Senate Guard
OBJ. 1: I Hate Sand.
Atmosphere.
PONEMAH TERMINAL
LANDING BAY & REFUGEE RELIEF CHECKPOINT
Tag: Elpsis Kerrigan
Nearby: Kalie Alverez
TLDR: Gorth approaches Elpsis and basically asks who she is.
The Yuzzem sniffed the air. His snout was unable to register anything other than a crucible of body odors, all from different species; pheromones professing the varied psychological burdens of the masses, ultimately culminating in a sour note he could only describe with one word; desperation.
- Is there more? – Gorthalon inquired, looking down at a military officer tasked with distribution. – Yes. Don't know about details, but there's an incoming shipment from someone outside the Alliance. – The officer cleared his throat that has dried out by the non-stop talking. – It looks big. You'd help by sorting it out. – He nodded in a general direction. - Platform three. – The Yuzzem looked over the crowd, sighed, and in his utterly deep voice added. – I'll take care of it.
Confidently he crossed the rows of people waiting for whatever may get them through the day. – Please, wait in line. – He said to most. – No, the Maw didn't follow you here, sir. You're safe. – After being stopped again and again, it took more time to reach the landing platform, but once he got closer, he immediately recognized the entourage that the distribution officer referred to. The sight stopped Gorthalon in his tracks. A visibly close-knit and well-equipped group of off-worlders like himself; yet one stood out above all. A stunning, young woman with pale eyes whose face was severely scarred – the scars themselves aglow like embers. Truly a contrast to the ghostly faces surrounding her. A slight limp in her gait immediately revealed that she had a cybernetic leg; combined with the visible robotic arm, the Yuzzem concluded that the person sternly giving out orders in the distance was no ordinary dignitary or ambassador. Far from it.
Gorthalon quickly recognized the lightsaber at her hip, and the strange features suddenly felt more understandable. He woke from his pondering slumber and decided to approach the lady. His enormous stature, combined with his heavy, rumbling steps evidently forecasting his approach, he looked straight in the eyes of the mysterious stranger.
The wind picked up a little, sweeping dust and sand across the crowded platforms and ruffling his light brown fur. Lifting his chin slightly, his sharp fangs reflecting the mid-day sun's hollow rays of light, Gorthalon greeted the young lady. – Excuse me, ma'am. – The Yuzzem bowed slightly, unsure of how politically important the person he's addressing right now is. – My name is Gorthalon, and I'm with the Alliance Army. – Calmly placing, then releasing his open palm from the Starbird insignia on his chest. – I'm here to assist with distribution. May I ask who the generous donor is? – Gorthalon did not realize that his gaze had drifted towards the lightsaber and unveiled his curiosity.
- Is there more? – Gorthalon inquired, looking down at a military officer tasked with distribution. – Yes. Don't know about details, but there's an incoming shipment from someone outside the Alliance. – The officer cleared his throat that has dried out by the non-stop talking. – It looks big. You'd help by sorting it out. – He nodded in a general direction. - Platform three. – The Yuzzem looked over the crowd, sighed, and in his utterly deep voice added. – I'll take care of it.
Confidently he crossed the rows of people waiting for whatever may get them through the day. – Please, wait in line. – He said to most. – No, the Maw didn't follow you here, sir. You're safe. – After being stopped again and again, it took more time to reach the landing platform, but once he got closer, he immediately recognized the entourage that the distribution officer referred to. The sight stopped Gorthalon in his tracks. A visibly close-knit and well-equipped group of off-worlders like himself; yet one stood out above all. A stunning, young woman with pale eyes whose face was severely scarred – the scars themselves aglow like embers. Truly a contrast to the ghostly faces surrounding her. A slight limp in her gait immediately revealed that she had a cybernetic leg; combined with the visible robotic arm, the Yuzzem concluded that the person sternly giving out orders in the distance was no ordinary dignitary or ambassador. Far from it.
Gorthalon quickly recognized the lightsaber at her hip, and the strange features suddenly felt more understandable. He woke from his pondering slumber and decided to approach the lady. His enormous stature, combined with his heavy, rumbling steps evidently forecasting his approach, he looked straight in the eyes of the mysterious stranger.
The wind picked up a little, sweeping dust and sand across the crowded platforms and ruffling his light brown fur. Lifting his chin slightly, his sharp fangs reflecting the mid-day sun's hollow rays of light, Gorthalon greeted the young lady. – Excuse me, ma'am. – The Yuzzem bowed slightly, unsure of how politically important the person he's addressing right now is. – My name is Gorthalon, and I'm with the Alliance Army. – Calmly placing, then releasing his open palm from the Starbird insignia on his chest. – I'm here to assist with distribution. May I ask who the generous donor is? – Gorthalon did not realize that his gaze had drifted towards the lightsaber and unveiled his curiosity.
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