Mek-Sha was all the things that Port Avalon had and didn't have. Port Avalon was the crater of an older Galidraani-class station that met with an asteroid. Survivors thereof began to graft the station into the asteroid and over time a hobbled pile of scrap became a shadowport, a home to the many who didn't want to be found. Mek-Sha sort of reminded her of that, Mek-Sha wasn't Port Avalon though, it was more organized than it for starters.
Ariel had noticed the silence that had initially placated them the way the lighter stubbornly refused to light. "Those things are bad for you, you know that right?" A light question, the small knowing yet playful tone danced on her words. Ariel didn't notice that the Atrisian didn't inhale by that point her attention had turned toward the station itself.
She nodded along as the Atrisian spoke, she could hear the Southern Corellian in the otherwise Imperial accent. Ariel hadn't heard much of it before heading out to Galactic Alliance a little while ago. Otherwise, she'd have no other frame of reference, in contrast, Ariel's accent was a mix of Dosuun's heightened Galidraani heritage and the refined Bastion-like Imperial tones. Before it was taken over by the New Imperial Order. "Well, I suppose we're on for a good ol' fashion cantina crawl then." If there was anything good or fashionable about it, remained to be seen. "I can put some smudges on that vest if you want."
Another tease at the Atrisian's expense, "you look good, in case you were wondering. It kinda suits you." She added not knowing the effects it would have on the New Imperial. Ariel followed Rowan as they headed in the direction of cantinas and nightclubs. The glimmer of bright neon hit against the dull, and sometimes wet surface of the floor they walked. Ariel relaxed beside Rowan, although the action itself was all rather involuntarily. She hadn't noticed it, not really, Rowan inquired about Dosuun's hotspots. "There's a little place near Government Row, called the Lampstone. It's a bit of a shack, to be honest, but it's got some of the best ale on that side of the city. Go a bit out toward the country and you'll find the better spots, city places tend to cater more toward tourists especially near the museums."
As they pressed toward the cantinas the foot traffic headed in the opposite direction seemed to grow. Ariel unknowingly stepped closer toward Rowan. Ariel had only seen this many non-humans when she had been out with the Pavanos, Mr. Bloodborn
Kassandra Distorith
, her then-step mother and mother. Hauling her cousin's unconscious clone body halfway around the galaxy. Or fetching it for starters, that was an adventure of itself. "What about you?" She asked in return, "any places you like to frequent?"Ariel wasn't sure she'd get an answer as Rowan brought them to Star's End Cantina. "I suppose if it's too messy, I'll give them the ol' Avalonian one-two." Ariel shadowboxed lightly in the air, jabbing it with little intent. "Of course, one must always be careful around shady cantinas and in shadier ports such as this." Words of wisdom she had heard from one holo or another, as she doubted anyone in her life would say such a thing. Trajan Kurze, the old warhorse would've told her it'd be a great spot to pick a fight.
"I think I'm good," she replied matter-of-factly, knowingly only that out in the wasteland that had been the Brynadul's empire that there were people here who needed help. Help like those on Dosuun once needed, and she was there to help provide it.
