[Alaisy, Erinyes, and Strong] Red, Black, and Blue

Ruby’s Tavern
Port Ol’val
38 ABY

“Last warning! Settle down or take it outside!”

The command, shouted from behind the muzzle of a shattergun, stirred Erinyes from her reverie. Both the order and the weapon seemed to be aimed at Delphidian patron who was shouting his leathery face off at a nearby sabacc table. The grey-skinned sentient spun and drew himself up, looking ready to answer the bartender with another tirade, until he spotted the shotgun’s muzzle and snapped his mouth shut.

So much for having a rousing brawl with my drink, Erinyes thought, polishing off her glass of tsiraki. For a hub of the exciting underbelly of galactic society, Port Ol’val seemed awfully stingy about giving people a good time. The first bar she’d visited had turned out to be a creep house extraordinaire, full of furniture made from resin-sealed corpses. The whole thing was just so eerie and Arconan that Erinyes barely finished her second drink before bailing for less macabre pastures.

Ruby’s Tavern was much more inviting, but no less risky in its own way. Were the bouncers or bartenders assets for the Arconan intelligence service? Was the fetching Human woman at that sabacc table—no, two tables over, not the one with the Delphidian—one of the Shadow Lord’s operatives? The need for constant vigilance put a serious damper on having any fun, which left Erinyes as wound up as… well, as wound up as Lucine Vassano would’ve been on Chyron, probably. Granted, Vassano probably would’ve called ahead like a normal person, instead of skulking around alone and unannounced while she–

Erinyes’ train of thought was diverted by a pair of presences in the Force. One was a Dark Jedi of some description, nearby but not getting too close, and not someone Erinyes had sensed before. The other was… the most mountainous Chiss she had ever seen, and Erinyes’ eyebrows shot upward at the sight. She couldn’t sense the Force on him at all, but somehow, the man’s presence there was as towering as his physicality.

Great, it’s the welcoming committee.

More by reflex than conscious intent, Erinyes flexed her hand to ensure that her lightsaber had a clear path from its wrist holster to her grip. The enormous Chiss noticed the gesture, however, and raised a beefy hand. “There is no need to arm yourself, Consul Ténama. I am General Stres’tron’garmis, scion of House Garmis, of Clan Arcona—but you may simply call me ‘Strong’.” He extended the same hand in greeting.

“It suits you.” The gap between their eye levels didn’t seem to change as Erinyes stood to shake Strong’s hand. “Will your friend be joining you, or is this the part where you take me to some Arconan holding facility?”

“Mistress Tir’eivra will arrive momentarily. As for our location, we had not planned to detain you unless you proved unwilling to have a polite discussion. I have found that such matters proceed more smoothly in a more relaxed environment.” Strong turned and inclined his head towards the approaching server. “My typical order, if you would, and Mistress Tir’eivra’s as well. I assume Consul Ténama will also require another drink, he said.

“Oh, yeah.” Erinyes started to sit down, paused when she noticed that Strong wasn’t doing the same, then looked up when she heard high-heeled boots clicking across the tavern floor. In front of her was a very shapely figure, coated in black latex and perched atop what looked like weaponised footwear. Forty-five degrees later, Erinyes finally spotted the woman’s head, with the thick black ponytail emerging from the top of her helmet.

“Mistress Alaisy.” Strong nodded by way of greeting, received the same gesture in exchange—kriff, the woman might’ve been even taller than him—and turned back to Erinyes. “Battlemaster Alaisy Tir’eivra, Consul.”

Alaisy offered Erinyes the same nod. “Curious, seeing a Taldryan Consul on Ol’val unaccompanied.”

“Well, aren’t you a sight to behold.” No, stay professional, Erinyes reminded herself. “Nice to meet you both… Are all Arconans this tall these days? What the kriff do they feed you here?” That refill couldn’t come soon enough.

Ruby’s Tavern
Port Ol’val
38 ABY

“Varied, quality meals and well calculated amounts of nutrients have been a staple of the Garmis dynasty for generations!” Strong hollered.

The towering Chiss turned towards the arriving server, pointing with his huge hand at the table.

“It is not about the food,” a modulated sigh and a hiss of air escaped Alaisy’s mask, “we are not cattle to be fed.”

The black of the domed visor slowly dimmed until it turned fully transparent. Corners of her dramatically lined eyes could be seen wrinkling up into crow’s feet as it showed her smiling.

“I could work on something if you want yourself or your Taldryan minions to grow a significant amount taller. So long as I get to catalogue the experiments,” an Imperial accent added a sinister tone to her smoky voice.

The female Zeltron was unsure if the masked woman was serious or not. Those silvery on fleek eyes shimmered like diamonds hidden behind protective glass, but they radiated a kind of politeness.

“There’s other experiments that speak more to me right now. I’m almost done with objective observations,” she quipped, snatching away the drink offered by the server. She studied the tall woman’s frame as it snaked down onto a chair that Arcona’s Rollmaster held out for her.

While Strong wasn’t quite fast enough to offer Erinyes her drink, he did give Alaisy hers. The chilled orange and crimson liquid had the Margarita glass decorated with a slice of Jun lime.

“Thank you Mr. Garmis, you always get the drink just right,” Alaisy raised the glass, sliding a gloved finger over it to check if it was cold enough. Then she peeled a small tube from underneath her voice modulator and stuck in the drink.

The mostly bald Chiss took his own drink last out of courtesy and nodded at the waiter, placing it down onto the table. His broad body barely fit on the chair but he left enough room between him and the two women as he sat down. He would steeple his hands and lean on the table if he could, but that would bend his back uncomfortably. Instead he leaned back and crossed his arms, carefully avoiding putting too much weight on the seat rail.

A soft melody came from the local band who just began their act. Strong grumbled and peered to his side when he noticed that it actually calmed down the rest of the tavern.

The huge man cleared his throat, batting down with a balled fist on his sternum, “So, what brings an esteemed Consul here? There are much more accommodating establishments on Ol’val than Ruby’s Tavern.”

“The other place I’ve visited was a little dreary for my liking. There’s a good overview here and I might actually find some clues as to where larger quantities of that famed Hosnian tsiraki is being sold,” her Core World accent became slightly more pronounced as her azure eyes peered at the critical gaze the masked woman was giving the Zeltron.

Alaisy flicked her war-like ponytail, having trouble not to roll her eyes at Erinyes. It reminded Tir’eivra of her own Apprentice and his avid drinking habits, but it made the scarlet haired woman’s story more likely. Ol’val was a great place to find an exotic drink, even the illegal ones.

The metal of Alaisy’s gorget discs screeched as she turned her head towards Strong, tapping a chrome fingernail against the circular voice modulator as she pondered what he was thinking.

Red glowing eyes slid between his partner in this…it was difficult to classify their excursion as a mission but things were as they stood. Or sat. He realized his train of thought was wandering as he sipped the amber whiskey in his glass, but could he be blamed?

”So your visit to the Port is simply an excursion in search of a, now regrettably even more so, rare alcoholic beverage?” he questioned with a single raised eyebrow. ”I fear the First Order’s actions have made good Hosnian stock difficult to acquire, though it is not impossible just yet. I suspect as time goes on, it will follow much the trend of the Alderaanian wines which people place in display cases and refuse to sample, depriving all others of what little there is that remains.”

He sounded regretful, almost wistful. He took another sip, the small glass perched between a meaty finger and his thumb, gingerly as not to crush it.

With a crack of his neck he settled in his chair a little more, hearing it creak but confident in its sturdiness. For now. He looked thoughtful now.

”I believe I have nearly half a case, possibly a bit more, stowed aboard the Ladies Delight,” he mused aloud, reaching up to stroke his mustache, glancing across the table at the Zeltron appraisingly. ”Though the atmosphere may be more muted then Ruby’s, if the noise and crowd are part of the appeal.”

“Yes, you visited Thanatophilia first,” interjected Alaisy, tapping her drink tube lightly with one slender finger. To the Chiss’s eyes she looked relaxed, reclined in her seat and one long leg crossed over the other. The sleek form was disarming, he thought, though the Garmis mind was not privy to all the subtle signals a woman might be sending another high standing lady. They had agreed to try and put the Zeltron at ease when confronting her; the past between their two clans was supposedly storied, though few were around to explain to them why. “I suspect if Master Timeros had been overseeing his establishment that you would have had a very…interesting conversation.”