryp's glance might have been angry, but Dar's got dark. Zef would know, would see, it was the same glint Daro got whenever a Hutt was mentioned.
Well, not exactly the same.

This bar would have been burning down already if they were involved.