[Sandbox]: Medth, Ado Sector

[fighting_mad]

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.

Comments

[eiattu_pride]

"More like a childhood fantasy," Rial admits. "I was going to be a high-living smuggler with a gambling habit and enough disposable income for a really flashy ship that somehow managed to go unnoticed by every law enforcement droid out there. A meter-eight tall, big muscles, custom blasters," a woman at every port, he very carefully doesn't say.

Also it might be worth noting that he's well over a meter nine at this point.

"But count seems an acceptable second." Rial has dropped back half a step as they continue outside, staying at her left shoulder.

[fighting_mad]

Plourr laughs. "Do you have the sabacc skills to back up that plan?"

Medth is a peaceful world, one that has carefully maintained its neutral status. Plourr was easily able to convince her offered guards to stay behind, and most buildings are low-lying, open to the warm air, and not more than a few stories tall. It's easy enough to slip out of the citadel. They're exiting a quiet side entrance, rather than the massive atrium with soaring columns and climbing vines.

[eiattu_pride]

Dryly, "You've played me. I'm fairly certain you can draw your own conclusions."

The air is nearly the same temperature inside as out, warm and lightly humid without being sticky. It's a rather pleasant change from Eiattu's rainy season, and Rial turns his face to the sky for a moment, drinking in the stars.

[fighting_mad]

Plourr guffaws and glances over at him. Her look holds, though. "You're going to blow our cover," she says, reaching over and tugging at the sleeve of his jacket. "Don't you have anything with some wrinkles?"

The streets are quiet; wind rustling through the trees that are growing amid all the ferrocrete. A few dark speeders parked on corners. There are rowdy voices in the distance, maybe a few blocks away.

[eiattu_pride]

Rial somewhat fussily tugs his sleeve right back. "I was under the impression I was on Medth for a trade summit, not a sleazy barhop." The tone is more teasing than anything else, and the smile hasn't left his face. "This is about as good as it gets."

Perhaps he is just a very well-dressed street tough?

[fighting_mad]

"Rial," says Plourr seriously, shaking her head, "if you're going to travel with me, you should always be prepared for a sleazy barhop."

There are strict divides, in Eiattu's capital city, between wealthy areas and where ordinary people live; divides that Plourr wants to see break down. On Eiattu, the streets surrounding the governing buildings would be silent and pristine at this hour. It's not the same here. They'll only have to walk a block before starting to run into the city's nightlife.

It's kriffing fantastic.

[eiattu_pride]

Really, he should have known. Travel with Rial: be prepared for a fany dinner or unexpected art gallery exploration. Travel with Plourr: sleazy barhop or fisticuffs in the jungle.

(he rolls his eyes, a little, but there's no denying the wry pleasure on his face.)

As the streets become more active Rial picks up a sideways glance or two, but he keeps his walk confident. "Did you have a place in mind?"

[fighting_mad]

They've wandered-with-purpose into a main commerce area -- closed storefronts, street vendors loudly hawking their wares (primarily some sort of meat-on-a-stick, sizzling as it cools), tattoo parlors, and, mostly, bars. Lots of bars. The scene is a riot of color and voices and music.

There are people everywhere, here. They're ducking in and out of the handful of open shops, and in and out of bars. It's primarily a young, cheerfully drunk crowd; a bizarre mix of students slumming it on a night away from the university that's located a few blocks away, and a less-reputatable looking crowd. The farther down the street they go, the more the balance tips from the former to the latter.

There are more than a few blasters.

"I got a recommendation," Plourr says, easily shouldering her way through. "The Blasted Nakereth. Decent beer and music that won't make your ears bleed." A ringing endorsement from one of her Medth-born guards, right there.

[eiattu_pride]

Rial is starting to be slightly more thankful for the feeling of his blaster safely holstered against his hip. He also can't help but notice that the recommendation included notes on the beer and ambiance, but nothing about safety.

His fingers twitch, but he manages to suppress the urge to check his vibroblade as well. Although -- he has to admit, there's something almost contagious about the boisterous crowds. It's been far too long since he's gotten a chance to cut loose.

"Sounds appealing." He's not actually being as sarcastic as he sounds. "I shall attempt to fit in." Now he's just plain old joking around with her, the stilted dictation of Eiattu high society he's really only just started to lose coming out thick.

[fighting_mad]

Plourr snorts. "Somebody's gonna try to mug you before the night's over," she says.

She sounds like she's looking forward to it.

[eiattu_pride]

"Aren't I lucky I have a prin-- a lady friend to defend me from unsavory sorts, then." Not entirely necessary -- while Rial certainly can't compare to Plourr's level of combat experience, he can certainly hold his own in a fight.

Which, of course, doesn't mean he wants to get in one. The two of them have been attracting the occasional curious look already. The sooner they get to the bar, the better.

(this has nothing to do with Rial wanting to soothe residual nerves with cheap beer, nosirree)

[fighting_mad]

Well, that probably marks the first time in Plourr's life that anyone has ever referred to her as their lady friend.

"Subtle," says Plourr over her shoulder, as she takes a left at a stall selling jewelry that's likely of dubious legal provenance.

[eiattu_pride]

Rial is the most subtle of all. Really.

He is so subtle that probably Plourr will never even notice who punches her shoulder as he scoots up to draw alongside her.