Jan. 14th, 2017

fighting_mad: (bald - gone rogue)
It helps, Plourr has discovered, to think of trade negotiations as a series of dogfights. Just like going head-to-head with a particularly stubborn eyeball, you juke and feint so the enemy can't figure out your true path until it's too late.

There are more formal receptions involved, though, in trade negotiations.

When the wine is as fine and the company as decent as it's been at the negotiations on Medth, Plourr can't even complain. These things tend to be stuffy and painfully polite, but Medth has been different. Two of the most influential councilors on the planet's ruling council were elected to their positions following decorated military careers in the Republic Armed Forces. Those two old battleaxes were sensible, blunt voices at the negotiating table during the day and, by night, are hungry for first-hand news from Rogue Squadron. They weren't the only guests who wanted to hear stories of Endor and Brentaal. Plourr, with a glass of Rydonnian spicewine in hand, is happy to oblige.

By the time the party breaks up for the evening, Plourr is feeling more cheerful than she has since arriving on Medth straight from a deployment with the Rogues. In record time, she exchanges her ceremonial clothes for something far less attention-grabbing, ditches her Medth honor guard, and goes in search of Rial.

She's whistling.

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Plourr Estillo

January 2017

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