Corellian System

[The Thruvarans]

Miko takes Avery's hand in his, but not for a handshake. Instead, he plants a warm kiss on her knuckles.

"Madame Heartshorn, the pleasure is all mine. I am Miko Reglia. And if you are a loose cannon, then I am an artillery piece being swung around on a rope."

The grin that follows is as charming as it is roguishly disarming.

[Taaru Masako]

While Jet's Corellian mercenaries have been pursueing their various legitimate interests, the Thruvarans have gathered off in one of the corners, and taken to observation of their soon-to-be brothers and sisters in arms.

Konrad, for one, is not very impressed, and remarks as much to 1st Sgt. Sofie Arlanc and Master Sgt. Victor Laszlo, both of them squad leaders and senior members of the Reiter.

<<They drink, they carouse, they womanize. Despite how impressed I am with their shipbuilding, I have my doubts that these children have the mettle to be soldiers.>>

Sofie laughs cynically: <<They don't have the experience we do, Karelia. They've known success and plenty. It makes them soft. Don't you think so, Victor?>>

Victor, who is most likely the tallest and broad-shouldered individual seen by a vast majority of his fellow humans, grunts, and does something rather uncharacteristic: He actually answers a question.

<<They are still here, aren't they? When they, as a people, faced extinction, they rallied and vanquished their enemies, did they not?>>

Left unsaid was the matter of their own history...and their failure to do what the Corellians had done.

It is enough to silence both Konrad and Sofie.

They are soon joined by Taaru, and they greet him with salutes, which he returns.

"Programmabläufe" he says, waving his datapad at them, and they quickly check their own to verify the upload.

The PA system in the gala annex chimes two notes, followed by a basso profundo announcer.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the ceremony will begin momentarily. Crew of the Faustus, please take your assigned positions in the gala. Non-affiliated personnel may take their assigned seats."

Taaru glances down at his datapad, and checks his chrono.

<<Two minutes late.....tsk tsk.>>

He turns to the gathered Thruvarans:

"Also Jungs und Mädels! Wir sind jetzt dran. Ich m-"

He stops midsentence and looks around.

<<Where are the twins?>>

Sofie looks in a direction and indicates it with a nod. Taaru follows and isn't really surprised to see the twins chatting up a gaggle of ladies and being very successful at it. The Scholls were incredibly gifted at various disciplines, but they were also case studies of what idle hands of the incredibly talented get up to.

Taaru sighs and rubs his temples.

<<Victor, be a dear....>>

He receives a satisfied grunt in response. Taaru was beginning to think Laszlo enjoyed "ministering" to the Scholls. Then again, Taaru has to admire the artistry of Victor's ministrations, as he parts the crowd in front of him like the prow of an oceanliner, and stands menacingly behind the Scholls.

The pair continue chatting up their newfound friends, unaware of the shadow being cast over them.

Their friends, on the other hand, see only an almost unnecessarily large man with the grimmest expression on his scarred face.

They point this out to the Scholls by falling completely silent, and pointing behind them.

The two don't turn around immediately, instead looking at eachother, as if trying to confirm their fears and come to a consensus before discovering the truth.

But the truth discovers them first, as both are physically lifted off of the floor by the scruff of their necks.

"Jungs," Laszlo says without emotion.

<<Hey Papa Bear,>> they say in unison. <<Just taking in the sights, eh? We get out of the house so rarely, it's nice to check out some of the scenery>>

Laszlo's expression is that of a ocean storm: Unceasing, merciless, and strangely serene, as if it was the only natural thing to be. The other Thruvarans knew that Laszlo's thoughts were unreadable, because Laszlo didn't think. Laszlo Does. And what he does is has the correctness of the geologic timescale.

He drags both of the Scholls back to the Thruvarans, who have begun departing for the ceremony. The Scholls wave back at their dates and shout adulations, while their dates wave back, nervously.

[Avery Heartshorn]

She straightened her back but her shoulders came inward as if to touch each other. She felt a blush and a smile creep across her face. She aimed to speak, but goosebumps traveled up that arm and across her face- which was obvious since her collarbones weren't covered up.

Her breath caught awkwardly in her throat, making her sigh sound as if it were stuttering before she said...

"Damn you."

[The Thruvarans]

"I've been playing this game a lot longer than you have, Avery."

Whether this was a jest, or delivered in absolute seriousness, Avery couldn't tell. Miko's sabacc face was legendary in 48 systems, after all.

He looks up at the ceiling as the PA chimes, and sighs.

"Well, m'dear. It looks like that's my cue."

He turns to leave, but stops, still holding her hand.

"I'll see you after the ceremony, yeah?"

[Avery Heartshorn]

She looked up too and sighed a bit.

"Guess so."

Looking back down to him though as he held onto her hand she couldn't help but feel a bit over powered by how sweet he was. She smiled genuinely and squeezed his hand.

"Kay."

She let go of his hand and started to walk off in one direction before turning around and walking past him again in a different direction. She pointed in front of her awkwardly as she breathlessly explained.

"I'm...yeah... I'm over here."

She quickly walked away, blushing with embarrassment as she made her way over to her seat.

Sitting down, she smiled to the group sitting around her. Nodding her head in a form of acknowledgment. She crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward on her knee with her elbows- her chin resting in her upturned palms. Clearly, she was watching Miko.

[Dangerous Wave's Corporation]

Darren and Ras watched as Rex emerged from the crowd - unscathed and apparently having lost whatever pursuit the angry females had continued. Brushing fingers through his hair he smiled innocently at Ras and winked at Dare before weaving through the crowd to join his fellows just as the chime sounded.

"Well at least he got away" Dare said off handedly to Ras as they finished their drinks and watched their fellows bring Rex back into their protective fold.

'Yep" Ras responded setting his glass down and placing his hands in his pockets. "could have been worse, could have been like that time on Tatt..."

Darren smirked slightly "well then we'd be planning a rescue mission next, but those ladies were hardly the brightest bulbs in the fleet"

"Well that is why Jethro picked them" Remarked Ras as they were joined by the red skinned Mulokhai, surly Vidown and Bells. slinging an arm around Bells shoulders - mostly to annoy her he gave Khai a wink. "So?"

"I don't think they like us much" Khai answered as Bells made a disgusted sound and shrugged out from under Ras's arm, who shot her a wounded look before Dare ushered them all towards the others.

"I wouldn't like us either if I didn't know better" Bells remarked to which Dare replied with a grin and a sarcastic response "well...that was the whole point"

"To make us look like incompetent idiots" Khai continued and Dare winked at her "precisely" He responded just as they joined the others.

"Well boss...were we obvious enough?" Jethro asked as the group began to troop towards their assigned seats

"Oh I think so" Dare responded as he took point in the mass exodus "I mean it was pretty hard to miss Rex stumbling around like a drunken taun taun" Rex practically preened at this statement as the Mercenary troop took their assigned places.

[Jet Almeara]

Jet's eyes were drawn away from Darren and his small posse as they made their way to their assigned seats. She had been slightly amused by their antics...and pleased that they had been able to keep things from going to far. Just far enough...and no more. The others might have thought her mad for choosing this team..for this mission, but Jet knew better.

As the Corellian's took their places Jet followed suit, weaving through the crowd to her own place in the gathering.

[Taaru Masako]

Diktat Al'Meara and her immediate companions are led to a central podium in the gala room, which is a large semi-circular enclosure overlooking the starboard side of the Faustus, with large transparisteel windows offering a 180 degree view of the ship and the surrounding shipyards.

Hung throughout the gala room are various appropriate decorations, ranging from the Faustus' fist and lightning bolt logo to the emblems and flags of various organizations and sub-organizations within the Corellian Navy.

Jet, Erika, Aaron, etc. are led to a central dais by an orderly, erected on the outer perimeter of the room, with seating for guests, civilians and non-affiliated personnel immediately in front of it.

There are seats for the Diktat and her companions on the dais. Already seated is the Fleet Admiral of the Home battlgroup, Nils Pinkala. Next to him is Design Team Lead Rashao Casanomi, having regained his composure, and without any evidence of physical violence or bloodshed, hinting at a peaceful resolution with Adm. Ragnell.

Also already seated is Cpt. Galor, looking relatively settled, as if desiring nothing more but to get this over with and assume full command of her vessel.

As the majority of guests filter in and are seated, Fleet Adm. Pinkala stands and approaches the podium.

A man of small stature, with a face pock-marked by what could only be childhood acne, the Flt. Adm. nevertheless broadcasts an almost bull-dog like resolve. With streaks of gray in his jet black hair and a face that had seen more sun than Navy men generally enjoyed, the Fleet Adm. gives the impression of a hard man having lived a hard, yet rewarding life. His features are somewhat softened by the glasses he removes from a case and sets on his nose.

He clears his throat, and speaks into the microphone array on the podium, his voice gravely, but warm.

"If everyone could please take their seats, we will begin..."

[Buula Rath]

Buula smiled at the junior ambassador's question, "I've actually been attending school. I went to the University of Lorrd to get a doctorate in Xenocultural studies." she laughed, "I ended up staying a bit long and left with two degrees."

She glanced down at her chrono nervously, she hadn't expected security to last so long, the ceremony was scheluled to begin soon.

[The Corellian Navy]

As Buula glances up again from her chrono, she would quickly realizes that she will be late, given the amount of people in the line and the processing time per person (given a little mental juggling and impromptu math).

But luck seems to be on her side, as a TSA official tromps up to her section of the line and indicates a Bothan male in front of the Barabel junior ambassador, and kindly asks him to step through to a new pathway cordoned off by queue ropes.

"Ladies and gentlebeings," he says with all the warmth and compassion of a starport security official, "this wing will be closed upon the shift change. Those ahead of me, please continue to be processed. Those behind me, please follow the new pathway through to the new wing."

Collective groans can be heard from passengers new to Corellian starports, who had missed out on the chance to effectively cut in line, while experienced travelers of the Corellian system simply shrug it off. Starport security, after all, is as infallible as a vengeful deity, with the capacity to punish dissidence with orbital bombardment.

The junior ambassador, on the other hand, seems well pleased: "Lucky break," she says more to herself, adjusting her rolling baggage and following the Bothan in front of her to the wing next to the current one.

As she approaches the new wing, a TSA official guides her to one of the stations. Before she heads to it, however, she looks over her shoulder at Buula: "Nice sssspeaking with you. I hope your assignment is a rewarding one aboard the Fausssstussss."

And she's off.

The TSA official, looking chipper and alert, as he has just started his shift, next indicates Buula, and asks her to approach Station 3, where another official is waiting.

[Buula Rath]

Buula was quite pleased at the new line opened and showed as she stepped forward following the Bothan and Barabel. She watched as the Barabel moved through sec urity with ease and then stepped forward to the official at station three.
She walked up to him with her stack of documents held up. She held them at an angle where it could seem as if she was handing them to him or could also be getting ready to go throught them. Amongst the stack was her Corellian IDchip, bording pass and required documents as well as a flimsiplast publication on archaelogy detailing the work on some tiny planet in the rim. She smiled at the official and waited to see what he needed. She knew that customs and security had different requirements the galaxy over.

[The Corellian Navy]

The official, armed with a chip stamp and sitting behind a raised booth, looks down at Buula as she arrives in front of him with some measure of curiosity...the kind of curiosity a hawk offers a rodent that has stupidly wandered too close to its roost.

Corellian civil servants were infamous for two things: 1) Their love of bureaucracy and procedure (efficient despite the connotation), and 2) The power they wielded by simply being issued chip stamps, which determined millions of fates each day.

Bemused, the official taps the ledge in front of him, indicating where Buula should place her papers.

"ID chip, boarding pass, commissioning papers and clearance authorization for your droid, please," he commands more than asks, glancing at the droid following in Buula's tracks.

[Buula Rath]

Buula still smiling pulled the stack closer to her chest and going through it she pulled out the publication. Making sure she had all of the other items on hand, she handed them to the inspector. She hoped that this guy wasn't the kind who excercised the power given him just because it was given to him. "If he was," she thought, "I'm going to have to get a lot dirtier trying to go around. AND she was already late."

[The Corellian Navy]

The inspector appraises the papers as she lays them before him, taking the time to spread them out before him in a schema and pattern that makes sense only to him.

He also slots the ID chip into a reader, which spurts out a holographic display.

He reads through several lines, glancing up at Buula periodically to check for certain facial features and ratios that every person in his position is picked to do. At one point, he smiles to himself, as if amused by something he sees, but this is fleeting.

Finally, having taken his time, he punches a few keys on a terminal next to his seat, takes his chip stamp, and plants a nanochip in her commissioning papers, boarding pass and droid authorization form.

"You're cleared to board the Faustus, Ma'am," he says, almost disappointed. "Please take your baggage and droid and have them scanned through the sensor booth," he turns to indicate the the spot where it is located with an open hand.

But before she can grab her bags and leave, he turns to her again, and fixes her with a gaze.

"One more thing, Ma'am."

[Buula Rath]

She was already turning away from him when he spoke again. She turned back toward him over her left shoulder. She raised an eyebrow questioningly, "Yes? "
Mentally she crossed her fingers and hoped that he wasn't going to announce that there had been some flaw in her paperwork that didn't quite match with the expected but wasn't enough to actually prove anything. Her droid had tootled on past her and was making to load the bags itself while she spoke.