The Bodyguard and the Princess

[Illyria Syresh]

THE KRAYT DRAGON LOUNGE // TATOOINE



Outfit: Here (With Boots)
Weapons: N/A
Status: Nervous | Bored
Interacting With: [member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

"I'm nobody anymore. The Mandalorians took that from me, my identity, my belonging. I need to find my place, a new place to call home. Among all...all of this karking crap. Then, at least...I will know if I deserved to live."​

Illyria Syresh​

Illyria sat within the dimly lit lounge at a table. Her legs were crossed over one another, the right one crossing over and laying across the knee of her left leg in a relaxed position. While the blue-skinned woman's overall appearence looked to be calm and collected, she felt anything but the sort. The index finger and middle finger of her right hand were pressed together and gently drumming against the edge of the wooden table she sat at, trying to find some way to pass the time that was going so slowly. She felt as though she had been at this 'Krayt Dragon Lounge' for hours, while all it had been was fifteen minutes. The female zabrak wanted whoever it was that she was supposed to meet to hurry up...and yet she also wanted them to take as much time as possible to get to where the designated meeting area was.

Truth be told, the Scion of house Syresh was nervous to say the last about this meeting. Though she was an employed mercenary in the service of the Golden Company, she had no combat ability. While the Golden Company provided weapons and armor and training, it was up to Illyria to try and improve herself and her own abilities. And yet, nothing had become of her abilities thus far. She knew how to point and shoot a gun, though she couldn't take another person's life, not ever. She had only done so once, and even such an act as that when she was in a life-or-death situation still haunted her. Her papa had always taught her to never take another's life, no matter what it is that they do to you. It wasn't her choice to decide who lived and who died...it was the Galaxy's.

She couldn't defend herself worth a damn. Illyria had been jumped and ambushed by First Order stormtroopers...or at least what was left of them. They had beat her with metal sticks and even though she had worn armor and had a blaster...she had felt defenseless.

Which was why she was here now, hiring a bodyguard of all things. She was embarrassed of such a thing such as this, hiring somebody to protect her and help her get better at her combat abilities. She didn't want anyone to know, least of all Khonsu Amon whom she deeply respected and even looked up to as a mentor in her life...as her first friend in the Golden Company. So she sat here, waiting for a woman...a zabrak woman, someone like her, to come through that door, the door which her golden eyes were falling upon.

The index and middle finger of her right hand stopped drumming temporarily, now replaced by the soft drumming of the index finger, middle finger, and ring finger of her left hand against the edge of the wooden table made for two people. She hoped that she was not making a fool of herself.

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Attire : Under Layer, Top Layer {Brown}
Equipment : In Bio
Mood : Pleased, Confident

Zenva arrived in style. Sand and loose rocks ground beneath her boot as she stepped from her personal vehicle. She moved briskly through the doors of The Krayt Dragon Lounge, her death's head tattoo flashing for an instant in the neon lights outside. Her bizarre yellow-red gaze swept the room quickly after the young blue horned woman was spotted. One couldn't be too careful on Tatoonie.

The Matron settled her hands on the hilts of the twin swords hanging off her hips, and made her way towards the younger Zabrak. She paused a few paces away, her plump coal painted lips curling in a polite smile. "You must be Miss Syresh, yes?" she asked in a warm, musical voice. "I believe you called for protection services?"

The Crimson Lady's hands came away from her numerous weapons, pistols, swords, and were held for a moment at her sides. "I trust you will forgive the arsenal, Miss. This is Tatoonie after all. You really should consider something armored. A personal shield at least." Her hands fell once more, coming to rest at her waist this time. "May I join you?" she asked with a little gesture to the girl's table.

[member="Illyria Syresh"]

 

[Illyria Syresh]

THE KRAYT DRAGON LOUNGE // TATOOINE



Outfit: Here (With Boots)
Weapons: N/A
Status: Nervous | Bored
Interacting With: [member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

"I'm nobody anymore. The Mandalorians took that from me, my identity, my belonging. I need to find my place, a new place to call home. Among all...all of this karking crap. Then, at least...I will know if I deserved to live."​

Illyria Syresh​

The drumming of Illyria's fingers against the edge of the wooden table stopped suddenly when she heard the subtle shift of metal against a stone floor, someone had entered the building. Despite being a mutant zabrak and feeling as though she had never fit in, her unique genetic 'adaptations' offered some perks to the young woman, such as in the case of more acute hearing of subtle noises as, say, a door opening and closing. The blue-skinned girl's golden sphere looks upon the form of a woman approaching her, a fellow zabrak. The red skin reminded her of what she should look like, of what everyone else of her race looked like, save for her. Despite such a thought of bitterness, the Scion of house Syresh did not allow for such a negative thought to cloud her mind. It had become a habit of hers to dwell on the negative and to think of nothing but the past, she had to at the least, try to think of the positive or try and not stray to her negative thoughts too much.

Her golden eyes watched the woman approach her slowly, her gaze scanning the woman. The outfit was certainly something, Illyria had to admit. Though, she did find that it looked nice on the female zabrak, especially with how it hugged her figure. At the realization that she was thinking about how the woman's clothing hugged her form, the young woman's cheeks took a subtle blush, barely noticeable to the naked eyes though still there if one looked close enough. She knew she shouldn't be thinking such things, and she didn't know why she was thinking such things. To distract herself, Illyria caught onto the words of the red-skinned bodyguard, listening with intent before responding.

"Y-yes, I am Miss Syresh, and I did call for your services. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss...?"

It occurred to Illyria that she hadn't checked for the woman's name beforehand, something that she had been meaning to do. However, she had gotten so caught up in her own nerves and anxiety that she had completely forgotten to check such a thing until the woman she was meeting was right in front of her. Her eyes fell to the the woman's waist when she mentioned her aresenal, her eyes going wide at just how many weapon she had on her being. Syresh had been expecting for her to have weapons...just not that many weapons.

"I know I need to and I have some, I'm just terrible at using them. And, uh, yes you can join me," Illyria said with a short smile beaming up at the female zabrak.

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Attire : Under Layer, Top Layer {Brown}
Equipment : In Bio
Mood : Confident | Pleased | Faintly Annoyed
With : [member="Illyria Syresh"]

Zenva's bizarre yellow-red gaze followed the youth's golden one for a moment, a sweet, musical laugh escaping the Crimson Lady. She turned to her right sharply, her left hand trailing lazily down her ribcage. "I know, right? It's Tikulini leather over hardened alloy strike plates wrapped in a Molytex lining, and Lashaa silk to finish the interior. It will stop anything short of a tank round, and it looks absolutely delicious, don't you think?" Another bubble of delighted, cherubic laughter escaped the Matron.

Flashing another smirk she slid like a serpent into the seat across from the unusual Zabrak she had come to meet. "Honestly, Miss Syresh, where is your Zabrak pride, hmm? Death is in the details, little one." Zenva's hand passed through the air as if to dismiss her own words. "I am Zenva, Matron of Clan Vrotoa, and CEO of Vrotoa Industries. I review every request of mercenaries, and protection details that comes through my Company. Yours caught my attention so I came to see you personally. I do hope that doesn't bother you?" she asked, eyeing the young Zabrak before her as openly as she had been ogled. "You don't seem opposed." she added, amusement warming her tone.

 

[Illyria Syresh]

THE KRAYT DRAGON LOUNGE // TATOOINE



Outfit: Here (With Boots)
Weapons: N/A
Status: Nervous
Interacting With: [member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

"I'm nobody anymore. The Mandalorians took that from me, my identity, my belonging. I need to find my place, a new place to call home. Among all...all of this karking crap. Then, at least...I will know if I deserved to live."​

Illyria Syresh​

Illyria did her best to avoid staring at the woman's body when she had turned to her side, trying to keep her gaze from looking over the woman as best as she could.

"I know, right?...and it looks absolutely delicious, don't you think?..."

Illyria was at a complete and utter loss of words for what to tell the woman. She had tried being subtle and she had thought she had achieved such a thing, however, now it seemed as though she had been caught. It was something that made the young woman's cheeks heat up visibly, her blush now more prominent than it had been beforehand. She had not meant to stare, she knew such as thing was rude after all. She didn't enjoy making others uncomfortable or making others feels annoyed at her, such was why she knew not to stare at people. It came across as rude. However in such an instance such as now, the older zabrak woman appeared to feel...happy that she was being stared at and ogled at in such a way. It was something which the Scion of house Syresh was glad for, though also embarrassed by. It had been an accident about her staring at the woman in such a way, the outfit she wore was what had made her look at her more intently and...as she had done so, it made her look at the woman more closely and how her outfit complimented her body in all of the right areas. Illyria was ashamed about such a thing.

"Uh...y-yes, it does," Illyria stuttered out nervously, trying to keep the blush on her cheeks under control. She didn't even know why she had agreed with the woman, it had just spilled out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "It does look, it does look delicious on you," she continued, much to her own annoyance at her self.

The woman's next comment helped to put the blue-skinned zabrak at ease, making a smile crack across her worried and embarrassed face.

"I guess I missed learning that...I figure my two hearts would help me," she said with an enchanting and soft laugh.

When Zenva eyed Illyria as openly as she had stared at her earlier, Illyria's cheeks kept their blush from earlier when her staring had been found out, the soft light blue blush turning to a darker blue blush that still blended into her skin though was visible.

"No, no you're fine! And...I-i'm not opposed at all...as I've guessed you've seen."

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Attire : Under Layer, Top Layer {Brown}
Equipment : In Bio
Mood : Confident | Pleased | Amused
With : [member="Illyria Syresh"]

"Well, thank you. Very sweet of you to agree." she replied, flashing a glimpse of serrated teeth in her otherwise charmed smile. The Crimson Lady seemed to straighten in her seat, taking to the compliment more than kindly.

Zenva's smile relaxed somewhat, calming almost as the youth laughed. "We'll have to work on that, hmm? You really aught to know more about your own kind, Miss Syresh. We're rather impressive, if you were unawares." She paused to rifle through one of the pouches at her waist, producing a cigarette case, and matched lighter after a moment.

"I'm pleased you are in favor of the situation. Now to business." she said in a pleased tone, setting the case open between them. She turned in her seat, her hand in the air to get the barman's attention. She held up two fingers, the man nodded, and she turned her sharp gaze back to the young blue Zabrak.

"If you are in need of my services Miss Syresh, I'm going to need details. As much as you think useful to me providing you with the best services. For example, who are you being chased by, little one? And please, be careful how you answer that. If you lie, or aim to deceive or betray me, you really won't like how I react." A hand came up to gesture to the case, whether or not the girl showed no interest, the Matron took one for herself, lighting it, and inhaling the pleasant tasting tobacco deeply.

 

[Illyria Syresh]

THE KRAYT DRAGON LOUNGE // TATOOINE



Outfit: Here (With Boots)
Weapons: N/A
Status: Confident
Interacting With: [member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

"I'm nobody anymore. The Mandalorians took that from me, my identity, my belonging. I need to find my place, a new place to call home. Among all...all of this karking crap. Then, at least...I will know if I deserved to live."​

Illyria Syresh​

"You're very welcome, Zenva!"

Illyria's golden eyes watched Zenva as she spoke, catching glimpse of her pulling something out from a pouch on her belt. At first she didn't know what it was, or even what was inside of the container. She had never seen such a thing before, and to her it looked to be something new and exotic. Her gaze followed the movements of the woman's ruby fingertips, curiosily watching as the tip if whatever it was she had between her fingers was lit with a lighter. The white-colored end folded inwards as orange sparked the tip alongside black coloring, releasing vapers of smoke from it's now folded tip into the air between the two zabrak women. The Scion of house Syresh knew not what the woman was using, though it looked eerily similar to what people called 'Spice': a rolled up paper joint with colored spices inside of it which was smoked to alleviate stress and to bring pleasurable, euphoric feelings to oneself.

In essence, they were drugs...and Illyria wasn't one for trying such a thing. While she had tried alcohol before hand and liked it, she had to be careful with how much she consumed now. She didn't want a repeat of last time, especially now with a woman whom she knew from looks alone could kill her.

"Well it...it's a long story, but I'll try and keep it short. I am royalty...or was, mandalorians attacked and took everything from me. They took my home and my family, everything and everyone I had. I'm part...I'm part of the Golden Company now, it's a mercenary group but I don't know the first thing about fighting...I mean I can shoot a blaster, but I'm not good at it and I couldn't shoot someone to save my life..."

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Attire : Under Layer, Top Layer {Brown}
Equipment : In Bio
Mood : Confident | Concerned | Confused
With : [member="Illyria Syresh"]

Zenva's smile deepened, curling wickedly as her name rolled from the younger Zabrak's lips. Unfortunately that didn't last long as the girl attempted to explain her situation. Zenva's corn of horns bobbed slightly, her head turning as her sharp features became conflicted. When she spoke next her words were sharp, nearly vicious in their diction, and wholly at odds with the Matron's naturally musical voice. "What do you mean couldn't shoot someone?" she asked in her harsh mother tongue, Zabraki.

She continued speaking in her harsh native tongue. She went on for several moments in that visceral alien dialect before her voice trailed off slowly. She shook her head eventually having realized her words were falling on deaf ears. The girl couldn't understand her own ancient language. "But you are marked." she said softly once more speaking Basic. She took a drag from her cigarette, grey smoke oozing lazily from her enticing maw as she spoke next. "You have much to learn about your people, little one." her voice strained with something like remorse.

Their conversion was interrupted briefly as the barman arrived to set two glasses of a dark liquor over ice in front of the Matron. Zenva smiled, nodding to the man to dismiss him. She waited until he was gone to push the two drinks to the center of their table. She gestured to them, though remained silent for a moment to take another draw from her cigarette. She tapped the ash on the floor without actively thinking about it. "So, Mandos fethed you over. You've gone to a Merc Company for hiding, and protection, only you don't have it in you to take a warriors life. Right so far?" she asked in a cold tone. "And now you are hoping for what precisely, Miss Syresh? An around the clock protection detail?"

 

[Illyria Syresh]

THE KRAYT DRAGON LOUNGE // TATOOINE



Outfit: Here (With Boots)
Weapons: N/A
Status: Confident | Nervous
Interacting With: [member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

"I'm nobody anymore. The Mandalorians took that from me, my identity, my belonging. I need to find my place, a new place to call home. Among all...all of this karking crap. Then, at least...I will know if I deserved to live."​

Illyria Syresh​

"I mean...I can't bring myself to kill another person. Not yet at least, my-my father always told me that all life was precious and sacred and that we had no right to take life that wasn't ours," Illyria spoke up, suddenly on edge at the woman's sudden and abrupt shift in body language and tone of voice. Perhaps she had done something to upset this woman? Or perhaps she was merely surprised that she couldn't. "I mean...I've heard that my people, the zabraks, are a warrior people. But I never grew up on our original home, I came from a colony of our peoples, without any knowledge about our warrior culture or the language we spoke until recently. My parents, because we were royalty, sheltered me from everything...they wanted to protect me from the Galaxy. However, now it seems that their good-intention protection...had done quite the opposite instead of what they had planned."

Illyria didn't understand Zenva when she began to speak, it was as if she was speaking in some undiscovered dialact. A dialect which while sounding familar to the woman, also sounded as though it was completely alien....and yet it felt as though it was part of her. Like it were part of her heritage. Only recently had she learned of where her people came from, Iridonia. And she wanted to go there one day, to learn of her people and what they were about. From her meeting with Miss Zenva so far, she could tell that whoever they were and however it is that they acted...they were far different from her own people that she knew. Two people of the same race, distanced by culture and thousands upon thousands upon millions of kilometers.

"Yes, you're right. But I went to the Merc Company to do something other than just...other than just mope around and be sad all of the time, which has become a trend of mine recently I suppose. I'm just hoping for somebody to...help keep me safe, and to help me get better in such things as combat. I suppose, if that is what is necessary." Illyria truly did not know what she needed with a bodyguard. She knew that she needed one, of course, though as for if they need to be around the clock or not, the female zabrak knew not. It was something that she should have planned for ahead of time, however, instead of wallowing in despair about not making the decision, the young woman decided to be assertive in her decision. "Yes, yes that is what I need...perhaps not around-the-clock all of the time, but ready at a moment's notice whenever I need them. If that is not too much to ask that is, if it is, than around-the-clock."

Illyria's golden eyes looked to the two glasses located at the center of the table both of which held within themselves dark liquor. She knew better than to drink such things without thinking about it twice, however, it was hard for her to restrain herself, especially now. She already felt embarrassed from earlier, and now felt nervous out of fear that this conversation was going astray from how it had originally started out. Tentatively, one of the female zabrak's blue hands reached out towards the glass closest to her. Her fingers curled around the cool container, bringing it towards her and taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage. Instantly, the warm sensation of the alcohol burned her throat, and it helped to ease her mind and feelings, relaxing her from her tension.

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Attire : Under Layer, Top Layer {Brown}
Equipment : In Bio
Mood : Listener Discretion Advised
With : [member="Illyria Syresh"]

Zenva's hands came up in a placating gesture, trying to slow the girl down some. "Let's get the details of this sorted out first, shall we? Protection at a moments notice is your primary desire, yes? That's easily handled with a few personalized Droids. Something a young Lady of standing should be seen with, Butlers, Drivers, so on."

Pausing long enough to collect the remaining glass, Zenva sipped her whiskey, and continued. "If it is your desire to learn more about our people, and our history, Miss Syresh, I can help you with that. If you're interested of course. What it means to have earned your markings. What it is to have Iridonian pride." Once more the Matron paused to take a drag from her cigarette.

"I can teach you how to conduct yourself like a proper Zabrak Noblewoman. On our world you don't earn that title without proving yourself a capable Hunter, and Warrior. It won't be kind, but I can teach you those skills." Grey tendrils trailed slowly about the Crimson Lady's sharp face, dispersing around her crown of horns.

 

[Illyria Syresh]

THE KRAYT DRAGON LOUNGE // TATOOINE



Outfit: Here (With Boots)
Weapons: N/A
Status: Confident | Happy
Interacting With: [member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

"I'm nobody anymore. The Mandalorians took that from me, my identity, my belonging. I need to find my place, a new place to call home. Among all...all of this karking crap. Then, at least...I will know if I deserved to live."​

Illyria Syresh​

"Oh, sorry. I wasn't sure if a living bodyguard would be better than a robotic one," Illyria spoke plainly and honestly. She believed that an organic bodyguard would serve better than that of a droid one, an organic bodyguard was more intelligent, wasn't it? While a droid could only be programmed to do certain things.

The blue-skinned zabrak was pleased and happy with how well this meeting was going. When she had first walked in, she was nervous and didn't know what would happen. Now when she looked back, all of that worrying was all for naught, she hadn't needed to worry because everything just seemed to work out when the meeting happened. Sitting there with her legs crossed one over the other, the Scion of house Syresh brought the cool glass to her lips, the ice clinking against the sides of the glass as the liquid fell from it's container and into her mouth, the alcohol burning the back of her throat and further loosening her mind, making her more assertive and confident in what she was doing. It was as a gateway to her forgetting her anxiety, allowing her to act as an individual who was confident and not scared and fearful as she always acted and was.

"You can help me with that, really? That, that's great! I am interested in you helping me with that, it may be difficult, especially because I don't know where to start but...I'm willing, I'm willing to give this a shot." Illyria was surprised by how easily the words came out of her mouth. It must have been the whiskey doing this to her, it helped to allow her to do away with the worries of her mind and to make decisions without all of her needless worrying which caused her constant hesitation and anxiety about what was right, and what was wrong. "Thank you so much!"

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Attire : Under Layer, Top Layer {Brown}
Equipment : In Bio
Mood : Confident | Pleased | Amused
With : [member="Illyria Syresh"]

"Alright, alright." The Matron chuckled softly at the girl's outpouring of words. Holding up a hand as if to ward off the youth's enthusiastic thanks. "Calm down. First thing first. Droids are efficient. I can understand wanting flesh and blood people around you, but that requires considerable funds if you want to ensure continued loyalty. At least in our world. Mercenaries are knowing to change sides mid combat at the first sign of better, safer pay."

Zenva smiled, sipping her whiskey in sync with the younger Zabrak. "I could provide you with Clones if you desire. It would still cost quite a large sum. To ensure continued security at all hours, you would need a fair number of soldiers. You understand this, yes? Flesh and blood has more complications than a simple Footman Droid." she remarked in a more serious tone.

Zenva turned away slightly, her long legs extending out from beneath the table. They folded left over right at the knee to mirror the youth's pose, though Zenva's confidence may yet prove difficult to match. She did after all have experience in her favor. "Consider this your first lesson in Zabrak etiquette. You need to be decisive. There is no room on the battlefield for second guesses. Be right the first time, and be right the quickest. That's the only way we survive to become Nobility."

She paused to take a pull from her cigarette, grey smoke dissipating in a cloud as she spoke. "Droids are efficient, and have a one time cost. Real, proper Soldiers have a lot of needs. Which are you able to handle currently, Miss Syresh?"

 

[Illyria Syresh]

THE KRAYT DRAGON LOUNGE // TATOOINE



Outfit: Here (With Boots)
Weapons: N/A
Status: Confident | Happy
Interacting With: [member="Zenva Vrotoa"]

"I'm nobody anymore. The Mandalorians took that from me, my identity, my belonging. I need to find my place, a new place to call home. Among all...all of this karking crap. Then, at least...I will know if I deserved to live."​

Illyria Syresh​

"Ah, yes I understand now. I wasn't thinking about all of the complications that came with having somebody of flesh and blood under my service." Illyria said with a tone of understanding, her fingers bringing the glass of whiskey to her lips as she listened to Zenva's words. The woman knew more than she ever did, and the blue-skinned zabrak knew that it would be wise to listen to her especially now when she was giving her advice. "If I want to remain part of the nobility, then I need to stop hesitating and being anxious at every little thing. I just need to...I just need to go for it and see what happens. I just need to be decisive for once!"

I just need to be decisive, the words repeated in the blue-skinned zabrak's mind. She knew what the words meant, of course, though she needed to follow through with such things. She couldn't just sit aside out of fear and anxiety, she had to act. Such a notion, however, caused the Scion of house Syresh to re-account when she had first set her eyes upon Zenva. She had found the woman to be oddly dressed at first, however as she had looked closer, she had found the woman to look stunningly beautiful...it had been hard for her to look away from the woman. Illyria didn't know why she had found the woman attractive, she didn't even know why she had stared as obviously as she had, yet she had been attracted to the woman. And now, such a feeling had become multiplied. Her intoxication caused by the alcohol made her find the woman more attractive than she had seen her at first, and her own new-found decisiveness in her drunken state was edging her on to do something about it.

Yet she resisted, for the moment being.

"I am currently only able to handle droids, they don't have as many needs and they're relatively cheap and easy to replace. So I will go with droids instead of clones for the moment being," Syresh said calmly with decisiveness in her voice.

 

[Zenva Vrotoa]

Attire : Under Layer, Top Layer {Brown}
Equipment : In Bio
Mood : Confident | Pleased | Serious
With : [member="Illyria Syresh"]

Zenva smiled faintly hiding it behind another sip of her drink. "Good. Very good." She remarked while the youth vocalized her own personal vow to be more decisive. "Droids is a wise decision, for a temporary solution at least." The Matron waved a hand through the air as if to dismiss her own comment. "It's the practical decision, Miss Syresh."

Setting her drink aside for a moment, Zenva's now freed hand rummaged through a pouch at her waist. Pulling a small communication device from it, Zenva keyed a button and spoke a few words in her harsh mother tongue. She stowed the comm once again and picked up her drink. "Am I correct to assume you will need transportation off world?" the Matron asked before taking another drag of her cigarette. "I am sure I will be able to arrange something suitable to one of your status."

 

[Illyria Syresh]

THE KRAYT DRAGON LOUNGE // TATOOINE



Outfit: Here (With Boots)
Weapons: N/A
Status: Confident
Interacting With: Zenva Vrotoahttp://starwarsrp.net/user/6875-zenva-vrotoa/

"I'm nobody anymore. The Mandalorians took that from me, my identity, my belonging. I need to find my place, a new place to call home. Among all...all of this karking crap. Then, at least...I will know if I deserved to live."​

Illyria Syresh​

Hold on. This whole operation was your idea.

Illyria's lips opened for a few moments, before closing after hearing what Zenva said to her. She had been ready to retort and questioned the red-skinned woman as to why she was going against what she had previousily said was a wise idea. She had been sure of it, though the sudden change in the zabrak's way of speaking made the Scion of house Syresh question whether she was making the right decision. She knew she was, wasn't she? She was making the right decision to buy some droid guards despite their, hopefully, non-existent need...they were just to protect her, to help keep her safe after all...hopefully. Instead of dabbling and drawing in to her own confusion and doubts, she needed to be strong and decisive. And consistent. Consistent. Illyria ignored her own worries and kept her gaze focused on the sharp and mysterious face of Zenva.

"Actually...yes, I may need one. Thank you," Illyria said warmly, surprised at how nice and helpful Zenva was being despite the two of them just recently meeting one-another.